by Amelia Jade
Rolling her eyes as Dan began to go on a tirade of dressing the part, she turned and left the office.
“Goodbye, Dan,” she said loudly over his protests, and fled the office, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Route Fifty?” James said as she took a seat back at her dilapidated desk, her mood brightened by her approval to pursue the story she truly wanted. “That’s an upscale place. You’re really going to wear that?”
She glared at him. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s just a club, James. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going to be dancing or anything. It’s for work.”
James looked skeptical at her claim, then shrugged his shoulders and resumed typing away on his keyboard.
It was just for work. They were going to go in, ask for Benjamin, and leave.
Weren’t they?
***
“Shit,” she cursed aloud.
She had nothing to wear.
“Why did I have to listen to them?” she complained out loud, rifling through her closet once more, trying to find something, anything that would be appropriate for the evening.
There was nothing. Arianna Jones did not go clubbing. She went to the sports bar three blocks away and drank beer and played pool. That was her lifestyle, and even then, that was when she had some extra cash to burn, which wasn’t very often.
The double doors to her closet hung open. The racks were filled and hangers covered the open space. But it was all T-shirts and jeans. There were no dresses. She wasn’t comfortable wearing them. No skirts either. Frowning, she picked out the cleanest shirt she could find, and put on a pair of jeans that, though not skinny jeans, at least didn’t hang off of her like most of the ones she preferred.
I showered and washed my hair. How much more can be expected of me anyway? It’s not like Mr. Handso—Ajax—is going to be focused on me anyway. There’s going to be a veritable buffet awaiting someone like him when he walks inside.
Whipping the outfit on, she breathed a sigh of relief that it still fit since she hadn’t worn either in quite some time. Arianna proceeded to pull her hair back into its customary tight ponytail, and then settled her glasses on her face.
“Good enough,” she muttered, grabbing her purse and pencil from the shelf near the door. The beaten red purse fell comfortably across her shoulder and the pencil clipped easily to the pocket on the right side of her shirt. All of Arianna’s shirts had pockets on the breast. She had to carry her pencil somewhere handy. Pockets worked best.
A quick call summoned a taxi to her house a few minutes later.
“Route Fifty,” she told him, then pointedly ignored the astonished stare the driver gave her.
After a minute of hesitation he shrugged and headed out. Arianna barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere. She was focused on the issue at hand. What the hell had happened to Benjamin? But there was more to it than that. If the government or a corporation had taken him and the other shifters, and they were experimenting on them—if those were true—the question then changed.
What the hell are they trying to accomplish?
She made a mental note to ask Ajax about that, to see if he had heard any rumors about what they might be trying to do with the shifters when they got them. Mind control, perhaps? To use them to sneak into various places and perform assassinations? It seemed unlikely to most, but Arianna lived in the world of unlikely, impossible, and “I don’t believe that.” There was far more going on than most people were willing to admit.
“Route Fifty,” the taxi driver said as they pulled up in front of the nightclub twenty minutes later.
Once again ignoring his look, she paid him and got out, extremely conscious of how much money she was putting out to chase down this lead. Taxis were not cheap.
The first thing that hit her was the noise. Or lack thereof. Arianna had expected the whole building and area nearby to be practically thumping with the bass of club music. Instead, she could hear people chatting excitedly while they waited in line to get in. There was the sound of expensive cars as well, pulling up in front. She watched as several foreign sports cars, each likely worth more than she would ever be, pulled up, disgorging men in fancy suits and copious amounts of scantily clad women.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t belong here,” she muttered, turning to go. She would let Ajax handle this end of things. It would be perfect for him. She put her head down and headed back down the sidewalk.
“Hey, where you going?”
She looked up to see Ajax standing in front of her, arms spread wide. The first thing that stuck out was his suit.
“Where did you get that from?” she asked. He had been wearing a black T-shirt and jeans the day before.
Now he was wearing a very expensive-looking suit. It was a dark silver-metallic gray with black piping and silver pinstripes. Under it was a dark purple shirt, unbuttoned at the top, sans tie. Glossy black shoes completed the ensemble.
“You said this place was upscale,” he said with a frown. “So I went and got something.”
“Just like that?” she asked, looking him over again. He looked good. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know how much it had cost.
“Well, I found a suit store, got measured, had it tailored. So I mean, it didn’t just come off a rack.” He looked confused. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” she said, wondering if it was possible for her to be any more self-conscious than she already was. It seemed unlikely, but life kept surprising her.
“Okay, so, should we go in then? I got us on the guest list.”
Arianna’s eyebrows shot up. “You did? How did you manage that? This place is supposed to have a guest list months in advance!”
He shrugged. “I talked the talk,” he said, falling in step beside her, all but forcing her to turn back and head toward the door.
“You bribed someone, you mean,” she said, picking up on his meaning.
“Bribing is such a…nasty-sounding word, don’t you think?” he said, tossing her a wink that made her stomach flip flop in place. “Let’s just say that I came to a mutual agreement with one of the excellent employees.”
Arianna looked at him in askance, but didn’t protest the point any longer. In fact, this one worked in her favor. It meant she didn’t have to wait in line while being subjected to judgmental glares from the other women about what she was—or in this case was not—wearing. They could be in and out sooner, which meant she could go home sooner.
True to Ajax’s word, he gave his name to the doorman and they were immediately ushered inside. They passed through several layers of glass and other soundproofed walls. Once they emerged past the last, that’s when the music hit her.
“Weird.”
“What’s that?” Ajax asked as they scanned the club.
“I expected the music to be louder.” It was loud, but they were carrying on a normal conversation, only having to raise their voices slightly to be heard.
“Me too,” he said. “Okay, come on, let’s go.”
Arianna glanced at him, then his outstretched arm, then back up at him. “What’s this for?”
“Take my arm. Act like we’re together. It’ll allow us to blend better with the crowd.”
“Us? Blend?” She looked around at all the women in short dresses or skirts, dancing on every conceivable surface she could find. “Do you see this?” she waved at them. “And this?” she waved at herself.
“Yes, I do,” he said seriously, as if he didn’t care. “Now come be my date for the evening and let’s scope this joint out.”
Who is this guy? She asked herself, caving and taking his arm, careful not to caress his strongly muscled arm as she allowed herself to be escorted away from the entrance. The pair plunged into the sea of people, allowing the atmosphere to cascade over them.
The question of just who Ajax was reverberated in her mind. He remained intent and focused, his concentration never slipping, despite the copious amounts of eye candy on d
isplay. There were several women that Arianna found herself distracted by, yet Ajax never seemed to care. His attention was on the club itself, and her. Always making sure that she was with him, never allowing her to get left behind when they couldn’t stay linked together.
It was…chivalrous of him. That was the best word to describe his actions she decided, even if it didn’t entirely fit.
“So, where do we begin?” she asked once they had made a half circuit around the club.
“There,” he said, nodding his head across to the far side.
He didn’t point, and as her eyes focused on where he was looking, Arianna realized why.
Chapter Five
Ajax
Shifters.
He saw them moments before they saw him. Neither party did anything; they simply made note of each other’s presence.
“They look imposing,” Arianna said from his side.
“Security, I’m assuming,” he said, looking around the rest of the club.
It was an oval-shaped main room. Pillars lined the long sides, with space set back behind them. He could make out chairs and couches filled with people drinking and dancing, though it was clear those areas were more for relaxing than dancing. That particular activity had a clearly designated area. The middle of the oval was recessed a good five feet into the ground, and that was where the dance floor was.
There was a bar in the middle of it, underneath a huge glass chandelier that jingled in time with the bass, and lit up by various strobe lights that cast crazed patterns around the rest of the room. Two other bars were in the corners, designed to draw guests away from the middle of the room and make it appear fuller.
Upstairs appeared to have more space. Railings lined the edge, overlooking the dance floor. There were plenty of people up there, but Ajax couldn’t see a set of stairs. Perhaps it was a VIP-only type of area.
“So, what do we do now?” Arianna asked.
“Talk to the shifters,” he said.
“Right,” she said, stepping up beside him.
“Alone,” he said.
“What?”
“I need to go alone,” he told her. “They’ll know immediately we’re not together, and that will throw them off.”
He tried to ignore the feeling of sadness that came across him as he said that. What was going on with him? He barely even knew Arianna! Of course they weren’t together. Mentally shaking himself, Ajax pulled himself together, focusing on the task at hand.
“What should I do then?” she asked.
He felt bad, leaving her alone in a place like this. It clearly wasn’t her element, and he could tell she felt extremely uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly his place either, though he had frequented more than a few clubs in his day before he moved to Genesis Valley. Still, he’d been telling the truth when he said the shifters would trust him more if he were alone.
“Get a drink?” he suggested awkwardly.
“I’m not thirs—okay,” she said in defeat as she grabbed the bill he shoved at her.
“I don’t like it, but I think it’s going to work better this way.”
“Just don’t be long, okay?”
“Unless they have all the information on where to find him, I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised.
Arianna still looked unhappy, but he knew she understood and accepted it, even if she didn’t like it.
Without thinking, he leaned in and gave her a hug, wrapping both his arms around her. “Be right back,” he whispered into her ear, and practically took off before he could stick around to see the fallout from what he had just done.
What had he just done? Hugging her? Now is not the time for this. I need to focus.
The two shifters saw him coming from a mile away. He was the biggest person in the club, even bigger than they were, and the crowd parted for him. They were standing on either side of some steps to an upper level. A VIP area, he decided. As he got closer, he noticed a set of stairs cleverly hidden in the corner. That must be the way upstairs.
“Gentleman,” he said politely as he approached.
“Sir,” the far one replied.
Ajax focused his attention him. Training and experience had taught him, in a situation like this, the one who spoke up was also the one in charge.
“Are you on the list?” the second shifter asked after a moment of silence.
“No,” Ajax replied, “I don’t believe I am.”
“Only those on the list get inside,” the first shifter said, speaking for the first time.
Insecure in his authority. Interesting. He wondered if the man was just new, or was intimidated by Ajax. Straightening his spine, he loomed over the other man.
“I don’t recall saying I wanted to go inside. Do you?” he asked, making it very clear that he felt the other party should keep quiet.
The shifter fell silent, and Ajax turned his attention back to the first man.
“Now, I actually came over here to talk to you two,” he explained. “I had a question about someone you might know.” His tone of voice told them he was referring to other shifters. Both spines straightened immediately. They weren’t idiots; they knew what he was referring to.
“I’m looking for a Benjamin Martin.”
“Benji? He hasn’t been here in a week,” the first shifter said, earning himself a glare from his friend.
“So you know him?” Ajax asked, looking back and forth between the two.
“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t,” the one in charge replied. “Who wants to know?”
Ajax looked around. “I do,” he said simply. “A mutual friend of ours is concerned, and thinks something might have happened to him.”
The second shifter stepped forward. “And you? What do you think?” he asked, not backing down from Ajax’s larger size.
Tossing his shoulders to keep them loose, Ajax shuffled slightly to keep an equal distance between himself and both of the others. He wasn’t sure why asking after Benjamin had triggered this sort of response, but he wasn’t about to let the same thing happen to him that had happened to the other shifters. No two-bit security guards in a nightclub were going to get the better of him. He would never live down that reputation.
In the background behind the shifters, he noticed a man sitting in a darkened section who was leaning forward intently, focused on the drama between him and the guards.
“What about him?” he asked with a nod in the man’s direction. “Does he know what’s going on?”
As if aware that he was suddenly the focus of the conversation, the shadow man stood up and walked away, disappearing into the back through an unmarked door. Ajax hadn’t been able to pick up any detail about him besides the fact that, like the guards, he was another shifter.
“Hey, hold on a minute!” Ajax shouted, stepping forward to stop him. If he had been so interested in Ajax, he clearly knew something.
The pair of shifters closed ranks in front of him, cutting him off from accessing the VIP area. He snarled in anger, scaring off a server who had been walking by with a plate of Jell-O shots in her hand.
“Listen, fellas,” he said with fake camaraderie, “I just want to talk to him. See what he knows. I just want to find Benjamin.”
The whole situation was…off. The only one who seemed surprised by what was going on was him. The revelation of shifters in the nightclub—that they knew who Benjamin was, even his nickname—surprised him. But nobody seemed surprised by his presence. It was as if they knew about him already.
Almost as if they had been expecting him…
“Ajax?”
He turned and stepped back from the guards. The voice belonged to Arianna, but something was amiss. As he rounded on her, angry that she had shown herself to the guards, he saw what had caused the quaver in her voice.
On either side of her was a second pair of hulking shifters. He knew instantly that they had “escorted” her from wherever she had parked herself to here. It was a subtle threat on the part of the guards.
>
“Can we go?” she asked, looking acutely uncomfortable, surrounded as she was by so many shifters.
Ajax nodded. “Yeah, you know what, I think we can go. That’s probably for the best anyway.”
He made to step toward her, but as he did a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Ajax froze.
“If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it right now,” he said, his voice utterly tranquil, completely without worry.
There was a moment of hesitation, then the weight disappeared. “My apologies,” a voice followed. This belonged to the second shifter, the one in charge. He wondered what was coming next.
“Move aside,” Ajax gestured as he came to Arianna’s side, waving the two new guards away.
They stood their ground.
“Really?” he asked, his temper beginning to flare. “Can you move…please?”
The only response was for one of them to glance past Ajax.
“I think, instead, that the two of you should come with us.”
It wasn’t an invitation; it was an order. Ajax’s teeth ground together as he tried to keep his anger in check. For the moment he was keeping it bottled up, but his cage for it was slowly coming apart at the seams as the world continued to conspire against him and Arianna.
“I’m not going with you,” Arianna spoke up from his side, her voice firmer than it had been before. “Now move out of our way so we can go home.”
Around them, the party-going crowd seemed to sense the coming conflagration and began to move backward as if pushed. An open space on the floor suddenly appeared, surrounding the six of them.
Despite that, and despite Arianna’s command, they didn’t move. Realizing that he wasn’t going to get out of this peacefully, Ajax began formulating a plan. To his left was the exit. Two behind him, two in front of him. Couches to his right. Arianna directly in front of him.
Wait. Couches. Pillows.
An idea coalesced in his head and he acted without thinking. He picked Arianna up and gave her a heave into the nearest couch. She screamed, a noise quickly picked up by the rest of the crowd as they scrambled to put as much distance between themselves and the fight as possible. Only a few, either foolhardy or drunk, stayed close enough to be in any danger. Ajax filed them away in his head, in case they were neither and in fact more reinforcements for the guard.
