The vampire was rushing forward before I could finish pulling the trigger. That doesn’t mean I didn’t get off a shot. I hit him square in the chest. Too bad I’d loaded for demons.
A wooden bolt would have paralyzed the vampire, but the metal I shot him with didn’t even slow the guy down. I was going to die and I wasn’t even wearing shoes. There was something tragic about facing death in your bare feet.
Thankfully, it wasn’t my day to die. One second I was about to have my heart ripped out and the next I was shoved against the wall. The vampire’s claws had been so close to my chest, I was scared to look down. I took a breath and felt the front of my dress, surprised it wasn’t covered in blood. My shoulder hurt like hell, but I was alive.
I stared across the room where Forneus stood over the vampire—the vampire who had just tried to kill me—the demon’s walking stick thrust through the vamp’s chest.
Forneus had saved my life.
I’d finally got my answer. Not all demons are evil. When it mattered, Forneus had risked his life to save my own. As I’d often fantasized, there was the trace of a good man under that bad boy exterior. The demon was no Boy Scout, but then, what would be the fun in that?
I gazed into Forneus’ worried stare and warmth spread through my body. As he came closer, my hands twitched, aching to grab hold of his powerful arms, and then run them along his chest, his back,…
“Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded, blushing painfully, and pushed away from the wall.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said. I pointed at the faerie woman’s corpse crumpled on the ground, like a fallen ragdoll, just a few feet away. “But I can’t say the same for her. We need to get her to a hospital.”
Forneus winced and looked away.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said. “She’s dead.”
“Um, okay, and him?” I asked, pointing toward the vampire.
Forneus had creatively used his wooden walking stick to stake the vamp through the heart, but I was pretty sure that didn’t mean the bloodsucker was dead. It takes a lot to kill a vamp. But I suppose if paranormals were easy to kill, then Jenna and her Hunter friends would be out of a job.
“Oh, he is still very much alive…as alive as any undead creature ever really is,” he said, walking over with measured steps to stand over the vampire.
“You’ve been a very naughty boy,” he said, glaring down at the vampire. “I’m sure the Vampire Council will be interested to learn of your arrogant disregard for the law.”
The vamp’s eyes flicked to what I’d come to think of as “the torture room.” I’d only caught a glimpse of the room as I chased after the faerie woman, looking for potential threats. Forneus walked over to investigate, but I stayed put. One glimpse into that room was more than enough.
Forneus’ shoulders tightened and he pulled the door closed.
“Yes, the Council will be very interested indeed,” he said. “Too bad they won’t have a chance to punish you for your crimes.”
He spun on his heel, flame dancing along his fingers, and returned to loom over the vamp.
“Say hello to Lucifer for me,” he said to the vamp. “I’m sure the two of you will soon be well acquainted.”
He pulled the walking stick from the vamp’s heart and placed a fiery hand on his chest. Within seconds the vamp was replaced by flames and, finally, ash.
Forneus looked away, brushing vamp ash from his hands and tugging on a glove he pulled from his coat pocket. I wanted him to look at me, to give me the chance to show him how I felt. He’d saved my life and given me hope that my feelings for him were more than misdirected rebellion.
“Thank you,” I said.
I stepped into his arms, hands sliding across his chest. I licked my lips, tilted my head back, and looked him in the eye.
“For what?” he asked, voice uncertain.
“For killing that creature, for looking out for me, for saving my life,” I said.
I reached up to touch his face, letting my fingers linger as I slowly traced his lips, jaw, and neck. He was like a puzzle I’d only just started to figure out—the separate, distinct parts of him coming together for a complete picture that overwhelmed the senses.
Forneus sucked in a breath and I hesitated, pulling back slightly. Had I somehow offended him? Had I gone too far? Did he think I was only doing this out of some sense of duty, to thank him for saving my life?
“I am always at your service,” he said softly, leaning closer. “If you will have me.”
I could feel a slow smile touch my lips as my breath quickened. I pulled him closer and rose on tiptoes to meet his scorching gaze.
“Yes, Forneus, I will,” I said, letting my lips brush against his.
Forneus groaned as I slanted my mouth across his, heat flowing between us. His hands moved in slow circles down my back, pulling me closer. My lips parted and our kiss deepened.
It was a good thing Forneus was immortal, because I could kiss the man forever.
But all good things come to an end. I heard Ivy bust into the room, swearing, “Oh hell, no.” Forneus and I broke apart to see Ivy and Torn both rush into the room and take in the grisly scene. I reluctantly stepped away from Forneus.
Ivy narrowed her eyes and focused her attention on me.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I nodded, pausing to catch my breath. That had been one amazing kiss.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks to Forneus. You were right about Puck. The guy was an asshat. I didn’t catch all the details, but I’m pretty sure he was drugging and selling girls to sicko vamps who got off on torture.” I bit my lip and stole a glance at Forneus. “I saw that girl…hanging in the other room, but I appreciate what you tried to do.”
“I only wish I’d arrived sooner,” he said. He reached out and took my hand. “I would have preferred to have saved the girl and to have kept you from seeing the depths of such depravity.”
I gave his hand a squeeze and looked searchingly into his eyes. How could I have been so blind as to think this man was a monster?
I wanted to pull him close and forget about my friend’s stares and the corpses littering the floor, but something latched onto my hair. Pain seared through my scalp and I gasped. A true monster had me in his grasp and my crossbow was out of reach.
I felt the bite of a blade against my neck, and then everything went black.
DEMONIZED
The ogre glared at me from beneath his unfortunate simian brow, waiting for my response. His considerable bulk blocked the entrance to Club Nexus and one sizable hand twitched over the gun strapped to his barrel-like chest. Subtlety was not an ogre’s strong suit. Speaking of suits, this creature’s taste ran toward pimp chic. The fabric was cheap and shiny, reflecting light from the single working bulb on this street.
“Forneus, Great Marquis of Hell,” I said, focusing on the bouncer’s beady eyes and avoiding being blinded by his hideous taste in fashion.
The ogre leaned forward, sniffed at the air with a nose the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, and grimaced. Unpleasant oaf. Apparently, he didn’t care for the aroma of fresh brimstone. Of course, I could mask the sulfurous scent of Hell, but where would be the fun in that? The ogre examined me from head to impeccably dressed toe.
“Don’t get many demon lords here,” he said, furrowing his substantial brow.
“No, I daresay you wouldn’t,” I said. “Not with that witch working with the Hunters’ Guild to maintain their so-called peace over the entire city of Harborsmouth.”
The ogre spat, narrowly missing my shoes. Now it was my turn to grimace. The cretin had utterly appalling manners. Dressing an ogre in a cut-rate suit does not a gentleman make. Before the vile creature could cough up any more distressing substances, I waved toward the door and forced a smile.
“May I enter?” I asked.
A clipboard materialized from thin air, but I was unimpressed. I’d been using the same trick with clients for eons. I ta
pped my foot, careful to avoid the pile of phlegm that rivaled the size of most cats—perhaps it actually was a cat?—as the ogre consulted his magical guest list.
Finally, the hulking faerie stepped aside and muttered, “You may enter.”
I smoothed the front of my waistcoat, tugged at my gloves, and took up my ebony walking stick. The ogre didn’t check the polished wood and therefore did not discover the sword hidden within its shaft, which was for the best. Weapons were not entirely forbidden inside the club, just unauthorized bloodshed, but I preferred to keep my secrets. You never know when you’ll need a little surprise up your sleeve or, as in this case, inside your perambulatory accessory.
Plus, the hidden blade was made of cold iron. Iron was the one weakness of all fae creatures, a vulnerability that would leave any faerie who touched it powerless. If the ogre tried to handle my sword, he’d get a truly unpleasant surprise.
Hell help any faerie run through with cold iron. The Fair Folk may be immortal, but they are not immune to a painful death. I grinned and walked jauntily past the ogre, into a dark passage and onto an extravagantly wrought spiral staircase where I began my descent into the abyss of otherworldly delights.
From my aerial vantage, I took in the appalling number of fae housed beneath one cavernous roof. Though I rarely grace the establishment with my presence—my last trip below must have been years ago—not much had changed since my earlier visit to the raucous nightclub. Immortals are not fond of change.
Unnatural music wove through the air like dancing phantasms, reaching its spectral fingers into dark places better left untouched. I gritted my teeth and stifled the urge to tap my boots to the discordant rhythm. I searched the room for the woman I’d followed here, an unfamiliar sense of foreboding filling my chest.
It had been centuries since a human had piqued my interest, longer still since anyone had stirred feelings of lust and longing, but there was something unquestionably magnetic about the woman my eyes now frantically sought.
Jinx had entered Club Nexus with her friend, and business partner, Ivy Granger. Granger was a dangerous enough companion, but Jinx’s decision to enter the fae nightclub was nearly suicidal. Faeries and vampires both enjoy the diversion of a winsome human and Jinx was an absolute vision of beauty.
Lucifer’s pointy pitchfork, what is wrong with the woman?
I gripped my walking stick in a stranglehold until my eyes fell on Jinx and her psychic detective friend seated at the bar. I hurriedly made my way down the stairs, slowing only as I crossed the dance floor. I licked my lips, shivering in anticipation.
I’d come here to ensure the woman’s safety, but now that she was within reach, I was overcome with the need to feel her touch—even if I’d have to settle for a crossbow bolt through the chest. One gloved hand drifted to my side where I’d recently received the sharp end of a letter opener. Jinx was nothing if not feisty.
I sauntered to the bar, smiling when Jinx caught my hungry gaze. For a startled moment her face was an open book and her expression mirrored my own. Desire smoldered in her eyes as she absently stroked the crossbow at her shoulder.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “Buy you a drink?”
My words were cut off abruptly by a knife at my throat. Ivy had gone from ordering drinks to threatening violence. From Jinx it would have been enticing, but coming from her glowing friend, the gesture was maddeningly annoying.
There was a minor altercation with club security for engaging in violent behavior—behavior that threatened bloodshed without having first filed the appropriate paperwork (yawn)—but eventually I extricated myself from Ivy’s blade, slipping my arm from Jinx’s shoulders with a look that promised a rematch later in the evening. Our business was not complete, but, for now, I was content to watch from the sidelines. The prudent course of action was to wait for Ivy to calm down and for club security to lose interest.
Not a problem. I could be very, very patient.
I sauntered away from the bar and settled in to wait. Unfortunately, my patience was rewarded by the appearance of Puck. I cursed under my breath, hands twitching along the catch that would release my sword from its wooden sheath. Whatever that trickster wanted with Jinx, it couldn’t be good. I pushed my way through the crowd, hoping to catch their conversation.
I stopped mid-stride, head snapping back as if slapped by an invisible hand, as Jinx led the angelic looking faerie onto the dance floor. If the reverse had been true, I’d have sliced Puck’s hand off—and to Hell with the consequences—but Jinx was acting as the aggressor. I hoped she lived long enough to regret the dubious decision.
I briefly closed my eyes and had to look away when Puck’s hands settled on Jinx’s full hips. I never thought I’d envy the trickster, but at the moment I’d pay handsomely to trade places with the predatory scoundrel. I paced restlessly, gathering the courage to continue my observations.
When I looked back, Jinx and Puck were leaving the dance floor, heading back toward the bar. I followed at a careful distance, not wanting to alert Puck to my presence.
I tried not to focus on Puck’s hand resting possessively around Jinx’s waist. I didn’t wish to see any additional displays of affection from my rival, but I had come to ensure Jinx’s safety and that was a duty I would carry out, no matter how vexing the task.
At the bar, Puck proceeded to fix a drink for Jinx and I expelled a pained breath as I watched the white powder dissolve in her glass. This was too much to bear. The trickster was trying to drug the woman I’d come here to protect. I launched myself forward, ready to knock the glass from Jinx’s hand, but I never had the chance.
Before I could reach the bar, Ivy toasted Jinx and Puck, knocking the drugged beverage to the floor. Moments later, Ivy swayed drunkenly on her stool and tumbled to join the puddle of alcohol and shattered glass.
What the Hellfire was going on?
I wasn’t sure what Ivy was up to—had she also caught a glimpse of Puck’s attempt to drug Jinx?—but I knew the detective well enough to guess that her drunkenness was a ruse. Jinx’s friend was more uptight than a Puritan in a bordello. She’d never willingly drink enough alcohol to lose control, certainly not here in a club filled with immortals carrying millennia of potential nightmare visions.
I tugged at my gloves, a slow smile replacing my earlier scowl. I may not know what game Ivy was playing at, but I did enjoy the temporary result. Puck was frowning, his hands opening and closing at his sides as if he’d like to wring the wisp princess’ neck. Well, we’ve all felt that way at some time or other, but at the moment I was quite pleased with the woman’s performance. Anything that angered the trickster was splendid in my book.
As I watched, Puck left Jinx’s side, stalking away from the bar and toward a vampire who stood waiting at the edge of the dance floor. I followed at a discreet distance, humming and twirling my walking stick to the music, the very image of blithe ignorance. He passed a key and a small bag containing a white, powdery substance to the vampire and kept moving.
Puck continued on toward a door at the back of the bar. He looked furtively to his left and right, slid a key of his own from his pants’ pocket, and unlocked the door. With one last glance around the room, the faerie slipped inside.
My curiosity was piqued. The trickster’s behavior was interesting, indeed. Puck may have pulled the wool over Jinx’s eyes, but I knew what he was capable of. If he was sneaking off into the back rooms instead of fawning over a pretty woman, no matter how annoying her friend, he must be up to something particularly despicable. Perhaps if I could catch him in an act of heinous trickery, I could convince Jinx to keep her distance from the cretin.
At the edge of the dance floor, my walking stick caught on an imaginary bump in the floor and I stumbled forward into the arms of the vampire I’d witnessed make the recent transaction with Puck. I brushed off the vampire as if ridding him of demon germs, patting him down and retrieving his key in the process, and muttered
an effusive apology.
The man raised a hand as if to push me away, but froze when I allowed a flicker of flame into my eyes. There was one thing that all vampires fear and that is fire, immolation being a very real threat to the perpetually dehydrated undead. Satisfactorily humbled, the vampire accepted my apology and I continued on my way, nonchalantly following Puck’s trail across the room.
I approached the door he’d entered, aware that Jinx remained with Ivy at the opposite end of the bar. With her best friend watching her back and Sir Torn, one of Ivy’s new allies, nearby, I felt confident leaving Jinx in the club while I pursued Goodfellow.
Distracted by thoughts of Jinx, I nearly didn’t notice that I was not the only one in pursuit of Puck. I pulled up short just in time, slipping between a pair of lounging succubi seconds before a vampire in cowboy boots strode to the door with his own key. As the vampire unlocked the door, a tall, beautiful faerie who’d been tending bar rushed to his side. Her arms were laden with soiled towels and she kept her eyes downcast, but I could tell she was highborn fae.
I wondered how Puck had managed to ensnare the royal faerie into the lowly position of bartender. Knowing Puck, it involved foul trickery. Even knowing the trickster’s abilities, it was still surprising that he’d maneuvered himself into the position of running the club’s bar. It was, judging from the transactions I’d witnessed so far, a profitable deal for Puck. If he didn’t have designs on Jinx, I might even have admired the faerie’s enterprising tenacity.
I waited patiently for the vampire and Unseelie faerie to disappear into the back rooms before extricating myself from the succubi.
“Ladies,” I said with a nod.
The succubi, one raven haired, the other blonde, pouted and stretched catlike, showing off their various assets, but I wasn’t interested. Succubi are a dime a dozen in Hell, but a stubborn, beautiful, kind-hearted, yet somewhat violent human woman like Jinx? She was a rare gem indeed.
Leaving two sets of pouty lips behind, I stalked toward the end of the bar. Reaching the door to the back rooms, I slipped the burgled key from my pocket and attempted to fit it into the lock. Had I been mistaken about the key? I raised my brow at the difficult lock and leaned closer to see what could be the trouble. At closer inspection, I could see that the doorknob was frosted over and the lock was filled with ice.
Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective) Page 5
