by Flynn, Mac
That conniving rascal grinned down at me. "Then allow me to escort you."
I clutched onto him as the pair of vampires rushed down the tunnel. "Hey! Wait up!" Dolf yelled behind us.
The three men and I zigged and zagged through the mess of tunnels for a few minutes until we reached a ladder set into the wall. At the top of the ladder was a manhole with a few round holes in its surface that allowed natural light into the darkness. I never thought I'd be glad to hear car horns honking and people yelling, but those wonderful sounds drifted down to us and I sighed.
Simon set me down and helped me over to the ladder. "Ladies first."
I dug in my heels and frowned. "Oh, hell no. I'm not going up there until I'm sure there isn't a lady up there with snake hair who's going to give me a stone facial."
"I'll go," Dolf offered as he stepped forward. There was a goofy grin on his face as he grasped a rung of the ladder and put his foot on a lower one. "I'm always willing to meet another myth."
Dolf climbed the rungs and slid the manhole off. A quick peek and he glanced down at us. "Come on. It's safe."
I was the next to climb up, followed by Simon and Certus. The manhole came out in an alley behind the Four Horsemen. Dolf helped me out and soon the four of us were comfortable in Simon's limo, courtesy of Certus. I sat beside Simon and Dolf was opposite us.
Dolf leaned back and stretched his arms on the back of the seat on either side of him. He slid down and grinned. "I don't know why you go out on these wild rides, Simon. I'd be happy just living this life."
"You forget this matter concerns me personally," Simon pointed out.
Dolf sighed. "I guess even the mighty Simon Cruor's fortune is nothing compared to that fleece." He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. "So what's the plan now? Got any fleece leads from the snake lady?"
Simon gave one of his famous crooked grins. "Georgina was kind enough to give a hint about its whereabouts before her attempted murder of us."
"So that's why we're going to this Silver Snake place?" Dolf guessed, and Simon nodded. "Any chance this Georgina will be there already?"
Simon shrugged. "Quite a bit, but it is our good fortune her 'cousin' and she are not on good terms, and she is barred from entering the Silver Snake."
I shuddered. "So is this guy sporting a head of snakes, too?"
Simon shook his head. "No. They are not truly related through blood, merely by association."
I arched an eyebrow. "Because of the place he owns?"
Simon chuckled. "Something like that, but what is important is Georgina doesn't have access to Sarpa, and we do."
I blinked at him. "What's a Sarpa?"
"The name of the owner of the Silver Snake," he explained. The limo slowed down and Simon glanced out the window. His eyes lit up and his slick smile grew longer. "It appears we have arrived."
CHAPTER 7
The Silver Snake was a classier joint situated at the end of the club district. The dark back alleys and tired-looking brick buildings were replaced by business-owned parking garages and glitzy restaurant fronts. People in top hats and dresses mixed with the more casual attire of polo shirts and skirts.
The Silver Snake itself was a mix of club and restaurant with a valet at the covered entrance. A red carpet led the guests through the glass doors and into a lobby guarded fiercely by a tall man who stood behind a slightly shorter podium.
Certus parked the car on the curb and opened the door for us. I watched the classy people walk by and glanced down at myself. "We might have a problem."
Dolf grinned. "We could just say we've been exploring the fine facilities offered by the city."
Simon chuckled. "I will handle our seeing Sarpa."
We stepped out and immediately the people around us skirted our bubble of toxic smell. Many of them clapped their mouths over their noses and quickened their pace. I swept my eyes over the crowds and unconsciously licked my lips. The scent of their pumping blood caught my nostrils and elicited a growl from my stomach.
I started when Simon grasped my hand in his palm. He didn't look at me as he watched the humans walk past us. "Sarpa would not appreciate our eating his clients."
The valet turned a strange shade of green, but stepped forward and held out his hand for the keys.
"If I may," he squeaked.
Certus clutched the keys to himself. "I will-"
"I would rather you came with us, Certus," Simon spoke up. He glanced at the pair of glass doors and smiled. "The more the merrier."
Certus grudgingly handed the car keys to the pimpled valet, and all four of us stepped inside. Our lovely scent du sewer invaded the luxurious lobby.
The man at the podium swung around his block of wood and waved his hands at us. He spoke in an accent as French as I was. "Shoo! Shoo! You cannot come in here smelling of such filth!"
Simon stepped to the front of our group and bowed low before the strange skeleton of a man. The astonished man stopped and blinked at him as Simon raised his head. "We wish to have an audience with Mr. Sarpa."
The man's pencil-thin mustache twitched and his eyebrows crashed down. "Non! Zis will not do!" He snapped his finger at the door. "You get out zis instant!"
Simon shook his head. "We will not leave until we have seen Mr. Sarpa."
The thin man stalked up to Simon and stuck his face in that of the vampire. "Who are you to be demanding zis?"
"He's Simon Cruor."
All eyes turned to the arched opening to the club. A ramp led down to the restaurant floor, and up this ramp wheeled a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. His face was wrinkled at the pair of chins he sported and tucked in one corner of his mouth was a thick cigar. He wore a gray suit down to the waist, and below that a blanket covered him to the footstool. His silver hair was slicked back and resembled a snake skin.
The thin man started back and momentarily lost his French accent. "M-Mr. Sarpa! Y-you know this man?"
Sarpa's eyes flickered to his employee. "Only an idiot doesn't know Simon Cruor." He wheeled himself up to Simon and sniffed the air. "Smells like you've been in a sewer."
"Courtesy of your cousin," Simon told him.
Sarpa arched an eyebrow. "I see. Let's get into my office before my guests lose their appetite, and I lose money."
Sarpa led our little group through a smaller arched doorway to the right of the front doors. It led to a small hallway, and against the wall opposite the arch was an elevator.
Our host pressed the down button and twisted in his chair to look at us. His eyes fell on Dolf and me, and he jerked his head towards us. "Looks like you're getting yourself a baseball team, Simon."
Simon smiled. "A team, yes, but not for baseball."
Sarpa chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard what you've been up to lately. You've got a lot of balls doing that. Basileus is just about ready to throw the book at you."
Simon bowed his head. "I will risk his wrath to amuse myself."
Sarpa sighed and shook his head. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?" The elevator doors swung open and we all stepped, or wheeled, inside.
"I merely wish to keep myself occupied during these long nights," Simon countered as the doors shut and we flew up.
Sarpa leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I'm serious about Basileus. He's had his eye on you for a while now, and that last stunt you pulled really ticked him off. He guaranteed the safety of that shipment himself, and for you to steal it from his jaws was a little too far."
Something diverted my attention from their squabbling. It was the blanket draped over his lap. I know I saw it move, but not normally. It sort of rippled, especially when Sarpa's eyes narrowed.
He leaned over the arm of his chair and glared at Simon. "Listen, Simon, I've known Basileus a lot longer than you. That's why I know there's trouble on the horizon for you." His eyes fell on me. "And I don't think you want to be involving certain people in that much trouble."
Simon frowned. "You concern yourself too much in my business."
"Simon has a way with hostage negotiations," Dolf spoke up.
Sarpa's eyes flickered to him. "And bringing some very unusual company, even for a vampire."
Dolf grinned and bowed as well as he could considering the cramped quarters. "Dolf Fortis, at your service."
A flicker of light flashed through the man's eyes. "Perhaps that might be arranged." The doors opened and revealed a short hallway with a few doors.
Sarpa led out small group to the door on the right, and we stepped inside his square office. The windows at the back of the room looked out on the busy street and the people who filtered into his restaurant.
He wheeled to the side of the desk in front of the windows and turned to face us. "I hope you won't mind if I stretch out a little." He stood and the blanket fell off his lower body.
My eyes bulged out of my head as I beheld a long, slithery snake body starting at his waist and ending in a pointy tail. Sarpa slithered off his wheelchair and to the other side of the desk where he stood in front of the windows. He clasped his hands behind his back and studied us like I gawked at him.
The snake-man chuckled and turned his attention to Simon. "It looks like your friend there has never seen a naga before."
Simon smiled. "I believe not."
I whipped my head between them. My mouth flopped open and I pointed at the snake guy. "A-a what?"
Sarpa leaned his scaly back against the windowsill. "I am a naga, a very ancient species of king cobra native to the Indian subcontinent. My ancestors were considered gods by some ancient religions, but-" he gestured to the office around us, "-as you see times have changed. We've been forced to take up employment or risk extinction."
"Did I forget to mention this minor detail?" Simon mused.
I spun around and glared at him. "Could you start warning me about all these weird people?"
Sarpa pushed off the sill and arched an eyebrow. "I'll let that comment pass this once, but just remember you're the strange one to me." He glanced down at my legs and shook his head. "What an impractical way to get around."
Simon stepped between us with his usual sly smile. "It would be a pleasure to continue this conversation, but our business is pressing. An item has been stolen, and we seek its return."
Sarpa folded his arms and pursed his lips. "I'm listening."
"It is a golden fleece. Georgina informed us she sent the thieves in your direction," Simon told him.
Sarpa shrugged. "Haven't seen them, but I am interested in this fleece." He set his hands on the desk and leaned forward. For the first time I noticed his pupils were slitted and held a bright yellow color. "This doesn't happen to be the one from myths, does it?"
Simon chuckled. "You would know that better than I."
Sarpa frowned. "I'm being serious here, Simon. Is this the fleece with the Midas curse?"
Simon's good humor fled and he eyed the naga with narrowed eyes. "What is it?"
The naga's eyes flitted from one of our faces to the other. "I'm sure you're all well-aware of the benefits of the fleece, but like all good things this one ends. If used too much by the same person,the user is themselves turned into gold."
Simon arched an eyebrow. "Is this condition irreversible?"
Sarpa straightened and nodded. "It is. And should the user cease to use the fleece they merely slow down the inevitable. Their fate is still sealed."
Dolf furrowed his brow. "I guess that's why a lot of people don't know about the fleece's other power. They're all got turned into gold statues."
Sarpa slid back to his wheelchair and drew the blanket over his snake body. "Precisely. If you're trying to avoid an alarm going up in the city about people turning into gold I recommend you find this stolen fleece and hide it where it can never be found again."
Dolf shrugged. "Good idea, but we don't know where it is."
Sarpa wheeled his chair towards the door, but paused beside our group. "I would start with the depositories in the Midnight Bank."
Dolf frowned. "Never heard of the place."
Sarpa chuckled and drew past us. "Then tonight is a good night to learn about it. But if you'll excuse me, I have clients to attend to. I'm sure you can show yourselves out after you've finished discussing the matter."
With that he left us, and more confused than before.
CHAPTER 8
"So what now?" Dolf spoke up as he looked around our little group. "Do we trust the old snake guy with this bank shit or what?"
Simon turned to him and nodded. "He is to be trusted. It is Georgina who we must investigate."
I frowned. "Why? Do you think she got to the thieves before they got to Sarpa?"
He shook his head. "No. In fact, I don't believe they ever left her office. Or rather, the vicinity of her office."
I started back. "You mean they're down there?"
He nodded. "Yes. Georgina is not particularly interested in wealth, but the power behind such wealth as the fleece would prove too tempting for her to ignore."
I clenched my hands into fists at my sides and narrowed my eyes. "You mean that snake tricked us?"
Simon pursed his lips. "More than once, and through her Phantoms she is aware we survived. However, she will not be aware we hold the information provided to us by Sarpa. That is our advantage."
"Are you sure we can we trust that snake?" Dolf persisted.
A smile curled onto Simon's lips. "If he had wanted to eat us, he would have started with you. Werewolves are a delicacy for the naga."
Dolf crossed his arms and glared at Simon. "That isn't very funny."
"But very true," Simon added as he turned to Certus. The silent servant stood close beside him. "Have we any plans of the Midnight Bank?"
Certus nodded. "Of the interior, but not for the extensive security system."
Simon glanced at Dolf. "Then we'll need the nose of our furry friend here."
Dolf narrowed his eyes. "This nose is going nowhere until it knows where it's going."
Simon chuckled and passed by him to the door. "As I said before, the Midnight Bank."
Dolf turned to follow the vampire. "That doesn't tell me anything."
"Ditto," I spoke up.
Simon paused at the door. He wrapped his hand around the knob and half-turned to face us. "The Midnight Bank is an exclusive depository for the wealthiest of paranormal creatures. It is where they store their most precious valuables."
Dolf arched an eyebrow. "So how come you haven't had us rob it yet?"
Simon smiled. "Because the resale of such rare items would be nearly impossible, and I would rather not clutter my penthouse with more books." Simon glanced at our werewolf friend. "There are thousands of boxes in the depository. We will need a powerful nose to lead us to the fleece."
Dolf cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Sounds like my kind of job."
Simon's eyes fell on me. "Now we should leave before Faith's better instincts take control."
Dolf blinked at him. "Her better-" his eyes widened. "Oh, that." He stepped away from me and sheepishly grinned at me. "You don't happen to have a taste for werewolf, do you?"
I glared at him. "I don't have a taste for anything except steak."
Simon chuckled and opened the door. "We will see if we can't procure a rare steak at a less crowded venue."
Simon led out small group out of the office and down the elevator. We stepped out of the elevator into the side hall. A young man in a black vest and pants, and a white shirt greeted us with a smile and a bow.
He gestured to a hallway that led around the elevator and to the rear of the building. "If you would, Mr. Sarpa has requested that I was to show you to the back door."
Simon smiled and bowed his head. "Then lead the way."
The young man led us down the dark hall filled with doors and to the back e
ntrance. He grabbed the knob on the door, but Simon set his hand on the man's shoulder.
"A moment," Simon requested.
The young man half-turned and blinked at him. "Is something wrong, sir?"
Simon's sharp eyes studied our guide. The corners of his mouth turned down. "Is Sarpa aware of your being a werewolf?"
I whipped my head from Simon to the young man. He blinked and his eyes revealed the yellow hue of the werewolf.
A sly smile slid onto the young man's lips. "He isn't even aware I'm here."
The man spun around and jumped backwards. His back slammed against the door and both tumbled into a dark alley behind the restaurant. The door clattered against the puddled ground, and the young man flipped and deftly landed on his feet atop the door.
He stood and gestured to Simon. "If you want to know what Georgina has planned, then fight me."
"Don't mind if I do!" Dolf yelled as he rushed past us.
Simon stretched out his hand, but missed catching our wolfy friend. "Wait!"
Dolf leapt off the short cement porch just outside the doorway. He transformed mid-leap and aimed his landing at the man atop the door.
A shadow flew from the side and knocked Dolf off course. The shadow and Dolf tumbled to the ground and stopped on their feet in a hunched position. Dolf curled his lips back and growled. The shadow did the same, and I realized it was a werewolf.
I heard doors open and bang against the walls behind us. I spun around and my eyes widened as I watched a small army of werewolves burst from the side rooms. They stampeded down the hall on all fours with their teeth gnashing and their claws clacking against the hard floor.
"Out!" Simon yelled as he grabbed my arm and dragged me into the alley.
Certus was behind us, and he took a defensive position in the open doorway. The first werewolf met his hard fist, as did the second, but the others behind them slammed into him, knocking him into us. I was knocked loose from Simon's hold and stumbled into the middle of the narrow alley. More shadows with yellow eyes dropped from the roofs above. Their long faces filled with sharp teeth snapped at us.
