Shade City

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Shade City Page 15

by Domino Finn


  We probably don't want him to know you're there, though. It might change... What are we expecting to happen anyway?

  "Shit, I have no idea. The Royals are placing themselves close to Soren in hopes of possessing him without much notice. That requires a change in his lifestyle and circle of friends. This party is a start to that."

  What if they mean to take him tonight?

  "We can't rule it out. We need to be ready for anything." I leaned back on the sofa, abandoning the research into the service companies at the party. "One thing is for sure, he will have contact with Red Hat agents, maybe even the Royals. Trailing him will get us a list of people to watch."

  I picked up my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts until my finger rested on Soren. Violet had a point. What I did best was blend in with the other partiers. Showing up in the garb of an employee would hinder me more than help. Better to keep things natural.

  It's a risk to let him know.

  I knew it was. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't show up with nothing.

  Before I could call Soren, I heard a firm knock on my door.

  No one visited me. Not unannounced. I had no family in California. I wasn't dating anyone, and if I were, they wouldn't show up without a phone call or there wouldn't be any more dates. No. It had to be a mistake. Or a solicitor. I remained seated and waited for the person to go away.

  Instead, they knocked again, this time louder. I sighed and got up, in a mind to not be very polite to the person handing out flyers or trying to sell me magazine subscriptions. Without much thought, I swung the door open. A large Armenian man towered in the hall.

  I nearly jumped but I didn't want to alarm him. Really, I didn't want to show him that I was alarmed. "Bedros," I said coolly.

  He pulled his hand from behind his back and presented it in front of him. I'm not proud to admit that I flinched. Then I saw that he was offering me a glossy black envelope. "With compliments. From Mr. Ambrose."

  I almost laughed. I was a bit embarrassed about the flinching thing, but it was more than that. This gruff man was attempting to be genteel. It was unnatural. Just as it was for Bedros to be an ally. He should be trying to smash my face in. I should be putting him in a headlock. Still, the man harbored no hostility towards me at the moment. While I didn't reciprocate the feeling, that grudge was best left for another day. I took the envelope.

  Bedros gave a curt nod and walked away without another word. He didn't even gloat.

  Back on the couch, I opened the envelope with the delicacy of a child on Christmas. Inside was a rectangular flyer on thick stock, twice as glossy as the wrapping. A small red bow was tied around the bottom and held a ticket the size of a business card, in the shape of a red hat.

  It was a formal invitation to the party.

  Still think the catering thing is a good idea?

  "Still think your father can't offer us anything?"

  It was a petty retort. I regretted bringing it up, mainly because the topic skirted dangerously close to admitting that the two of us had a lot to talk about.

  In truth, I wasn't comfortable with Alexander Ambrose one bit. Case in point: he'd sent his goon to my front door. No one had ever come to me like that before.

  I hurried to the closet and retrieved a hammer from my toolbox. I pounded a single nail in the middle of the doorframe, above the front door. Then I scooped Soren's horseshoe ring off the coffee table and slipped it in place. In the old days, real horseshoes were hung in thresholds to ward off spirits. I was hoping the ring at least worked on Armenians.

  * * *

  Griffith Park is a funny place. It's the Central Park of Los Angeles, more or less, except that it's much larger and more sprawling. The park contains mountains, hiking trails, the famous Hollywood sign, the Greek Theatre, and the Los Angeles Zoo. Still, despite its size, it is easier to miss than its New York counterpart. It doesn't sit in the middle of Downtown flush with skyscrapers; it's offset from the city proper a bit, extending to Hollywood and Burbank and lining the Valley.

  The scope of the park is impressive. In places it appears feral, more like a state park than a municipal one, but if one keeps to the roads it's easy enough to navigate. Near the bottom edge of the grounds, sitting on the top of a mountain and facing the LA Basin, is the Griffith Park Observatory.

  This public science center is an Art Deco wonder. Besides the planetarium shows, everything is free, making accessible to the public, among other things, a Tesla Coil and a pendulum that swings with the rotation of the Earth. The large domes, intricate tiling, and mountainside grounds create pure architectural splendor.

  And tonight it was all closed for a private party.

  On the road below, a guard checked my invitation just to drive farther in. I found a parking spot with some difficulty, and it was still a fifteen minute hike to the peak, during which I passed another security checkpoint on foot. There were lots of trees and natural paths that avoided the street. I silently took note of which routes were clear in case I would need to sneak out. From my passing observations, no staff was guarding the forest.

  The sun was nearly set and the sky was filled with an otherworldly pink that blended into a deep blue overhead. Not a cloud on the horizon. The view of the city, washed clean of the smog by the recent rain, was breathtaking. The air was clear and the streetlights began to glow: the magic of the night was upon me already, even before I heard the music.

  Techno winded through the trees and descended the mountain to the ears of those climbing the steps. A series of blue lights around the observatory lined the large courtyard and revealed the packs of people standing on the grass. Although I could see the event in the distance, it still took another five minutes to wind around the street to reach it. There, a man in a suit patted me down and checked my invitation. Easily enough, I entered as a guest.

  The trance music was deafening.

  This was an industry party, for sure. From their styles of dress and their attitudes, I quickly pegged several musicians, promoters, and donors. It wasn't just Red Hat either, but their associates. There was enough here to appear legitimate, at the very least.

  As I stepped through the crowd, I brushed my shoulders against the throng, searching for second shadows. Again, despite my initial expectations, everything was above board. Not a shade in the house. That set my mind at ease. I'd been afraid I was walking into a wolves' den. Now I was just hoping I'd be able to find the predators among the prey.

  I slipped the Hamilton watch into my hand.

  Well, we're here.

  "Mmm hmm," I hummed under my breath.

  Now what?

  "Isn't it obvious?" I asked, watching the crowd swirl before me like the rough seas. "It's time for a drink."

  I found the bar and ordered a Bacardi and coke. The selection wasn't my fault—that was the only rum they had. And if that was weak, the pour was even worse. It was hard to work the bartender at a place like this, too. Either they had been told to skimp on the alcohol or they didn't know what a proper drink tasted like. I finished my cup in the same area while I got a lay of the land, then ordered a double the next time around.

  Don't you think you should go easy on the rum?

  "I've—"

  Got it under control?

  I smiled. She was familiar with my methods by now. I wanted to give her a snarky reply but there was a cute girl standing next to me and I didn't want to explain about my talking watch. Still, Violet had a decent point. It wasn't that I couldn't handle my drinks—but it was quickly getting dark.

  The courtyard was divided by a stone spire. The DJ, and the thick of the crowd, were on the opposite side. After I sipped my drink down enough so that it wouldn't spill, I entered the fray. On the makeshift stage were two guys spinning on old-fashioned turntables that sat in antique suitcases. Their music was spooky and sampled old radio shows and the like. It was experimental in a way that Soren might have liked, better than his stuff even, but DJ Ingress was nowhere around. I kep
t wandering.

  The inside of the building was closed off. That's what I was told, anyway, when I approached. It seemed believable since I doubted the museum could handle this kind of crowd. No one visibly went inside, either. But since I found myself with nothing else to do, I decided to double-check.

  The side of the grounds had a line of port-o-potties, each attracting a pilgrimage of worshippers. I strolled past to the walkway running along the observatory and climbed the stone steps. There was no security in sight.

  The building had multiple levels and paths surrounding it, all outdoors and freely accessible. As I headed to the back, some small groups walked by me. The strong smell of pot flooded my nose. Of course. The music was fainter here and there was less added lighting due to the event. This was the perfect place to chill out away from the crowd.

  Just in case Soren was somewhere out here, I circled the grounds.

  "It's still early," I said, swinging the watch.

  That means we might have three hours of DJs to wait out.

  "Nah. No way Soren is headlining. They'll put him up first."

  Or last.

  "Maybe, but he'll be around otherwise. That's when we need to be watching him anyway. I was hoping there would be another DJ booth somewhere, but that doesn't look to be the case."

  We were alone near the back railing, on a thin walkway set against the building and the sheer edge of the mountain. It made for a beautiful view. I leaned against the railing, listening to the muffled music, rubbing the chill air away.

  It's good to be on the hunt again.

  I winced. That sounded dangerously close to a lead-in to a conversation I didn't want to have.

  "What are we doing here?" I suddenly asked. The unspoken nagging doubt was the only distraction that came to mind. "This doesn't feel right."

  I sighed and studied the moon. Maybe I was getting jumpy for no reason. Granted, I didn't take Alexander Ambrose directly at his word—there was no way he was being completely straight with me—but I would have come to this party with or without him. As the man had said, I was close enough to discovering everything. Why, then, did I feel as if a piece was missing?

  I heard a giggle below me. To the side of the building, the way I had come, there was a walkway leading down the mountainside. Not all the way; it was just a gated path with a view. I noticed two girls hopping up the steps.

  I approached them as they reached the walkway. The girls were Asian, and I had seen them before. I was particularly interested in the short one wearing bright yellow. I was on the level above them and they were going the other way, so I had to call out.

  "Eva!"

  The straight platinum hair spun around and her doe eyes were wide open for a brief moment. Then the recognition hit her and she smiled.

  "Dante!"

  "Good memory," I said. I waved to her friend, not sure if I had ever caught her name. "What are you ladies doing out here?"

  Maybe it was because I was standing on a platform just above her, looking down, but she seemed shorter and skinnier than when we had last met. Not in a bad way, though. The tight yellow dress she wore hugged her form well. Her cleavage and legs competed in showing more skin and the moonlight caught a shine on her lips. I was immediately struck by how beautiful she was. I wanted her more than ever.

  "I," she said, pausing to place emphasis on herself, "was invited." She looked up at me questioningly. "I didn't know you were in the biz."

  "You don't know anything about me," I answered with a smile.

  She stood still and batted her eyelashes playfully. "I know you probably crashed this party like you wanted to crash my little K-town shindig."

  It was true I had wanted her to invite me, but then I never would have hooked up with Rachel. I thought things worked out for the best. "What were you afraid of? That I was dangerous?"

  "No," she said. "Where we were going, they don't let white people in. White people talk to the police." Her friend giggled.

  "I'm the last person that would shut down an after-hours drinking operation."

  "They don't know that. For all they care, you could be an undercover cop yourself."

  I nodded smugly. She wasn't making this easy. "Who said I wasn't?"

  Her girlfriend started walking along the overhang, towards the staircase that would lead them up to my level. Eva followed her slowly.

  "I didn't know there was anything here worth keeping an eye on," she said.

  I walked along the upper rail, in step with her. "From where I'm standing, I'd disagree." Eva tried to hide her pleasure at my compliment, but I caught her forming a slight smile. She continued parading behind her friend. I finished the rest of my cocktail in a single gulp and set the plastic cup on the railing. She was sexy, and the banter was fun, but I wanted to get to more important matters. "What is it that you do, Eva?"

  She looked at her friend as she started up the staircase. "I'm a... promoter... at Korean clubs." The friend said something in the language and they both giggled. I stopped and waited for them at the top of the steps. The girls were having an interesting time of it in their high heels.

  "Any places I would know?" I asked. They just giggled again.

  At the top of the staircase, I held out my hand to the friend to help her up the last step. She accepted, but as I tried to do the same for Eva, the friend stumbled and pressed against me. I caught her and she leaned into me, staying for a moment. By then, Eva had already sauntered by me, shooting me a glare.

  "Liz is drunk," she said. "It's shameful. Koreans are the Irish of the Asians. They should be able to handle their whisky."

  I had to think about that for a second to make sense of it, but it was hilarious. "A girl who knows how to drink. I like you more already."

  Liz kept leaning on me for support as I escorted them back to the front courtyard. I wanted to disengage with her so I could get closer to Eva, but I didn't want to look like a dick. It was bad enough that I was one. Still, I suspected that Liz wasn't as drunk as she was acting and that they were having fun with me.

  By the time I had gotten Liz to stand up on her own, Eva disappeared around the corner ahead of us. We hurried to catch up but the crowd was thick. I couldn't see her. Liz grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bar.

  There was a different DJ spinning now, some bald Mexican dude who wasn't wearing a shirt. The beat was harder and more disjointed, with some dubstep influences, and the crowd was more active. I still didn't see Soren anywhere.

  As we pushed to the bar, Eva was already coming back with three plastic cups half filled with liquor.

  "Chivas," she said, handing them to us.

  I wasn't the biggest fan of scotch, but this wasn't the place or time to object. I held my glass up to match the girls.

  "One shot," said Eva, and we downed the oversized drinks.

  My mouth burned with a pleasant heat. We all laughed. I knew I was on a job, but I'd always been able to do two things at once. Besides, being at a party without finding fun was worse than work. Liz took the empty cups away. I saw an opening and put my hand on the small of Eva's back to pull her closer to me.

  Unyielding and with a great sense of momentum to it, the feeling struck me like a train. As my arm brushed against her, I could feel the foreign presence that resided within her. The second shadow. Eva, this beautiful, fun girl, was taken.

  She caught my momentary shock and looked at me strangely. "What is it?" she asked.

  "You're..." I started. I didn't know what to say. The realization didn't sit well with me, but I had to play it off. I couldn't let her know that I knew. Not here. Not now. "You're so small," I said, looking her over. "I bet I can pick you up."

  I grabbed the girl by both shoulders and lifted. Her hands clutched the back of my neck. I was never wrong about this kind of thing, but something in me hoped I'd made a mistake. As I spun around in a full circle, her small feet trailing in the air, there could be no denying it. She was one of them. Before I released her to the ground, I
took one last breath of her platinum hair. As our cheeks lightly brushed, I privately cursed my hidden talents.

  Just this once, I wanted to be normal.

  She giggled as Liz returned and they both shared a devious exchange in Korean. Each of them grabbed one of my hands and dragged me to the dance floor.

  Maybe it was the whisky, or maybe it was being sandwiched between two pretty girls, but I let the music take me over.

  * * *

  Two skinny black dudes shared a set, and then a guy with sunglasses and a cowboy hat took over. This was the only stage at the party and the DJs only had twenty or thirty minutes each to make an impression. It was a lively time, one I began to enjoy rather than observe. Dancing and drinks led the night toward its end, and I had still not seen Soren.

  It's now or never.

  Violet had put up with me long enough. Perhaps, after what had gone down on the Dead Side, she'd given me more leeway than usual. She didn't start complaining the second I was hitting on a girl. But even I conceded that I was stretching the limits of what was reasonable. I couldn't dance with Eva all night.

  I herded them to the side of the dance floor. It was a cool night—not uncomfortable—but our bodies were slick with sweat all the same. I needed a chance to stop. To think.

  The girls wanted to walk to their dark path and smoke a joint.

  "I'm looking for a friend," I said, shaking my head. "He said he would be here."

  "Come on," said Liz. "Don't you want to go somewhere quiet?"

  I did. I really did. But I changed the subject all the same.

  "Eva, do you know any of the DJs spinning tonight? Have you heard of DJ Ingress?"

  She shook her head. "I'm more customer-facing. I don't deal with the musicians at all. Most of them are jerks anyway. Let's go. It'll be quick."

  The problem, I decided, with working at parties was that I could never cut loose. Not completely. "How about I catch up with you later?" I offered.

  They tried to convince me some more, then Eva got a little hot and complained. I thought her little tantrum was cute. It reminded me of the first time I had seen her, yelling outside a taxi. It wasn't anything serious, just part of her personality, and her friends were used to it. Liz calmed her down. They eventually left me by the dance floor, and I again set myself to searching the crowd.

 

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