Dark Descent (Codex Blair Book 3)

by Izzy Shows

  "What does it say?" Finn's voice was gentle yet prodding, with an underlying current of all the questions he wasn't asking.

  "She was found at a strip club," I said, clenching my teeth together. "Of all the bloody places to die, a strip club. Do you know what this is going to do to her sister?" My voice broke and I shook my head. "It's not her MO, Finn. She wouldn't be at a strip club."

  "You didn't know her," he said, still gentle. "Most siblings wouldn't even know that the other is going to a strip club."

  "I'm telling you, she wouldn't go to one!" My voice had risen to an untenable level, and I saw the surprise on Finn's face.

  Why was I so worked up over one victim?

  It was the question we were both asking ourselves, but I didn't have an answer for it.

  "Well, that's where she was found," he said. "That's all the information we have to go on."

  I nodded my head. There was no point in arguing it. This was the truth, as much as there was to anyway. I had my own suspicion—that she had been lured there, compelled, something.

  She wouldn't have gone into a strip club willingly, but I was going to.

  15

  "When you invited me to a strip club, I must say this was not what I had in mind," Mal said from beside me as we walked towards the doors of the club.

  I threw him a sharp glare. "Shut up. You knew better."

  "I suppose I must have," he said, heaving out a dramatic sigh. "You can't blame a man for hoping."

  "That a woman invited him to a strip club because she had other intentions with him? I think I could blame a man for that."

  "Don't be a prude. Plenty of couples enjoy strip clubs together."

  I rolled my eyes, but I had to give him that. Plenty of other people had no problem enjoying this kind of thing together, and I don't suppose I had a real problem with it. But Mal was not someone I was involved with, so it was an entirely different scenario.

  "Can you just behave for the time that we're in here?"

  "You seem to be operating under the assumption that we'll be able to get in and talk to anyone. These people are notorious for not wanting to deal with people who won't pay them."

  I flashed him a mischievous grin then. "That's what you're here for." I waggled my eyebrows, turned, and continued walking inside.

  I won't say I wasn't anxious to be inside a club, because that would be a lie. I had never been to a strip club before. Not that I had anything against the men or women who performed, it just wasn't something I had an interest in. Why would I bother with something that amounted to being teased if I was in the mood for something more? You don't go to a mattress shop when you're tired. You go home and go to bed.

  Most of my bravado faded away as I reached the front desk, behind which two women were giggling and talking to one another. They were cute, a redhead and a brunette, and while they wore skimpy clothing it was clear that they were not there to perform. They were staff.

  "Can I help you?" The redhead asked as she took sight of us, though her words were directed at Mal.

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. How typical. I suppose I didn't exactly look like the high rolling type—jeans, T-shirt, hoodie, and a leather jacket didn't give off that vibe. Mal, on the other hand, looked like just the guy you wanted in your club. His black hair was slicked back, he wore a black button down shirt with a red tie, and black slacks. On his wrist was a gold watch. But while it all helped, it was the promise of illicit danger in his eyes that always got a response no matter who he was talking to.

  The poor girls didn't stand a chance against him.

  "I should hope so," he said, his voice coming out coated with sugar. He wrapped an arm around my waist, and I did my best not to stiffen. It made the most sense to pose as a couple.

  "We're not here for pleasure, Mal," I said, despite my earlier thought. "We're here on business."

  He looked down at me—I was a tall woman, but the damned Fallen was even taller—and his lips turned down in a pout. "Why can it not be both, cara mia?"

  I glared up at him, my own lips twitching as they wanted to turn into a snarl at the giggling that erupted behind the counter.

  He brushed his lips across my forehead—and dammit if my gut didn't clench in response—then turned his attention back to the women. "My darling has a few questions for you, and if it would be possible, we would also like to speak to some of your dancers. We, of course, are willing to compensate them for their...time." I didn't know how he did it, but he somehow managed to make the most innocent request sound like an innuendo.

  The redhead was visibly affected, her collar bone having turned red and splotchy from the blush creeping there. She rubbed a hand absentmindedly at it, smiling at Mal the whole time.

  "I'd love to answer anything you want," she said. How did she speak with a smile that wide? I didn't know.

  "Thank you," he said with a small dip of his head. "Darling?" He was speaking to me now, a playful smile on his lips.

  I wanted to punch all of them, but somehow, I felt that would be in poor taste. I didn't see the point in all this flirting, in making people think that something was going to happen when we were here on business. But wasn't this what I had brought Mal here for? To sweet talk the staff and smooth the way for me to talk to people? I had to remember that before I stopped him from helping me.

  It just didn't feel like help when he was flirting.

  "There was a woman here last night," I said, fishing in my pocket to pull out the picture I'd obtained from her sister on my way home from the mortuary. I hadn't told her that her sister was dead yet, a part of me was still hoping that I could get out of this without doing that. I showed them the picture. "Her name is Sara Clements. Do you recognise her?"

  Please don't recognise her. It was a vain hope, but one I entertained all the same. I wanted them to say that she hadn't been here and that she didn't look the type to ever come into a place like this. It was ridiculous, because I knew that she had been here. This was where her body had been found, it had been in plain English on the report.

  Just goes to show, you can't stop your heart from being a fool.

  "Oh, yeah, I remember her," The brunette spoke up, coming to lean at the counter.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You do?"

  "Yeah, I remember because it was just so weird that she was here. We don't get a lot of women coming in, you know, so it's easy to remember them. But she was odd, because she was such a home body looking thing, she looked like the type who stays in bed on a Saturday night, not one who comes out to a...well, to here," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

  I sighed. Somehow, none of that made me feel any better.

  "You're sure it was her?" I frowned, looking down at the picture I'd put on the counter top.

  "I'm sure," she said. "I remember her."

  I tried not to, but it felt like I was a balloon that had deflated.

  There's no point in caring, Blair. Let it go. She's just another victim. I tried to tell myself that, but it didn't work. And you know what? I didn't want it to work. Fuck being 'just another victim.' I couldn't ever let myself get to a point where someone was 'just another victim.' They all had to matter, else there was something wrong with me.

  I let out a loud breath of air. "All right, so she was here. Was she with anyone?" My voice sounded hopeful.

  "No." One of her eyebrows arched, and she shared a look with her partner.

  "What?" I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets to hide the way they clenched into fists.

  "Nothing. It's just...why does it matter if she was with anyone?"

  "Are you aware that she's dead, and she was found here?" I couldn't keep the edge from my voice.

  Her eyes widened. "N-no..." She stumbled over the word. "I didn't."

  "Whatever," I said, pulling out a hand to wave it in a horizontal cutting motion. I was done with her. "Can we talk to your dancers now?"

  The brunette looked up at that. "They're working." Her hea
d jutted forward just a bit when she spoke, eyebrows lifting, mouth slightly open even though she didn't say anything further. Everything about her said that this was a bigger deal than I realised.

  "I don't—" I started to speak.

  "Please," Mal said, cutting me off. "Allow us to enter the club, we won't interrupt their earnings."

  The girls looked at one another again, before looking back to us. The redhead nodded.

  "Cover fee is forty pounds...each."

  I looked up at Mal and smiled at him. His returning smile was not near as warm as mine, but he pulled out his wallet and paid the woman all the same. What did it matter if he was glaring at me while he did it?

  We entered the club, and I was immediately thrown by how...surprising wasn't quite the word, but it was the best I could come up with. It was surprising.

  I had never been in a strip club before, so the entire experience was foreign to me. I don't know what it was I expected, but it wasn't a room made up of tables, full of men, a giant stage, and two side stages. All three were occupied by women performing, one quite adept at the choreography she used on the pole. I was impressed, but somehow, I didn't think the other patrons were admiring her skill.

  I darted a glance at Mal, and was again surprised to find that he was not affected in the way I had expected. He was surveying the room with a lazy eye, taking it all in but not drooling over the women.

  "Come, we should find a table," he said, placing his hand at the small of my back as he guided me to an empty seat.

  "Why?" I wanted to talk to women, not sit down and watch them dance.

  "Because, this is how it works, cher." If he kept changing languages all the time, my head was going to spin. "We sit, we wait, and one of them will approach us."

  I made a disgruntled noise, but sat all the same.

  I didn't know where to look; I didn't want to stare at the women dancing, my cheeks burned every time my eyes drifted over to them, but looking at the table just seemed silly.

  I settled for picking at a loose thread on the seam of my jeans, glaring down at it as if it had done me some great offense.

  "I didn't take you for the blushing type," Mal said. He pitched his voice low, yet still audible over the music in the club.

  I jerked my gaze over to his, but only managed to hold eye contact for a moment. There was heat in his eyes that I hadn't been prepared for, and I felt my colour increase at the same time.

  "I'm not blu—" The words died on my lips before I could get them out; I was blushing. I couldn't help it. I raised my eyes to meet his with a glare. "Shut up."

  "Eloquent." He chuckled, flashing his charming smile at me.

  I debated repeating myself, but decided against it.

  "They're just women, Blair. Doing what they want, enjoying themselves. I believe the intent is for everyone to enjoy themselves."

  "I don't see how anyone can enjoy themselves watching people like this," I said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

  He made a small sound—agreement? I couldn't tell—and shifted his weight in his seat so that he was closer to me. He lifted a hand and brushed a stray hair from my face.

  "There is something to be said for the enjoyment of gazing at a woman," he said, his eyes locked onto mine. "But I would agree with you, that to...touch is far more."

  I felt my heart beating faster, vaguely aware that my chest was rising and falling a little too quickly. I tore my gaze away from his, batting a hand up to knock his away.

  "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you can stop."

  I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye and shift back in his seat.

  "Well, you two look cosy." A sultry voice intruded, belonging to a voluptuous blonde woman who had somehow slunk over here without drawing my attention. She sounded jealous.

  I arched an eyebrow, glancing at Mal, but there was no recognition in his eyes. No reason to be jealous then. I looked back at her and did my best to smile; it may have come out as little more than a grimace.

  "Hello, love," Mal said, his voice a purr, and the smile he gave her seemed very genuine.

  She brightened instantaneously. She moved forward, her hips sashaying from side to side, and perched on his lap. "Would you like a dance?" She matched his purr with one of her own, hooking her arms around his neck.

  He grinned down at her, but his eyes flicked over to meet mine and I felt him brush against my mental shields.

  Curious, I lowered them.

  Would it be horrible of me to dump her on the ground? He sent the thought to me.

  I slapped a hand over my mouth and looked away from them to keep from barking out laughter. That I had not expected.

  Yes, it would. Are you not enjoying the ability to touch a woman instead of looking at one?

  “I don’t think a dance was quite what we had in mind,” Mal said, speaking to the woman.

  She was not the woman I wanted to touch, he said.

  My cheeks flamed and I held myself in place, looking away from the two of them. Another thing I had not expected. After a few calming breaths, I turned back around, to see the blonde withdrawing her arms from around Mal's neck.

  "I'm not that kind of girl," she said, standing up.

  "What he means, is we wanted to ask you a few questions," I said with a sigh. "He's just being an idiot."

  Cruel. I'm having fun.

  I cast him a dark glance. The point stands.

  "I don't have time for that," she said, and she looked like she was about to leave.

  I stood, planting my hands on my hips as I glared down at Mal. "Malphas."

  With an exaggerated sigh, he reached beneath him and pulled out his wallet. "We had no intention of occupying your time without recompense."

  She looked at his wallet, then at me, then at the ground for a moment. I could almost see the gears in her head turning as she contemplated whether it was worth it.

  "It's twenty pounds a song. The rate is the same no matter if I'm dancing or talking," she said at last.

  Mal shrugged. "It makes no difference to me if you want to talk and dance at the same time." He pulled out the bill and gave it to her, she tucked it into her bra.

  I kicked him.

  He yelped, glaring at me. "Please, do take a seat," he said through gritted teeth, gesturing to one of the chairs.

  I took my seat and so did she.

  "Well?" She looked at him impatiently, ignoring me altogether. Quite like she had been the entire time.

  He seemed to have picked up on that as well, because now he looked at me with eyebrows raised.

  I cleared my throat. "Did you work last night?"

  "Yes, so?"

  "There was a girl here, Sara Clements, she died."

  The woman's brusque demeanour faded and she stared down at the table, nodding her head absentmindedly. "I remember."

  "Did you see anyone with her, perhaps she met someone here?"

  "No…she got a dance, I think. I didn't recognise the dancer, though, I thought she was a new girl."

  I leaned forward, eager to have something of a lead. "OK, that's good. Did you find out who the dancer was? There was no mention of that in the case notes."

  She looked at me for a long moment, and I had the distinct impression she was about to let me down. "That's because there was no dancer by the time we found her. And I looked all over, asked the other girls, no one even saw her."

  The succubus. It made sense that she would work out of a strip club, but why had Sara even been here to begin with? That was so confusing.

  I realised that I had been silent for a few minutes, and both were looking at me.

  "Thank you, but I think we've taken up enough of your time. This has been a dead end." I stood, looking at Mal expectantly.

  "No problem." The blonde stood as well. "I'm sorry about...Sara."

  I nodded. "Yeah." It was all I could think to say.

  Blair—

  I slammed my shields down before he could say anything fur
ther. I'd let him in for long enough.

  "Come one. We're going to check Serenity and see if the trail's gone cold there too."

  16

  The sun had set by the time we made it to Serenity.

  "I still think you should have changed," Mal said as we walked up to the doors.

  "I cannot believe you're bringing that up again."

  "What? Is it so wrong to think you should blend in?"

  "Do you remember what happened the last time I blended in?" I stopped walking and turned to glare at him, fists on my hips. I was in my same get up, only we had gone home so that I could grab my thigh holsters and wands. I was in full gear, and there was a reason behind that. Last summer I'd been snatched walking home from Serenity when I'd had no gear on at all, and the idea of going in without gear was enough to give me a panic attack now.

  The idea of going in with no gear and wearing some skimpy club outfit? That would put me in a corner clutching my knees. No, thank you.

  Mal seemed to remember that now, an emotion flashing across his face too fast for me to name, and he nodded.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of that."

  I shrugged, uncomfortable. "It's whatever." I turned and started for the doors again, but his fingers clasped my wrist like a shackle, halting my forward movement.

  "It isn't. I'm sorry."

  I looked over my shoulder, first down at his hand on my wrist and then slowly dragging my eyes up to meet his. There was a promise in my eyes, and it wasn't a kind one.

  He let go.

  Without saying another word, we walked inside.

  The world exploded into a cacophony of light and noise, strobe lights and fast paced music assaulting the senses the moment the doors welcomed you inside. I felt the muscles in my jaw throbbing and realised I was clenching my jaw shut, my hands had fisted at my sides, and every sense I had was on high alert.

  I wanted to leave.

  It hadn't been so bad when we'd come here the other night, the night the first mage had been attacked. Why was it so much worse now?