This was new for me, though, and I wasn't quite sure how to, for lack of a better term, handle it. I was generally fine staying single, but the tool in my pocket let me know it was time to mingle. Hitting the club seemed like a good start. At the very least, I could have a drink and relax a little before taking matters into my own hands.
After a quick stop to buy some better clothes, I jumped on the Netherworld subway system and rode it to the entrance to the city center.
Every major type of supernatural had their section of the city, which connected to their own mostly segregated areas. But the city center was a hodgepodge of races, open to everyone without fear of being attacked. Well, besides drunken brawls, muggings, and your standard crime, of course. The PPD office was within the main city limits, too, easily accessible via the metro.
After grabbing a quick snack from a street vendor, I pulled up the city map using the tech from my new tattoo and set the coordinates for Club Dream. It sent directions through my connector, and within five minutes I saw the neon sign for the club up ahead.
I'd researched the place a little on the ride over.
The djinn owned it and operated it as a way to make money from those who preferred to have their brain chemistry altered by alcohol. Their other club, Club Djinn, specialized in hallucination trips instead of booze.
Judging by the line outside the door, it was a success, though it would be interesting to see how much business they got during the day. There were enough non-nocturnal types that most businesses had a skeleton crew active during slow times.
No, not literal skeletons, at least that I'd seen. Necromancers were tolerated about as well as warlocks.
As soon as the bouncer, a half-shifted werewolf saw me, he rushed forward and grabbed me by the arm.
"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," I rasped. “Plus I’m a cop, so be cool, okay?”
"Mister Vedis," he said, without emotion, “it is so nice to see you. Mister Für is waiting for you in the VIP section.”
Though not forceful, the bouncer didn't let go of my arm until we were in the club. That was probably a good idea, judging from the irritated snarls and evil looks sent my way from everyone still stuck outside. One beefy-looking guy even spat at me.
The inside of the club had a definite Las Vegas feel, ornate to the point of obscenity, not that I got much of a chance to look around. I was handed off to another bouncer after getting a few steps in. Well, maybe not a bouncer, but she was extremely bouncy, in all the right places. The woman was tall, redheaded, and stacked in ways that would make Jessica Rabbit feel inferior.
She smiled and put her arm around my waist.
"This way, Mister Vedis," she said, escorting me to the back of the room, before leading me up a winding staircase to the second floor.
She typed in a number on a keypad on the door.
It opened, revealing a large room that was subdued, but showed what real money looked like. No fake gold here, just rich-people furniture, food, and females. Everything I saw practically screamed ‘I’m better than you.’
At the center was a giant white couch, filled with women.
Bert was in the middle, wearing a custom pink tuxedo, eating a huge piece of deep-dish pepperoni pizza and wiping the grease and sauce off his hands on the couch. Apparently being rich didn’t mean he had any manners or sophistication…not that I’d thought he did to start with.
“Hey, Mark," he said, digging between the cushions. “Glad you made it.” He pointed to a large, but very attractive blond woman sitting on his left side. “You remember Rhonda from prison, right? The one who laughed while I got tased?”
I didn’t recognize as a human, but I took Bert’s word for it.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, unable to hold back my concern at seeing her. “How’s it going?”
She waved lazily as she struggled to keep her head up. “Pretty good. I’m drunk off my ass, and my husband doesn’t know where I am.”
“Well, aren’t you twelve shades of classy?” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Nice to see you.”
She raised her glass to me, then fell back on the couch and passed out, spilling her drink everywhere.
It looked like Bert was going to be buying a couch.
My guide let go of me and turned to talk to Bert.
“Are we good for now, muffin?” she asked. “The perimeter is secure, and my people are working to keep paparazzi and onlookers away.”
Bert yanked his hand out of the couch at last, pulling a fat stack of cash with it. He motioned to the girl, who practically bounced over to see him.
"Thanks, babe," he said, handing the stack over to her. "Half of that's for you. Spread the rest of it out to the others on the crew, please. I'll double that if everyone takes good care of us tonight."
My eyes practically bulged out their sockets.
I wasn't really the greedy type, but Bert had just handed over at least ten grand, and promised another twenty. That was almost enough money to pay my salary for a year.
The girl giggled, put the cash in her remarkable cleavage, then leaned over and kissed Bert's cheek.
"Sure thing, doll,” she cooed. “Let me know if you need anything.” She nibbled on his ear. “I mean anything.”
Anything?
Oh.
Ohhh!
I had just enough time to blush as she moved past me, "accidentally" rubbing her breasts on my arm as she placed a business card in my hand.
"If you ever make as much money as your friend, give me a call,” she said before winking and sauntering out of the room.
I checked out the card.
On the front was a picture of the girl, completely nude, except for a gun held against her breasts. The back, which I eventually looked at, said "Cynthia’s Succubus Security Company - Saving your ass and rocking your world."
My blush got even deeper. I hoped my slightly dark skin would hide it.
It didn't.
Bert laughed and pointed to a chair next to the couch. "Sit down and relax. Your boner is making everyone uncomfortable."
I dropped into the chair and crossed my legs, even though I knew I wasn’t putting on a tight trouser show. Strangely, the thought of sleeping with Cynthia was slightly revolting, though I didn’t know why. She was the kind of woman any straight guy would trample a herd of nuns to get to, but she just wasn’t flipping my switch… even before I might be getting Bert’s sloppy seconds.
Don’t get me wrong, I was definitely keeping the card, but the idea of sleeping with her just didn’t do anything for me. My dick was clearly quite interested, but my brain was clearly against the idea.
In fact, the entire room was filled with astoundingly beautiful women, but none of them made me want to jump their bones. It was like there was a voice in my head saying I shouldn’t sleep with them.
Wait.
A voice in my head?
Motherfucker, there was a voice in my head.
The entrainment!
The words I’d heard while I was in the tube had placed hypnotic suggestions in my head that I shouldn’t make more warlocks. Those suggestions were really hard to counter since they were magically and technologically reinforced. Did that mean I wasn’t going to be attracted to anyone that I could make a baby with?
Was I seriously going to be dealing with lust issues that were only relieved by playing a game of yank-n-dribble?
I didn’t want to think about that at the moment, so I focused elsewhere.
"Nice room, Bert,” I said, almost forcefully. “Where did you get the cash? Last I recall, you were naked. Not a lot of room in the old prison pocket, ya know?” I tilted my head at him. “You smuggling diamonds or something in there?"
He held out his thumb, which was glowing slightly in my mage…err warlock sight.
"Simple,” he answered. “I used my energy signature at the counter and tapped into my allowance, called in a tailor on a rush job, and then arranged for some entertainment."
"Energy signature?"
"Yeah, you never heard of that?" He smacked himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand and winced at me. "Sorry, pal, I forgot that you're poor."
He pulled out another slice of pizza and took a huge bite before he continued.
"Lots of classy joints like this have energy scanners now, and those that don't usually have an ATM that does. As long as I have a pulse I've got money. My mom's money, technically, but I'm comfortable with that.”
He used his thumb to wipe imaginary dirt off the lapel of his jacket, the effect slightly ruined by the large drops of tomato sauce he rubbed into the fabric.
"Royalty does have its privileges."
My stomach growled at the sight of the pizza. That steakburger I’d eaten earlier had been a long time ago, and the snack I’d taken from outside was just enough to remind me how hungry I was.
Bert must have noted me staring longingly at his slice of pizza, because he said, “Shit, sorry about that. Kind of forgot about you. You want something to eat? How about a drink? Tonight's on me."
I wanted to reiterate that it was technically on his mom, but then I'd also be reminding him that drinks were the only thing that wanted to be on his mom.
I didn't want to spend the rest of the night apologizing.
So, instead, I ordered some food and drinks.
Some people might feel bad about accepting charity. Not me. I’d never accept a bribe, but I’d damn sure accept a free meal.
Within five minutes I had a huge steak burrito in one hand and a Bahama Mama in the other. Judge all you want, but mixed drinks are awesome. The fruitier the better.
Things were finally looking up, at least until the shooting started.
Chapter 15
Cynthia burst into the room, followed by the werebouncer from outside.
There was a coldness in her eyes I hadn't seen before as she moved to secure the area, efficiently and professionally, without a trace of her earlier flirty behavior.
It was easy to tell she was much more skilled than I was. About security I mean. I assume she was better in her other job too, since she was a succubus, not that I had much to brag about in that area.
She pointed to the women on the couch. "Crew, cover the client and his friends."
Damn, they were all succubi? That explained how Bert had got them all so quickly.
They sprang into action.
Bert had jumped behind the couch as soon as the shooting started, but poked his head up now that things seemed to be handled. Strange behavior for someone who had just faced down a monster.
"What's going on here?” he asked, hanging onto the leg of one of the suddenly-deadly prostitutes.
"Unclear sir," Cynthia said, motioning for the bouncer to cover the door. "Six creatures pushed their way into the club. My people are holding them off as best they can, but normal ammunition isn’t doing much.” She studied the perimeter. “We need to get you out of here, in case they somehow get past them."
"There should be an emergency escape here somewhere,” Bert acknowledged with a look of angst. "Let's get a fucking move on."
One of the ladies had been pushed in the center of the booby patrol with us instead of joining the guard effort. She was good looking, if not quite on the same level as a succubus, with pretty brown-hair and green eyes. She also wasn’t showing nearly as much skin as the rest of the group, which is probably why I hadn’t noticed her.
She looked vaguely Asian, but not enough that I could place where she was from. That was a losing game most of the time anyway. Like it or not, we all do kind of share similar characteristics and there’s a lot of mixing between the countries. Yes, I’m counting myself. I’m a little Asian, but grandpa never talked about his ancestors, with good reason apparently, so I didn't even know enough to correct racists when they yelled insults at me.
The woman pulled a badge out of her pocket. "Officer Mira Enchada, Badlands PPD. How can I help?"
Cynthia didn't hesitate. "Cover the window while we plan an exit. We'll hold off the assailants and cover the prince’s escape."
Mira nodded and got in position, pulling a small gun from her boot.
"Wait a minute,” I said in the midst of the mayhem. “What kind of creatures are we talking about here?"
“We don't know,” Cynthia answered, looking perturbed at my interruption. “They seem to be from different races, but they all look wrong, somehow.”
“But you referred to them as ‘creatures’.”
She shrugged.
“Seemed fitting,” she replied. "If I had to pin them down, I'd say they were Frankensteins."
I felt my burrito threaten to come back up.
Shit.
“How much you want to bet they’re the same as the guy we fought in the bar?” I said while grabbing Bert by the arm and giving him a terrified look.
“Elias?” he asked, his eyes darting about. “That would be weird, huh?”
“Exactly.” My blood pressure was through the roof. “I mean, what are the odds we’d run into more like him in a bar?”
He scratched his chin. “Maybe being fucked up looking makes you an alcoholic,” he said. “I mean, you’re ugly as shit and you were sucking down your drink like a two dollar whore.” He then looked at the ladies around him. “No offense. I know you girls are way more expensive than that.”
That Bert felt the price of sex was the offensive part of that statement was telling, but I didn’t have time to dig into all the ways he should be having his ass handed to him right now, so I got to the point.
“Look, we’re supposed to investigate these guys anyway, but it’s pretty obvious to me that someone sent them after us.”
“And?”
“This is our mess, Bert,” I stated after a few seconds. “We have to take care of it.”
“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “And why would we? We’re safe up here.”
“Seriously?” I said. “Those people out there are dead unless we do something. Stone said we’re the only ones who’ve taken one of those beasts down.”
Bert pointed at me a few times, looking like he had an equally strong argument to offer against my strong argument. He faltered after each attempt, though.
“Good point,” he admitted, finally as he chewed on a claw. Then, his eyes lit up. “Hey, I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s run away instead.”
I grabbed his suit jacket as he turned to run, holding him in place. In response, he started chewing on his arm, like an animal stuck in a trap.
This didn’t make any sense. Usually I was the coward, or at least the one most willing to acknowledge reality, but now that I had the power to seriously ruin some bad guy’s day, I was feeling cocky.
What was Bert’s deal? Where was the rage and bloodlust he’d brought to the fight earlier?
“Let me go, man,” he said between bites of his jacket. “This isn’t my fight. I didn’t ask to get dragged into this. You can go die if you want, but I’m out.”
This was honestly baffling.
“What the hell, Bert?” I said, yanking him back to face me. “We ripped Elias a new asshole together. Literally. His intestines and colon came out, if you may recall?”
He looked at me, but kept chewing. “Yeah, about that. I didn’t see anything before I was thrown into you. I was mostly a passenger when we we’re squished together. When I was in there, I didn’t have any control.”
“Bullshit.”
I shook him, just a little, until one of the bodyguards stared at me and pulled a knife out of her cleavage. I stopped shaking him, but held on to his jacket.
“Come on, Bert. You were all about death and destruction before. I’ve never felt anger like that before.”
He looked up from his chewing. “You really don’t know anything about Bonding, do you?”
“You know I don’t.”
“I’ll keep it simple, then. All that macho ass-kicking and shit?”
His eyes peered into mine. “Yeah, that was you, pal.”
“What?”
“That’s why,” he continued, “aside from the power, of course, people are afraid of demonic Bonding. We merge temporarily, but the Bond lasts forever.” I gulped. “Throwing a demon into a person unlocks their base desires and emotions. All that stuff you keep way down inside. But it gets better,” he added while glancing around. “Not only are those desires unlocked, the demon provides the power to act on them.”
I let go of him.
“Damn,” I said while reevaluating everything. “No wonder people are afraid of you.”
“Us,” he said, poking me in the chest with his claw. “They’re afraid of us. Actually, you. What you’ll make me do, anyway.” He grunted. “I’m just a glorified battery here, and to be honest, you seem like a pretty repressed guy. I’m seriously glad you didn’t whip your dick out while you were rampaging.”
Again, he tried to run, but he was surrounded by his harem, who were taking their guard duties very seriously.
There was nowhere for him to go.
“Wait a minute,” I said as he looked back at me forlornly. “You’re saying that when we aren’t merged you’re—”
“A yellow-bellied chicken-shit scaredy-cat pussy?” he finished for me. “Yep.”
“Wow.”
Mira, who had been watching the window, pushed her way past the guards and gave me and Bert a sharp look.
“I have to get down there,” she stated. “You civilians stay up here, or find a safe way out. I can’t protect you right now.”
I coughed. “I’m, um, actually a cop too.”
She looked me up and down, then snorted. “You’re very brave sir, but please leave these matters to the professionals.”
I should have been offended, but that happened a lot. Nobody ever believed me when I told them I was a PPD officer. Usually I had to show people my badge to be taken seriously, but I’d already had to turn in my Kansas City PPD shield and I wasn’t due to pick up my IDU identification until hitting Bangkok.
Mira gave me one last glance, frowned, and then made her way to the door.
Cynthia blocked her way.
“I’ve already called the PPD and they’re sending reinforcements,” Cynthia said, not budging from her position. “Mister Für is our client. As soon as we evacuate him we will leave the situation to the authorities.” She nodded at Mira. “I suggest you come with us.”
Bangkok Warlock: A Mark Vedis Supernatural Thriller Book 1 (Southeast Asia Paranormal Police Department) Page 8
