Club Eternity: The Ninth Jonathan Shade Novel

by Gary Jonas

  “It's all right, Kelly,” I said. “Let her go.”

  “I can't take her down,” Kelly said, surprised.

  “You're quite strong,” Dalina said. “I'm impressed. A normal person would have died from your attack.”

  “I know,” Kelly said. She released her legs and swung back to the ground.

  Dalina brushed herself off and straightened her dress. “Fear not, the flat of the blade is harmless. It will feel cold, but it won't hurt you.” She drew the scimitar again.

  I stepped forward. “Knight me,” I said.

  “I'm not amused.”

  “Oh well.”

  She placed the flat of the blade on my shoulder. It was cold and it tingled, but she was right, it didn't hurt.

  “Your soul has been collected, but you still have it. How is that possible?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “Your turn,” Dalina said to Kelly.

  Kelly gave her a look that suggested if Dalina did anything untoward, that Kelly would take that flaming scimitar and shove it right up her ass.

  Dalina grinned and placed the flat of the blade on Kelly's shoulder. “Your soul is in use by another at the moment, yet you still have it too. But it is not a copy. Both are originals. That is impossible.”

  “Yes, we're impossible,” Kelly said. “As such, we should be granted entry into Club Eternity.”

  “We can't take your souls. Yours is already gone, in spite of being hooked to your body, and hers is in use by another.”

  “A hundred grand should have been sufficient,” I said.

  “You have other accounts.”

  “Of course.”

  “Give them to me and I'll grant you a guest pass.”

  “Lady, do you have any idea how much money I have?”

  “You'll be impoverished if you wish to enter Club Eternity.”

  “I have billions of dollars.”

  “Not if you wish to enter.”

  “Forget it then. Open the door and let us out.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn't work that way. You came through the door of your own accord. The door doesn't open from this side.”

  “So he has to pay or we die here?” Kelly asked.

  “Essentially.”

  “That's not right,” I said. She couldn't do that. Could she?

  “Pay her,” Kelly said.

  “I've been rich and I've been poor,” I said. “Rich is better.”

  “Pay her.”

  There wasn't really a choice. She was our only way out of the pocket dimension. I grumbled a bit more, but finally relented and started giving her all the account numbers. She took them one by one and transferred all my money out of my account and into theirs. Billions of dollars spent in moments. I wanted to sit down and cry.

  “Any more?” she asked. “I'll know when I place the scimitar on your shoulder again. It will tell me whether or not you're being honest.”

  “To be clear, this covers entry for both me and Kelly. You're not going to double cross us and leave one of us here.”

  “The guest pass will admit both of you. What I can't do is guarantee your safety once you've entered the club. If you upset someone, they might kill you.”

  “We'll take our chances.”

  “The account?”

  I sighed and gave her the last number.

  She placed the blade on my shoulder and lifted it with a smile.

  “Don't you feel better?” she asked as she handed me a plain paper ticket coated gold with the words Admit Two embossed in black on the edges.

  “Can’t say as I do.”

  “Well, you should. If you'll both step onto the platform here, we'll descend into Club Eternity. Put these on.” She took two silver bracelets from her pocket and handed them to us.

  “What are these?”

  “In your parlance you can think of them as the wristband you wear when you enter a club to show that you paid your cover charge. Thank you for your patronage.”

  I wasn't big on jewelry, but I put it on anyway. Kelly did the same, but I suspect she saw it as a handy tool to remove someone's eye should she need it.

  We stepped aboard and the platform dropped through the floor. My stomach felt like it shot up through my throat, but our descent slowed and the music grew louder. Blue lights cut through smoky air and soft jazz flowed around us. We stepped off the platform into Club Eternity.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  From the low ceilings to the red lighting to the red brick walls to the long bar with bottles of booze stacked just-so to the soft jazz playing through the speakers, Club Eternity reminded me of a speak-easy. There were leather sectionals in two corners where large men and women gathered for drinks and discussions, and smaller circular tables lining the walls with padded stools surrounding them. Most of the tables were occupied. All of the patrons wore the same style silver bracelets Kelly and I'd been given. The far corner was a stage where several electric and acoustic guitars stood in a line next to a standing bass, and a cello. A saxophone hung on the wall behind the stage, and several standing microphones stood at the front of the dais.

  The bar had one seat not taken by an individual. That seat looked to be saved by a giant club hammer. The brawny guy on the next seat had long blond hair, and a beard that would make Billy Gibbons jealous. He turned to look at Kelly and me as we stepped closer.

  He growled something unintelligible.

  “Sorry, man. I didn't get that,” I said.

  “Oh, you speak the English. I can speak the English too. I do not recognize you or you,” he said nodding to me and then to Kelly.

  “I'm Jonathan Shade, and this is Kelly Chan.”

  “Your beauty runs deep,” he said to Kelly. “Move Mjolnir and join me.”

  “Me ol near?” Kelly said. “What's that?”

  “My hammer,” he said with a grin. “And I do not mean the one on the seat.”

  “I'll pass, thanks.”

  “Hold on a second,” I said. “You're Thor?”

  His chest puffed out a bit. “I am.”

  “You don't look anything like Chris Hemsworth,” I said.

  His eyes narrowed and his fist closed around the grip of that massive hammer. “You do not see the resemblance?”

  “No, I don't,” I said, looking for a way to save my ass. “I think they should have gone with someone better looking than Hemsworth to bring your magnificence to the silver screen.”

  His hand relaxed and the hammer settled back onto the seat. “It's the Hollywood,” he said. “They could have done worse.”

  I backed away. “Nice to meet you, sir. And congratulations on having a day of the week named after you.”

  Kelly smiled.

  “What?” I asked. “He would have killed us.”

  “Not that,” she said, adjusting her hair. “I just had a god try to pick me up.”

  “Let's start with the bartender,” I said.

  The bartender in question appeared to be a woman in her early to mid-thirties, but as the clientele was immortal, she might be, too, though being an immortal in the service industry didn't seem like much of a win to me.

  I approached the end of the counter, trying not to disturb any of the people at the bar. They were talking amongst themselves, nursing multi-colored drinks. One guy had blue skin and wore a turban. A slender woman with unnaturally long fingers stirred her drink seductively then licked her claws as she gave the muscular man she spoke with a little hair flip. The guy at the end of the bar looked to be Japanese, but could have passed for an alien on an old episode of Star Trek. His eyes were mostly filled with gold, and he didn't have pupils. He sported a big pot belly and wore a smile. He kept one hand on his drink, and another on a cloth bag in his lap. He gave me a slight nod when I bellied up to the bar.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked. Her voice was husky, but professional in tone.

  “You speak English? Good.”

  “I'm fluent in fifty languages, Sweetie, and
I heard you talking to Thor. Name your poison.”

  “Can you point me to Damon Nomad?” I asked.

  “He's not here yet. He normally comes in around midnight. Would you like a glass of Soma?”

  “Two, please,” I said.

  “Coming right up.” She grabbed two glasses and pulled a tap to fill them with an amber liquid. She slid them across the counter. “Fifteen,” she said.

  I handed her a twenty.

  She looked at the bill for a moment as though it was covered in feces and shook her head. “Fifteen standards,” she said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I'm new here. What's a standard?”

  “Gold coins.”

  “I don't have any of those. Can't we just use U.S. dollars?”

  “Not a chance,” she said and took the drinks back. She tossed the bill on the counter and a ring of liquid soaked through the paper.

  “Why not?”

  “Because those pieces of paper aren't backed by anything.”

  “True,” I said, “but you can spend it here in the States, and the global economy is run on the fiat system. What's the big deal?”

  “Honey, I don't live in this dimension. So, you need to pay in gold standards, or you don't get to drink. Got it?”

  The fat man beside me touched my shoulder. “I might be persuaded to provide some standards for you.”

  “We're good,” I said.

  He ran his hand down my arm. “My name is Hotei. You should rub me for luck.”

  “Sorry, man, I don't swing that way.”

  “I'm not asking for anything untoward. Just a belly rub.”

  “I'll pass,” I said.

  The bartender laughed. “Hotei is one of the Shichi-Fuku-Jin.”

  “Gesundheit.”

  “He's a god of fortune.”

  “And?”

  “And he offered to buy your drinks if you rub his belly.”

  “It is good luck,” Hotei said.

  Kelly grinned. “You need all the good luck you can get, Jonathan. Besides, I'm thirsty.”

  “Then you rub his belly.”

  “His offer was to you.”

  “It will not hurt,” Hotei said and lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach.

  “Go on,” Kelly said.

  I sighed. “Fine,” I said and reached over. I rubbed the guy's belly and he laughed.

  “Lower,” he said.

  There was no way I was going to rub him any lower.

  “Lower,” he said again. “You may just hit the jackpot.”

  “Not today,” I said.

  “You might like it.”

  “And we're done here,” I said taking my hand back.

  He opened the cotton bag on his lap and removed a gold coin. He placed it in my palm.

  “Thanks, I think,” I said.

  “Good fortune smiles upon you, my son. Perhaps next time it will smile even brighter.”

  “Right,” I said and handed the coin to the bartender.

  She examined it. “This is only ten standards,” she said.

  “Really?” I said.

  “Looks like you'll have to rub his belly again.”

  I shook my head, but turned toward Hotei.

  The bartender laughed. “I'm just messing with you,” she said. “It's twenty. I just wanted to see your reaction. I'm keeping the five as a tip. Here are your drinks. When Damon comes in, I'll send him over.”

  “You're a riot,” I said.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  I handed a drink to Kelly and we weaved our way through the bar to an empty table.

  The drink tasted like ginger ale.

  “Did you enjoy rubbing his belly?” Kelly asked with a grin.

  “Keep it up,” I said.

  “Oh, I intend to,” she said.

  So we sat there in a bar filled with gods and immortals and we sipped an immortality elixir while waiting for a guy who wanted his name to be the same backward and forward. I might have experienced a stranger night, but if so, it's lost in the mists of time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Damon Nomad was an asshole. Yeah, yeah, don't judge people based on their appearance. But the guy came in dressed like a pimp from an old 1970s cop show, and he had a woman on both arms, each looking like a painted hooker with the combined IQ of twenty. One of the girls, a platinum blonde with rouge circles on her cheeks, tried to blow a bubble and ended up spitting the gum into the hair of a woman seated at the table next to us.

  “'Sup?” Damon said. “Vixen at the bar says you're in the market for some of my talent, but I gots to warn you, this shit don't come cheap.”

  He tugged the eye candy close to him, and the girl who still had gum blew a bubble that popped in his afro. He didn't notice, but she tried to pull it out, leaving bits of pink goo in his hair. She popped the mess back into her mouth and started chewing with again with gusto.

  “You want some blonde bombshell excitement tonight?” he asked.

  “Oh, sugar,” the girl who'd lost her gum said, “I can make you feel good.” She stretched out the word good like a piece of that gum she'd spit out, and she leaned forward to give me a better look at her fake breasts. Her breath smelled like Bubble Yum.

  “We don't want the women,” I said. “We just want information.”

  He narrowed his gaze and studied me for a moment, then looked over at Kelly. “Classy broad you got there,” he said. “She for sale?”

  “No,” Kelly said.

  “Wasn't talking to you,” Damon said. “I was talking to your man. Know your place.”

  Kelly started to rise, but I reached out and touched her hand. “I've got this,” I said.

  “Keep your bitch on a leash,” Damon said. “She looks like she's got rabies.”

  “I'll wrap a leash around your throat,” Kelly said.

  “I said I've got this,” I told her. I stood up and looked Damon in the eyes. He stared back and didn't blink. “We just need some information.”

  “Tough titty said the kitty,” Damon said. “We got better shit to do. Ain't that right, Carols?”

  “Carols?” Kelly said.

  “We're both named Carol,” one of the girls said.

  Damon reached out to pat me on the chest. “Good lu--”

  As soon as his hand made contact with me, I clapped both my hands over his and leaned forward suddenly. It's something I used to do to bullies back in grade school. Damon found himself on his knees, and I twisted him into an arm bar in less time than it takes to tell you about it.

  “You're under the misguided impression that you have a choice in the matter,” I said.

  He cussed at me, making a few choice instructions.

  “Not physically possible,” I said, “but thank you for that.” I turned to the Carols. “You two go get yourselves a drink. Damon will be along shortly.”

  They nodded and wandered off.

  “You're just gonna leave me here?” Damon called after them.

  “They aren't with you for your shining personality,” I said. “They're with you because you buy them things.”

  He gave me some more physically impossible suggestions.

  A few people at other tables looked over, but nobody intervened. Nobody cared, and I suspect our show was pretty tame compared to most nights at Club Eternity.

  “You're going to calmly answer some questions,” I said.

  “And if I don't?”

  “Then I turn you over to Kelly.”

  Kelly grinned and narrowed her gaze. She turned her arms over and little blades slid out of her sleeves into her hands. “Guess what I'll cut off first,” she said.

  He blinked. “You'd let her do that?”

  “I couldn't stop her if I wanted to. You're lucky I'm the one asking the questions because she'd cut off a few choice appendages first just to get your attention.”

  Kelly's smile intensified.

  He tried to struggle, but I had his arm locked, so I controlled him. I steered him to the far side of
the table and shoved him into a chair against the wall. Kelly slid her chair close to him on his right, and I pulled my chair in on the left. The table blocked his forward potential and the wall gave him no retreat.

  “You wouldn't really do anything,” Damon said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I wouldn't talk if you did.”

  Kelly grabbed his right hand and slammed it on the table. She brought one of her blades to bear, and he clenched his fingers into a fist.

  “You want me to take the whole hand?” she asked.

  “You wouldn't dare.”

  Kelly pressed the knife against his wrist and slowly applied pressure. The blade cut through his skin.

  Damon tried to pull back, but she held him in place with one hand. “No!” he said.

  She pushed the blade deeper.

  “Shall I explain what I'm doing? The blade is slicing between your ulna and your pisiform, which is one of the carpal bones at your wrist. I'm going to press harder and I'll sever your ulnar nerve. You won't be able to use your pinky or your ring finger.”

  “Stop it!”

  “I'm not sure you'll cooperate. I should cut off your hand first.”

  “No!” he said. “Please! I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “But I'm having fun,” Kelly said.

  “Get her away from me!” Damon said.

  “Once her mind is set, I can't stop her,” I said.

  Blood pooled under his palm, but Kelly wasn't pushing the blade any farther.

  “Talk,” she said.

  “Can you take the knife out first?”

  “Do you have healing powers?”

  “Not good enough to grow back nerves and bones.”

  She pulled the blade out and let go of him.

  He clutched his wound. “You're psychotic,” he said to her, then turned to me. “She's psychotic!”

  “You might keep that in mind while we talk,” I said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you familiar with the Men of Anubis?”

  “Of course. I hate those guys.”

  “I need to know which weapons I can use to kill them.”

  He started to laugh, but looked over at Kelly and he bit back his grin. “Look, man, I hate to tell you this, but you can't kill them. They're outside of time so if you try anything, they just go back and arrange for you to never be born.”