Rain Dance (Sunshine & Scythes Book 1)

by D. N. Erikson

  “It’s been like this ever since it opened a couple months ago,” Kai said, joining me at my side. His service weapon was clearly visible.

  “So, you just wanna roll in and announce you’re the Feds? Everyone will love talking to you.”

  “I need to keep my service weapon on me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” I reached around his back and snapped his jeans. “Just tuck it beneath your shirt.”

  His expression indicated that deception—even the legal kind—didn’t suit him. Luckily, he had me here to guide him away from any landmines that would blow our cover. Kai adjusted his shirt tail to cover the Glock 22, then started walking to the back of the line.

  I yanked him back by the shirt cuff and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “We’re going in undercover, so that means waiting in—”

  “Like fuck it does,” I said. “Watch.”

  Dragging him behind me like an unwilling dog on a leash, I marched right to the front. I wasn’t exactly dressed in club-chic with my torn jeans, sneakers and thrift-store tee, but I also didn’t really care, which was a big point in my column. The bouncer didn’t even look at us as we approached. He was the kind of overweight, big-boned guy with a receding buzz cut and two studs who thought that receiving the occasional blowjob from a drunk, coked out club chick made him cool. The guy stamped a trio of girls who were somehow already beyond torched, then checked out their asses as they disappeared into the club.

  After I watched him chuckle to himself and nod his head, I cleared my throat.

  “Back of the line.”

  “But you don’t understand,” I said, putting on my best naïve girl from Kansas voice, “Sierra said I could have a job here.”

  “Sierra?” The guy snorted. “That psycho? Sure as shit ain’t no one listening to her personnel recommendations.”

  I didn’t like the way he talked about my sister, like I didn’t meet Alkemy’s ridiculously high standards. To be fair, the next thirty women in line had as much fabric covering their combined bodies as I did alone, but I’d like to think I still stacked up. Then again, I’d been through the wringer today without a shower, so that was probably a dubious assumption on my part.

  The bouncer smiled at the next group of girls, and glanced at their legs, clearly enjoying the sad amount of power afforded by his little fiefdom.

  “Well, can I talk to her at least?” I batted my eyelashes.

  The bouncer looked between the two of us in between giving out stamps. “Nah.”

  “What do you mean, nah?”

  Kai leaned over and whispered, “Maybe we should go to the back.”

  I swatted him away and put my hands on my hips, waiting for the bouncer to explain. He ushered in the next wave of tramps, then turned and looked at me through his beady little eyes.

  “I mean, you can go to the back of the line, then when you come up here, I’m gonna say nah again, to you and friggin’ Thor here.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” I said, my voice taking on a growl. But it was hard to sound menacing when you’re barely five-six and the guy you’re talking to is six-four, two eighty. He gave me a brash laugh. Adding injury to insult, the quintet of nearby girls joined in, too, looking at me like I was some pathetic piece of street trash that had wandered in.

  God, I did not miss this scene at all. I slipped my hand in my pocket, feeling the Reaper’s Switch. One swipe, and this prick would know—

  Kai brushed gently past and bent over to speak in the bouncer’s ear. The guy’s expression went from confident to ashen within a couple seconds.

  He waved us through, stamping us both like we were radioactive. I gave him a wide grin and said, “I guess that’s a yes.”

  “Whatever, bitch.”

  I yanked the stupid stud out of his ear as I strolled by, and he screamed.

  Kai gave me a look and I shrugged by way of expectation. “He was rude.”

  “I thought we were trying to fly under the radar.”

  “Oh, relax, Thor.” I nudged him in the ribs as we got in another short line to enter the actual club. Judging from the room-shaking thumps coming from the doors ahead, the place was already popping off. “What’d you say to him?”

  Kai looked embarrassed about that, as if it was actually an insult. “I knew about his rap sheet, and wouldn’t bust him for his little side business.”

  “He has a side business?” I asked.

  “He’s a creep, Eden,” Kai said. “I played the odds.”

  Who’d have thunk it—Kai Taylor, con man extraordinaire. What a poker face. Maybe I had a couple things to learn from an honest man, after all. I’d have to brush the rust off my own skills just to keep up. In my defense, things were a lot easier when half of your ass was hanging out, though. Get me back here with a shower and a nice haircut, and we’d have gotten in without incident.

  We flashed our stamps to yet another bouncer to gain entrance to Alkemy. He opened the door with a grin and a smirk, like we didn’t know what we were getting into. Pumping bass and distorted vocals greeted us as Pandora’s Box opened before our eyes. In truth, Alkemy was little more than a massive dance floor, covered by a sea of writing and grinding bodies. The dance floor was flanked on either side by bar areas. At the front was a stage, above which hung a darkened glass-enclosed balcony.

  The club smelled like perfume and sweet sweat, and more than a little tinge of emptiness. You’d think loneliness doesn’t have a scent, but it does. Maybe it was pheromones or something, but this place was drenched in it.

  The DJ stopped his set, and the aural assault briefly abated. Even in the absence of music, however, the people on the floor didn’t stop wiling out.

  I pressed my lips almost against Kai’s ear and said, “It’s not love, it’s alchemy.”

  He nodded, receiving the message loud and clear. There was nothing special about this club. The interior was trimmed in black and stainless steel, giving it a modern and hip underground aesthetic. But that didn’t explain the line around the block. That could only be explained by a secret ingredient—a little actual alchemy. Dangerous magic was afoot here. And, somehow, my sister was in the center of it all.

  I led Kai through the dancing throng, keeping toward the bar, which was less crowded than the amorous dance floor. I knocked into a couple wrapped around one another like two gummy bears smashed together at the bottom of the bag. They barely even noticed my interruption. Their lips were locked again before I could even give a nod of apology.

  To the left of the DJ’s stage, I saw an open archway surrounded by velvet ropes. I guess the upstairs was for VIPs only. Luckily, we had the ultimate pass: the FBI badge.

  After some more jockeying, I reached the ropes, assessing the situation. A thick guy in a black t-shirt standing in the way of us getting answers. I craned my neck around the DJ’s stage, and saw through the rat’s nest of wires that there were two doors on the opposite side. One looked like a fire exit, but the other could’ve been an office.

  That might’ve been an easier bet. I tried to turn around, but the music started again, and the crowd formed an impenetrable mass of swaying bodies.

  Which left us with the VIP lounge. Dropping Sierra’s name hadn’t worked before—the first bouncer had dismissed her entirely. That meant she wasn’t the owner, but she was valuable enough to keep around, despite whatever behavior made her nuts.

  Which meant, maybe—just maybe—her name could work to gain access. Just in a different context. I approached the bouncer, but this time took a different tact.

  Screaming to be heard over the corkscrewing bass, I yelled, “Sierra sent us upstairs to get something.”

  “Sierra?” From his look, this seemed plausible. At least this guy wasn’t laughing.

  “Wants us to get a package for the boss, yeah.”

  The guy stared at me, then Kai. He glanced down at Kai’s tattooed arm and broad shoulders, and must’ve decided that we looked like the disre
putable kind of people Sierra might send for a pickup. He unclipped the velvet rope and gruffly nodded toward the stairs.

  I tried to keep cool, but it was like the first time I’d snuck into a club with a fake ID.

  Still had it.

  About halfway up, near the first landing where the second flight switch backed, I felt an arm on my elbow.

  “What?” I could see the VIP area from here. The closed door beckoned to me.

  “If this goes bad...” Kai looked like he wanted to turn around, but his sworn duty to the FBI wouldn’t let him.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  I waved him off, pretending like I couldn’t hear. It wasn’t much of a lie. The stairs offered some protection from the constant bass drops, but anyone who went to a club to have a conversation was embarking upon a quest harder than keeping the ring from Sauron.

  Of course, the truth was, I had no clue what would happen. I hadn’t seen my sister in four years. She hadn’t told me she’d come to Atheas. All I had was hope.

  So, before hesitation could swallow me whole, I sprinted up the stairs and barged through the door. And then I stopped dead.

  As VIP rooms went, it was middle of the road. Two leather sofas, a glass table, the royalty-like view of the undulating dance floor below. Dim lights that hid the kisses, groping, and cocaine bumps that otherwise would lurk in plain sight.

  None of that surprised me.

  What did, however, was the woman with the platinum blonde hair standing alone in her leather pants, surveying the partying masses. I could sense a collection of souls in the room—harvested souls. But more than that, I could taste one soul in particular.

  A Reaper’s.

  Sierra turned, a small bag swinging from her finger. Her big blue eyes grew wide. But before I could say a word, my sister pulled the fire alarm and was racing out the opposite exit.

  28

  I wanted to chase Sierra. Started to chase her. But before I could, I felt a strong hand grasp my shoulder. I turned, fist clenched, but Kai’s gentle face looked at me, and he shook his head, no. Down below, through the tinted glass, the kaleidoscopic burst of the fire alarm dueled against the DJ’s light show. It was difficult to tell which was winning—the crowd had thinned, but many of the revelers were still caught in a trance, dancing their troubles away.

  “We need to go,” Kai said, over the din of the wailing alarm. Footsteps pounding up the stairs indicated our retreat was blocked, so we had no choice but to head the same way my sister had gone.

  We got down the steps and emerged near the dance floor. The music cut off, as did the alarm, sending the clubbers into a sort of confused daze. This section was also roped off, but there was an extra door here with an exit sign. Unfortunately, it was also blocked by a certain fellow with a serious stick up his ass.

  “My dear girl, I would say it is a surprise to see you here in this mess,” Moreland said, his willowy form shambling forward and ducking beneath the ropes, “but, alas, you always have your nose where it does not belong.”

  I instinctively reached for the Reaper’s Switch, but Moreland sent a burst of flame soaring over my shoulder I could even touch my jeans. The warlock flashed his yellow teeth, his icy blue eyes boring into me with frigid indifference.

  “You,” I said. “It was you all along.”

  “Do not act so surprised, dear girl. You know I am capable of the act.” Oh yeah—no surprise at all, finding Aldric’s right-hand man at a club that was clearly competing against the vampire warlord’s holdings. And then finding that he was competing against his boss, whom he still called Master.

  Totally unsurprising.

  Definitely saw it coming.

  Moreland raised his hand suddenly, a blazing, white-hot inferno spinning around his fingers. I turned slightly, seeing on my periphery that Kai had raised his service weapon.

  “Put it down,” I said in a low steady voice.

  “I can’t do that, Eden.” Kai didn’t sound scared. Just doing his job. Goddamnit, why couldn’t he have a little cowardice in his body? That would be useful in a time like this.

  “Listen to the girl, my handsome friend. You have no dog in this race.”

  “Last chance.” Kai’s voice was stern. I’d listen to it. But then, I was still human—mostly. Moreland was a big shit sandwich of sociopath, warlock, and asshole, which meant he didn’t scare easily.

  And he also didn’t have a conscience.

  I stepped in between him and Kai. It was the only way to save Kai’s life. Even if it meant dying myself. I’d seen that my sister was safe. Clearly she could handle herself these days—even if that meant throwing morality to the wind.

  “You will die for him?”

  “When you put it like that, I’m not so sure,” I said, silently hoping that Kai would get the message and put down the gun. Sure, there was still a good chance Moreland would roast us both in the process. But there was a non-zero chance the warlock would try to rope us into some scheme to dispatch Aldric. That would buy us time, which right now, was ticking toward the end of our days.

  “The trail of destruction you leave grows.” The slightest glimmer flickered in his dead eyes. “It is a gift.”

  “I didn’t ask for this.”

  “There is always a choice, dear girl.” The fiery ball grew bigger. “And you made yours in the back of that car.”

  “When did you decided to make yours, then?” I asked.

  “When I got a better offer.” Instead of burning me into cinders, he swiped with his hand. A sharp burst of wind flung me against the DJ’s stage. My neck snapped forward like a crash test dummy as I hit the short metal supports. Woozy and stunned, I heard what sounded like a gunshot, followed by a stifled gag.

  “Kai…” I croaked the name out, using what little air was left in my lungs. It didn’t matter. Moreland was probably wearing the poor bastard’s head as a hat, getting ready to parade it in front of me before he ended my life.

  Another casualty on my watch.

  I gritted my teeth, and briefly thought of Dante’s sacrifice inside the treasure room. Two was too many deaths for one day. I coaxed myself into a sitting position and blinked, trying to orient myself. The exit sign blurred orange, but Moreland was nowhere to be found.

  Then I heard Kai say, “I told you to let her go.”

  Head swimming, I looked up, trying to process the scene. No tattooed corpse tumbled next to me, no pleas for mercy.

  Well, that wasn’t true. But they were coming from Moreland, who burbled something incoherent out of my field of view.

  “Can you get the door, Eden?” Kai knelt next to me and offered his hand. His expression was gentle and unbothered as ever, although his eyes were filled with mild concern. I guess this was a test to make sure I wasn’t bleeding out internally.

  I got up somewhat unsteady, but limped underneath the velvet rope and got to the door. Sunlight streamed inside. Kai stood over the ancient warlock, who was still whimpering in the corner nearby. There was a growing crimson stain around the warlock’s waist. The agent’s gun was trained firmly at Moreland’s pale head.

  “You can’t kill me.” Moreland tried to sneer, but his lips twisted in pain, not derision. “Do you know who I am?”

  Kai didn’t react. With his free hand, he brushed a few strands of long hair away from his face. I could see glowing amidst the tattoos in the dim light. He had sigils hidden amongst the tattoos. The spear was alight, containing a magic I hadn’t seen on the island. A sort of protective, gentle power that also contained a remarkable ferocity.

  Instead of pulling the trigger, Kai dragged Moreland up by the shirt collar, then threw the injured warlock over his shoulder.

  Still holding the door, I said, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Taking him in.” Kai walked out the exit, ducking so that he didn’t knock Moreland against the frame. I would’ve bounced that bastard’s head off every column and wall from here to the stati
on. But then, I was still a little wound up about the whole him killing me thing.

  Then him trying to set me up. Some people you just can’t win over, you know?

  I followed Kai down the back alley which filtered into the main street. There was a crowd waiting outside Alkemy, clearly upset about the disturbance. I didn’t blame them. Whatever Moreland was spiking the drinks with, it was the type of magic you could only create through using souls. That was an addictive buzz.

  The crowd barely paid us notice, despite the bleeding man hoisted over Kai’s shoulder. The agent set the warlock down on the pavement as he fished out his keys.

  “Why was Sierra here?” I knelt next to Moreland. “Tell me, you goddamn—”

  “Eden.” Kai finally spoke again. “You can’t interrogate him now. He’s injured.”

  “Yes, listen to your handler, Eden—” A terrible scream cut Moreland’s taunt short as I jabbed my fingers into the gunshot wound gracing his belly.

  I felt myself being lifted away, my legs kicking over nothing as blood dripped from my fingers. Everyone outside was now staring at me. Worth it. I think Moreland was shedding actual tears near the sedan’s wheel well.

  Kai set me down near the back door and glared at me. For him, this must’ve qualified as seething rage. “A conviction will already be difficult enough with the prime suspect present during the arrest.”

  “Who said anything about a conviction? I was thinking some concrete boots and a little trip out to sea.”

  Kai didn’t find my joke amusing. He lifted a single finger, as if to say cool it, then turned his attention to the sputtering Moreland. I opened the back door, resisting the urge to inflict more pain on the man who had destroyed my world. The warlock slumped into the back seat and closed his eyes, his pale face turning a snowy type of ashen I’d only seen in corpses.

  I could only hope the bastard would die before due process got ahold of him.

  Protocol. This was why I didn’t work with the FBI. Right before I’d dropped out of high school, a recruiter had visited our class. Singled me out to talk after—said I’d make a hell of a profiler. That I could read people, see the stories written across their faces. I knew that already, since I’d been studying for a few years by that point. But I wasn’t a fan of paperwork, or making shit money, so I’d flipped him the bird.