by Dannika Dark
I was currently enjoying a glass of wrath. “Can I have another?”
The bartender—a sketchy-looking man named Hooper with three lip rings and designs shaved on each side of his head—placed his palms on the bar and forced a smile. “One specialty drink per person. Otherwise, this place would be hell for real.”
“Tequila.”
While Hooper set a shot glass in front of me and filled it to the brim, I scanned my text messages. The only one I’d received was a Vampire emoji from Christian. Viktor didn’t keep us on a tight leash, and we were free to come and go as we pleased. Getting out was good for my sanity, and even though Breed clubs had never been my scene, I was learning to appreciate the company of my own kind. Maybe it had something to do with not being the scavenger anymore, not fearing someone would turn me over to the law. Now I had protection, and that offered me more freedom than I’d once had.
I caught my reflection in the mirror. Claude’s trendy cut was hardly noticeable amid the tousled clumps of wet hair, thanks to my standing in the snow without a hat.
Instead of knocking back the tequila, I sipped it.
“Nice hair,” a man said.
I glanced to my left, and recognition sparked my memory. “You’re the guy from the salon. No pink tips, huh?” The roots of his hair were dark, but a good chunk of it was bleached white and styled in every direction like an anime character. If it weren’t for his alternative hairstyle, his faded jeans and button-up shirt were so ordinary that he could have easily blended into a crowd.
“Is this seat taken?”
I closed my eyes and smiled.
“I know. It’s cliché.” He set down his glass and made himself comfortable.
I nodded at his specialty drink. “Which one is that? I keep forgetting all the colors.”
He lifted the green glass to his lips. “Treachery.” Then his eyes flicked down to my tequila.
I raised it up. “Apparently I’ve hit my limit on wrath.”
“All in good fun. This isn’t my usual, but then I thought, what the hell.”
I knocked back the rest of my tequila and stared absently at the bottles behind the bar.
The man beside me bit his thumbnail, and I could see in the mirror that he was watching me.
I glared at him. “What?”
“Can I have your number?”
“No.”
He turned his head and looked at me in the mirror. “I didn’t think it would be that easy. Just thought I’d ask.”
“You don’t even know me. I could be your worst nightmare.”
“We’re each our own worst nightmares.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“How is it you don’t have a boyfriend?” He chuckled warmly and lifted his glass. “Just a hunch.”
“I guess I’m lucky,” I quipped.
“Ah. A spinster at twenty-five. Such a tragic tale. Maybe you should give me your number after all. I’d like to buy you a cat.”
I snorted, still talking to him through the reflection in the mirror. “Why? So when I slip in the bathroom and hit my head, he can nibble on my remains?”
“At least he’ll be well-fed.”
“What makes you think I’m twenty-five?”
When he shifted to face me directly, I felt more comfortable looking into his hazel eyes than through a mirror. They were inquisitive and friendly, and his dark eyebrows sloped down in the middle just enough that it made it look like he was concentrating. “I’m an excellent guesser. When you’ve been around as long as I have, it comes naturally. By your manner of speech, I’m going to guess you’re newly made, but you’re more seasoned than most.”
“You’re assuming I’m a Mage?”
He propped his elbow on the bar and played with the ear stud in his left lobe. “Chitahs and Vampires are automatically ruled out. You mentioned having a boss, so that means you’re not likely a Relic since they work with partners and don’t waste time at social events, like the dinner you mentioned back at the salon. Most Sensors are self-employed traders. You could be a Shifter, or maybe something else.”
“What else is there?”
He winked. “Lots of things.”
Two women grinding against each other caught my attention. Their eyes scanned the bar, and it was clear they were searching for a third party to join in on the action. I was dressed down, and my body language wasn’t inviting anyone over to play. So why was this guy wasting his time with me?
“You should go talk to them,” I suggested.
He turned all the way around to admire the women, his elbows resting on the bar. “Eh. Same tits, different night. I never thought I’d be so sick of looking at tits.”
“Maybe women aren’t your thing.”
“Maybe flagrant misuse of sexuality and wielding it like a toy isn’t my thing. We’re immortals, and look what we’ve become. Could you ever have imagined that men who have been around since before the Roman Empire would be doing this with their time?”
“Better this than bringing back gladiator fights.”
He finished off his drink. “I think I’d prefer that.”
When the music switched to a slower beat, I studied him for a moment. He had a friendly face. Not overly handsome or particularly ugly, just somewhere in the middle. His nose was straight and narrow, giving him a regal look that made him seem out of place in this century. Most of the time, his eyes narrowed as if he were squinting from a bright light or smiling. And for a man, what pretty lashes he had.
“What’s your name?” I asked, wondering if that would shed any light on whether or not he was an ancient.
He slowly turned to face the mirror again and met my gaze in its reflection. “Let’s keep it simple.”
“Fine by me.”
“What’s your name? What do you do? Where do you live? How old are you, and what is your Breed? You’ll eventually learn that none of those questions matter. Not one of them helps you to know a person better.”
I gave him a sardonic smile. “How many men have you killed? What was the last crime you committed? Would you rather be good or evil?”
That must have been my drink talking.
His brows sloped down, and when he grinned, deep lines etched on the sides of his face. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”
I played with the napkin in front of me. “Questions no one will answer, so we’re back to square one.”
“Ever want to break the rules?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why do people make rules?” he asked conversationally.
I shrugged.
“Control,” he answered. “And why do people need control?”
“Power?”
“Exactly.”
“Rules keep us from turning into animals. If this club had no rules, no one would pay for their drinks, and the owner would go out of business because of broken bottles and rowdy customers.”
The man folded his arms and tilted his head. “In Greek mythology, Chaos was the first thing to exist. Without Chaos, there would be nothing.”
“That’s fiction.”
“Maybe you should go home and read about the chaos theory.”
“You mean the butterfly effect? Bugs can’t create hurricanes. I’m not buying it.”
“You can’t know that, and it’s beside the point. Nothing in this life would ever change without chaos, and I’m not talking about revolutions and the downfall of the higher authority. Chaos isn’t about good or evil; it’s about unpredictability. Aren’t you ever inquisitive about the effect of your actions, no matter how small?”
“My job lets me see the results of my actions.”
He ticked his index finger back and forth like a pendulum on a metronome. “That’s not the same. That’s predictability. The same way coming in and ordering a drink is. But what if instead of drinking that glass of wrath, you left it on an empty table? Those drinks are spiked by Sensors. Maybe all someone needs to do the unexpected is a little nudge.”
> I chortled and looked at his empty glass. “I think that’s the treachery talking.”
“Why don’t we give it a try?”
“Swapping someone’s drink?”
He leaned in and grinned wolfishly. “Let’s change destiny. Follow me if you’re up for an experiment.”
My brows touched my hairline as he stood up. Curious, I grabbed my coat and followed him through the crowd.
Club Nine was an enormous establishment, the main door on the front right. Upon entering a wide hall, customers found themselves in a large room mostly used for dancing. The bar ran along the front wall, the kitchen hidden behind it. Bathrooms were tucked away on the left side of the building. The unique thing about Club Nine was the lounge rooms in the back. Straight ahead, past the dance floor, an archway framed a wide hall, which was a cozy chamber unto itself. There were nine rooms, each with an arched entranceway made from brick. The lights affixed to the ceiling splashed a different color on the brick around every entrance. Four rooms on the left, four on the right, and one straight ahead. They weren’t labeled since the colored lights indicated which room was which.
“Why are they separated?” I asked. “Does something different go on in each one?” If the gluttony room had a buffet table, I was all in.
My new friend turned, hands in his pockets. “The club is a perfect example of how people like order. They want to be associated with something because it gives them a sense of belonging. In some clubs, people gravitate toward their own Breed. In others, it’s social status. Here, they want to commiserate and mingle with people who share common interests.”
“But it’s just a gimmick.”
“For some it is.” He disappeared behind me and suddenly stuck his head between my legs.
I hopped forward and scowled at him. “I don’t know what you think is going on here—”
“Haven’t you ever been to a rock concert?” He looked up at me, hands on his knees. “Ride my shoulders and switch out two of the colors.”
When he moved behind me again, I didn’t run off. Mostly because it seemed like a harmless idea, and I wanted to prove to him that it was absurd.
A woman sauntered past us, paying no attention as he hoisted me up. People did crazy things in Breed clubs all the time, so I didn’t concern myself with what other people might be thinking.
“Which ones?” he asked.
After he reminded me of the colors and their meaning, I pointed at the yellow and violet. They weren’t the kind of bulbs that heated up, so it didn’t take long to switch them out.
He set me down and studied them. “Why limbo and lust?”
I patted his shoulder and gave him a wry grin. “Lonely people need love?”
He sat down on a bench. “I would have interchanged treachery and greed.”
“You mean they aren’t the same?” I quipped, sitting beside him. “You wanted to prove that this has nothing to do with good or evil. If your theory has merit, then it won’t matter which of the nine I selected.”
“All in good fun,” he replied.
After a few minutes of people coming and going, voices within the rooms grew louder. One woman stormed out of the lust room, her lips pressed tight and fists clenched. A man wandered out shortly afterward, a scarlet mark across his alabaster cheek.
Serves you right for treating her like a piece of meat, I thought.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” my partner in crime asked.
“What? Being bad?”
He leaned forward and held my gaze. “No. To be free.”
“Switching a few lights hardly makes a person free.”
“There’s a light in every situation. You can’t switch those lights when you’re busy following rules.”
“Are you sure you didn’t drink the heresy? You seem to like anarchy.”
“That would imply I enjoy negative outcomes. Believe it or not, good things can come out of chaos. Life can arise from death, just as death can arise from life.” He jerked his head at the room. “One of those lonely men in there might connect with a woman who fills the void in his life.”
That was probably why I’d selected the most innocuous combination.
“That’s a pretty necklace,” he said. “A gift?”
I glanced down at the red heart dangling from my neck. It swung from the silver chain in a forward motion. “Not really. I needed costume jewelry for a thing I had to attend, so someone gave it to me.” I stood up and put on my grey trench coat, wishing I’d worn the leather jacket instead since it was easier to carry.
“Can I have your number?” he asked again, rising to face me.
I smiled playfully. “Let’s keep it simple.”
He inclined his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then he reached out and held my pendant between his fingers. “Who gave you this heart? Someone you loved?”
“No. Just my partner.”
“Your partner is a man of considerable wealth.”
“It’s not real.”
“This is a Burmese ruby of the finest quality. It’s a one of a kind and worth millions. The last time I saw it was at an auction in 1932.”
My breath caught.
He winked and let go. “How’s that for a little chaos? Have fun with your newfound knowledge, Butterfly.”
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, I felt the heat from the ruby burning against my chest like a fiery stone.
Chapter 5
After the revelation regarding the alleged value of my necklace, I tucked it inside my shirt. Odds were my mischievous friend was messing with my head to further his theory, and that specialty drink had done me no favors. It had altered my mood, though it wasn’t so strong that I couldn’t control my actions. Maybe that was why I’d participated in his game, whereas any other night I might have blown him off.
I was beginning to see the allure of all the club drinks.
After I left Club Nine and made it back to Keystone, I went into the dining room to find empty pizza boxes stacked on the table. One had leftovers inside and a note with my name taped to the box.
I lit a candle and took a seat in one of the booths along the wall between the dining and gathering rooms. Through the archway to my left, I noticed that the fire was extinguished—not a single flickering ember in the hearth. The butterscotch glow from my candle suffused against the wooden table, creating a peaceful aura amid the darkness.
Blue silently entered the room in a long red dress that looked like something out of medieval times. Her daytime attire consisted of tall boots, dark pants, and a tight shirt. In the wee hours of the morning, I occasionally caught her roaming the halls, her gown or cloak swishing against the cold floors. Blue remained an enigmatic figure in the house. On one hand, the face she showed the world was fierce. Yet within the privacy of these walls, a feminine side existed.
“You’re not eating?” she asked. “We saved enough in case you came home hungry.”
I waved my hand. “If you want some, it’s all yours. I don’t have an appetite.”
She opened the box and took out a slice. “I don’t think we’ve ever ordered pizza before. Viktor almost had a heart attack when the delivery man buzzed at the front gate.”
I snickered. “I tipped him online, so I hope you guys didn’t go out of your way.”
She took a seat across from me and folded a slice of pizza in half. “Christian answered the door, so I don’t know what he did.”
“Probably said a lot of fecks.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “I think he was curious like we all were what you were going to cook.”
I touched some of the hot wax dripping down the side of the candle. “I wasn’t hungry after we found the body, and I really didn’t feel like cooking.”
She took a large bite and picked up a fallen pepper. “I thought you’d be famished.”
I gave her a cold stare even though I knew she was kidding.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Claude filled us in on the g
ory details. No one expected you to cook after that.”
“Is the woman going to be our next case?”
Blue wiped her mouth, her sapphire-colored eyes focused on the pizza. “It’s up to Viktor. A lot of murders happen in the Breed district; it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve happened upon a crime scene. But we still have to get paid, so that means someone would have to hire us to solve the murder.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door across from us that led down to the training room. “Shepherd was upset when he heard about it.”
“Shepherd?”
She ate the pizza up to the crust and left it on the table. “After Claude described the grisly scene, Shepherd got up and left the room.”
“Was Claude talking about it over dinner? No wonder.”
She stroked her bottom lip. “Shepherd has an iron stomach. I once saw him eat a taco while some guy told a story about how he removed a twenty-foot tapeworm from his bowels. Gem I’d expect to leave the table, but not Shepherd.”
“Maybe he had to do some more pull-ups.”
Blue smiled, her cheeks glowing.
I noticed the holes in her earlobes where her feather earrings usually hung. “Don’t those close up when you shift?”
“Sometimes. I could make it permanent with liquid fire, but I just pierce them again. It’s no big deal.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
She sat back. “Sure. But I can’t guarantee you’ll get an answer.”
“Remember the masquerade ball? When you went with Christian to buy a wig, did you see him buying anything else?”
“Like what?”
“Jewelry or something.”
Her eyes skated up. “No. He pretty much stayed in the chair and watched me try them all on. He picked out the hideous ones first so he could get a good laugh. That much I remember.”
“So the guy didn’t try to sell him anything else?”
“We spent about an hour picking out my wig and then loaded the costumes into the van. That was it.”
I leaned back, my arms still on the table as I stared at the candle. I didn’t have the best memory in the world, but I was pretty sure Christian had told me that the seller was pushing his trinkets to get him to buy something else. If that was true, wouldn’t he have also bought Blue a necklace? She’d ended up wearing something Gem had lent her for the evening. Why would he lie?
