She ventured down and reached the bottom of the stairs, spotting the door to a cellar. This was the entrance to Coffinail. Fuck. How is this place not under the watch of the cops? Who the hell would go to a club through a cellar and not think it raises a red flag?
She eased the cellar door open and climbed into an elevator. Well, half an elevator, and pressed one of the only two buttons there. As she descended, she looked up, seeing the cellar door close automatically. Had she still been alive, it might have given her a shiver. The trip only took a few seconds, but she could hear the dull thump of music straight away. The elevator stopped in front of a grate. She pushed it open and stepped into a smoke-filled corridor. Whether from cigarettes or dust she wasn’t sure, but the place stunk like Granddad’s balls. Yet the place was full, and no one seemed to mind.
She moved into the main auditorium, which sported the strangest assortment of decorations she had ever seen. Dimly lit strippers shook their stuff on small stages with their personal poles, but to Lauren they all looked like the B crew; one or two even had bite marks very noticeable. Ancient weapons adorned the walls, some with caked-on blood from their last battle. Red and purple drapes were hung as far as the eye could see. An arch was set up over the main stage where a band was playing. Grungy, gothic I-hate-the-world crap.
Lauren could smell both vampires and humans in the place, though she couldn’t tell who was who without getting closer to the patrons. And that was the last thing she wanted to do. She just wanted to get the hell out of here.
Fuck this. Lauren moved up to the bar, pushing aside the waiting customers and rapped her knuckles on the surface.
“Oi, where’s Luca?” she asked the bartender.
A male voice behind her said, “Oi yourself, bitch! Wait ya’ fuckin’ turn!”
The bartender looked like he was about to answer, but Lauren placed her hand in his face. “Hold that thought.”
She turned around and faced the speaker, looking him up and down, sniffing. Vampire.
Lauren smiled. Good. She unleashed with two quick punches. The first broke his nose, the second split it across his face. He stumbled and fell back, pitifully trying to contain the damage and blood loss with both hands as the others surrounding him took a step back from Lauren.
Lauren peered down at the man, writhing slowly on the club floor. “Sorry, do you mind if I cut? No? Cheers, mate.”
Lauren returned to the bartender and furrowed her brow. “Now what was I saying?”
“Luca’s not here. But you can leave your stuff. He left the payment with me.”
He lowered himself behind the bar and came up again with a briefcase, placing it in front of Lauren. A young girl took his place and began taking orders.
This was the second deal Lauren had done and it was the same briefcase Luca had presented to her containing forty thousand dollars. Or ten for each vial.
“What, you want to do the deal here?” Lauren said, glancing from side to side.
“You honestly think this is the worst thing people see in here?”
He had a point. People had been murdered here on the dancefloor and no one had squealed. Well not to the cops anyway. Coffinail was under Vincent’s jurisdiction and therefore had his protection.
“Whatever, just hand it over.”
The bartender gave her a swift nod. Lauren took the briefcase and reached into her jacket pocket for the vials.
“You should really count it, you know,” came a voice from behind Lauren.
“What are you doing here, Clive, you lackey?” she asked, turning to glance at Clive. He had cut his hair. The curls were clipped shorter, but he had kept his mini sideburns. He wore a thick, black woollen trench coat with its collar upturned. If he didn’t remind Lauren of the black character in Spy vs Spy, he might have looked half decent. “I didn’t pick you for a fang banger.”
Clive repositioned his glasses on top of his nose. “Count it.”
Lauren snorted. “Sure,” as she put the briefcase into Clive’s hands. “Hold it for me.”
She clicked it open and took note of the contents. A single layer of twenty dollar note bunches. The last exchange was two layers of fifty dollar notes.
“What the fuck is this?" Lauren asked the bartender. “This is supposed to be forty grand!”
“Eighty, actually,” Clive corrected her. “Sell price has gone up.”
“I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that’s what Luca left,” the bartender shrugged.
“It’s enough for one vial, if that,” Clive said.
“He’s expecting four,” the bartender replied.
“Vincent expects to get paid. Which do you think is more likely?” Clive asked the bartender.
“You want four, you pay for four,” Lauren added.
“Look, give me one, and come out to Luca’s safe with me. He’ll kill someone if he doesn’t get four. Most probably me. He has to have some spare cash around.”
“You’re going to steal from him?” Lauren asked.
“I said Luca will probably kill me, but I’m fucked if I get on Vincent’s bad side.”
Lauren and Clive followed the bartender into the back. They walked through an abandoned, darkened kitchen. This part of the club had an overwhelming stench of damp dust. It clearly had not been used for months, if not years.
Lauren gazed at the greasy ceiling hoods and the dusty grime of the grill. The only light came from an old cool room, its door slightly ajar. Something about this was starting to make Lauren uneasy. Clive was giving off vibes that indicated he was feeling the same.
“Where’s this safe, again?” Lauren asked.
“Round the corner,” the bartender said, as he moved around the corner he spoke of. Clive moved a hand to slow Lauren down, making him reach the corner before her. Lauren was about to fling his hand away when Clive gasped, pulled aside and disappeared from Lauren’s view around the corner.
“What the fuck?” Lauren yelled. As she followed them, she heard a door slam, and sounds of struggling. She had come full circle—she faced the same elevator she had arrived in.
The bartender had jumped through the cellar opening with Clive in his clutches. Well if it was good for one…
Lauren burst out of the cellar door, landing a little unsteadily, but she didn’t have far to chase. The bartender faced her with his fingers clenched around Clive’s windpipe. Clive had a fresh bite on his neck, and blood was dripping from the bartender’s mouth. He had given Clive a taster.
The streets were deserted; they were alone. Lauren was reminded of facing Alex in a similar situation a few months ago. Yet Lauren had been the one with the hostage on that occasion.
“I’ll kill him,” the bartender said.
“Yeah, so I see. I don’t give a shit. Kill him.”
The bartender laughed. “If you didn’t give a shit, you wouldn’t have followed. Give me the Dream State, and I’ll let him go.”
Lauren looked down at the briefcase. Something was off about this. “You just want the Dream State? Don’t you want Luca’s money back too?”
The bartender sneered. “Luca is an idiot. He has no idea what this is really worth or how many people are using. That money is nothing compared to what I’ll get on the street. Demand is growing and the net outside of Vincent’s jurisdiction is widening. Vampires might be going through it daily, but humans are injecting this shit like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Are you crazy?” Clive coughed. “You can’t give it to humans! You have no idea what it will do to them.”
“You’re right,” the bartender shrugged. “And I don’t care. All I know is they are paying more than vamps do. It helps that they have regular income.” He winked at Lauren. “So what’ll it be?”
Lauren weighed up the options in her head. She shouldn’t be in this situation and didn’t really care if she lost the Dream State or the money. In fact, she didn’t care if Clive got his throat cut either.
“You know what?” Lauren set
down the briefcase and picked out the vials. “Take ’em,” she said, throwing them to the bartender.
The bartender caught them and released Clive at the same time. She should be worried about what Julian would say, but she hadn’t signed up for this. What did she have to lose, her life? Julian couldn’t take that from her. She was already dead. “Do what you want. I’m out of here.”
Lauren turned and walked away. She heard the bartender gleefully gather the Dream State and scarper, leaving the briefcase.
“Are you crazy?” Clive screamed after Lauren. “We have to get it back! We can’t let it get out into Sydney!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you, lackey,” Lauren said, pointing to the night sky and marching forward. “Behold! All the fucks I give!”
The echoing thunder of a gunshot made her pause however. For a split second she thought Clive had fired a warning shot at her. But there was no way he had the balls to pull the trigger.
Lauren twisted around, frantically looking left to right. She saw Clive with his back to her, staring at a body around fifty meters ahead of him. The bartender was dead, half his brains coating the road.
Lauren reached Clive just as the sound of clapping reached her ears. A few cheers as well. Four men came into view from the shadows, three congratulating the fourth. They stood over the body, kicking the corpse.
“Stupid blood sucker.”
“What a shot!”
“Now that’s how ya do it!”
Lauren grabbed Clive by the shoulder. Hunters. Lauren’s fangs flared, ready for a fight, as the shooter came into her view. The red hair was completely shaved and he looked like he’d aged thirty years since the last time she had seen him. If she’d needed to breathe, she would have gasped. Matt!
The yahooing continued, but Matt was like a statue. His face was expressionless and ice cold. He clocked his gun as if hypnotised, lowering it back down to his side.
One of the three bent to pick up the vials of Dream State the bartender had dropped. Lauren felt Clive tense but not move. He kept flicking glances at her
“Calibos, how long do you reckon this amount of Dream State will last us?” he said.
“I’d say only about a fortnight,” the one called Calibos replied, placing his arm around Matt. “As long as our new friend here keeps improving, we’ll burn through it! Still, that just means more vamps to kill and less of it on the streets, aye?”
The others cheered the words, but Matt remained still and silent. Yet Lauren could swear he turned a fraction and stared right at her. “For the honour of the Alpha and our lost brothers, we will find them!” Calibos roared, bringing a louder cheer as they all moved in Lauren and Clive’s direction.
“Lackey, run!” Lauren hissed through her fangs.
She kept her eyes on the group and had almost lifted her hand from his shoulder when, with surprising speed for a human, he grabbed her wrist. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered, with soft conviction. Lauren was about to retort, maybe shove him out of the way when Calibos said, “Did you hear something, lads?”
The group stopped their gleeful giggling to look around, slightly confused. And they weren’t the only ones. Lauren and Clive stood not eight feet from them. Yet the men acted as if they were… Lauren herself looked over at Clive in confusion, about to ask what the punks thought they were up to, but suddenly realised she couldn’t see him. At all. She still felt her hand on his shoulder, but she was looking straight through where his body should be to the pavement and buildings behind. Invisible?
The men continued on, marching straight past Lauren and Clive, confirming her bizarre conclusion.
Lauren waited for about thirty seconds before letting go of Clive and he reappeared before her. “Fuck me. What the hell was that?”
“I think,” Clive said, trying to get his breath back. “We just discovered your power.” He gave an impressed nod before adding, “And we should use it to follow them.”
“Why are you so desperate to get that stuff back? It’s not worth getting killed over.”
“It’s not just that. I think they are what Vincent has the Elements of Night looking for. The wolf pack.”
“Can’t be,” Lauren said. “I smelt them as they walked past. They were all human.”
“What? How else would they know about Dream State? They called it by name. You and I are two of the very few who know exactly where it comes from. It has to be them. We have to follow them anyway and report back. If what that bartender said is right, and Dream State is spreading beyond where we can control its circulation—if it’s getting into the hands of human drug dealers. That’s bad. Very bad.”
Lauren felt his conviction, but couldn’t understand what the big deal was. “Why?”
“Just trust me. We have to find out more. Sydney is fucked if this gets outside vampire control, but it looks like it already has.”
Lauren studied Clive for a few seconds. To give him even minimal credit, he could’ve run when the men came towards them. But he didn’t. He stayed. Maybe the lackey wasn’t so bad.
“Fine. Was gonna be a boring night anyway.”
Chapter 14
Peace Of Mind
Nicole twirled the biro in her fingers. The pen that refused to write. Her notes for Zachary were getting smaller and less in depth every session, yet never had she more reason to be concerned, because he still refused to talk. There were only so many times you could write that over and over.
She sighed and leaned back in the chair, interlacing her fingers across her abdomen. It wasn’t that he didn’t talk, that was cause enough. But the boy just seemed…lost, emotionless and drained.
She flicked through his file, yet again. Trying to find anything she may have missed. The only thing that glared at her, was his telephone number. She had asked Mrs. Davies how to go about contacting his father, but was flatly told that even if she was a teacher, under the school system, it would be extremely difficult without appropriate cause.
But what was appropriate cause, she wondered. Something was troubling him, and it was her job to help. That was appropriate enough. For her.
She picked up the handpiece and ignored the tension in her stomach as she dialled the number. There was only one ring.
“Good afternoon. Raven Apartments, this is Samantha. How may I help you?”
Nicole cleared her throat. “Hi, can you put me through to Dean Page please?”
There was a rather long pause after Nicole finished. “Hello?”
“May I ask who’s calling?” the receptionist replied.
“Yes, my name is Nicole O’Brien. I’m calling from St. Andrews.”
Yet another pause. “And what would this be pertaining too?”
“It is in regards to his son.”
“Clearly,” Samantha snapped. “But what specifically is the problem?”
Seriously?
“Well, as I am involved with the counsellor’s office, it would be rather inappropriate for me to relay the message to you. I would just like to converse with Zachary’s father, please.”
“Unfortunately he is out at the moment, so I’ll have to take that message.”
So why didn’t you just say that in the beginning then? Nicole pulled a face at the telephone.
“I’ll call back later, then. Thanks very much.”
Nicole clicked the phone hard, gathered her things and headed out. Her mind raced as fast as her feet, moving through the kids rushing towards the exit at the end of the school day. Frustration turned into anger. Who the hell was that bitch? Nicole rummaged around for her keys in her bag as she approached her car.
“Shit…”she said under her breath. “Where are they?”
“Looking for these?”
Nicole turned around to see her keys being held out to her.
“You dropped them back there.” Nick gestured vaguely behind him. I would’ve called out but you looked really pissed. I wanted to make sure you’re ok.”
“Yeah, I…thanks,” Nicole sa
id, taking them. “Just a really rude woman on the phone, nothing major. I’ll live,” she said, forcing a smile. “Can I offer you a lift home to say thanks?”
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. Normally I would say yes to a ride, but today I have to head up to Eastgardens and meet my cousin at about seven-thirty or so.”
“That’s four hours from now. You sure?”
“Yeah, she’s a teacher. She has work to clear up. I don’t mind. I was thinking about treating myself to a movie. I’m curious to see what the theatres are like over here.” Nick stopped and looked at her with a slight uncertainty. “Would you…care to join?”
Nicole thought about it. She really didn’t have anything else on tonight. Plus as she glanced over the blue of his eyes, and glanced again, there were definitely worse things she could spend her time on.
“You know what? Sure, why not? Only one condition. I pay for my own ticket.”
Nick bobbed on his feet briefly, hands behind his back. “Counter proposal; you buy the tickets and I pay for the snacks.”
“Deal,” Nicole said, holding out her hand.
“Deal.” Nick smiled, giving her hand a single, firm shake. The good hand shake wasn’t the only thing she noticed. The moment their skin touched, a pleasant warmth spread over her, numbing her anger. She was feeling better already. Much better.
Her grandmother’s advice popped into her mind before she could stop it. “Nothing like a good man for what ails you” Grandma was old-fashioned, but she also had her share of wisdom. Nicole grinned in spite of herself.
*
True to his word, Nick had bought the snacks only. There were no tricks like the coffee, and she appreciated that. She had chosen a “safe” movie—action comedy, which they both enjoyed.
She noted the way he ate his popcorn. Grabbing it in one hand as soon as they sat down and using the other to pick and pop it in his mouth. During the trailers she whispered, “Is that how you always eat it?”
Day Dreamer (Undeadly Secrets Book 2) Page 10
