I turned my attention back to Marie so I didn’t have to watch. She gave me another look and laid her head on the arm of the chair. I smiled and scratched her behind the ears.
“Can I get another for you sir?” asked the waitress.
With a start I realized that my glass was empty. The next one needed to go down a little slower.
I ordered a refill and something to soak up the alcohol and fill my empty stomach. The chef here, according to Eva, was a world-renowned pastry chef. His pain au chocolate was, from what I was told, to die for. I asked for a couple.
Back on the stage something was happening. The giggling drunk—and now naked—girl was being led away by three male vamps and the stage was clear. The center section began to rise up, hinged at the rear. Under the section was a woman, kneeling on the floor, one leg stretched out in front of her, her body stretched out along her leg. She was dressed as a ballerina, complete with tutu and those satin shoes with the hard toes.
The girl got to her feet and began to dance. No tawdry strip show was this, but a beautiful, graceful display that somehow managed to be sexier than anything else that had happened on that stage tonight. No clothes came off, nothing was on display, no transparent clothes, no leather, no rubber. But still, nevertheless, she looked alluring.
A vampire obviously agreed with me. He walked to the edge of the stage which, I now saw, was made up like a giant old-fashioned wind-up music box, right down to the mirror in the ‘lid’. The vamp beckoned her over and she paused in her dance to kneel at the edge. The pair exchanged words and the girl stood back up, waving her finger at the vamp and smiling. Then she went back to her dancing.
This was Eva’s friend. And I knew how to get her.
I gave Marie one last pat and stood up. The look she gave me spoke eloquently of the vengeance she would exact if I were dumb enough to tell her to ‘stay’.
Of course I was dumb enough. Seriously. The look on her face was priceless.
I trotted down the stairs and made my way across the dance floor, nodding and smiling to various leeches and dodging drunken victims who wanted to dance with me. I made it to the stage and politely nodded to the dancer. She was even more beautiful up close. She knelt at the edge of the stage.
“Good evening, sir,” she said in flawless French.
“Good evening, my lady,” I replied.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“You can give me your name, my lady.”
She gave me a sultry look and lowered her voice.
“My name is whatever you want it to be, sir.”
I inclined my head and pursed my lips, apparently overcome with disappointment.
“My apologies for taking up your time, my lady.”
I gave her a half bow and turned to negotiate the minefield of the dance floor. I made it back to my seat unscathed.
I had responded correctly to her sign, so now the ball was in her court. I had to admire the elegant simplicity. I had identified myself and now she had the choice. She could respond, if she felt safe enough, or, if she felt she was being watched or if she felt I was dodgy, she could ignore me for the night. Nice.
Sitting on the table was a fresh glass of whiskey and a fine china plate with two delicately browned pastries. I turned to the bar and thanked the waitress with a smile and a nod before sitting down.
I picked up the plate and carefully tore one of the pastries in half. Under the layers of perfectly cooked pastry was a delicate river of soft chocolate. I bit off a portion and chewed. It was everything I’d been promised.
I watched the ballerina as I ate and, it seemed to me, she was glancing up at the balcony a lot as she danced. I wondered if that was a good sign or not.
Marie let out a soft bark, barely audible. I looked down. Her eyes were locked onto mine until she was sure she had my undivided attention. Then she deliberately transferred her gaze to the plate and the pastry and a half there.
I smiled and shook my head. Where had she learned that little trick?
I picked up the piece of pastry and held it in my hand.
“You want this?” I asked.
She nodded.
“And what are you prepared to do to get it?” I asked.
Marie may not speak in her wolf form but her eyes conveyed the message with ease. ‘How about,’ her eyes said, ‘I don’t rip off your arm and shove it up your arse?’
I laughed and held out the pastry to her. She leaned forward, delicately taking it from my fingers with her teeth and, with a few quick movements of her jaws, was licking her lips and looking at the plate again.
“Enjoy that?” I asked.
She nodded.
I laughed and gave her head an affectionate stroke, and then leaned down to kiss her on top of the muzzle.
“You might want to turn it down a little bit,’ I whispered. “I think you’re overacting.”
In response she licked my face with enthusiasm and, unfortunately, quite a lot of saliva.
“On the other hand,” I said, “what do I know?”
She smiled and lay her head on the arm of the chair again. I tore the second pastry into quarters and fed them to her one by one.
We’d agreed beforehand that Cam would neither eat nor drink in the club. If we were spotted and someone put something in our drinks, someone needed to have a clear head.
“Want something to drink?” I asked.
Her eyes swiveled up to mine.
“Yes, puppy, that means a bowl on the floor.”
She smiled a little at the name and nodded.
I beckoned the waitress over.
“A Perrier for me and one in a bowl for my little puppy, here.”
The waitress took my empty whisky glass and backed away.
I really didn’t like Perrier, but I knew that two drinks was my limit when playing a role. It was all too easy to get carried away in the character and get drunk. Things slip when you do that. Sir John was a roisterer, a shagger, a gorger and a hard drinker, a party boy of legendary proportions, but he always remained sober when on business.
The waitress came back with my glass, an opened bottle, and a large silver bowl with ‘la chienne’ engraved on the side in curly script. I supposed that the club was no stranger to slaves who had to drink out of a dog bowl. Suddenly I felt sick at the thought of treating Marie like the vamps treated their property, but before I could think of anything to do, the bowl was on the floor and Marie was lapping up the expensive water. I sighed and took a sip from my own drink. Around the room several vamps were watching the balcony. I could see their expressions clearly as they watched us and, I have to admit, their jealousy felt good. Vamps almost always have it all their own way when dealing with humans, so it was nice to be the object of envy from them.
“Sir?” said the waitress. “Frauline Kohl sent you this with her compliments.”
On her tray was an expensive cigar. My mind raced. Did Sir John smoke cigars? Would he refuse? No, the last time I had played Sir John he’d—I’d—accepted a handsome Cuban from the vamp we were going after.
I nodded and the waitress expertly trimmed the cigar, handing it to me and flicking an expensive table lighter. While I was puffing the cigar into life the waitress spoke in a soft voice.
“Sir? The ballerina on the stage begs to inform you that her name is Suzette.”
I took the cigar out of my mouth and checked to make sure the tip was properly lit.
“Thank you,” I said, placing a small bundle of Euros on her tray, “for everything.”
I relaxed a little, crossing my legs and taking care not to snag my jeans with those ridiculous spurs. I blew out a cloud of blueish, very expensive smoke while I considered my options. She’d made the next move and the ball was now mine. I was supposed to, according to Eva, take the girl—Suzette—away to a private room where we could talk. Everyone would think I was banging the beautiful girl, which would enhance my reputation. Still, something was creeping up on me. There was something i
n the place that didn’t add up. I had no idea what it was but I’ve learned never to ignore such instincts.
Some of the tables were emptying and, for the first time since coming in here, the humans outnumbered the vampires. What was going on?
I placed the half-smoked cigar in the ashtray and stood up. Cam’s eyes met mine and I knew he’d felt it, too. Marie was kneeling, her ears pricked and her nose twitching. Whatever was about to happen, I would feel better with Suzette up here where I could protect her. I turned to descend the stairs.
Before I could move a familiar voice came from the shadows at the back of the balcony.
“Going somewhere, Jack?” said Lady Lucia. “Or should I say Sir John?”
CHAPTER
30
“Oh sit down, Sir John,” she said, walking demurely over to the second chair and lowering herself gracefully.
Marie was growling, a quiet, continuous threat.
“And make the dog be quiet,” said Lucia. “I’m not going to hurt anyone. I just want to talk.”
I bent down and kissed Marie just below her left ear, a pretense so I could whisper.
“Stay alert. Don’t concentrate on her.”
She licked my cheek and nodded. I didn’t want Marie focused on Lucia and possibly missing a threat from another direction.
I beckoned the waitress over and handed her a second wad of notes.
“Please give this to Suzette with my sincerest regrets. I have made other arrangements for this evening, but I do hope that, if time permits later I might enjoy her company.”
The waitress nodded and beamed when I gave her another huge tip for her trouble.
Only then did I go back to my chair and sit down.
“So, the cigar was from you, to cover your scent when you came out of the hidden door back there, right?” I asked.
The vampiress nodded and smiled brightly.
“And the most important leeches—for that, read richest—have been warned and taken away just in case I start shooting the place up, right?”
Again she nodded.
“But the humans are still being let in because, if I do start shooting the place up I’ll kill more corpsebait than corpses.”
“Really, Jack,” she said with a tight smile. “You are almost too smart for your own good.”
“Not smart enough, apparently,” I said, focusing my attention on Marie.
She’d stopped growling but her canines were still bared.
“Your little doggie doesn’t seem pleased to see me,” said Lucia.
“Whereas I’m just turning cartwheels,” I said sarcastically.
She ignored the comment, turning to look up at Cam.
“And this is just the most handsome werewolf I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Who is it?”
“This is Cam,” I said. “He’s one of the inmüt who was going to gang rape you to death when you escaped from Marcus.”
“You work with him?” she said incredulously.
“Sure, everyone deserves a second chance.”
I’ll admit it; I was enjoying seeing her squirm at the sight of the massive wolf that had been mere minutes away from inflicting that horrific punishment on her body.
Then she regained her composure.
“And I?” she said smoothly. “Do I deserve a second chance?”
I regarded her in silence, my hand on Marie’s head. I was acutely aware that we were in a nest of vampires and, while we were undoubtedly the most dangerous things in the area, it would be a bloodbath if we had to fight our way out.
“That depends,” I said, “on what you want a second chance to do.”
“Form an alliance,” she said. “With my rule the North of England is now a much nicer place to live.”
“You’re buying into your own propaganda, I see.”
“No, Jack,” she said, leaning forward, her low-cut ball gown showing off a modest cleavage. “It’s the truth. You and I could get peace declared in England. The war could end.”
“I think not.”
“Ah well,” she said. “And it’s too late to invite you into my bedroom, I suppose.”
Marie growled softly.
“Your puppy is very beautiful,” said Lucia. “Would you allow her to dance for us?”
“Not a snowball’s chance in Hell,” I said. “She’s mine, and I don’t share.”
“A pity. Does she?”
Marie’s growl climbed in volume.
“I’d take that as a ‘no’, if I were you,” I said, my fingertips stroking through Marie’s fur.
I felt along the edge of her collar without taking my eyes off of the vamp. When I found the D-ring I unclipped the leash, allowing it to fall to the floor.
“Oops, butterfingers,” I said.
“Jack,” said Lucia. “One of my operatives has her in his sights as we speak. What would you do, I wonder, if I had her killed?”
I leaned forward, my face made of stone.
“If any harm comes to her my revenge will cause such pain and misery that you’ll wish Cam and his friends had caught up to you. I will devote my life to the cause of inflicting pain on you. Your death will last decades. By the time I’m finished with you, you will be begging for an end, and end that will only come after I had wrung every last tear, every last scream, every last pitiful whimper from your broken body.”
There was dead silence on the balcony for five long seconds. Lucia was scared of me, I suddenly realized. She was terrified of the threat I represented. She tried to laugh.
“Oh Jack, learn how to take a joke.”
“I don’t find threats funny,” I said, sitting back. “Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? You want to know why I’m here.”
It wasn’t a question.
“You mean you didn’t come here just to chat with me?” she said.
I could actually see a way through this. A sneaky idea was starting to form in my mind. I stared at the vamp in silence as I refined the idea into something resembling a plan.
“Okay Jack, why are you here?”
“A deal?” I said. “I tell you why we’re here, you tell me what you know about what we’re looking for?”
“Intriguing,” she said, giving me a speculative look. “How about a show of good faith? Answer one question for me?”
“If you answer one in return.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“What are you doing here in France?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“That’s easy,” she said. “I had a meeting with Herr Sturmbannführer. I simply happened to see you on a security camera.”
Not a complete answer, but at least she wasn’t here for any reason connected to us.
“What’s your question?” I asked.
“What did you want with the dancer? I thought your puppy didn’t share?”
That was a jolt. Did she suspect Suzette of passing information?
I shrugged, forcing my voice to sound casual.
“I watched leeches taking humans away all night. I felt sorry for her and thought she might like a night off.”
“A night off?”
“Yeah, a night not having to playact beneath some sweaty dickhead vampire.”
Lucia smiled and stared off into space.
“Always the boy scout, eh Jack?” she said. “Actually she’s very well treated.”
“For a whore,” I finished. “And cattle.”
“Oh, Jack,” she said, looking back at me. “She gets better treatment than many humans find at the hands of other humans. She only has to go with the ones she decides to go with, and guests are forbidden to enchant her.”
“Yes, because vamps are so very good at obeying the rules.”
She smiled indulgently.
“Okay, Jack, you have a deal. In exchange for telling me why you’re here, I’ll help you with whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Okay, what do you know about a group of Romanian vampires who have been hanging around here flashing
flipping great wodges of cash?”
“No, answer first. What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for a group of Romanian vampires who have been hanging around here flashing flipping great wodges of cash.”
She sat in silence, staring at me.
“Okay,” I said eventually. “A group of vampires raided the Vatican archives.”
Lucia had a good poker face, but I could still read the tension around her eyes. No vampire wanted trouble with the Vatican. With over a billion Christians in the world, a Holy War would be disastrous.
“And?” she asked.
“They stole an artifact, apparently at the behest of Herr Sturmbannführer, who was hired to procure said artifact by said Romanian vampires with said wodges of cash.”
And now it was time to test my idea.
“They stole the Heart of Dracula,” I said.
Lucia’s mask shattered for half a second before she was able to regain control. Bull’s-eye.
“What do you know about them?” I asked.
“I know who you mean. They are members of Dracula’s bloodline, who seek to resurrect him. It’s like a religion to them. They really plan to try?”
“As far as we know,” I said carefully, feeling like a man playing a 30lb fish on a 25lb line. “Where did they go?”
She hesitated.
“Lucia,” I said firmly, “you don’t want him back any more than we do. He’d take over the world. You’d lose as much as we would. He’d turn all the world’s vampires into nothing more than his servants. You wouldn’t rule shit.”
“They went home,” she said simply. “Poenari Castle—Vlad the Impaler’s castle in Romania. That’s where they are going to perform the ritual to resurrect him.”
“Good,” I said, standing up. “Now, one more thing. Where’s the gun you stole from Marie?”
“Still sore about that? How about another deal, Jack?”
Crusader (MPRD Book 2) Page 16
