Industrial Magic
Page 87

 Kelley Armstrong

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
II think youll like what weve done here, Cassandra, Ronald said. Its a new age for us, and were taking advantage of it. Adapting to the times. Refusal to change is the death knell of any civilizationthats what Hans says.
Step on my heels again and youll hear a death knell.
She stopped before another door, waved me forward. I slipped past Ronald.
I want you to wait out here, Cassandra said.
I shook my head. You go, I go.
I wont be responsible for you, Paige.
You arent, I said, and pushed open the door.
Beyond the door was a cavernous room, just barely illuminated by a dull red glow. At first, I couldnt make out the source of the lighting, but then I noticed that the faux Grecian pillars were pieced with tiny holes, each letting out a thin ray of red light, like an infrared pointer.
One glance around and I knew the designation bar no longer applied to the Rampart. It was a club, probably a private one. The only furnishings were a half-dozen couches and divans, most of them occupied. Areas on either side of the room had been cordoned off with beaded curtains. Only the occasional murmur or muffled laugh broke the silence.
On the nearest sofa, two women were curled up together, one semireclined, holding her hand out, the other bending over whatever her companion held. Cocaine, maybe methamphetamine. If Hans and his bunch had opened an exclusive drug club, they were treading dangerous ground for people who had to stay below the radar. I wasnt sure whether this violated the councils statutes, but wed need to look into it after this investigation was over.
One of the women on the divan leaned over her partners arm. I tried to glance over discreetly, to see what kind of drugs they were using, but the woman wasnt holding anything. Instead, she stretched out her arm, empty palm up, forearm braced with her other hand. A dark line bisected the inside of her forearm. She clenched her fist and a rivulet of blood trickled down. Her companion lowered her mouth to the cut.
I stumbled back, hitting Cassandra. She turned sharply, mouth opening to snap at me, then followed my gaze. She wheeled on Ronald.
Who is that woman? I dont know her.
Shes not Ronald lowered his voice. not a vampire.
Not a? I said. Then why is she?
Because she wants to, Ronald said. Some like to give, some to receive. Hardly a new fetish, but theyve become more open about it. Were simply taking advantage
Cassandra stomped off before he could finish. She strode to the nearest curtain and shoved it back, to the yelps of the surprised guests within. She swungaround, letting the curtain fall, and headed for the next cubicle. Ronald scrambled after her. I stayed where I was. Id seen enough.
Youre not seeing the beauty of it, Cassandra, Ronald whispered. The opportunities. Hiding in plain sight, thats the ultimate goal, isnt it? Other races can do it. Why shouldnt we?
Cassandra shoved back another beaded curtain. I looked away, but not fast enough. Inside was the singer, in her mock bridal ensemble, splayed across the center of the couch, arms outstretched, her two female companions each attached leechlike to an arm, her dress shoved up around her hips while her male bodyguard crouched before her, pants downand I dont need to describe anymore. Suffice to say, I hoped to wipe the scene from my memory before it reappeared at an inopportune moment, and ruined a perfectly good round of bed games.
Cassandra whirled on Ronald. Get these people out of here now.
Butbuttheyre members. Theyve paid
Get them out and consider yourself lucky if money is all you lose.
Mmaybe this wasnt such a good idea, maybe we made an error in judgment, but
Cassandra brought her face down to his. Do you remember the Athenian problem? Do you remember the penalty for their error in judgment?
Ronald swallowed. Give me a minute.
He hurried to the singers cubicle and pushed his head through the beaded curtain. I caught the words police, raid, and five minutes. The quartet came barreling out so fast, they were still pulling on their clothes as they raced past me.
A minute later, as the last stragglers stumbled for the exit, a door opened at the far end of the room. In strode a tall woman in her late twenties. Her face was too angular to be pretty, with features better suited to a man. She wore her blond hair long and straight, an uncomplimentary style that left one with the fleeting impression that she might be a guy in drag, yet her black silk baby-doll revealed enough to reassure any confused onlooker that she was indeed gender female. Even her feet were bare, toes painted bright red, as were her fingernails and her lips. It looked as if shed put on her lipstick in the dark, and smeared it. As she moved into the semilit room, I saw that it wasnt lipstick at all, but blood.
Wipe your mouth, Brigid, Cassandra snapped. No one here is impressed.
I thought I heard harping, Brigid said, gliding into the center of the room. I should have known it was the queen bitch A tiny smile. Whoops, I meant queen bee.
We know what you meant, Brigid. Have the guts to admit it.