Part 4 (2/2)

Her life was saved by her manager.

”I'll take this,” she said, ushering her a.s.sistant away and sitting down opposite me with a big box of cosmetics and a broad smile. ”Now, what's the look we're going for?”

I couldn't stop myself from glaring. I so did not appreciate the irony of this, but I knew I needed to look the part to get into the club tonight.

”Vampire,” I said. And I got it. Angry vampire.

Chapter 6.

Rom was as good as his word. I had half expected he wouldn't show up and I'd have to drive the rest of the way, but I didn't have to worry. Shortly after ten that evening, a block away from Club Agonia, his Harley pulled in behind my parked Ford.

He'd joked he didn't have a chauffeur uniform, but I didn't want that. He was in his heavy biker jacket and studded jeans tucked into steel-toed work boots. His wavy hair was combed back by the wind. Perfect.

”Hey, Amber, you sure 'bout this?” He looked to the side, not meeting my eye. ”I asked around. This's not a good place, this club.”

”I know. I'm not going there for fun.” I patted his arm. ”Now, how the h.e.l.l do we do this?”

In a couple of minutes, we were set. I was wrapped in my long velvet cloak and perched uncomfortably behind him, riding sidesaddle. I had my arms around him, holding tight. I had no intentions on anyone that night, but it felt far too good, feeling his heat soak through my gloves while the seat buzzed me wickedly from below. Motorbikes are real bad news for celibates.

Rom brought the Harley around the block, the engine barely muttering at that speed. As we approached, he twisted the throttle until we got more of a snarl, as if he were going to shoot past. Then he slammed the back brake on and spun us around in the middle of the road with a shriek of tires.

Every head outside the club came up.

I stepped off and casually hit him on the shoulder to dismiss him, as we'd agreed. He gunned the engine and roared back down the road, front wheel lifting clear.

I waited till the sound of the bike died. I'd certainly got their attention. Could I carry this off?

h.e.l.l, yeah. I summoned up all the brash confidence I'd learned in Ops 4-10.

I could hear Instructor Ben-Haim's coaching about disguise-The persona you adopt is a sh.e.l.l, a dead thing, a shadow. Pour yourself into this sh.e.l.l. Your life glows. You light up the persona. You s.h.i.+ne through the sh.e.l.l, and people see the persona as a living thing. They don't see you.

I freaking owned this d.a.m.n club. I prowled, slowly and deliberately, towards the door, ignoring the line of people waiting hopefully. It was unthinkable that I would join them.

As I came into the light, I eased the cloak open and pushed the hood back. My arms were sheathed in elbow-length black gloves.

The dress I'd found at Candy's was a 1920s knee-length, backless, black c.o.c.ktail dress with sequins. Beneath that I wore black tights and half-boots. My mom's hat sat to one side of my head and the veil hung down, not obscuring my wonderful vampire makeup at all. I couldn't quite sparkle, if that's what they were expecting, but I slunk up to the door, s.h.i.+mmering in the lights.

Okay, so I lied a little when I spoke to Rom earlier. I hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Being in the police was very worthy, of course. It just wasn't the same as being on a solo mission and all that went with that.

The bouncer silently opened the barrier and I stalked through, letting the cloak float. The mission was green-I was in.

Or so I thought.

I checked the cloak in the lobby and stood for a minute in confusion, looking for a door into the club. I could certainly hear it, but apart from the light in the check-in clerk's cubicle, the lobby was dark. Opposite the cubicle, where I expected the door to be, there was a floor-to-ceiling carved head of a sleeping man, face slack and eyes closed beneath a Neanderthal brow.

On instinct, I walked toward the face. There had to be something there.

As I approached, machinery engaged with a thunk. The brow started to rise. Huge eyes opened, staring madly, spilling yellow light over me, and finally the mouth started to gape.

The air from the club wafted out like hot breath, and the noise of the music shook my bones.

I walked forward on the tongue. It was slightly rubbery and wobbly beneath my feet.

Gross.

The throat deposited me right at the edge of the dancing.

The club had a top of the line sound and light system, and the full crowd inside were enjoying themselves. It was exactly what it depicted on the website; it attracted niche clientele and it catered well for them. There was more leather than a whole ranch of cows and enough metalwork in people's faces to make a combine harvester.

I'd been in quieter riots.

The churn of dancers threw a couple against me. They were moving together roughly in time with the music, which was more than I could say for the threesome I bounced off as I staggered back.

A girl with black leather boots up to her crotch and wearing no more than a wide belt as a skirt was stuck between two guys in vampire costumes.

She saw me and flung out a hand. ”Hey, pretty vamp, give me a hand here,” she yelled. I didn't think she was entirely joking, but she wasn't getting my hand, or any other part of me.

”You got in there, you get yourself out,” I yelled back.

”b.i.t.c.h,” she mouthed amiably at me as the guy bit her neck. She wasn't in any particular danger. It was all fake fangs, all pretend and show.

I'd come here for the Blood Orchid Market, and if it was just a vampire theme night at a hot club, that was okay by me.

I fought my way around the crowd and made it to the bar. There were all sorts of scents in here, but nothing that said real vampire to me.

I found a quieter spot eventually and leaned against the bar, sipping a soda.

The whole place was done in black gla.s.s: walls, ceiling, even the floor. Expensive, bulletproof gla.s.s, the kind they use in the floors of observation towers that people can jump up and down on. Each huge panel was rimmed with s.h.i.+ny steel and seemed to suck light in. The gla.s.s gave me the creeps for some reason.

The bar was at the far end from the entrance. In front of me, the dance floor heaved like a herd stampeding. On the right, the DJ was set up against a structure covered in scored metal that reflected lights and shapes.

I pictured the layout of the building.

That structure took up a whole lot of room. The way it came out at an angle above the DJ was odd. Maybe there was a set of stairs inside, going up to the next floor? They hadn't been in the plans the colonel had given me.

There were two more floors. The original stairs had been against the wall, and there was no sign of them now. Okay, so that was almost certainly a set of stairs behind the DJ.

If this was the dance floor, what went on upstairs? If there were vampires in the club, would they come down and dance, or would I need to go up and find them?

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