Part 5 (2/2)

My arrival had been ignored. Whoever was here wasn't paying me any attention.

I was disoriented by what light there was; there were drapes like veils ahead of me and through them, the floor beyond seemed to glow and pulse, while the ceiling was dark. Between me and the drapes it was darker, but I could sense there were shapes, moving.

I stumbled, instinctively reaching out with a hand.

I touched naked flesh. Rhythmically moving naked flesh. A man groaned.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed my hand back.

All around me, people were making out. On low, bulbous sofas, or floor cus.h.i.+ons, or just the floor. What the h.e.l.l had I expected in a freaking s.e.x club?

I couldn't see well enough, but the sounds didn't suggest anything other than s.e.x, and there was no coppery smell here-I couldn't smell vampire, no, but I could certainly smell the s.e.x.

Someone moaned with pleasure just beside me. A hand brushed against my calf, lingered.

I moved before I got invited to join, edging nervously through the obstacle course, through the gossamer drapes, which were eerie to touch, and into the open s.p.a.ce of the upper floor of the club.

I stopped to get my breath back. Up here, the fas.h.i.+on mix from the dance club was reversed.

Here be many vampires. Pretend ones. Still no coppery scent.

There was a bar at the far side, and between me and the bar, the floor was open. It was strobe-lit from below somehow. People swirled across it as if they were dancing in the lights. They would gather in groups, pause and chatter, then the group would dissolve and they'd swirl around some more, like flocks of birds. Everyone seemed to have their head down half the time. I'm not up on all the latest dance moves, but I'd never heard of this one.

The bar seemed to be a better place to stand and look around.

I walked across and finally caught on. I managed not to stumble again, which wouldn't have been cool at all. The floor was gla.s.s. I could see the people dancing in the club below me.

I made it to the bar and ordered a rum. Mission rules be d.a.m.ned.

I watched Domine's inner club members sweep to and fro over the market. One group made a selection, pointing eagerly, and a couple of staff dressed like the two on the door were dispatched to fetch a man and a woman from the dance floor. The group and their selections then disappeared up a staircase at the side of the room. Two guys had a single girl fetched and went to find some s.p.a.ce behind the drapes.

I had a better idea than I wanted of what was behind the drapes. What was upstairs?

From the plans I knew there had been rooms up there, but the club had changed since then. Maybe there were bedrooms. Maybe, given the club's kink, there were dungeons. It was too crowded to swing a whip behind the drapes and there hadn't looked to be any kind of place anyone could be strapped down.

I shuddered and then pushed the images aside. I was here on recon, not to judge. And regardless, the dancers who had been selected and come up didn't seem at all upset. On the contrary, they looked as if they regarded it as some sort of a privilege. The club couldn't operate if people disappeared after going upstairs, and it was popular, so I had to guess they still regarded it as a privilege when they came back downstairs.

That didn't necessarily mean there weren't vampires up there.

A mixed group of five came down the stairs and made their way slowly to the bar. They looked sated and tired; a couple of them also looked sore and were moving carefully. No one had any bite marks on their necks.

A couple at the bar saw me watching. She was a curvy redhead, dressed in a black silk pant suit. He was stocky, with fair hair held in a ponytail by a tight steel clip. They were both pretty as magazine covers, skin so pale I wondered if that was cosmetics. While they both stared intently at me, she ran her hand up and down his groin and he casually opened her s.h.i.+rt to caress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She licked her crimson lips in unmistakable invitation.

Oh c.r.a.p. I turned away abruptly and gulped the rum. Not just vampires and bouncers to avoid. It was all kinds of fascinating to see, but I had a job to do. I slunk further around the bar, trying to avoid catching anyone's eye.

Staff moved through the club. There were two types: the fetchers and door guards, who were dressed in romantic eighteenth century outfits, and the wait staff, who were dressed in very little. Both s.e.xes of wait staff wore thongs and some kind of collar. The men wore tight cowboy chaps and had made a serious investment in their abs. The women wore short leather basques and I suspected some had made serious investments in their chests. All the wait staff seemed kind of stiff, and I stopped one woman who was pa.s.sing.

”Your pleasure, mistress?” she whispered, holding her tray in front of her belly.

”Just wanted a better look at you, really,” I said.

”Of course.” She put her tray behind her and arched her back.

I ignored the display she was putting on. My eyes fixed on her collar. It was made of dull metal, a weave of circles and barbs that dug into the flesh of her neck. No wonder the wait staff moved stiffly.

I looked closer. ”That's broken your skin.”

”Yes, mistress, it does.”

”You're bleeding,” I said. She didn't nod-she couldn't really without more pain, but her head moved a little and she smiled. ”You like it?” I asked incredulously.

”She does, of course.” Another woman slipped between us. ”Don't you, Giselle?”

”Yes, Domine.”

French from the sound of her voice, the mysterious Domine was a small woman, a full head shorter than her employee, whom she held tightly against her.

She offered her face up, inviting a kiss, or demanding it. Giselle had to bend her head. A gasp escaped her as the spikes pierced her flesh. Her eyes darkened and closed.

The kiss was a lingering touch of lips. Then Domine chuckled and licked Giselle's chest beneath the collar, where a little blood had trickled down. Giselle's breath sighed out.

I backed up, feeling a little nauseous and fighting not to show it.

Domine hadn't come alone. I could feel others behind me and a glance confirmed two men standing there in the highwayman costumes. Domine herself was in a black lace dress, a blood-red ribbon in her white hair. A single crimson rose had been embroidered on her dress above her left breast.

Spectacle over, Domine dismissed Giselle and spun to face me, her eyes bright. ”And you, etranger, did you enjoy that?”

”Watching you lick some blood from her chest? No, not my scene.”

”And what is your scene?”

I said the first thing that came into my head. ”Something with a bit more freedom and pa.s.sion on both sides.”

”Ah, yes. Freedom. The angoisse is not good for that. However much she enjoys it, it does inhibit movement, even if you take her debout, up against a wall. And not just Giselle, of course. All the wait staff are torquate. Pa.s.sion? Well, you find pa.s.sion where you will.”

”You lost me at 'yes',” I said.

She laughed. ”I like a person who admits the truth straight off. It saves so much time. Come.”

She led the way, and although they didn't actually touch me, her goons shepherded me in her wake.

Her office was behind the bar.

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