Part 8 (1/2)

He bowed again and disappeared into the crowd. Shelby grabbed me by the arm. ”Are you insane?” she hissed.

I jerked away from her. ”Are you? You're acting like a virgin on her first date. I thought you'd been to these places before!”

”Top Hat wasn't anything like this,” said Shelby, looking at the nearest platform. Two men were engaged in a slave-and-master display.

”I'm going to take a look at this wall,” I said. ”If you don't want to have someone offer to tongue-bathe you, I suggest you stick with me.”

Shelby leaped up and followed me so closely I felt like I was back in preschool, playing Choo-Choo. The noise and the stench of closely packed, sweaty people were starting to make my head throb, but I'd never admit it. It almost smelled like a pack house, the overwhelming a.s.sault of pheromones jolting my senses repeatedly.

The wall had about twenty photographs on it, some of them not of people's faces. I guess there was something to be said for getting to the point.

”This whole night is a loss,” said Shelby at my elbow. ”If this Samael guy doesn't come out in public, what's the point?”

I was starting to agree with her until a peaked, prematurely aged face in one of the photos leaped out at me. He had looked a little different trying to stab me in the eye, but throw on a leather dog collar and some makeup and it was him.

”Edward,” I said. Shelby looked where I was pointing.

”Who the Hex is Edward?”

”The junkie who tried to kill me the night I found Bryan Howard.” I grabbed the bartender's elbow as he was pa.s.sing and he favored me with a look that would have withered Napoleon. ”What do you know about Edward?”

”That he wouldn't be into you,” the bartender said, jerking his arm away. ”Men only, strictly femme.”

”It's not for personal reasons,” I said. ”I just need to know how long he's worked here and who his a.s.sociates are.”

The bartender's lip curled. ”Listen, little miss newbie, if you're looking for a story to tell your suburban friends about your night in the big bad city, go get drunk and raped in Waterfront. What we do here is private and we don't need your business.”

Charming. Obviously my feminine wiles were powerless. I dug in my wallet and found five twenties, slapping them on the painted plywood. ”A hundred bucks if you get me an appointment with Samael, tonight.”

He reconsidered Shelby and me, eyes narrowing. ”Who are you people?”

”People who know what we want,” I said. ”Samael. Tonight. Can you do it, or are you really just pus.h.i.+ng booze?”

His hand snaked out and snapped up the cash, and he opened the folding section of the bar. ”Come into the back room. We'll negotiate. You.” He pointed at Shelby. ”Wait out here. I can't be seen with someone in that square an outfit.”

I gave Shelby the nod to let her know it was okay and she backed off reluctantly, looking genuinely worried. ”I'll be right here.”

The bartender led me into what turned out to be a storage room and locked the door behind us, pocketing the key.

Or maybe it wasn't so okay. He took out a Baggie of something not confectioner's sugar from his back pocket and offered it to me. ”Want a little snort to relax you?”

”No. I want Samael.”

He rolled his eyes. ”You could try being nice to me, sweetie. Ever think of that?”

”Sorry,” I said. ”Walking, talking rodents tend to bring out the worst in me.”

He laughed, rubbing the c.o.ke along his gums. ”Doesn't matter. You're not getting in to see Samael anytime soon, anyway.” The Baggie disappeared and he advanced on me, fast, pinning my shoulders to the wall. ”I think you'll find that this experience will broaden your horizons plenty. And you did did pay me.” He licked up the side of my neck and laughed again. ”G.o.ds, I love a stupid straight.” pay me.” He licked up the side of my neck and laughed again. ”G.o.ds, I love a stupid straight.”

One hand dropped to tug at my bustier and waistband. My shock that this was actually happening, that a plain human was about to a.s.sault me, finally sank in. He had no idea what I was. To his eyes, I was a dumb career woman who had gotten herself in over her head and was currently paying the price.

The were exploded into my consciousness and I snarled. The bartender stopped his fumbling with my zipper and stared, eyes wide.

I latched a hand onto the back of his neck, so hard I could feel the twin tendons curl under my fingers. Then I drove my knee into his crotch and held it there, crus.h.i.+ng him in a vise until he screamed, which was almost immediately.

”G.o.ds d.a.m.n it!”

I kneed him again, with all of my were strength. ”The G.o.ds have very little to do with this, you son of a b.i.t.c.h.”

He howled and folded like a hastily erected tent, limp on the floor, shaking so hard I thought he might have a convulsion. I can't say I would have stepped in if he did.

I hauled him up, his right arm in a textbook restraining hold, and pointed him to the door. ”Unlock it.”

”The... the key's in my pocket,” he whimpered, tears streaming from his eyes. ”You b.i.t.c.h, you killed me...”

”You've still got one working arm, so I suggest you use it.”

”It hurts!” he moaned.

”Of course it hurts,” I agreed. ”t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es are fragile, aren't they? Now open this door with that key, or I open it with your head.”

He managed to fumble out the key and throw open the door, exposing us to the noise and crush of people once again. Shelby rushed over to us. ”What the Hex happened?”

”She a.s.saulted me!” the bartender howled. ”I want the police!”

”You tried to a.s.sault me first,” I said, ”and we are the police.”

”Jesus,” Shelby said. ”And you got on my case for calling attention!”

”Sorry that getting mauled wasn't on my agenda for the evening,” I snapped. ”Hey, spitwad, where's Samael?”

”In the back room,” he moaned. ”He'll be with clients.”

I twisted his arm to give him a little impetus. 'Take us back there.”

He complied, staggering but managing to stay upright. He was just d.a.m.n lucky it wasn't close to the phase, or he'd be wearing his crotch as a hat.

The back room was an innocuous door located behind the cage that simply read private. The chained woman had been replaced by another, a redhead, and the line was still just as long.

The bartender knocked at the private door. ”Not a word,” I warned him, ratcheting up the pressure on his wrist. He cringed and nodded.

After a long moment the door swung open and a topless woman with electrical tape crossing out her nipples peered at us.

”Robbie, you've got to stop letting the pretty ones use you so,” she said with a smile quirking her lips. ”Samael is going to be most displeased to be disturbed.”

”We're sorry, really,” I said before Robbie could open his mouth. ”Please. We just want to talk to him.”