Authors: J.J. Bonds
“Thanks, Nikki,” Keegan tells her as we turn to go. “I’m glad to see you’re still… alive. It’s better this way. Believe me.”
Stepping back out onto the street, I gulp in the fresh evening air, thankful to be free of the smoky bar. “At least we know where to find him now.”
“Should’ve known,” Keegan responds looking disgusted with himself. “Stupid git is at a brothel.”
“I’ve never been to a brothel before,” Nik offers helpfully as a deviant smile spreads over his face. “This should be fun.”
“Down boy,” I scold him. “Or have you forgotten why we’re here?”
Chapter Fifteen
“You know, bribing the girl downstairs seemed like a good idea right up until now,” I say, studying the scene in front of us. The room itself is nothing special. It’s little more than a rundown love shack. Stained carpet, dingy curtains, and the coup de grace, a king size bed complete with whips and chains. But it isn’t the unimpressive room that triggers my gag reflex, it’s the inhabitants. A half-naked vamp- I have to assume it’s Ryder- is chasing a small Asian girl around the room while another rolls around on the satin draped bed. Despite the fact that he’s paying for sex, Ryder isn’t a bad looking guy. He’s got the slender build of an addict and a mop of stringy dark hair that’s balanced out by a well-kept goatee. “Who’d have thought kicking in the door would end like this?”
“Babe, you do know what they do in a brothel, right?” Nik asks, grinning from ear to ear. It’s obvious he’s not nearly as grossed out by the scene before us. Actually, he looks pretty amused. Whether he’s laughing at my reaction or the situation, I’m not sure.
“Ryder. Long time, no see.”
“Keegan O’Malley?” Ryder looks pretty annoyed at our intrusion. Judging by his state of undress and the two working girls, I’d have thought the more, the merrier. Guess I still have a few things to learn. “I don’t like being interrupted when I’m with my girls, but I must admit, I am curious as to what you’re doing back in The Big Easy after all this time.”
“We need to talk,” Keegan tells him. I’m kind of impressed by his authoritative tone. Too bad it doesn’t work.
“Can’t you see that I’m busy?” Ryder grabs the fleeing hooker and licks her neck. She sighs with pleasure. The whole thing is totally creepy.
The girl on the bed giggles and I decide it’s time she and her friend take a walk. I’ve seen more than enough and it’s clear Ryder can’t focus with them present. I grab their skimpy clothes from the nearby table and promptly throw them out the open window.
“Unless you can fly, I suggest you get the hell out of here,” I growl, baring my fangs. “Now.”
The girls begin to scream and frantically clamber for the door, tripping over one another in their platform stilettos. Nik steps aside to let them pass and I give him a look that I hope says ‘that was easy’.
“You know, I’d ask why you’re here, but I really don’t care,” Ryder says, pulling on his shirt. Like Keegan and myself, he’s of mixed-blood. Ryder’s got the Grimm Reaper tattooed on his back with an inscription that says ‘Death comes to us all’. Apparently he was just as creepy when he was a human. He continues to ignore us and downs a bottle of blood from the top of the nightstand.
“You’d better start caring,” Keegan tells him. His dark eyes flash angrily. It’s the first time I’ve seen him lose any semblance of control. I doubt it will be the last, knowing Shaye’s life is on the line.
“Why? Because you’ve so politely dropped in here unannounced and chased off the entertainment?” Ryder asks. He actually has the audacity to look outraged. “Those girls were paid for!”
“They looked classy enough,” Keegan returns. “I’m sure they’ll give you a rain check.”
“Cut the crap!” I interject, losing my patience with their stupid banter. “We came for information and we’re not leaving without it.”
Nik snickers behind my back, but I ignore him.
“Who’re the kids?” Ryder asks, eyeing Nik and me. I hold my ground as he approaches, looking me over like a piece of meat. “This one may be cute, but she needs to learn her place.”
“Like she said, we’re here for information,” Keegan responds. “I’m looking for a shifter. This guy would have recently taken a job against one of the pharmaceutical companies. He nicked something very valuable to the Elder’s Council. I need to find him.”
“Are you here as a representative of the Council, then?” Ryder asks, keeping his eyes fixed on me. My skin actually crawls at the thought of his touch.
“Tell us what you know,” Keegan orders, ignoring Ryder’s question.
Ryder doesn’t even notice. His mind doesn’t really seem to be on business. The leer on his face suggests he’s still preoccupied with play.
“You have beautiful skin.” He strokes my face and I’m through playing nice.
“And you don’t,” I return, grabbing Ryder by the neck. I drive him across the room, slamming his back against the wall. The force leaves a crack in the plaster. As it crumbles to the floor, I pin him there, putting my forearm across his neck. He struggles to free himself, but he’s no match for me. His feet dangle inches from the floor. No big surprise, he’s underestimated my strength. Sometimes a youthful appearance can be an asset. There’s no way he could expect me to have the strength of a thousand year old elder, but I do. Thanks to Aldo’s blood, and the element of surprise, Ryder doesn’t stand a chance.
“How do you like me now?” I ask, applying additional pressure to his throat.
“Who the hell are you?” Ryder sputters. He looks pretty pissed. I guess I’d be embarrassed too if I were the one with my back against the wall.
“That’s not important,” I tell him. “What’s important is that you answer Keegan’s questions because I’m done screwing around. I want answers. Now.”
“Piss off!” he screams. “I’m not telling you jack!”
“Wrong answer.” I punch him in the face and find myself pleased at the sight of blood trickling down his jaw. Nik and Keegan watch quietly. “Let’s try this again.”
“Even if I knew something, I make my living selling secrets,” he screams. “If you aren’t paying for the information, then we’ve got nothing to discuss. Besides, I’m no snitch. I talk to you and I’m dead.”
“You don’t talk to me and you’re dead tonight,” I promise him, steeling my resolve. “Make no mistake; you will not live to see the sun rise.”
He looks skeptical. His eyes seek confirmation from Keegan and Nik.
“Look. At. Me,” I command. “I will do whatever it takes to find out what I want to know, even if it means tearing you limb from limb.”
He calls my bluff. “I’m not afraid of you, you little bitch!”
“I warned you.” I break his left arm and Ryder screams like a little girl. Anything for Shaye.
“Katia!” Nik yells as he races forward. Keegan steps between us, blocking Nik’s path.
“Don’t,” he tells Nik, placing a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. “This needs to happen for Ryder to understand the gravity of his present situation.”
“He’s fine,” I assure Nik. “That arm will be good as new in a few minutes.
If
he cooperates.”
Ryder gets the message and starts talking. “Maybe I did hear something,” he squeals. “There’s been some talk. There’s always talk about a job this big.”
“We’re listening,” Keegan says, releasing Nik.
“There are maybe five guys who could do the kind of job you’re talking about. I know two of them personally. One is based here in New Orleans. He could be your guy.”
“Keep talking,” I say, pleased with our progress. Now we’re getting somewhere. I let him go as a show of good faith. After all, Ryder can probably think more clearly when his life’s not hanging in the balance. He rubs his neck, giving me a dirty look.
“The guy is lethal and expensive and fairly new on the scene. They call him The Shadow. He’s an independent contractor. Most of his work has been for humans and while I hear his resume is extensive, this was an important job.”
He points to the nightstand and I give him the okay to grab another bottle of blood. He downs it in seconds, no doubt hoping it will expedite the healing of his fractured arm.
“This job, it was the kind that can’t be botched. The kind that makes you a legend.” He laughs. “Whatever it was, I guess he pulled it off if you’re here. What’d he do to you, steal your prom date?”
I punch him again, this time in the stomach. He hunches over, gripping his midsection. Violence seems to be the only thing he understands.
“There’s nothing funny about this situation. A lot of vamps will die,” I tell him angrily. “How do we contact this guy?”
“How should I know? Do I look like a bloody secretary?”
“Wrong answer.”
“Okay, okay,” he relents, looking beat down. “Try the bar at Alibis. It’s over in the Quarter. Ask for Blondie.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Nik’s the first to speak when we leave the brothel. “That was a very convincing performance. For a minute there I really thought you might kill him.”
“Silly vampire,” I tell him smiling wryly. Nik’s got a lot to learn if he really intends to join the Linkuri. Did I want to kill Ryder? No. But would I have done it if it came to that? Hell, yeah. I live every day with the death of innocent humans on my conscience. I’m not sure I would have lost any sleep over a sleazy vamp criminal like Ryder. At least I’d know he had it coming. “I
would
have done it. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Shaye.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alibis looks like every other bar in the Quarter: beautifully designed with French influences and open balconies showcasing inebriated patrons. And why not? It’s only three in the morning. The night is young and the moon is full. Unlike some of the dives we hit earlier this evening, Alibis is three whole floors of Mardi Gras fun.
“More levels, more bars,” I comment as we approach the stoic bouncer guarding the door. He’s big, beefy and dressed all in black. He’s also sweating like a pig in the humid early morning air. I crinkle my nose in disgust as he swats a mosquito with one of his meaty hands. Fortunately, he doesn’t look too bright. He should be easy to influence.
“We’ll split up,” Keegan decides. “I’ll take the first floor. Nik, you’ve got the second.”
“Which leaves lucky number three for me,” I say, handing my ID to the stooge at the door.
Nik uses compulsion on the bouncer to get us in. Nik and Keegan have ID’s showing they’re of legal age, but my license shows a teenage girl. The bouncer barely looks at it as Nik persuades him that the piece of flimsy plastic belongs to a twenty-one year old.
We split up as soon as we’re inside. The bar is all dark wood and mirrors. Strobe lights have been positioned around the room to illuminate the place. The harsh lights bounce off the mirrors nearly blinding me. I
hate
strobe lights. They belong in a haunted house, not a bar. The beer posters lining the back wall seem far more fitting for this place.
I spot the stairs at the rear of the building and head straight for them, shoving my way through the crowd unapologetically. I want to get this over with and get the hell out of here. It’s a little less packed on the third floor, but no less oppressive. The place is loud, crowded, and dirty. Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ blasts from the speakers. The floors are coated with spilled drinks and my boots stick to the wooden floor with each step. Gross. The cloying stink of body odor, perfume, and pheromones fill the air. Double gross.
I elbow my way up to the bar and wave a hand to get the bartender’s attention. Like the guy out front, he’s built. He wears black leather pants and a fitted black tee. His blonde hair is slicked back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and as he approaches, I notice a spark of intelligence in his eyes.
“What’ll you have?” He barely makes eye contact in his haste. I watch as he pulls a towel from his back pocket and starts wiping up a puddle of what smells like beer from the heavily shellacked bar.
“I’m looking for Blondie.” Must have been the magic word, because he drops his towel and looks at me for the first time.
“What a waste,” he responds, giving me a lascivious grin. “Pretty little thing like you playing for the other team.”
He makes his way down the bar, flashing his seductive smile at the female customers. He stops several times along the way to take orders and pass out drinks. I notice he only waits on the women, probably to maximize tips. I guess that explains the male-female bartending team. When he reaches the end of the bar, he whispers something to the thin, platinum blonde who’s clearing the empties. She glances my way, dumps the glasses in the sink and saunters over.
Up close, I can see that she’s not as young as she used to be. Her face is tarnished with the telltale signs of hard living. I guess she’s in her mid-thirties and unmarried if her ring finger is any indication. It’s probably why she’s working in this bar and moonlighting as a point man for a nameless, faceless mercenary.
“I don’t know you,” she says, leaning in close and placing her palms down on the bar. There’s a slight edge to her voice. I imagine she’s wary of strangers. Can’t say I blame her. “Do I?”
“No. And I plan to keep it that way.”
“So it’s gonna be like that, Sugar?” She looks me over, sizing me up. I doubt her usual clientele is so young. “Alright. I’ll bite. What can I do for you?”
This place is loud. The blaring music makes intelligent conversation damn near impossible. That may be a benefit to the rest of the clientele, but it’s a pain in the ass for me. Even with my heightened senses, I’ve got to focus to hear the sultry bartender’s words. I figure if she’s not worried about confidentiality, I don’t need to be either. It takes a lot of effort to hold an actual conversation, and everyone in earshot seems to be focused on scoring a deeper level of drunken stupidity or a warm body to curl up with tonight. Besides, I’ll be gone tomorrow. But how to play it? I need to get to the The Shadow and she’s my only link.
“I’m looking to make a connection.”
“Sugar, I’m flattered, but you’re a little young for me and frankly, I don’t do well with commitment.” She gives me a coy smile and tosses her shiny hair. “Now, I’m fixin to go make some money, but you take a look around. Pretty face like yours, you can have your pick of the place.”