Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)

BOOK: Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)
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Club Nexus

By
E.J. Stevens

 

 

Club
Nexus

E.J.
Stevens

 

Published
by Sacred Oaks Press

 

Copyright
2013 E.J. Stevens

All
rights reserved

 

Publisher’s
Note

This
is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events,
or locales is entirely coincidental.

The
scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other
means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by
law.  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not
participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.  Your
support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

Kindle
License Notes

This
ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
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hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Introduction

ICED

DUSTED

JINXED

DEMONIZED

 

 

 

 

Author’s
Note

 

Club Nexus is comprised of four short stories—Iced, Dusted,
Jinxed, and Demonized.  I highly recommend reading these stories in order for
the most powerful, and pleasurable, reading experience.

But, of course, you can and will read these stories any
which way you like.  No matter how you read Club Nexus—back to front, upside
down, or in a tutu—I hope you enjoy these glimpses into the paranormal
nightlife of Harborsmouth.

xx,

E.J.

 

 

“But I
don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.

“Oh,
you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here.”

--Lewis
Carroll,
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

W
elcome to Club
Nexus, a singular entertainment experience deep in the heart of Harborsmouth.

If you have discovered our exclusive club, then it’s likely
you belong to our specialized clientele.  We cater to the needs and desires of
vampires, demons, faeries, both Seelie and Unseelie, and their human servants.

To ensure the privacy of our patrons, a glamour has been
cast to ward our club from detection by non-paranormals.  We also provide club
security, both at the door and within our fine establishment.

Our well trained security staff do more than keep out
unwelcome human riffraff.  Due to our unique location atop crisscrossing lay
lines, Club Nexus has been declared neutral ground.  As such, we at Club Nexus
have strict rules of conduct.  Bloodshed must be consensual or the guilty
parties risk punishment—death, maiming, or banishment from our club—at our
security staff’s discretion.

If you do hunger to satisfy unorthodox tastes and wish to
walk the tightrope of our rules, you may be interested in the services of Mr.
Goodfellow.  Puck is a resourceful creature who will likely be able to provide
what you desire—for a price.

We do hope you enjoy your visit to Club Nexus.  Whether you
are in need of a drink, a special someone, or a special someone to drink, we at
Club Nexus are at your service.

 

 

 

ICED

 

I
blew a stray lock
of hair from my eyes while running a damp cloth over the bar.  The raven black
curl froze at the edge of my vision, ice crystals from my breath coating it
like the dust of fractured diamonds.  But within seconds the damp chunk of
bangs thawed from the perpetual heat of the club.

The heat was one of the many things that I despised about
bartending at Club Nexus.  There were places within the club that were as cold
as the Unseelie court I’d once called home—they had something here to please
any fae in the upper echelons of power—but those areas were off limits to all
but royalty and their trusted staff.  Lowly club employees, such as myself,
didn’t make it past the velvet rope.

Not that a silly rope barrier would have kept me from the
sweet embrace of one of the Winter Court’s icy, private booths.  No, the true
deterrents were the heavily armed guards—a griffin with a razor sharp beak and
a boggart with a particularly nasty disposition, even for one of my dark fae
brethren.  I sighed and pushed the lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind
one of my pointy, blue ears.

I was proud of my pointy ears, slender figure, and unusual
seven foot height, for these things marked me as highborn fae.  What I wasn’t
so keen on was my current living situation.  Once upon a time, I’d graced the
halls of the Winter Court in finery spun from spider silk, my hair pinned up
with late blooming roses, strands of ice crystals around my neck.  Now I was
bedecked in an unflattering uniform, and had to bear drunken pickup lines from
lowly light fae while serving my enemies drinks and cleaning up their messes.  Oh,
how the mighty had fallen.

I’d been tricked into an unfavorable bargain that left me
with no alternative but to work off my debt here at Club Nexus as little more
than a slave.

The man who’d tricked me, a notorious Seelie fae named Puck,
was little more than a pimp.  He used a number of underhanded methods to hold
sway over a variety of races: vamps, demons, humans, and fae.  Puck ran girls
through this club for sex, blood, and sport.  I suppose I should count myself
lucky that he’d been enamored by the idea of having an Unseelie bartender who
could chill drinks with her very breath, but my position as a servant still
rankled.

It was a predicament that should not have befallen one of
the highborn.  I gripped the dishrag tight, the dirty remains of spilled drinks
dribbling down my wrist.  I grimaced at the foul liquid and tossed the rag into
a bucket of soapy water.  Sulking wouldn’t free me from this foul job, but an
ear in the right place just might.

I turned my attention to Puck, who had walked in moments
before and now had his head tilted close to the ear of a vampire.  They made an
unlikely pair, the towheaded faerie with his smiling cherubic face and the
fanged vampire coated in the dust of the grave.  With the fangs of a vampire
mere inches from his jugular one might worry for Puck’s safety, if you didn’t
know who he really was.

No matter his appearance, Puck was no angel; his kind was
worse than any demon.  He was a trickster who thrived on chaos and the thrill
of cheating others out of all they had, whether that meant parting them from
their money, their blood, or their souls.

I moved toward the two on the pretense of feeding the small
faerie who provided illumination from within a glass lantern further down the
bar.  I placed a scoop of honey inside a trough cut into the base of the
lantern and listened.

“In the market for a short or tall ten pints?” Puck asked. 
“Had a new shipment of Ice in this week, so your drink can come feisty or
sedate.  Take your pick.”

My ears pricked at the mention of Ice—in the Winter Court we
had over three thousand words for ice—but I realized that Puck was only discussing
the drug he dealt to his special clientele.  The drug was used to subdue humans,
and was especially useful to vampires who wanted new blood slaves without the
bother of convincing the mortals fairly.  Not that seducing humans while using
glamour to make themselves irresistible would be considered fair to most
mortals, but it was a game we fae could understand.  But the act of drugging
their victims senseless seemed like cheating.

I wrinkled my nose and turned away.  I disliked vampires and
the street names for what Puck was selling.  “Ten pints” was slang for humans,
since that was the quantity of blood in an average adult and “Ice” was the
black market drug that numbed the minds of its users.  The discussion of Puck’s
side business let me know that I’d learn nothing more of interest here.  Puck
was bargaining, not sharing damning secrets.

I needed to learn something I could use to gain my freedom,
preferably a secret so dark that I could throw off my bonds and see the
trickster bound into eternal suffering.  Perhaps I’d find a way to make him my
slave and let him lick my boots after a good wallow through yeti droppings.  Information
about drugs and blood slaves wasn’t enough; I required something truly damning.

Arms hanging at my sides, I moved back to my post and sagged
against the bar.  Caught up in my own self pity, I nearly missed the appearance
of a woman who seemed to manifest on the stool in front of me.  I reached for
one of the pressed leaves we used for coasters and slid it onto the bar.

“What can I get you?” I asked.

I kept my eyes averted, studiously examining my cuticles. 
I’d found that it was easier to serve drinks when I didn’t pay too much
attention to the customers.  You never know who might stroll through our
doors.  I would die of shame if one of my fellow highborn recognized me here in
my servitude.

I waited for the woman’s reply, but there was no answer.  With
a heavy sigh I glanced up to see the face that lay in shadow beneath the hood
of a cloak of deep blue like the night sky.  The cloak was beautiful, but the
woman embraced within its folds was more remarkable still.

Ebony eyes stared from a face of pale, crystalline skin with
lips the color of bruised inkberries.  I knew that a kiss from those lips was just
as poisonous as the bitter fruit they resembled.

“My l-l-l,” I stuttered.

My liege
, I’d meant to say, but the words were frozen
on my tongue—literally.  The woman seated before me was none other than Queen
Mab, ruler of the Unseelie court.  My queen had been absent these past hundred
years and now here she was in Club Nexus, and she’d frozen my lips shut tight.

“Hush, my child,” Mab said.  “I am not yet ready for my
whereabouts to become common knowledge.  Our people have grown weak in my
absence and I require your services to restore our court to its former glory. 
Will you assist your queen?”

I nodded, icy tears falling from my eyes to shatter on the
hard surface of the bar.

“Good,” she said.  “I do believe you will enjoy the task I now
set before you.  Puck, Oberon’s former lapdog, has been acquiring too much
power in this city.  Kill him quickly and quietly.  I am granting you your
freedom, Beryl.  Do not waste this gift.”

My heart swelled.  Freedom at last!  It was true that I’d
sought a long, painful torment for the trickster, but if the Queen of Air and
Darkness willed it, then I would kill Puck quickly.

“You will not remember our conversation, of course,” she
said.  “My presence here in the mortal realms must not yet be revealed.  But
you are bound by our bargain all the same.  Put down Oberon’s pet and gain your
freedom.”

I blinked and rubbed my eyes, wondering why they were misted
over and my cheeks were wet.  Had I fallen asleep on the job?  I glanced around
quickly, hoping Puck hadn’t noticed.  The last time I dozed off while working,
he’d held my hand over an open flame.  The bastard knew of my aversion to fire
and taunted me with it ceaselessly.  Thankfully, Puck was too busy with his
diversions to notice my lapse.  He was only now leaving the dance floor with a
curvaceous human on his arm.

I wiped absently at the counter in front of me, trying to
look busy as I studied the trickster’s new conquest.  She bore multiple tattoos
on her bare arms, but they didn’t look like brandings or other marks of fae
ownership.  Examining her face, I could see that she was wearing heavy makeup,
but her eyes were still bright and alert.  The human wasn’t on Ice, yet, but it
wouldn’t take Puck long if he wanted her dosed.  All it would take was a quick
sleight of hand while ordering her a drink and she’d be another slave to add to
his larder.

I could have warned her.  I’d done it more than once to
thwart Puck’s little games, but not tonight.  I didn’t care about the fate of
this weak human.  I had more important things to take care of, though I wasn’t
at all sure what those things were.  For a moment, the room seemed to tilt on
its axis and cool air whispered along my skin.  I shook my head and continued
wiping at the counter.

My hand hit a hard object and I looked down to see an ornate
dagger in front of me.  That was odd.  I didn’t remember any customers sitting
here who may have left this behind.  My eyes slid from the weapon to Puck
striding this way.  I grinned wide, seeing the chance I’d been looking for.  I’d
always dreamed of a long, slow revenge, but at the moment the thought of
killing the trickster quickly and cleanly filled me with joy.  Yes, he needed
to be put down.  Tonight.

As Puck walked past, I tossed my dishrag over the dagger and
pulled it across the bar.  Once he was gone, I slipped the blade into the
pocket of my apron, the ice cold handle a comfort in my sweating hand.  The
weapon’s sudden appearance must be a sign.  I gripped the dagger tightly and
slid into a nearby shadow.

My captor had gone through the door to the left of the bar
and into the back storerooms.  I knew what he did down below in the old wine
cellars, and had learned to keep my distance from his special customers and
their depravity.

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