Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) (22 page)

“Ned. I’ve seen the door you’re talking about. It’s really locked-up. I mean big time.”

Ned backed away from speaking directly into Ian’s ear to face him. He then flashed Ian a grin as he replied, “You let me worry about that. Now why don’t you and your date go back to your table and try and look like you’re having a good time for a while. Alisha and I are gonna do a bit of snooping around here in the club, especially around the shitters.”

Ian wondered if Ned and the FBI agent had come up with a similar theory regarding the restrooms. Ian figured the way Ned said they were going to check them out, more likely than not, that they had. Ian looked over at Zoey, took her hand, and they both headed back to their table.

CHAPTER 21

All Hallows Eve (III)

The club was buzzing even more than before with all kinds of bizarre sights, some of which underscored Ian’s naiveté regarding nightclubs of this nature.

All around him were seated and standing gothically-dressed, pseudo-vampiric, heavily partying role-players. But some, a scarce few to Ian’s closely observant eyes, were perhaps … just perhaps … something else.

By this time, both Ian and Zoey had had a few Jack-n-Cokes so as not to appear to be doing anything other than partying and having a good time. With that, there were a few times that Ian thought his eyes might be playing alcohol-related tricks on him. Very occasionally, and totally randomly, he thought he’d seen something to the effect of an unnaturally quick movement by one or another of the more sinister-looking vampiric types who were mainly seated in private booths being utilized for even more seedy activities than the near club-wide illegal drug consumption and overt near-full-on copulations occurring on top of tables, against walls, and up against pillars. Activities such as he’d seen previously in the restroom had now migrated into the main rooms of the club.

Ian knew that the place could be shut down just for this alone. But that wasn’t why they were here. Ian knew he had to keep his eyes and mind on the much larger picture: serial killers and the horrifying likelihood of its intended result – human blood, and organ trafficking.

A number of minutes had passed since Zoey had excused herself to go to the lady’s room both for natural reasons, as well as to do a bit of restroom sleuthing. She’d been gone now a bit longer than Ian was comfortable with. He was getting ready to head over towards the restrooms when he felt a presence looming just behind him. Ian abruptly turned nearly ninety degrees, almost causing his chair to tip over. He recovered his balance and stabilized himself just in time to see whom he knew in an instant by description to be the man himself. Salizzar.

Salizzar was dressed in a long, black leather coat with a turned-up collar. Visible beneath his unfastened coat was a white satin or silk shirt that had large, flowing ruffles, what you’d expect to see worn in a movie depicting a man of the aristocracy from the post-renaissance era.

Salizzar also sported a wide, black leather belt with a large, golden buckle. It was fashioned to look like the head of a dragon with fiery, ruby-colored eyes. Knowing at least a bit about some of the man’s impressive wealth, Ian surmised that it was likely the buckle was solid gold and just as likely that the dragon’s eyes were actual rubies.

Salizzar had long, jet-black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. He wore ruby solitaire stud earrings in both earlobes. Ian noticed immediately that his eyes, which peered over the top of small, perfectly round, golden-framed blood-red lens glasses, matched perfectly the rest of his attire. His eyes appeared in the dimly-lit room to be as jet-black as his hair.

After what seemed to Ian to have been a near-eternal uncomfortable moment but in actuality was no more than seconds, the man spoke like so many of the others who worked for him, in a very thick Eastern European accent.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Salizzar. Welcome to my modest club.”

Ian cleared his throat. “Um, good … Nice to meet you. I’m … My name’s Ian. Ian McBride.” Ian was nervous to say the least and wondered if he’d delivered his alias in a believable fashion.

Salizzar grinned impishly, “Yes. Well, Ian … Or would you prefer Mister McBride? May I join you? In the absence of your lady friend, who must be powdering her nose, so to speak.”

Ian nodded as he motioned with his right hand for Salizzar to take a seat.

Salizzar sat down in the only other chair at the small table, the one that Zoey had occupied an uncomfortably increasing number of minutes before.

“Well then, Ian, how do you like my nightclub? Are you and your … companion … enjoying yourselves this fine All Hallows Eve?”

Ian thought to himself,
Companion. Interesting word choice. He’s careful. A mark of intelligence and perhaps that of someone who has something to hide!

He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, your club is quite nice. Not my normal cup of tea, mind you, though you probably already gathered that by my poor attempt at trying a little too hard to look the part. But ... it is Halloween ... and when in Rome. Anyway, we thought this might be fun.”

Salizzar smiled as he spoke. “Yes, well, it’s been said, Ian … McDermott … that a half truth is no more than a whole lie. You’ve in fact visited my place before, though admittedly not on this floor. Yet once again, you have entered my place freely of your own will.”

At hearing Salizzar speak those words, Ian thought his heart was going to pound itself right out of his chest. Sweat began gathering in heavy beads across his forehead. His mind raced. He felt faint at the total realization,
He knows who I am. What was that he said? I’ve entered of my own free will! Clayton said something like that. That … that means something …? Christ, I can’t remember.

In one deft motion,
Salizzar rose up from the table. “Well Ian, enjoy yourself. Oh, and it seems we have a mutual friend. One who poses as a writer of what I would consider to be comedy. Though unfortunately severely misguided, our mutual friend is not without influence. Therefore, I’m pleased to tell you that your money is no good here. That is ... for the rest of the evening. From this point forward your drinks or anything you wish, and also for your friends as well … everything is on the house. But I grant you this night my hospitality and guarantee you and your friends’ personal safety and protection from the crescendo of this evening’s festivities ... under one provisional condition. In order for me to maintain my good humor, speaking in the local vernacular, I strongly suggest you re-plot your present laid-in course. I have as yet no reason to cause harm to Officer Ned Parker and the lovely FBI Special Agent Alisha Simmons nor yourself or your lady friend Zoey Collins. If you wisely heed my warning and cease at once all further efforts that might cause me, albeit only momentarily, any further consternation., I shall amply reward you. I am known to be very generous ... to my friends. But, if you feel you must continue hunting matters you cannot possibly fully fathom, well ... might I suggest you consider pursuing a not so formidable prey, lest you become preyed upon. Like, say, chasing the ‘Green Fairy.’ Absinthe is our house specialty libation. I have it flown in weekly from Prague.
I shall have a fountain of it sent to your table immediately. Along, of course, with all of the necessary accoutrements to fully enjoy it. For your sake, Mister McDermott, and that of your companions both bipedal and quadruped – hopefully, we shall not meet again under unsavory circumstance.” Salizzar then turned and rapidly headed in the direction of the corridor that led past the restrooms and on into the band room.

Ian shuddered at the thought that Salizzar knew of them all, even Scout. He was very apparently as brilliant as he was, in a word, evil. Ian knew there was no mistaking the intent or extent regarding the threat he’d just been given as he thought,
I’ve got to get Zoey, and warn Ned and Alisha. Without more backup, we’ve gotta get the hell out of here.

Just then, the tall Lurch-like waiter brought to Ian’s table a transparent glass container filled with a light green elixir. The glass container had a transparent plastic ice tube inside it; obviously devised to keep the beverage contained within cold without becoming watered down.

Ian stared for a few long moments at the elixir-filled dispenser. His mind was racing, and he desperately tried to regain some composure. It was then at the pinnacle of his confusion and fear that two things happened simultaneously. Zoey came back to the table, and for that he was eternally thankful, and his phone began vibrating once again.

Ian quickly snatched it up. He had received another text from Ned.

Ian. Change of plans. I decided to check out the basement myself. Is Alisha with you guys? She said she was going to join you after first going to the can.

Zoey sat down and stared at the absinthe-filled container and the two fancy crystal glasses that had slotted silver spoons balanced on top of them. There was also a small China saucer that held several sugar cubes. She laughed as she declared, “Wow, you must be planning on doing some serious partying.”

Ian quickly texted Ned back.
How long ago was that?

About 30 minutes ago. Why?

Ian looked up at Zoey. She could tell instantly that something was wrong.

Ian again fired a text back to Ned.
I haven’t seen her since we talked at the bar. I got visited by Salizzar. He knows everything. I’d get out of there now.

Ian waited for a number of minutes, but there were no more texts from Ned. Ian even tried calling Ned, but it just went to voice mail. Ian opted not to leave a message.

Zoey couldn’t take being in the dark regarding what might be happening any longer. “What’s going on? And what’s with this thing?” She pointed at the dispenser.

Ian took a deep breath before speaking. He no longer cared much if anyone heard him or not, so he exclaimed loud enough for Zoey to hear him without having her lean in towards him.

“It’s all gone to shit! We’ve been made! That FBI agent’s missing. And Ned, last I heard he’s in the basement. But now he’s not responding, which pretty much means he’s either hiding or has been caught or …”

Zoey suddenly got wide-eyed. She placed her right hand over her mouth as she took a large gasp of air. Then she removed her hand from her mouth and loudly exclaimed, “Oh my God! What are we gonna do?” Nobody in the room seemed to take any notice of Ian and Zoey whatsoever. It was then that Ian spotted their waitress from the Soggy Dog Saloon, Madison. She was with two other young women. Ian nearly jumped up out of his seat. He made his way over to where they were all standing, just leaning against a wall.

Madison recognized him immediately. “Oh, hey. How’re ya doing? These are my friends, Tina and Emily. Where’s your friend?”

Ian couldn’t help sounding desperate as he nearly shouted, “Listen, Madison. You and your friends gotta get out of here. Something very bad’s about to happen.”

Madison frowned and took a half step away from Ian. “What …? What-a ya mean something bad’s gonna …?” Madison’s girlfriends were both looking around at various young men.

Ian decided that a lie might be the best way to go given the circumstances. “Okay, listen. The lady I’m with and me, we’re undercover cops. We’ve called in for a drug raid on the place. In less than five minutes this place is going to be crawling with cops arresting pretty much anyone and everyone they can get their hands on, understand?”

“Oh my God! Yes. Yeah, I understand. I do. I totally … holy crap!” Madison grabbed the arms of her girlfriends, then quickly told them an abridged version of what Ian had just told her. They all believed the story. Madison turned to Ian and thanked him, then the three young women made a beeline for the elevator.

Zoey left the table and quickly joined up with Ian. She had seen enough to figure out that Ian had said something to warn Madison.

Ian said urgently, “All right. We’ve got to get the hell out of here. I’m telling you, something hugely bad is about to happen. My gut tells me just before midnight. Anyway, there’s nothing more for us here. Our cover’s blown, and we are in serious danger.”

Zoey fired back, “What makes you think … Why are we in so much danger? I mean in such a public place?”

Ian grabbed both of Zoey’s hands and looked her in the eyes. The extreme grimace in his brow and tightlipped facial expression left no doubt in Zoey’s mind that Ian was deadly serious.

Ian said, “It’s been my experience that when an enemy tells you that you’ve nothing to fear from them if you behave a certain way, you better beware. Now, let’s get out of here and see if we can find Ned before …”

Ian held Zoey’s left hand within his right and began nearly pushing people out of their way as they hurried for the elevator. Once inside, Ian pressed the button for level one. They were alone in the elevator. The nightclub was packed. Apparently, they weren’t letting anymore people up into the club, and nobody was leaving so early.

“Zoey, you didn’t drink from that dispenser at our table or suck on any of those sugar cubes or anything like that, did you?” Ian asked with noticeably elevated stress.

Ian saw the panic suddenly come over Zoey’s face. “Yes! Yeah, I drank some of it. Absinthe, right? And I poured the cold water over a sugar cube in a spoon, just like I’ve heard you’re supposed to. Oh my God. You don’t think it wasn’t poisoned or drugged, do you? I mean, was it?”

Ian couldn’t hide his concern about that very possibility. But he knew the possibility existed with each drink they’d consumed.

“No. No. You’re fine. Let’s go … No wait. You go straight to the car.” Ian handed Zoey the car keys. “Bring the car as close as you can to the south side of the parking lot. Try to find a spot that has a line of sight to that side door. If you can’t find a parking spot, I don’t care. Park the car any way you can, but again, position the car so you can see that door. This is important. Make sure the car’s locked, but keep it running. We may need to make a quick run for it. That side door … That’s where I’m gonna try and go inside to find Ned. My guess is the locks have already been picked open.”