shadows of salem 01 - shadow born (5 page)

BOOK: shadows of salem 01 - shadow born
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But how to bypass the line? At least as a detective I got to wear plain clothes. They wouldn’t be able to tell I was a cop. Slacks and a black blazer didn’t exactly scream detective to most people. But being a nobody wasn’t going to get me inside, either.

A car door slammed nearby, and I turned toward the sound to see a man in a steel suit walking away from a red Lamborghini. I figured a guy like him wasn’t going to be waiting in line, so I turned toward him, then allowed my wrist to brush against his platinum cufflink.

I got a flash of the outside of a hotel called
The White Stag
, and then another one of a girl beneath him, her cheeks flushed and her blonde hair spread across the snowy white sheets as she moved with him.

“Oh, Vance,” she moaned, arching her back. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

Money left on the dresser had me thinking she wasn’t the first woman he’d brought to that hotel, and that she likely wouldn’t be the last.

Perfect.

The vision broke, and I snagged his wrist before he could get away. “Hey, Vance,” I purred, giving him my best seductive smile. “Remember me? From the White Stag?”

His eyebrows furrowed together as he came to a halt. After a long pause and an uneasy expression, he offered, “Natasha?”

“I knew you would remember me.” My smile widened as I curled my hand around his arm and pressed myself against him. Yeah, so I didn’t exactly look like I was dressed for the club, but that wasn’t going to stop me. “I’m here to meet a friend, but I got here late and I don’t want to make her wait an hour while I stand in this stupid line. Do you think you could be a doll and help me out?” I reached up and pressed my lips against his cheek.

“For you, anything.” His lips curled into a smile, but though the words oozed charm, they were perfunctory—something he said to all the girls, I’d bet.

Oh, well, I’d take it. I allowed him to lead me to the doors, and the way the Mountain Man moved aside for us without hesitation confirmed my suspicion that Vance, whoever he was, was a regular.

“Thanks, doll.” I disentangled myself from Vance, then disappeared into the crowd before he could say anything more. I might have been one in a long line of girls, but the hunger I’d glimpsed in his eyes told me he was willing to take me for a second ride.

Not that there had ever been a first, or that there ever would be, but he didn’t need to know that.

Once I was sure I’d lost Vance, I leaned up against a wall and looked around. The club was huge—a two-story affair with posh furniture, crystal chandeliers, and a dance floor packed with clubbers bumping and grinding to the music. The walls were mirrored, and my eyes narrowed as I noticed quite a few pale-skinned patrons who weren’t showing up in the reflections.

Vampires
.

My heart skipped a beat, and I was suddenly very happy to feel the weight of my vampire gun pressing against my side. But as I continued scanning the room, I noticed the vamps weren’t the only odd things here. At first glance, everyone
seemed
human, but as I looked closer, I noticed some of these people were very
off.

A woman wearing long evening dress with a high slit in the skirt lounged on an overstuffed couch with a long-haired man. Though the pair looked normal-enough, when I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye, I swore they had scaly golden skin.

Across the room from where I stood, a wiry man dressed in suspenders, slacks, and a tank top sipped from a wine glass as he glanced at me from beneath his fedora, and I had to fight against the urge to flinch as I met his neon-green, vertically pupiled eyes.

And then there was the matter of the trio of slender, diminutive girls that looked barely old enough to be legal, giggling and gliding through the room. Their sparkly dresses would have been enough to catch attention on their own, but every time they passed beneath the chandeliers, I caught glimpses of gossamer wings streaming from their delicate shoulder blades.

Excitement burst through my veins as I realized that I’d stumbled upon the exact place I’d set out for.
The supernatural pulse of Salem
. And now that I was here, I was seeing
way
more otherworldly stuff than my Uncle Oscar had ever let on existed back in Chicago. I always suspected there were more than just vampires out in the world
somewhere
, but this was my first visual confirmation, and I was eager to see more.

Down girl.

I schooled my expression into one of boredom. If I started looking around the place like a kid in the candy store, people would get suspicious. After all, I’d come in here with a regular, so they probably assumed I was either a supernatural or genned in with the community. If they discovered otherwise, I was going to be tossed out on my ass faster than I could say “Mountain Man.”

I ordered a dirty martini from the bar, then casually sipped at it while running my free hand across the bar top, railings, backs of couches, and any other surfaces I could touch without looking suspicious.

Normally I would have caught a flash of something, but the objects in this place were being particularly stubborn, the smooth, glassy surfaces telling me nothing. I’d come across this phenomenon before—the place had been “swept,” the memories cleared from the surfaces so that I couldn’t use my talent against them.

I’d always figured that sweeping was some kind of vampire talent, but considering the number of other supernaturals here, I wasn’t so sure now. Just how did it work, anyway? I’d thought that sweeping meant the memories were literally being swept away from the surface, but with the number of patrons frequenting this space, I was pretty sure that was impossible. Maybe the furniture was spelled to keep memories from imprinting on it, which was why I wasn’t getting any flashes. Or maybe there was something else about this that I just didn’t understand.

I snorted at that. There was a
lot
about the supernatural world that I didn’t understand, which was something I planned to remedy as quickly as possible. I might not be able to use my talent on the club itself, but I was reasonably sure it would still work on the people. And the thing about clubs was that you could brush against numerous bodies and no one would ever know you were secretly looking into their pasts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of dark blond hair—Vox, heading up the wraparound staircase that led to the mezzanine.

I followed, giving him a little bit of a lead so that he didn’t notice me. I suppose I could have just grabbed him, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in a place like this. Besides, I was curious to see where he was headed.

The mezzanine was a kind of lounge-slash-gaming area, with several pool tables set up as well as two dart boards, all of which were in full use. Green lamps suspended from the ceiling shed soft light over round dark wooden tables, and at these sat patrons, sipping drinks and talking quietly.

I spotted Vance in a corner, his head bent low as he discussed something with a woman in a silver dress whose skin turned the color and texture of bark when I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.

Despite the pool tables and dart boards, I had a feeling this section of the club was where supernaturals came to talk business. But as much as I wanted to strain my ears and listen to their conversations, I couldn’t, because Vox was continuing down a shadowed corridor.

Casting one last glance at the tables, I hurried after Vox. The dance music receded as I headed deeper into the dark hall with velvet tufted walls the color of wine. The whole place was a bit much, but I guess it was standard for a fancy club.

Vox had already disappeared, presumably through one of the many brass doors lining the walls. Rather than try each one, I headed for the one that was cracked open and spilling soft light into the hall that was otherwise only illuminated by the faintly lit wall sconces.

“I see,” a deep, Scottish voice said as I peered in through the crack.

I could make out the silhouette of Vox bowing before a man seated behind a grand mahogany desk. The man wore a dark suit with a blood-red tie, and judging by the breadth of his shoulders, I didn’t think he was small. Thick, inky hair framed his face, and while the angle and the lack of light made it hard to get more specific details, I got the impression of aristocratic and handsome features.

“And so you’ve come to beg another boon of me?” the man continued.

“Please, Lord Tremaine.” Vox seemed to bow even lower. A visible tremor went through his spine, something I found interesting because he didn’t seem like the type of man to cower. Whoever this “Lord Tremaine” was, he was powerful. “It’s my only hope.”

I leaned in a little closer, pushing the crack infinitesimally wider so that I could try to hear more. But just as Tremaine opened his mouth to speak again, a vice-like grip clamped around my arm and yanked me away.

“Hey!” I yelped as my assailant swung me around. I reached for my badge instinctively, then swallowed hard at the sight of another Mountain Man. This one had white hair cropped close to his skull and eerie eyes the color of winter frost. There was something ancient and alien in those eyes that sent a shiver crawling up my spine.

“We don’t take kindly to eavesdroppers,” the Mountain Man growled as he spun me around. He secured my wrists behind my back with a zip-tie, then grabbed them with one hand while clamping down on my shoulder with his other hand.

“Let me go!” I stomped on his foot, hoping to dislodge his grip. Unfortunately, my attack was about as effective as, well, stomping on a mountain, and only resulted in a bolt of pain shooting up my ankle.

“Not a chance. You’re coming with me, and if you even
think
about screaming, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the selkies.”

CHAPTER 5

I
kept my mouth shut and gritted my teeth as the security guard perp-walked me to the end of the hall as if
I
was the fucking criminal. The audacity of it set my teeth on edge, but even if I didn’t believe his threat to cut out my tongue, I doubted that saying anything would do any good in a place like this. In fact, it might just draw a couple of vampires up here, and that was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

As we came to a stop, the guard released my shoulder, then used his free hand to wrench open a door to my left. He confiscated my glock, then shoved me unceremoniously into the room and slammed the door behind me.

I twisted to the side, saving myself from the oncoming face-plant and smashing my shoulder into the cement floor instead. Pain radiated through my body, and I grunted, shoving myself up onto my knees just as the door bolt slid home with a loud click.

Fuck
.

I glanced around, trying to determine if there was any means of escape, or at least a weapon I could use to free my wrists or defend myself. But the room was completely empty and devoid of windows. All I had was a lone caged lightbulb flickering overhead. I was in a concrete cage, and with my hands tied behind my back, I couldn’t even reach for my cellphone to call for help or grab for the vampire gun pressing unhelpfully up against my rib cage.

My heartbeat ratcheted up, and I had to take deep breaths to calm myself.
Think, Brooke, think.
I had to keep my mind occupied, or I was going to lose it in here. What new information could I glean from my latest predicament?

The empty room was one thing, I mused, glancing around the space. Aside from the overhead light, there wasn’t a single thing in the space. And from my experience, businesses rarely had empty rooms in their buildings. A good business used every inch of available space as efficiently as possible, so if this room was being kept empty, it was for a reason.

With the thick cement walls and reinforced door, I was beginning to suspect that
this
was exactly that reason: a holding cell for people like me who they caught snooping around where they shouldn’t be.

What the hell kind of club needs a holding cell, though? Then again, this kind of club catered to a unique clientele. I could all too easily see security needing a place to temporarily hold a supernatural that got too out of control or broke the club rules in some way. I mean, the logical thing to do would be to toss them out on their asses, but maybe there were circumstances where that would be unwise.

Speaking of supernaturals, the guard had threatened to feed my tongue to a selkie. Did that mean selkies were a thing, or was that some kind of joke? After what I’d seen tonight, it wouldn’t surprise me if selkies did exist.

I was dying to know what kinds of supernaturals
did
exist. I’d tried to learn when I was younger. As a teen, I’d picked up a dusty tome in a thrift store once about mythical beasts and took it home to study, but Uncle Oscar burned it the second he caught wind of it. Of course, I’d gotten to glimpse a couple of the pages inside first, and they spoke of shapeshifters and witches and elementals and all sorts of things—but that was just a book.

Right?

And nothing in that book that I’d gotten around to reading had spoken of large men with limbs as hard as rock. What kind of supernatural were the security guards here? If World of Warcraft could be considered a source for supernatural creatures, their hulking forms and eerie eyes would indicate they were giants or orcs or trolls.

But that was video game, and this was the world I lived in. I needed a way to separate fantasy from reality. A way to know just as much as the creatures who frequented this club knew. Somehow, I had a feeling I couldn’t just up and ask the security guards when they came back.

If they came back…

Focus, Brooke. You’re trying not to die.

Right. The reason I was in this whole mess in the first place was because they’d caught me snooping around. Of course they weren’t going to take kindly to my questions. If I wanted answers, I was going to have to survive this place.

There was a jangle of keys, and I turned my head back to the door just in time to see it open. My heart stopped as Tremaine stepped into the room, along with the guard who’d manhandled me earlier as well as a second one. The two hulking men flanked him, and though they were a good foot taller, there was something about the aura radiating off Tremaine’s tall, muscular frame that told me he was the most dangerous of the three.

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