The outside of Northern Aggression might have been a faceless shell, but the inside had a distinct personality, even during the middle of the day. The few overhead lights that were on highlighted the heavy, crushed red velvet drapes that covered the walls. The floor was a wonderful springy bamboo that cushioned our feet, but our steps still echoed in the hollow, empty building.
We crossed the dance floor, and Xavier veered off to the right toward a long bar made entirely of Ice elemental.
The structure was almost a hundred feet long and more like an elaborate sculpture than a piece of furniture. Runes had been carved into the slick surface, mostly suns and stars, the symbols for life and joy.
Both of which could be found in abundance here late at night, as long as you had enough money to pay for the privileges. The bar, of course, had been created by the Ice elemental who worked as the club's bartender, and he'd used enough of his magic to make sure his creation wouldn't melt before his shift started tonight. I could feel the cool caress of power halfway across the club. My own Ice magic, weak and sluggish though it was, stirred in response.
Xavier put his liquor boxes on the bar and gestured for Finn and me to go on without him. "I've got to get these unloaded. Roslyn's waiting for you guys in her office. You know the way, Finn."
Finn straightened his tie. "Indeed I do."
He headed for the back of the nightclub and pulled open a door discreetly set into the crushed velvet that covered the wall. It opened up into a small hallway that ran in either direction before branching off at both ends. Finn turned left, and we zigzagged through a series of hallways before he stopped at a closed door. Finn knocked on it.
"Come in," a muffled voice said.
Finn opened the door, and we stepped inside an office.
Roslyn Phillips sat behind a wide, massive desk that would have made even Xavier look svelte in comparison.
A variety of pink and white papers lay scattered on the surface in front of her, along with what looked like an old-fashioned ledger book. A computer drowsed at her elbow, while a red light blinked on her phone. It was heart-shaped, with what looked like an arrow forming the headset. The phone matched the runelike shape of the clock on the back wall.
Finn held his hands out wide. A charming smile stretched across his face. "Roslyn, darling, so good of you to see me on such short notice."
An answering smile curved Roslyn's lips, showing her perfect, pearl-white fangs. "You too, Finn."
The vampire got up from behind her desk. To say that Roslyn Phillips was an attractive woman would be like saying Sherman only set a few fires in Atlanta - a complete understatement. Her eyes and perfect skin were a rich toffee, and her cropped, layered black hair highlighted the edge of her strong, square jaw. Silver glasses perched on the end of her button nose and made her eyes seem even larger and more expressive. The vampire had the kind of face that made you do a double-take to wonder if such symmetrical perfection was possible. On her, yes.
Since the nightclub wasn't open for business yet, Roslyn was dressed down in a pair of skinny jeans and a button-up white shirt. But the simple outfit still showed off her body to its full potential. Plump br**sts, lush hips, flat stomach, toned thighs, just the right amount of curve to her ass. Roslyn was like a female version of the David - only much more f**kable. The vamp was one of those who used sex to power up, along with blood, and she'd spent years, decades even, learning how to work what she'd been given to her full advantage.
Roslyn came around the desk, and Finn pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, once again playing the part of the Southern gentleman. The vampire drew back, and her dark eyes landed on me.
"And you brought Gin along with you," she said in a neutral tone.
"Hello, Roslyn," I replied. "Lovely to see you too."
Roslyn's smile turned into more of a grimace. She hadn't forgotten our last meeting at Fletcher Lane's funeral.
The one where I'd told the vampire I knew that she'd talked about Fletcher, Finn, and me, about what we did. That her well-intentioned whispers had led Alexis James to Fletcher and the Pork Pit and had gotten the old man killed.
"What do you need?" she asked in a quiet tone, still staring at me.
Need, not want. Roslyn Phillips seemed to be taking our conversation to heart. I'd agreed not to kill the vamp or tell Finn what she'd done - and told her point-blank she would have to give me and Finn anything we needed for as long as I saw fit. Since I wasn't a forgiving person, that was going to be a good long while. Starting right now.
"Ah, Roslyn, you wound me," Finn said. "What makes you think we need anything? Perhaps I just wanted to stop by and bask in your beauty."
The vampire snorted. "Cut the bullshit, Finn. If you'd come by yourself, I might have pretended to buy that tired old line. But you brought Gin with you. I doubt she's interested in my beauty."
"Sorry, Roslyn," I said. "I don't swing that way."
The vampire shrugged and turned her dark eyes to Finn. "So I ask the question again - what do you need?"
Finn opened his mouth, probably to sweet-talk Roslyn some more, but I cut in. We didn't have a lot of time to waste. We needed to get what we came for from Roslyn and get on with things.
"I need to get into Mab Monroe's party tonight," I said.
Roslyn's eyes widened for half a second before she masked her surprise. "You want to get into Mab's party?
Why?"
I stared at the vampire, debating what I should tell her. The less Roslyn knew, the better. But after our last conversation, I had no doubts the vampire would keep her mouth shut this time. She knew what I'd do to her if she didn't.
"I need to get close to someone."
Roslyn frowned with understanding. "Who?"
"Tobias Dawson."
The vampire blanched with disgust, but she didn't ask why I was interested in the dwarf. Hooking in Southtown for a few decades was a great way to dampen your curiosity. On the mean Southtown streets, you did things without asking the reasons or thinking too much about them afterward. Besides, Roslyn knew the why didn't really matter, since the only reason I ever got close to anyone like Dawson was to kill him.
Roslyn crossed her arms over her chest. Her foot turned sideways and tapped on the thick carpet. After a few moments of quiet introspection, comprehension flickered in her dark eyes. "You want to go in as one of my girls. That's why you're here."
I nodded.
Roslyn stared at me, and I let the coldness leech into my gray eyes. I respected the vampire for what she'd accomplished, for being smart and savvy enough to work her way up from a street hooker to a wealthy businesswoman.