Chapter 8
"What's this guy's name again?" I asked Finn.
"What?" Finn said, cupping his hand over his ear to try to hear me better over the rocking music. Something he'd done three times in as many minutes whenever I'd tried to talk to him.
I sighed. Another night, another job, another chance to hang out at Northern Aggression.
That's where Finn and I were now, just before midnight, since Bria was meeting her source here. Northern Aggression was the most decadent nightclub in Ashland, a hedonistic den of sin where you could get anything you wanted if you had enough cash, plastic, or other valuable commodity to pay for the delights that waited inside. Sex, drugs, blood, smokes, alcohol. All that and more was available on the nightclub's pleasure-filled menu.
As its name suggested, Northern Aggression was located in Northtown, cozied in among the area's cookie-cutter McMansions and sprawling estates. The city's rich, corporate yuppies had to have somewhere to go after quitting time, and the club serviced all their needs. At Northern Aggression, you could do everything from have a casual drink with the girls to get your rocks off with whichever waiter-or three-caught your eye.
In keeping with the polite veneer that Northtown was so famous for, the outside of the club was surprisingly tame, looking more like a warehouse than anything else. The only thing that suggested there might be something of interest inside was the rune that hung over the entrance-a heart with an arrow through it. Every night, the sign burned first red, then yellow, then orange, inviting folks to come inside and get their freak on.
Once you stepped through the door, the tame, featureless veneer vanished. Crushed red velvet drapes covered the nightclub's walls, while a bamboo floor cushioned the feet of the many dancers. A bar made out of a single long sheet of elemental Ice ran down one wall, the suns and stars carved into the frosty surface glittering underneath the swirling lights. The runes were the symbols for life and joy, respectively, both of which folks in here seemed to have an abundance of tonight. Even if it all was just an alcohol-, smoke-, and sex-filled high.
As if all that wasn't enough to ambush, assault, and overload the senses, the waitstaff took care of the rest. Impossibly buff, beautiful men and women roamed through the crowd, serving up drinks and themselves to interested parties. Most of them were vampires, and all of them were hookers, as denoted by the necklaces they wore, each one with the heart-and-arrow rune of the nightclub dangling off the end of it.
I'd been in the club countless times, but it never failed to dazzle me with its sheer, unapologetic opulence.
That Bria's source had chosen Northern Aggression for the location of their meeting didn't surprise me. Lots of shady deals went down inside the club's private VIP rooms or the ones upstairs that could be rented out for as quick or as long as you liked. From the way my sister had described her source and the mysterious info that he wanted to give her, I doubted that anything tonight would be on the up-and-up.
I picked up my glass of gin and took a swallow. The cold liquor burned its way down my throat before turning into a pleasant heat in the pit of my stomach.
"What?" Finn asked again.
Next to him, Roslyn Phillips nodded her head in understanding. The vampire had no problem hearing me since enhanced senses were one of the many benefits that came along with drinking blood. Normal human blood was enough to give any vamp excellent eyesight and hearing, while those who drank from giants and dwarves received the great strength of those two races. Vampires could even absorb Air, Fire, and other forms of magic if they had access to an elemental's blood. Besides, this was Roslyn's gin joint, her nightclub. She'd had years to grow accustomed to the noise level.
She leaned forward and put her mouth close to his ear. "Gin wants to know the name of Bria's source."
Finn's face cleared, and he held up his martini glass. "After I finish my drink."
I gave him a sour look and sat back in my side of the booth that we were parked in. Instead of pressing the issue, I contented myself with another swig of gin. From past experience, I knew that absolutely nothing could convince Finn to do something before he was good and ready. The man was stubbornly implacable that way.
Across from me, an amused smile lifted Roslyn's lips. She'd been around Finn long enough to appreciate and sympathize with my dilemma, especially since the two of them had been friends with benefits for years, before she'd gotten serious with Xavier a few months ago.
If Bria was beautiful, then Roslyn Phillips was simply extraordinary. Everything about her was exceptional, from the creamy smoothness of her toffee-colored skin to the bright, matching color of her eyes to the way the cut of her sleek black hair framed her stunning features. Her body was just perfection itself, with toned muscles and svelte proportions that would put any supermodel to shame. Tonight, the vamp wore a tight, fitted, scarlet pantsuit that outlined her figure in a way that was somehow sexier than the skimpiest lingerie could be. Lots of hungry eyes strayed in Roslyn's direction, but she was one of the few things not on the club's menu.
Like so many vampires in Ashland, Roslyn had spent a good part of her life hooking on the Southtown streets before she'd saved enough money to become an uptown girl and start Northern Aggression. Vampires pretty much had the corner on the skin trade in Ashland. All vamps needed blood to live, of course, just the way that humans needed food and vitamins. But for some of them, having sex was just as good as downing a pint of O-positive and gave them a great, healthy high. Besides, vamps could live a long time, and prostitution was the world's oldest profession. It was always nice to have a skill to fall back on, especially given these tough economic times.
I finished my drink, pushed the glass aside, and looked at Bria.
My sister sat at the end of the Ice bar, nursing a mojito. She wore the same clothes that she'd had on earlier, although she'd tucked her detective's badge and her gun into her coat pocket. Bria's outfit was chaste compared to the skimpy clothes that the women on the dance floor sported, her demeanor nunlike when contrasted with those who openly made out with or even f**ked their paramours in and under the club's booths and tables. But my sister still got her share of attention. Every other minute, some guy would sidle up and offer to buy her a drink, but Bria always shook her head and declined.
I wasn't the only one who noticed Bria's popularity. Finn stared at my sister as well, his mouth tightening as a handsome man wearing a three-piece suit tried to buy her another mojito. Finn grumbled something under his breath.
I hid a grin and continued scanning the area around the bar. Finally, my eyes landed on the woman standing behind it. The Ice elemental responsible for making sure that the bar stayed in one piece for the night, given all the bodies pressed up against it and the accompanying heat that went with them. The elemental's eyes glowed a dim blue as she sent a trickle of her power into the bar. Even across the room, I could feel the cool caress of her magic. It made me want to reach for my own Ice magic-and think about the last time I'd been here at Northern Aggression.