Page 13 of Blood & Bones

“What’s the address?” I asked.

“Level 2, and it should be directly below us. He said it was near the front elevator bay,” Camille said.

The elevators had been a recent addition, mostly for accessibility, but it only made sense, especially if there needed to be a quick evacuation. The stairwells weren’t exactly the easiest to find and navigate.

The doors opened and we found ourselves right in front of the Nightmare. People were threading in and out of the doors, and there were two burly vampires acting as bouncers. We headed toward the back of the line—which, by now, wasn’t too long—and settled in to wait.

The club itself was sedately decorated, at least from the outside. The logo on the sign showed a rather horrendous looking horse, with the word “Nightmare” coming out of its mouth. The horse was in black and white, the name of the club in a red outlined with a thin marking of gold and then black, against the white background.

There were no windows opening into the hallway, but instead, a display of potted plants that had to be fake. Nothing could grow down here without sunlamps except moss and mildew, and the Underground was too well-kept for that to happen. At least in all the places we had seen so far.

As we approached the bouncers, they looked us over and motioned for us to enter. Apparently, we looked old enough because they didn’t even card us. I thought about complaining to the city, but then again, the bouncers would be able to tell I was a vamp, given they could sense the heartbeats of the living. And Camille and Delilah looked around twenty-five or so in human years, though we were all far older.

We entered the club and the sounds of techno engulfed us. The club itself was a whirl of red, black, and white, with a checkerboard dance floor and rotating spotlights that bathed the dancers in crimson. The bar was to our left, a long, sleek polished black counter, with matching barstools. Around the edges of the dance floor, booths offered privacy, and to the right, a few tables gave customers the chance to watch the dancing front and center.

“Where do you want to sit?” I asked.

Camille motioned to the nearest free table. “Get our drinks. I’ll grab the table!” She had to shout to be heard.

As she maneuvered Delilah to the table, I headed for the bar. The woman behind the counter gave me the once-over and grinned a fangy-smile. She was gorgeous, tall with long legs and tight abs. Apparently, she’d been turned at the peak of her looks. Her eyes were still a frosty green, so she hadn’t been a vampire too long.

“What’ll it be?” she asked, slapping the bar rag across her shoulder.

“Bottle of blood, a Shirley Temple, and a Tequila Sunrise.” Delilah didn’t drink much. Neither did Camille, but she handled her liquor a lot better than Kitten. “Also, an order of fried calamari, and some nachos.” Just because I couldn’t eat, didn’t mean that I expected Camille and Delilah to forego food when we were out together.

“The waitress will bring them over to your table when they’re ready,” the vamp said.

“Thanks, Keri,” I said, glancing at her nametag before I headed back to the table.

We weren’t there more than five minutes when some shifter came up to ask Camille to dance. He was tall and dressed in black leather, with long blonde hair. She gracefully accepted and headed to the dance floor. Even though a little extra padding wasn’t socially considered beautiful over here, Camille had glamour that wouldn’t quit.

By the time the dance was finished, our drinks and food had come. Camille thanked the man she had danced with and politely declined a second dance, returning to the table. As she sat down and picked up her drink, he frowned, then wandered off.

“Have fun?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s got looks, but he’s too handsy. And I’m just…” She trailed off.

I knew she was thinking about Trillian. He was her bonded love, but they’d been separated for several reasons—Father being the primary. He hated the Svartan, and had done his best to drive a wedge between the two. As sexual as Camille was, she hadn’t been able to put her heart into another relationship for a while now.

“Well, there’s no harm in dancing,” Delilah said. “I think I’ll take a turn on the floor.” She loved to dance, though she preferred dancing alone. Delilah was still very young, in terms of her personality—she wasn’t that interested in men, and she never expressed an interest in dating.

As she headed for the floor, I turned to Camille. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, sipping on her drink.

“Will our sister ever decide to get married and have a family? Or even just date?”

Camille thought about my question. “You know, I’m not sure. Kitten’s never really talked about guys—and I don’t think she’s interested in women, either. She and I don’t talk much about sex. I think it makes her uncomfortable, though I’m not sure.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Maybe she just isn’t interested.” I shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. She’ll be whoever she’s meant to be.” I glanced around the room. There were a lot of humans around, a few vamps, and several shifters. The club was more for thrill-seeker wannabes than actual vamps.

Camille was eating the calamari when a young man stopped by our table. He couldn’t have been more than around twenty, and he was obviously goth. He was pale as shit, wearing a black pair of jeans, a black velvet tunic, and enough jewelry to weigh down a pack mule. At least he’d steered clear of silver.

“Excuse me?” The note in his voice was way-too eager beaver.

“Yes?” Camille asked, but his eyes were fastened on me.

“Are you a vampire?”