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“No, but this is a werewolf reservation and our master vamp will know the wolves are more than a match for his speed and strength.”
“Which might not help if he’s also capable of decent magic.”
“We can’t do anything, Lizzie.” Belle’s voice was blunt. “Not tonight, and certainly not until we know more about who and what, exactly, we’re dealing with.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s just that giving evil free rein has never sat easily with me.”
And that was what had almost gotten both of us killed twelve years ago. I’d been both ill-equipped and totally underprepared to deal with the monster behind the ritual killings. As a result, I’d not only failed to save my sister, but I’d allowed a killer to get away.
“Maybe,” Belle said softly. “That trail of blood they found afterward seemed to suggest he would have bled out before he managed to get to any help.”
“And yet they never found a body.”
“Which is not surprising when it comes to those dealing with blood magic,” she said. “The darker forces they call upon thoroughly enjoy reclaiming their pound of flesh on the sorcerer’s death.”
“I’ve spent the last twelve years hoping that’s true.” Twelve years hoping that by my actions, I hadn’t given a killer the time to rest, recover, and plot his revenge.
“Enough remembering a past neither of us are capable of changing,” Belle said. “Let’s just concentrate on what we can do.”
I glanced at my watch and then said, “Speaking of changing, why don’t we both go upstairs and do just that?”
She blinked, and then smiled. “Are you thinking a little trip to Émigré is in order, by chance?”
“Indeed I am. We can kill two metaphorical birds with one stone by checking out the club and talking to the staff, all while having a nice night out.”
“I’m liking the way you think.” She drained her glass and then jumped up. “First dibs on the shower.”
I laughed as she raced for the stairs, and propped my feet up on her chair, watching the raindrops race each other down the windows as the darkness gathered force outside.
Once I heard the shower shut down, I grabbed her glass and rose, dumping both in the kitchen sink before I went up. It took us close to an hour to get ready, which brought us uncomfortably close to the countdown’s end time. And no matter how much I tried not to think about what might be happening in the morgue right now, I couldn’t seem to escape it.
The taxi we’d called to take us over to Émigré arrived right on the dot of eight thirty. I hesitated as Belle climbed into the cab’s back seat, my senses—both physical and other—attuned for anything untoward. The night was cold and wet, but there was no sense of danger within it, no sense that evil stirred.
Maybe the dream was wrong. Or maybe the countdown had meant something else.
Maybe.
I tried to ignore the growing sense of trepidation and jumped into the cab. It didn’t take long to get over to Richards Road, and once I’d paid the driver, I climbed out and studied the building.
“Whoa,” Belle said, as she stopped beside me. “I wasn’t expecting something so… bizarre.”
Bizarre was certainly a good word. While the main bulk of the building had been painted a flat black, there were weird, almost alien-looking biomechanical forms crawling across the walls and roofline, and they all but covered many of the windows. There also wasn’t much in the way of music pulsing out of the building, which suggested either it wasn’t very loud or they’d installed the very best in sound deadening. Given this area was a mix of industrial and housing stock, sound management had probably been a permit requirement.
The main entrance rather amusedly looked more like an air lock than a common old doorway. We paid our fee, checked our coats, and then headed into the main room. The music that had been barely audible outside hit full force once we went through a second set of doors, but it was fierce and joyous, and instantly made me want to dance. We paused to get our bearings, and my gaze was drawn to the vaulted ceiling. The huge room had been painted a battleship gray rather than black, and the ceiling again had a series of intricate and intriguing biomechanical and alien forms crawling all over each arch. It looked like something that belonged in a science fiction movie rather than in the middle of a werewolf reservation.
The room itself had been split into two levels. One side of the upper tier held a series of “pods” in which there were seats and small tables, while the other half was dominated by a long bar that was made from twisted metal and glass. The lower tier was devoted to the dance floor, and despite the early hour, it was packed.
“Holy hell,” Belle said, awe in her voice. “This place is impressive.”
“I wonder why they built it here rather than in a main city center like Melbourne?” I said. “It surely would have been more lucrative.”
Belle snorted. “This place is packed. I doubt they’d get a better turnout even if it was in Melbourne.”
But a city center would have given them a longer period of time before the novelty started wearing off—which I guessed could be true of any business, even one as small as ours. “You want a drink?”
She nodded and led the way across to the bar. I followed in her wake, amused at the way the crowd parted before her. Having Amazonian height and strength did have its advantages.
Of course, it also helped that said Amazon was wearing a barely there red dress that stood out vividly against the more muted tones everyone else was wearing. Even my sapphire blue, formfitting sheath dress seemed dull in comparison.
