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“I’d like to pop over to Émigré.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not going to Aiden’s?”
“Yes, but he’s on late shifts this week, so he’s not picking me up until ten.”
She leaned a hip against the counter and took a sip of her coffee. “I take it then that this visit isn’t for pleasure?”
“No. I want to question Maelle about the murders.”
“If there was another vampire in the reservation, she would probably have already dealt with it. She’s not the type to share.”
“None of them are, but it is possible she doesn’t know. She doesn’t leave her lair very often.”
Belle snorted. “That may be true, but I’m betting she knows exactly what’s happening, both here in Castle Rock and the reservation in general.”
Of that, I had no doubt. Especially given she not only had Roger—her man-ghoul servant—to do her bidding, but an unknown quantity of ‘feeders’. “Shall we head over early, before it gets too crowded?”
She nodded and accepted the order Penny—our waitress—handed her with a smile. I finished my coffee and then got back to work.
It was close to seven by the time we arrived at Émigré. Despite the early hour, the venue was obviously already full, given there were over a dozen people lined up outside waiting to get in. I supposed it wasn’t unexpected, given it was Saturday night, but Émigré had similar lines on Mondays and Tuesdays, which were traditionally slow for most venues.
But maybe Maelle—who’d admitted to being familiar with the darker arts—was subtly applying magic to keep the customers and money rolling in. Just because I couldn’t feel it, didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
The building itself resembled something straight out of a science fiction movie and had become a minor tourist attraction in recent months. Though it had once been an old pub, the entire thing was now painted matte black—even the windows—and the walls were decorated with weird, almost alien-looking biomechanical forms. The front door resembled an airlock and was guarded by two rather sinister-looking security guards wearing black. They opened the door the minute they saw us approaching, ushering us inside against a tide of protests from those standing in the line. We checked our coats, then stepped through the second set of doors; the music that had been barely audible outside hit full-force. It was fierce and joyous, and instantly made me want to dance—and there were a hell of a lot of people here doing just that.
The room itself was split into two sections—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 entirely devoted to the dance floor.
I lifted my gaze 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. A dark glass and metal room had been built into the point where those arches met. It was right above the dance floor and had a 360-degree view of the entire venue while generally being concealed from casual sight.
Maelle’s lair.
I couldn’t see her shadow through the glass, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of our appearance. There was very little in this place that she missed.
As if to emphasize this point, a tall, thin man with pale skin, paler hair, and eyes that were a weird milky white emerged from the crowded dance floor and bounded up the steps. Technically, Roger was a thrall, which basically meant he had—via a process that involved magic and the consumption of Maelle’s flesh—received eternal life in return for eternal servitude.
His gaze swept us both, and something close to disdain touched his expression. And with good reason—jeans, sneakers, and comfy old sweaters were not approved attire in this place. “The state of your dress indicates this visit is an official one.”
“Yes. There’s been a couple of murders, and I wanted to ask Maelle some questions if she’s free.”
“For you lovely ladies, she always is.” He motioned us to follow him. “I do hope, though, that you’re not suggesting she is in any way involved in these murders.”
“I wouldn’t be so foolish as to come into her lair with such an accusation.” Not without spells at the ready and a major arsenal of stakes, silver, and holy water at hand. And even then there was no guarantee of survival, given her age and speed.
“Foolish certainly isn’t a word my mistress would use in conjunction with you.” Amusement lurked in the cool undertones.
My eyebrows rose. “Then what word would she use?”
“Dangerous.” He glanced over his shoulder, his pale eyes holding an unholy glint. “Very dangerous.”
That last part had been said by Maelle rather than her creature. The two were telepathically linked, and she could, if she wished, both see and speak through him.
“I think we both know you have little fear of me, Maelle.”
“You are this reservation’s guardian, young Elizabeth.” Roger’s tone was still Maelle’s. “That makes you the most dangerous of us all.”
I snorted but didn’t bother replying—though a tiny part of me couldn’t help but wish it was true. There might have been a greater chance of our surviving what was coming if it was.
We made our way up the steps at the far side of the dance floor and walked toward a pod that was closed off by a wrought-iron door. There was an inconspicuous keypad on the right-side wall; Roger tapped in the code and the door slid aside to reveal a circular, black glass staircase.
