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“It’s like hooking yourself up to a generator,” Bastion said. “One that doesn’t quit.”
“Holy crap.” That was what happened the night the vampire chased me. I’d used my magic so much that my tank was running on empty. My head buzzed at the prospect of a contract.
“Exactly,” Thea said. “And it’s crucial that you wrap this all up because the clock is ticking. There’s been another murder.”
Bastion frowned. I gaped. Prudence didn’t flinch at all. She already knew, on top of things as she always was.
“Lei Kung,” Prudence said. “A thunder god, from the Chinese pantheon. Not quite as known or as influential as the big wigs like Thor or Zeus, but his destruction will still have its impact.”
“Same circumstances,” Thea said. “Coaxed out of the protection of his realm and slain in our world. Time will tell how long it’ll take for his absence to warp this reality.”
As if on cue, a massive peal of thunder rocked the air outside of HQ. The lights flickered. I exchanged a wary glance with Bastion, then turned back to Thea, mouth dry.
“Sooner than we thought, apparently,” she said. “Best get a move on. Get more information, or seal a contract. Just do something.”
“I’ll do my best,” I croaked. “But who are we talking to this time?”
“Someone a little more fickle, and I dare say a little more esoteric than our friend Arachne. This one has a tendency to speak in puzzles, and I think it’s safe to say that she’s remarkably more dangerous, which is why your charisma will be infinitely important in sweetening your communion.”
“Dangerous?” I said, not meaning to groan, but fully doing so anyway. I looked to both Prudence and Bastion for a reaction, but if they were fearful or uncomfortable at all with what we were being tasked to do, they didn’t show it.
“Dangerous, yes,” Thea said. “Comes with the territory. After all, it’s not every day you’ll be tasked to commune with an actual goddess of magic.”
Chapter 10
The club was called Temple, and it was packed with beautiful people come to worship and adore each other, or the DJ, or the lure of a watery cocktail. Temple vibrated, both from the music and the sudden thunderstorm raging outside. I could feel the music in my throat, trying to punch its way into, or out of my body. It was hard to tell.
It was synth wave disco industrial baby killer night, or some other string of words I probably got in the wrong order. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some electronic music, but tonight the DJ was spinning something that sounded like a lawnmower trying to eat another lawnmower.
I looked over at Prudence, who clearly felt very much the same way. Her face was wrinkled up as we maneuvered our way through the crowd, trying to push through the swell of people to reach the bar at the far end of the establishment.
Who knew why they wanted a packed dance floor up front, but if the plan was to attract more business by showing that they had a full house of writhing supermodels grinding it out just by the entrance, then they did it right.
Prudence’s mood was darkening with every unintentional jostle a dancer inflicted on her, and I knew her fists were balled up so tightly that her fingernails were digging into her skin. Bastion, on the other hand, was clearly loving it, and that just made me hate him a little bit more.
He was dancing, not at all badly, I noted, as we wove our way through the throng. Here and there he would lean in and whisper something in someone’s ear, though how he managed to get anything through over the pounding dance music was anyone’s guess. But it got the intended reaction anyway.
The women he whispered to threw him intrigued glances as he half-sauntered, half-ground his way across the dance floor. Once I saw him touch a girl lightly on the forearm, the friendly grin on his face returned with batted eyelashes and a simper. I thought we were there for work, but apparently we’d thrust Bastion directly into his element, and he was thoroughly enjoying every second of it.
We made it to the far end of the club, close enough to the bar that shouting at the top of our lungs would let us understand each other again. It was at that point that Prudence had obviously had enough, and she dragged Bastion bodily away from the last girl he had made contact with, cuffing him by the collar.
The girl locked eyes with Prudence, then thought better of a confrontation. Bastion, to my surprise, took his separation in good humor and merely adjusted his leather jacket. I didn’t need to hear to understand what he was saying. I could make it out from the way he held up his hands and shrugged, head cocked to the side.
“Aww, come on, Prue. There’s plenty for everybody.”
Through the multicolored strobe lights of the club, I could still see Prudence’s cheeks going an angry red. She had to work with this guy on a regular, mind you. How she managed to stop herself from punching him in the teeth every five minutes was anybody’s gue
ss.
I followed as she dragged him to the bar, which may as well have been a parade float. Three bartenders worked the semi-circular counter, allowing them to sling drinks to everyone within a hundred and eighty degrees. It was a neon behemoth, done up in the hot pinks and electric blues that were all the rage in the eighties, and that seemed to be coming back for some temporary renaissance. Hell, it was six times bigger than the DJ’s booth. I kind of felt bad for him, but I guess Temple really liked making money.
“So what exactly are we doing here again?” I yelled to no one in particular.
“Gathering information,” Prudence yelled back. “We need to find the entity’s gateway.” Mercifully, she stopped moving towards the bar, saving me the indignity of screaming myself hoarse.
But I had to cup my hands over my mouth to get my point across anyway. “Don’t we just check a map for that?”
Bastion’s guffawing carried over the relentless boom-boom of the club’s speakers. It was like a dog whistle, and I was pretty certain that even after we had left Temple, hours after my eardrums had been blown out, I’d still be able to hear nothing except the exact infuriating frequency of his laughter.
