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“Well he’s got a lot to be angry about,” said Silas. His voice took on a solemn tone. “On that, you’ll just have to trust us.”
I stared out through the office window again, but the tattooed Venezuelan was already gone. I found myself wondering what kind of life he’d led. What long, crazy string of experiences happened to land him in the position he was currently in.
“The best thing about having Santiago as a friend is he’ll walk through fire for you,” said Cody. “He’ll kick through any door to get what he wants.”
I nodded slowly, appreciatively. “So what’s the worst thing?”
“Everything he sees is a door.”
Twenty-Two
BRYNNE
During the day the nightclub was an entirely different world. Gone were the lights, the sounds, the music. Without darkness and shadow, all the surrealism and mysticism were stripped away. It left behind chipped chrome railings, dirty carpets, and a whole host of other things that made the place… well, rather ordinary.
I’m not sure how Silas got the front door open, or whether it was even locked in the first place. But it certainly felt strange, storming the place like we owned it. Striding right through the hallways and straight up the same staircases I’d so carefully used to stalk Aimon Lozano.
“Can I help y—”
Silas mushed one big palm directly into the face of the first man to approach us. He fell backward into one of the VIP booths, sprawling comically across the red velvet fabric of its C-shaped couch.
Another few dozen steps brought us into the upper area I knew only as the Loft. Though I hadn’t seen it personally, I knew it was reserved only for the highest-paying guests and their entourages. I also knew it was close to the upper offices, and I’d told them as much.
“Ah, so it’s you. Finally.”
The voice that floated over dripped with condescension. It belonged to an ogre of a man with dark hair, thick brows, and surprisingly amazing green eyes. He stood behind a large, semicircle-shaped bar at the far end of the room, whose mirrored wall told us there was no one behind us. Twisting a white towel through a series of lined up glassware, he also had forearms so big they didn’t seem real.
“I was told you might be coming,” the man said simply. “One or more of you, at least. Of course I didn’t expect you’d bring the girl straight away, mind you. But it’s probably for the best that you—”
“Your boss,” Silas snarled, bellying up to the bar. “Get him.”
The man made a tsk-tsk sound, deep in his thick throat. He sounded like a beetle.
“You don’t understand. My boss isn’t here.”
Cody and I reached the bar next, and he pulled out a stool for me. Though his eyes scanned everywhere at once, he said nothing.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” said Silas.
The ogre behind the bar chuckled gruffly. Heaving a sigh, he set down his towel.
“You should leave the girl here and go. We’ll take good care of her.”
He reached down for a moment, and I saw Cody’s shoulders stiffen. But the man only came back with three glasses, which he clapped loudly onto the bar’s mahogany surface.
“For now, the best I can do for you is offer you a dri—”
Silas’s arm shot out so fast I didn’t even see it happen. He grabbed the bartender’ hand and squeezed it so hard the glass shattered in the man’s palm.
The ogre screamed, trying to let go of the thick shards of whiskey-glass that were now digging into the flesh of his palm and fingers. But as he struggled, Silas only squeezed harder.
“Your boss…” Silas said casually, over the man’s screams. “Youreallymight to want to get him.”
Cody on the other hand had made his way behind the bar. He poured himself a drink in one of the other glasses, shot it down, then launched the bottle over his shoulder and into the mirror behind him.
It exploded spectacularly, raining glass and knocking a dozen other bottles off neighboring shelves.
Holy shit!
