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“I don’t suppose you two paid much attention to the squatters and whoever else stayed here.”
“They weren’t as interesting as you,” Nana said simply.
“I’m flattered.” I closed the drawer to the bedside table that had been left open by the intruder. As this piece of furniture was my purchase from a thrift store, I highly doubted the intruder was looking for an item they’d stashed here.
“Did that young man really use a card to make Alan sick?” Nana Pratt asked. “Or was it some sort of magic trick?”
“It was magic, but it wasn’t a trick. Were you aware of supernatural activity here when you were alive?”
Nana blinked. “You mean ghosts and such? Heavens no.”
“Not just ghosts.”
Ray shook his head. “There was the odd person here and there, but I didn’t think much of it. Live and let live was my motto.”
“I heard whispers of strange people, but I figured they were only stories,” Nana said. “I never believed any of them.”
I had a feeling most of the humans in Fairhaven shared their attitude.
Ray looked at me with a blank expression. “So, what are you?”
I offered a wan smile. “I’m a woman who can talk to the dead.”
“Does that make you one of the supernaturals?” Nana Pratt asked.
“The answer is complicated. That’s all you need to know.”
That was all anybody here needed to know.
CHAPTER6
Given the time of day, I expected the Devil’s Playground to be closed. The bouncer who intercepted me at the door suggested otherwise. The bald, muscled vampire looked at me with a dollop of derision and a dash of fearful uncertainty, which meant he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He pushed his hand into his fist and flexed his arm muscles, as though that might dissuade me from wanting to enter. Sorry, pal. You’d have to do much better than a gun show.
“I’m here to see Kane Sullivan,” I said.
“We’re outside of normal business hours. Is Mr. Sullivan expecting you?” His voice rumbled like a well-performing muffler.
“No.” I didn’t offer any further details, which unsettled the bouncer. I had no doubt he was used to more accommodating patrons.
His dark eyes glimmered with hesitation. “What’s your name?”
“Lorelei Clay.”
He tapped his earpiece, which I hadn’t noticed before. “Lorelei Clay is here to see Mr. Sullivan.”
It took another minute, but the vampire begrudgingly let me pass. The move from the entrance to the lounge was like passing into another realm. If Monk’s specialty was Bud Light in a can, then the Devil’s Playground specialty was surely champagne cocktail in a flute. The establishment was far swankier and more upscale than I expected for a lounge in the middle of nowhere. For a bar that was operating outside of regular business hours, there were a surprising number of bodies circulating the room; they far exceeded the number of cars in the parking lot.
I noted signs for three smaller rooms in addition to the main lounge area, as well as a large hot tub on a balcony overhead. The hot tub was currently occupied by two silhouettes. I couldn’t determine their species from this angle and judging by their close proximity to each other, I didn’t want to investigate any further.
Red and black were the signature colors. How original. To be fair, one could hardly design the Devil’s Playground interior in pastel pink and purple.
The pulsating music was set at a reasonable volume, probably due to the early hour. A raised platform with a piano suggested performances by a live band. I briefly wondered whether Otto ever ventured here. It seemed like his style.
There were enough patrons that no one seemed to notice me. It gave me a chance to study the clientele. I counted more vampires than any other species. Unlike the movies, real vampires could function in daylight, although they were more powerful at night. These vampires were clearly more interested in having a good time than flexing their abilities. They wore more formal attire, like beaded dresses and collared shirts, and I suddenly felt underdressed in my black tank top and dark denim shorts.
As I maneuvered past a seating area comprised entirely of crushed red velvet furniture, I became acutely aware of someone watching me. I glanced over at the bar and locked eyes with the bartender. He was every bit as decked out as the patrons in a red collared shirt and charcoal vest that hugged his sculpted torso. I could see why Sullivan had hired him. With dark blond hair that covered his head in soft waves and cheek bones carved by stone masons, he possessed the kind of otherworldly beauty that would make anyone believe they’d died and gone to heaven, even if they were standing in the center of the Devil’s Playground.
He arched a pale eyebrow, an invitation.
