Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective) (4 page)

And it wasn’t demon cooties she was worried about.  If so
much as an inch of her skin brushed against Forneus, Ivy would be trapped in
millennia of nightmare visions, direct from Hell.  And that was one station I’m
sure she didn’t want to tune into, ever.  But here she was, holding one of her
blades to his throat.  Her gloved hand barely shook as she stared down the
demon.

It was then that I realized the music had stopped.  In fact,
the entire club had gone silent as a grave, every single breathing patron
holding their collective breath.  I flicked my eyes around to see hundreds of
faeries, and even a few vamps, staring at Ivy’s blade where it dug into
Forneus’ throat.  The only movement was from a half dozen large ogres as they
pushed their way through the crowd.

Heart racing like the dance music that should have been
playing, my hand tightened on the crossbow, and I thumbed off the safety.  Had
it been foolish to cock and load the bow before entering the club?  Probably,
but I was now happy that I had.  If the club’s bouncers turned on me and Ivy,
we’d go down fighting.

A growling voice, preceded by a quick puff of air, warned me
of a newcomer to the fight.  I sucked in a shaky breath and turned to see a
griffin alight on top of the barstool Ivy had vacated.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, human,” he said.

The dog-sized creature had arrived before the other bouncers
by using its wings to fly over the crowded room.  Though smaller than the fast
approaching ogres, the griffin looked just as deadly.  An eagle head sporting a
hooked beak rested atop the body of a lion, claws and all.

“Why not?” I asked, keeping my voice low.  “What’s going
on?”

“You’ve threatened violence within the club’s walls,” the
griffin said.  “There will be no bloodshed here.  Club Nexus is neutral
ground.  If you wish to kill each other, take it outside.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Forneus said, spreading
his hands wide.  “These lovely ladies weren’t threatening me Gregor, not
against my will.  This was just a little game we concocted.  To keep
things…interesting.”

“Demons,” the griffin spat under his breath.

“What?” Forneus asked, eyes wide.  “Eternity is a long time,
as you well know.  A man must do something to spice things up a bit now and
again.”

The griffin, Gregor, frowned, but nodded to the ogres who
now stood at Ivy’s back.  One of the ogres cracked his knuckles, but none of
them reached for my friend.  I took that as a good sign.  Especially since one
of those hands could palm Ivy’s head like a softball.

“You know the rules, Forneus,” Gregor said.  “If your games
involve consensual violence, you must submit the appropriate paperwork to club
security.  Nearly any behavior is allowed with a proper permit, but we do not
allow anarchy within these walls.”

“Paperwork,” Forneus muttered, rolling his eyes.  “You’re
all nearly as bad as Hell.”

“In the meantime,” Gregor said, turning to Ivy.  “Sheath
your weapons.  There will be no bloodshed without filing the necessary
paperwork.”

The demon sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

“Might as well do as they say, darling,” he said.  “You
can’t cut through this red tape with weapons.  But if you do decide to fight,
I’m happy to provide you with legal services…for a nominal fee.”

I shook my head at the demon lawyer’s offer.  Pay Forneus to
get us out of this jam?  Over my dead body.  As I saw it, it was his fault we
were in trouble with club security in the first place.  I snorted and inched
away from the demon.  At least his arm was no longer wrapped around my waist.

Ivy looked at me and I nodded, slipping an empty hand into
my lap.  Cutting Forneus’ throat and impaling him with a crossbow bolt were
things that would just have to wait.  Ivy lowered her blade and shoved it into
a sheath concealed beneath her leather jacket.  In one quick movement, she slid
away from Forneus and leaned against the bar at my side.

“Are we good, griffin?” she asked, never taking her eyes off
Forneus.

“Yes, Princess,” Gregor said.  “Do try to follow the rules
in the future.”

Ivy grunted an affirmative and the griffin took wing. 
Apparently, that was the signal for the club to return to normal.  Music pulsed
through the room and dancers returned to their earlier swaying and gyrating.

Scowling, Ivy slid back onto her bar stool and turned to
watch demon.

“Ah, now, where were we?” Forneus asked.  He moved closer,
brushing against my leg.  “Shall I buy you that drink?”

Forneus perched on the edge of the barstool beside me and
now that we weren’t being chewed out by club security, I couldn’t help but
notice that he smelled different.  Was that cologne…and mouthwash?  Was Forneus
trying to cover up the stench of brimstone that usually clung to him like a
hellspawn fart?  Whatever he’d done, it was an improvement.  Heat flared from
where our legs touched and I wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled…

Forneus turned a raised eyebrow my way, but I was so
distracted that I’d forgotten the question.  I blushed, trying to remember what
he’d asked.  Ivy bristled at my side, her skin glowing so brightly that I had
to blink rapidly to keep my eyes from tearing up.

“Um…” I said.

“No,” Ivy said.

I shook my head, clearing away the ridiculous impulse to
crawl into Forneus’ lap and run my hands through his slicked back hair.  Right,
the demon had offered to buy me a drink. 
Get a grip, Jinx.
  Geesh, I
was here to celebrate the end of my relationship with Hans.  I wasn’t here to
hook up with some new guy worthy of a stabbing.

“No thanks, Forneus,” I said.  “I’d rather chew on
thumbtacks.”

“Really?” he asked, eyelids at half mast.  Those bedroom
eyes nearly did me in, but Ivy slid off her stool, hands twitching at her
sides.  I knew that with her new faerie speed, she could have a blade at
Forneus’ throat again in a second, and to hell with the consequences.  “Fine,
fine.  Until later, ladies.”

With a wink and a bow, Forneus turned and slipped away into
the crowd, leaving an empty ache in my gut.  I put a hand to my stomach,
wishing my traitorous feelings would stop complicating my life.  Having the
hots for a sexy demon was not a problem I needed right now.

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Ivy said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Are you telling me you didn’t just stare at his butt like
it was a double-fudge brownie?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I shrugged and turned back to the bar.

“You two need to figure things out soon, before someone gets
killed in the crossfire,” she said.

“Figure what out?” I asked, staring at the colorful, glowing
bottles that lined the shelves behind the bar.

“Like if you want to throw the guy into bed or an empty
grave,” she said.

I sighed and picked at a drink coaster, crumpling bits of
confetti onto the ebony bar.  At least, I thought it was a coaster.  Up close
it resembled a dried out leaf.  Weirdo faeries.

“I guess I want a bit of both,” I said, turning to Ivy.  She
groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.  “What?”

“Just had an image of you humping the demon lawyer in a
graveyard,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” I said with a sigh.  I let my head drop into
my hands, elbows resting on the leaf strewn bar.  “I can’t decide if I need
brain bleach or a crate of condoms.  Heck, do demons have STDs?”

“Mab’s bones, I don’t want to know,” she said, wrinkling her
nose.  “I don’t even know how you can stand the stench.”

“You mean his cologne?” I asked.  I thought he
smelled…yummy.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” she asked.  “He smells
like hellfire and brimstone.  It makes my sinuses burn.”

“That’s weird,” I said.  “I’ve smelled that on him in the
past, but tonight I thought he smelled good.  Like he’d put on cologne and
swished with some kind of cinnamon mouthwash or like he’d been sucking on hot
balls.  No demon stench at all.”

“You did not just say his breath, a demon’s breath, smelled
like hot balls,” she said.  Ivy slapped a gloved hand over her mouth, but her
eyes were laughing at me.

“And I can’t believe you just went there,” I said,
chuckling.  “Who are you and what have you done with my prudish friend?  Which
reminds me, we still haven’t talked about you and Ceff.  I want to hear all
about the hot kelpie sex.”

Ivy sighed.

“I think we need those drinks,” she said.

Our drinks still sat on the bar where Ivy had left them
before the Forneus drama.  She slid a pint glass toward me and raised her own
in mock salute.  I noticed that Ivy’s had a familiar chip in the side and
wondered how she’d talked the bartender into serving her in her own glass.  Who
knows, maybe weird requests like that weren’t that unusual around here.  They
did use dead tree droppings as coasters.

“To girls’ night out,” I said, smiling.

“May we survive it,” she replied.  Ivy knocked back her
drink and wiped her sleeve across her mouth.  “So, can we go home now?”

“No way,” I said.  “I’m not going anywhere until I dance
with at least one decent guy.”

“I was afraid of that,” she said.

Ivy’s eyes continued to scan the room, always on the alert
for threats.  I followed her gaze, sizing up each eligible bachelor in the
place.  In a club this huge, you’d think there would be plenty of available
hotties, but a quick survey of the dance floor only made me want to go home and
hug my crossbow.

“There’s got to be one man here who doesn’t want to eat my
face or plant mutant babies in my eyeballs,” I said.

Ivy chuckled and shook her head.  I was exaggerating, a bit,
but there were some pretty freaky fae creatures here.  For every beautiful
faerie, there was something that looked like a monster from Saturday morning
cartoons.  And though vamps looked yummy enough to my eyes—the faerie ointment
I wore didn’t cut through undead glamour—Ivy had assured me that I didn’t want
to date one.  No matter how sexy their glamour made them look, embracing bones,
fangs, and corpse dust was just not my thing.

“What about him?” Ivy asked, studying a guy who was standing
further down the bar.  “He looks harmless, for a faerie, and he’s kinda cute.”

I took in the boyish face and shock of curly, blond hair and
sighed.  He was cute, but not really my type.  He was above average height and
covered in lean muscle, but his golden curls would have suited one of those
creepy, naked babies they put on Valentine’s Day cards and his skin looked softer
than mine.

“I prefer mature men,” I said.  “He’s probably jailbait.”

Ivy laughed.

“I doubt it,” she said.  “He’s probably hundreds of years
older than you.”

He turned our way and smiled and I nearly rolled my eyes. 
The guy even had dimples.  Ivy waved and I resisted the urge to punch her. 
Jailbait was now walking our way.

“Great, look what you’ve done,” I whispered.  “Since he’s on
his way over, can you at least tell if he’s Seelie or Unseelie fae?”

Not that a faerie’s court affiliation meant they were necessarily
good or evil.  Ivy was half wisp and Ceff was a kelpie, both of the Unseelie
court, and they didn’t act like they had gone over to the dark side.  But I
figured it was best to be forewarned.  I just wished faeries walked around with
different colored lightsabers or something so I could tell which team they were
on.

“I’m a light fae,” the guy said, stepping up to my side. 
“And you must be the lovely human everyone is whispering about tonight.”

Crap.  Pesky faerie hearing.  I should have learned by now
that the tricksy immortals could hear from across the room, if they wanted to. 
Leave it to me to open my mouth and insert a pair of platform sandals.

“Um, good to know you’re one of the good guys,” I said. 
“I’m Jinx.”

“Puck,” he said, reaching for and kissing the back of my
hand.  His green eyes twinkled and that dimple was back, but Ivy was right. 
There was something about him that seemed older than his apparent eighteen or
so years.

“As in THE Puck?” Ivy asked.

I pulled my hand back, thankful for the interruption.  For a
moment, I’d felt like Puck and I were standing alone in an ancient forest.  I
wiped my hand down my thigh, wondering if the lingering scent of pine and sound
of dead, rustling leaves was only my imagination.  Had this innocent looking
guy worked some kind of faerie magic on me?  And if kissing my hand had sent us
into some dreamy forest, what would a real kiss do?  A shiver ran along my
spine; I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out.

“The one and only,” he said.  He leaned in so close that I
could count the freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks.  “Have you heard of
me?”

He waggled his eyebrows and Ivy laughed, but I just sat
there, wishing I’d ordered a second drink.  I knew my brain was scrambled after
the encounter with Forneus, but I had no idea what they were talking about.  I
was pretty sure I’d never heard the name Puck in my life.

“No, are you famous or something?” I asked.

“More like notorious,” Ivy said, smiling.  “Puck here made
it into Shakespeare’s play
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
.  If the Bard is to
be believed, he’s something of a trickster.”

Ivy’s mom had been big into Shakespeare, which explained how
my friend had heard of Puck.  I liked old books, music, and movies, but my idea
of retro was the early 1900’s, not the dinosaur age.

“Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the
night,” he said with a bow.

So this guy Puck was some kind of celebrity faerie
trickster?  What, exactly, did that mean?

“So, um, what kind of tricks are we talking about?” I
asked.  “Nair in shampoo bottles?  Sticking firecrackers up a frog’s butt?”

Oops.  I felt heat rise to my face, wishing again for that
second drink.  I swear sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own.  Thankfully,
Puck smiled and laughed like what I’d said was meant to be funny.