Lead Heart (Seraph Black Book 3) (36 page)

BOOK: Lead Heart (Seraph Black Book 3)
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Clarin!
” Noah growled through the door.

Clarin let out a gleeful cackle that clearly indicated his sadistic nature, and then he was silently motioning for me to finish undressing. I puffed out a frustrated breath, because I couldn’t quite decide whether to hit him or laugh at him. He forced me to change into a pair of skin-tight leather booty shorts and a corset-styled top in a dark blue colour, with cute little pink bows lining the bottom of it. The very contradiction it presented had me laughing as I pulled on the knee-length, kitten socks and powder-blue heels that Poison tossed at me. The last item handed to me was a leather garment that covered my arms like a short cardigan; it was secured over the front of my chest with a few buttons, though it ended an inch or two above my corset.

“This is a strange combination,” I remarked, staring down at myself.

I didn’t quite know where to look or what to think. There was a good amount of skin on show, and yet… there wasn’t. A bare inch of cleavage peeked above my corset before disappearing behind the leather cover-up, and only the tops of my thighs were bare between the shorts and my socks. Only a small stretch of my lower back was visible, along with my hipbones and a hint of my stomach. It was a contradictory outfit. A sarcastic outfit. Its innocence made it so much
less
innocent.

“I know, I know,” Clarin’s eyes sparkled, “I’m just
that
good.”

I skipped over to him and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for making me look trashy, I appreciate it. You’re a good friend.”

He laughed and Poison tapped me on the shoulder, handing me an overcoat. “What about me? I’m the one who provided the trashy clothes. Without me, you’re nothing!”

I shrugged on the coat, buttoning it up and shoving a small notepad and pencil into the pocket before I kissed her cheek. “You’re a good friend too. Aren’t you going to wear a coat?”

“I don’t need one.
You
need one so that those guys will actually let us out of the house.”

“Good point.”

“We can hear you still,” Noah grumbled, his voice muffled.

“On that note.” Clarin yanked open the door, motioning us out. “Let’s go!”

 

 

 

 

 

“We wanna see the guy in charge,” Poison drawled, a piece of gum clenched between her teeth. I had no idea where she’d gotten it from.

I was seeing her in a whole new light, all of a sudden. She wasn’t simply insane; she went beyond insanity because her
personality
was too large to properly fit inside of her
person
. She was a Hollywood starlet moonlighting as a college kid. Clarin was several paces behind us with Cabe, and even he was playing a part. He had changed into baggy jeans and a collared shirt, his hair gelled back and his tattoos on glaring display. He and Cabe were talking quietly while Cabe multitasked on his phone. I doubted that the security guards would even check their IDs—they were acting so nonchalant, and both of them looked older than they really were. Not that it would matter; they had
proper
fake IDs, along with Poison. I was the only one without a history of sneaking into clubs.

Poison propped her hip against the side of the building as the security guard looked her over. He seemed to be completely enamored with her. Or at least, he seemed to be completely enamored with the precarious way her top clung to her chest, threatening to reveal everything at the slightest shift in movement. I knew that it was an illusion because she had tackled me on our way out the door as I attempted to sneakily switch my heels for a pair of flats. Her top had magical properties, because it hadn’t so much as slipped an inch.

“Oh yeah?” Security Guy asked, his eyes still focussed too far south. “What for? You lookin’ for a job, sweetheart?”

“Matter of fact I am,” Poison confirmed with a smirk. “So is she.” She jerked her thumb at me and Security Guy switched his attention from her chest to mine.

“Come with me,” he grunted, and I couldn’t help but smirk at his disappointed expression.

My coat hadn’t presented anything worth staring at, since it was still buttoned to my chin. I didn’t plan on taking it off until it proved necessary, and since Poison was Poison… I figured it wouldn’t be necessary until people got bored of staring at her, which probably wouldn’t happen for a while. We followed Security Guy inside, carefully weaving our way through the lingering crowd in the front section of the club. It was mostly populated by sparse groups of men, with a female laugh to be heard only in the distance, though I didn’t see any actual women.

“These are the people too drunk to be allowed inside,” Clarin whispered to me, leaning over the back of my head.

Cabe immediately yanked him away, hovering protectively behind me. It was an uncharacteristically aggressive move for Cabe, and I suspected that the atmosphere was already putting him on edge. Noah and Quillan had made a wise choice to stay out of our way for the night. We descended a staircase at the back of the bar area, where another two guards stood watching the rest of the room, and then suddenly I was standing in a strip club. I stopped walking immediately, my body locking up in unwanted tension, memories of my
past life
gripping me with determination, demanding their due recognition.

“I’m looking for a man.”
The voice of my thirteen-year-old self echoed inside my head, and the topless waitress right in front of me faded away to make room for a face far more grizzly.

The security guard stared down at me, blinking several times as though I were an illusion. “What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

“Looking for a man,” I repeated. “His name is Gerald.”

“Is Gerald your daddy or your boyfriend?” the guard asked.

The other guard clutched his stomach and laughed loudly. “Ha!” He patted his stomach again and then set his shoulders back. “Well? The man your daddy or not?”

“Yes. Is he here?”

“Lots of daddies in there,” the first guard replied, causing the second one to laugh again.

“He’s tall and he has a belly like this,” I said, indicating the slight curve of a stomach in front of me. “Black hair. Last I saw, he had a black eye, too.”

“Last you saw?”

“Yeah.” I scuffed my sneaker against the ground, rolling the sole against the butt of a cigarette. “I threw a book at him.”

I wasn’t sure why I told them that detail… maybe I wanted them to take me seriously. They only laughed again.

“Damn, kid! What’d he do to deserve that?”

“He wanted me to touch him. I didn’t want to.”

The laughter stopped abruptly and both guards stood a little straighter, sharing a cautious look.

“There are too many people in there,” the first guard told me, “I don’t remember the names of everyone who comes through. I’ll take you in there now and you can point out your daddy to me.”

“His name is Gerald, not daddy.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go find Gerald, kid.”

I followed the guard inside and tried to avert my eyes from the sight of so many naked women, all dancing with each other or spinning around poles. There was a thick smog in the air, a humid and sticky cloud that might have been the result of smoked cigars, or perhaps it was something less definable. The guard led me around the outside of all the booths of people. The patrons were sitting in groups of one to four, with either one or two women dancing in the shadowy center. I looked for Gerald, but I couldn’t see his face anywhere, and whenever the guard glanced back at me I shook my head.

Eventually, he led me into the middle of the club where people were perched on stools around small circular stages, waving money around and throwing it at girls dancing on the stages. I finally spotted Gerald on one of the stools, and I quickly tugged on the jacket of the guard in front of me, pointing him out.

“That one?” the guard asked, his eyes narrowing on Gerald.

I nodded.

“Why don’t you go wait outside now, kid. I’ll bring him to you. I just want to have a little talk with him first.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I took myself outside, where the second guard didn’t seem the least bit surprised to find out that the first guard had wanted to talk with Gerald.

“You got any brothers or sisters?” he asked me, folding his meaty arms over his chest and regarding me with an odd look on his face.

“Sure.” I shrugged. “A brother.” I wasn’t accustomed to making casual conversation with strangers, so I didn’t ask him if he had any siblings.

“Older or younger?” The guard’s brow furrowed.

“Younger.”

“You look after him good, kid, and one day he’ll look after you.”

“I’ll look after him forever. He doesn’t have to look after me.”

The guard smiled—it seemed to be a genuine smile, different to the smiles he had flashed while laughing at me earlier.

“You won’t be able to stop him. One day, you’ll see… he’ll be protecting you and you won’t even realise it. Just like you’re protecting him now.”

“It’s my job.” I scuffed my shoe again, a frown pulling at my mouth.

“We’re people, kid, not robots. You can’t control what people are driven to do, only what influence and motivation you can provide them yourself. Or at least that’s what the wife always says… I guess it’s a bit too heavy for a kid to understand.”

I only nodded at him, though I had understood him perfectly. It reminded me of something my mother had told me once.

“People are not instruments to manipulate,”
she had said.
“They are musicians to inspire.”

My father would be inspired straight into the depths of hell, and my brother would be inspired to protect just as I was—because
I
was his influence.

“We had a nice talk,” a booming voice announced, as the first guard appeared on the sidewalk beside us, dragging Gerald along behind him. “Gerald is ready to go home now, kid.”

Gerald had been brutally beaten. He was cradling his ribs, his whole body bent forward in a crunch of pain, his bloodied mouth caught on a moan. Maybe they thought they were doing me a favour. Maybe they were… but it wasn’t very likely. Whatever they had threatened Gerald with, he wouldn’t remember it by morning. He’d be hurting, but he’d have no idea why.

Maybe they hadn’t done it for me at all.

Maybe they just wanted to warn him away from their club. It wouldn’t be the first club that Gerald had been banned from.

“Seph?” Cabe whispered in my ear. “Are you okay? You completely zoned out.”

“Fine,” I replied quickly, shaking my head.

Cabe caught my shoulders, turning me to face him, ducking down so that he could meet my eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Sorry, I was just… thinking about something. I used to have to drag Gerald out of so many strip cubs when I was younger. I guess I never thought I’d be back inside one of my own volition.” I released a small, strained laugh.

Cabe’s frown deepened, but I noticed that the others had disappeared already, and I began searching around for them. Guessing what had distracted me, Cabe started to walk again, leading me toward a door in the back of the dimly-lit room. Clarin was leaned up against the wall beside it, and he motioning me inside with a silent tilt of his head. Cabe squeezed my hand before releasing me, and I walked through alone.

“There she is!” Poison declared, giving me a searching look.

I tried to shrug apologetically at her, but the guy leaning back against one of the desks lining the side of the room quickly caught my attention. He was much older than I had expected; he had white hair caught into small, coiled curls close to his skull, and his bulky body was wrapped into a suit with purple highlights lining the pockets and the lapels.

“Simon.” He announced himself to me, holding out his hand.

I hesitantly touched my hand to his, intending to shake, but he pulled my knuckles to his mouth and I quickly scrambled not to wrench my fingers out of his grip.

“Seraph,” I offered. “Nice to meet you.”

“So polite.” He laughed, releasing my hand and turning his attention back to Poison. “What are such polite girls doing trying to get a job in my club?”

“I ain’t polite.” Poison sounded offended. “Since when did I say I was polite?”

She was still chewing her gum, and though she was certainly much more striking than your average stripper… or even your average human being, she was still playing the part well. Unlike me. I quickly unbuttoned my coat, tossing it over the back of one of Simon’s chairs and crossing my arms beneath my breasts.

“Just trying to make a good impression,” I said, inserting a pout into my voice.

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