Life in Shadows (25 page)

“Sure.
Believe me, chica, Heaven doesn’t give a shit how many people you fuck or how
dirty you are in bed. Just play nice with hearts. You’ll learn your way. I have
faith. Anyway, I gotta fuck off and deal with all my own bullshit.” Rachel
hopped up onto the balcony rail and spread her wings once more. “See you
round!” With that, she dove off into the air and disappeared.

Shannon
stood alone, looking out at the city once more. Her hands went into her
pockets, where she found her cell phone resting safely. She gave it only a
moment’s consideration before she pulled it out again and found the number in
her call history.

“This is
Officer Murray,” came the answering voice.

“This is your
inappropriate personal call,” Shannon replied with a smile. She didn’t even
consider it before it came out of her mouth. Flirting came naturally now. “Is
this an okay time, or are you handcuffing someone?”

“Kinda just
got done with that, actually.”

“Wow,
really?”

“Yeah.
Anyway. What’s up? You have a good Halloween?”

“I did, but
I’m wondering what you’re up to maybe tonight or tomorrow,” Shannon ventured.
“I don’t...I’m a little unsure of how to ask. I know I was completely spastic
in the morning when you were at my place.”

“It’s cool.
You had company. I understand.” He paused. “I could make time for you.”

She smiled,
felt the joy of anticipation again even despite the satisfaction of her recent
conquest—and then remembered exactly that. “Kevin,” she said, “I’m kind of
complicated.”

“Show me
someone who isn’t.”

“No, I
mean...I like you. A lot. But I can’t do anything exclusive. I mean I
really
can’t
, and I don’t want to lead you on.” The eagerness left her voice.
Now she felt only concern. She brought a hand to her mouth, clamping nervous
teeth down on one nail.

“I wasn’t
gonna presume anything after two dates,” he assured her dryly.

“Yeah,
but...what about after twenty?”

He laughed.
“Turns out my cat has a strong phobia of commitment, so that might work out
well for me.”

“You’re not
just saying that?”

“No.
Seriously. You’ll have to meet my cat.”

Her grin
returned. So did the sense of anticipation. “So, your place, then?”

“Wait.
Your girlfriend had to cut date night short, so sent you to a strip club?”
asked Crystal. The blonde leaned over the back of the couch amid flashing
lights and thumping bass, giving a “backrub” that focused more on flirtation
than muscle therapy.

“True
story,” said Alex, and it was—apart from everything he left out. He kept his
head tilted back so he could look up at her, focusing on her eyes and not the
lacy bra under her neon fishnet top.

“Wow.
Your girlfriend sounds really cool. Or maybe a little dodgy,” Crystal teased.

His
eyes widened.
If you only knew
, he thought, but replied aloud, “She can
do both.”

Crystal
laughed. “Then I’m guessing it’s more on the cool side. And open-minded, too.”
She stopped rubbing to grab a sip from the drink he’d bought her, then shifted
to running her fingers through his short black hair. “It’s too bad she couldn’t
come along. We see girls come in here with their guys all the time. Makes for a
better party when you know everyone’s down with all this.”

“I’ve
heard that,” said Alex, though apparently no such party was happening tonight.
Every woman appeared to be a performer or a waitress. The patrons seemed to be
exclusively male. He saw a spread of subcultures and styles in the club: some
men in business casual, others in sports jerseys, and a handful of guys with
Brigands motorcycle club patches on their jackets all seated together. Most of
them showed loud appreciation for the dancers on stage.

The
club felt clean, spacious, and modern. The crowd was loud and appreciative.
Booze flowed freely. So did testosterone. Alex couldn’t decide if he felt like
this was a safe space or not. Perhaps it was both at once.

Then
again, he knew a few things about this particular club that even Crystal
probably didn’t. “Safe” didn’t remotely fit into those secrets.

“So
is this your first time?” she asked.

 Technically
he still had another year to go before he could be in a bar, regardless of what
his fake ID said, but she didn’t need to know that. “Would you believe I
Googled ‘strip club etiquette’ before I came here?”

“Aw,
that’s really thoughtful, actually. Guys come in here all the time without a
clue of how to act. Or how to dress.” She tugged at the collar of his purple
dress shirt. “Casual is fine, but looking good is a better way to get
attention.”

“Yeah,
well.” Alex shrugged. “I left the house thinking it was date night, right?”

“We’ll
make up for it,” she assured. “You’re in the best club in the city.”

“That
was the plan.”

Her
eyes turned from his to look around. He suspected she might be checking to see
if any of the side rooms were empty. Unexpectedly, she made a plaintive but
adorable noise and said, “Hey, I’m being called backstage. Don’t go
anywhere—the main act’s gonna start. And don’t bail on me until we’ve had a
private dance, okay?”

That
surprised him. Alex held back a thoughtful frown as she moved away. He knew
he’d handled the encounter well: he tipped generously, bought her a drink,
treated her with respect. Her next move should have been to take him off to one
of those private rooms for more expensive entertainment. Wasn’t that how
dancers made their money? Why wouldn’t she stick with him?

His
gaze followed her through the club. She slipped around the tables and seats,
passing by the front of the stage where flashing lights and men throwing money
at the performers made it hard to track anything. It was only by watching her
that he spotted the side door near the stage. In the doorway stood a hard-eyed
man in the all-black clothes of the club staff. Alex realized the guy was
watching him until Crystal reached him, at which point the staffer coolly bent her
ear about something or other…and took another glance at Alex before they both
disappeared through a door.

Mission
accomplished
, he thought with a frown.
You’ve
been singled out already. Now watch the hotties on stage and don’t look like an
undercover cop or some shit.

Predictably,
Alex found the women and the spectacle all too engaging. He had no complaints
there. The atmosphere of the club didn’t exactly thrill him, but he could
easily chalk that up to his fellow customers. It wasn’t the first time he’d
seen a good show dampened by its audience. No one specific act or culprit
ruined things, exactly, but he wished he could be here with fewer men and less
booze.

The
thought drew his gaze away from the stage once more. Technically, the club
required a two-drink minimum. Crystal accounted for his second; the first still
sat on the table beside his seat. He’d barely touched it since it arrived.

* * *

“Did
you decide to stop drinking?” asked his “date” at dinner earlier that night.

The
question took his attention from the retreating waitress who’d just taken their
order. Lorelei paid no mind to his wandering eye. In truth, she was partially
responsible for the habit and often shared it with him. At the moment, though,
he found her blue eyes watching him thoughtfully. On one side of their table
stood candles. On the other sat a pair of nice glasses. Hers held wine. His
contained only water and ice.

“You
haven’t touched a drop since your birthday a couple weeks ago,” noted the
dark-haired stunner. “I’m not complaining. You never drank much before. A
little at parties or when we’ve gone out. Never to excess. But I’ve noticed the
change.”

Alex
shrugged. “I hadn’t.”

The
older woman across the table smiled affectionately. “I pay close attention to
my man. Is this your decision…or is it someone you used to be?”

His
gaze fell to his glass. No curses or necromancy affected the water. Nothing
within threatened to drown him in the traumatic memories of earlier lives.
Everything in the glass came out of a nice, ordinary faucet. He couldn’t say
the same for other waters he’d drunk—or been forced to drink. But he was
learning to cope with all that.

“I
remember working in some rough saloons,” he explained. “Saloons and brothels.”

“The
piano player?”

“Yeah.”
He grinned as he let out a rueful sigh. “Still can’t believe I lived in the Old
West and I was a piano player instead of a cowboy. My grandfather would be so
disappointed.”

“I
am not,” said Lorelei. “I suspect that piano player was much tougher than most
cowboys. We need not speak of it if you wish, or perhaps we might it off until
we’re alone?”

Alex
shook his head. “I’m not bothered. Not like I used to be. And it’s all still
pretty distant most of the time. I remember working in a lot of nasty places. I
remember fights. God, I’m pretty sure there were a
lot
of fights. Enough
to get good at it. But it usually happened because someone drank too damn much.
Every time there was a punch, there was usually a bottle, too.” He shrugged
again. “It may have given me an aversion. I might get over it. Might not. We’ll
see.”

“It
was a rough time,” said Lorelei, “and a rough place.”

“Were
you there?”

“A
little. Nowhere famous. I never made it to Dodge or Tombstone or anywhere else
that appeared in the dime novels.”

“Dunno
if I did, either. The memories aren’t that clear. I remember it being rough.
Rougher for other people, though. Especially the women. Brothels, like I said.”
He glanced up to find a troubled look on her beautiful face. “What is it?”

“I
had thoughts about something we might do tonight,” Lorelei explained. “It’s
somewhat less romantic than our original plans. I have been unsure of how to
broach the subject, and now this talk of brothels and rough lives seems
ominous.”

Alex
held his silence and listened. He knew something was up when they met at the
restaurant. She arrived late in a red top under her leather coat, black jeans
that looked painted on, and tall boots. Though Lorelei’s idea of “casual” was
still the sort of image one saw on the cover of a glamour magazine, Alex had reasonably
expected more than casual when she suggested a night out. She fed on the
attention her sensual beauty attracted, especially from him—more or less
literally.

She
fed on other fun things, too, but there had been none of that before his
classes this morning. Or when he went to bed last night. Even now, she
passively avoided his touch. He couldn’t help but notice. That wasn’t like her
at all.

“We
have no problem between us,” she said as if reading his mind, or at least the
look in his eyes. “I am sorry for my distance last night and today. It gets to
my plans for tonight.” She paused again, this time with an amused smile. “I
also thought you might need a full night’s sleep for once.”

That
drew an intimate, naughty grin from her partner. “I’ll let you know when I’m
worn out. I’ve spoken up before.”

“And
then changed your mind ten minutes later, yes,” Lorelei teased. “I’ll never
complain.”

“So
what’s up?”

“I
must confess I misled you, Alex. I couldn’t tell you of my plans while there
was any risk of Rachel discovering them. You know how discerning she can be.”

“You
mean she might know something’s up just by looking at me. Freaky angel-sense or
whatever it is,” said Alex.

“She
has that talent, yes.”

“So…?”
Alex prompted.

She
slid a business card across the table to him. Under the word “Vixens” scrawled
in red letters, he saw a picture of an alluring woman in a Catholic school girl
outfit that would fail every school dress code ever. “This is a strip club?”

“Yes.”

“What’s
wrong with going to a strip club?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve never been to one,
but I’m pretty sure it’ll be way tamer than the places I used to work. Or who I
used to be. Whatever. The whole world’s different now. Clubs these days
probably don’t even compare.”

“One
would think,” Lorelei conceded.

His
eyes came up to meet hers again. “Only you know better.”

“This
is more about business than pleasure. I must have private words with the owner
of the establishment. It may not be the friendliest conversation.”

“Who’s
the owner?”

“You
remember Rob Gorge, the demon you fought after we first met?”

Alex
grimaced. “How could I forget?”

“The
owner’s name is Lester,” she explained. “Because I told him a century ago that
‘Mr. Luster’ was far too obvious.”

“Aw,
you’re kidding me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is a demon strip
club? Seriously?”

“Well,”
Lorelei said with a shrug, “demon-owned, anyway. I doubt most of the employees
or patrons have the slightest clue.”

“So
it’s not a gateway to Hell or something?”

“That
depends on one’s definitions of evil or torture. I expect the drinks will be
watered down quite a bit,” Lorelei warned. “Also, unlike myself, most demons
don’t have the best taste in music.”

His
shoulders sagged. He threw her a look dry enough to match her words. “This
guy’s another one of your former co-workers?”

“Nothing
so close.” She smiled at his choice of words. “Lester and I cooperated out of
convenience on occasion, but we served different lords. He and his ilk come
from a very cold corner of Hell. Like Rob, he works to expand Hell’s influence
and earn souls for the Pit, and also like Rob, he wears a human form. Rob used
wealth to tempt mortals. Lester appeals to more lustful urges.”

“Why
do you need to talk to him? I thought the idea was to let Rachel and her
buddies run all the other demons out of town.”

“I
prefer to let that run its course, but she must find them first. Lester’s human
form hides him from the angels and helps anchor him to this world. More
powerful demons like myself cannot hide from the angels as easily. I’ll explain
the complexities another time. Regardless, he’ll know where others of his kind
may be found. I want to get that information from him, for Rachel’s sake. And
ours,” she added. “Fewer demons in this city is good for us, too. Yet if I tell
Rachel about this one, she’ll want to know where he is.”

Alex
could imagine the rest. “And she’ll go straight into napalm death mode on his
ass and not get any info, right?”

“Nothing
will remain but cinders and profanity floating in the wind,” she replied.
“Subtlety is not her strong suit. On the bright side, as I say, I’m
considerably more powerful than Lester. I can handle him if he tries anything
stupid. Even a couple of mortal bodyguards should be little trouble.”

“So
what’s the plan?” asked Alex.

“You’ll
go in ahead of me as an ordinary patron. I’ll wait until you’re engaged, then
slip in as unobtrusively as I can. Lester will have the place warded for his
protection and to hide him from the angels. He’ll detect my presence
immediately. If he has a brain in his head, he’ll choose to talk with me rather
than doing anything stupid. Then you and I will leave and take steps to ensure
we are not followed.”