Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Shopping for clothes wasn’t something I did often, so it unfortunately limited my style selection.

I preferred to spend my hard earned, and sometimes stolen, cash on fun things; like protective enchantments to keep me safe from undead creatures and murder toys for murdering. Zane on the other hand, who didn’t need enchantments to protect himself from dead creatures and had vampire abilities that meant he didn’t need murder toys, spent his cash on cat toys and nice jeans.

Between the two of us, I looked like a cute homeless guy and he looked like a classy corpse.

We were quite the pair.

“You know what I like about you, Kevin?” I asked my fish as I went over my shirt with a lint roller for the fortieth time. “You don’t shed like a certain kitten who is squatting in the apartment.”

Kevin agreed with a bubble, glaring out from his coconut shell cave. Twig was on thin ice with him as it was for taking up his counter space with her existence. That cat had no idea how often I had to remind him to play nice.

Said kitten was busy watching Zane put on his socks, very enthralled with the chance to try and pounce on his foot. The hair on her tail never grew in, leaving her with a permanent rat tail that curled at the end in curiosity. When she finally committed to flinging her tiny body onto his foot in a full kitten attack, the deadly vampire parried her attack by scratching the base of her tail.

It worked every time.

Kevin and I exchanged looks, mentally agreeing that we were way cuter. I gave him some bloodworms as a treat because he was the best pet in the apartment, probably the world.

“God, are you ready?” I agonized from the counter. “Do you need to go style your pretty locks again?”

Zane slipped his shoes on and stood, his black sweater and dark jeans made him ghostly white. He tossed something my way, a folded piece of fabric I had to shake out to understand.

“Change into that,” he commanded.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Besides the fact it has a pancake making a sex face on it?” He gestured to the sleeve. “There’s a blood stain. Wear the shirt I got you, because you’re an adult going to a club.”

“Some people find my punny sex shirts charming,” I reminded him as I made the swap.

“I’m not one of them.”

“Good thing they’re not for you then.” I tugged the shirt over my chest and admired the fit. Unlike the secondhand shirts I lifted from the targets of my assassination jobs or out of thrift stores, the fabric still had some shape. It fit my body in a flattering way, and I had to grunt in approval.

I looked good in it. Zane gave me a smug look, and I didn’t call him an asshole because of the new partnership rule. I called him a butthole instead.

Growth.

The weather had taken a sharp turn as the sun went down, the cold almost unbearable when the wind went on the attack. Zane wore his beloved jacket, which of course went great with what he was wearing. I had to toss on a less insulated coat to not mess up the hot vibe I was giving, which caused me to have chattering teeth by the time we got onto the subway. The weekend crowd was out in droves, the subway ride packed with various walks of life determined to have a good time wearing minimal clothing despite it being freezing outside.

We surged out of the subway car like a kicked-over ant pile, the squealing brakes of a passing train mingling with the chattering buzz of voices and flittering laughter of excited youths traveling toward parties. Normally on nights like this, the real fun was in Midtown or Market, with bustling shops, endless bars and great dives tucked away in cozy corners of the city.

Tonight, we were braving the upscale crowd by meandering into the Business district. Most of this area catered to the corporate nine to five, with a cornucopia of coffee shops and tiny cafes that only served lunch. Llon’nai tower was a sharp knife stabbing into the dark skyline, all the floors still alive with activity except for the top.

Sias wasn’t there tonight. I couldn’t help but wonder where he was.

He hadn’t called since my…incident…with performance. It was bittersweet to let that mess of mangled shame cloud my chest knowing that Zane was blind to it. Checking my phone for any missed correspondence didn’t help to dispel it, since there was nothing new waiting for me.

I couldn’t help but feel like I really fucked something up.

“Are you going to see Sias tonight?” Zane asked. “You were looking at his tower.”

“Oh.” I checked to make sure the device was still hanging from my neck. “Maybe. It would be nice to have privacy.”

“It would be nice not to have to meditate,” he agreed. “Even at a distance, it can be hard to block you out sometimes.”

“I’m not sorry that my sexual energy is so great that it defies distance.”

“Pretty sure Sias’s incubi charm magic is what’s amplifying it, but sure.” Zane fixed his hair with his fingers as some wind knocked it out of place. “I thought you’d be over at his place more after what happened at the island. I assumed saving his life would have promoted you to his top favorite.”

“Who’s saying I’m not?” I defended.

“Are you?”

“Fuck off, Zane.”

“I’ll shut up,” he offered, placing his hands in his pockets. “Or, you can talk to me about it. Partners do that.”

I scoffed a puff of steam into the cold, curling my shoulders up as a blast of wind punched me in the chest.

“You don’t care about my relationship with Sias.”

“I don’t care about the sex part, but the other stuff I don’t mind talking about,” he corrected without a trace of sarcasm or judgment. “But I’m not going to drag it out of you if you don’t want to talk about it.”

I pulled at the skin of my lips with my teeth, the dry, winter air cracking them in places.

“You ever date an incubus or succubus?”

“Not long term,” he admitted. “But yes.”

“You never got close with them?”

“Hard to do as a vampire. She had a harem, which is very common, but I never ranked high. She had two favorites she’d known for years, and it was hard to break into.”

It had been the first time I had asked about his dating history, and while I wasn’t surprised he had one, it did shock me that he was part of a proper harem at one point. Sias didn’t like the “harem” label. He had favorites, a small group he enjoyed, and I always prided myself as being part of that. The dynamics of sex demon partnerships were complicated, which Sias was always upfront in trying to avoid.

He didn’t do complicated. That’s what had attracted me to him in the first place.

Now, I was disrupting my own status quo by yearning for something beyond “fun time fuck buddy.”

“I thought we’d be closer after what happened,” I admitted to Zane, the wind biting at my nose. “I’m not expecting him to prioritize me, I know better than that, but…I dunno.”

“What were you hoping for?”

“Sleepovers?” I laughed, hating how pathetic I sounded to myself. “He usually sends me home after. I would like to stay with him, maybe hang out a while afterward. Fucking cuddle? I dunno. God, that sounds so desperate. Erase that from the record, I hate everything I just said.”

Zane, for his part, didn’t seem to notice how badly I was floundering. Saint bless the stupid device on my neck.

He asked without a hint of pity, “Have you told him that you want to stay?”

“God, no.” I shrugged my shoulders up from the wind attack. “When he invited me to his group of favorites, he was very upfront that it was casual, and that he doesn’t keep people at his house overnight.”

“Sounds like you don’t want this to be casual anymore.”

“I don’t want him to propose, but…yeah. Maybe a step up at least. When I pulled him out of the water, when I thought he was going to die , I was devastated. He has to know I care about him beyond just wanting to have sex.” I blew out a breath. “Damn, I think that’s the first time I said that out loud.”

Zane hummed, glancing my way. “You’re worried if you tell him, the relationship will change again?”

“I know if I tell him that I’m catching feelings that it will change things. It’s not worth it.”

“Sounds like it already has changed, hunter.” The vampire handed me his jacket as I desperately tried to rub warmth back into my arms. “It changed back on the island, and neither of you have addressed it.”

I tossed the jacket on. It smelled like leather and Zane, which was a combination of wilted flowers and ozone. It always made me think of a grave wreath on a rainy day or a very gothic novel with water damage.

I didn’t hate it.

“Yeah, well…” I trailed off, not knowing how to commit to any real response. He wasn’t wrong. We hadn’t talked about that night. We hadn’t talked about anything. A few months ago, that sort of silence surrounding personal stuff layered with random, casual sex would have been perfect. After seeing him almost die, heaving his limp body from the water—something shifted.

I wanted Sias as more than just a friend. I wanted something else. Something more.

Maybe not a “boyfriend” per se but, maybe a partner?—

Except not a “partner” because Zane ruined that damn word for me. Zane is my partner now. Damnit, he ruins everything.

Opting to move on from the conversation, and thankful Zane couldn’t feel my mental misstep, I decided to segue the conversation.

“I need a drink.”

“So do I,” the vampire mused dryly. I didn’t take the bait.

This time Ushen had not been mistaken about the location. We didn’t have any weird surprises when we arrived to the address they had scribbled down for us. It wasn’t missing a floor, nor was it decrepit and freaky looking. Instead, it was the opposite; the most unassuming building in the complex, a small square structure boxed between some department stores that were closed for the evening. True to their advice, we spotted a large man standing near a back door around the side wearing a dark jacket with yellow “Security” across the chest.

“Lost?” he asked as we approached, giving us a once over.

“I hope not. We’re looking for ‘Rubber Gloves.’” I motioned between us. “We were told to look for the back door.”

The guard did the eyebrow lift of “If you say so,” as he pulled open the door for us. It didn’t do great things to my confidence, but I trusted Ushen enough to know they wouldn’t lead us astray. Not to mention the dead guy we questioned earlier in the day had reaffirmed their intel.

Still. I wasn’t excited about whatever it was that made the security guard make that face.

The entryway was dark, a simple hallway with not much else of note other than the heavy doors waiting for us at the bottom of some steep stairs. The pulsing music of a hidden, underground club wasn’t noticeable until we were about halfway down. Had I known what was on the other side of those fucking doors, I wouldn’t have thought the very flirtatious, cartoon rendition of a rubber glove with a ball gag in its mouth was funny.

Listen.

I’m not a prude. Obviously.

Probably the biggest understatement of a lifetime. But when I tell you that walking into a gothic kink club made my jaw drop, it has to paint a picture for you. I was quasi-dating an incubus, I had romantic trysts all the damn time, and I had my fair share of situations wherein there was more bodies in a sexual encounter present than myself.

I am not lying when I say I had never seen so many liberated goth babes in my life.

The club opened into a main dance floor with poles positioned on the upper stages, with a large bar that wrapped around the left side. Around the wooden dance arena were tables and corners shrouded in just enough darkness to feed into the scandalous vibes. A massive, gaudy chandelier hung in the center, draped in black crystals and flickering, fake candlelight. Two hallways broke away from the main area like antlers, with different music and lights filtering through.

“Holy Saint, this is…wow.” I plucked at my shirt. “I’m not dressed appropriately.”

“You have some latex lying around somewhere, hunter?”

“You don’t know my life.” I snorted. “But no. I might get some though. Damn.” I followed a very well-formed ass clad in leather as someone strolled by, his long, black hair hanging just above the dimples. “ Damn.”

Zane sighed his catch phrase. “Focus.”

“Worried I’ll poach all the cute goth boys for myself?”

The vampire didn’t appreciate my expert eyebrow wiggles.

“We need to find where Marthas is holding the artifacts, not chase after cute goth boys—which you’re not going to catch.”

“Fucking pardon me?” I laughed. “You don’t think I can reel in hunky goth boys who are literally walking around half naked? That guy is wearing a black string and nothing else.”

“No. I don’t.”

My pride was not going to allow Zane of all people to throw that amount of shade my direction without a fight. We were standing in a club so dark I could hardly make out the ghostly white girls spinning around on poles with platform boots on, I was tolerating no additional shade from him.

“You wanna make this interesting?”

“No. I want to find what we’re looking for so we can leave.” Zane narrowed his eyes at me like me standing next to him was giving him a headache.

“I bet I can land more goth boys than you.”

For the second time that night I was surprised. The strangest thing happening in that club at that moment wasn’t the man getting lifted off the ground by hooks in the meaty part of his back, or the girl wearing a bodysuit of a nun with a zipper for a mouth.

It was Zane tossing his head back laughing.

This undead prick was laughing . The strobe of red lights that kicked on when the music shifted filtered through his fangs, his hair painted with streaks of black, red, and raven feather blue.

“Yeah, is it funny?” I snapped, realizing I was watching his grin a little too long. It pissed me off. “When I win, you gotta give me a piggy-back ride all the way back to the bus station.”

“Oh, hunter,” the vampire crooned in a pitying, amused voice. “You’re not going to win this.”

“Bet.” I stuck my hand out. “And stretch your back.”

Zane grabbed my hand with his icy, dead fingers, and pulled me in close to glare his crimson gaze into me.

“You’re going to have to clean Twig’s litter box.”

“Deal,” I hissed back at him. “Good luck grabbing onto people when you’re that icy, corpse.”

“We’re in a gothic club, dumbass.” He dropped my hand. “Being a corpse is why I’m going to enjoy watching you scoop up cat shit.”

I might have misjudged the situation a bit, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him think he had the upper hand. Was he tall, pale and handsome? Sure. If you’re into dead guys growing out their hair, wearing nice clothing and smelling like grave flowers.

Shit.

Yeah, I fucked up.

Zane dropped my hand and turned away, melting into the throngs of bodies filtering in and out of the dance floor. I touched the device around my neck as I made my escape to the bar, refusing to acknowledge that he moved like liquid shadow when he was on the prowl. If I was going to win my bet against the vampire in a goth club—damn it, I was really fucked—I was going to need some alcohol and a big-ass heap of charm.

I parked myself at the edge of the wraparound dark wooden bar smothered in band stickers and faded water rings, and did a sweep of the offerings. The beat of the gothic music was quick and industrial, the synthesized drum beat grinding against bass. Beautiful bodies slid around each other in various stages of undress, hips swaying with the beat and hands reaching up to the ceiling to catch the lights on their fingertips.

The few times I was able to make any type of eye contact with someone was quickly shut down; a quick, bored glance skipped over my body before ignoring me completely. A particularly adorable man wearing low-cut black jeans with a scorpion tattoo on his back landed next to me for a heartbeat, and I got to admire the lovely scars resting just under his pecs.

I tried to yell a greeting, offer to buy him a drink or two, but he swept past me to reach the sweet thing wearing a leather pencil skirt and spiderweb bra.

“I think I hate this place,” I mumbled to myself.

The bartender, a woman with black-out, tattooed eyes drifted from one end of the bar to the other, too busy twirling glasses to notice me trying to wave her down. By the third attempt, I leaned against the bar with my elbows and contemplated trying to steal something.

A shoulder brushed against mine, pulling me from my temporary misery. A woman with short, curled bangs streaked in green and black leaned her torso onto the bar and lifted one heavy boot into the air for balance. Fake, iridescent fairy wings were strapped to her back, flowing down like a pair of wispy capes. They matched the plastic pair hanging from her ears, and while I wasn’t a patron of goth clubs, I knew a dealer of party drugs when I saw them.

This girl was the saint of Wings, Dust, Vibe and a hell of a lot more.

How she was able to move with the tight corset cinching her waist was impressive, but she caught the bartender’s attention with a wink and a wave.

“Hey, gorgeous,” the bartender purred, already sliding her a drink.

“Hey, Bonnie. Thank you, baby.” The corset woman put her hand on my shoulder. “Can you get my friend here a drink?”

I blinked in surprise, but didn’t leave the opportunity on the table.

“Whiskey sour,” I told the bartender, before turning my attention to my gothic knight. “Thanks.”

“I saw you struggling,” she teased with a smirk. “First time here?”

“Yeah. This place is…something else.” I was mildly hypnotized as another very cute boy wearing a skirt and thigh-high boots walked past.

“Sure is.” She passed over my drink as it was set down. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I knocked my drink against hers. “Thanks for the assist.”

“We gotta stick together.” She took a mouthful of her drink, the sip making the thick collar around her throat move.

“Sure,” I agreed, sipping my wonderful glass of liquid comfort. The music shifted down into a slower melody, the lights dropping into a twirling spiral across the floor. The rhythm of the dancers changed, people moving closer together as the sensual vocals gave them more of an excuse to touch. In the slow wave of bodies melting together, the sharp, cascading light slicing across the floor swept over Zane.

He was at the edge where the dance floor ended and the dark corners began, his head ducked down near someone’s ear with one hand resting on the small of their back.

The guy in his grasp tilted his head back, eyes shut, leaning back as Zane slid his other hand behind their head.

I gulped down my drink in envy.

“Your Dom is cute.”

My new goth girlfriend chewed on her straw while I choked on my drink, suffocating on the audacity.

“What??” I managed through my coughing.

“It’s sweet he lets his sub off the leash. My Dom is a lot stricter. I can’t fool around without her here.” She lifted a shoulder.

“Gods.” I wiped at my chin. “Not a sub. He’s not my Dom.”

“Boyfriend then.”

“Partner,” I corrected, then choked again. “ Business partner .”

She slow blinked at me. “Kay.”

“What gave you that wildly incorrect notion? Do I seem like a sub to you?”

“Well, a bratty one, yeah.” She shifted the straw in her mouth. “You have the vibe. And he has big Dom energy. But,” she relented before I could counter with how wrong she was. “My mistake.”

“Yeah, you don’t sound as horrified as you should. My Dom. Saint help me.” I exhaled and polished off my drink. “I know how you can make it up to me, though.”

The fairy goth princess tilted her head expectantly.

“Tell me more about fairies,” I told her with a wink. “I’m a big fan.”

“I can tell you all about them, and their friends.” She hooked her arm with mine. “Let’s go to my office.”

We abandoned the crowded bar, slipping through the wiggling mass of people filtering in and out of the dance floor. Zane had disappeared, his prey also vacant, which meant they were no doubt lost in the shadows somewhere probably making vampire babies. The night was still young, and I had plenty of time to reel in more bodies than him.

Still stung that he had a head start though. It had been a while since I had failed so miserably at picking up guys. My newly acquired freedom from Zane’s emotional nosiness was somehow throwing me off. I had gotten so used to keeping my guard up and my emotions in check that I had forgotten what it was like to just be my normal, unhinged, awesome self. A few hours ago, he would have been able to feel my eagerness to get some fun party drugs in my system, or my annoyance that he was doing better than me in the hookup arena. Now, he couldn’t feel anything.

I was alone with my feelings again.

It was kinda fucking with me.

My new best friend?—

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Salem.”

Salem led me through one of the branching hallways, the end of which ended in a lounge area with couches and tables, some occupied with bodies that were either tangled together or sipping cocktails. Her “office” was on an elevated platform near the back left, two plush, high-back chairs angled toward one another which were currently empty. I had a feeling her “office” moved depending on where there was space, but the back area of the club was dark, quiet, and out of view.

A perfect place for either making out, or doing a little bit of Dust.

Salem sat at the edge of one of the chairs and unlatched her corset, revealing a small pouch sewed into the lining. It was genius, and I also got to see the cool spider tattoo that curled around her ribs. The pouch was unzipped, and she tugged a few little baggies loose of items I was very familiar with. Each one was wrapped in the packaging one would know if they were a deviant of narcotics, and I was thrilled to spot something I hadn’t seen before.

A small envelope no bigger than a postage stamp had a glittery rabbit sticker on it.

“What’s that?”

“Rabbit Hole.” She handed it over for me to inspect. “It’s a melt-away. Put it under your tongue and it kicks in after a little while.”

“This like a hallucinogen? I’m not into the mind-fuck stuff.”

“Not at all. It’s more…” She thought for a second before landing on, “Manic euphoria. You feel everything at eleven. Great for dancing and sex.”

“Manic euphoria,” I echoed. “Now that sounds fun. You just take one?”

“Well, normally yeah. But if you’re familiar with Vibe and take it often, you can manage two. Space them out though, because otherwise it’s intense.” She took my money as I paid her and tucked the bills under one of her breasts. “Remember it takes a bit to kick in. Give it time.”

“Got it.” I unwrapped one of the little stamps and glanced at her. “You’re a regular here, yeah?”

“Most nights.” She latched her corset up after getting everything back in place. “Why?”

Under the plastic wrapping was a thin, opaque slice of pink. I peeled it off carefully and placed it under my tongue, adjusting so it fit flush against it.

“I’m guessing Marthas is cool with you dealing at his place? I know he has a steep fee.”

“Criminal fee more like. And yeah, I know the irony of that, but Gods, he really cleans us out.” She cut me a look I was very familiar with, her posture growing rigid. “You’re not going to narc on me, right? For talking shit?”

“I hate that bastard,” I said with a laugh. “Relax. I’m actually wondering if you can help me out with something.”

“Depends on what you’re about to ask me.” Salem fixed one of her fairy wing earrings and narrowed her perfectly painted eyes. “I don’t want to risk losing my spot here. I love this place.”

“You’re not. I’m a ghost, and I don’t make it habit of tossing good people under the bus, especially if they get me free drinks.” I leaned on the arm of the chair, closing the distance between us. “You know where Marthas typically hangs out? Or maybe stashes stuff here?”

“You’re going to rob Marthas of the Broken Horns? Have you already taken drugs tonight?”

“Not rob,” I corrected. “Take something back. He sort of stole a bunch of stuff from me so I’m just…reclaiming it.”

It was Salem’s turn to lean in, or lean as much as her corset would allow.

“What did he take?”

“Expensive museum-quality crap I stole from a rich dead guy that I did not kill.” I was quick to add that last part on just in case. “Found him dead fair and square and stole his stuff. I just want it back, and if anyone asks, I seduced some cute goth boy who told me everything in the throes of passion.”

Salem, who was a magical fairy goth goddess of sass said, “To make this convincing, you’re going to have to actually seduce someone.”

“Wooow, you bitch. I think we’re best friends.”

She tried to keep her stoney face, but I saw the cracks.

I pressed, “C’mon, Salem. Marthas can’t keep taking big slices. He needs to get humbled.”

Salem exhaled and scanned the room quietly with her eyes before pointing them back at me.

“There’s a back office around the corner past the bathrooms. It’s behind the curtain backdrop they use to hide the stone walls. I’ve seen Marthas’s people go in there sometimes. That’s all I know.”

“That’s all I need.” I gave her some extra money for the tip and for her silence. “For the drink and the company.”

“You want my advice, Mr. Not Sub?” She tucked the money away and stood. “Goths are like cats. Some of us love attention and cuddles, but most need to come to you.”

“I’m more of a fish guy.”

“You’re weird,” Salem sighed. “Don’t get killed.”

I gave her a salute as she sauntered off, making her way back to the bar for more free drinks and customers.