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I’d left my jacket back at HOPE and now I shivered in the cold October wind that rustled through the trees in the central garden. As I stuck my hands in my jean pockets I told myself it was the wind causing my jitters, not the prospect of going in to play games with a nightclub full of suckers. Still, at least I’d be out of reach of the dryads, or any other fae; no fae would be reckless enough to enter a vamp club without some sort of guarantee of safety—and mine was the silent vamp standing next to me. I took a steadying breath and scoped out our destination.
The Blue Heart had started life as a multi-screen cinema before the vamps turned it into the hot-spot for meeting the fanged A-list celebs. Two-foot high silver letters stood over the entrance, with the ‘A’ in ‘HEART’ replaced by the club’s blood symbol: a large heart in blue neon that pulsed like it was alive. A huge screen mounted above the letters (a new addition since my last visit) was showing a close-up of Bobby’s face set in his trademark Mr October expression, all smoky eyes and sulky, sexy lip-quirk. Meet Mr October on All Hallows’ Eve in the Starlight Lounge scrolled in blood-red script across his face, followed by sold out. The screen switched to a dozen gri
‘Doesn’t look like the ballroom dancing crowd are too keen,’ I said, looking back at Malik.
He was staring at the entrance. There was a stillness about him, almost as if he wasn’t there, as if he didn’t exist.
‘Earth to Malik,’ I waved a hand in front of his face.
The slight line between his brows deepened. ‘Genevieve, we should go in now.’
‘What?’ My pulse skittered into my throat. ‘No, just wait a minute; I thought you wanted me to change into Rosa.’
‘There are private rooms inside the club.’ Malik caught the back of my elbow and started guiding me towards the entrance.
I tugged my arm from his. ‘Hold up. I’m going to need clothes too—the shirt’s okay, but’—I tapped my thighs—‘these jeans are way too small for Rosa.’
‘There are any number of costumes inside for you to choose from, Genevieve.’
Costumes? He had to be kidding, didn’t he? I shoved the thought away. ‘There’s the goblins too,’ I said. ‘Remember they can sense past the Glamour. Do you really want to advertise the fact you’re bringing me, a sidhe, into the main vamp club?’
‘I ca
‘What?’ I frowned. ‘I told you I would.’
‘You are delaying us.’
‘No, I’m trying to be practicable ...’ My mind froze as he lifted his hand and traced a gentle line down my cheek, then tipped my chin up.
‘I may not like this guise of yours ...’ He reached out and wrapped my blonde ponytail loosely round his hand. The magic reacted to his touch, raising goosebumps over my skin. ‘... but it will make it easier for me to cloud others’ thoughts. They will not know you are sidhe. Besides, it is better that Rosa does not make her appearance too soon,’ he said softly, then lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. His lips were cool, a coolness that invaded my mouth, muted the small throbbing pain of his earlier bite and slipped down my throat like numbing ice water on a parched summer’s day. He raised his head and smiled at me.
I smiled happily back at him, wanting to kiss him again, to taste him again.
He took my hand and laced his chill fingers with mine. ‘Come, we will do this together, Genevieve.’
I blinked at my reflection in the black wraparound glasses of the small Monitor goblin perched behind one of the Blue Heart’s ticket booths. His dyed blue hair stuck up in a spiral from his head like a unicorn’s horn. ‘There you go, miss,’ he said cheerfully as he grasped my fingers and stamped the back of my hand with a blue heart the size of a pound coin. ‘All ready to party.’
I blinked again. Now I stood with Malik in an empty circle of floor in the middle of the foyer. I looked around with detached interest. It was Saturday night, and the place was heaving. Humans stood in long queues at the semi-circular payment booths, waiting for their own entry stamps, and others waited with bulging baskets at the checkout point in the bat—and pumpkin-decorated gift shop. Yet more gathered at the Blue Artery Bar, where a dark red sludge-like smoothie swirling with toxic orange—enticingly labelled Carotid Cocktail + Scary Shot—appeared to be the hot-ticket item. And opposite the cloakroom was another new addition: a booth where a shorter line of humans waited for Mr Nash, specialist in dental caps and implants ~ Fangs for the night, or for Eternity ~ Hallowe’en exclusives now available. Even those who’d paid still had to queue. They snaked between blue velvet ropes, chattering excitedly while they waited to go through the double doors into the club’s interior. As I peered through the crowd, I could see more humans having their photos taken with either a bare-chested, fang-flashing vampire hunk or a hissing, diaphanously clad Bride of Dracula.
The fang-fans had to be haemorrhaging money straight into the vamps’ bloated bank accounts at this rate. The expense of their new Gold-Plated Coffin campaign was certainly paying them back big-time, and not just in blood.
Malik shifted beside me, reminding me how I’d got in here—or rather, reminding me that I didn’t actually knowhow I’d got in here. I glared down at our laced fingers and jerked my hand from his. ‘Will you stop siccing me with your mind-melds,’ I whispered through gritted teeth. ‘I told you, it bugs the hell out of me. And what was that thing about Rosa not appearing yet?’
‘Later, Genevieve.’ He sounded tired as he looked about him, searching for something, or someone. ‘Time is not on our side if we are to achieve both this and deal with your police problem tonight.’
I frowned at him. His face was pale, and the blue veins under his jaw were darker and more pronounced. ‘What’s the matter with you? You look worse then you did five minutes ago.’
‘The humans,’ he murmured as an odd, almost panicked expression flickered briefly across his face, ‘they are more difficult to ignore than I expected.’
Uneasy, I narrowed my eyes. ‘I know you’re hungry but you were fine cooped up in the taxi with me.’
‘That is not the same, Genevieve.’ His eyes darkened. ‘You are not food, not as these—’
‘Malik al-Khan,’ a woman called, her voice sounding right by my ear, ‘where is she, Malik? You told me you would produce her tonight. The audience is gathered and they will require some explanation if they are to wait for their entertainment.’
‘She?’ I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at him. ‘Which “she” is she talking about?’
‘ Genevieve, please take hold of my hand,’ Malik ordered urgently in my mind. ‘ Now,’ he insisted. ‘ Flesh to flesh will make it easier to trick her. You are not who she means.’
I hesitated, then placed my hand in his outstretched one, his fingers closed over mine in a cold, painful grip, and an icy chill slipped through my veins until it lodged itself like a jagged lump of ice at the base of my throat. I swallowed past the pain and mentally sighed. Figured! As he turned us to face whoever, he pulled me closer to his side, my arm bent up behind my back, our joined hands hidden as if he’d captured me in an embrace—or intended dislocating my shoulder.
A dainty blonde vampire in a twenties-style dress strode towards us, hiding her lower face behind a black lace fan, the jet beads swinging on her dress clicking loudly as she moved. Elizabetta, head of the Golden Blade blood family. Some of the humans, with puzzled, even frightened expressions on their faces, were almost jumping over each other to get out of her way. Others stood and gaped in awe. What the hell was she doing to them?