The Scene (23 page)

             
“She does not need to be made aware of everything, Cyrus. Will you enlighten her, as well?” She jammed a finger in my direction. Cyrus never looked back to me.

             
“I will do as I please, as you have done. There will be consequences for your actions, Regina. Do not doubt that. Leave us now.” He backed away from her enough for her to move from the wall she was backed into.

             
“You’ll pay dearly for this, Cyrus! You leech!” As she flung the door open, I caught a glimpse of her holding her right arm.

Had he hurt her that quickly?
 

             
“What did you do to her?” I’m sure the look on my face gave me away as terrified. I didn’t really care.

             
“Nothing she did not ask for. She will heal. I swear it. You and I should be going now. There is much you have to ask me yet. Yes?” He walked confidently toward me.

             
“Did you just seriously pull rank? I’m so lost.” I leaned against the brick wall and allowed my body to relax for just a moment.

             
“Regina was out of line speaking to you that way. And, yes, in a way, I pulled rank. Dylan, I am so afraid for you. You have a knack for acquiring enemies. One of these days, someone is going to get hurt. I cannot let it be you.” He reached for me then and I let him.

             
“Why? What is with you? Why am I suddenly so fucking important to you? And why the fuck did she just freak out on me? I’ve hit a nerve, I know it! Look, I’m tired and hungry and my feeble mind can’t grasp any of this right now.” I jerked away from him and stormed back inside.

             
The warm voice was no longer emanating from the bandstand; the DJ’s speakers blared violently with electronic death metal. My head was pounding and the deep noise made my stomach turn. I didn’t even glance at the bar as I bee-lined for the front doors. Nearly to the point of hyperventilation, I erupted from the front doors into the cooling night. A large crowd of young Goths stood out front smoking. They all turned to stare at me.

Great
.

             
“Dylan!” Cyrus called at my back. I dropped to the ground then. I think for the first time in my life, I actually fainted.

             
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said moments later from my back on the cold concrete.

             
“You don’t look fine.” Cyrus, oh so nurturing, pulled me in one fail swoop to my feet.

             
“Take me home.” My legs were weak and I was certain I couldn’t maintain a normal walking gait.

             
“Dylan?” A familiar voice shouted through the crowd of people gawking at me. “Oh man, you okay? What’s up with Reggie? She took off. Screaming about you and Cyrus, bra.” It was Sam. The overtly Hawaiian teddy bear from the dark security room.

             
“Sam. How are you, sweetie? Reggie took off pissed?” I was feeling a little groggy. Post-eat-shit grogginess. Been there done that.

             
“I okay, Dylan.” His big cheeks puffed out in a large smile, “Ya, Reggie, she left. Real mad. What’d you do? Saw it on da camera out back, no sound d’ough. Came check it out, she went running out here.”

             
“A slight altercation is all.” I smiled right back at him. What can I say? It was contagious. “Hey, Sam. Did you see those guys we were watching last time on the video? The three guys. Remember?” I crossed my fingers.

             
“Ya, d’ey were here. Wit Malcolm and all tha’.” Sam was helping to hold me up now too.

Damn, I’m a big bitch.

              “Oh good, Sam, good. They left? Where to?” I said, standing on my own.

             
“Embrace I guess. Wit Malcolm, das where you go.” He smiled again.

             
“Thanks, Sam. I’ll look out for Regina, if I can. If those guys come back or you see Regina, call me, okay? In fact, if you see anything funny on those monitors of yours give me a call.” I smiled at him again.

             
As I spoke to Sam, Cyrus had his car brought around. With the assistance of them both, I climbed into the passenger seat and allowed Cyrus to buckle me in, again. I waved at Sam as we hustled away from the desperately fascinated bystanders.

             
“Do we go to your place?” Cyrus said from the corner of his mouth, eyes straight ahead.

             
“Yeah, right. I need you to take me to Embrace.”

             
“Seriously?” He looked at me this time.

             
“Yeah, seriously. No bullshit this time. I need a clear head. I gotta check on something. A theory I have.” I didn’t return the glance. I couldn’t risk getting lost in those ridiculous green eyes again.

             
“Alright. Then to your place?” He was smiling, I could hear it.

             
“Don’t press your luck. You never answered my question.”

             
“If you have to ask why, I obviously haven’t done my job,” he said. I left it alone. I didn’t really want to hear more bullshit.

             
My mind ran to Mike at the thought of jobs unfinished. I checked my phone for any missed calls. Nothing.

Where’s Mike?
 

We drove on toward eminent doom. Possibly. I fought the desire to look at him, touch him, hell even breathe through my nose. Okay, I understand he’s on a billboard in his skivvies for a reason, but dammit no one is this captivating. Maybe I was just overly susceptible to bullshit. Or extremely hot guys for that matter. Either way
, I had thus far only kept one of my promises; it was the big one after all, and for that I deserve some serious brownie points.

In contradiction to every fiber of my being
, I didn’t ask any more questions as we sped away toward the one place I swore I would not go. No need to frighten the monsters into killing me. I was, in any case, trapped in a moving vessel with someone who’s possibly dangerous. I am a complete idiot.

             
Over the river and through the woods to scary ass vampires’ house we go…or nightclub, whatever.

CHAPTER 23

             
I checked my phone one last time before exiting the car. Nothing still.

Damn
.

Cyrus moved around the front of the vehicle to open my door. I watched his every move. As I let my legs fall out of the open door
, I silently prayed my feet would hold me and wished I’d brought my tennies. Little black dress be damned; I needed foot support.

             
“Are you positive this is what you want?” Cyrus held my hand as we walked side by side up the red carpet toward the man with the tiny black shirt.

             
“Yeah. I just gotta check on something.” My heart began to race at the thought of going back in there. Big Bad Dylan’s afraid of the unknown. Well, afraid of serial murderers who may be lurking inside. Possibly.

             
“You said that already. What is it you are checking on?” We stopped short of the entrance.

             
“Something Reggie had told me, and Sam. Some guys, new to these places, from out of town. They could be our…not good people. I just want to talk to them, if they’re here.” My feet moved before I asked them to toward the double doors. Cyrus held firm, not allowing our duo to enter.

             
“Whoever…whatever you might find here, isn’t something you want to talk to, Dylan. Besides, I don’t think you’ll find anything for your book in there.” He nodded his head in the direction of the establishment.

             
“How the fuck do you know what I need? It’s not even about the book anymore, Cyrus. It’s about survival, now. Mine, Tatum’s, other girls. These people are sick, blood drinking, freaks! And if they’re going to be anywhere, they’re gonna be in there.” I turned my face and jutted a finger dramatically toward the place in question.

             
“Oh really? Freaks? In there? That’s what you think? People who are draining girls to the point of death are in there? Where freaks like me frequent? And Malcolm, what do you know of him? Nothing. You know nothing.” He released my hand and stormed toward the entrance.

             
“Cyrus, ugh, I didn’t mean you.” Yes I did. “I’m not even certain what I need is here.” Yes I am. “Please wait. I don’t even care about Malcolm.” Yes I do. Lies, all lies. But I won.

             
“Hurry up, Dylan, before I leave you in the dark for the monsters to eat.” He never even looked back at me. He checked in with the bouncer and vaguely pointed in my direction. The large man in the tiny shirt held the velvet rope aside for me as I trudged through the doors behind Cyrus the Jackass.

             
“Jesus, Cyrus, thanks for waiting.” I stumbled into his wide form. Embrace is lit by candle light only, very dim to say the least.

             
“Find what you need. When you’re ready, I’ll take you home.” He started to walk away and leave me standing in the dimly lit entry way like a loser at prom. He was very good at reminding me of the hell that was high school.

             
“Please stay with me?” I stood there and tried to look as helpless as possible. It wasn’t very difficult, I was fairly helpless.

             
He rolled his eyes and looked quite sullen, but he stayed. I surveyed the layout for anything out of the norm. Oh, what the hell was I doing? I didn’t know what would be out of the norm; this whole place was out of the norm. Way out.

             
“Do you see anyone you’ve never seen before? How about Malcolm?” I continued to scan the crowd. I couldn’t see shit it was so dark.

             
“Now I have to assist you in your insanity?” He didn’t sound happy, but he did as I asked.

             
As I scanned the masses, I caught sight of someone I really did not want to make contact with tonight. Hell, ever. I attempted to avoid eye contact moving my eyes back and forth over the room. I felt a surge of electricity flutter out of Cyrus. I hurled my head to the left to make sure he hadn’t been electrocuted. Nope. He was, however, caught in the tractor-beam of said individual.

             
“Ugh. That bitch.” It was my turn to roll eyes.

             
“Cyrus, my darling boy.” Dominika slinked her way toward us. Cyrus moved forward to meet her half way. Kissing her on either cheek.

             
“Dominika.” One word. Simple, right?

             
“Oh, I see you have an escort tonight. And look who it is, our lovely little journalist, Donnie. How are you?” Dominika moved in for the smooch. I dodged it.

             
“It’s Dylan. I’m here on business. If you’ll excuse me.” I shot a look to Cyrus and moved around the snide little whore.

             
“Oh, really?” She snatched me by the arm stopping me in my tracks. “And what business would that be? Darling Dylan.” The words slithered from her lips like a snake, with a Russian accent. Weird combo.

             
“I’m here to see a man about a dead girl. Or, more specifically, girls. And men. Or boys which ever you prefer. If you’ll let me go now, I need to see Malcolm.” I tried to jerk my arm away unsuccessfully. Russian bitches are tough apparently.

             
“You go nowhere. Cyrus, sweetheart, why is she here? In our sanctuary. Searching for proof I assume. Yes?” Her long face turned to mine as she said this. Hissing words into my face.

             
“Of sorts, I suppose. Just a few questions is all.” No harm, right?

             
“She is with me, Dominika. You will release her arm and allow us to meet with Malcolm.” She did. So fast it hurt. Before I knew it, she had Cyrus backed into a wall five feet away.

             
This lighting is fucked, I can’t see shit.

             
“Cyrus, you pathetic fool. You bring this…girl here. Do you realize what may come about from this? She is not here for you. Or this.” Her hand slid down to his groin. “She is here for us all. There will be a witch hunt soon because of all of this and we will be the center target if she is allowed to spill her propaganda.” Dominika had Cyrus pressed against the wall with her forearm. She didn’t seem that big to me but she sure as hell was petrifying.

             
“She will not. She only wants to speak with Malcolm about the boys of Regina’s. Not you or I, there is no danger.” His hands were up in surrender. I’d have thrown in a towel for him if I had one.

             
“Regina and her boys are not to be interrogated like common criminals; there will be no police here. She has a man waiting in the wings, a detective, he will come. Do as you wish to the baby bats; they are no concern of mine, but do not do it here, Cyrus. This is our sanctuary, our haven. It will not be tainted with mundane tramps and whores with their big tough policemen bearing guns and badges. As if they matter. Maintain the confidentiality of our coven, Cyrus, at all costs.” She released him then. From my vantage point, it appeared as though he slid a few inches down the wall to his feet.

             
“No police. Sh…I just need to talk to Malcolm.” He moved quickly away from her to stand next to me.

             
“No police? I can’t control that. If they come, they come. What boys? You said Regina and her boys. Where are they? Are they here now? Screw Malcolm, I want those vampire boys. What do you know, Dominika?” My senselessness flew from my mouth like diarrhea.

             
“You will not befoul our home!” she screamed at me but it didn’t seem to faze the crowd. It did however cause me to wet my pants; just a little.

             
“Dominika, all is well. I have this under control.” Cyrus reassured her.

             
“You control nothing, boy.” She was suddenly in my face. “Maradj a segged, hülye, különben almodban tepem ki a szívedet!” Her words declared malicious intent, no matter what language.

              “Out the back, up the steps. Go.” Cyrus was holding my arm now and dragging me with him. My eyes were fixed on the psychotic bitch behind me.

“You’re scared, aren’t you? What did she say? Cyrus, slow down!” We were out the back door and flying up the back steps before I could blink. I had yet to receive answers to any of my questions.

The metal stairs clanged loudly as we clambered up them. Cyrus beat on the thick metal door furiously. Banging metal reverberated off the walls in the darkened alley after each pound if his fist. No answer.

“Oh, fuck it.” It may have been the first F-bomb I had heard from his perfect mouth. I liked it.

Cyrus shoved the door open wide to the wall. Legs and arms flew in all directions. Fabric went flying; clothing, a blanket, panties.

Panties?

In a flash, I had seen a whole heap and nothing and everything. A flash of pale skin and mussed fire-red hair, clothing, a destroyed desk, all in one shot. Mental overload. I stood, mouth agape, questioning my vision.

“What the fuck?” F-bomb number two.

“What the fuck!?” My turn. However, I added, “Tatum?!”

The two of us just stood there and watched the partially nude duo search for their clothing. Honestly, I would never have assumed Tatum would be the more modest of the two, but Malcolm resumed composure immediately after locating his pants. Tatum on the other hand was hysterically surfing the crumbled throw-blanket for her top. I suppose us girls have more to be concerned with than just pants on these occasions.

              “What do you think you are doing, charging into my office unannounced?” This from the half-naked red-head.

             
“In my defense…ma…sir, I did knock. Repeatedly.” Cyrus’ words were slow and concise, aside from that intriguing slip up. His eyes on the other hand were unfocused, rapidly observing the aftermath of sex interrupted.

             
“That is no excuse. You did not have an appointment to see me this evening and therefore are not welcome. And you, miss, I have extended to you an invitation to any number of my establishments, none of which included my private offices.” The brogue was thick in his anger. His face and neck became a cherry red with rage, or maybe embarrassment, he was in fact wearing only a pair of drawstring linen pants. The red was a stark contrast to the milky-white of his bare chest. He reminded me of a candy cane.

             
“Look here Ginger Spice; I was dragged in here by my arm escaping your Russian baddie down there. Not exactly my fault. And furthermore, you’re in here, nailing my best friend and I’m not allowed to enter? You sure as hell established authorization to enter where you were otherwise not welcome. Sorry for the cock-block, T, really, but when did you switch teams? You were anti-artificial-fang not two hours ago; nearly killing me in your reckless attempt to avoid a gory death by the fangs of a vampire serial killer, in fact. What the fuck’s going on here?” I looked them both in the eye. Tatum had finally recovered her missing shirt and was now standing by her man.

             
“Hungarian.” Cyrus suddenly spoke in my ear.

             
“What?”

             
“Dominika. She’s Hungarian, not Russian.”

             
“Oh. Is that really relevant right now? Someone other than Cyrus please answer me.”

             
“What do you want Dylan? This is really none of your business. I’m a big girl and I can do as I please.” Tatum had never really spoken to me like that before.

             
“How long? How long have you been doing…this?” I shoved my thumb at the crimson-Casanova.

             
“Does it matter? I’m here now. I’m staying here tonight. You can stay with Mike, you’ll be fine.” Her eyes flicked to Cyrus then back to me. “Unless you’ve changed your plans.” An eyebrow raise and smirk was the only flash of the real Tatum I’d had thus far.

             
“Whatever. You know, big girl choices have big girl consequences. You’ve made your bed, go fuck yourself in it.” I stormed out like a child. The metal stairs allowed my stomping to really pack a punch.

             
Ha! Go fuck yourself in it. That was a good one.