CHAPTER Nine
Standing in the cool night air outside the nondescript door to Circle, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I picked at my clothes, grumbling to Solus. “I can’t believe I let you persuade me into this stupid get-up.”
“Dragonlette, you look gorgeous. And besides, if you want to fit in, this is what you need to do. You won’t have any hope of getting close to Tarn unless you pique his interest. This outfit will certainly do that.”
I stared down at myself. I looked like some kind of S & M dominatrix, clad as I was in a shiny lacquered skin-tight jumpsuit. A studded belt was cinching in my waist, and the top half was designed to be like a corset, laced together and pushing up my breasts to create an alarmingly overt cleavage. To make matters even worse, I had on knee high stiletto boots. Given my predilection for being entirely unable to wear high heels of any kind and not fall over, it didn’t bode well. The very snug fit of the outfit also meant that there was nowhere I could conceal a weapon. I tried to experiment with shoving the daggers into my boots, but the leather outlined them in such a way that their presence was too obviously advertised to get away with. Solus had convinced me that I wouldn’t get inside if I had any form of weaponry on me, so I’d grudgingly left them behind, figuring that I had other tools at my disposal should they be so required.
The Fae had kindly ministered to my swollen eye, helping along the healing process so that at least it was starting to re-open somewhat, improving my vision. He’d been able to do little about the bruise itself, however, so the overall effect when coupled with the outfit was, well, striking. Solus had insisted I leave my hair down and I kept fidgeting with it while we waited for the door to open.
“Stop that,” he hissed at me, as a small section of the door was drawn back and the unmistakable features of an ogre scowled out at us.
“Whaddyawant?”
Solus swept a dramatic bow. “Lord Sol Apollinarius, and companion, requesting admission.”
The ogre grimaced at him, then looked at me. “No humans allowed,” he grunted.
“I’m not human,” I said, calmly.
“She’s a shifter,” Solus interjected. “A were-hamster.”
The ogre stared at me unfathomably, then snapped the little wooden portal shut. The sound of several locks being undone reached my ears, and the door swung open. Licking my lips somewhat nervously and concentrating on not falling over as a result of my ridiculous footwear, I stepped over the threshold. Almost immediately, loud thumping music filled the space at a level of decibels enough to make me frankly astonished the sound hadn’t been audible on the street.
“It’s a spell,” Solus murmured.
“Huh?”
“Tarn has a few pet mages. He uses them to cast useful spells. Such as masking the sounds of what goes in here to anyone outside.”
“And the Ministry is okay with that?”
“They’re not exactly Ministry mandated mages.”
Interesting. This Unseelie Fae had more power than I thought if he kept a couple of rogue wizards in his back pocket. I had firsthand experience of how the Ministry felt about anyone using magic outside of their fold. I wondered just how much Solus had to do with members of the Winter King’s court. It was a world I’d never really come into contact with, and I had to admit that my knowledge about it was rather scanty. But with the ogre continuing to hover next to us, this wasn’t really the time to ask. Solus delved into his pocket and I heard the distinct chink of coins, which he then passed over to the bouncer before I could see just how much this little excursion was costing him.
“I’ve crossed your palm with gold,” Solus commented cheerfully. “Now let us in.”
The ogre grunted, then gestured Solus towards another closed door with a distinct curl to his rather large, wrinkled and protruding lip. The Fae led the way, opening the door with a flourishing sweep that was melodramatic even for him. Then we were in.
“He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?”
I barely heard Solus’ words above the music. It reverberated loudly through my body, until it felt almost as if my heart was thumping to match the beat. The interior of the club was vast, deceptively so from the small entrance through which we’d just come. Blue strobe lights flashed through the darkened dance floor, highlighting shadowy figures of all shapes and sizes, and a murky looking balcony hung over the space from behind the glow of the circular bar in the middle. There was an odd smell in the air, almost like cloves interspersed with cinnamon, and small flying creatures balancing trays with elaborate looking drinks flapping by.
There was a moan to my left and, upon turning, my mouth dropped open to see a vamp with her head curved into the neck of an apparently very willing victim, whose eyes flickered open when he felt my gaze. He smiled at me dreamily, as a trickle of blood dribbled down his neck and onto his bared torso. The vamp’s tongue followed it down, lapping at it with the delicacy of a small cat. Sickened, I looked away.
“Let’s get a drink,” said Solus into my ear.
Feeling faintly claustrophobic, despite the size of the club, I demurred. “I don’t want a drink. I want to find Tarn then get the hell out of this place.”
“You’re not going to find Tarn,” he replied, although I had to strain to catch all his words. “Tarn will find you.” And with that, the Fae tugged at my arm and led me through the crowd to the bar.
He shouted something to the bartender, holding up two fingers and then turned to me with a dazzling smile. “I’d forgotten how much fun it is here.”
I decided that Solus’ idea of fun and my idea of fun were poles apart. The flashing lights and the thumping music were encouraging the violent return of my earlier headache. The bartender set two drinks down in front of us; strange rainbow coloured concoctions that appeared to be smoking. I hoped that it was purely as a result of a scoop of dry ice and not some mage-inspired spell. I really didn’t want to have to cope with any bizarre magic related hangover tomorrow morning. He lifted up his drink and raised his eyebrows at me. Sighing, I did the same. He chinked our glasses together, then downed the entire thing in one fell swoop. I took a tiny sip and almost gagged. Hastily returning the drink to the bar-top, I eyed the Fae curiously.
“You’ve been here before?”
He shrugged. “I used to hang out from time to time. The nightlife in Tir-na-Nog isn’t exactly thrilling.” A half-naked woman, with what appeared to be writhing snakes for hair, wandered past us. His eyes followed her swaying waist. “And there are lots of opportunities for,” he paused momentarily, licking his lips, “excitement.”
I glared at him with distaste. “Assuming you don’t get turned to stone in the pursuit of that excitement.”
He laughed. “Relax, dragonlette. It’s just an Illusion spell. I had no idea you were such a prude at heart.”
I bristled. “I’m not a prude, I just…” My words fell away as I felt a heavy shove from behind, and went careening into Solus’ arms.
I twirled around, green fire already lighting up at my fingertips. In front of me rocked a satyr, clearly heavily under the influence. He had a smarmy grin on his lips as he looked me up and down. “Fresh meat! How about you and I take this party somewhere else?”
He reached out for my arm, but instead I extinguished my fire and grabbed his bicep, twisting it and bringing him to his knees. His yelp of pain was audible even above the music. Solus stepped over next to me. “You are a were-hamster, remember, dragonlette.”
I doubted very much that by now there were many people left in the Otherworld, ogre-shaped bouncers aside, who were still going to believe that. Regardless, I released my captive.
Solus’ eyes’ sparkled. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
“I don’t want to f*cking dance,” I began, but he took my hand anyway, threading his long fingers between mine, and led me off to the cavernous dance-floor.
“If you want Tarn to notice you, then you need to do something other than look like a fire-breathing dragon with homicidal tendencies,” he murmured in my ear. “He’s UnSeelie. That means he has some baser instincts that take little encouragement. And you are, as our satyric friend over there stated, ‘fresh meat’. Dance with me and make it look good, and I will bet you that we are in.”
“In where?” I shouted back, but it was too late. Solus was already spinning me round, then pulling my hips against his. I was beyond irritated, but if this is what it was going take to get an audience with Tarn, wherever the f*ck he happened to be, then I was going to give it everything I had.
Trying to look considerably more confident and dance-proficient than I actually felt, I shook out my hair and began to grind, reaching behind for Solus’ waist and half-closing my eyes. That was more out of sheer embarrassment than due to my suggested pleasure at being thrust up against the Fae; I just had to hope that it was the latter that was being conveyed. At least like this there was less chance that I’d topple over as a result of my stiletto heeled height.
I felt Solus’ hands leave my waist and travel up my body. “This is more excitement than I had anticipated, dragonlette,” he murmured in my ear.
“Don’t get any f*cking funny ideas, Fae,” I snarled back, albeit keeping a happy half-smile on my face for the watching public.
He laughed and spun me round until we were facing each other, then pulled me close again. I flung out my arms to give some semblance of wild abandon and, as the music’s tempo increased, allowed Solus to grab hold of my hands. Our bodies twisted around together as we danced, taking up more and more of the space, and forcing other couples and dancers out towards the periphery. The shiny catwoman inspired get-up I was wearing might look sexy, but it certainly wasn’t designed for any kind of real physical exertion. Sweat was dribbling most uncomfortably down my chest and back but, due to the tight nature of the outfit, was merely pooling in a slick mess against my skin.
Solus said something that I didn’t quite catch so I leaned in closer until our faces were almost touching. “What?”
“I said,” he repeated, “that don’t look now, but we’re on candid camera.”
Slightly puzzled, I maneuvered myself around to where his eyes were directed, while still keeping up with the beat of the music. I realised that large television screens were broadcasting our dance to the entire club, beaming down images of the pair of us writhing together. Okay, maybe I did look kind of hot, for once in a sexy way rather than a bloodfire way. Watching myself gave me the oddest sensation of hedonistic voyeurism. Enough was enough.
“That’s got to do it,” I shouted back. “Let’s go and get a drink and see what happens.”
“Aw, dragonlette,” purred Solus in my ear, “we’re only just getting started.” He allowed me to lead him off the dance floor, however, and back towards the bar. More than a few eyes were transfixed in our direction as we sauntered off; I just had to hope they included Tarn’s.
Fortunately, my expectations were realised as, just as I gestured towards the barman, another hulking ogre appeared. This one was wearing a bowtie round his thick neck and very little else, as if he were a member of the Chippendales. I found it hard to imagine screaming women thrusting money towards him, but, hey, who was I to judge? He bowed formally towards us, in a manner even more incongruous with his shape and size than his outfit was.
“The owner would like to meet you,” he said gruffly.
Yes! Trying not to be appear to overly exultant, I glanced quickly at Solus. He nodded, returning my look with a wink, and then the pair of us followed the ogre. The speculative looks in the eyes watching us were narrowing into jealousy as we weaved our way through the crowds to an ornate door set in the side. It opened automatically and we were beckoned in. At last.
The ogre ushered us into a waiting lift. I had been starting to assume that Tarn would be up in the balcony area although the presence of a lift suggested that we were going higher up than that. Clearly this UnSeelie Fae wasn’t much of one for exercise, however, as the journey took less than five seconds and it was obvious when the doors dinged open that we were only one floor up. The music seemed less intrusive up here, and the surroundings were considerably more plush: gilt mirrors, dramatic paintings that were akin to some Hieronymous Bosch visions of hell, and comfortable looking booths in which various Otherworlders were lounging. A few of them gave us curious glances but, for the most part, we were ignored. The ogre pointed us towards the back, and then we were on our own.
Feeling slightly unsteady on my feet, I grabbed Solus’ arm. I ignored the tiny flicker of humiliation I felt at needing his support to do nothing more than walk, but figured it might make me appear less threatening towards the club’s owner. If I could persuade him to tell me about Endor without having to resort to violence, then all to the good. As we approached his table, I realised that what must be Tarn himself was in the centre, arms akimbo while several scantily clad women leaned in towards him. With a jolt, I recognised one of them as a shifter. I didn’t think, somehow, that fawning over a Fae was quite what Corrigan had in mind for his minions. Tarn brushed the girls off, and stood up with a remarkable amount of grace, considering he was probably the only overweight Fae I’d ever come across. He was still remarkably good-looking, making me wonder if it was a prerequisite for the Wee Ones to be genetically disposed to attractiveness, no matter which side of the Seelie-UnSeelie spectrum they landed on. His head was shaved, as were his eyebrows, and his dark eyes glittered. I’d mistaken Solus for an UnSeelie Fae when I’d first met him - now I realised just how wrong I’d been. There was something of the night about Tarn that clung to him in a manner unmistakably of the darker side of faery.
He inclined his head. “Lord Sol. It’s been some time since you decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Let’s just say I’ve been busy doing other things,” Solus returned with a smile, although I was aware there was a slight edge to his voice.
“Yes, I heard you were in the Summer Queen’s pocket now. I do hope you are enjoying being so close to so much power.” Tarn was obviously being deliberately ambiguous with his words, suggesting merely through his tone that Solus’ proximity to power was more due to where we were currently standing than being in the confidence of the Seelie Queen. “And who is your lovely companion?”
I met his gaze directly. This guy was starting to irritate me already. “Mack,” I answered. “I’m a were-hamster.”
Tarn snorted. “Of course you are. That’s why you have a rather arresting bruise across your beautiful face. Because were-hamsters often find themselves the unwitting targets of attackers.”
“I walked into a door.”
He eyed me. “You’re telling the truth. Fascinating. Unsightly facial disfigurement aside, that’s an interesting shade of red hair you are sporting. Funnily enough, I was just reading this afternoon about a redhead. Something to do with the Brethren’s Lord Alpha and some curious allusions to fire.”
I stiffened, as did the shifter on Tarn’s right. I pasted a smile on my face. “I don’t think the Lord Alpha would be interested in little old me,” I said, trying to sound breathy and girlish.
Tarn raised his eyebrows. “Are you out of breath after your show on the dance floor?”
F*ck it. I gave up. We weren’t fooling anyone, least of all the target of our attention. I leaned over and injected in as much menace as I could muster. “You have some information that I want. And you’re going to f*cking give it to me.”
He looked amused. “Is that so?”
I didn’t blink.
The UnSeelie Fae shrugged expansively, then looked down at his expensively draped companions, dismissing them with a wave. All of them quickly stood up and headed for the door, although the shifter gave me a particularly dirty look as she did so.
“You don’t have many friends, do you, Mack?” commented Tarn, noting her reaction towards me.
I looked at Solus, then back at Tarn. “Oh, I think I do alright,” I said coolly.
“Indeed.” He sat back down, stretching his arms out again against the back of the sofa. “Well, then, let’s play.”
I remained standing, folding my arms. “You know where I might find Endor.”
“Endor?” he asked innocently.
“The necromancer. Tell me where he is and I’ll leave you alone.”
Tarn laughed. “Now why would I want you to do that when we’ve only just met?”
I snarled. “Where the f*ck is he?”
“Come on, Tarn,” Solus chimed in, “you know you’ve got nothing to lose. Just tell us.”
“I’ve got nothing to gain either,” replied the UnSeelie Fae, with a mellifluous lilt that did nothing but grate. The frustrations of the day were starting to get to me, and I could feel little starburst explosions of heat zipping up through my chest.
“You’ll gain your life,” I spat.
He laughed again. “Take a look around. Do you really think that you’d have gained admittance up here if I wasn’t absolutely sure I could defend myself?”
I twisted round, clocking the fact that there were now several ogre sized shapes dotted around the open balcony. “Don’t count your chickens that they’ll be enough,” I said, with slightly more confidence than I felt. I could probably take them all. Probably.
“What? A little were-hamster like you?”
Solus interrupted. “Fine, Tarn. What do you want in return?”
“Nothing you can give, Sol,” he answered, his eyes still trained on me.
I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?”
A small smile played around his lips. “Well, now that you come to mention it, there is just one little thing…”
“What?”
His eyes glittered. “Give me a pint of your blood.”
Solus exploded. “No way!”
“Done,” I said.
“Mack, this is a really bad idea,” Solus began.
“Too late,” Tarn trilled. He jerked his head over to one of the waiting ogres, who lumbered over with a blood bag and a needle. At my look, the Fae smirked. “Let’s just say I had a funny feeling we might be meeting in person. Although I did enjoy watching you dance.”
I scowled at him, then sat down on an empty chair and held out my arm.
“Mack,” Solus said again.
“We’ve got no choice,” I answered shortly.
“You can’t do this, dragonlette. You don’t know what he’ll do with your blood. What trouble it might cause.”
Solus was right. But I was right too. The only thing that mattered was finding Endor. If this was what it was going to take, then so be it. I’d have to worry about the consequences later. Besides, the UnSeelie Fae might be pretty sure he knew my real identity, but I reckoned that he wasn’t aware of the full power that my blood contained. And at least only having one pint would somewhat limit his resources.
The ogre tied a band around my upper arm, then started flicking at my taut skin to find a vein. Solus rubbed his face and sighed, then sat down next to me for support. Tarn watched as the needle entered, a lewdly lascivious look on his face. I turned away, disgusted, and caught sight of my face in one of the many mirrors. My skin was pale, the purple bruise across my cheek standing out in stark relief. That wasn’t what made me start, however. It was the fact my eyes were glowing from deep within that suddenly twisted my stomach in fear.