The Bone Coven Chronicles: The Complete Series Page 5

  “I’ll pay you,” she said quickly, her words beginning to slur. “You charge two hundred to banish a demon, right?”

  She really had been listening.

  “Finding a missing warlock might be a little more time-consuming than banishing a demon,” I said. “A banishment takes no more than half an hour. This could take…well, I don’t know how long it would take. Longer than half an hour though.”

  “Fine. I’ll double it.” She reached into her wallet and pulled out several crumpled one-hundred dollar bills. She’d clearly come prepared for this. “Here’s his photo and four hundred bucks. Up front. You bring him home to me, and I’ll give you four hundred more.”

  I blinked down at the money. We could seriously use eight hundred bucks right now. It would take care of the overdue rent and the hot water. And I could buy some better food while I was at it. Still, I’d never searched for a missing person before, and I wasn’t entirely sure where to start. That was the kind of job the Enforcers tended to do back when there were more of us. Of course…they had forced me to join their team in a way, which kind of meant I was one of them now. Maybe I could get access to some of their resources and insider information, making this job a hell of a lot easier.

  I’d do it. For the rent money. For the fresh food. For Grams.

  My hand snatched up the money, and I slid it into my back pocket with a smile. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter 6

  Two in the morning is a terrible time of day for most people. The world gets tucked up in their comfy beds. Hours full of nothing but soft pillows and silky sheets. Sleeping, dreaming, and resting for a brand new day. Me? That was when I tended to squeeze in my extracurricular jobs.

  In other words, late at night was when I conned people.

  Only this time, my job was legit. I needed to find a missing warlock, and there were a few places I wanted to look for Alice’s husband before I tried to pry some information from the Enforcers. I could scope out his office at the university tomorrow, but there was nothing stopping me from getting started tonight.

  Because as much as Alice believed her husband wouldn’t have left of his own accord, sometimes shit like that just happens. According to her, he’d been distant with her during the past few months. Maybe he wanted some space. Maybe he was overwhelmed by work. Hell, maybe he decided he no longer wanted to be married.

  If that was the case, he probably hadn’t gone far, and Boston was home to several nightlife hotspots frequented by members of the non-vampire supernatural community. Bubbles & Trouble was a good bet. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a strip club for warlocks, but it wasn’t far off. It’d be the perfect place to find a lonely warlock fleeing from his married life.

  Luckily, it was on the way to the vampire club. I was scheduled to meet Dorian outside of Slayerville at three, so I had about an hour to swing by Bubbles & Trouble and scope things out.

  But when I stepped out the side door of the bar, my plans went flying into the sky to join the thick rolling clouds. Dorian stood there waiting for me, his hands slung deep into his dark jeans. Even in the chilly night, he wore only a black t-shirt that clung to his chiseled biceps, a startling contrast to the trench coat from earlier today.

  Nerves shot through my body, and my heart squeezed tight. The guy clearly worked out. Not that I noticed.

  “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at Slayerville in an hour,” I said. For once, I’d like a day to go as planned, and Dorian showing up early meant the very opposite of that. “If you’re wondering why I’m out walking the streets so late, it’s not because I’m about to murder someone. I work here. As a bartender.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice barely heard above the light wind that whistled through the thin alleyway.

  “Right. Of course you do.” I smacked my palm against my forehead. “How could I forget? You’ve been stalking me.”

  “I haven’t been stalking you, as you so kindly put it,” he said.

  “Well, then what would you call it?” a voice rang out behind me. Laura stepped out into the back alley. The heavy side door of the bar slammed behind her, a sound that reverberated in my bones. She stepped up to my side and glared at Dorian, and I couldn’t help but press my lips together to hide the smile.

  “Who’s this then?” he said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you recognize her? I figured you knew everything about my life seeing as you’ve been watching me for the past few months.”

  “Look,” he said with an irritated sigh. “We don’t have all night. If you want to waste all our time arguing, then have at it. It won’t get you any closer to clearing your name though.”

  “Speaking of that, I need to stop somewhere on the way,” I said.

  He gave me a look that would make most men tremble in their graves. “At two o’clock in the morning?”

  “Yeah, I just need to pop into Bubbles & Trouble for a few minutes.”

  He blinked at me. “I feel like you’re not understanding the severity of your situation. If we don’t find who really killed Baker, the coven will lock you away for the rest of your life. So, no. We can’t go on a bar crawl through Boston’s supernatural drinking holes. This isn’t some kind of joy ride. We’re going to Slayerville now, or we’re not going at all.”

  A chill went through me. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Dorian’s help, and he seemed two seconds away from walking away from this. Alice’s husband could wait a little longer. I’d just have to stop by the warlock bar tomorrow night instead.

  “I’m coming with,” Laura said when he turned to go.

  “You can’t be serious.” He frowned at me. “This wasn’t part of the deal. We’re walking into vamp territory, Zoe. I can’t babysit the two of you.”

  Irritation flashed within me. Babysit? Yeah, I wasn’t letting him get away with that one. “Laura can hold her own. And so can I.”

  “You know what? Fine. I can’t stand around arguing about this all night.” He pointed a finger at Laura. “The second things go sideways, do whatever I say.” He turned to me. “You too, Zoe. I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. And half the people in that club are going to want nothing more than to suck you dry.”

  I shivered, despite my resolution to look strong and capable in front of Dorian. I didn’t want him to see that his words had gotten to me, but they had. As big as I liked to talk, I was only a novice witch, and most of the spells I knew were defensive. I didn’t know many specialized runes for bone mages, and the ones I did know, I had trouble casting. The powerful spells. The ones that could hit an enemy where it hurt.

  Sure, I could levitate some inanimate objects, but nothing too heavy, and I still couldn’t force them to fly quickly through the air.

  And, unfortunately, vampires could move faster than sound.

  The three of us stood outside of the booming club. A long line of patrons clad in red and black ensembles snaked down the city block as they waited to enter the black double doors. Two men guarded the entrance, their arms crossed over their bulky chests. From their pale skin to their reddened eyes, it was more than clear they were vampires.

  Not everyone who went to Slayerville was a vampire, of course. Just like witches and warlocks, their numbers had diminished over the years. The Daywalkers fought beside us in the war and experienced heavy losses just like we did. In the end, our side won, and there’d been a shaky peace between vampires and mages ever since. Because when it came down to it, the Daywalkers didn’t want demons overrunning the world any more than we did.

  But that didn’t stop them from craving human blood.

  Truthfully, their cravings were probably why they joined us in the fight. More demons meant fewer humans, and fewer humans meant the Daywalkers could kiss their immortality goodbye. Because unlike Nosferatu, they had to feed in order to keep their supernatural powers. If they didn’t consume blood, they’d be just as human as everyone else.

  “So…”
I said, glancing up at Dorian. “Plan? Should we draw some runes before we go inside?”

  “No runes inside their premises. That’s against our alliance.” he said quietly. “Once we’re inside, just follow my lead.”

  “And how the hell do you expect to get us inside?” Laura shivered in her Patty Smith t-shirt when a light breeze ruffled her long streaked hair. “The line is at least a hundred people long.”

  “Wait here,” he said.

  Dorian left us on the sidewalk, and we watched as he strode up to the bouncers and said something we were unable to hear under the pulsing bass drifting out of the club. The bouncers gave a nod, moving aside to unclip the red rope that blocked the entrance.

  “What the hell?” Laura murmured under her breath. “How did he get them to agree to that?”

  I shook my head, wondering the same damn thing. He seemed to excel at convincing people to do anything he asked, and I was beginning to wonder if there was a darker reason for that. “Maybe he’s casting some kind of spell.”

  “Isn’t he an Enforcer though? That shit’s against the coven laws.”

  There weren’t many things that set off the coven’s radars. Most witches and warlocks had a pretty laissez-faire attitude when it came to the ethical side of magic. Unlike in the human world, there were only three laws to govern what we could and couldn’t do. Don’t use magic to kill, torture, or control. If Dorian was somehow using his powers to convince people to do his bidding, then he was doing it against the coven’s laws. As an Enforcer, he’d know that better than anyone.

  “Either way, it means we get to skip the line,” I said as he waved us over to the double doors.

  Once inside, it was impossible not to gape at everything and everyone around us. I’d only ever heard rumors about Slayerville, never quite brave or stupid enough to try to get in myself. Sure, Laura and I had whispered about it when we were teenagers, pretending that we’d really try it one Saturday night just for kicks. But we never did.

  It was everything I’d imagined and more.

  Seductive, bass-heavy music thumped loud in the expansive warehouse, pulsing so hard that I could feel the rhythm through the soles of my boots. Red velvet curtains were draped across the walls, making the steel interior look as though it was washed in blood. A thick cloud of sweet sandalwood incense hung heavy in the air, a scent that was laced with sweat, iron, and burning wood.

  We passed a cluster of large cages that hung from the ceiling. Inside, scantily-clad men and women writhed to the music. I couldn’t tell whether or not they were vampires, not under the clownish makeup caked to their skin and the bright purple contacts that made their eyes look animalistic rather than human.

  Laura slowed as we passed a leather couch where two female vampires were wrapped in an embrace, kissing with a passion I’d never experienced myself. Laura’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted. A human girl was with them, maybe college-aged, with curly red hair and freckled skin. She dropped her head to the side, and the vampires sunk their teeth into her tender neck. Within seconds, the girl’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned, writhing in pleasure and pain. Laura shifted closer, almost like she was being pulled toward them by an invisible magnetic force.

  “Laura,” I said, stopping to grab her arm. “Let’s go.”

  We could do nothing to stop them feeding on the humans they had here. Another part of our alliance.

  Swallowing hard, she nodded and began to move her feet again. We followed Dorian to the bar, a wide and curving mahogany table that was manned by a vampire sporting horns. Fake horns, that is. Or so I hoped. Still, I found it impossibly creepy.

  “What can I get you?” he asked with a nod when we slid up to the bar.

  “We need to ask you a few questions about someone who may have been a regular here,” Dorian said, pulling his phone from his jeans. This time, I noticed, he opted to keep his federal badge hidden away. “A man named Jeffrey Baker. I have his photo here.”

  Dorian flipped his phone across the counter, showing the bartender an old image of a solemn Jeffrey Baker. He didn’t look like the kind of guy to get caught up with vampires. Hair thinning at the temples, clothes in desperate need of an upgrade. He looked like someone’s cheesy uncle, not a man who wanted to trade his soul for immortality.

  The bartender flicked his gaze down at the photo and then back up at us, his expression betraying nothing. “I might have seen the guy. But my time ain’t free. You’ll need to order first if you want me to talk.”

  With a frown, Dorian nodded. “Three of whatever it will take to get the information.”

  The bartender’s smile became a Cheshire Cat sized grin, and I couldn’t help but shiver. That look did not exactly quell my unease about being in a club full of vampires. He turned to make the drinks, pouring and mixing and shaking at least a dozen different ingredients together. When he finally handed us our drinks, he threw out his palm, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together. “That’ll be forty dollars.”

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dorian said.

  “These bad boys are ten dollars each,” the bartender said, pointing at a sign that was propped up on the bar. The drink in question was called the Cloud Red, and it did in fact cost ten ridiculous dollars. “The other ten dollars is for my tip.”

  Dorian threw the cash on the bar. “There. Now, what do you know about Baker?”

  “Is he always this grumpy?” the bartender turned toward me as I lifted the drink to my lips. The cloudy red liquid was sweet and bitter at the same time, almost like a Long Island Iced Tea.

  “Seems that way,” I said. “I’m pretty sure he sets his asshole dial on maximum.”

  A low growl emitted from Dorian’s throat. It felt good to get a shot in. He’d been driving me crazy ever since he’d popped into my life the night before, and it was about damn time he got a taste of his own bitter medicine.

  “Anyway, your friend comes in here a lot.” The bartender leaned forward to speak over the thumping base, his horns shifting precariously on his head. “Normally I wouldn’t recognize a random human, but this guy has been to the club at least twenty times. Maybe more.”

  I took another sip of my drink, the liquid shooting sharp spikes of heat through my stomach. It felt weird and good at the same time, and I had to wonder how much of this was laced with some kind of vampire magic elixir. I’d never tasted those myself, but I’d heard of them. Elixirs that would cause all your inhibitions to get tossed into the wind. Probably not a great idea for me to be drinking it in a vampire bar.

  Dorian’s voice rumbled as he spoke to the bartender, and I swiveled my head to gaze up at his face. The rest of the bar fell away as my eyes drank in his strong jaw, the intensity of his eyes, and the aura of power and danger that flowed from his ripped body. My heartbeat quickened, and my pulse thrummed in my throat. Fingers aching with the need to reach out and touch him, I—

  Shit. Blinking hard, I glanced away. This vampire brew was going straight to my head. I set the glass back onto the counter and wrinkled my nose, hoping Dorian hadn’t noticed.

  But he hadn’t. He was far too focused on the task at hand, like always. “Who did Baker usually come here with?”

  “He came alone,” the bartender said, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s one of them, if you know what I mean.”

  Dorian nodded, but I didn’t have a clue what he was referring to.

  “One of what?” I asked.

  “Blood bags. Yummy, yummy blood bags.” The bartender opened his mouth, and two sharp teeth protruded from his gums. Startled, I took a step back. “They like to get sucked off, though not the way most men do.”

  Heat filled my cheeks, and I had to glance away. That reminded me of another rumor I’d heard about vampires. Their attitude toward sex, and the way they craved it, was a lot different than ours. More…intense, to say the least. When a vampire wanted someone, they really, really wanted them, and nothing could
satiate their need until the conquest was made. Might explain my ridiculous reaction to their drink. They’d clearly put thoughts into my head that I normally wouldn’t have.

  “We’re going to need some names,” Dorian said just as stony as ever, clearly not as ruffled by the bartender’s words as I was. “Did he have any regular feeders? Anyone who particularly liked his taste?”

  Dorian talked as if he knew more about the vampire world than most people. And, I guessed, he would. As an Enforcer, he’d be tasked with keeping the uneasy alliance between the two supernatural communities. And he would have been briefed on the various components of their world, which made me wonder how much the Daywalkers knew about ours, too. Did they have a task force just like we did? And if they did, were they watching us now?

  The bartender narrowed his eyes and pulled back, his horns lifting high toward the ceiling. It made him seem a lot more intimidating than he’d been two seconds before, and my heartbeat picked up speed. “What’s this about anyway? If I tell you who he runs with, are you going to cause some trouble?”

  “No trouble. All I’m going to do is ask some questions,” Dorian said, holding up his hands. “I just want to find out what he’s been up to in here. See if he did anything to catch the attention of the wrong people. Then, we’ll be on our way.”

  “Hmm, I see. Well, before you do that, you might want to be aware that your little friend is the one who caught the attention of the wrong people.” The bartender pointed behind us, his face transforming into a knowing smirk. “Though, I have to say, she looks like she’s enjoying it.”

  I whirled on my feet and discovered that Laura was no longer by my side. Her empty glass sat sideways on the ground by my feet, and my eyes lifted to find her halfway across the club. She was spread out on the laps of the two vampire women we spotted on the way inside, her eyes closed, her mouth open wide.

  And their fangs were sunk into her neck.

  Chapter 7