“Only when we’ve shifted into wolf form. The rest of the time, vamps are stronger and faster.” Silas eyed the dark doorway. “Is this the only way?”
“There are other passageways to Club Cabal, but they take longer. Believe me, once we’re down there, you’ll thank me for choosing the shortest route.” Her sword, Nightshade, ignited. Its purple glow illuminated a cobwebbed staircase that spiraled toward the gates of hell for all Silas could see.
“You were saying something about going first?” He swallowed hard and moved aside to allow her to pass.
“These passageways connect businesses all over the city,” Grateful said as she descended. “They were built by humans during prohibition to smuggle moonshine. The vampires learned to feed on the smugglers. Bootleggers were less likely to complain to the authorities when one or two of their kind went missing. Doing so would give away their illicit activities.”
“Great. So basically that rusty fetid scent is, in fact, dried human blood.”
“Do yourself a favor and don’t look too closely at the walls.”
“Too late.” Silas turned his gaze away from the scratch marks in the stone. At some point in the past, someone had wanted out of this tunnel bad enough to try to claw their way through solid rock.
“So how’s Lucas?”
“He’s walking now. That’s normal for a one-year-old. The floating, not so much.”
“Floating?”
“Right out of his crib. We’ve had to pad his room.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You know how human babies are using a spoon at this age? Maybe saying dada?”
“Yeah…”
“Imagine if instead they could start the walls on fire or make a million roaches pour from the pipes.”
“No.”
“Yes. He has quite the temper and an ever-growing grasp of his power. Rick and I are trying to teach him control, but I think he’s too young to understand what he’s doing. If he uses his magic without permission, he gets a time-out.”
“Has to sit in the corner, huh?”
She glanced sheepishly in his direction. “In my attic. It’s the only place that’s safe.”
Silas grunted. “You don’t leave him up there?”
“No! Not alone. One of us is always with him, and he likes to play with Poe. But I’m not gonna lie. The kid spends a lot of time up there. I don’t know how I’m going to do it with two.” She sighed heavily.
“You’ll do fine. You’re a great mom. And hey, about the attic, ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Can’t have the little tike raising the dead or anything.” He laughed.
She chuckled briefly before her smile melted into a more concerned expression.
“I hear music,” Silas said.
“We’re almost there.”
They reached a set of stairs that led to another door, this one newly painted. A much different series of scents tickled Silas’s nose: the spicy tang of cologne, alcohol, cigar smoke, and the musk of desire. A cool jazz tune grew louder as Grateful opened a door at the end of the corridor.
They entered a speakeasy lifted straight out of the 1920s. Waitresses milled through the crowd in flapper dresses and bobbed hairstyles. Red velvet fabric contrasted dark wood furniture and mirrored walls. A dance floor was surrounded by a few dozen tightly spaced cocktail tables, each laden with guests dressed to the fang in jewels and couture. One face turned toward them, then another, until the entire establishment was staring at Grateful.
The music stopped, appalled expressions on the band member’s faces. Fangs dropped. A female ran for the back exit.
“What are they staring at?” Silas whispered. “Is it because you’re pregnant?”
“No. It’s because I could end them in a heartbeat.” Grateful sheathed Nightshade and held up her hands. “I’m looking for Julius,” she said in a loud, clear voice.
