Finally, he seems satisfied. He retreats to the back of my mind and lets me focus on what’s ahead.
We drive for one hour, then the car pulls up to a modern building that looks almost like a spaceship – all curved lines and reflective surfaces. Garret holds the door for me, then leads me toward the main entrance. The doors slide open, and I see two guards waiting for us. They seem to be human. They pat me down professionally, though I don’t know what they expect to find. When they’re done, Garrett places his hand on my lower back and guides me inside.
Right on cue, Zeth bristles again, but mercifully, he doesn’t do anything stupid. Except making my skin crawl at Garret’s touch…
Music pounds from speakers I can’t see. The building is a massive multi-level club space, and there are people everywhere, dancing and drinking, a lot of them doing drugs openly. Humans and monsters mix together. Strobe lights flash, and smoke machines create a hazy atmosphere. The bar runs the length of one wall, with three bartenders working. Private booths linethe upper levels, accessed by staircases. Some people are having sex in semi-private corners, others are passed out or too high to remember what planet they’re on. The energy is chaotic and dangerous, and for the hundredth time, I’m glad I’m not doing this mission alone.
Garret leads me toward the stairs, and we climb to the second level, which holds several private rooms. We stop before a dragon’s maw that acts as a door, and Garret knows I’m in shock because he waits for me to recover. When I look at him, there’s a grin playing on his lips. I can’t tell whether he’s proud of his boss’s display of opulence or he thinks it’s ridiculous.
“So, the Kyzers think of themselves as dragons?”Zeth comments in my head.
I want to scoff out loud but keep my face neutral.
We walk through the dragon’s mouth onto a private terrace that overlooks the city. It’s protected by glass walls, and the furniture is modern and sparse. Couches are arranged in the middle of the space, in a circle around a fire pit. There are low tables filled with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
Four men occupy the couches, three younger and the fourth older, in his seventies, though he looks brilliant for his age.
Roman Kyzer jumps to his feet when he sees me. His smile is warm and his arms spread wide, and I do my best not to flinch when he approaches me. He is fake as hell, and I’m not going to match his energy.
“There she is!”
He rushes over and throws his arm around my waist possessively, then pushes me forward toward the others.
What happens next gives me the impression that it’s rehearsed. Roman nods at Garret, Garret nods at the two guards standing by the dragon’s maw, and they disappear only to come back moments later carrying the three crates that I know containthe Crimson Haze I cooked. They are wrapped in paper and have red bows on top. I do my best not to roll my eyes.
“Dad, I found a chemist for you,” Roman says in the brightest tone he can muster. “This is Wren Hayes, and she’s amazing. Better than our previous chemist.”
The old man he addresses has snow white hair, a well-groomed beard, and dark eyes that reveal nothing. He’s wearing an expensive suit, gold rings on his fingers, and a watch that probably costs more than a car. He regards me with a cold, assessing stare, and I force myself to hold his gaze, though all I want to do is look away and make myself small until he loses interest.
After several long minutes, the corner of his mouth lifts in a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He nods at the empty couch next to him.
“Sit.”
I obey, and Roman sits beside me, too close. The other two men are watching us with increasing interest, and I note that they’re slightly older than Roman, maybe in their thirties. One has dark hair and sharp features, the other has lighter hair and a broader build.
The boss lifts a glass of champagne.
“Welcome, Wren, to the business. I am Viktor Kyzer.” He gestures to the men I’ve just been studying. “These are my sons, Lucien and Cesar. You’ve met Roman, of course.”
Roman grins beside me, clearly pleased with himself.
Viktor looks at the crates with the red bows.
“Roman, what is this?”
“Well, you know… Happy birthday, Dad. Wren and the Crimson Haze she cooked this past week she’s been with us are my gift to you.”
Viktor takes a drink of his champagne and flicks his hand at Garret.
“Let’s see it, then.”
Garrett opens one of the crates. He pulls out a single vial of Crimson Haze, the deep red liquid glowing mesmerizingly in the firelight. He passes it to Roman, who passes it to Viktor with a flourish.
Viktor takes the vial and turns it in his fingers. He uncorks it slowly and brings it to his nose, closes his eyes and inhales deeply. His face transforms, a hint of pleasure crossing his cold features.
“Remarkable.”
He passes the vial to Lucien, who sniffs it, looks surprised, and passes it to Cesar. Cesar does the same. The two brothers exchange a glance, then lean close to whisper to each other.
