Lucille shakes his hand. “I’ll try to help as much as I can, but I have to tell you. I think you’re on a wild goose chase. Have you considered the possibility that your friends are indeed just on an extended vacation? Aces Underground and Rouge Montrose tend to bring out the impulsive side in people.”
“I hope that’s the case.” Harrison offers me his arm. “Come on, Bianca.”
29
HARRISON
“Welcome to MINOS,” an extremely thin, jittery man wearing a dark suit and sneakers with wings painted on the sides greets us after I pay him the cover. “Have you been with us before?”
“Can’t say that we have,” Bianca replies.
The thin man grins. “I am Herman. You’ll need one of our bracelets to traverse the labyrinth.”
Bianca gulps. “The labyrinth?”
“It isn’t too tricky to navigate, but we always recommend first-timers use the bracelet. Here.” He crosses the room and removes two glowing golden bracelets off hooks on the wall. “These will glow brighter the closer you get to the dance floor. The farther away you are, the dimmer. Pretty self-explanatory.”
I grab two bracelets, slip one around Bianca’s wrist, and then my own. I nod to Herman. “Thank you. Just down this hall?”
“Yes,” Herman says, gesturing. “And don’t be afraid to lose yourself…only to find yourself again!”
I suppress an eye roll as I grab Bianca’s hand and we head down the labyrinth. Inside is a mix of flashing lights and mirrored walls. There are no guardrails, of course, and the texture of the floor under us shifts quite a bit. At first it’s regular floor tiles, and then soft foam, and then dirt, and finally sand that crunches underneath our feet. We meet several dead ends, each one painted with a terrifying tapestry of some horrible beast—a lion, a boar, a three-headed dog.
Finally our bracelets glow vibrantly as we make our way to the dance floor where the DJ is wearing a black matte mask with two long horns and a wide snout. People around him are bumping and grinding to EDM beats while a strobe light flashes to the rhythm of the music.
I turn to Bianca. “Who’s our contact here?”
“Zebulon Minos. He’s the original owner of the club, and Rouge bought it from him a while back. But she kept him on as second-in-command.” Bianca looks around and her eyebrows twitch. “There he is now.”
I look over. Zebulon Minos is a middle-aged man with a mane of long silver hair framing a wide, chiseled face. The strobe light bounces off a gold medallion etched with a lightning bolt, and he’s wearing an eggshell blazer with similar patterns running down the sleeves. He’s a solid man with an extremely broad build.
We walk over, and his eyes widen as he sees Bianca. “Miss Montrose. I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure of your presence here at MINOS.”
She extends her hand. “I thought it was time I checked out some of my sister’s other clubs. We just came from the Noir Parlor.”
“Wonderful.” Zebulon shakes her hand. “How is Lucie doing?”
“Just fine.” Bianca glances over her shoulders. “Is there somewhere we could speak privately? I have a matter of some urgency to discuss regarding my sister.”
Zebulon widens his eyes. “What about your sister?”
“We’d rather not discuss it here,” I interrupt. “It’s sensitive.”
“I assure you I know nothing about Rouge Montrose except that she owns the club and checks in weekly,” Zebulon says quickly, a vein bulging in his thick neck.
Yeah, he’s hiding something. He doesn’t want us to know what he knows.
“Please, Mr. Minos,” I say quietly. “I assure you we can make this worth your while.”
He blinks several times. “You mean money?”
“Not necessarily,” Bianca says. “But we believe that my sister may be engaging in some illegal activities. If she is removed from her position as head of this club, I have the power to ensure that the ownership will return to you.”
Zebulon strokes his beard. “That would be nice. I don’t hate what Rouge did to update this place, but I do miss overseeing everything.” He frowns. “But still, I don’t think I have any information that would be of any value to you.”
I nod. “Let’s just chat then. If nothing you say is helpful to us, then no harm done. My girlfriend and I will have simply had a wonderful night at your club.”
Bianca’s eyes widen at my use of the word “girlfriend.” I didn’t mean to use it. I referred to her as my friend at the Noir Parlor.
