I follow Darrell to a small table near the front, and I try to quickly scope everything out before taking a seat. Along with the door we came through, there’s one behind the bar, probably leading to a kitchen, and a third on the side wall, and it’s labeled as the emergency exit. There are rooms behind the stage, of course, and who knows where that leads.
Only seconds after we’re seated, a cocktail waitress who must double as a stripper on stage brings us complimentary glasses of champagne. Darrell drinks his down and I look inside my glass for any sort of remnants of a pill not yet dissolved. I don’t see any, but I don’t risk drinking it.
Darrell gets right into it, pointing to each girl and telling me their names and their special talents on the stage. He keeps elbowing me, telling me not to be shy and to relax and enjoy myself.Lives are at stake. Lives are at stake.
“Come on, Emma.” He slides the flute of champagne in front of me, sloshing some down the side. “Drink and have a good time.” If he doesn’t shut the fuck up,hislife is going to be at stake.
A large group of women come in, here to celebrate a bachelorette party. Darrell is way too excited about it and I can tell he’s debating leaving me to go socialize with them. They look more his type, at least.
A male stripper comes out next, to appease the bride, no doubt. He’s tall and muscular, with weird-looking tattoos all over his dark skin. Could he be my vamp? I sit up straighter and lean in.
“Ahh, you see something you like.” Darrell laughs to cover up his disdain. “I’m not surprised. Joe gets all the ladies.”
“His name is Joe?”
“I don’t think it’s his real name,” Darrell explains. “He hardly speaks any English.”
Ding-ding-ding, we have a winner. Would it be too much to get a lap dance from this guy solely so I can smell him? I bet he’d make me pay extra for that.
“I need to use the ladies’ room.” I stand, keeping my purse close to my body, and look around. I don’t really have to go, but I need to get a closer look at the stripper, and one more minute with Darrell might lead me to becoming a murderer myself.
“By the bar,” Darrell says, fishing a dollar bill from his pocket. I take my drink with me, dropping it in a trash barrel as I walk by. Joe leaps off the stage, making the bachelorette partygoers scream and squeal. I slow to watch him go to the bride, thrust his hips in her face a few times, and then take her hand, leading her up onto the stage.
She’s a pretty girl, wearing a black and red corset that squeezes her already thin torso. Laughing, she sits in the wooden chair on the stage and holds up a handful of cash. Joe takes it, then drops it behind him, seemingly uninterested. Lights from the stage reflect off his eyes. It’s hazy in here already from the smoke, making it hard to discern if there’s something off about his eyes or if that reddish hint is from the red and pink lights flashing above him.
I go around a table, headed for the ladies’ room. And then I see her, one of the tight-leather-dress girls, wobbling through the back of this place to the private rooms. She’s drunk, hanging all over the guy and laughing loudly as she trips, hardly able to talk anymore. He slips his arm around her, nervously looking around.
Vampire or not, the guy’s a creep. She’s obviously had too much, and even if he’s not planning on drinking her blood, I’m willing to bet my badge on him not getting consent for anything he’s about to do.
I hurry down the hall after them, and my stupid heels catch on the carpet. I throw out my hand to catch myself, but me tripping over my own fucking feet doesn’t go unnoticed.
The guy dragging tight-leather-dress girl jerks his head back, startled. The lights flash, reflecting off his eyes like an animal in headlights. For a split second, he just stares at me, and then he starts forward again, probably assuming I’m just another drunk girl who can’t walk a straight line to save her life. He picks up his pace, needing to practically lift the drunk girl off the ground so she can keep up.
I’m narrowing in, planning on pulling my badge from my purse and having him arrested for sexual assault. And then I smell it, and it’s getting stronger and stronger the closer I get to the private rooms.
Sulfur.
15
Ifreeze, eyes going wide. My heart skips a beat, and every muscle inside me twitches in response. I want to run after him. I want to pull tight-leather-dress girl from his arms and bring her back to safety. I want to hit him hard in the face, harder in the dick, and end this once and for all.
But I can’t.
Because I know from the strong smell of sulfur coming from the looming room in front of me, he’s not the only vampire here. I went up against three vampires before and didn’t make it. I promised I wouldn’t take my chances, and I’m not even prepared. If I go in that room, there’s a good chance I’ll never come back out.
I lean against the wall and let out a breath, trying to stay calm and think clearly. I need a plan, and fast. Who knows what’s going to go on behind closed doors. Either way, I’m sure it won’t be in tight-leather-dress girl’s favor. She’ll be assaulted and violated in at least one way, and I cannot stand here and let that happen.
I’m not a betting person, but I’m willing to bet at least ninety percent of the people here at Delirium are humans. The bar is known for being dark, sexy, and obscure. Not murderous or dangerous. Reputation is important for places like this, but I don’t think that’s enough to work in my favor. I’m in the basement moving farther and farther away from the majority of the patrons.
The music is loud. Loud enough to drown out screams.
Taking another breath, I push off the wall, cursing the stupid heels, and move swiftly down the hall. It ends in a T, and they go to the left. I pause, slowly inching forward to see what I’m walking into. To my right is an exit that I’m guessing leads to the alley out back. To my left—and the way the vampire and tight-leather-dress girl went—is another hall. The lights are low and there are several doors on each side.
Low moaning comes from behind the closest door, followed by the distinct sound of an ass getting smacked.
“Harder, baby,” a muffled male voice cries. Someone’s ass gets smacked again and the moaning ensues. The door to room number five shuts and I continue down the hall, trying to see if the smell of sulfur is coming from one specific room.
It seems to be coming from all of them.
