Bad Luck, Baby

17 - Bad Vibes

Tobin babbled on about the club as he led me downstairs, outside, and around the back of the building to a plain metal door sunk below street level by a short flight of concrete steps. He stopped and banged on it, and it opened to reveal a very tall woman wearing a leather jacket who looked like she could break me in two with one hand. Behind her, I saw only darkness, and a chill crawled up my spine.

She nodded at Tobin and glanced at me. Tobin took my hand, careful not to squeeze too hard, and she nodded again and let us through.

Reluctantly, I followed Tobin across the threshold, and felt a pocket of cold, dense air press on me from every side. Abruptly, as if stepping into another world, we emerged into a dark room bursting with loud music and strobing lights. I realized the doorway was spelled to keep the noise of the club contained.

Everything was black, red, or silver, the music throbbed with a low bass I could almost feel in my bones, and colored lights flickered and splashed over a large room packed with a dense, pressing crowd. Clusters of luxurious, lounge-style seating rimmed the periphery, a stage with a massive sound system and DJ station took up one wall, and a long, sleek bar took up another. The middle space was clear for dancing, and the whole place hummed with a thrill of dark energy—of risk, and sex, danger and seduction.

It gave me bad vibes, in other words, and a pit of unease opened in my stomach as the noise and lights overwhelmed my senses. I took a step back and bumped into Tobin. He caught my upper arms and shouted something near my ear, but I couldn't catch the words. A tingle of panic itched across my chest, and I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

I could do this. I'd been practicing all day without success, but now that the need was real, it was easier to find my center and envision myself protected by a bubble of pink light.

The music faded a little, and when I opened my eyes, I found the press of bodies and the strobing lights more tolerable. I could hear Tobin, too.

"You okay?" he shouted, and I winced.

"Yes—fine."

He grinned, relieved. "Great! I gotta get on stage. Here—" he pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into my bandaged palm. It looked like a large gold coin stamped with a pentagram. "Give that to Riga." He pointed to the bar. "Free drinks!"

Then he winked and disappeared through the crowd. A moment later, I saw him climb on stage and take his place at the DJ station. The crowd seemed to recognize him and gave a loud cheer, and then he put a pair of large headphones on, and the music changed.

I stood without moving for several minutes, just watching. Janelle and Ro had indicated that Fangs catered to a supernatural crowd, but I couldn't discern anything inhuman among the throng. The people dancing seemed to range in age from roughly twenty to forty, most were provocatively dressed, and all seemed to be having a good time. Couples and small groups chatted and laughed on the sofas, and some lounged in more intimate poses. A few were putting on quite a display.

Part of me wanted to inch quietly towards the door and disappear up to my room, but another part felt perversely defiant. Why shouldn't I be here? If this was my world now, then this is where I belonged.

Straightening my spine with another deep breath, I picked my way through the crowd to the bar. I didn't really want a drink, but it was something to do besides stand awkwardly in one place, imitating a piece of furniture.

The woman tending the bar was short, with wiry hair and lots of piercings. I set the coin on the polished black countertop, and she looked me up and down appraisingly.

"What'll it be?" she asked.

I cleared my throat. "Um... a soda water... with lemon, please."

She raised her studded brows at me but made no comment. She turned away, made my drink, and set a tall glass of ice-cold sparkling water on the bar.