Melanie was the one who taught me most of the histories and family trees. She’d been forced to study it all herself in the decade and a half before I came along. My mind stumbled when I landed on a memory of Melanie reading to me from a large leather-bound volume of family trees. Her dark curls fell over her face as she read out loud. She was always so serious and dutiful about the tasks handed down from our father. When had that changed? We’d changed places somewhere along the way. She was free and I was the one stuck, living at our father’s beck and call.
We entered the city and Matthias drove to an abandoned garage where a portal existed for cars to go back and forth between the human world and the haven. The yellow and black caution barricade was busted, likely done by the same people responsible for the graffiti tags and broken windows on the old toll-taking booth. No one was around, and if someone happened to walk by, they would probably assume we were lost tourists, pulling over to fight with the GPS system on a rogue rental car.
Matthias rolled down the window, punched in a code, and the rickety arm of the barricade shuttered and lifted. He rolled forward and the garage swallowed the SUV.
“I swear, that never gets less creepy,” I told him when we emerged on a brightly lit street on the other side.
A large, ironwork sign hung above us: Welcome to the New York Haven. Established 1892.
“So, where do you go for a good drink around here?” I asked.
“I know a spot.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?” I asked.
He flashed a grin. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“I see. You’re one of those people.”
Matthias laughed. “Just trust me.”
I sighed and relaxed back, though I’d noticed my shoulders were still tensed.
No one had called me. There’d been no update on Jupiter or any news about the grisly scene in my bedroom the night before. Before leaving the condo, I’d dialed the mansion, but was told Lord Vaughn was unavailable. I’ll just bet. I knew he was keeping me in the dark on purpose. As long as I was out of his way and somewhere he deemed safe, he didn’t see a need to involve me.
We drove for another fifteen minutes, eventually entering into one of the garages that led to the underground vampire transit tunnels. As night had fallen, the tunnels were no longer necessary for travel and were mostly empty. Occasionally we passed another vehicle. Matthias took a right turn at a fork in the road and pulled to a smooth stop before a large gate. He rolled down his window and punched a code into a black box. No obvious signage hung above the iron bars. Where were we?
A green light flashed, accompanied by a robotic voice. “Welcome, Mr. Hartford and guest.”
Matthias remained silent. The gate swung open.
“What is this?” I asked when he’d rolled up the window again.
“Shade,” he replied. “It’s a vampire club.”
I must have looked surprised, because he cracked a smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a vampire club before.”
I furrowed my brows. “Of course I have. I just didn’t expect you to be a card-carrying member of one, that’s all.”
“Guess you don’t have me all figured out, huh?”
“Apparently not.”
Still-grinning, he pulled forward and we entered another underground parking lot. He took a right and cruised down a lane where all of the spaces were numbered. Seconds later, he swung into 15.
“Frequent flier, huh?” I asked, removing my seat belt.
Matthias shrugged. “A few times a week.”
“Drinks that good?”
He chuckled and turned off the engine. “It’s the one place my mother refuses to come looking when she wants something.”
I bit out a laugh. “Oh.”
We exited and Matthias waited for me at the rear bumper of the car. I glanced down at myself, taking inventory of my jeans and long-sleeve sweater. “I’m not exactly wearing club attire.”
“You’ll be fine,” Matthias replied, reaching toward me. He placed a hand at the small of my back and guided me forward. Normally, I’d twist a guy’s arm off just for trying that particular move, but decided to give Matthias a pass.
For the time being, at least.
Chapter 11
A doorman waited at the entrance of the club. He was dressed like an extra from the set of The Matrix in a long black trench coat and black pants. A silver chain hung around his neck, and the amount of gel he’d used to slick his dark hair back had to have been stunning. A pair of silver aviator frames perched on the end of his sharp nose. He didn’t say a word, but nodded at us as he pulled open the red door.
Matthias, his hand still on my back, ushered me inside the hallway. The red walls were dotted with sconces that radiated pale purple light.
“Trying a little too hard, aren’t they?” I whispered, frowning at the pattern on the walls. “Is that velvet damask?”
The horror.
“I have no idea,” Matthias said, not pausing to offer his own assessment of the tacky wallpaper.
“I mean really, who are we meeting, Lady Marmalade?”
He ignored me and continued propelling me forward, deeper into the club. At the end of the hallway, we breezed past a thick curtain—more velvet—and stepped into a large room. The music that had only been a faint hum in the hall was louder, but not to a deafening degree. How refreshing. A club where ordering a drink didn’t require straining your vocal cords.
A square bar occupied the majority of the space, swarming with the happy hour crowd. Three bartenders, all wearing varying degrees of the same sci-fi ensemble as the doorman, worked together with fluid precision. I watched them serving up a group of college-aged girls with an almost artistic synchronization.
Tables and booths were arranged to the left of the central bar. To the right, a large dance floor and a DJ platform with go-go cages flanked either side. The DJ station was unoccupied, the pop beats coming through the speakers from some kind of playlist. It wasn’t my style of music, but it wasn’t intolerable.
“Come on,” Matthias said, giving me a gentle nudge. “Let’s get a table.”
We crossed the room and took a booth in the far corner. Along the way, Matthias flagged a passing server, who fell into step behind us. We took our seats and ordered a bottle of premium faux infused with some kind of liquor. I didn’t usually add anything to my synthetic, but I made an exception. A little buzz wouldn’t hurt me and I would have to drink a lot to manage anything more than a little warm and fuzzy.
As we waited for our drinks, I glanced around the club. “So, what is it that drives your mother away?” I pointed at the ceiling. “Is it the music? The atmosphere? The—” I paused, lifting an eyebrow as a scantily-clad woman walked by our table, “—dress code?”
Matthias, to his credit, didn’t linger on the woman. Instead, he shrugged. “A combo, I’d imagine. We own this club, actually. She just refuses to come here.”
“The Hartfords own this place?”
“Technically, we own a share. But it’s a large enough majority that it’s not much of a difference,” Matthias answered. “The building became vacant three years ago and I was supposed to sell it. As I’m sure you know, my family works in real estate. Commercial, primarily.”
I nodded.
“Anyway, I was having trouble selling the building, but I had a couple of friends who were looking to start a place like this. We made a deal. I brokered a lease and invested some of my own money to get it open. Originally, it was about half this size, but it took off like wildfire. Nine months after the doors opened, the place was bursting at the seams. I talked my mother into letting the family business invest in the expansion, and she agreed.”
I smiled at him. “That negotiating power you mentioned.”
“Yeah. Although, she regrets it now. Investing can be addicting. After this deal was so successful, I started branching out more and more on my own ventures. I started working as a venture capitalist, working on new business ideas. Turns out, I’m good at choosing winners. Eventually, the goal is to start my own investment firm.”
“And your mother doesn’t want you to leave the family business.”
Matthias’s lips formed a firm line. He shook his head. “She doesn’t appreciate that things are changing. Technology and magic are blending. More and more supernaturals are abandoning the havens. The legacy vampires think it’s a fad, not a trend. They don’t think it will last. That eventually the novelty of the human world will wear off and the havens will fill up again.”
“Sounds like my father,” I added.