After leaving Grady's, Macey had gone with Chas to The Silver Chalice to make sure Sebastian hadn't returned. To their increasMax Dentons blooding concern, he hadn't. So she'd changed into clean, comfortable clothing, and she and her partner prepared themselves to venture into the den of vampires-a place known as The Blood Club.
Rather than call attention to herself by wearing men's clothing-which would have been very comfortable and provided excellent range of movement-Macey had chosen to wear a frock. But it was short and light of weight, and would allow her to be as active as she needed. No heeled Mary Janes for her tonight; she'd chosen comfortable flats for footwear, and without stockings that needed to be pulled up or kept in place with a garter.
"I don't expect you to keep coming after me, Chas. " Macey looked around. She didn't recognize the street they were on.
He gave her a dark look. "Obviously. " He gestured for her to turn the corner. "You can't see him again, you know. "
Not that Grady would want to see her again, even if she could. She gritted her teeth. "My private life is my business. "
He laughed. "Not when you're a Venator. Not when there are lives at stake. I told you-it's a hell of a lonely life. If you want. . . companionship, it has to be with someone who understands our world. "
"That sounds suspiciously like an invitation, Chas. "
"It's not-"
"And like someone sticking his nose somewhere it definitely doesn't belong. "
He shook his head and made a sound of disgust. "Have it your way. You're as stubborn as your father was. "
Macey faltered, but kept walking. "Stubborn. I wouldn't think that'd be a liability for a Venator. "
"There's stubborn, and then there's blindly stubborn. Max Denton made the tragic mistake of thinking he could have it all-a wife, a family, and a life as a Venator. And you know what happened. "
"My mother was killed. By the vampires. " And he sent me away. For the first time, Macey felt a twinge of sympathy for her absent father, a glimmer of understanding. She'd seen firsthand what violence the undead could visit upon someone she cared for. How much worse would it have been for him?
"They were unusually vicious and brutal with her. " Chas's voice was flat. "And Max. . . well, it might have been just as well he sent you away. For a number of reasons. And here we are. "
Macey looked up at the neat sign. Rico's Tailor Shop. "So this is where the Tutela congregates. "
"Among others. Those who are part of the society frequent this place, sure, but The Blood Club caters also to those who wish to dabble in the pleasures of the fanged. And it's a way for the undead to find their prey. Alvisi is the proprietor, and he runs it as slickly as Capone runs his saloons. He employs mortal and undead; text-indent: 18. 0px; font: 100% ""; min-height: 21. 0px} p. p, and 7V, men and women, in order to provide a wide range of entertainment. " He stopped. "It's best if we aren't seen together. I'll go first; you circle the block then come in. "
She nodded, for that was the plan they'd discussed. But when he went into Rico's, leaving her to continue on, she felt a spike of apprehension and fear. Walking into a den of vampires and vampire lovers was a daunting prospect.
But she was well prepared, with stakes and other tools hidden all over her person, and Chas would be there as well. Plus Temple had seemed confident her student was capable of protecting herself, and was actually eager to let Macey employ the skills she'd learned in the past weeks. Infiltrating The Blood Club was the best and easiest way to find out what had happened to Sebastian-for if he'd been abducted or killed, surely all of the undead and their Tutela would be talking about it.
Still. Macey had only staked one vampire. And her most recent experience-that horrifying interlude in the back of Iscariot's limousine-had left her shaken more than she wanted to admit. Not to mention the haunting sight of Mrs. Gutchinson's ruined body.
But when it was time for Macey to go inside Rico's and make her way into the dim club, she did so without hesitation. Even before she was inside, the icy chill at the back of her neck was nauseatingly strong, sending eerie prickles down her spine.
She curled her fingers around the small pocketbook that held nothing but a stake, a vial of holy water, and a few dollars for cab fare. The place was just as she'd pictured it: dim, smoky, and filled with tables of people. But there was the scent of blood in the air, and when she looked more carefully at some of the patrons in the booths, she saw kissing and sexual petting, as well as wrists and throats being fed upon. The facial expressions of the victims ranged from ecstatic to pained to bored. She didn't spot Chas yet.
"What a pleasant sight," said a voice next to her. "What brings such a lovely being in to The Blood Club tonight?"
Macey turned to see a young man with his hair slicked back, wearing a provocative smile. It took her a moment to confirm that he was a vampire-and that was fine with her. "It's my first time," she confessed, trying to appear wide-eyed and hesitant. "A friend of mine told me about it. She said the sensation is. . . "
Her voice trailed off as she noticed the man who could only be Count Alvisi. He sat at a small table that was surrounded by women, and he was deep in conversation with another man. His entourage of females were all dressed in blue with matching headdresses. Silver and white feathers erupted from the round, blue emblem on the front of each headband, and they were dusted with something glittery.
"Who's that?" she asked, suppressing a sickly shiver. Even from this distance, she could feel the strength of pure malevolence.
"That is the boss. "
Macey widened her eyes. "Oh. I thought. . . " She leaned closer, pitching her voice into a low whisper. "I thought Al Capone was the boss here. "
Her companion laughed in derision. "Capone? Not at all. In fact, Big Al has been angling to join us-for, you realize, he's nothing without his machine guns. Alvisi wields the true power in Chicago-power that will soon be greater than you can fathom. " He took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing them against it in a soft kiss. Soft, dry lips: one cold as ice, one warm, in an awful, strange sensation. When he looked up, his fangs were just barely visible and his eyes burned soft ruby, tugging at her with their thrall. "Perhaps you might someday be asked to join us. Alvisi prefers blondes, but he would likely make an exception for one as lovely as you. I'm certain I could convince him. And then you would be young and beautiful forever. "
"Oh. " Macey fluttered her lashes and tried to appear flattered. "Do you truly think so? He would make an exception for me? How would that happen?"
He tucked her hand around his arm. "Permit me to show you, my lovely. "