Hades (10 page)

“Pride is one of our most popular clubs,” Jake explained.

“And it’s the only way in. Shal we?” He indicated via a

courtly flourish that I should walk ahead of him, but my legs

seemed rooted to the spot and refused to cooperate. Jake

was forced to take my arm and escort me. The fog cleared

to reveal a young man and woman standing outside the

doors. The woman was insect thin, pale, and dressed in

nothing but sequined black shorts, a leather bra, and the

highest platform shoes I’d ever seen. Fine silver chains

hung via silver hooks from her bra down to her navel,

creating a mesh curtain in front of her torso. Her platinum

blond hair was cropped short, and a cigarette hung from

black painted lips. I was surprised to see the young man

was even more heavily made up than his female

counterpart. His eyes were boldly outlined and there was

black polish on his nails. He wore a leather vest over a bare

chest and checkered pants that tapered at his ankles.

Piercings were visible on every body part exposed. The

woman traced the outline of her lips suggestively with the

tip of her tongue on which I could see a silver stud. Her

eyes had a hungry look as they traveled over my body.

“Wel , wel ,” she purred as we approached the entrance.

“Look what the cat dragged in. It’s a glow-in-the-dark dol .”

“Good evening, Larissa … El iott.” Jake’s greeting was

acknowledged by a silent and simultaneous inclination of

heads.

El iott smirked and cast an approving glance in Jake’s

direction. “Seems someone took something that didn’t

belong to them.”

Jake’s face broke into a gloating smile. “Oh, I think she

belongs to me.”

“Wel , she certainly does now.” Larissa’s laugh was low

and guttural. She’d outlined her eyes so the liner curved

upward, giving her a feline look.

The way they talked about me as if I weren’t there was

unsettling. It made me feel like some kind of trophy. If I had

been less disoriented, I might have expressed my

disapproval. Instead, I asked the only question that sprang

to mind and my voice came out sounding childish and waif-

like.

“Who are you?”

El iott clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “She obviously

don’t get out much.” That made me angry.

“It’s real y none of your business!” I retorted, causing the

pair to break into peals of laughter.

“She’s entertaining, as wel ,” commented Larissa. They

cocked their heads and continued to study me with an

unsettling intensity. “What else can she do?”

“Oh, just the usual,” I snapped back angrily. “Backflips,

knife throwing, that sort of thing.”

Jake sighed with sudden boredom. “Can we move this

along, please?”

Larissa shrugged obligingly and bent down to look me

directly in the eye. “You wanna know who we are, dol

face?” she asked. “We’re the door bitches.”

“Excuse me?” I was taken aback.

“We man the entrance. Nobody gets in or out without our

say-so.”

“But seeing as you’re a VIP,” El iott jibed, “you can go

right on in or should I say
down
?” The pair shared a

conspiratorial chuckle.

“And what if I don’t want to?” I said defiantly.

El iott raised a quizzical eyebrow and waved his hand

vaguely behind me. “Honey, can you see any place else to

go?”

I had to admit he was right. Surrounding the al eyway was

nothing but an oppressive swirling blackness, the kind that

looked capable of devouring you. There was only one path

with one door at the end of it. Only one direction any of us

could take. As much as the idea of going through those

doors made me feel queasy, I knew it couldn’t be as

dangerous as wandering through the blackness alone. I

didn’t know who or what was out there. I stil didn’t even

know where I was. I felt Jake’s warm breath behind my ear.

“You’l be fine,” he murmured. “I’l look after you.” It was

strange how they al waited to see what my decision would

be. As if I actual y had a choice.

I squared my shoulders and stepped forward with

bravado I didn’t feel.

Larissa bared her teeth in a smile before grabbing a tight

hold of my wrist and turning it upward. Her grip was cold

and claw-like, but I tried not to flinch. She held my wrist

faceup as El iott pressed something down on the inside. I

braced myself to feel pain, but when I looked, he’d only left

an inky imprint behind. It was a stamp of admittance in the

form of a smiley face.

Larissa pressed a buzzer and the heavy doors slid open.

Jake ushered me into a vast carpeted foyer where flights of

narrow corkscrew steps veered like a labyrinth in several

directions. There was no time for closer inspection as he

steered me swiftly toward the central steps. The pumping

music grew louder once we started our descent

underground. The sound was so overpowering that I looked

hesitantly back toward the open door. Larissa appeared to

read my mind.

“Too late to change your mind, sweetheart,” she said.

“Welcome to our world.”

Then she slid the heavy doors shut behind us.

I fol owed Jake down the narrow stairwel until it led to an

open dance floor, where a throng of bodies was pressed

together, fists pumping the air and heads thrashing to the

beat. The dance floor was a checkerboard of colored lights

flashing on and off. I was surprised to see people of al

ages on it. The sinewy, leather-clad limbs of the elderly

contrasted sharply with the firm, exposed flesh of youth. I

was startled to see a few children there too. They had the

designated task of clearing the tables and refil ing drinks.

The one thing that united them al —young and old alike—

was the vacant expression they shared. It was as if they

were only physical y present and some vital part of them

had been erased. They were like sleepwalkers, consumed

by mechanical movements that were only interrupted long

enough to down another shot of liquor. Occasional y under

the masklike faces I detected a darting eye or nervous

flicker, as if something dire were coming. The track playing

was a computerized dance number made up of a single

line that was repeated continual y: “I’m in Miami, bitch.”

Light flashed across the polished concrete floor, casting

shadows across the bodies moving in sync with the

rhythmic beat. The mingled scent of cigarettes, spirits, and

perfume was overwhelming.

I’d never stepped inside a club before so I had no point

of comparison, but it looked surreal to me. The ceiling was

il uminated by a myriad of tiny lights and the wal s were

lined with red velvet so they looked like upright couches.

Scattered around the perimeters of the room were white

cubes that served as tables, as wel as low velvet couches

that looked battered and wel used. The tables had glowing,

cone-shaped lamps on them and the bar that wound around

one side of the club had been crafted to simulate the

appearance of molten lava. Around the bar loitered black-

suited security guards stonily nursing their drinks. A

striking-looking woman behind the bar juggled shot glasses

and threw bottles with the dexterity of a circus performer.

Her wool y ringlets, flecked with gold, surrounded her face

like a mane and she wore a figurehugging red bandage

dress with brass armbands. An asp tattoo wound its way up

the burnished dark skin of her throat. She watched us

distractedly and didn’t avert her gaze even when someone

ordered a drink.

As Jake and I inched our way through the press of

bodies, the crowd parted to make way for us. They never

stopped dancing, but their eyes fol owed our every move.

When someone reached out a tentative hand to touch me,

Jake made a low, hissing sound and threw a lethal look.

The

onlooker’s

curiosity

shriveled

instantly.

Jake

acknowledged the barmaid with a formal nod that she

doubtful y returned.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asked. He had to shout

over the music to be heard.

“I don’t want a drink. I just want to know where I am.”

“You’re not in Kansas anymore.” Jake chuckled at his

own joke. I had a sudden urge to make him listen—to see

how frightened I was.

“Jake,” I insisted, grabbing his arm. “I don’t like it here. I

want to leave. Please take me home.” Jake looked so

taken aback by my touch he didn’t answer right away.

“You must be very tired,” he said final y. “How insensitive

of me not to notice. Of course I’l take you home.” He

signaled to two bearlike men who were standing at the bar

in black suits and sunglasses, which looked absurd given

we were in a dimly lit club underground.

“This young lady is my guest. Take her to Hotel

Ambrosia,” Jake instructed. “Make sure she’s safely

delivered to the executive wing on the top floor. They’re

expecting her.”

“Wait, where are you going?” I cal ed out.

Jake directed his smoldering gaze at me and smirked,

seeming to enjoy my dependence on him.

“I have some business to attend to,” he said. “But don’t

worry, they’l take care you.” He glanced at the bodyguards.

“Their lives depend on it.”

The guards’ vacant expressions didn’t alter, but they

nodded almost imperceptibly. Then I found myself

enveloped by rockhard muscle as they shepherded me out

of the club, roughly shoving aside dancers that got in our

way.

Back in the underground lobby I peered past my escorts

to see that Pride was only one of several clubs that wove

their way underground like catacombs. From the murky

depths of one stairwel I could hear muffled moans and

soon two men in suits emerged dragging a disheveled-

looking girl with a tear-stained face. She wore a lacy corset

and a denim skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs.

Her struggle to free herself from their vise-like grip was

futile. When her eyes met mine, I saw terror in her face.

Instinctively I took a step forward, but my move was

intercepted by one of the guards.

I brushed them off and tried to sound casual, doing my

best rendition of the way the girls at school spoke. “What’s

up with her?” I figured the more alarmed I appeared, the

less information I’d be given.

“By the look of it she just ran out of luck,” replied one

guard while the other punched numbers into his cel phone

and muttered our location to the person on the receiving

end.

“Luck?” I parroted.

“In the gaming room?” he replied as if the answer to my

question was patently obvious.

“Where are they taking her?” This time he merely shook

his head in disbelief at my ignorance and walked me

toward a long car with tinted windows that had pul ed up

outside the club. It was strange to see a car indoors, but the

underground tunnels, I realized, were wide enough to fit two

cars side by side and were meant to serve as roads. The

rear door was opened for me and the guards slid in on

either side so I was ensconced between their bulky forms.

The smel of cigar smoke clung to them.

We drove for a while through the winding tunnel that

seemed to spiral into nowhere. Wandering partygoers

shuffled out of the way when they saw us coming. Once we

moved away from the club district I noticed that these

people didn’t seem to be celebrating. They drifted

aimlessly around with staring eyes and vacant faces like

the living dead. Looking at them closer, I saw their skin had

a grayish tinge to it.

Final y at the end of a steep tunnel we came to a

towering building that had perhaps been white, but had now

faded to the color of yel owed parchment. It must have been

at least twenty stories high and classical in style with plaster

scrol s above the windows.

Revolving doors led us into a vast and opulent lobby. The

hotel was designed so the rooms on every floor overlooked

the lobby, giving the effect of looking up into a maze. The

showpiece of the lobby was a curtain of tiny fairy lights. It

hung from ceiling to floor il uminating a central marble