Mike paused at the first door on his left. He tried it, and it opened easily. He glanced through it, noticing it was a catwalk to the DJ booth. He shut the door. The men wouldn’t have gone there.
He went to the right, and tried that door. Locked. Mike spelled it open. He realized that the door opened inward. He opened it, and found himself looking out on the dance floor.
He felt a sudden urge to duck.
He crouched, and heard the unmistakable sound of wood hitting the door frame. He lashed out with his elbow, connecting with someone’s solar plexus. The wind rushed out of the man with a grunt, and Mike rolled his body into the man’s legs. The person tottered, the piece of wood fell from his hands and clattered to the dance floor below. No one heard it over the music.
Mike grabbed the person in the crouch. There was nothing to grab a hold of. He looked up to see a woman, her long black hair tied in a pony tail. Her eyes were glowing red, and her fangs had dropped. She hissed at him, as Mike summoned up a fireball.
The woman saw it, her eyes went wide. Mike held the ball of fire loosely in his hand as he scuttled backward like a crab. “Now, we can do this nice and easy, or I can burn the place down. What’s your choice?”
The woman hissed again and dove at Mike. Just as Mike was going to let loose with the fireball, a chain wrapped around her neck and yanked her backwards. She slid along the floor to land at Jack’s feet. “Sorry I’m late, boss,” he said. “Had to take care of a straggler.”
“Careful,” Mike said, getting up, using the wall as a guide. He kept an eye on the woman, who was clawing at the chain around her neck. Her neck smoked with the heat of the hell-forged chain. “She’s a vamp.”
“Really,” said Jack, holding the chain tighter. The chain tightened around the woman’s neck. She was gasping for air instinctively, but she didn’t need to breathe, not if she was a vampire. Mike realized she must be newly turned.
Mike squashed the fireball and went over to the woman. “Calm down,” he said. “Calm down and let’s talk.”
She held onto the chain and glared at him, her red eyes glowing with fury.
“That’s good. Who are you?”
“Lacey,” she croaked. “Let me go.”
“Not yet. Why were you going to hit me?”
“Tomas said to keep an eye out if anyone followed him.”
“Is Tomas the owner of this joint?”
“No. Lazarus is.” She got a dreamy look on her face for a moment, before focusing on Mike, and her face turned to fury again.
“Lazarus, huh?” Mike nodded to Jack.
“You sure you want me to let her go?”
“I’m sure.” He snapped his fingers and a gout of flame appeared in his right hand, burning white. Lacey shielded her eyes from it. Jack let the chain go, and it flowed back into the bracelet around his wrist. “Where’s Lazarus now?”
“He left for the week. He’ll be back.”
“Do you know who I am?”
She tilted her head. “Should I?”
“I son’t know. I guess you don’t. I wonder if Tomas does. Or Lazarus.”
“Wait, yeah, I remember you.” She bent down and said in a crackly voice, “You guys lost?”
“It was you,” said Mike, his eyes narrowing.
She only looked up at him and grinned, the fangs still out. “I was going to feast on you but that big kid wouldn’t let us near you. And he wouldn’t bleed.”
“He’s tough that way. Where’s his stuff?”
“Tossed it in the gutter. Except his ring. We gave it to Shelly.”
“Who’s Shelly?”
“You ask too many questions,” came a voice behind Mike. He turned to see the man from the loft area, with a few other men behind him, all of them training guns of all sorts on Mike.
