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Authors: Marcus Pelegrimas
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right?” Cole asked.
“Yeah. Why do you think he looks so pissed off?”
He was still laughing at that when the side door was opened by a shapely redhead dressed in flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt cut to show about a millimeter of her smooth, flat stomach. Since she was a nymph, she made that ensemble look better than ice cream on top of a freshly heated brownie. “Hi guys, come on in.”
“Hello, Kate,” Cole said, fondly remembering her instantly, even though it had been more than seven months since he laid eyes on her. If only for that reason, it seemed like a harsh winter. The nymph smiled and stepped aside, allowing the Skinners to enter the club as another set of stomping footsteps rushed to meet them.
“You are not welcome here!” Christov said. He was flanked by two young bouncers who looked just as disheveled as he did. Between the three of them, they probably hadn’t gotten more than twenty minutes sleep since squaring away the club after the previous night’s business.
“We’re only passing through,” Paige said.
“Then why can’t you do it during business hours, eh?” Although bloodshot, his eyes were sharp enough to gleam after waggling back and forth between Cole and Paige. “See? I don’t forget. Last time you came, it was to get information about a killer. The next night, my club is infected with the Mud Flu, my customers are tearing it to pieces, and monsters are kicking down my door.”
When Cole tried to interrupt, he was cut off by a swiftly upraised hand that moved as if to erase him from existence. “And,” Christov continued, “not long after that disaster, my beautiful club is closed down by the state health board.”
“But you got another one,” Paige said while extending her arms. “All is right with the world.”
“No! All is not right. I am still paying off debts I got while buying out former owner of this dump. Now I must try to build it up to something half as good as Bunn’s.”
“All we need is to talk with Kate here,” Paige said. “Then we’ll be gone.”
“Gone, as in . . .” Christov waggled his fingers in the same way he would to make a coin magically disappear from beneath a handkerchief.
“Right,” Paige said. “Gone like that.”
“What about your car? I’m not running some kind of garage.”
“It’s yours,” she told him. “Might want to check it over before you use it. It’s government issue but I doubt anyone will be looking for it.”
“Stolen?” Christov asked, a hint of admiration showing in his eyes.
“No, but strip it for parts, swap the plates, do whatever you like. If anyone comes around asking for it, tell them we stopped by to partake in the buffet and left it here for safekeeping.”
“There is still a buffet, right?” Cole asked.
“Of course,” Christov huffed. “What kind of a place you think I am running? Fine. Leave the car and have your talk with Kate. If you like, I can get you a drink on the house. Only one.”
“Pass on the drink,” Paige said as she stepped inside.
The wind seemed especially cold as it blew across Cole’s face. He turned his back to the outside world, walked inside and allowed the heavy door to slam shut behind him. The Emerald wasn’t a large club and it sure wasn’t a deluxe one. It was, however, much different than the last time he and Paige had been there. Apart from an additional stage, there was a longer bar, a larger section curtained off as a VIP area, and bigger speakers bolted to the ceiling. At the moment there was only a pair of smaller bouncers turning the chairs right side up in preparation for the lunch customers.
Kate and Christov had taken Paige to the storage room behind the bar. Although it was the same room that was used as a temporary Dryad temple a while ago, there had been plenty of changes since then. First of all, the walls, floor, and bar were covered with Dryad glyphs that were either painted or burned into surfaces until they looked as if
“Yeah. Why do you think he looks so pissed off?”
He was still laughing at that when the side door was opened by a shapely redhead dressed in flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt cut to show about a millimeter of her smooth, flat stomach. Since she was a nymph, she made that ensemble look better than ice cream on top of a freshly heated brownie. “Hi guys, come on in.”
“Hello, Kate,” Cole said, fondly remembering her instantly, even though it had been more than seven months since he laid eyes on her. If only for that reason, it seemed like a harsh winter. The nymph smiled and stepped aside, allowing the Skinners to enter the club as another set of stomping footsteps rushed to meet them.
“You are not welcome here!” Christov said. He was flanked by two young bouncers who looked just as disheveled as he did. Between the three of them, they probably hadn’t gotten more than twenty minutes sleep since squaring away the club after the previous night’s business.
“We’re only passing through,” Paige said.
“Then why can’t you do it during business hours, eh?” Although bloodshot, his eyes were sharp enough to gleam after waggling back and forth between Cole and Paige. “See? I don’t forget. Last time you came, it was to get information about a killer. The next night, my club is infected with the Mud Flu, my customers are tearing it to pieces, and monsters are kicking down my door.”
When Cole tried to interrupt, he was cut off by a swiftly upraised hand that moved as if to erase him from existence. “And,” Christov continued, “not long after that disaster, my beautiful club is closed down by the state health board.”
“But you got another one,” Paige said while extending her arms. “All is right with the world.”
“No! All is not right. I am still paying off debts I got while buying out former owner of this dump. Now I must try to build it up to something half as good as Bunn’s.”
“All we need is to talk with Kate here,” Paige said. “Then we’ll be gone.”
“Gone, as in . . .” Christov waggled his fingers in the same way he would to make a coin magically disappear from beneath a handkerchief.
“Right,” Paige said. “Gone like that.”
“What about your car? I’m not running some kind of garage.”
“It’s yours,” she told him. “Might want to check it over before you use it. It’s government issue but I doubt anyone will be looking for it.”
“Stolen?” Christov asked, a hint of admiration showing in his eyes.
“No, but strip it for parts, swap the plates, do whatever you like. If anyone comes around asking for it, tell them we stopped by to partake in the buffet and left it here for safekeeping.”
“There is still a buffet, right?” Cole asked.
“Of course,” Christov huffed. “What kind of a place you think I am running? Fine. Leave the car and have your talk with Kate. If you like, I can get you a drink on the house. Only one.”
“Pass on the drink,” Paige said as she stepped inside.
The wind seemed especially cold as it blew across Cole’s face. He turned his back to the outside world, walked inside and allowed the heavy door to slam shut behind him. The Emerald wasn’t a large club and it sure wasn’t a deluxe one. It was, however, much different than the last time he and Paige had been there. Apart from an additional stage, there was a longer bar, a larger section curtained off as a VIP area, and bigger speakers bolted to the ceiling. At the moment there was only a pair of smaller bouncers turning the chairs right side up in preparation for the lunch customers.
Kate and Christov had taken Paige to the storage room behind the bar. Although it was the same room that was used as a temporary Dryad temple a while ago, there had been plenty of changes since then. First of all, the walls, floor, and bar were covered with Dryad glyphs that were either painted or burned into surfaces until they looked as if
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