Read Online Wicked Deeds by Jenika Snow - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenika Snow
Tags: General Fiction
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There’s this little cafe on the corner of Bourbon and Amsted called Claret. It’s a small establishment that is rumored to be a portal to another dimension. Do I believe in such rubbish? Why not? I live in a world where vampires walk beside me on the street, serve me beer at the local bar, even do my hair at the beauty salon. They are supposedly myth and lore, fabled monsters straight from a movie or dream, but they are my reality.
I knew people who had been to mythical and occult establishments, had listened to them rant and rave about the exquisite creatures that played there. None of it had interested me until now. I don’t know what it was, but something inside of me snapped, as if a beast had been lying dormant within my body this whole time and was clawing its way out. I wanted to be wild—reckless, even—but most of all I just wanted something unusual and out of the norm. I feared if I didn’t change something, I would end up being an old woman, trapped in my house, isolated from the world around me. I was sick of my monotonous and arid life. That was actually my worst fear—aloneness and sequestration.
I usually keep to myself, spending time at the “mortal” clubs and bars in my area. One night, while I sat at my usual hangout spot, I decided to visit the elusive and mysterious supernatural bar, Claret. I didn’t actually know anyone who had gone there, but I assumed one preternatural place was as good as the next. It was on the rougher side of town, but I was tough, having lived in downtown Denver for more years than I cared to admit. I knew I could handle myself.
On the night I worked up the nerve to go to the club, the weather was unusually cold for a summer evening. The wind whipped by me as if it were angry at the world and sought vengeance. I decided to wear something casual, hoping I could draw the least amount of attention to myself and hopefully go unnoticed. I wanted to observe what the hype was all about, wanted to be intangible, covert, even. The closer I got to the small building, the more the tension in my body tightened. It was as if my inner self knew that where I was going was perilous, portentous.
I shivered, not because of the chilled air, but because of the anticipation and trepidation that coursed through me. My adrenaline was pumping through my bloodstream, giving me the kind of excitement and high only the unknown can bring. My heels clicked against the pavement, the sound seeming thunderous compared to everything around me.
I slowed my pace as the tiny building I sought out came into focus. It really wasn’t anything spectacular, and if you didn’t know what it was, or who was within its walls, you would pass it by without notice. Thick, gray stone slabs created a cottage dwelling, the scarred, narrow door plain and dull in appearance. Standing next to the tall, modern buildings in the city, Claret seemed out of place, from a completely different era.
I walked across the street and stopped in front of the door, tilting my head and taking in every nook, every cranny of the club. I slipped my hand from the warm cocoon of my pocket and reached for the handle. The metal was icy against my flesh as I gripped the circular knob and pushed the door open. The wood swung open soundlessly, and at first I couldn’t hear anything, but the smell of cloves and hyacinth was potent as it assaulted my senses. I stepped fully inside, looking around the barren room. Strewn tables and chairs littered the ground. Dust was a thick layer atop the bar counter, a testament that no life had been present for eons.
I knew I was in the right place, but the fact that it was clear no one had been here for quite some time was a truth that I couldn’t deny. Even with the bar’s appearance, I still couldn’t get over the intense, aromatic scents that assaulted me. I expected a moldy, murky aroma, not the pleasing, relaxing scents that seemed to slip into my cells. I idly ran my finger over the leg of an
I knew people who had been to mythical and occult establishments, had listened to them rant and rave about the exquisite creatures that played there. None of it had interested me until now. I don’t know what it was, but something inside of me snapped, as if a beast had been lying dormant within my body this whole time and was clawing its way out. I wanted to be wild—reckless, even—but most of all I just wanted something unusual and out of the norm. I feared if I didn’t change something, I would end up being an old woman, trapped in my house, isolated from the world around me. I was sick of my monotonous and arid life. That was actually my worst fear—aloneness and sequestration.
I usually keep to myself, spending time at the “mortal” clubs and bars in my area. One night, while I sat at my usual hangout spot, I decided to visit the elusive and mysterious supernatural bar, Claret. I didn’t actually know anyone who had gone there, but I assumed one preternatural place was as good as the next. It was on the rougher side of town, but I was tough, having lived in downtown Denver for more years than I cared to admit. I knew I could handle myself.
On the night I worked up the nerve to go to the club, the weather was unusually cold for a summer evening. The wind whipped by me as if it were angry at the world and sought vengeance. I decided to wear something casual, hoping I could draw the least amount of attention to myself and hopefully go unnoticed. I wanted to observe what the hype was all about, wanted to be intangible, covert, even. The closer I got to the small building, the more the tension in my body tightened. It was as if my inner self knew that where I was going was perilous, portentous.
I shivered, not because of the chilled air, but because of the anticipation and trepidation that coursed through me. My adrenaline was pumping through my bloodstream, giving me the kind of excitement and high only the unknown can bring. My heels clicked against the pavement, the sound seeming thunderous compared to everything around me.
I slowed my pace as the tiny building I sought out came into focus. It really wasn’t anything spectacular, and if you didn’t know what it was, or who was within its walls, you would pass it by without notice. Thick, gray stone slabs created a cottage dwelling, the scarred, narrow door plain and dull in appearance. Standing next to the tall, modern buildings in the city, Claret seemed out of place, from a completely different era.
I walked across the street and stopped in front of the door, tilting my head and taking in every nook, every cranny of the club. I slipped my hand from the warm cocoon of my pocket and reached for the handle. The metal was icy against my flesh as I gripped the circular knob and pushed the door open. The wood swung open soundlessly, and at first I couldn’t hear anything, but the smell of cloves and hyacinth was potent as it assaulted my senses. I stepped fully inside, looking around the barren room. Strewn tables and chairs littered the ground. Dust was a thick layer atop the bar counter, a testament that no life had been present for eons.
I knew I was in the right place, but the fact that it was clear no one had been here for quite some time was a truth that I couldn’t deny. Even with the bar’s appearance, I still couldn’t get over the intense, aromatic scents that assaulted me. I expected a moldy, murky aroma, not the pleasing, relaxing scents that seemed to slip into my cells. I idly ran my finger over the leg of an
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