He nodded to the stairs. “We go upstairs.” He took me by the hand, and we made our way up the metal stairway, which shook with every step we took. The air sank colder the higher we got, which didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t warm air supposed to rise?
At the top of the stairs, there was a door; a red door
—the color of blood—which seemed like an omen or something. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stay warm as Laylen opened the blood-red door.
Instantly, the smells of smoke, rust, and sweat swirled all around me.
“Stay close to me,” Laylen whispered, and we stepped through the doorway and out onto a balcony.
I had no problem with staying close to him—I was already clinging to him like a scared little child.
Below the balcony, a room opened up packed with tables, chairs, and lots and lots of people. Black Angel’s, “Young Men Dead,” was blasting through the speakers. The lights were low, and the air was heavy with smoke.
We started to make our way down the stairs, the metal railing pressing cold against my skin as I held on to it. Looking down at the room, I didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, like I’d expected to. People were just sitting at tables, drinking, talking, and smoking. But as we got closer, I realized that most of the crystal glasses were filled with a deep red liquid, which I assumed was blood.
I tried hard not to stare at anyone as we walked across the room—I swear I did. But as we passed by the tables, it felt like everyone’s eyes locked on me.
That’s when I noticed some of these “people” had fangs pointing sharply from their mouths.
Laylen wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer to him, which brought me some comfort, but not much. We went up to the bar that was in the heart of the room, and Laylen tapped his hand on the glass countertop. “What’s up, stranger,” he said to a woman, who was wiping down the countertops.
The woman looked at us and her brown eyes lit up.
“Well, hello stranger, to you too.” She had a slight southern accent, and her dark hair ran down her back in dreads. She was dressed like a biker chic; in steeled toed boots, leather pants, and a rhinestone-decorated tank top. A vine tattoo cuffed each of her wrists.
She leaned over the counter and gave Laylen a small kiss on the cheek. “It’s been awhile. What ya been up to?”
“Nothing much, really. Just the usual trouble,” he said, teasing her with a smile. The woman glanced at me, and then Laylen looked at me. “Oh, Gemma, this is Taven.”
“Hi,” I said, trying not to sound as anxious as I felt.
She stared at me with an intrigued look. “Nice to meet ya, sweetie.” She raised her eyebrows at Laylen. “Finally picked yourself up a human, huh?” I felt Laylen tense up beside me. “Yeah…something like that.”
Taven smiled, giving me a glimpse of her fangs. I tried not to flinch.
“So I need to see Vladislav,” Laylen told Taven. “Is there any way you could buzz me in?”
She gave him a curious look. “Depends on what ya need him for?”
Laylen let his arm fall off my back, and rested both of his arms on the counter as he leaned in toward Taven, keeping his voice low. “I need to speak to him about The Underworld.”
Taven’s expression fell. “You’re not in any trouble, are ya?
He shook his head. “No. It’s nothing like that. I just have a question to ask him.”
“Okay.” She relaxed. “Hold on just a second and I’ll check to make sure ya’ll can go in.”
Laylen moved his arms away from the counter while Taven picked up a phone. She muttered a few words into the receiver and then hung up.
“Alright,” she said, turning back to Laylen and me.
“Go on ahead and go in.”
“Thanks,” Laylen said with a nod.
As we turned to walk away, I noticed Taven give a very distinct look at my eyes, and I tensed up. Back in Colorado, when Alex and I had gone into town, he’d been worried that my eye color would give me away.
He’d also mentioned that word might have spread about me carrying the star’s energy, and that my violet eyes would make it easy for someone to identify me.
What if word had gotten around? What if these vampires we were going to meet knew what I was?
Crap.
I glanced around anxiously, wondering if I should say something to Laylen. If I did, though, I might get overheard. I mean, for all I knew vampires could have super hearing powers.
“What’s up?” Laylen whispered in my ear as we ducked underneath the stairwell. “You seem nervous.
Is it just this place? Or is it something else?” I swallowed hard. “No, I’m fine,” I lied, figuring it wasn’t worth the risk of bringing it up on the chance I might get overheard. “Can we just hurry? It’s getting really cold.”
He nodded. “But try to relax, okay? They’ll pick up that you’re nervous?”
Great. “Okay.”
We started down a long, narrow hallway with walls the same blood-red color as the door. Halfway down the hall, we passed by two very big men dressed in black suits that looked like bodyguards, neither of which acknowledge our presence. We kept walking, the music from the bar fading and fading the further down we went.
When we reached the end of the hall, there was a door made of metal so shiny I could see my reflection in it.
“Okay, try to stay as calm as possible, no matter what happens” Laylen told me, before knocking on the door.
Try to stay calm no matter what? What exactly was I about to walk into? Something bad, I could feel it in my bones. But I guess all I could hope for now was that, in the end, I would find out my mom was alive.
And that there was a way to free her.
Laylen waited a moment, before knocking on the door again. I heard several clicking’s of latches being unturned and then the door cracked open.
“What do you want?” Someone snarled through the crack.
“I’m here to talk to Vladislav,” Laylen said, and the door shut.
I shot Laylen a puzzled look and he put his finger to his lips, signaling at me to keep quiet. A second later the door opened, and smoke rushed out so quickly, I had to choke back a cough. A man stood on the other side of the door, his hair all greasy, and his skin was as pale as snow.
His fangs pointed out like knives. “Please, come in.”
I almost shut my eyes as we entered the room in a pathetic attempt to try and hide their violet color. But then my brain turned on, and I realized how stupid and suspicious I’d look walking around with my eyes closed.
A long rectangular table stretched down the center of the room, which was surrounded by leather chairs, each one of the chairs holding a man that had fangs sticking out of their mouths. They were playing a game of poker and smoking cigars. Standing behind some of the men, were women, bounded up in old fashion corset dresses. The women looked fangless and I wondered if they could be human.
My heart thumped so loudly in my chest that I swear everyone could probably hear it. The only thing I really had going for me was that it wasn’t as cold in here, but the stench of cigar smoke was killing me.
Laylen approached the table with confidence, dragging a very unconfident me along with him. Right as we reached the table, though, a fight broke out between two men. Both of them jumped to their feet, baring their fangs at one another.
“You’re cheating,” a bald man with a stubby body growled. “I know you are.”
“You better not being accusing me of nothing.” The other man bit back and a lizard-like tongue slipped out of his mouth.
My jaw dropped to the floor, and I started to turn for the door, but Laylen caught me by the arm, and shook his head, warning me to stay calm.
“Easy boys.” A man sitting at the head of the table rose to his feet. He had dark hair, black eyes, and pale skin. The room went silent and the men who’d been arguing, slid back down in their chairs. “We have guests,” he said and looked at Laylen and me.