Once we were back at the lair, we cleaned and patched everyone up. This mainly involved the witch. Unlike us, she was unable to recover quickly once we were in the clear. She had been struck unconscious by whatever that old woman had conjured. The witch would be the only one who actually knew what it was. All we can do is speculate from whence it came and how long its residual power lasts. She could be out for hours. Maybe even days.
Kara was in the library. Coincidentally, she was poring over her dark arts and esoteric literature. After making sure Sonya and Chad were able to square up the witch as she rested, I went to see Kara. I wanted to find out if she could provide any insight on what we had encountered. Could she predict how long our unwanted houseguest might remain in her current condition?
Nothing she had was able to offer any enlightenment. Not yet, at least. The new book I had given her held many amazing things we might use one day, but it had to be translated. It must be translated very carefully.
Doing this kind of work is not the same as general translation. It is much like the English language: several types of slang and variations exist. This depends on where and when something was written. If someone from Dublin writes a book, and someone from, say, Wisconsin, reads it without knowing the local slang and vernacular, they will read something completely different. A person from Georgia or Alabama would have yet another interpretation.
Words like "boot" and "fag" can mean many things. If the wrong intent is applied to a word because the understanding is wrong, you could have disastrous outcomes. Or zero outcome at all. I will not rush Kara. I will only inform her of our current situation so she can infer the urgency of her work on her own. It will take time. It is clear we are going to need as much support as we can get.
With that said, we are going to need some foot soldiers.
I could tether the minds of the patrons of the club. But there's a major drawback: if one of them were to get hit hard enough to "ring their bell," it would sever the link. They would flee, or even worse, change sides. If I were hit, it could sever the link on everyone, with a much worse outcome.
We do have an extended vampire family, but the majority of them are self-serving. They would only help us if there was something in it for them. They have little interest in money or sex—things they can get easily. Power is all I could offer. And I do not have enough of that to buy their service.
We do have an understanding with the local street gang that controls this area. The leaders are fully aware of who and what I am. We have an arrangement: if they do not sell, kill, or do anything "out of school" in or around my club, my family will agree not to kill, drink, or turn any of their members. I decided to contact them to set up a meeting. I need to renegotiate our terms. I am sure they will be open to what I have to offer.
In the meantime, I decided to head to the east side of the city. Several of the clubs over there are owned by glamour vamps. They are vampires who wear sunglasses inside at night and sport bleached-white animal furs and pink eyeshadow. They are vamps who see themselves as movie stars. All they actually do is sleep and lord the power they have over humans. Their clubs are pop culture clubs. Anything that is mainstream popular, they try to act like they were always into it. They pretend everyone else is just posturing.
After 50 Shades came out, they even tried to copy my club's style. I ignored it. I knew that in a week, they would move on to the next foolish trend. They do have a much larger family than we do, but they seem to die off very fast. They never age long enough to come into their true power. They are always beneath us as far as the influence of the night goes.
They have made offers to buy my club several times. They have been wanting to move their business to the west side for years. I have never given them an inch.
I am thinking now would be a good time to see what kind of influence I can wield over them. It has been several decades since I last visited any club they run. The club I am headed for is the one the family head tends to frequent the most: a neon pink and blue place called Genders... I know. Playcation to a cringe level!
"Genders" has a "look at me" feel. It is the kind of place where people who never seem to get enough attention from mommy like to frequent. When you first walk in, everyone inside looks like they are attending a music video wrap party.
The head of a vampire family is lovingly referred to as "Dark Father." The glamour vamps are led by Joe-ell. I have no idea if that was the name he was given at birth or if he picked it for himself after his rebirth; neither would surprise me.
The place feels more like a bowling alley that had the lanes removed for a dance floor. The bar is hidden on the left side of the place. If you did not know it was there, it does not stick out. How is that for a place that makes its profits selling alcohol? There are tables set up between the bar and the dance floor where ball returns once were. The far end of the place, where the last few bowling lanes would be, is all roped off and lit up like a crime scene. That is where the elites of the family sit.
Joe-ell and his ilk were sitting there. They look like Ken dolls—not even dolls that had come to life. They look just as useless and plastic as the actual toys. Joe-ell was wearing black sneakers with pink trim, leather shorts, a mink cut-off, long-sleeve coat, and sunglasses. The kind Elvis would have worn later in his career. Chomping on gum, he motioned for me to join him once he saw who I was.
"SEXY REXY!" he yelled over the music. "My god, where have you been hiding yourself?"
I shook his hand. "I can not recall. Looks like you are making a name for yourself."
"Oh, honey, my name has made itself. I wake up and have to fight to stay this humble!" he said, still chewing his cud. He stuck out his arm, palm up, and continued, "Sit, sit, sit, make yourself comfy. What can we get for you? Anything you want tonight is on me. Drinks, drugs, party favors, girls, BOYS." His voice dropped several octaves at the end.
"I do not want to take up too much of your time here," I said, letting him know I did not plan to stay long.
"Nonsense, you stay as long as you want, my dear brother in blood. Pleasure or degrade yourself as much as you like. Vodka still your drink, precious? Leon, get this man a Martini."
"Gin," I told him, as Leon turned back to confirm my request.
"OOhhh, gin! Just when I thought my little Sexy Rex could not get any more dirty, he throws a curveball at me," he said with mischief in his eyes.
"I am actually here on business," I conveyed my intent.
"I like how that sounds. Let me guess, you want to retire down south and you need to sell your place before you go. This is going to be a good night," he said with absolute confidence.
I continued, "At the moment, Joe-ell, no. I am not going anywhere. That is the reason I am here. Earlier tonight, my girls and I ran into a coven of witches."
Joe-ell cut me off, "An oven full of witches? That also sounds like it could be a fun night."
I smiled at his dad joke and pushed past: "This coven came from nowhere, it seems. At least one of them has power far beyond any regular witches around here. I am giving you a heads-up. One of them blew my driver off his feet and took out one of their own. There is a better than slim chance they will show up in the city. They probably do not know who I am, so there is a chance they could end up looking for me here. I want you to be ready for that. I would hate for you to catch a stake that has my name on it."
"Oh, Rex, I have zero problem getting penetrated because of you. I think we have even role-played that one once or twice," he laughed, attempting to make me feel uneasy.
I stood up to leave as Leon handed me the drink. I took a respectable drink and set it on the table in front of Joe-ell. I leaned over and put one hand on his fuzzy white shoulder. I leaned in to tell him, "This coven is no joke, my friend. Watch yourself and your nest. I would hate for your glowing wonderland to end up as rubble because you thought these witches were the same as the others that pop up around here. Take care, Joe, I will see myself out."
The look on his face shifted from flirtatious to serious. He nodded his head. As I was walking away, Joe-ell yelled over the music, "You should invite me to one of those little rooms at your club! I am a bottom, but I can be versatile." Knowing that was for his benefit more than actually wanting to be invited, I just kept walking until I got to the door and exited.
Such a weird vampire. Great sense of humor.
I made my way to my car and got in. Chad was not with me this time. I like to drive. I miss driving. When I have things like this to do, I give Chad some free time to do whatever it is that Chad does at home.
As I drove away, I had a weird shiver run down my spine. I do not remember ever feeling that since I was turned. Vampires have mild precognition. What I just felt was NOT that. It was like someone just walked on my coffin.
Anyway, I turned onto the main road and began my voyage back to my side of town. The creatures who feel at home in the shadows stay here. I really hope Joe-ell takes my advice to heart. I did as much as I could do for him. The rest is up to him now.
I got a text from Sonya. My meeting with the "Shadow Lords," the street gang that controls our neighborhood, is set for tomorrow at midnight. At the moment, everything seems to be going according to plan.
Tomorrow, I will have to visit someone I have not been looking forward to. It is not so much that I do not like this woman. It is more the fact I have an issue with the race. Normally, I have little issue with the race of an individual. Vampire and Were-people have had a long-standing issue with each other. The one good thing about cats is that they hate witches far more than they hate vampires. Witches like to use familiars in their work and daily life. More times than not, they like to use cats. The top prize when it comes to stealing a cat's mind and using it to your own ends is the Were-cat. Some witches even like to ride them. That is the ultimate humiliation in the eyes of Were-people. I completely understand why. If you want to ride someone in the privacy of your own house or even conceptually out in public, fine, but making someone do that against their will? Slavery is what it really is.