Dark Star, page 4
“Not to me,” Gabe said, glancing around and looking relaxed, which was deceiving. He was absolutely on full alert.
“It feels fine,” Shadow agreed. “Just a lot of people having a good time.”
“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way,” Harlan said, heading to the landing.
At his knock, the door that was marked Office was opened by another tall shifter with blond hair and astute eyes, dressed in what seemed to be their uniform of black jeans and a t-shirt with the Storm Moon logo on the front, and he stepped back, allowing them entry. As soon as the door shut behind them, the noise vanished, leaving them in a soundproofed room overlooking the club. A desk was at the far end next to a couple of filing cabinets, and a seating area was at the other, along with a small self-serve bar in the corner. A large window, which Shadow hadn’t noticed from the main room, looked out over the club. A couple of staff stood looking through it, while a man worked at the desk. All three stared at them as they entered.
The man behind the desk leaned back, his eyes wary, a smile playing across his lips as he studied all of them. “You must be Harlan Beckett and colleagues. I’m Maverick Hale.” He stood and walked around his desk to meet them, shaking their hands with a firm grip.
“Thanks for your time, Maverick,” Harlan said, introducing them.
Maverick appeared to be in his late thirties and was tall and lean with the athletic build of many shifters, and now Shadow knew what Maggie had meant when she’d sarcastically called him a rock star. He oozed self-confidence. His black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and powerful deltoids, and his thick, shoulder-length hair, which was a dirty-blond colour, had a slight curl to it. Shadow realised that Maverick was supremely aware of his power, but he didn’t try to overwhelm them, as many Alphas might. She liked that about him. He reminded her of Gabe in that respect. It was Gabe he studied most, perhaps because of his build and height. His eyes narrowed as he greeted him, and Shadow was pretty sure he detected something different that he couldn’t quite place.
Maverick gestured them to sit in the lounge area and headed to the bar. “Drinks? Whiskey, gin?” He smiled at Harlan. “Bourbon?”
“You read my mind,” Harlan said, taking a seat.
“It was the accent that suggested it,” he admitted, pouring his shot, and then getting a whiskey for Gabe and gin and tonic for Shadow.
Rather than sit, Shadow accepted her drink and stood at the window looking down to the club, saying, “I didn’t see this window from the other side.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Maverick told her. “It’s a one-way mirror with a non-reflective surface on the other side, so it blends in with the wall in the dark. It’s useful for my security team to keep an eye on things.” He gestured to the two people who had returned to surveilling the club—one man, one woman—but didn’t introduce them. He sat down, sipping his whiskey. “You think I can help you find a shifter?”
Harlan nodded. “A chimera-shifter who was responsible for a theft on Thursday night. We were hoping that he—or she—might have passed through here.”
Maverick swirled his drink, the ice clinking against the glass. “A chimera-shifter? I presume you mean a shifter that can change into many forms?” At Harlan’s nod, he continued, “That’s an interesting name for them, but we call them therian-shifters. And how do you know it’s a therian?”
Harlan glanced at Shadow, a questioning look in his eyes, and she said, “Because I could tell. It’s one of my skills.”
“Care to share?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
“Not really. But I can tell that you, your man on the door—” she gestured to the man who had let them in and now leaned against the wall watching their exchange, “and the woman are wolf-shifters, but the other man—” she pointed to the burly man who had been looking through the window but now stared at Shadow, “is human.” He grinned and returned to surveilling the club, and Shadow said, “I also know most of your bar staff and bouncers are shifters, but most of your clientele is human. Although, I would need a good look around to say for sure.”
“Consider me impressed,” Maverick said, raising his glass in salute. “And you can tell the difference in types of shifters?”
She kept it brief. “Yes. You all have a certain quality.”
Maverick watched her for a few more seconds, his amber eyes warm like the whiskey he swirled in his glass, and Shadow felt his magic flare. But her glamour was firmly in place and she waited until he nodded and addressed Harlan and Gabe. “You can see how busy my club is. Sometimes less than savoury characters pass through here, but in general it’s a safe place for the supernatural people of this world. However, I don’t keep track of everyone. We are open to all, as long as they don’t cause trouble.”
“But you are the only pack in the area, and shifters like to be together. It’s natural you might have heard something,” Harlan suggested.
“Wolf-shifters like to be together…on the whole. There are loners. Therian-shifters are very different creatures altogether. Have you ever met one?” They all shook their heads, Shadow unwilling to admit she knew them only in her own world, and he shrugged. “Trust me. Much like their ability to change form, they are slippery at best, downright troublemakers at worse. All indulge in some kind of crime, most petty, but not all. So, if I’m honest, it doesn’t surprise me that your thief is a therian.”
Gabe leaned forward, speaking for the first time. “Is there a community of therian-shifters around here?”
Maverick laughed. “They don’t even trust each other.” He dropped his smile, becoming serious. “You’re going to a lot of trouble to find this guy. What did he steal?”
Now it was Harlan’s turn to laugh. “I’m not telling you that, but rest assured it is expensive and precious to the people who hired us. And if I’m honest, we don’t know exactly what it can do, so I think it’s safer back with the people it belongs to.”
Not exactly true, Shadow thought, but close enough. Suddenly, the thought of the astrolabe in the hands of a rogue shifter and whoever had hired him made her feel very uncomfortable.
After another moment of studied concentration, she presumed Maverick came to the same conclusion. He looked over to the woman who was as tall as Shadow, dressed in black leather from head to toe with long, tawny hair and green eyes. “Domino is my head of security, and Grey, next to her, is her second. She, more than anyone, knows of the comings and goings here, and the wider community. Tell them what you’ve heard, Dom.”
She leaned against the glass, arms folded across her chest. “A therian-shifter called Blaze came sauntering into the bar on Wednesday night. Edric was on the door that night and questioned him before letting him in—just casually. He’s been here before, and generally causes us no problems, but he has a dubious reputation, like all of his kind. He said he was down here on a job and all he wanted was a drink, so he let him in.” She nodded behind them. “He sat in one of the smaller rooms for a few hours, drinking and chatting up girls. He’s good looking—if you like dodgy, bad boys.” Domino did not look impressed. “Anyway, one of those girls he chatted up is actually one of ours who we pay to circulate to get information.” She smirked. “We like to know what trouble may land on our door, and this is one way of keeping tabs. Apparently, he was staying close by, although the job was across the river. He didn’t specify what it was and she didn’t push. He just said it was tricky and needed his particular expertise.” Domino rolled her eyes. “He looked very pleased with himself. Bragging impresses some people.”
Harlan looked excited. “Across the river sounds promising. It could be our guy. Any idea where he was staying? And why here? Wouldn’t he want to be closer to the job?”
Domino shrugged. “He didn’t say. But, if I remember correctly, there’s bad blood between Blaze and the North London Pack. And maybe he likes to keep his distance from the job, too.”
“Maggie said they weren’t as amenable as you guys,” Harlan admitted.
Maverick advised, “Unless you like drug dealers, lowlifes, and brawlers, it’s best to avoid them.”
“Are they the ones based in North Finchley?” Harlan asked.
Maverick gave a tight smile. “Yes. A good distance from here, fortunately. We don’t get on.”
“This guy, Blaze,” Gabe said, drawing them back to the shifter in question. “From where up north?”
“Yorkshire, if I recall,” Domino told him. “In his mid-thirties I’d guess, average height, slim build, longish dark hair.”
“That’s great, thank you,” Harlan said. “Have you seen him since then? Or did your girl get an address?”
“No address, but you can talk to her if you like. She’s working tonight.” She looked at Maverick, who nodded, and then turned to her second. “Grey, can you fetch her?”
Grey’s long stride carried him across the room, and while they waited, Maverick topped up their drinks. Shadow watched the dance floor, hearing the other three continue to chat. She filtered them out, concentrating on the scene below her.
The band had finished their set and were clearing their instruments from the stage. Another raised area opposite that she hadn’t noticed when they walked in was where the DJ was set up, and from the dancing she could see below, it looked as though he had taken over from the band.
Domino was still studying the club, and Shadow said, “Do you have a band on every Saturday?”
She nodded. “And Tuesdays and Thursdays, most weeks. It’s a popular venue for both established and smaller bands.”
“All rock?”
“Mainly, but the DJ does 80s nights, too. That’s always fun.”
From the expression on her face, Shadow assumed she was not an ’80s music fan. “Do you ever have disco nights?”
Domino looked sharply at her. “Don’t tell me you’re a fan?”
“I’m partial to Donna Summer and the Bee Gees.” She shrugged. “Weird, I know, but what can I say?”
A broad smile spread across Domino’s face. “Well, I’d pay to see you on the dance floor dancing to that!”
Shadow lowered her voice and moved closer. “How did you come to lead security here?”
“I earned it through hard work and a gift for diplomacy. And I fight well too, which helps.”
“And do you really see only a little trouble here?”
“Really!” Domino nodded to the mass of people below. “This place is about fun and security for those in the paranormal world.”
“And how come you have a human as part of your team?” Shadow asked, genuinely curious.
Domino studied her. “The worlds mix, as you well know. Grey was here one night as a patron when there was an incident. He’s ex-Forces and leapt in to help, and managed to impress me and the boss. We felt it was a good idea to have humans on our staff, too. It adds perspective, and it has worked out well. What’s your story?”
“Essentially, I was looking for new work, too and fell in with these guys.”
Domino looked her up and down and inhaled. “There’s something different about you.”
Shadow smiled. “Not really.” Time to change the subject. “Do you know Blaze?”
Her face hardened. “Only slightly. Arrogant shit, but there’s no doubt he’s good at what he does. He may be from up north, but he gets around a lot.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Grey and a pretty, young, dark-haired woman dressed in black—a fitted short-sleeved top, short skirt, and high-heeled ankle boots. Her arms were tattooed, and she reminded Shadow of El because of her makeup, piercings, and jewellery.
“Ah, Jet,” Maverick said, gesturing to a seat. “Come and join us. Drink?”
She grinned at him as she sat, her bangles clinking together. “I better not if I want to stay sharp. Maybe in another hour.”
“Trouble?”
“Just some interesting arrivals I want to chat with.”
He gestured to his visitors and introduced them. “Tell them what you remember about your conversation with Blaze the other night.”
She groaned and laughed. “He was at his most charming, which meant he was also at his most smug.”
“You’ve spoken to him before?” Gabe asked.
Her eyes ran over Gabe, assessing him. “Sure, several times. I’ve worked here for a few years now and he’s down every few months on one job or another. Sometimes he’s here with other girls, but if not, we catch up.”
“Sounds like you have a pretty good relationship with him. He tells you stuff.”
“Depends how much alcohol he’s had and how big his ego is, but generally, yes.”
“Even though you work here?”
She smiled. “He might suspect it, but it doesn’t bother him.”
“I gather he said his job was over the river,” Gabe asked. “Did he say where?”
“He said he had to acquire something from a bunch of old men with God complexes. I asked him if he was stealing from a cathedral and he laughed his head off! Said it was more old school than that.” Jet huffed. “I thought he was pissed, because it made no sense to me.”
Shadow took a seat. This was sounding more promising. Harlan placed his empty glass down on the table and leaned forward. “Did he say who employed him, or where he was delivering it to?”
She shook her head. “No. Even when he’s had a few drinks he never says that.”
Shadow had another idea. “If he’s down here regularly, he’ll have friends here. Is there anyone he sees in the club?”
Jet’s gaze became distant for a moment, and then she focussed quickly. “Yes. There are a couple of guys I see him talking to. Neither are shifters, and I don’t know how they know him, but they seem reasonably friendly.”
“You don’t know them?” Maverick asked her.
She shook her head. “No—just a passing ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’ But one of them is in here tonight. I saw him about an hour ago with a girl, watching the gig.”
Gabe stood immediately. “Show me.”
They all headed to the window and looked down on the dance floor below. It was more crowded now, and groups congregated together in front of the bar, chatting, and that’s where Jet pointed after scrutinising the club.
“That’s him. He’s short-ish, talking to a blonde woman in jeans at the corner of the bar. Scruffy guy.”
“We need to talk to him,” Gabe said, watching him. “Got a name?”
Jet smirked. “Typhoo.”
That stopped Gabe in his tracks. ”What?”
“As in Typhoo Tea?” She looked at him quizzically, waiting for the penny to drop. “Tea-leaf—thief—it’s his nickname.”
Grey sniggered as Gabe rolled his eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Yes—it’s a Cockney thing.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Gabe muttered, as Harlan and Shadow exchanged amused glances.
“Don’t cause trouble in my club,” Maverick warned them, his amber eyes starting to glow.
“No trouble. We just want to talk,” Gabe said, wide-eyed with innocence. Shadow almost snorted. As if anyone would believe that. “Any other exits I should know about, just in case he decides to run—other than the one outside your office?”
Maverick’s lips pursed, but he couldn’t hide his amusement. “One behind the bar—but he can’t get to that. And one next to the stage door.”
Harlan shook Maverick’s hand. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
“Good rates at The Orphic Guild then, should I need you?” Maverick asked smoothly.
“Of course.”
Gabe was already striding to the door, Shadow next to him. She threw a smile over her shoulder and found everyone watching them. “Next time.”
Five
Gabe already had a plan, and he addressed Shadow first. “Call my brothers. Make sure the rear exit is covered. Position yourself close by because you’ll be quickest to follow him—especially if he heads to the main exit. And keep out of sight!”
“And me?” Harlan asked, rolling his shoulders.
“With me. Let’s try the nice approach first. But if he runs, let him. We don’t want to make a scene here.” He’d found he liked Maverick and his club, and didn’t want to piss him off and get himself banned. Although, from the amusement on Maverick’s face, he had a feeling they would be watching from the window above, like he was here to provide entertainment. This was no time to fuck up.
Shadow gave him a knowing smile, and for a second he felt a stab of desire that he quickly quenched. She was at her sexiest when she hunted, but now was not the time. He saw her reach for her phone in the quiet of the corridor, and he made his way slowly to Typhoo, aware of Harlan keeping pace. He loved these moments of pursuit when everything was so unpredictable. Gabe was pretty sure he would run, but he had every faith that they would get Typhoo outside. He groaned. Even saying that stupid name in his head felt ridiculous.
Typhoo was still at the corner of the bar, talking animatedly to a short blonde woman, and Jet was right. He was scruffy. There was clearly no dress code at Storm Moon, because although many chose to dress up, Typhoo wore old jeans, trainers, and a worn Motley Crew t-shirt. Ugh. Bad rock. Gabe hated him already.
Gabe approached him casually, Harlan circling to his other side, and Gabe leaned in and raised his voice. It was quieter here by the bar, but the music was still too loud for comfortable conversation. “Typhoo, I need a word.”
Typhoo’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I have a question about Blaze.”
Typhoo stepped away from the blonde woman, who was watching with equal suspicion and dislike, and glared at Gabe, not in the slightest bit intimidated by his size. “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”
“You don’t need my name,” Gabe told him, aware of the looks they were getting. “I understand you saw Blaze this week, and I just need to know where he is.”
Typhoo took his time looking Gabe up and down before settling on his face again, arms crossed. “I ain’t telling you nuffin’.”
Gabe leaned in, nose to nose. “It sounds like you have something to hide, Typhoo. I can assure you that it’s in your best interest to tell me what you know.”
