Stormrise (The Storm Chronicles) by Knizley Skye

Author:Knizley, Skye [Knizley, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing
Published: 2013-10-30T04:00:00+00:00

VII

The squall had passed, leaving behind a bitterly cold wind that belied a traditional Chicago autumn and hinted at the icy winter ahead. It blew a handful of leaves across the frozen street and caused the sign above Club Purgatory to rattle ominously. Levac turned up the collar of his beige trench coat as protection against the chill and moved to stand in line with the other hopefuls waiting to enter the club. Raven stared at him for a moment before grabbing his arm and dragging him behind her to the head of the line.

“Hey!” he objected. “Shouldn’t we be polite and wait our turn?”

“No,” Raven replied, pulling out her credentials. “This isn’t a social call; we’re police officers conducting an investigation. Would you wait to go anywhere else? Of course not. It’s just a stupid club, regardless of what the papers say. Reach down and find a pair!”

She stopped before the bouncer, a vampire dressed in a wet tank top, leather pants and boots. He stood there, impervious to the icy weather, and stared at the two detectives with a blank face.

“Detectives Storm and Levac,” Raven said. “We have business inside.”

“So does everyone else in line,” the bouncer replied, his voice higher pitched than Raven would have expected in a man so muscle-bound. “Wait your turn.”

Raven sighed and let go of Levac’s arm, wondering if the club was purposely hiring bouncers who didn’t know her just to piss her off. “Do we really have to go through this?”

“The rules say everyone waits,” the bouncer replied, flexing his muscles and flashing a hint of fang. “That means even you, copper.”

“Come on, Storm.” Levac plucked at Raven’s sleeve. “I don’t want to shoot anyone tonight. Or worse, get beaten to death or shot myself.”

“Who said anything about shooting anyone?” Raven asked with surprise.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Raven reached out and grabbed the bouncer’s ear. Ignoring his flabbergasted howl and pulling him close, she whispered, “You are keeping Fürstin Ravenel Tempeste and her guest standing in the rain while you play bad-ass vampire. Let us in before I tear off your head and use it for a bowling ball!”

She then let go of the vampire’s ear and stepped back, her hand hovering near her holstered Automag in case the vampire decided to act as stupid as he looked.

The vampire glared at the two of them for a moment before turning and opening the sliding door for them. Raven resisted the urge to pat the vampire on the head and instead guided Levac through the coat check area and into the club proper.

Like most nights, the dance floor was packed tight, with narrow gaps to allow foot traffic to reach the dance cages, bar, and mosh pit near the stage. Raven stood on her toes to see over the crowd, searching for the bartender she had spoken to before or anyone else who looked friendly-ish. She spotted Pashta serving drinks to a group of biker-looking lycans near the stage and started toward her.

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