Frost & Bothered (5 page)

“Someone has an over-inflated ego,” I said when we cruised by the entrance in search of a parking spot. “Wonder if we’re cool enough to get in?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Dane leaned forward. “I am, but I don’t know about you two.”

I tried to shoo him back. “Ha, ha. You’re so funny.”

Logan chose a spot in the corner of the lot farthest from the entrance. “Sorry, we’re going to have to walk.”

“I’ll live, but it may be too much for Dane. He’s such a fragile flower.”

My partner rolled his eyes. “You’re being sillier than usual.”

“Jitters. I haven’t been to a club in over a year, and not to many before then anyway. Here I am, dressed to the nines, with two handsome men, and we’re sitting in a gorgeous set of wheels.” I pulled my licenses and a twenty from my purse. “Did you install an alarm on it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Logan cut the engine.

“Good. Will you hold this for me?” I handed over my stuff, before shoving my purse under my seat. It took him a few seconds to realize I didn’t mean just for the moment, but when he did, Logan tucked my licenses and money into his wallet. “Dane, you have Rico’s photo, right?”

“In my wallet,” he assured me.

Logan exited, leaving Dane to crawl out of the back seat on his own. A moment later, he appeared out of the evening gloom to open my door. The snow had stopped again, so I left the hood of my coat down.

Doors shut and locked and the alarm set, we walked across the lot. We had to pass the door to go to the end of the line, but as we neared the door, one of the bouncers stepped forward. “Tiger lady. Come on in.”

“I knew this coat was a wise purchase,” I whispered to Logan. “My friends too?”

The bouncer, about seven feet tall and some type of supe I’d never seen before, surveyed them for a second before nodding. “Your friends, too, Tiger Lady.”

“Thank you.” We passed between the bouncers, the second one turning to open the door for us. The room we entered was silent, and painted white. Everything was white: Walls, floor, ceiling, the back of the door we’d come through, the counter, and even the cash register sitting on it.

An elf sat behind the counter. She was a white blonde with the palest skin I’d ever seen, dressed as a sexy angel. White feathered wings stuck up above her head. Her eyes were pale pink. Albino elf. Neat.

Once at the counter, I saw the discreet sign that informed us the cover charge was five dollars. That was amusing, after the whole “You shall not pass unless you’re cool enough” charade outside. Logan and Dane began pulling out their wallets, but the elf spoke. “There’s no charge for you or your companions, Miss Jones. Be welcome, and enjoy your evening.”

“How do you know who I am?”

She inclined her head. “Prince Thorandryll owns this establishment.”

“Seriously?” She nodded, and I wondered if he’d passed my photo around the old sidhe so all his people would know what I looked like.

“Yes, Miss Jones. Your refreshments are complimentary as well.”

Huh. Partying on Thorandryll’s dime did have a certain allure, but we were there for a reason. I glanced at Dane, who stepped forward and held up the photo of Rico. “Have you seen this man recently?”

She looked at the photo. “Yes. He’s been in several times since we opened. I believe he was here last night.”

Woohoo, we were getting somewhere. “Did you see him leave alone, or with someone?”

The elf shook her head. “I’m afraid not. This is the entrance.”

I hadn’t seen another door outside. “Where’s the exit?”

“You’ll find it when you’re ready to leave. My apologies, but there are new arrivals incoming.” She gestured to a door at the right of her post. “Please enjoy your evening.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Had the door been there before? I couldn’t remember as we moved toward it. At least we’d confirmed Rico was a regular.

“Welcome, Miss Jones,” an elf said the second I walked through the door. This one was a guy, dressed in clinging black pants, highly polished riding boots, and a white poet’s shirt. His hair didn’t match the romance cover outfit, being dark blue. The room we were in was little more than a rectangular box, with doors at each end. It was also painted white, but the overhead lighting picked out glints of green, blue, pink, and gold on the walls, floor, and counter the new elf stood behind. It was like standing inside a giant opal.

“May I take your coats?”

Fancy. I untied the belt of mine as the guys shrugged off their jackets. The elf took them, not offering a number or anything. “Um, don’t we need a ticket or something?”

“We never forget which article belongs to which guest,” he assured me, and gestured to the far door with a fluid gesture. “Please, enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you.” I sincerely hoped the next door actually opened into the club. The gauntlet thing was growing old.

Onward we went, and a blast of warm air, music, and loud conversations smacked me in the face as Dane opened the door. He went through first, I followed, only to back up and bump into Logan after looking down. The floor was water, fish flashing neon colors darting around under the surface. “Whoa.”

“It’s solid,” Logan said, and I looked up to see people dancing on the water in the middle of an underground grotto. The place was huge, with thick coral columns spaced around the dance floor.

I took a step forward, my gaze moving up the nearest column. A greenish fog concealed the ceiling. “Pocket realm, glamour, or super interior decorating?”

“My vote is pocket realm.” Logan moved to my right side. “The air smells salty.”

It did. “Okay, this is actually kind of awesome.”

“There’s a bar.” Dane pointed off to our left. “And tables. Unless we find some clues on Rico, I vote we make Thorandryll really, really sorry about that complimentary drink thing.”

“I’ll be under the table in three drinks.”

He laughed. “You’re a wuss. We can drink gallons.”

“Seriously?” I looked at Logan, who nodded. “How?”

“Our metabolism is higher than humans’. That’s why we heal far faster. We break down alcohol and drugs extremely fast too.”

“That is so unfair. Wait, does that mean you can’t get a buzz?”

“We can, but we have to drink a lot to keep it going.” Dane grinned, looking around. “I hope he has a big stock room.”

“Uh huh. How much is a lot?”

“I’ll show you if we’re here for a while.” His grin widened. “I really like this place.”

I followed his line of sight to a waitress in a skin-tight cat suit of glittering blue scales and matching go-go boots. Her eye makeup and lipstick matched the suit. Way too much glitter for me. She looked human though, under it all.

“I think I’ll start questioning the waitresses.” Dane made a beeline for her.

“You do that,” I called after him, noticing a small school of fish trailing his footsteps. “I can’t tell if there’s non-watery floor over there.”

“There is.” Logan took my hand and led me after Dane. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes, please.” The neon flashing fish were darting around us too, and I couldn’t stop watching them, expecting to plunge through whatever was holding us above the water. “Have you seen
Jaws
yet?”

“No, what’s it about?”

“A man-eating shark.” An eel slid by, trailing red lightning, and I squeaked.

He laughed. “I doubt there’s sharks.”

“Thorandryll might be here.” We stepped from “water” to what looked like stone, but felt like thin carpeting under my shoes. The music went from loud to muted, but the buzz of a lot of people laughing and talking continued. I checked my new mental maze shield for weakness, but all its walls were firm. One area was humming, but not loud enough to be irritating.

Straight to the bar we went. I fought laughter at the sight of the bar stools: Coral columns, loads shorter and more slender than those holding up the roof, topped with upturned clam half shells for seats. “Dare you to sit on one.”

“Ah, think I’ll stand, but you go right ahead.” Logan patted the stool closest. “Nice and cushy.”

“And kind of tall.” I didn’t see an easy way to climb aboard the stool. Logan turned, put his hands around my waist, and hello! I was on the stool. Even managed to find a slight protrusion to plant the heels of my shoes on. “Thanks for the lift.”

“My pleasure.” He rested his forearm on the bar’s edge. “What would you like to drink?”

“Pina colada.”

“All right.” It wasn’t necessary to wave for a bartender’s attention, because one arrived then. “A pina colada for the lady, and a Weirding Pale for me, please.”

The bartender, yet another elf dressed like Coat Check Guy, inclined his head and walked down the bar a short distance.

“What’s a Weirding Pale?”

“Dwarf-brewed ale. It has a stouter taste than any of the human ales I’ve tried.”

“Oh.” Dwarves were real. Of course. It struck me again how little I’d learned about supes. They had different cultures, just like humans did. “In fairytales, dwarves mine and make stuff like weapons.”

Logan nodded. “They are master miners and weapon smiths, but they’re also famous brewers. At least with us.”

The bartender returned with our drinks. Mine was in a fishbowl glass I’d have to use both hands to carry, and lowered my “under the table in three” estimate to one. Logan’s was in a stone tankard, sans lid. He tipped the elf a five while I tried a sip through the green straw stuck in my drink. “Mm. I may need help with this.”

Logan lifted his tankard, shaking his head. “You’re on your own with fruity drinks. They make my ale taste funny.”

“I won’t be having a second, that’s for sure.” I moved, and the seat twisted. Sliding my over-sized drink closer to him, I turned until I could see the dance floor. Dane was talking to a waitress in red. “He seems to have things under control.”

“Does that mean you’re off the clock unless he finds something?” Logan watched me over the lip of his tankard as he took a drink.

I checked my mental Rico file, and the gold shimmer was present. “Delegation is such a useful tool.”

“Good. Want to move to a table?”

“Sure.” He helped me off the stool before I hefted my drink. “Lead on.”

He chose a table about ten feet from the edge of the dance floor. We both eyed the chairs—they had stubby tentacles and were orange—but the tentacles stayed on the backs. We sat down, and I realized the table’s top was glass, showing a scene of gently waving seaweed. A soft green glow emanated from the table. “Weird. The air and lighting all looks green, but people don’t.”

“Magic lighting.” Logan scooted his chair a bit closer to mine. “I like your dress.”

“Thank you.” Suddenly nervous, I took another drink, only to wonder if I looked like a fish sucking on the straw.

He settled back in his chair. “Are you excited about your house?”

Ooh, conversation I could handle. “You have no idea. It’s been crazy at Mom’s.”

“I bet. How’s Leglin and the Pit Crew?”

“They’re doing good. They don’t mention Red much, though.” My eyes grew hot. I blinked before taking another drink. “How’s the search for a new place going for you guys?”

“A couple of possibilities. It’s kind of hard to find something that’ll work for as many people as we have.”

“Yeah.”

Dane walked up and squatted between our chairs. “A couple of the ladies remember Rico being here last night, but no one remembers seeing him leave. Hey, is that Weirding?”

“Yes.”

“I’m getting one, and then I’ll do some more asking around.” Dane rose and strode off to the bar.

“He likes the job,” Logan said.

“He’s good at it, and fun to work with.” The music slowed down, and I glanced at the dance floor as people began pairing off for ‘Lady in Red’.

“Found your sea legs yet?”

“What?”

Logan smiled. “Would you like to dance?”

“Oh. Um, sure.” I needed his help to escape my chair. Once on the dance floor, Logan pulled me close and right into a slow Two Step. A warm tingling sensation spread through me, one I’d felt before when we’d touched. It only lasted a few breaths, so I didn’t think it was sexual. Those kinds of tingles tended to congregate a bit lower and stick around until something was done about them. “Where’d you learn to dance?”

“Television.”

I laughed. “You learned well.”

“Thanks.” His hand settled more firmly on my back. “You should see me do the Lambada. It probably works better with a partner though.”

Imagining him dancing alone in his living room drew another laugh from me. “You’ll have to teach me. I can waltz, Two Step, shake and shimmy to rock, but that’s it.”

“What, no tango?”

“No tango,” I confirmed. “But I do a mean Cotton-Eyed Joe, and a not bad Electric Slide.”

“I should make a request.” Logan spun me while looking around. “But I have no idea where the DJ booth is.”

“Darn. Or not darn, since I’m not wearing my boots.”

“What if,” he spun me again. “For our first date, we have dinner and go dancing somewhere Cotton-Eyed Joe is welcome?”

“Mm,” I said. “That depends. Are you going to wear a Stetson?”

“That’s a cowboy hat, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised. I squinted at him. “What?”

“Trying to imagine you in a Stetson, doing the Cotton-Eyed Joe. Or maybe the Schottische.”

His teeth flashed in a grin. “I know that one too.”

“You’re kidding.”

“When in Texas,” Logan said as the song ended. He stepped back, holding my hand, and doffed an imaginary hat. “Ma’am.”

It’s entirely possible I fell a tiny bit in love at that moment, looking into his eyes and watching a cute grin spread across his face. The same grin I’d seen the night we met, when he’d shoved his hands in his pockets to try to look harmless.

Then I saw Ginger behind him and to his left, her mottled, gray skin flaking as her mouth stretched into a mocking grin.

“What?” Logan asked, glancing that way. Fortunately, Dane was at the edge of the dance floor, waving at us. “Oh.”

Just as well she’d decided to turn up, or I may have embarrassed the holy crap out of myself again. You know, by blurting out something stupid like “can I keep you?” to Logan. “We better go see what he’s found.”