"Excellent. We must compliment the donor," Simon suggested.
Dolf raised his hand. "Now that that's done, mind telling us why you two decided to go for a stroll through the sewers?"
I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "How'd you guys even know we were in the sewers?"
Dolf grinned and tapped the side of his long snout. "This nose knows. Besides, I met-" he jerked his head towards Certus, "-near Simon's car, and from there we dropped into a manhole and followed the scent." He paused and swept his eyes over the area. His nose wrinkled. "I have to admit this place gave me a couple of wrong turns, and there were these shadow things we had to deal with."
"Phantoms," Certus corrected him.
Dolf shrugged. "Shadows. Phantoms. Same thing. Anyway, what made you two decide to come down here?"
Simon brushed off his tattered clothes. "Georgina of the Four Horsemen invited us to view her latest hairstyle, so we were fortunate only to drop into her graveyard of victims."
I started back and whipped my head to him. "Is that why you tackled me?"
He nodded. "Yes. She has performed the maneuver of removing her hat so often any warning of her gesture is nearly impossible to detect."
"Mind catching me up to speed about this Georgina?" Dolf spoke up.
"A gorgon, if the word is familiar to you," Simon explained.
Dolf shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."
"They are a mythical breed of women who hold a head of snakes rather than hair," Simon told him. "One look upon the snakes and the viewer changes to stone."
Dolf winced. "So it's a bunch of ladies who have bad hair days all their lives? They must be pretty bitchy."
"And crafty," Simon added. He glanced at Certus. "We must be led back to the car as quickly as possible and taken to the Silver Snake." Certus bowed his head. Simon turned to me and smiled. "Are you prepared for a short run?"
I cringed. "I don't think I'm prepared for a short shuffle-hey!" Simon had scooped me into his arms.
That conniving rascal grinned down at me. "Then allow me to escort you."
I clutched onto him as the pair of vampires rushed down the tunnel. "Hey! Wait up!" Dolf yelled behind us.
The three men and I zigged and zagged through the mess of tunnels for a few minutes until we reached a ladder set into the wall. At the top of the ladder was a manhole with a few round holes in its surface that allowed natural light into the darkness. I never thought I'd be glad to hear car horns honking and people yelling, but those wonderful sounds drifted down to us and I sighed.
Simon set me down and helped me over to the ladder. "Ladies first."
I dug in my heels and frowned. "Oh, hell no. I'm not going up there until I'm sure there isn't a lady up there with snake hair who's going to give me a stone facial."
"I'll go," Dolf offered as he stepped forward. There was a goofy grin on his face as he grasped a rung of the ladder and put his foot on a lower one. "I'm always willing to meet another myth."
Dolf climbed the rungs and slid the manhole off. A quick peek and he glanced down at us. "Come on. It's safe."
I was the next to climb up, followed by Simon and Certus. The manhole came out in an alley behind the Four Horsemen. Dolf helped me out and soon the four of us were comfortable in Simon's limo, courtesy of Certus. I sat beside Simon and Dolf was opposite us.
Dolf leaned back and stretched his arms on the back of the seat on either side of him. He slid down and grinned. "I don't know why you go out on these wild rides, Simon. I'd be happy just living this life."
"You forget this matter concerns me personally," Simon pointed out.
Dolf sighed. "I guess even the mighty Simon Cruor's fortune is nothing compared to that fleece." He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. "So what's the plan now? Got any fleece leads from the snake lady?"
Simon gave one of his famous crooked grins. "Georgina was kind enough to give a hint about its whereabouts before her attempted murder of us."
"So that's why we're going to this Silver Snake place?" Dolf guessed, and Simon nodded. "Any chance this Georgina will be there already?"
Simon shrugged. "Quite a bit, but it is our good fortune her 'cousin' and she are not on good terms, and she is barred from entering the Silver Snake."
I shuddered. "So is this guy sporting a head of snakes, too?"
Simon shook his head. "No. They are not truly related through blood, merely by association."
I arched an eyebrow. "Because of the place he owns?"
Simon chuckled. "Something like that, but what is important is Georgina doesn't have access to Sarpa, and we do."
I blinked at him. "What's a Sarpa?"
"The name of the owner of the Silver Snake," he explained. The limo slowed down and Simon glanced out the window. His eyes lit up and his slick smile grew longer. "It appears we have arrived."
CHAPTER 7
The Silver Snake was a classier joint situated at the end of the club district. The dark back alleys and tired-looking brick buildings were replaced by business-owned parking garages and glitzy restaurant fronts. People in top hats and dresses mixed with the more casual attire of polo shirts and skirts.
The Silver Snake itself was a mix of club and restaurant with a valet at the covered entrance. A red carpet led the guests through the glass doors and into a lobby guarded fiercely by a tall man who stood behind a slightly shorter podium.
Certus parked the car on the curb and opened the door for us. I watched the classy people walk by and glanced down at myself. "We might have a problem."
Dolf grinned. "We could just say we've been exploring the fine facilities offered by the city."
Simon chuckled. "I will handle our seeing Sarpa."
We stepped out and immediately the people around us skirted our bubble of toxic smell. Many of them clapped their mouths over their noses and quickened their pace. I swept my eyes over the crowds and unconsciously licked my lips. The scent of their pumping blood caught my nostrils and elicited a growl from my stomach.
I started when Simon grasped my hand in his palm. He didn't look at me as he watched the humans walk past us. "Sarpa would not appreciate our eating his clients."
The valet turned a strange shade of green, but stepped forward and held out his hand for the keys.
"If I may," he squeaked.
Certus clutched the keys to himself. "I will-"
"I would rather you came with us, Certus," Simon spoke up. He glanced at the pair of glass doors and smiled. "The more the merrier."
Certus grudgingly handed the car keys to the pimpled valet, and all four of us stepped inside. Our lovely scent du sewer invaded the luxurious lobby.
The man at the podium swung around his block of wood and waved his hands at us. He spoke in an accent as French as I was. "Shoo! Shoo! You cannot come in here smelling of such filth!"
Simon stepped to the front of our group and bowed low before the strange skeleton of a man. The astonished man stopped and blinked at him as Simon raised his head. "We wish to have an audience with Mr. Sarpa."
The man's pencil-thin mustache twitched and his eyebrows crashed down. "Non! Zis will not do!" He snapped his finger at the door. "You get out zis instant!"
Simon shook his head. "We will not leave until we have seen Mr. Sarpa."
The thin man stalked up to Simon and stuck his face in that of the vampire. "Who are you to be demanding zis?"
"He's Simon Cruor."
All eyes turned to the arched opening to the club. A ramp led down to the restaurant floor, and up this ramp wheeled a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. His face was wrinkled at the pair of chins he sported and tucked in one corner of his mouth was a thick cigar. He wore a gray suit down to the waist, and below that a blanket covered him to the footstool. His silver hair was slicked back and resembled a snake skin.
The thin man started back and momentarily lost his French accent. "M-Mr. Sarpa! Y-you know this man?"
Sarpa's eyes flickered to his employee. "Only an idiot doesn't know Simon Cruor." He wheeled himself up to Simon and sniffed the air. "Smells like you've been in a sewer."
"Courtesy of your cousin," Simon told him.
Sarpa arched an eyebrow. "I see. Let's get into my office before my guests lose their appetite, and I lose money."
Sarpa led our little group through a smaller arched doorway to the right of the front doors. It led to a small hallway, and against the wall opposite the arch was an elevator.
Our host pressed the down button and twisted in his chair to look at us. His eyes fell on Dolf and me, and he jerked his head towards us. "Looks like you're getting yourself a baseball team, Simon."
Simon smiled. "A team, yes, but not for baseball."
Sarpa chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard what you've been up to lately. You've got a lot of balls doing that. Basileus is just about ready to throw the book at you."
Simon bowed his head. "I will risk his wrath to amuse myself."
Sarpa sighed and shook his head. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?" The elevator doors swung open and we all stepped, or wheeled, inside.
"I merely wish to keep myself occupied during these long nights," Simon countered as the doors shut and we flew up.
Sarpa leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I'm serious about Basileus. He's had his eye on you for a while now, and that last stunt you pulled really ticked him off. He guaranteed the safety of that shipment himself, and for you to steal it from his jaws was a little too far."