Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(7)
“Better this than bringing back gladiator fights.”
He finished off his drink. “I think I’d prefer that.”
When the music switched to a slower beat, I studied him for a moment. He had a friendly face. Not overly handsome or particularly ugly, just somewhere in the middle. His nose was straight and narrow, giving him a regal look that made him seem out of place in this century. Most of the time, his eyes narrowed as if he were squinting from a bright light or smiling. And for a man, what pretty lashes he had.
“What’s your name?” I asked, wondering if that would shed any light on whether or not he was an ancient.
He slowly turned to face the mirror again and met my gaze in its reflection. “Let’s keep it simple.”
“Fine by me.”
“What’s your name? What do you do? Where do you live? How old are you, and what is your Breed? You’ll eventually learn that none of those questions matter. Not one of them helps you to know a person better.”
I gave him a sardonic smile. “How many men have you killed? What was the last crime you committed? Would you rather be good or evil?”
That must have been my drink talking.
His brows sloped down, and when he grinned, deep lines etched on the sides of his face. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”
I played with the napkin in front of me. “Questions no one will answer, so we’re back to square one.”
“Ever want to break the rules?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why do people make rules?” he asked conversationally.
I shrugged.
“Control,” he answered. “And why do people need control?”
“Power?”
“Exactly.”
“Rules keep us from turning into animals. If this club had no rules, no one would pay for their drinks, and the owner would go out of business because of broken bottles and rowdy customers.”
The man folded his arms and tilted his head. “In Greek mythology, Chaos was the first thing to exist. Without Chaos, there would be nothing.”
“That’s fiction.”
“Maybe you should go home and read about the chaos theory.”
“You mean the butterfly effect? Bugs can’t create hurricanes. I’m not buying it.”
“You can’t know that, and it’s beside the point. Nothing in this life would ever change without chaos, and I’m not talking about revolutions and the downfall of the higher authority. Chaos isn’t about good or evil; it’s about unpredictability. Aren’t you ever inquisitive about the effect of your actions, no matter how small?”
“My job lets me see the results of my actions.”
He ticked his index finger back and forth like a pendulum on a metronome. “That’s not the same. That’s predictability. The same way coming in and ordering a drink is. But what if instead of drinking that glass of wrath, you left it on an empty table? Those drinks are spiked by Sensors. Maybe all someone needs to do the unexpected is a little nudge.”
I chortled and looked at his empty glass. “I think that’s the treachery talking.”
“Why don’t we give it a try?”
“Swapping someone’s drink?”
He leaned in and grinned wolfishly. “Let’s change destiny. Follow me if you’re up for an experiment.”
My brows touched my hairline as he stood up. Curious, I grabbed my coat and followed him through the crowd.
Club Nine was an enormous establishment, the main door on the front right. Upon entering a wide hall, customers found themselves in a large room mostly used for dancing. The bar ran along the front wall, the kitchen hidden behind it. Bathrooms were tucked away on the left side of the building. The unique thing about Club Nine was the lounge rooms in the back. Straight ahead, past the dance floor, an archway framed a wide hall, which was a cozy chamber unto itself. There were nine rooms, each with an arched entranceway made from brick. The lights affixed to the ceiling splashed a different color on the brick around every entrance. Four rooms on the left, four on the right, and one straight ahead. They weren’t labeled since the colored lights indicated which room was which.
“Why are they separated?” I asked. “Does something different go on in each one?” If the gluttony room had a buffet table, I was all in.
My new friend turned, hands in his pockets. “The club is a perfect example of how people like order. They want to be associated with something because it gives them a sense of belonging. In some clubs, people gravitate toward their own Breed. In others, it’s social status. Here, they want to commiserate and mingle with people who share common interests.”
“But it’s just a gimmick.”
“For some it is.” He disappeared behind me and suddenly stuck his head between my legs.
I hopped forward and scowled at him. “I don’t know what you think is going on here—”
“Haven’t you ever been to a rock concert?” He looked up at me, hands on his knees. “Ride my shoulders and switch out two of the colors.”
When he moved behind me again, I didn’t run off. Mostly because it seemed like a harmless idea, and I wanted to prove to him that it was absurd.
A woman sauntered past us, paying no attention as he hoisted me up. People did crazy things in Breed clubs all the time, so I didn’t concern myself with what other people might be thinking.
“Which ones?” he asked.
After he reminded me of the colors and their meaning, I pointed at the yellow and violet. They weren’t the kind of bulbs that heated up, so it didn’t take long to switch them out.
He set me down and studied them. “Why limbo and lust?”
I patted his shoulder and gave him a wry grin. “Lonely people need love?”
He sat down on a bench. “I would have interchanged treachery and greed.”
“You mean they aren’t the same?” I quipped, sitting beside him. “You wanted to prove that this has nothing to do with good or evil. If your theory has merit, then it won’t matter which of the nine I selected.”
“All in good fun,” he replied.
After a few minutes of people coming and going, voices within the rooms grew louder. One woman stormed out of the lust room, her lips pressed tight and fists clenched. A man wandered out shortly afterward, a scarlet mark across his alabaster cheek.
Serves you right for treating her like a piece of meat, I thought.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” my partner in crime asked.
“What? Being bad?”
He leaned forward and held my gaze. “No. To be free.”
“Switching a few lights hardly makes a person free.”
“There’s a light in every situation. You can’t switch those lights when you’re busy following rules.”
“Are you sure you didn’t drink the heresy? You seem to like anarchy.”
“That would imply I enjoy negative outcomes. Believe it or not, good things can come out of chaos. Life can arise from death, just as death can arise from life.” He jerked his head at the room. “One of those lonely men in there might connect with a woman who fills the void in his life.”
That was probably why I’d selected the most innocuous combination.
“That’s a pretty necklace,” he said. “A gift?”
I glanced down at the red heart dangling from my neck. It swung from the silver chain in a forward motion. “Not really. I needed costume jewelry for a thing I had to attend, so someone gave it to me.” I stood up and put on my grey trench coat, wishing I’d worn the leather jacket instead since it was easier to carry.
“Can I have your number?” he asked again, rising to face me.
I smiled playfully. “Let’s keep it simple.”
He inclined his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then he reached out and held my pendant between his fingers. “Who gave you this heart? Someone you loved?”
“No. Just my partner.”
“Your partner is a man of considerable wealth.”
“It’s not real.”
“This is a Burmese ruby of the finest quality. It’s a one of a kind and worth millions. The last time I saw it was at an auction in 1932.”
My breath caught.
He winked and let go. “How’s that for a little chaos? Have fun with your newfound knowledge, Butterfly.”
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, I felt the heat from the ruby burning against my chest like a fiery stone.
Chapter 5
After the revelation regarding the alleged value of my necklace, I tucked it inside my shirt. Odds were my mischievous friend was messing with my head to further his theory, and that specialty drink had done me no favors. It had altered my mood, though it wasn’t so strong that I couldn’t control my actions. Maybe that was why I’d participated in his game, whereas any other night I might have blown him off.
I was beginning to see the allure of all the club drinks.
After I left Club Nine and made it back to Keystone, I went into the dining room to find empty pizza boxes stacked on the table. One had leftovers inside and a note with my name taped to the box.
I lit a candle and took a seat in one of the booths along the wall between the dining and gathering rooms. Through the archway to my left, I noticed that the fire was extinguished—not a single flickering ember in the hearth. The butterscotch glow from my candle suffused against the wooden table, creating a peaceful aura amid the darkness.