Angel of Fire - Chasing Destiny - Book Three ***COMPLETE!!!***

Let The Bleeding Begin

Chapter 17

If the world was about to end at any given moment, you certainly wouldn't know it from the atmosphere inside the club. It wasn't even nine-o-clock yet, but already the party was in full swing. The dark cyberpunk-trance mix made the walls literally shake. The dance floor at the far end of the room was packed with couples gyrating and swaying in unison to the up-tempo music.

My entire body throbbed dully with each thump of the deep rhythmic bass, like being caught in the crush of a midnight rave. Unfazed by all the noise, Vycandor had slid down in the plush red velvet seat, head barely visible above the black lacquer table. He didn't seem to notice the subtle change in the creepy atmosphere of the place. But I felt it.

Big time.

My eyes actually did a double take when, out of nowhere, two random guys approached the table smiling seductively. On second thought, I take that back. It wasn't just the fact that they were outrageously sexy that made me look twice. It was more of the fact that they were completely covered in light brown fur. Unlike Jade, at least these two had seen fit to wear clothes. They were both dressed in matching long sleeved white shirts, black pants, and had red aprons tied around their narrow waists. It only registered when they each handed me a menu that they hadn't stopped by to ask me to dance. They were here to take my order.

Damn.

Spellbound and speechless, I had a sudden overwhelming urge to pet them. But that seemed wrong. And more than a little rude. Not that I didn't totally suck at impulse control. Normally when I see a sign that says, "Don't Touch," I read "Touch When No One Is Looking."

I was still trying to figure out what kind of animal they were when the guys bowed politely and introduced themselves.

"Welcome to Nocturne's Oasis. My name is Chad. May I interest you in our catch of the day? We had a couple of Jehovah's Witnesses stop by to save our souls from eternal damnation, but we saved them for dinner instead. Everything except for the pamphlets, of course. Seasoned and barbecued to juicy perfection, we serve them up with a nice side of knife severed fingers, dipped in our special batter made with four secret ingredients and deep-fried to golden deliciousness. Or, if you prefer something a little more lean, we have a body builder who wandered in off the street. Covered in muscles and trimmed of fat, this healthy hunk is served on a fresh bed of lettuce with a tossed brain salad."

"I think I'm going to be sick," I mumbled.

Chad took a step backward as his drop dead gorgeous companion leaned down next to me on bended knee. "My name is Miguel. I'm a mixologist. Poisons are my specialty. Perhaps you would care for a drink first? I make a mean Red Devil. This diabolical mixture is a combination of a Kamikaze and an Alabama Slammer, with six drops of precious virgin blood added for extra sweetness. After downing a couple of these babies you'll be staring at a nice view of the ceiling."

Chad and Miguel pointed up at the same time. I tilted my head back to glance at the ceiling painted all black, surprised to find thousands of colorful decks of playing cards glued to the surface.

Meeting their mysterious animalistic eyes once again, I squeaked, "Can I just have a cup of coffee or something?" before motioning to the figure beside me. "Save the blood for him. He needs it. A lot."

Miguel took one look at Vycandor and bolted into action. Voice rising above the highly synthesized retro-futuristic music, he yelled, "We need a donor over here. Get me Chevauna!"