Bad Luck, Baby

36 - Bad Joke

Feeling as if I walked in a dream, I followed Inguka from Janelle's apartment and down the stairs to her shop. My father, Lucian Drake, and Janelle herself came after, while Luke stayed behind with Kyrie.

On the ground floor, the specter's half-solid shape led the way out the back door and down the steeply sloping alley to the recessed steps and the entrance to Fangs.

No one guarded it at this hour, and with bright daylight pouring down from above, the industrial-style metal door appeared drab and mundane, as if nothing more interesting than a boiler room lay behind it.

"Alright," said Janelle, hands on her hips as she surveyed the door. "Carmella's no lightweight, but ya'll just stay quiet and let me handle her. I don't want no help from the peanut gallery. That means you," she added with a pointed look at my father.

He shrugged. "If you have a plan, and it works, then I shall be satisfied."

"Good. Alright, let's see here..."

She dug in her voluminous garment, which seemed to be rich in pockets, and produced a bundle of keys. Picking through them, she selected one and bent over to fit it in the lock.

"Landlady privileges," she grunted as the mechanism clicked and the door opened inward a crack. She pushed it open the rest of the way and stood back. "After you, Inguka."

The spectral beast passed through the opening like dark mist and the rest of us followed.

Inside, Fangs looked vastly different than it had on my last visit. With no pulsing music and strobing lights, no mass of closely pressed bodies writhing to the beat, it seemed cold and empty, and a little forlorn. There was no sign of Carmella.

"She's prob'ly still sleeping, at this hour," Janelle said. Then she took a deep breath and shouted loudly enough to wake the dead—or the undead, at least. "CARMELLA! GET YOUR BITCH-VAMP ASS OUTTA BED AND COME OUT HERE! WE NEED TO TALK!"

My ears rang as silence fell again, and I wondered vaguely if Janelle had used magic to enhance the sound, or if she'd just been born with a weapons-grade voice.

I covered my ears and winced as she drew another breath, but before she could use it, a panel behind the bar slid open and Carmella emerged.

She wore a slinky red nightgown that left extraordinarily little to the imagination, and her long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders in a 'just been fucked' kind of way. She radiated sex-appeal so strongly even I felt a little winded by it, which made me wonder how those so inclined would fare.

Not well, judging by the glazed looks in my father and Lucian's eyes.

Janelle clapped her hands, and I was glad to see I wasn't the only one she startled as both Lucian and my father jumped.

"Mel! Turn off the damn coochie magnet and concentrate!"

Carmella's bright red lips curved in a frown, and she flipped her hair over her shoulders and shook her head.

"Janelle. I see you've brought an entourage. However, as I'm sure you're aware, Fangs doesn't open until after sundown—even for you."

"Cut the crap," Janelle snapped. "Take a closer look."

She gestured at Lucian and my father, and Carmella glanced between them, her eyes shining like those of a predator in the semi-darkness.

"Ah. I see," she said, arching a brow as her tone turned sardonic. "Your luck finally ran out and you've decided to throw me under the bus. So that's how it is."

Unfazed, Janelle stared right back at her. "Closer, Mel."

Frowning, Carmella's eyes skipped from me, to Lucian, and finally landed on my father and stayed there. A swift and startling change came over her, almost comedic in its suddenness. It was as if, quite literally, she had seen a ghost.