Page 26 of Chasing Danger

“Boss, quick. Take this.” Eva shoved another antidote vial into my hands.

The liquid was bitter on my tongue, but tightness in my chest eased almost immediately.

“That was risky,” she scolded while taking my pulse. “Another minute and it would have been too late. Even the antidote wouldn’t have helped.”

“Well, at least the Russians believed my lie about only having one vial. And we all got out of there unharmed.”

I took too deep a breath and started coughing.

Eva handed me a handkerchief. “You call this unharmed?”

Dabbing at my mouth, I was glad to find no bloodstains on the white cloth. I’d taken the antidote in time. There was no damage to my lungs.

“Alive,” I corrected myself. “At least we’re all alive. And we have a chance to figure out what’s going on before the Russians get really angry.”

The car was filled with silence as we drove down the street away from the harbor. I regarded my bodyguards with a critical eye. They’d been with me for twenty years. Some things didn’t need to be said.

But then again, some things did.

“I know the reason my Russian relatives gave you to me as bodyguards was so you would spy on me for them.”

Both Eva and Gavriil opened their mouths to argue, but I cut them off.

“No, don’t bother. I knew from the day I accepted you that you were a leash as much as a shield. I’d rather have you here, out in the open, than have you spying on me secretly. However, this means you must report to someone in the Russian mafia. I need you to use those contacts and find out everything you can about the incident fifteen years ago. Neither side was able to catch the thief, but maybe by combining information we can figure out who’s responsible.”

The pair were silent for a moment, communicating only with their eyes, before they came to a decision. Based on the expressions on their faces, it seemed to be a decision in my favor.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Gavriil said while still paying attention to the road. “Do you really think the thief from fifteen years ago is the same person who stole the recent shipment?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, concentrating on taking deep even breaths as the antidote continued to do its work. “But Aslanov was right about one thing. Even if it’s not the same person, it’s still the same problem. The two incidents must be related somehow, and that might be the key to catching our thief.”

CHAPTER 12

D’Angelo

The Erodance wasclassier than many similar places. There was a Las Vegas vibe to the club, with many flashing lights and everything styled to be just a little over the top. However, the guests weren’t allowed within ten feet of the stage, and it was clear that effort had been put into keeping the dancers safe and comfortable.

I was a bit surprised when, upon entering, I was instructed to download the club’s app. Apparently, instead of letting guests throw money at the dancers, tips were given through online transactions. It was a different way of doing things, but after only a few minutes, I could see the appeal.

Instead of worrying about collecting money on the spot directly from guests, the dancers could focus on performing more complex routines that seemed specially choreographed to highlight the best assets of each dancer. One routine showed off the flexibility and long legs of the man on the pole, while another was a display of the dancer’s strength.

They were talented, but none of them were the dancer I most wanted to see, so I didn’t pay much attention.

Since it was a gay club, Eva had stayed outside to guard the perimeter while Gavriil came in with me, loitering near enough to be in sight without actually crowding me. Maybe it was irresponsible, going out to a club so soon after my incident with the Russians, but the antidote had left me feeling slow and sluggish. I needed something to get my adrenaline up and my blood pumping, and this club held the perfect solution.

Just as I’d hoped, a few moments later the music changed and a familiar figure stepped out onto the stage. If I hadn’t already known that Oliver worked here, I might not have recognized him. The mask was designed to match his outfit, and with a stage name like “Phantom” it seemed like a stylistic choice rather than one of necessity.

Every performance that night had a neon sci-fi theme, and Oliver was no exception. He swung himself up onto the pole as the opening notes of Katy Perry’sExtraterrestrialstarted playing. His black leather outfit blended into the background, but the neon details stood out in contrast, creating an illusion that he was constantly flickering in and out of focus.

Like a whisper making someone listen harder in order to hear it, Oliver’s outfit and movements also made people watch him closer.

Leaning back in my chair and sipping on my drink, a rather well made Old-fashioned, I enjoyed the show. Some people might feel jealous in such a situation, but I’d always liked letting others gawk and admire my riches. I liked the way other people’s eyes burned when they gave into their covetous nature, and the bitterdisappointment that overcame them when they realized they could never have the thing they desired.

Other people’s hands, however, were a different matter. For the same reason I kept my valuables locked behind a glass display case, I never shared my lovers with anyone else.

I knew the club offered “private” services. The door to the back rooms stood beside the stage, unmarked but obvious in its purpose. However, I was also certain that Oliver had never participated in any private “dance”. On our date, he’d kissed with passion but inexperience. He was obviously unused to the touch of other people.

Well, I wouldn’t let it stay that way for long.

---