Page 64 of Missing Piece
“Good, because I have a surprise for you later, and it would be a shame to have it ruined.”
With a nod, pursing his lips as hard as he could, he headed out of the curtained room back into the eerie black-lit hallway. The bass from the main floor thrummed through the walls, a constant thrum that made his teeth ache. He had been to Club Euphoria a handful of times when he was younger and rocking a fake ID, and during that time he always wondered what was behind the thick black curtain always guarded by at least one bouncer, but he had never been curious enough to try and sneak past one of them. He was usually too busy trying to find a fix or have a good time.
Honestly, it was probably a good thing he hadn’t, because the whole area appeared to be sectioned off for the vampires of the city. Vincent made it clear the vampires in their town were of the nicer variety, but if they were overly hungry orgrumpy, he probably would have been found as a bloodless husk behind the club the very same night.
“Alright ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, it’s last call. Get your drinks and order your rides, because we will drag your drunk asses out of here at 2 o’clock on the dot!” the DJ announced over the loudspeakers.
Adam glanced up at the booth as the music returned to a steady, deafening volume that made the back of his head ache. He could vaguely remember enjoying this kind of environment, but it was too much now. At least Tariq was enjoying himself. He was bouncing to the beat as though he had all the energy in the world.
He grinned at Adam navigating through the people still dancing and enjoying themselves, waving at him like a kid who just saw the first ice cream truck rolling up in the summer. Adam just nodded at him before his eyes fixed on the bar on the left side of the club.
There was more of a crowd on the right, but between the throngs of people trying to get their last orders in, he was pretty sure he could see Ophelia’s mass of hair. Best not to bother her.
“Broken fuck coming through,” he said as he got up to the opposite bar lined with color-changing LED lights, ignoring the irritated looks on a group of drunk guys’ faces.
The blonde bartender behind the counter barely looked at him, but Adam could see her eyes flick up for a second before she pointed at him. “What’ll it be?”
“Whatever your cheapest beer is and a bottle of water,” he said, leaning against the bar. “It’s going on Vincent Bellenger’s tab.”
She eyed him suspiciously as she popped the cap off anamber bottle of beer before she grabbed the walkie-talkie next to her register. “Hey, Ophelia, Mr. Bellenger ever order a beer before?”
“Nope,” Ophelia’s voice crackled over the speaker, loud enough for Adam to hear. “Why?”
Great. Now I know they’re fucking with me.Adam patted his back pocket.Oh yeah. No wallet. Shit.
“There’s a guy here who looks like his face had a date with a baseball bat telling me to put something on Mr. Bellenger’s tab,” the blonde said.
“Oh, that’s Adam. He’s good.”
The blonde shrugged and placed the beer and water on the bar top. “Enjoy.”
Adam walked away from the bar, beer and water bottle crushed together in one hand, glancing around at the few patrons remaining as they pounded their final drinks. The crowd was thinning out fast, giving him a clearer view of the dance floor and the emergency exits. Getting back to Vincent and the brothers would be simple enough now. He just had to avoid the groups of drunk college kids stumbling around like pinballs.
As Adam neared the DJ booth, a man with dark hair approached, his attire more befitting a suburban dad on a Costco run than a club-goer in the wee hours of the morning. The stranger’s ensemble, a faded polo shirt tucked into khaki shorts, complete with white New Balance sneakers, stood out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of glitter and leather that filled the dance floor. He held out a hand towards Adam. “Here, let me help you with those. Looks like you’ve got your hands full, son.” His accent was off. Too southern and twangy to be from the countryside.
Something about the stranger unsettled Adam, despite his harmless suburban-dad appearance. Those calculating eyes swept over him like a predator sizing up prey, searching for vulnerabilities. Adam couldn’t shake the unease in his gut that the friendly stranger was dangerous. The man’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Adam found himself instinctively backing away, his muscles coiling with tension. He’d met enough con artists to recognize a performance, and this guy’s insincerity was practically oozing from his pores. Adam’s hand tightened around his drink, ready to use it as a makeshift weapon if things went south.
“I’m pretty sure you want me to hold your drinks for you,” the man insisted, flashing a smile at Adam as he touched his hand to grab the open beer bottle.
The boiling sense of danger in Adam’s gut vanished, replaced by a wave of embarrassment. Without a second thought, he handed over the beer and water bottle, his fingers brushing against the stranger’s as he relinquished his grip. Adam felt a sharp pang of guilt for assuming the worst of the man, his cheeks flushing slightly with shame. After all, the guy had done nothing to earn Adam’s suspicion other than offer a bit of assistance in a crowded bar.
Of course, this guy is just trying to help. What’s wrong with me?Adam chastised himself silently.As if being around vampires was making him second-guess everyone, turning simple acts of kindness into potential threats.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Adam said, attempting a smile despite his lingering reservations.
“My pleasure.” The man gestured toward the restrooms instead of the black curtain. “After you, son.”
That’s not right, is it? Did I want to go to the bathroom?
He started down the corridor, the rhythmic thud of his crutch echoing off the narrow walls, when a realization hit him. He was acting on instinct, blindly trusting this stranger, just like the impulsive behavior that used to rule his life when he craved his next fix or chased a dangerous high. But this felt different, orchestrated. As he looked back at the man, a chilling wave of fear washed over him. The man’s amicable facade had evaporated, replaced by a menacing gleam in his eyes and a predatory smirk. Something was wrong.
His heart pounding, Adam came to an abrupt stop, shaking his head. “I don’t need to go, but go ahead,” he said as he pivoted using the crutch.
The man grasped Adam’s hand again, his grip firm and unyielding. “Come now, let me help you to the restroom. You’ll feel better after freshenin’ up.” Though every instinct screamed in protest, Adam found himself following the stranger into the empty bathroom, his crutch thumping with each reluctant step.
The door slammed shut behind them with a sound like a gunshot, cutting off the muffled bass and chatter from the club. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in sickly white. The smell of industrial cleaner couldn’t quite mask the underlying reek of piss and vomit. The man stood by the door as it closed, turning the lock with a decisive click. He gathered the beer bottle and water bottle Adam had ordered and threw them into the trash with casual precision. Then he turned back toward Adam, and his eyes transformed, irises and whites disappearing until they were pitch black.
The man’s black eyes glinted at Adam, his friendly demeanor gone. A vampire. Adam opened his mouth to shoutfor help, but the man touched his hand again. “You’re not afraid of me. There is no need to shout.”
