Too bad it wasn’t usually money Cain wanted.
Chapter Fourteen
The bass rumble of the music thumped in my chest the minute we walked through the door. From the outside you could have heard a pin drop, but now that we’d entered the inner sanctum, it was all skull-rattling drumbeats and the jarring wub-wub-wub of dubstep.
The main floor consisted of a small, narrow room with a bar set along the back wall with several leather stools lined in front of it. All available seating was taken, and people were wedged between the stools shouting their drink orders at the two girls behind the bar.
Every inch of wall space was covered with pictures of fetish art and tribal illustrations. The lights were dim, so to get a good look at the photos meant leaning in really close. I’d felt a faint flush of embarrassment the first time I’d realized I was scrutinizing a woodcut print of a woman being penetrated by a giant dildo.
I didn’t give them a second glance anymore, but noticed Wilder’s attention drifting to a few of the more unique ones as we passed.
At the back of the room, next to a raised booth, an open casket was propped against the wall. The interior was lined with red velvet, and a slight indent in the pillow implied someone had only recently gotten up from their daytime nap. This, of course, was all flash for the tourists. No self-respecting vampires actually slept in coffins, thanks to the advent of blackout drapes. That coffin, I’d been told, had been in the bar long before supernaturals got outed. Now it was just an added bonus.
“Where have you brought us?” Wilder asked.
“Stay close, okay?” I warned.
The warmth of his body at my back told me he was taking my instructions a wee bit too seriously, but if it meant we wouldn’t be separated, I wasn’t going to say anything.
“If you wanted to get me drunk, I would have settled for a Hand Grenade or two on Bourbon.”
Even without seeing his face, I could hear his smirk. Wilder Shaw was the kind of guy who was accustomed to getting a long way on his charm, which seemed funny now, given how coarse he’d been when we first met. I was starting to like him more the longer I spent with him, but I wasn’t sure how much of that was genuine and how much was his innate ability to smooth talk.
Before we reached the stairs at the back of the room, I pulled him down a claustrophobic hallway leading to the dingy bathrooms. A bare light bulb hung overhead, creating garish shadows on the green paint and making him look rougher and more dangerous than he had previously. My pulse shivered when I realized how close and how alone we were here.
We were both Alphas, and I outranked him, but if push came to shove, I didn’t think I could overpower him.
I stepped back so there was as much space between us as possible. Not that I thought Wilder would hurt me, but being around him made me uneasy. There was something about him I didn’t trust, though I wasn’t sure if it was him or me I was more unsure of.
“Listen, there are a few things you need to know before we go upstairs. If you’ve been away from New Orleans a long time, you might not appreciate who it is we’re here to meet.”
“Enlighten me, then.”
Out of anyone else’s mouth it might have sounded pompous, but I got the feeling Wilder really wanted to help. I reminded myself he could have run off half-cocked and sought out the Church by himself, but he was tagging along and doing things my way. I appreciated it. I also felt like I owed it to him to get this right since he was putting a lot of faith in me to save his brother.
“Beau Cain knows things. It’s why people come to him. You trade something he wants for the information he has. He’s never wrong. He’s not psychic, and he can’t make things happen, but if you need to know something, he always has a way of finding the answer for you. If anyone can help us find Hank on short notice, it’s Cain.”
“And what kind of things does he want?”
Ah, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.
“It varies.” I paused because I didn’t really feel like finishing my thought. Vague answers were best in situations like this. I’d only needed Cain’s help twice in the past. Once he’d wanted money, but the other time he’d wanted something…darker and more difficult to come by.
I was willing to pay the price, but I couldn’t put the responsibility on Wilder. Whatever Cain wanted, I would be the one to get it for him, end of story. I felt it was my duty. If sacrifices needed to be made and debts had to be paid, it was on me, not Wilder.
“Genie…” He stared at me long and hard. Hearing my real name out of his mouth sounded foreign and strange, but also told me I was worrying him.
“It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. Normally he wants money. Lots and lots of money.”
“What about when he doesn’t want money?”
I knew right away where Wilder’s mind was going, and I felt guilty because I might have implied it unintentionally. Waving my hands in front of my face, I tried to chase away his fears of anything untoward or dirty.
“It’s not sex.”
His face relaxed so quickly it was like someone had flicked a light off.
God, sex would have been easy by contrast.