The club’s decor with its baroque flavor was dramatic and suggested the opulence of a long-gone era. There were classical statues, marble pillars, chairs richly upholstered in black velvet, swags of silk curtains and ornate, carved mirrors on every wall. I recognized the song that filtered through the speakers in the ceiling. I’d heard it before in Xavier’s car although it seemed much more fitting here:
Some guests sat at small tables with fringed lampshades, sipping cocktails and watching pole dancers wearing what looked like beaded lingerie. At the central tables the high rollers were engrossed in various games. I recognized the more established games, like poker and roulette, but one called the Lucky Wheel puzzled me at first. Some half a dozen players sat around a table watching small computer screens. The screens showed a mass of people on a dance floor. Each dancer appeared to be represented by a different icon on the wheel. The dealer spun the wheel and the player won if it finished on the icon they’d chosen. It would have struck me as mindless had I not seen for myself the torture that lay in store for the dancers in the pit.
There was nothing secret or clandestine about the patrons of Club Hex. Behavior that might have been deemed objectionable on earth was openly flaunted here. Couples engaged publicly in what could only be described as foreplay as well as unashamedly snorting lines of white powder from countertops and popping pastel-colored pills like candy. Some of the demons were rough in handling their human counterparts and the alarming thing was that the recipients seemed to enjoy being mistreated. The total absence of moral parameters was sickening.
I started having doubts about being there at all let alone seeking out information about portals. The confidence I’d started out with was fast evaporating.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, after all,” I said, wavering. Tuck said something in response that I couldn’t hear above the din of the music. All eyes turned toward me when I entered, despite my attempt to blend in and appear inconspicuous. Some of the demons even sniffed the air as though they could smell that I didn’t belong. The ones nearest to us sidled closer, their shark eyes glinting. Tuck wrapped an arm around my shoulder and steered me toward the bar, where I hopped onto a stool, thankful for his protective presence.
Asia ordered us vodka shots. She downed hers in an instant and slammed her glass down while I sipped tentatively at mine.
“It’s not cordial, sugar,” she mocked. “Are you
I flashed her a defiant look then tipped my head back and gulped down the contents of my glass. The vodka had no taste but rather coursed down my throat like liquid fire. I followed her example and slammed down my empty glass triumphantly before realizing it was a signal for the bartender to refill it. I left the second glass untouched. My head was already swimming and Tucker was glaring at me. Then Asia said something that came out of the blue and caught both of us by surprise.
“I think I can help you find what you’re looking for.”
“We’re just here to have some fun,” Tuck said once he’d recovered.
“Sure you are. I can tell by that look on your face,” sneered Asia. “Cut the crap, Tucker. It’s me you’re talking to. I know what you want and I may have a contact who can offer some advice.”
“You’re helping us?” I asked bluntly. “Why?”
Asia’s tone was condescending. “Well, I’d rather not help you, but his majesty appears to have developed a schoolboy crush, which some would call downright embarrassing. I feel it’s my duty as a loyal subject to do what I can to help him get over it. And I figure the best way to do that—”
“Is by getting Beth the hell out of here,” Tucker finished for her as if it made perfect sense.
“Exactly.” Asia directed her attention to me. “Believe me, I never do anything that doesn’t benefit me and right now I’d love nothing more than to see the back of you. Hopefully before any real damage is done to the Third Circle.”
I remembered Hanna mentioning the Third Circle back when I’d arrived, but I didn’t understand why it was under threat.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“Asia’s referrin’ to the rebel faction that wants to see Jake brought down,” Tuck explained. “They feel he’s been neglectin’ his duties of late.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said. “How can a faction of demons plot against their leader?”
Asia rolled her eyes. “Jake isn’t just a demon, he’s a fallen angel. He’s one of the Originals, the ones who fell with Big Daddy right from the very beginning. There are eight of them, the Eight Princes of the Eight Circles. Of course, Lucifer himself presides over the ninth … the hottest circle of Hell.”
“So if there were only eight original demons,” I said slowly, “all the others must have been created by them.”
“Oh, wow,” Asia said mockingly. “Not just a pretty face. Yes, the Originals run the show. The other demons have no real control, they’re disposable, nothing but worker bees. The favored ones are assigned to the torture chambers or invited into the beds of the power players. Sometimes they band together to try and overthrow one of the Originals. Course, they always fail.”
“What if they were found out?” I asked.
“Jake would slaughter them all.”
“There ain’t nothing the Originals won’t do to protect themselves,” Tucker said. “Jake more than anyone.”
“So how does this rebel faction plan to overthrow him?” I asked.
“They don’t do much,” Asia shrugged. “They’re idiots mostly, waiting around for a chance to damage his power.”
“I thought you were his biggest supporter,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. Maybe we could bargain with Asia after all. “Why haven’t you told him about this?”
“It never hurts to keep a few things to yourself,” Asia said.
“Are the rebels angry with Jake because of me?” I asked.
“Yep.” Asia threw up her hands. “They’ve expressed their concerns but Jake won’t listen.” She sneered at me. “There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”
“Aren’t you putting yourself in danger by helping us?”
“Haven’t you heard the expression ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? Let’s just say my ego is wounded.”
“Can you tell us what you know about the portals?” Tucker asked.
“I didn’t say I knew anything. But there is someone out back who might. His name’s Asher.”
Heavy drapery across a back wall led to an alleyway where a demon in an Italian suit was waiting for us. Asher turned out to be in his mid-thirties. He was tall with dark hair cropped close and a face like a Roman emperor. A cowlick fell across his forehead and there were pockmarks on his cheeks. He was chewing on a toothpick, unaware that he looked like a cliche from a gangster movie. His nose was slightly hooked and he had the same flat shark eyes that identified him as a demon. He was leaning against the wall but moved gracefully forward upon seeing us. He looked me up and down; his curiosity quickly replaced by disapproval.
“That outfit isn’t fooling anyone, sweetheart,” he said. “You don’t belong here.”
“Well, at least we agree on one thing,” I replied. “Are you with the rebels?”
“Sure am,” Asher said. “And I’ve got exactly two minutes so listen up. What you’re looking for you won’t find in this district. The portals take many forms, but the one I’ve heard most about is in the Wasteland, outside the tunnels.”
“I didn’t know there was anything beyond the tunnels,” I said.
“Course there is,” Asher sneered at me. “Nothing living of course. Only lost souls roaming until the trackers drag them back.”
“How will we recognize it?”
“The portal? Look for the tumbleweed drifting back and forth across the Wasteland. When you leave here head south and keep going. You’ll know when you find it … if you make it that far.”
“How do I know we can trust you?” I asked.
“Because I want to see Jake burn as much as you do. He treats us like dirt and we’re sick of it. If he loses his conquest so soon, his power will be challenged and we might have a chance of overthrowing him.”
I saw Asia roll her eyes behind Asher’s back and wondered how far-fetched his plan really was. It didn’t
