The Blood Deliverance (The Rose Vampire Coven #4)

CHAPTER ONE

“T hey’re our top competitor, and recently, they've brought on staff from out of town. Theatrical type people who make every encounter a performance." Victor rolled his eyes. The Falcon Nest is fast taking over the top spot in the gritty nightclub scene, and Master Rose is not pleased. The Blood Rose had held that prominence for years and he wasn’t about to take second place to a fancy interactive experience pretending to be a coarse and crude bar.

"Who are they?" Conall inquired. He and his top men sat around the table in his office, sketching out a tentative plan to take over or take down the Falcon Nest.

"Philip Lester, one of Jerry Hanover's people, owns it, or at least his name is on the paperwork," Drakon stated. "Jerry doesn't have his name on anything he owns, so not sure how much actual power Lester holds."

“None, he’s just a cover." Conall proclaimed. "Jerry owns it and makes all the decisions. He's a micro-manager and always has been. He probably even picks out the toilet paper."

"We could try to take his people, you know, the talented performers who seem to be wowing the customers." Victor continued with his previous disdain. "I think they're a flash in the pan. Nothing excites and titillates like the Blood Rose. No bartender tricks and waiter antics are going to take away from the raw desire and responding to the basest needs of mankind which we deliver on nightly.”

Conall nodded his head, but it was obvious to everyone that he was not convinced. “Send someone to check them out I want to know exactly what their draw is. What’s bringing the people in, and then we will decide from there.”

Fane Madden a coven enforcer was given the task of visiting their competitor, The Falcon Nest, over the next few nights and getting a feel for what it is that’s making them so popular. Fane worked directly under Drakon who volunteered him for the assignment. He liked a good nightclub scene and would get to the heart of what made the customers flock to this new place.

It was nearly nine o’clock when he headed out, which was when the Falcon Nest usually began to get busy. He hadn’t been to the place yet, and he did not find the theater aspect to be that interesting. He was a dark corner and blood on the floor kind of guy, not bright lights, play acting and dancing. He liked his entertainment raw and private, and the Falcon Nest was neither.

He met Samuel, a fellow enforcer in the garage. “I hear that club is hot hope you get the info you need and score big with the tourists. Some of those out of towners can be pretty kinky.”

“Is that the clientele, tourists?” he inquired as he called for a car.

“Yeah, mostly from what I hear.” He said and then added. “Enjoy yourself.” He waved and continued on his way.

“I’m sure I will.”

“James, Phil asked for you to come to his office," Andrew said as he came up to take over the bar. James was at the bar doing his regular routine and to be called away at this hour, and with the audience, he had meant it was very serious. Phil didn’t have meetings in his office at peak hours, so it probably wasn’t Phil who wanted to speak with him.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself as he walked to the stairs and went up to the second floor. Phil’s office was large and took up about a quarter of the second floor. The man like to push the look of power and control but unfortunately Phil had neither. Mr. Hanover ran everything, and no decisions were made by anyone else no matter how small.

The closer he got to Phil’s office the more his stomach tightened with fear and apprehension. It was Mr. Hanover who wanted to talk to him and that was never good.

Hanover had been making uncomfortable advances on James lately, and he didn't like it. But there was nothing he could do about it. James stood and faced the closed door and then carefully knocked just twice. Mr. Hanover didn’t like anyone who knocked more than twice. He had rules that extended to the absurd.

“Come in.” The bark was loud and angry and did not belong to Phil. James opened the door slowly and stepped inside and then closed the door behind him. He stayed by the door until he was given permission to proceed further. Mr. Hanover sat at Phil’s desk and without looking up motioned for him to come forward.

James took three slow steps and stood approximately three feet from the desk and waited while making sure he remained still and silent. These were all the rules that James had to learn and unfortunately it had been a painful lesson. Finally, he looked up and captured James with his small, beady, yellowish eyes.

Mr. Hanover was around forty-five but looked rough. His hair was thinning massively, and his skin was a pasty white with a texture that mirrored stucco. He had money, position and power so he could do pretty much whatever he wanted.

“You start work at four now instead of six, and I want you to stay and help with clean up. Is that a problem for you?” He looked like he was waiting and hoping James would object even in the slightest manner so he could backhand him or slug him somewhere that the bruises wouldn’t show. James nodded and did not speak. His disappointment was obvious.

Hanover got up and rounded the desk to stand in front of James. He looked down at him with a sneer. "You think you're special, but I could replace you tomorrow, and no one would care." He taunted and reached out to run the back of his hand down the side of James’ face. “Remember that.” He finished and stabbed his index finger into James’ chest.

“Get out and remember you don’t leave until the cleanup crew is finished.” He shouted as James left the office. It was unpleasant but as far as meetings with Mr. Hanover went, this was pretty mild. The extra hours would be without pay because they were always without pay. It was going to take him an eternity to pay off his father's debt, an absolute eternity.

Fane was dropped out front of the Falcon Nest and he stood there for a few minutes taking in the front of the rather cheesy looking bar. It called itself an edgy nightclub but came of as more a beachy themed trendy bar either way it was bringing in the customers. There was no line, no dress code or limitations other than a cover charge of twenty dollars which was common in this area.

He paid his money and entered it was nice a well decorated average bar staffed by mostly men who were scantily clad. They were attractive but there were other bars that leaned on the flesh angle and didn’t have the business that the Falcon Nest brought in. Perhaps it was a combination of aspects and offerings that drew the crowds.

As Fane approached the bar he noticed a strange aroma in the air it seemed out of place. It was the fragrance of orchids, and it hung heavily in the air. He looked around but the men standing nearby were not the source. Fane took a few deep breaths drawing in the beautiful scent and then got his mind back on his assignment. He loved the smell of orchids and assumed there must be a bouquet somewhere close.

“What’ll you have?” A young man in a white shirt and tie asked.

“A straight whiskey.” He responded and watched as the man deftly swung the expensive bottle around, rolling it down his arm in a theatrical manner. This was the show that Drakon and Samuel had referred to. It was entertaining but would get irritating if they did it for every drink that was ordered. He handed him the drink and moved on to the next customer, going through the same gyrations.

There weren’t many paranormals in the room apart from a couple of jackals that looked to be working security and a fox shifter gathering empty glasses from the tables; it looked to be primarily a human customer base. The man who ran the place, Jerry Hanover, was human, a sick little piece of shit, but he had managed to carve out a territory for himself.

He and his men were involved in most of the illegal activity in this area. This was the first time he moved into the nightclub business, and he seemed to be doing too well for it to be real. No amount of good luck or good marketing would bring in the revenue boasted by this place so quickly based on the offerings. The entertainment and staffing were interesting but not good enough to have constant crowds of customers clamoring to get in.

Fane was certain there was a sorcerer in the mix somewhere. Humans privy to the presence of the supernatural often ended up using a magic maker to boost their presence and clout. He finished his drink and returned to the bar for another and noticed the fragrance of orchids had magnified. Looking around he saw a new bartender had taken over.

The people close by commented on the fact this bartender or mixologist was beyond compare so Fane was eager to see his performance. The second that the man turned around and began tossing and mixing integrating acrobatics into the piece Fane knew who the draw was for this place.

He didn’t perform for every order like the last guy giving everyone a small, repeated performance no, he only did the complicated drinks, and he did them with a flare and enthusiasm that was hypnotic. Fane was still certain that a spell was involved but the bartender, the handsome and haunted man with the gorgeous body and gentle eyes was a big reason the place was doing well.

Fane ordered an expensive, elaborate drink in order to bring the man nearer to him. He introduced himself as James but as soon as their eyes locked the young man stuttered as if forgetting the next part of his spiel. He then stopped dropped his head and took a deep breath.

“Sorry about that he said and began his routine once again, but Fane noticed that he did not look him in the eyes again. James kept focus on Fane’s hand that was on the bar.

"No problem." Fane drawled out the two words, and James took another deep breath and went back to tossing and twirling the bottles. It wasn’t as difficult or involved as the previous routine, and Fane assumed it was because the man was feeling the same emotional excitement that he was feeling.

When he finished, and James was sliding his drink over to him, Fane ran his tongue along his lips in a tantalizing manner, and James followed the movement transfixed. Fane did it again and reached out, placing his fingertips against the back of James's hand. "When do you break?" Fane asked, and a trembling James locked eyes once again and answered.

“Thirty minutes. Meet me in the hall beyond the restrooms.” He then quickly turned and continued his bit dancing and mixing for another customer. Fane felt a strange surge of jealousy run through him at the thought of James turning away from him in order to take care of someone else. It was all he could do to control his budding anger, which was completely out of place, and he stepped away from the bar.

James was the source of the orchids and coupled with his emotional surge and senseless anger, he was pretty sure James was his beloved. The feelings rushing through him made no sense and he could not quell them. He took a seat and finished his drink a combination of citrus, whiskey and cream that was really quite abhorrent and waited.

He kept watch on the jackals by the door and the one by the stairs in back and on the fox. The small fox raced around that place clearing messes and gathering dirty glasses at a pace that was beyond most humans, but no one seemed to notice. The focus was on the bar and the men performing there. This place was an odd mix of characters and energy.