“Oh, honey,” she drawled. “If you’re gonna hit the clubs you gotta look the part. You can’t go turning up like some Girl Scout.”
“Let’s just get this over with,” I grumbled.
“Fine by me.” Asia grinned and pointed an eyelash curler at me as if it were a deadly weapon.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I was unrecognizable. Every loop and natural kink in my hair had been ironed out, my mouth was a sticky berry-colored pout and silver-blue eye shadow glittered on my lids. Bronzing powder covered my face, giving my naturally pale skin a sun-kissed look. Earrings in the shape of giant fans hung from my ears and the false lashes Asia had glued above my own tickled when I closed my eyes. She had even sprayed my legs with fake tan from a golden bottle and I smelled like a giant coconut.
My transformation appeared to render Tucker speechless. “Beth, is that you under there?” he said. “You look … um … very …”
“Quit your drooling, farm boy,” Asia snapped. “Now let’s make tracks.”
“You’re coming?” he asked.
“Sure. Why not? You got a problem with that?” Asia’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“No problem at all,” Tucker said. He looked at me meaningfully, concluding that this must be Jake’s idea of an insurance policy.
When the three of us left the penthouse suite and came down to the lobby, everybody stopped to watch us in unison.
My new attire may not have felt right for an angel, but it did make me feel better equipped to cope with the dangers that might be waiting in the murky tunnels of Hades. I was keen to get going and start my search for the elusive portals. I knew it was dangerous, but for once I wasn’t intimidated. I felt as if I’d been kept in the dark, both literally and metaphorically, for weeks.
I purposely ignored the appreciative smiles from the hotel staff as we sailed out of the revolving doors. I was fast learning that manners and friendliness weren’t the way to go if I wanted to gain any respect in Hades. Outside a uniformed doorman tipped his hat and signaled to a long black limousine that crawled silently up to collect us.
“Mr. Thorn ordered a car for you,” the doorman announced.
“How thoughtful of him,” I said grudgingly as I slid into the backseat with Tucker. Even when he wasn’t there Jake liked to keep a tight hold of the reins.
Asia sat up front. The driver appeared to know her and they chatted briefly about mutual contacts. From behind the partition of tinted glass, Tucker and I caught muffled fragments of their conversation.
“Stay close at Hex,” Tucker advised. “I’m told it draws an interesting crowd.” I didn’t ask for his definition of interesting. I would soon find out for myself.
The club district of Hades was very different from where Hotel Ambrosia was located. The hotel appeared to be in a more remote area while the club district was a maze of tunnels with metal doors set in concrete walls. The bouncers guarding the entrances looked like clones with their crew cuts and expressionless faces. The way the music spilled out with its rhythmic beat made you feel like the place had a heartbeat of its own. The effect was claustrophobic.
Club Hex was located at some distance from the others, accessible via a separate tunnel. When Asia flashed her pass I realized entry here was by invitation only. Once inside I understood why. The first thing I noticed was the scent of expensive cigars in the air. Hex wasn’t so much a nightclub as a gaming room for the Hades’ elite to wile away their time. Its main patrons were high-ranking demons of both sexes. They all moved with the agility of panthers and shared a preoccupation with vanity, which was evidenced by their glamorous attire. Not all of them were demons. Some I could see were human — not souls, but flesh and blood, like Hanna and Tuck. I understood without having to ask that they were there for the express purpose of pleasuring their masters.
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: “I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin’. I see bad times today.”
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 trying to draw attention or what?”
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—”