“Then we can have that time together, Matt.”
I shook my head. “I won’t do that to you. I can’t. We know how we feel about each other-know it in a way that two people who haven’t been linked never could. Right now that has to be enough. If I’m lucky, in a couple days, I’ll still be here, and then we can continue this conversation where it left off. I promise.”
A crimson tear pooled at the corner of her right eye. “And if you aren’t lucky?”
I grinned. “Would you smack me if I said we’ll always have the glen?”
She squeezed my hand and I squeezed right back.
“Well, look who we have here! If it isn’t Matthew Richter, the man who helped supply me with the best bouncer I’ve ever had!”
We looked up to see a tall, striking woman in a tuxedo striding confidently toward us. She wore her bright orange hair in a buzz cut, and her cherry-red lipstick contrasted with her ice-blue eyes. She stopped when she reached our table. There were only two chairs, and we were currently occupying them. I offered mine, but Bennie declined.
“Thank you, Matt, but there’s no need.” In a louder voice, Bennie said, “The first person who offers their chair gets two minutes alone with me in the Correctionary.”
A near-riot ensued as men, women, and creatures of indeterminate species and gender fought to be the first to get a chair to Bennie, but in the end, a man with iron spikes jutting forth from his flesh like he was some sort of industrial porcupine won. He held the chair as Bennie sat.
“Thank you, love,” Bennie said then added, with a dark twinkle in her eye, “Let’s make it two and a half minutes, shall we? Don’t go far; I’ll come for you later. Or vice versa.”
Spike-man looked so overwhelmed, I thought he might pass out, but he managed to hold onto consciousness long enough to thank Bennie before heading straight for the bar, no doubt intending to get some heavy-duty pharmacological assistance to prepare for his 180 seconds in the Correctionary with Bennie. If even a tenth of what I’ve heard about her skills is true, I figured he’d need it. Everyone else in the lounge was glaring jealously at Spike-man, and he was lucky no one present possessed the evil eye, or he would’ve been dead before he got two steps away from our table.
“Thanks for the floor show, Bennie,” I said. “Do you take requests?”
She let out a hearty laugh. “You wish!”
I turned to Devona. “Devona Kanti, may I present the owner of the House of Dark Delights, Madame Benedetta.”
Bennie reached out to take Devona’s hand in the way some women will, intending to clasp it gently from underneath and give it a gentle squeeze. But halfway across the table, Bennie’s slender fingers swelled and the slight reddish hair on the back of her hand became more pronounced. Bennie took Devona’s hand in a masculine grip and gave it a good shake.
“Pleased to meet you,” Bennie said in a voice that had suddenly grown deeper. “You’re far too lovely to be keeping company with such a rough customer as Matt. However did the two of you meet?”
Devona stared at Bennie. His shoulders were broader, neck thicker, the lipstick was gone, and he sported a mustache and goatee the same bright orange shade as his hair. Bennie was still just as striking as before, but he most definitely was-
“A man?” Devona said.
“Occasionally,” Bennie said. “There are so many pleasures to be had from life. Why limit yourself to experiencing them from only one perspective?”
“And now, Devona, you’ve also met Master Benedict,” I said.
“But you can call me Bennie,” our host said. “It makes things so much simpler.”
Devona gave me an amused glance. “So I’ve heard.”
“An ancestor of mine was a chemist who once tried to use specialized drugs to distill the good in man’s nature and separate it from the evil,” Bennie said. “My goals are somewhat less lofty. I use his formulae-along with some of my own devising-to make a buck or two.” He gestured toward his body. “And, as you’ve seen, to enjoy myself. I also helped developed most of the aphrodisiacs and performance-enhancers we serve at the bar, although I must admit, my Arcane employees have helped a great deal with those formulae which require magic. And speaking of formulae…”
Bennie sat back and lifted his hand, and the werecat was instantly there, with a glass of scotch to put in it. Or at least, it looked like scotch. I wondered if it wasn’t the special libation that allowed him and/or her to switch back and forth between genders.
“Thank you, Lourdes. That will be all…” Bennie gave her a smoldering look. “For now.”
“Promises, promises.” The werecat purred as she slinked off to see to other customers.
Bennie took a sip of his drink. “Lyra told me you needed my help with something. After what you did for that sweet child, Matt-not to mention what you did to the bastard who killed her-I’m forever in your debt. Whatever you need, just name it.”
I spent the next few minutes giving Bennie the rundown on why we were there.
After winning our freedom from the Wyldwood, Devona and I returned to the Broken Cross, hoping that Shrike might know something about the veinburn dealer Morfran. Shike told us that Morfran was demon kin of a particularly rare insectine subspecies who mated only during a three-week period every year. This was the middle of week two for Morfran. It seemed he’d come into quite a bit of money recently-I could guess how-and that lately he’d been spending a good portion of his funds at the House of Dark Delights. According to Shrike, Morfran had been visiting the House several hours every day.
“Father Dis, do I know him!” Bennie said when I was finished. As I’d talked, she’d switched genders again and was at the moment a woman. “If you look up the word indefatigable in the dictionary, you’ll find only a drawing of that disgusting little bug. But his darkgems are as good as anyone else’s, and he certainly has a lot of them to spend. I’m not sure if he’s here now, though. Descension Day is our busiest time of the year, Matt, and the customers come and go so quickly.” She grinned at her own pun, but quickly grew serious again. “So you think Morfran sold the drug which killed Devona’s brother?”
“According to Gregor, there’s a good chance he did. We need to talk to him, Bennie-and we need him to give us some answers.”
“I see.” Bennie’s scotch glass was empty. She held it up, and Lourdes swooped by to snatch it out of her hand and replace it with a fresh one. Bennie sipped as she thought. Then an idea came to her and she slowly smiled.
‘I think I know how can help you. You know my motto: Better living through chemistry. ” And her smiled became a broad grin.
Devona glanced at the four-sided clock mounted on a metal pole in the middle of the bar. Nekropolis follows standard Earth time: twenty-four hour days, seven-day weeks, twelve-month years-not that it means very much when you live beneath Umbriel’s perpetual dusk and, like me, you don’t need to sleep. Bennie had left us some time ago, to see about one thing or another. A gender-switching brothel owner’s work is never done.
“We’ve been waiting here almost an hour,” she said. “Maybe Morfran’s already left.”
“We’d have seen him.” All of the House’s customers had to pass through the lounge in order to get to and leave the rooms. Bennie didn’t make nearly as much money on booze and drugs as she did sex, but she wanted to squeeze as many darkgems out of her customers as she could before sending them back into the streets, so she made certain her clientele had two opportunities to sit down and have a couple drinks. And, after hoisting a few on their way out, if they decided they’d rested up enough and were ready for another go, why, they could just head right back on through the lounge, and hire themselves some more fun.
I’d heard it said that Bennie is as wealthy as any Darklord. I wouldn’t doubt it.