A rhythmic beat spilled into the street. The tall, brawny vampire at the door sported leather and multiple arm tattoos. He reminded Ari of the vamp in Toronto, except this guy was even bigger.
Ari started for the door, still thinking about the tattoos and the feeling of déjà vu she’d had with the tattooed vamp in Toronto.
Andreas nudged her arm. “Are you certain you want to go inside?
“Why not?” Ari gave the place a once over. The sign read Sin & Skin. Knowing vampires, that could mean anything. “Is it illegal?”
“Not exactly,” he said dryly. “It is a vampire strip club.”
“Male or female strippers?”
“Female usually. Both upon occasion.”
“Oh. Well…” Women were definitely not her cup of tea. Nor were strip clubs for that matter, but no big deal either. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Might be the kind of place our wolves would go.”
Ari strode toward the door. The bouncer checked them out, quirked a look at Andreas, and motioned them through the entrance.
The club was dark and smoky; it smelled of beer and cigarettes. Prior to the no smoking bans, this had been typical bar atmosphere throughout Riverdale. Now only the vampire strip remained immune to the bans. Since vampires, and most Otherworlders for that matter, didn’t have to worry about lung cancer, smoking was allowed. Ari thought they should show a little more consideration for the human tourists. The music was loud and sensual, with a tropical beat. Three female vamps, in various stages of dress or undress, were pole dancing to the sultry music. After a quick glance that made her wonder if the undead could still get implants, Ari concentrated on the crowd.
She saw a mixture of tourists and locals, but no one who resembled the police photos of the wolves. She began to push her way toward the bar, ready to show the mug shots to the bartender.
Andreas spoke in her ear. “I don’t see any indication of our pack. Shall we call it quits for tonight?”
Ari frowned at him. “Without talking to the barkeep? Do you have somewhere else to be?” A late date?
“Don’t say I did not try,” he murmured in her ear.
Sudden drums began a heavy beat, drowning out anything else Andreas might have said. The overhead lights went out. A spotlight appeared. Strobe lights flashed, and a female vamp with large breasts and long legs glided onto the stage. A red scarf draped around her neck, and three tiny triangles of red silk covered the most critical spots. She held a knife in her teeth. The predominately male crowd shouted as she gyrated her hips and swirled the scarf to the beat of the drums.
A male werelion climbed out of the audience onto the stage. He mirrored her movements and reached out one hand, capturing the top two triangles. As he bent his head and bit into a bare breast, the audience stomped and howled. Ari had been wrong; she hadn’t seen this before.
Her feet seemed rooted by the spectacle, the violent, sexual display. When the dancer transferred the knife to her hand, Andreas took Ari’s arm and steered her toward the door. As they reached the exit, Ari saw Sheila.
“There she is! The she-wolf.” Ari dove back into the unruly mob, shoving toward the place she had spotted the wolf. Andreas stayed with her, searching from his greater height. Fights began to break out as the crowd stormed the stage. Bar staff waded in with clubs and Tasers. When Andreas and Ari failed to find any trace of the she-wolf, he finally dragged her outside.
“Are you positive it was Sheila?” he asked.
Was she? It was a brief glance, and all she had to go on was a mug shot. “Pretty sure.”
They circled the building, hanging around until the show was over and the bar began to empty. They scanned every patron. When only stragglers remained, Ari was forced to accept she’d been wrong or Sheila had gotten away.
“I guess we’re done for tonight.” As they started up the street, Ari’s curiosity made her ask, “Back there, were they really going to do it? Right on stage?”
“Yes. And much more,” he said with a straight face. He struggled to suppress a laugh.
She didn’t ask what he meant by ‘much more.’ Knowing vamps and werewolves, and with a knife involved, she figured blood was a prime ingredient. She wasn’t sorry she missed the rest of the performance. There might be less desirable activities than having kinky, bloodletting sex on a public stage,