The Hellhound's Crusade

Chapter Two

Broadway Street in Nashville reminds me of Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The sidewalks and bars are both overflowing with loud, drunk tourists — their laughter and yelling practically drowning out the live music that seems to be coming from every establishment.

Maneuvering my way through the traffic and countless jaywalkers, I finally spot the alley I need to turn into. With each passing block, I notice the neighborhood slowly changing. Before I know it, I’m stopped in front of what is supposed to be the address for Club Vertigo. Only there’s no club here, just a rundown liquor store. The windows on the bottom are boarded up and as I glance to the side of the entrance, I see two bullet holes that have penetrated the glass. From here, I can see the old man sitting behind the counter. Time to see what this is all about.

Opening the door, my boots hit the pavement with a thud. Pressing the lock button on the key fob makes the beep of the truck alarm echo through the night. I push open the door and, as expected, the little bell above me rings, alerting the store that someone has entered. My head turns to the right where the old man is perched on his stool. He appears to be in his late seventies, his dark skin weathered with wrinkles and he has a full head of curly gray hair. Despite it being night, he wears sunglasses to cover his eyes. Taking my time to observe him, I watch as he sniffs the air.

“My, my. Never did I expect to come across your kind here,” he finally says. “What can I do for you?”

Before I answer, I make my way over to the counter. The closer I get to him, the stronger his scent becomes. He has it masked well, but not enough. The fluorescent lights above allow me to see past the dark lenses of his glasses. Behind them is nothing but two hallowed out holes. He’s a seer. Perhaps I am in the right spot.

“I’m looking for Veronica. I was told she would be at this address.”

He tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to elaborate, but I don’t.

“She is the popular one as of late. Fair warning hound, we won’t tolerate any trouble inside, you hear?”

A grunt is the only response I give. I watch as he reaches under the counter and I hear a loud buzzing sound. Behind him, the door marked employees only opens.

“Head straight to the bar. They’ll tell you where to find her,” the old man says as I walk past him.

As soon as I step into the hallway, I can see a door at the opposite end. Light is seeping through the cracks and I can hear the hypnotic beat of the music. Once inside, I quickly notice it looks like every other paranormal club I’ve been to in the past two weeks. The walls are painted a dark crimson red. The furnishings are black suede and the fixtures are antique nickel. It all screams gothic. It's like sups have given up and given in to the cliches that humans have created for us.

Moving through the crowd, I make my way over to the bar. There aren’t any available bar stools, so I lean up against the ledge and wait for one of the four bartenders to notice me. While waiting, my eyes scan the crowd. Spread throughout the dancefloor are small circular stages. Each one has a dancer perched on top. It’s an even mix of male and female. All of them are barely dressed, grinding their bodies in time with the music.

“What can I get you?” The female bartender places her hand on top of mine to get my attention.

“Veronica,” is my one word reply.

She eyes me up and down before her painted red lips turn up into a knowing smile. “Three hundred for the hour.”

“How much for fifteen minutes?”

My question causes her to raise her eyebrows at me. She’s confused because someone like me wouldn’t be seeking Veronica to find out where Cyrus is. I have no need for what he’s selling. So she safely assumes I want Veronica for other things - things that should definitely last longer than fifteen minutes.

“Don’t sell yourself short, big man. One fifty for thirty minutes. Double her time, double your pleasure.”

Stifling a groan, I reach into my back pocket, pull out my money clip and hand her two one-hundred-dollar bills. She quickly snatches the money off the counter.

“Sorry, no change.”

“Didn’t expect it," I reply flatly.

She gives me one final smirk and nods her head to the left. “Go that way and you’ll see a long hallway. Room number three is where you’ll find her. Enjoy!”

When I get to the hallway, I walk towards Veronica’s room. Most of the doors I pass all have a placard hanging from the knob, showing that the space is occupied. As I reach door number three, there is nothing on the handle. So instead of knocking, I walk right in.

Inside ,the room is mostly dark. The only light comes from a single bulb embedded in the ceiling, which gives off a soft purple hue. The wall in front of me is mirrored and a black leather sectional wraps around a stripper pole that sits dead center. I pick up her scent before I see her standing in the corner, hiding in the shadows. Her scent doesn’t register to me, which is odd.

“Have a seat,” she says, no louder than a whisper.

“I’m not here for that, so I’ll stand. Thank you.”

She steps out of the shadows and that's when her features become more clear. She’s standing there dressed in all black. Six-inch stiletto heels, tight leather pants that hang low on her hips, and a spaghetti strap cami top that shows off way more skin than I can handle. My eyes take in the fullness of her breasts as they practically spill out of her top. Her long brown hair falls down her back in messy waves and her honey-colored eyes never leave mine. There is an odd familiarity to her I can’t place. And the closer she gets, the harder I have to fight to maintain control.

“Sit,” she commands before pushing me down onto the couch.

Allowing myself to fall backward, I stroke the spot on my chest where the touch of her hand still lingers. Unable to control my lust, I can feel the heat growing under my skin and know my eyes must have the slightest circle of red around them. She stands unafraid and confident in front of me. Her legs slightly spread apart with her hands on her hips.

“You asked to see Veronica, no?”

“Yes,” I grunt through clenched teeth.

“Then this is exactly what you came here for.”

She walks back over to the corner, and suddenly music fills the silence. I watch as her hips sway back and forth before she grabs onto the pole with both hands. She does a half turn and I watch as her hair whips around with her. Her eyes meet mine again and I feel my fingertips tearing into the leather of the couch. Soon her heels are off the floor as she lifts herself higher on the pole. f**k, what would it feel like to have her work me like she’s working that damn pole? Slowly, she eases her way down and gracefully lands back on her feet.

She makes her way back to me and the straps of her tank top are hanging down around her elbows. What I wouldn’t give to be able to reach out and touch her, but I can’t. She makes a move to straddle me and I make the mistake of grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. Instinctively, I pull my hand off of her, but she stops me. My eyes look to where our skin meets. There is no smell of burning flesh, nor is she screaming in pain. Slowly, my eyes move back to meet hers.

“What are you?” I ask. My tone demands an answer.

“Someone powerful enough to handle you,” she smirks.

My breathing becomes more rapid as I allow her to straddle my lap. As she lowers herself down, she grinds her hips a couple of times, which causes her core to move over my hard bulge. Such a tease. She’s playing with fire here, literally. She wouldn’t be so brave if she knew how long it had been since I had felt a woman under me. But I must remain focused.

“That wasn’t an answer,” I say, refusing to play games.

“I’m just a demon hybrid who was lucky enough to inherit only the best traits from both my parents. Now tell me, why did you come here?”

My eyes search her face, trying to determine if she’s lying or not. She doesn’t have the scent of a demon. In fact, even this close to her, I still can’t tell exactly what she is. A part of me doesn’t trust her, but she is the contact I need to find Cyrus. Hopefully ending my search. Hesitating only a minute longer, I let out a sigh, releasing her from my grip.

“I was told you could get me in touch with Cyrus.”

She leans forward and I can’t help but grip onto her thighs as she moves closer to me. Her mouth is near my ear and I feel her lips brush against my skin.

“Why would someone like you be searching for a man selling immortality?”

With my nose nuzzled in her neck, I can’t help but breathe her in deep. That’s when something inside me snaps and I have the sudden urge to throw her down and scream mine. Before I can act, the door swings open with such force that it slams against the wall.

The room fills with the sudden scent of an angel.

“What the f**k are you two doing in my room?” She screams.

The woman on my lap looks at me and then bites her lip coyly before answering her.

“We’re both waiting for you, Veronica.”