Bomber parked the motorcycle in the back. Ink was there, smoking a cigarette. He grinned at Bomber. “Welcome home, Boss.”
Bomber swung off the bike and grinned back. The two men clasped forearms in a firm Warrior’s greeting. “You were missed,” Ink said.
“Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ Arachnos bureaucracy. I see the place is still standing.”
“Heh, so far.”
“No trouble?”
“Lost a couple more Bitten.”
Bomber sighed. That brought the amount of Bitten down to eight.
“Got a few more VIP’s.”
“Few?”
“Two chicks, and some dandy.”
Bomber frowned. “Great.” He patted Ink’s arm. “See you inside.”
It was Wednesday night, so the music was 80’s, conductive to the light show that Dominic was doing. He was there until about ten, and then the place closed two hours later.
He went into the club, nodding to the bouncers as he walked by. He opened the door, and was assaulted by Ah-Ha’s “Take on Me.” Anilia, dressed in a thin gossamer gown, was at the coat-checker’s section, and she ran out to hug him tightly. She kissed him there in the foyer.
“Missed me?” he asked with a small chuckle.
She held onto him. “Don’t go over there again.”
“I might have to.”
“We don’t need a bar in Sharkhead that badly.”
“Maybe not Sharkhead, but Port Oakes.” He gently pushed her away. “I need to talk to you.”
“Your office?”
“Yes.”
She dutifully followed him to his office. She closed the door and looked up at him with lidded eyes. He knew she was trying to use her own dominate on him.
“Not right now,” he said.
She pouted a bit, sat down, the gown clinging to her, showing her hardened nipples through the thin fabric. “What’s wrong? Did you meet someone there?”
“Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t have anything to do with what I want to talk about.” He walked around the desk and sat down across from her. She sat up, knowing now that this was serious. “How’s business?”
“We’re just a little in the red, not like it has been.”
“And I heard we lost more Bitten.”
“I have some people on file.”
“How long is this going to go on? We’re not going to give them permanent tattoos anymore.”
“What? But they like the tattoos—“
“Now, they do. They’re going to regret it when they’re going out into the world. Instead, they’re going to wear uniforms.”
“Uniforms?”
“T-shirts with our logo, white, though.”
“That’ll cost some money, and some of them come here dressed up.”
“Then what do you suggest? Because if we release these people, and they start talking about the real reason we’re here—“
“They already are sworn to secrecy, Bruce. They won’t go against you.”
“Oh? Then why did they quit?”
Anilia looked at the desk.
“The Blood Bond can only go so far, Anilia.”
“Did you feed them? Or give them the Kiss enough? Or—“
“You’re going to blame me now?” His eyes darkened.
“No, no! I was just thinking of why—“
“I’ve given them blood, I’ve Kissed them, I’ve fucked them. What the hell more do you want me to do?”
“Hire them as employees.”
“Hire them! We don’t make enough money as it is.”
“And have the VIP’s pay for the privilege of having a ready-made meal.”
Bomber gazed at the dead computer screen, thinking.
“Tell them they have a weekly or monthly fee, say, a thousand dollars per person, and they come in and have an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
“How many consistent VIP’s do we have?”
“Ten, sometimes upward of 12 some nights.”
“And eight Bitten.”
“Right.”
He exhaled, a habit more than anything. “Okay, let’s try it your way. We’ll lose some of the VIP’s probably.”
“But at least they know what they’re paying for – clean and pliant people.” She smiled at him, “You could talk to the Prince.”
“No,” he said quickly. That meant going to Lorenco, hat in hand, begging. He already owed him too much, he didn’t want to owe him money, too. “I won’t debase myself.”
“Now can you feed me?” asked Anilia, standing up, undoing the ties at her shoulders and letting the gossamer gown fall into a pool at her feet.