Chapter Eleven

A Reluctant Intervention

            Friday night found Alice in front of the mirror, trying on every piece of clothing she owned. What does one wear to a Selective club? She decided she would do her best to look like a Witch - only, what did a Witch wear?

Eventually Alice narrowed it down to the little black hat with the netting that dropped over one eye, a form fitting red silk top with black buttons and a knee length black skirt with leather ankle boots. She examined the mirror and barely recognized herself.

Alice smiled, and the dark skinned woman in the mirror smiled back with cherry red lips. She never wore lipstick, but tonight she’d been daring. She chose a small bag decorated with red and black silk roses and decided she was ready. Locking the door behind her, she descended to the shop. Threads was dark, but Alice could see clearly; the streets of New York were always lit, bright lights shining through the windows, illuminating the shelves and their treasures, throwing long shadows into dark corners.

Gabriel was already waiting, dressed in dark jeans and a suit jacket. He wore a black fedora over his shoulder length hair, and Alice thought he looked particularly dashing.

His eyes sparkled. “I’m glad we both dressed for the occasion. You look amazing.”

            “Thank you.” Alice tried to keep her blushing to a minimum. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

            “That’s perfect.” Gabriel offered his arm teasingly. “M’lady, are you ready to depart?”

            “Thank you sir,” Alice took his arm, letting him guide her to through door and down the street. The night air was cold, and the bright lights illuminated the fog of their breath. She could hear the deep throb of music in the distance.

            “Just around the corner,” Gabriel said.

            “Do you think they’ll serve all the normal drinks?” Alice walked quickly beside him, her boots clacking sharply on the sidewalk. “If I order a Bloody Mary, will there really be blood in it?”

            “All Selective places offer both,” Gabriel explained. “So you may want to clarify.”

            “I’ll say,” Alice muttered. “That would be a bit of a shock.”

            The minute they turned the corner they could see the line at the door.  Alice looked up at the red velvet awning, and etched on it in curling golden script was the word “Rapture”. They stepped into line behind a very large black man and two blonde girls who looked at Alice, running bright eyes over her, challenging her. They each had thick lace chokers around their necks, but one of the girls had failed to cover up a pair of marks just above the collar. They were obviously the man’s familiars. Alice kept her face carefully blank, making sure her disgust didn’t show. It would do no good to pick a fight so she ignored them, talking to Gabriel until they reached the bouncer, a towering man who looked them both over and asked for ID.

“Alice Cunningham.” The man gripped her ID and looked at her more closely. “Of Threads?”

            “Yes,” Alice said slowly - she didn’t recognize the man; she would have remembered a giant like him if he’d come in to the shop.

            “Welcome to Rapture, Miss. You and your friend can go on in.”

            “Thanks.” Alice took her ID back, giving him a suspicious look.

            “How does he know you?” Gabriel asked, as they descended the steep staircase into the club.

            “I have no idea. That was really weird.”

            “They didn’t make us pay,” Gabriel said.

            “I know. I don’t know why.”

            “They know you here, obviously. Maybe because of your Aunt?”

            Alice nodded. “I dunno, maybe. You think he would have said so.”

            Gabriel shrugged. “Weird, well I’m not going to complain about not paying.”

            “Me either.” Alice stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared around the club. “Wow.”

            The inside of Rapture was huge. Lights flashed and speakers throbbed with the deep base notes of an Alexie Ambrose song.  What really made it different were the people. There were girls in club wear, in tight tops and short skirts, but there were also women in long sweeping robes, some even had pointed hats. One woman was talking to the bartender, a broom leaning against the bar beside her. Werewolves walked around half wolfed out, hair all over. Fairies pranced around with wings in full view, and some even took flight off the bar and whizzed about at ceiling height, looping around in drunken spirals. Magic was everywhere, draped from every roof beam, woven into the very building itself.

            “This is crazy.” Alice stared in awe.

            “It’s great - a place we can all come and be ourselves.”

            Alice stared around with wide eyes.  Groups of people sat drinking and talking at the booths. She spotted people leaning against the leather seats, heads lolling, throats exposed to their partners.

“Vampires,” whispered Alice. “Lots of them.”

            “Vampires like a healthy night life,” Gabriel kept his voice low. “It gives them opportunity.” Alice placed a hand over her neck protectively.  Too recently she had felt the prick of a knife tip at her throat. She did not want to feel sharp teeth there.

            “Don’t worry. “Gabriel had noticed her gesture. “Most won’t touch a Witch without her permission, too risky.”

            “What’s the risk if they kill a Witch?”

Gabriel’s smile was predatory. “Her friends.”  They made their way to the bar, and Alice took a seat on one of the stools.

            “What’ll it be?” The bartender, a tall woman with straight blonde hair tucked behind pointed ears, looked bored. Alice ordered a margarita and Gabriel asked for a beer.  

            “Thanks.” Alice slid her bill when she handed them the drinks, indicating that she wanted no change. The woman gave her an appreciative nod.

            “Hey,” Gabriel said, “You had better let me get the next one.”

            Alice smiled. “You can count on it. Mmm…can’t remember the last time I’ve had one of these.” She remembered exactly the last time. It had been at a party with Jason. They had opened the liquor cabinet and made margaritas.  Of course, Jason had had too much, and after walking home arm and arm, singing a raucous and terrible duet together, he had ended up hugging the base of the toilet all night. Typical Jason.  She stared down at the red slushy drink. Now why had that memory surfaced?

            “Are you okay?”

            She looked up at Gabriel’s concerned face. “I’m fine.”

            They watched the crowd mill about, women flirting with men, men picking up women, vampires picking up whoever they could.  Men eyed her as they walked past. She found herself thrilled that Gabriel glared at anyone who looked for too long. The DJ, a dreadlocked Werewolf with a huge beard, started playing driving dance music, and Gabriel nudged her.

“Do you dance?”

            Alice blushed at the thought of dancing with Gabriel. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

            Gabriel didn’t interpret her hesitation correctly, because he laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not a very good dancer either.”

            “Well…okay.”  Alice put down her empty glass and followed him onto the crowded dance floor. It didn’t matter that he was an employee. There wasn’t anything between them.  It was just a fun night out to forget the stressful events of the week. Gabriel was a very good dancer, despite his claim to the contrary. Alice suspected that it came with the territory of being an Elf.  She had always felt like she was too awkward to dance, her skinny frame probably looked something like a wooden marionette.  Nobody on the dance floor seemed to have any reservations though. There were people writhing and sweating, bumping into one another and stepping on everybody’s feet. One Fairy was swaying drunkenly back and forth in time with the music, mumbling along with the lyrics and stumbling into anyone who got too close to her. Someone bumped into her from behind and Alice turned. The man only came up to her shoulder, and a pair of curly horns sprouted from his thick black hair. She looked down in astonishment. He wasn’t wearing any pants; his legs were covered in fur and ended in hooves instead of shoes.

“Beg your pardon,” the little man said cheerfully.

“Oh, er...that’s alright.” She watched him wiggle his way back into the crowd, ducking under people’s arms and scooting between legs.

Gabriel had been watching her in amusement. “That was a Satyr. Half man, half goat.”

Alice nodded dumbly, and then gave a little squeak as the crowd around her swept back like the tide, and Gabriel grabbed her arm, pulling her back behind the DJ booth. A huge man walked through the dance floor, and people cleared a path with astonishing speed. He was taller than anyone she’d ever seen. He wore a white suite with a blue tie, and crystal studded tie clip. His immaculately styled hair was as white as bleach. As he cut across the dance floor his shoes left shiny, slippery patches, and the people nearest to him breathed out clouds of white fog.

            “What is he?” Alice shouted into Gabriel’s ear so he could hear her above the music.

Gabriel cupped his hands around her ear.

            “Frost Giant. If you ever see anyone that looks like him, stay well out of his way. Apparently they can freeze you with one look if they want to, and they’re known for being temperamental.”

            Once the Frost Giant had passed by the crowd flowed back in place, and everyone resumed dancing as though nothing had happened. Alice kept looking around as they danced, almost hoping to catch a glimpse of the huge man again. Gabriel nudged her, pointing out a couple girls that lingered on the edge of the dance floor.

“Look there. Those are Succubus, like I was telling you about.”  The women were both tall and leggy; they wore short, skin tight dresses and bright red lipstick. Each woman had a long black forked tail that snaked up over her shoulder. They were scary looking, but there was something else about them, a kind of carnal hunger, wild and desperate.

“They look like…” Alice trailed off, embarrassed.

            “Prostitutes?” Gabriel nodded. “That’s because most of the prostitutes hanging out on street corners are Succubus. It’s the logical career choice for them. They lure the man in, suck his life force and take his money.”

Alice could feel her eyes grow huge. “Seriously? So even Regs can see them?”

            “Yup, except for the tail, of course.  Regs can’t see magic, so they just look like normal prostitutes to them. A Reg that picks up Succubi will never know what hit him. He’ll think he had a fine old time with a regular working girl.”

            “Oh, that’s weird.” And gross. She tried to think of something to change the subject.

 “I’m just going to run to the ladies room. Can I meet you back here?”

            “Meet me back at the bar,” he suggested. “I’ll grab another drink so I’m not dancing by myself.”  Alice looked at the drunken Fairy that had been spinning in circles by herself on the dance floor, bumping into anyone who came near her.

“Probably for the best.”

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