Heart of a Dragon

Chapter Eleven

Donovan and Amethyst stepped into Club Chaos from the entrance on Forty-Second Street. They didn't have an appointment, so The Crossroads wasn't the right destination. They needed to get into the more crowded areas of the club and see who they could shake out of the rafters. They were dressed for a night on the town, Amethyst in a long, dark gown, open down her back and slit at the sides. Donovan wore his customary dark trench coat, and he'd grabbed a black fedora to complete the ensemble. They didn't want to stand out, and dressing too conservatively would have done that as quickly, possibly more quickly, than taking their appearance too far. Club Chaos served a particular crowd…those who didn't belong were usually not hard to spot, and each inner den had its regulars.

"Where to first?" Amethyst asked.

"I think the pool room," Donovan said. "I know a guy who might be in there, and if not there are a few regulars that hail from the Barrio. Last time I was there I even saw one of Anya Cabrera's goons."

"The bald ones?"

"The same," Donovan said. "It was one of the only times I've ever seen one of them out of her site, or out of the Barrio. He must have been on an errand. I didn't bother to try and talk with him."

Amethyst nodded. "Probably wise. Either he'd have gone for your throat, or just clammed up and reported your curiosity."

Donovan nodded. They ducked past the doormen, and entered a long hallway. To either side, shorter passageways led to a variety of inner bars. Music pounded through the speakers in the hallway, and as they passed the entrances to the various clubs, they pulsed with sound — a different variety and volume from each. Rock, Industrial, Swing — even Country. There was something for everyone at Club Chaos, assuming one knew where to look. Donovan knew that the acoustics had been enhanced by other-than-mundane methods. There was no other place like it on Earth…or, at least not in San Valencez.

They made their way to the back of the main passage and followed the hallway to the left. As they continued, the sound of balls being racked and the snap of cues slamming into balls echoed off the walls.

"Busy." Amethyst said.

"Better for us. The more people there are, the better chance we'll find someone who knows what's going on. We probably don't have that much time. If Martinez is desperate enough to hit us both up on the same day and risk our finding out, then something bad is happening, and soon."

"There's a small Voodoo contingent in the city, as well as in the Barrio," Amethyst said. "There are plenty who go in just for what Anya has for sale. If we're lucky, we'll find one of them here, playing dark priest for the local girls."

They entered the pool hall slowly and scanned the tables. There was a booth near the first table, and they headed for it. Most of the seats were full, and all of the pool tables were doing a brisk business. Even the stools at the bar were occupied.

"You get the booth, I'll get the drinks," Donovan said.

Amethyst wound her way to the empty booth and took a seat, taking in her surroundings as she went. Donovan rounded the four small pool tables toward the bar. There were a lot of faces to process, and it was a rough crowd. He recognized several of them, but no one he thought would be of any help. At the bar, he ordered two draft beers and turned back toward the table.

A tall young man had stepped up to the end of their booth. Amethyst stared up at him, and Donovan smiled. He hoped she left enough of the boy in one piece to keep the rest of the club's patrons from either turning on them en masse or clearing out. He hurried his steps.

The young man slid into the booth beside Amethyst, and Donovan cursed under his breath. As he stepped closer he heard the boy give out a short yelp. Donovan slid in and was about to speak, then stopped. Amethyst had her unwanted visitor by the collar. In her other hand she held a jewel encrusted mirror so that he was forced to look into it.

"Let me go," the boy said. "I didn't mean nothin'…"

"You didn't mean anything," Donovan cut in helpfully. "Anything. If you didn't mean 'nothin' then it would mean that you did mean something, you see?"

The boy tried to turn and stare at Donovan, but he couldn't pull free.

"Just look into the mirror," Amethyst said softly. "Take a look at what you see, and then I'll let you go."

The boy should've fought. He should have yanked back and tried to drag her out, or hoped that his collar tore and he got free, but instead, he looked straight into the small mirror. He started to scream, but Amethyst slammed her other hand over his mouth and held him. She leaned close then, brushed her lips close to his ear, and whispered something Donovan couldn't quite make out. Then she let the boy go and gave him a little push that sent him staggering back through the tables.

He bumped into one table, sloshed beer over the top of a full pitcher and brought a string of curses and blows from those he disturbed. Then he turned toward the door. The boy ran out of the club so quickly that the room fell momentarily silent, watching his retreat. After a moment, the sound of someone breaking a rack shattered the silence. The room came back to life like a slow turning movie reel coming back up to speed.

"What did you say?" Donovan asked.

"I told him to get a good look at what women see when he smiles at them." She said smugly. She tucked the mirror back into her handbag.

"What did he see?" Donovan asked.

She shrugged.

"That depends," she said. "Whatever frightens him the most. That's what the mirror does. I keep it close to me most of the time. There's a perfect stone chip of every birthstone around the edge. I've been experimenting with mirrors — new hobby. One day, I'm going to look in there and find out what it is that scares me. We always think that we know what it will be, you know? I keep that mirror because one day I'll want to know. I'll face something, and I'll look into the mirror, and I'll know if the thing I'm facing is it. If it's the worst thing ever — the one thing I have to overcome to overcome myself."

"Pretty deep," Donovan said. "I think I'll pass on taking a look, though. There's always something worse, and there's always something better. All we can do is concentrate on the here, and the now, and right now I need to find someone who knows what's going on out in the Barrio.

"Chicken," she said. Then she chuckled.

They both sipped their beer and scanned the room. Finally, Donovan saw what he was after.

"There," he said, nodding toward the corner. "It's Julio."

Amethyst followed his gaze. At the corner of the bar closest to the restrooms and the payphone, a skinny man in a dark shirt and jeans leaned on the counter. He held a drink between his hands, turning it nervously. He glanced alternately at the phones and the door.

"How fortunate, Amethyst said. "Do you want me to go and talk with him, or…?"

"You wait here," Donovan said, "and try to stay out of trouble. I'll… convince Julio that he wants to join us."

Donovan rose and slipped around the far side of the pool tables. He came up on the spot where Julio stood from behind and laid a hand suddenly on the smaller man's shoulder. Julio gave a yelp and tried to twist free, but Donovan held him tightly.

"If you keep on like that," he said, "I'm going to think you aren't happy to see me."

Julio was just less than six feet tall with a long, slender nose, greasy black hair, and furtive, darting eyes. He wore a pendant with an Egyptian Ankh dangling from it, rings on almost every finger, and the buttons on his shirt were inverted pewter crosses. Donovan suspected that if the man had more money, the crosses would be silver.

"What you want man?" Julio said. His voice was high and whiny. "I got no problem with you."

"Never said you did," Donovan said. "Can't two old friends just talk?"

"You ain't my friend," Julio said.

"You better hope I am," Donovan said, dropping his voice. "You'd better hope you know what I need to know. It would go better for you if you were my friend."

Donovan turned Julio toward the pool tables and gave a light shove. He steered the man to the booth where Amethyst waited, and pushed him in.

"Hello, Julio," Amethyst said with a bright smile. "It's been too long."

Julio turned then and tried to bolt. He was slippery, and he almost slid past Donovan, but he telegraphed the move, and before he got a foot, Amethyst shot out a long leg and tripped him up. Donovan caught him by the back of his shirt and tossed him into the booth, sliding in beside him.

"What's got you so riled up," he asked. "We just have a few questions, and you know we'll pay. What's got you spooked?"

"Nothing," Julio said. "I just don't like being pushed around."

"Nobody's pushing," Amethyst said. "Yet. What have you heard about Anya Cabrera?"

"That crazy old hag?" Julio said. He puffed out his chest, but not before Donovan noticed the quick, furtive glance he sent back in the direction of the phone.

"You waiting on a call, Julio?" he asked.

"Maybe. What business is that of yours?"

"You wouldn't be reporting in to someone would you?" Donovan asked. "I mean, I could go over there, maybe catch the call for you. I bet I could tell them just about everything they wanted to know. Of course, not coming from you, it might slant things. You know what I mean? They probably expect you to answer the phone."

Julio had started to sweat. His hand shook, and he stared down at the table.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"I already told you that," Donovan said patiently. "We know that Anya Cabrera is up to something. We've heard she's playing with powers better left alone. You know a little about the Loa don't you, Julio? How would you like to be visited by Papa Legba and have him take up residence…stay a while. Maybe forever."

"That would be crazy," Julio said. He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. He glanced at the phones again.

"Look," he said. "There is something going on. She's got a big ritual planned, tomorrow night. She's hooked up with one of the gangs — Los Escorpiones. They've been putting out the word that something is going down in the old junkyard on the south-side of the Barrio. Anya has a place there; back in among the junked cars. It's like some weird Aztec temple or something. I don't know what she's planning on doing other than the standard ritual, but I've heard…stories."

"We heard some of those," Amethyst said. "There was a gang war in Santini Park the other night. Seems it was a little one sided."

"That's what I heard," Julio agreed. " Los Escorpiones were there. They didn't die right, man. They fell down, got shot, got stabbed, and kept on fighting. They took out Vasquez. You know Vasquez?"

Donovan nodded. He remembered the gigantic biker, and he'd heard stories of the man's prowess in a fight.

"Did they shoot him?" he asked.

"They did, but it didn't matter," Julio said. "They took him down. He was breaking bones, tossing those boys around like they was dolls, and they just came back. And they were way too fast. At least, that's what my sources tell me. I didn't see it for myself. I've done business with Los Escorpiones…their Presidente — Hector? He was solid once. I do business with The Dragons, too — and Martinez. I don't get involved in what the gangs do, and I'm not much in a fight."

"Really?" Amethyst said sweetly. "A big strong guy like you?"

"That's all I know, man," Julio said. He glanced at the phone again. "Seriously, I got to go. I have something coming in tonight — from Haiti. If I miss out on it, someone else will get it. It's important."

"Nothing illegal, I hope," Donovan smiled. There was no humor in it.

"Are you done, man?"

Donovan waited a moment, then slipped out of the booth and stood aside.

"Nice talking with you, Julio," he said. "Wouldn't want to keep your friends waiting."

"You said you'd pay." Julio said, sliding slowly out of the booth.

Donovan started to reach for his wallet, but just at that moment, the phone across the room started to ring. Julio watched. Donovan moved very, very slowly. With a curse, the man slipped out of the booth and away, almost diving for the phone when he reached the back wall.

"I think we have everything we need," Donovan said. "If there are any real answers to be had, they'll be in that junkyard tomorrow night."

"You have an invitation I don't know about?" Amethyst asked. She slid out of the booth and stood at his side. "I don't know Anya very well, but it's my impression that she's not just going to let us wander in there…of if she did, she'd be doing her best to make sure we never get out again."

"We'll have to have a plan," Donovan said. "I don't think I'm ready to bust in on her ritual just yet, but I want to get close enough to see what's going on. I also want to know what Martinez will do. If we know this, he certainly knows as well. I want to know what he's doing with that paint."

"I can't help you with that," Amethyst said, "but I might have an idea how we can get close enough to find that answer. I've recently acquired some new…toys. Let's get back to my place — I'll show you whatt I mean."

"If I didn't know better," Donovan said with a grin, "I'd think you were trying to seduce me. Again."

She smacked him on the shoulder with a laugh, and they left the pool hall, and Club Chaos behind.

"We'll have to make a stop," Donovan said. "Cleo isn't jealous, but she does like to be fed now and then."

They disappeared into the streets. It had rained while they were inside, just a light misting, and the neon of the club's lights flashed and glittered in off the wet walls and pavement.