Page 9 of Vapor

Inside, the party’s in full swing. Conversations range from loud and boisterous to hushed and intense, camaraderie evident in every interaction. The party’s a testament to the wild, unrestrained spirit of the club. Tonight was supposed to be a night of freedom and revelry. Not anymore. Now we’ve got a problem.

The living room, barely lit by a mix of neon signs and dim lightbulbs, is filled with the scent of gasoline, sweat, and alcohol. Laughter and shouts fill the air as members clink beer bottles and throw back shots.

Among the crowd, sexy club girls gyrate to the beat of the music. Their outfits are a mix of tight leather and lace, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. They dance provocatively, swaying in time with the heavy beat.

Other girls lean against the bar, engaging in playful banter and flirting with the club members. The women, just as bold and fierce as the men, fit seamlessly into the wild atmosphere, their laughter and seductive glances adding to the electrifying energy of the night.

I find Ice, the VP of the club, motorboating a busty redhead on the couch. His long, platinum hair and piercing silver-blue eyes, along with a deep, hypnotic voice, makes me half-wonder if he’s secretly a vampire. Pretty sure that supernatural shit doesn’t exist, but you never know. I’ve seen some weird stuff, like when the men from the Montana chapter were staying with us. Those guys have some really strange abilities, but they’re our mother chapter, so I try not to think about it too much.

As soon as Ice pulls his face out of the girl’s tits long enough to take a breath, I catch his eye.

“Got a second?” I jerk my head toward the door to the library where we hold Church.

“Hey, Pres.” He pushes the girl to the side, giving her ass a pat before hoisting his 6’1” frame up. He follows me down the hall. As soon as I close the door behind us, he turns to me.“How’d the meeting with Broussard go?”

“You’re gonna need to sit down for this.” I pull the napkin out of my pocket and slide it across the conference room table.

I glance around the room while waiting for his reaction. A series of mint green bookshelves line the walls. In addition to books, a variety of knickknacks decorate the shelves. One section is filled with Bones’collection of creepy dolls. A tiny ceramic clown dressed in New Orleans Saints colors sits in the center of the dolls. Sometimes I swear those fucking things move when we’re not looking.

On another shelf, a steamboat trinket box and a wooden toy mandolin share the space. A shrunken head props up a large, leather-bound book. I’m still not sure if it’s fake or not. I really don’t want to know where Bones got it. Sometimes it’s better to be kept in the dark.

Mardi Gras beads dangle from an altar in the corner by the window. The sacred space contains everything from a two-foot-tall statue of the Virgin Mary to an unopened bottle of spiced rum to a voodoo doll. Dollar bills and loose change are strewn across the shiny red altar cloth. Partially melted candles in glass jars add extra color to the space. It’s all Bones’shit, so the rest of us don’t touch it.

“Save them! Black Snake Bayou. Midnight,” Ice reads, frowning.“What’s it mean?”

“Not sure.”

“Broussard gave it to you?”

“No. His fiancé did.”

“That hot redhead? Blue?” Ice arches an almost white brow.

“She slipped it to me when I was heading out.”

“Didn’t give you any clues?”

“Not a word.”

“Shit, it could mean anything.”

“We got a location and a time.”

“But not a damn thing else. It could be a trap.”

“Broussard agreed to launder for the club.”

“After one meeting?”

“I think he researched us as much as we researched him.” I tap my fingers on the table.“My gut says we should check it out.”

“I hate to agree because this is sus as fuck, but… should we talk to the others?”

“We could go alone, not involve them until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Not a chance. This could be bait.”

“Then why bring the whole club?”

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