Page 54 of Our Vicious Descent
Sterling grumbled something unintelligible, then spoke up. “When you said we would be parading as gangsters, I thought you meant the kind who do quiet business with politicians. Not the…loud kind who create chaos in clubs to get what they want while everyone is screaming.”
Jamie threw him a sideways glance. “Which one do you think I am, Sterling?”
“Considering the number of speakeasies you have run and how many people have been killed under your lead, I would say the worst kind.”
“Maybe you two should keep your criminal activities and combative theories to a minimum when we go inside,” Layla suggested. They had reached the entrance to the Nest Club. While plenty of clubs in Harlem were Black owned or allowed racial mixing, it still shocked Layla when she was allowed inside without extensive questioning or having to offer a part of herself. She’d also tried to avoid establishments where humanity was put on display for everyone to see. To her these buildings seemed less like spectacles and more like coffins with people desperate to hang on to life inside.
The bouncer outside the Nest Club surveyed them with cautious black eyes. He paused on Jamie, his face lighting up. “Vex. Wonderful to see you again. Though business has never been as good as when you ran this place.”
Jamie smiled a charming yet vacant smile. “Even the best haveto move on eventually. I’m back for pleasure this time. What have you got for us tonight?”
“Cabaret is starting in a few. The restaurant on this floor is pretty packed, so I wouldn’t expect any openings for a while,” the bouncer said.
“And what if I said I was here for blood and karma?” Jamie asked.
A cold look crossed the bouncer’s face. He glanced behind him back into the darkness of the hallway before leaning toward Jamie. “Are you taking or giving?”
Jamie laughed softly. “Maybe a bit of both.”
“All right, well, I’m not the one to talk to. But I can let the boss know you’re here, and he might give you some special treatment. Do not tell anyone else.” The bouncer gestured to Layla and the others. “Are they with you?”
“They are,” Jamie said.
The bouncer eyed Layla so hard, each roaming look made her skin prickle with an irritated heat.
“All human by the way. I know you’ve been wary of them since the last incident.” Jamie shook his head, sighing. “I cannot wait until the blood house fad passes. They’re turning worse than the Cotton Club.”
The bouncer gave him a sympathetic nod. “If you ever need a new place to post up or a new job, we’ve got you. As long as you don’t cause any trouble tonight. We’ve seen your posters around—don’t turn us into snitches.”
Layla nudged Jamie with her elbow before he could dive intoanother lengthy conversation with this man. She was relieved when the bouncer waved them all inside. Layla rolled her jaw out and exhaled the moment they were hidden by the shadows. She felt Elise’s hand close over hers as they moved from the darkness of the hallway into the open restaurant on the first floor. Scents of barbecue wafted around them, and Layla was glad for a distraction.
“Are you okay?” Elise asked, her voice slightly raised to cut through the loud music.
Even though Layla nodded, all she really wanted was to go back to the front of the club outside and tear every WANTED poster down. “I’m good,” she muttered.
Jamie tugged on his lapels as he surveyed the room. He dressed the part of a gangster almost too well—he looked more gangster than he did in his everyday life. The black pinstripe suit he wore and the hat he refused to take off were the same kind worn by others at the Nest Club tonight, though he somehow still stood out against everyone else. Sterling hardly matched him. If anything, the Saint member looked more like a young aspiring politician with his expensive suit and even flashier cuff links. Even Elise had gawked at his chosen attire when they had first met up an hour ago.
“We should all take our own areas to scout out and maybe talk to people. Layla, I think you will have the best luck at finding the blood rooms,” Jamie said.
Layla bristled at his statement. He was not wrong, but some part of her hated being acknowledged as the one who could most easily sniff out blood. As it was, the room they currently stood in had sucha strong aroma of barbecue, Layla could not smell anything beyond it. She felt as if her nose had been coated with the stuff, and it didn’t help that everywhere she looked, there were people sharing plates of marinated meat or flagging down servers carrying trays of it.
“Assuming we’re close to some of the blood rooms, it’s not safe for Elise and Sterling to be alone. The patrons might have a strong craving for Saint blood,” Layla said. She watched with gentle amusement as Sterling stepped closer to Jamie, rolling his eyes all the while. He had a Saint gun strapped to his body, but Layla could still see the apprehension tightening his shoulders and pulling the corners of his lips down. Elise, on the other hand, pressed into Layla’s side with something akin to excitement. As the group finally split up, with Elise following Layla into a less crowded part of the club, Layla understood why.
It had been years since they had both attended a function like this with better intentions. At the fundraiser gala, they had both been on edge, with no chance to enjoy the energy or each other’s company. Now, however, Layla threaded her fingers through Elise’s and pulled her through the crowd with a soft smile on her face.
Elise leaned in beside her, a hushed excitement riding her words as she spoke. “It’s almost like old times, don’t you think? When our parents would bring us along to these parties, we would get a chance to dance and be away from the chaos at my house. I never thought I missed this until now. Back then, it was always about appearing good enough in my father’s eyes, but now, even as we’re sneaking around, I feel better about it. Because I have you.” Elise’s voice had loweredto a near whisper at the end, as if she wanted only Layla to hear her small confessions.
Layla stopped at the edge of the crowd, where people were dancing to a live rendition of “Black Bottom Stomp”. She released Elise’s hand only to point to the piano. “You should go next.”
Panic flickered across Elise’s pretty face. “Excuse me?”
“You were great last time, and I think they might even recognize you now because of it,” Layla said. “I miss hearing you play. And like you said, it’s been an eternity since we could be normal, so maybe we take that chance now.”
Though Layla hoped Elise might have found some confidence in her words, she looked more unsure than ever. Elise kept glancing back at the pianist and then at Layla, her mouth pursing and teeth grinding, sometimes on her lower lip. “I did not say it had been an eternity,” Elise hissed.
Layla shrugged and pushed Elise toward the piano. “Five years? Close enough.”
Despite her utter mortification and shaky nerves, Elise did not back down. She approached the piano as the band began to move off the stage and sat down on the bench without a word. The room, while still rowdy from applauding the previous band, seemed to settle down enough for her. Layla watched with piercing eyes. Elise had never been more captivating to her than when she was in her place, with her hands perched on a piano and face struck with concentration. It was in moments like these that Layla remembered the most from childhood. Watching her best friend do what she didbest and make every song she played fall in love with her right back. Then, Layla had been unable to keep her eyes and dreams away from Elise. Now it was no different. Layla stood in front of the crowd with her fingers clasped in front of her and eyes bright on Elise’s quickly turning expression.
