Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [29]
She nodded slowly and finally managed to tear her eyes away from the chained woman. I let out a breath as she disappeared into the roiling crowd. One more stareapalooza like that and she’d have us blown.
I manhandled a skinny girl in a body stocking out of the way and secured a tiny table with two chairs for when Shelby came back. It still held empty drink glasses from the last occupants, and I moved them aside. My fingers came away gritty. I sniffed and touched them to my tongue, which immediately lost feeling on the tip. A smell of bleach undercut with sweetness invaded my nose.
Nothing like a little high-grade cocaine to liven up your evening of bondage and humiliation. But I wasn’t Narcotics, and no one in my sightline was putting anything up their nose. All I could do was watch and wait for Samael to show up. Samael. His real name was probably Herbert.
“May I clean your boots?”
I jerked my head up to see a normal-looking—good-looking, in fact—guy in a red button-down and black slacks cut fashionably loose. He smiled and let his tongue flick out, revealing a silver bar through the flesh.
“Excuse me?”
He knelt down and grasped my left foot. “May I clean your boots?” His free hand proffered what looked like a whiskey and Coke. “I’d be willing to buy you as many of these as it takes.”
I’ve heard a lot of strange things from men, particularly in the days when I wasn’t too concerned about their criminal records or level of sobriety. My first instinct was more a “What?” than outright disgust, but my potential boot-cleaner had an adorable anxious expression on his face, plus he’d already bought me a drink. And if I shrieked and flailed like a Christian coed, that would Hex the whole point of the night.
“These cost three hundred dollars,” I warned boot guy. “And I’m very attached to them, so be careful.”
“Thank you!” he exclaimed, dipping his head in a courtly gesture. “So many first-timers are afraid to experience.”
“It was that obvious, huh?” I said as he raised my foot gently, gripping my ankle like Prince Charming laying the glass slipper on Cinderella. He was almost familiar when he smiled, a generic beauty like soap stars possess.
“No offense meant, miss. You’re very beautiful.”
“Thanks…”I started, when he opened his mouth and started licking my foot, right over the instep. Only the fact that this was not the weirdest thing I’d ever been a part of, sad as that was, kept me from jerking. To boot guy’s credit, he didn’t make any noises, just licked in an efficient manner until he’d covered every visible millimeter of my foot.
“May I move your pant leg to finish?” he asked sweetly. It took me two heartbeats to muster anything other than a squeak.
“Um. Sure.”
“What the hell?” said a voice from behind me, loudly. I twisted, careful not to dislodge boot guy, to see Shelby holding two club sodas in glasses etched with naked pinup silhouettes.
“Shelby, this is…”
“Mark,” said boot guy without missing a beat.
“Mark,” I repeated. “And we were just engaging in a little friendly boot cleaning. Thanks for getting the drinks. Such as they are.” I begged her with my eyes to be cool, because her posture was telegraphing that she wanted to run the hell out of the club, get back in her Nissan, and keep driving until she hit Mexico.
“Well, that’s … that’s great.” Shelby sank into the other chair, defeated. I’d never seen anyone look as miserable, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I sort of enjoyed it.
Mark finished with both of my boots and sat back on his heels. “Thank you, miss. It was a pleasure. Would your friend care to participate?”
“No, she would not!” Shelby shouted, drawing looks from nearby tables. I jabbed her on the arm.
“Mark, maybe you can help us.”
He stood up and brushed off his pants. “Anything at all, miss.”
“We’re looking for Samael. He works here?”
A shadow flickered over Mark’s face and then he blinked, smile back in full force. “You do like to live dangerously, for a first-timer.” Whatever that meant. “Samael only works private VIP appointments. He’s booked months