“Kiev will be out on the floor right now.”
“You can wait here,” Dominic said, stepping forward to block his path.
While he appreciated the concern, he didn’t need it. “I’m fine, really. Besides, you don’t know what he looks like.”
His time at the Sky Lounge hadn’t been all bad. He’d spent the first two years of his employment working in the kitchen as a dishwasher, only moving out to the front after he’d turned eighteen.
For the most part, everything operated within the law. His pay had been abysmal, but he’d been allowed to keep half his tips, and he’d attracted plenty of wealthy regulars. Yes, some of the other hosts met with clients outside of business hours, a practice highly encouraged by management, but it had never been mandatory.
Sammy had tried it once, but he’d quickly decided it wasn’t for him.
Overall, it hadn’t been a terrible job. In fact, he might have worked there voluntarily if given the choice. But he hadn’t been given a choice, and therein was the problem.
The blood magic didn’t turn him into a robot, but it had kept him bound and obedient. He hadn’t been able to decide how often he worked, for how long, or even which customers he engaged with.
He certainly hadn’t been allowed the option to leave once he had outgrown the place.
When he had walked out those doors for the last time, he had promised himself he would never allow anyone to have that kind of control over him again. A worthy goal, to be sure, but he should have known his mother wouldn’t let him go that easily.
“This way,” he said, nodding his head toward the sapphire velvet curtain at the end of another, shorter hallway. “He’s probably on the VIP deck.”
Popular for semi-private events, the Mezzanine jutted above the DJ booth to overlook the main club. Decorated in hues of deep blue and sterling silver, with plush sofas and a private bar, it attracted a very particular type of clientele.
Rich, influential, powerful, and…generous.
Every host hoped to be assigned to the balcony, but only a few ever made the cut. Sammy had, of course, spent a lot of time in the Mezzanine. As a powerful siren capable of influencing moods, Kiev was another top choice, especially for larger parties.
Music pumped from speakers set into the rafters, but the volume remained low enough to encourage conversation without shouting. More of an accompaniment than the main event.
Instead of a dance floor, multiple seating areas filled the space. Some had only two chairs and a small table. Others boasted large, curved sofas with high backs and winged arms. No matter their size, they were all carefully designed for one purpose.
Intimacy.
Real or manufactured, it didn’t matter. As long as customers felt seen and valued, they had no problem opening their wallets.
A rope stretched across the narrow staircase that led to the Mezzanine. Beside the bottom step, a metal stand held a sign that informed them the VIP deck had been reserved.
Sammy unhooked the rope and started up the stairs.
“Are you sure he’s up there?”
Dominic hovered at his back, so close Sammy could feel his breath against his ear. He shivered and swallowed back a groan but kept climbing.
“No, not for sure, but if there’s a party later, he’s probably preparing for it.”
“What if he’s not working tonight?” Chapel asked from the back of the line.
Sammy snorted. “The hosts work every night except Sundays, when the club is closed. He’s here.”
Sure enough, they found Kiev behind the bar, his head bent over a cutting board as he sliced an array of different fruits.
Average height with a narrow build, he wore the standard uniform—white button-down, black slacks, and a silk bowtie. He’d colored his shaggy waves a rich mahogany since the last time Sammy had seen him, lending warmth to the golden undertones of his complexion.
With his round cheeks and unlined skin, no one would guess he had recently celebrated his centennial birthday.
He looked up when they approached, his face cycling through several emotions before settling into what he probably meant to be a charming smile. Blacklights from the mirrored wall behind him lit up his teeth and the whites of his eyes like a neon sign, though, kind of ruining the effect.
Sammy smiled back.