Velvet Shadows and Neon Lies

“Beware the silence before the storm; for it is the sound of regret taking form.”

— Calystria Dane,

Fifth Prophet of the First Order

***

The vibrant neon lights of Lux shone like a beacon in the desolate urban landscape of the West Side. I parked my car and took a moment to gather my courage, memories of my last visit to this den of indulgence flooding back. I checked my weapons at the door. The bouncers at the entrance recognized me, their stern eyes narrowing before they stepped aside.

The heavy bass of the music throbbed through my body, igniting a primal desire. The air was thick, drenched in the smell of sweat and sex, promising forbidden pleasures. Dancers writhed naked on stage, their bodies glistening under the dim lights as they tempted and teased the eager crowd. Lux was a hedonistic playground, every corner beckoning with carnal delights. My senses were overwhelmed by the pulsating energy and sensual atmosphere, but I remained focused on my goal as I waded deeper into this den of sin.

Bare skin brushed against me as dancers swayed and ground, their bodies undulating in a hypnotic rhythm. Each one held an otherworldly allure—pointed ears, iridescent wings, intricate tattoos glowing under the seductive lights. Here, the Hexborn and Normies melted together, distinctions forgotten. In this place, everyone was equally lost.

Sweat dripped from their feverish movements, adding to the heady mix of scents in the air. A fae dancer caught my eye, her curves accentuated by strategically placed glitter. She danced closer, her fingers tracing down my chest as she whispered in my ear.

“Want a private dance?” Her breath was hot against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

“I’m busy,” I replied gruffly, trying to keep my focus.

“But you’re so handsome.” She pressed her body against mine, her breasts rubbing against my chest. A surge of lust washed over me, but I pushed it aside. It was good to know I could still feel that.

“You’re a terrible liar,” I retorted coldly, pushing past her.

She gave me an appraising look. “I’ve had worse,” she said with a shrug, reaching for my hand. I pulled back, the thought churning my stomach. Not because of her, but because of what I was.

Enjoying the view? Frank’s mocking voice crawled through my head. Even a dead man like you must find something you like in this place.

“Shut it,” I growled back mentally, scanning the crowd. The fae dancer pouted and moved on to another customer, but her alluring aura lingered in the air as I continued through the sea of colors.

I caught glimpses of Devil Kissed and Hexborn amidst the crowd. But zombies? That was a different story. My pale, sickly skin stood out even in the dim lighting. Frank could only do so much to hide it.

You’re blending in about as well as a fart in a perfume shop, Frank quipped. Just saying.

“Keep your thoughts to yourself, Frank,” I muttered under my breath, my eyes scanning the room for my target.

Of course, he replied, feigning disinterest. I’m only making an observation.

I could almost see him smirking in the recesses of my mind, trying to maintain his veneer of superiority while the hypnotic magic of Lux worked its way into both of us. I shook off the lingering effects of the fae dancer’s touch. Lizzy was here somewhere, and I needed answers.

I pushed my way through the sweaty, pulsating crowd, the thump of bass and chatter of voices drowning out any semblance of personal space. The overpowering heat emanating from the packed bodies made me feel like I was swimming through a humid ocean. As I approached the roped-off VIP section, glimpses of familiar faces from my past materialized within the sea of strangers. The bouncers stationed outside exchanged nods and hand signals with each other before granting me access to the exclusive area with a sly smile. The people inside parted slightly to make room for me, their expressions ranging from surprised recognition to eager curiosity as they took in my sudden appearance among them.

Amid the grandeur of the palace, she sat on a red plush couch—queen of all she surveyed.

My HUD sprang to life, flickering as it scanned the room and tagged each figure I passed. Most profiles were blank—static placeholders without any useful data. A few, though, triggered fragments of old files, relics from when I was still plugged into the Police Grid. My wanted list hadn’t updated since I left the game, but some of the information remained relevant.

And then there was her. The HUD flagged her instantly, her profile glowing with vivid, unforgotten details. Some things never faded, no matter how much time passed.

Lizzy’s name hovered over her silhouette, glowing faintly in red.

The system flagged her charm abilities with a warning:

Threat Level: Moderate

Hexborn—Succubus Ancestry. Influence: High.

Caution: Pheromone Manipulation Detected.

Wavy strands of raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and piercing emerald eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit throne room. She exuded an otherworldly aura. Clearly a Hexborn, her striking beauty and seductive air betrayed her succubus ancestry. Lounging on a lavish chair fit for a ruler, her posture radiated power and command. As her gaze locked onto mine with a mixture of surprise and amusement, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her in a way that both intrigued and unnerved me.

“Jack,” she said, her voice dripping with mock surprise. “Time has not been kind to you, I’m afraid.”

She urged me to sit with her, and the goons to her side made sure I accepted the offer.

“I’ve had a rough few days,” I replied.

She raised her eyebrows. “Just a few days? You look like the findings of an archaeological dig where they forgot to preserve the body.”

“Lizzy,” I said.

“It’s Elizabeth now.” She smiled radiantly.

“Lizzy, I need your help.”

She smiled wider. “Oh, Jack,” she purred, her voice smoother than hundred-dollar silk. “It’s been too long. What terrible favor brings you back to my den of iniquity? I know you never liked my working here.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of the price on my head.”

“Not a small fee. You’ve really tickled the wrong people upstairs, I’m guessing.”

“You’re not interested in claiming it, are you?”

“Now, Jack.” She growled softly and made a tisk-tisk sound. “You know me better than that. Gold is good. But secrets? Secrets are a girl’s best friend.”

“I need help with just that. A secret. It’s about one of your ‘clients,’” I said.

She slid closer to me, placing a hand on my leg. “Always so serious, Jack. Straight to business.” She puckered her lips. “No time for fun anymore?”

I slid back and removed her hand from my thigh. “Enough tricks, Lizzy. Are you going to help me or not?”

She sat up and dropped the act. Her face took on an entirely different form, more refined and discerning. The goo-goo eyes were gone, like a mask she wore only for those who didn’t know her. Her new demeanor was commanding, proving the lie to how she was acting before. She ran this place; she was no damsel in distress. She had dirt on half the politicians in the city and all of the important ones.

“You really have gotten old, haven’t you, Jack?” Her voice was deeper now, more matter-of-fact. She flashed a familiar smile. “Have it your way, straight to business.”

She snapped her fingers and stood. We were led through a set of heavy wooden doors into a private room fit for royalty. A soft, curved couch sat against one wall, adorned with plush pillows and a cozy throw blanket. In the center of the room was a small table, intricately carved from dark wood and adorned with ornate decorations. I took a seat on one end of the couch while she settled gracefully on the other. It was quiet here, the faint muffle of the club barely audible.

The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, memories of the past mingling with the present reality of my undead state.

“How can I help you, Jack?” she asked, her voice smooth yet commanding.

The room exuded an air of luxury and elegance, making me feel out of place in my simple attire. But as always, she made me feel at ease with her effortless charm and grace. This was her sanctuary, where she could shed her title and responsibilities and simply be herself. She kicked off her heels and lounged back. A goon got her a drink of dark amber.

A few women sat in the back of the room, watching us. I assumed they were her real bodyguards. The goons were for show.

Her piercing gaze met mine, a mix of curiosity and something darker flickering behind her eyes. She sighed after a moment, the sound laced with resignation.

“So, how can I assist you, Jack?” she asked, studying me intently. “Back in the business?”

I scoffed. “No, just fulfilling a favor.” But deep down, I knew it was more than that. It was quickly becoming personal.

I dug into my pocket and fished out the matchbox, tossing it onto the table between us. Her relaxed demeanor faded as she stiffened at the sight of it.

“Got this from the pocket of Robert McGuffey.”

“Jack, you know I can’t discuss my clients. It’s a matter of privilege.”

“Even the dead ones?”

She didn’t seem surprised.

“Especially the dead ones,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

“I didn’t realize you still had a ‘no kiss and tell’ policy,” I retorted.

A faint, humorless laugh slipped from her lips. “Oh Jack, you of all people should appreciate our discretion.”

“Lizzy,” I said, leaning forward, my eyes boring into hers. “This isn’t about some petty job. There’s something big brewing, and it’s got everyone from angels to demons on edge. I need to know what McGuffey was into, and I need to know now.”

She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “You always knew how to get under my skin, Jack.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a talent. Now spill.”

She glanced at the matchbox again, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the couch. “Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”

I nodded, knowing that whatever the cost, it was worth it. “Deal.”

A woman with a flowing gauze dress and pointed ears emerged from behind a nearby curtain. She moved with the grace and fluidity of a predator as she poured the fragrant liquid into my cup, never once breaking eye contact.

“Robert was a putz,” Lizzy said, matter-of-factly. “Didn’t know his shoes from his shirt. Thought of himself as some sort of collector. Demon connoisseur. Guy was harmless, really. That is, until he found something. Don’t know if it was dumb luck or a cosmic joke, but he got his hands on something real nasty, Jack. Don’t know what it was, only that he was real worried about it. Told the girls all about it. People following him at night. Dark figures out of nowhere. Honestly, we thought the guy was losing his marbles. Then, he turns up dead. He was a good customer, Jack. I don’t like losing good customers.”

“Who else knew about it? The artifact.”

She hesitated, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Everyone, Jack. From the highest echelons of the supernatural underworld to the dirty politicians in City Hall. They’re all after it. This thing is no joke. And the price on your head? That tells me one thing. Someone wants you out of the picture, and fast.”

I leaned back, processing the information. “Thanks, Lizzy. I owe you one.”

She smirked, a glint of mischief returning to her eyes. “You always did, Jack.”

We had a fling about fifteen years ago when she was fresh meat in this joint. Now she ran the show, and I was the one looking like a museum piece.

I reached into my pocket for the key.

I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack, Frank’s voice crackled in my head. She might be as beautiful as death’s eternal night, but she’s slipperier than a greased goblin.

Her gaze lingered on me as I listened intently to Frank.

Jack, this key isn’t merely some trinket. You sure she’s the one to trust?

We’re running out of options, Frank. She’s our best shot at figuring this out. Unless you’ve got a better idea?

Touché, Frank quipped. But keep your wits about you.

I chuckled silently. Not getting sentimental now, are you, Frank?

A smile played on Lizzy’s lips as she watched me. “Oh, I thought I smelled Frank. You’re still wearing him, aren’t you? Old gentleman, how is he?”

I shrugged, keeping it cool. “He’s still full of himself. Listen, I think I might be starting to get why the hit is on me. The artifact that Robert got his hands on; I have the other half.”

I placed the key down on the table. “Do you know anything about this? Ever seen anything like it?” I asked.

Her reaction was instant and raw, startling me. She jerked back from the key as if it were a red-hot iron, hissing in disgust. Her composed expression contorted into one of bitter disdain, her eyes ablaze with scorching intensity.

“Where did you get that?” she spat out, her voice dripping with venom. There was a look in her eyes I’d never seen before. Something visceral. Feral. A hunger.

I grabbed the key from the table and backed away. The women in the back of the room edged closer.

She slowly regained control of herself. But the danger still lingered in her eyes, like a smoldering fire behind a carefully constructed facade.

“That key... I don’t know what it is, Jack, but I need it,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of fear. Her jaw was clenched.

“Something in me, in my bones, tells me that if I could touch it… I could have anything. Everything.” Her voice trembled with a dark longing, sending a chill down my spine. We were dealing with forces beyond our understanding. “You need to get rid of it, Jack. For your own safety. Give it to me.” She hissed, stepping closer.

Uh, Jack. We might want to start thinking about making a polite exit.