Free Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective) by E.J. Stevens

pained
whimpers, and heat raced through my veins.
    “But I do blame you, indubitably,” I said.  “You have placed
someone I care for in harm’s way and I intend to seek suitable retribution.”
    “Come now, Forneus,” Puck said, spreading his hands wide. 
“I’m sure we can come to a friendly arrangement.”
    I shook my head.
    “I do believe we are beyond negotiating,” I said, tossing
the handkerchief over my shoulder.  I shifted my cane into my left hand and
lifted my right, allowing flame to dance along my fingers.  “You see, Puck,
there is an aggravating factor, a detail which makes your action particularly
injurious to me, personally.  But perhaps you could sway my verdict with a plea
bargain.”
    I might be satisfied if the trickster provided enough
information, and begged sufficiently.
    “Playing at judge, jury, and executioner?” he asked. 
“That’s not like you, Forneus.  Heck, I didn’t think you had the balls.  Good
for you.”
    As Puck said the last, his eyes held my own, but his hand
slid toward his pocket.  Whether he was going for a weapon, or attempting to
call for backup, our discussion was evidently over.  I started to flick my wrist,
intending to send an onslaught of flame at the trickster’s wandering hand, but
halted the motion as something flew past my shoulder.
    I’d been so focused on those I pursued ahead of me that I
hadn’t bothered to turn my attention to what might approach from behind.
    I spun on my heel in time to see an enraged, blue-skinned
faerie hurl herself toward Puck.  The trickster’s head snapped up, eyes
widening, as a jeweled dagger descended toward his chest.  This faerie woman,
the bartender from the club if I wasn’t mistaken, obviously intended to kill
the trickster.  I can’t say I could blame her.  The boyish looking man had an
appalling habit of screwing over everyone he encountered.
    In a rainbow arc of shining jewels the weapon plunged
downward, but the motion was arrested when a dusty, fanged blur interceded. 
With a snarl, the southern vampire grabbed the bartender’s arm and ripped it
off at the shoulder.  Blood sprayed from the ragged wound, making an unseemly
mess, but the vampire’s intervention was effective.  Puck was unharmed, though
I couldn’t say the same for his clothing.
    Unfortunately, the sight of so much blood pushed the vampire
into a feeding frenzy.  The vampire’s fangs elongated further and, with a
growl, he latched himself onto the woman’s neck.
    “Stop this at once!” I demanded.  “Puck, this has gone too
far.  She’s a faerie, one of your own kind.”
    Puck rocked his head back and laughed.
    “One of my kind?” he asked.  He stepped closer to where the
vampire feasted on the injured faerie woman.  “She’s an Unseelie, one of Mab’s
brood.  Their kind aren’t worth saving.”
    “This is against club rules and Vampire Law,” I said,
attempting one last time to appeal to reason.  “Stop this and give up this
wretched game of yours.”
    “No, Forneus, I’m having too much fun to close down my
little Bite Club,” Puck said.  “Our activities are profitable, and I provide a
much needed service to the vampire community.  Isn’t that right, Cyrus?”
    The vampire paused at his name, but soon continued to suckle
at the faerie’s neck, holding her upright in a parody of a lover’s embrace. 
The winter faerie’s blue skin made it difficult to tell if she was still alive,
but the loss of blood from the missing limb, and the vampire latched onto her
neck like an engorged tick, would kill her soon if it hadn’t already.  This had
to be stopped.
    Once again I began to flick my wrist and once again the
faerie woman interceded.  Silver flashed in the dim light and a blue hand
thrust upward, striking Puck in the chest.  The makeshift weapon, an ice pick
if I wasn’t mistaken, was driven deeply as the faerie smiled.
    Apparently, the woman was alive, after all.
    “I did as you asked, my