Free armor of magic 02 - rising light by Simone Pond

miscreant vibe and icky scent I was getting, most of them had gone bad, like expired milk.
    I wasn’t going to wait in that ridiculous line, so I tapped my helmet, cloaking myself, and slipped right past the hulking bouncers.
    Inside The Graveyard, the cacophony of heavy metal blared at deafening levels, and everyone shouting over the music didn’t help. I still hadn’t mastered dialing down the sensory input on my helmet. This was going to be a bit more challenging than I was anticipating.
    The venue’s massive structure held hundreds of clubbers, most thrash-dancing in the middle of the place. They had really gone all out with the graveyard theme, using headstones for chairs, and the VIP rooms along the periphery were actual mausoleums. Barren trees with sharp branches were dispersed about the space. And high above, there was a round white light illuminating the room like a full moon. On each of the tables sat antique candelabras. An eerie fog settled over the floor. They kept the place cold. Like meat locker cold.
    Before de-cloaking myself, I scanned the place for Cosby. Lots of black leather and fishnet stockings, spiky heels and chains. Bodies pressed up against each other, gyrating to the music. I spotted the stumpy hybrid slouched at one of the bars in the corner farthest away from the door. No doubt intentionally. I’d have a long jaunt to the exit if anything were to go wrong. Even with my magical boots, who knew what these motley supernatural thrash goths were capable of? Also, I was slightly outnumbered.
    I sat on the empty stool next to Cosby and tapped my helmet, de-cloaking. “Hey.”
    He jumped a bit. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!”
    “First of all, you’re no person. Second of all, only those who are hiding something think people are sneaking up on them.” I waved over the bartender and ordered a shot of vodka.
    “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” he warned.
    “It’s not for me. It’s for you.” I shoved the shot glass in front of him.
    “I don’t drink,” he murmured.
    “Look, can we get down to business? I want you to write the address of the escort service on that cocktail napkin, and I’ll be on my merry way.”
    He stood up. “Not yet. I want you to see something.”
    “I’m not going anywhere with you, shorty.”
    Ignoring me, Cosby walked toward one of the sinister mausoleums and opened the door, staring back at me. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the cocktail napkin and joined him.
    “You try to pull any vampire-demonic crap, I’ll cut you in half,” I warned him as we stepped into the small room.
    The semi-circle booth made of shiny red leather took up half the space. Once my eyes adjusted to the scarce light coming off the candles, I noticed Charlotte hunched over in the booth. I squeezed into the seat and lifted her chin. Her brown puppy dog eyes were glazed over and not able to focus on anything. And she looked like shit. Her skin was ashen and she had deep shadows under her eyes.
    “What did you do to her?” I yelled, sliding out of the booth and shoving Cosby up against the door, holding my sword against his throat.
    “I didn’t do anything, Miss Farrow. Diamond has her under a spell, using the powers of the Sacred Scroll combined with an ancient vampiric incantation.”
    “Why would he do that to Charlotte?”
    “He’s using her as collateral to keep Lilith in check. In exchange for his protection, he’s commissioned Lilith to lure high-level players into the escort service. She draws them in, Diamond gets them to divulge trade secrets, and then he blackmails them. Sometimes he kills and bleeds them for sport.”
    Charlotte looked vacant and hollow, as if her entire essence had been drained from her body. Lucius was sucking blood, money and souls. I needed to save my friend. I could’ve killed Lilith for getting her into this mess.
    I pressed my sword harder into Cosby’s neck. “Let’s say this is true, why are you telling me