Chapter Thirty

Modus Operandi

Edgar wished he could record every single detail about the Evening Club in a video. Huge “No Phones or Mobile Devices Allowed” posters were displayed throughout the premises. Sheryl and her friends were regulars here, Edgar noticed as the staff greeted them all by name. What was their game? What did the Evening Club offer them in return for inviting outsiders in? He noticed bite marks on Sheryl's wrists. Some of the women had scratches on their backs.

He needed to figure out the modus operandi before he and Harry fell into whatever trap the women, or their supernatural acquaintances, probably had waiting for them.

The bar had a mixture of human beings, werewolves, and the odd vampires who were brave enough to risk the walk in daylight. Were the human beings on the vampires’ menu? The werewolves kept to themselves on the opposite end of the bar, barely touching their alcoholic beverages.

Edgar squeezed Sheryl’s arm gently. “My friend and I are hungry,” he told her once he had her attention. “We’re going to order something to eat. Would you and your friends like to join us?”

Sheryl laughed. “Nah, we’re just thirsty, not hungry. You guys go ahead.”

Two witches, dressed in head to toe black pantsuits, scanned the bar every now and then for signs of trouble. Or perhaps they were searching for signs of magic? Edgar glanced at the other patrons. None of them seemed bothered as the witches walked around the bar. One of the alabaster skinned witches paused in front of Edgar and glared at him. He turned away, pretending to read the menu.

“The steak looks pretty good,” Edgar told Harry.

“Yeah, I think I’ll give it a try as well.” He glanced up only when the witches had passed. “What did they want?”

“They were literally sniffing us out,” Edgar said. “They know we’re wolves.”

“What do you think is going on here?” Harry asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Edgar leaned closer to him. “It looks to me like they’re planning something. I suggest we take a walk once we lose our friends over there.” He smiled and waved when Sheryl blew him a kiss. The group was still seated on barstools around the bar, downing tequilas.

“And how are we going to lose them?” Harry asked.

Edgar pulled a few notes out of his wallet. “I’ll take care of their drinks. We’ll eat then leave.”

“I’m stuffed from lunch, Ed,” Harry said. “How on earth am I going to finish this steak?”

Edgar shrugged. “We’ll burn it off, I promise.” He had a feeling they wouldn’t have another chance to enjoy a meal as they explored the huge club. He wasn’t leaving here until he had a clear idea of the club’s modus operandi. He sensed tension in the air, the kind of tension that preceded an intense meeting. Were the patrons planning something? No, the humans wouldn’t stand a chance against the wolves or vampires. The wolves and vampires, on the other hand, seemed far too young and inexperienced to plan anything. There had to be something else at play. He searched for the witches. They were outside the bar, scanning the area. For what? Edgar fixed his gaze on them. What were they looking for?

A fleet of black, bulletproof Jeeps drove through the gates of the Evening Club. The witches snapped their fingers, and more witches dressed in black appeared out of thin air. They surrounded the black Jeeps. Edgar craned his neck to get a better look at who was inside the vehicles. The witches formed a tight wall around their guests. Harry, too, had noticed the visitors. Nobody else paid any attention to the mysterious guests.

“I’m going to look for the men’s room,” Edgar whispered to Harry.

“I’ll keep an eye here,” Harry whispered back.

Edgar walked away from the table casually. First, he stopped to talk to Sheryl. “Sweetheart, I’m in dire need of the bathroom.” He flashed her his most charming smile.

Sheryl laughed. Edgar realized she was already drunk. “That way.” Edgar glanced in the direction of her finger. She’d pointed him outside with the barman and her growing party of human friends as witnesses. Nobody corrected her.

“Thank you,” Edgar said. Going outside would give him a better view of the club’s mysterious guests. Perhaps if he was lucky he would hear their conversation, too. Edgar pretended to be confused as he looked for the exit; all the while, his kept his hearing fixed on what was going on outside. The glass and concrete obliterated words here and there. From what he could hear, Edgar deduced that the guests were attending a business meeting. The witches led them to a building across the dining area. Edgar watched as the witches left clouds of dust in their wake. He tried listening to what the guests were saying as they walked to the conference center, but the witches' chanting disguised their words.

Edgar made his way to the men’s room. He tried peeking through the high window by standing on the toilet. As the witches and guests reached the conference center, the dust clouds faded. The men at the rear of the group seemed familiar. Edgar ducked when one of them turned around and looked right at the men’s bathroom window. They were definitely magical beings as well. If he were closer, he’d have been able to sniff the man’s essence and deduce which species he belonged to; for now, all he could do was return to the bar and pretend he was here to eat a good meal.

“Did you learn anything?” Harry asked.

“No.” Edgar slid into his seat. “These beings running the show are professionals. We look like amateurs next to them.”

Harry stifled a grin. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“These witches use magic that’s on a whole different level than what I’m used to,” Edgar said.

They paused their conversation when a human waiter arrived with their food.

“Where did those Jeep guys go to?” Harry asked.

“They went to the conference center on the opposite end,” Edgar said, picking at his steak. If only he were hungry.

Harry took a huge bite of his steak. “We can’t sit here staring at our food.”

“You’re right.” Edgar forced himself to eat as much as he could. Once they were done, he settled the bill at the bar. Sheryl and her friends were too drunk to even walk.

“What are you going to do with them?” Harry asked.

“They need to go home,” Edgar said. The beings around them had fallen silent. It was like they were waiting for Edgar and Harry to leave before they made their way to the women. He smiled at the bartender. “Do you know a reliable cab company I could call to drop these women off at their homes?”

The bartender nodded. He scribbled a number on a piece of paper. Edgar called two cabs, which fortunately arrived within minutes. Harry helped him escort the women to the cabs; luckily a few of them were snapping out of their drunken daze.

“What do you think these idiots had planned for them?” Harry asked as the wolves and vampires glared at them when they walked into the bar again to fetch their jackets.

“We don’t need to guess what the blood suckers wanted,” Edgar said. “As for that bunch of dogs, my guess is they wanted to practice their hunting skills using them as bait.”

Edgar ignored the growls and hisses as they walked out of the bar. It was against the rules of any supernatural community to harm innocent humans. Whoever was allowing this level of torture needed to face the full wrath of the law—even if it was Elena.

***