Youri hesitated a moment longer outside Lux, where the pulsing neon flickered in the dark, throwing crimson and indigo waves across the pavement in time with a heavy bass beat. Then he took a deep breath and went in. At once the thick, electric air closed around him: perfume, alcohol and a kind of static that buzzed with energy. Above him the ceiling vanished into a haze of smoke and holographic projections flickering like ghosts.
The club was enormous, a labyrinth of tall tables crowded around a podium in its center. VIP sections were tucked into each corner, furnished with glossy leather couches that gleamed under the lights and faced each other across small tables, full of men and women lounging comfortably while the booming music drowned out every word they said. Youri made his way through the crush, sidestepping tables and weaving through the chaos. He had just started further in when a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him sideways. It belonged to a woman in her mid-twenties with platinum-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, in a tight black leather dress that shimmered under the neon.
"Come here, cutie," she purred, flashing him a sultry smile. "Let's have some fun."
Caught completely off guard, Youri was still trying to understand what had happened when she pulled him down between herself and three other girls at her table, where the air was thick with laughter and expensive perfume.
"Let's party!" the blonde called out to her friends, nudging him closer.
The girl on his left — a little older, perhaps in her late twenties, with long brown hair and deep black eyes, in a tight gray dress — grabbed his head and pulled it against her chest. Youri jerked back, flustered, with no idea how to react, while the other two girls, one in bright yellow and one in simple black, giggled at him. The one in black, with dark hair and green eyes, looked to be about his own age. They were all still laughing when a voice cut through the noise.
A man had laid a hand on the blonde's shoulder. When she turned, he was standing over her with a confident smile, his slicked-back hair gleaming in the neon and his glasses looking oddly out of place in the dark club. He wore a white shirt open at the collar over a gold chain, and he was well dressed, but there was an arrogance in his smug face that hung around him like cologne.
"Hey, beautiful," he said smoothly. "Why don't you and your friends come enjoy yourselves at our VIP table?"
The blonde's smile widened. "Hell yeah! Lead the way!" And she gathered up her friends and followed him.
They crossed the club to a secluded section where three other men were sitting on a leather couch. In the middle sat an older man in his late fifties, in a white suit and glasses, with his bald head gleaming in the neon glow. On either side of him sat two men who looked almost identical, both with slicked-back hair and cheap tinted glasses, one of them in a red suit and the other in a floral shirt and white trousers. The girls settled in among them — and the brown-haired girl, who had never let go of Youri's arm, dragged him along with them.
The man in the white suit noticed him at once, and his gaze was sharp. "Who's the guy in the back?"
The man who had brought the girls over turned, saw Youri and frowned in annoyance. He came striding toward him. "Who told you to come here?" he shouted.
Youri raised his hands. "Sorry, man. I'll leave."
"You'd better," the man snapped, and he pulled a knife from his pocket.
Before things could go any further, a voice rang out behind him. "Edward! Put that away!"
It was Gloria, and her eyes were blazing as she stormed over. "If you cause any more trouble, you'll be banned from Lux. For good." She glared at him until he reluctantly put the knife away, and then she turned on the man in the white suit. "You know the drill, Malkom. Keep your dogs on a leash, or I'll be forced to put them down."
Malkom pushed his glasses up onto his head, looking more amused than threatened. "Come on, Gloria. Cut them some slack. You know how they are."
Gloria didn't even look back. She took Youri by the arm and led him away. "This is a place for partying," she muttered, "not a slaughterhouse."
When they reached a quieter table at the far side of the VIP section, she dropped into a chair and gave him a stern look. "For someone who just walked into my club, you sure know how to stir up trouble with Malkom."
Youri was still rattled, trying to make sense of it all. It took a moment for the name to land, and when it did, Barnaby's words came back to him. Ask for a man named Malkom.
"Wait," he said. "That was Malkom?"
Gloria's eyes widened. "You know him?"
Youri scratched the back of his head. "I was supposed to go and see him if I wanted a job."
Her eyes narrowed, and a slow frown spread across her face. "So you're a goon, then?"
"No!" he protested quickly. "I was only told I should talk to him about a job. I swear, I'm not… whatever you think I am."
Gloria leaned back, and her expression softened a little. "Listen. If you want money and status, sure, go for it. But trust me when I tell you that guys like Malkom are the reason this place is the way it is." She studied him for a moment. "So choose wisely."
Youri let out a sharp breath, and his shoulders sank. "I get it. I guess I'll have to find something better. A real job."
Gloria's gaze lingered on him a while longer, and then a slight smirk appeared on her face. "Actually, I have a proposal for you."
Youri raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposal?"
She leaned forward, her voice low but sure. "You don't give off the musclehead vibe, but I get the feeling you've got guts. How about you come and work for me? Take care of the trash around here — Malkom's kind, Edward's kind, anyone who causes trouble. You get rid of them. Just throw them out into the street."
Youri stared at her, turning the offer over, and this time his head was clearer than it had been all night. Maybe, he thought, this wasn't the worst deal in the world after all.