Blood Chained (Dark Siren Book 3) by Eden Ashley

warehouse-style building. Nothing in the immediate surroundings offered a clue as to the full scale rave that happened every night below. To get in, a calling card was needed—a simple plastic rectangle, black, with a fine, red line drawn across the base. Kali had no idea how or why Orrin had acquired it, but felt immense gratitude tempered by a cautious amount of uncertainty.
“Are you sure about this?”
Orrin nodded and nudged her forward.
The dress code was apparently all black. Every soul who entered and exited the club wore the color from head to toe. Kali and Orrin blended in easily. The first room was almost completely dark. A thin row of red lights receded into the floor highlighting a trail for patrons. They followed it to a narrow staircase. There, the muted thump of music grew louder with each step. At the bottom of the stairs, Kali got her first glimpse of the cellar.
Red lights backlit a stage where a deejay spun a string of frenetic beats. The crowd pumped along with the music, male and female bodies writhing and gyrating as if in throes of seizures. Mouths were parted, showcasing artificial fangs. Contacts transformed many irises to a white that glowed eerily beneath black lights hung low from the ceiling.
The smell of sweat was strong. The smell of alcohol, even stronger. Smoke permeated the air in a thick haze. Kali looked up at Orrin in an effort to quiet her doubts. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he steered her toward another set of stairs she hadn’t noticed. Up there and away from the crowd, some of the tension she felt bled away.
A huge, pug-faced guy stood guard next to an empty dark corridor. Noticing Orrin, the man nodded and stepped aside. Now Kali was curious.
Taking her wrist, Orrin led the way to one of many private rooms on the hall. The front walls and doors were all constructed of paneled glass. Inside, the black and red theme continued, but now in luxurious leather. Taking her into a room near the end, Orrin gestured Kali toward the couch and turned to leave again. “Wait,” she called.
Orrin stopped. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you going to explain any of this?”
“What do you mean?”
Lifting her arms to indicate the current surroundings, she stretched both eyes wide, attempting to express the incredulity of it all. “How do you know about this place? Why does the bouncer recognize you on sight? And why do you have VIP access?”
When Orrin opened his mouth, Kali learned things she had never hoped to know about him.
“The women here are strange, open to anything,” Orrin paused. A hint of a smile played at his lips. “And they like it rougher than most.” And with that, he left.
Kali was stunned. He had answered without answering and a lot could be gleaned from the simple statement he’d made. Lisa always said it was the quiet ones you had to look out for.
When she realized he hadn’t told her where he was going or for how long, Orrin was long gone. Alone and in the quiet, raw hunger pressed to the fore of her mind once more. By the time he returned, Kali was fidgety and anxious again. Her hands shook so badly, she considered sitting on them to hide the tremors.
Four guys followed Orrin inside the room and lined up neatly against the opposite wall. With the twist of a dial, the glass panels became opaque and gave them total privacy.
Folding his arms in front of him, Orrin dipped his head. “Make your selections.”
Shocked, Kali hadn’t known what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t this.
One of the men stepped forward. He was average height, nicely built, with spiked blond hair and soft bedroom eyes deepened by a thick trim of black eyeliner. His voice was southern velvet. “Mistress, it would be an honor to serve you.”
Wow. Kali eased from the sofa. Her feet moved with a will of their own toward the buffet line. Another suitor spoke. “You’re beautiful—a dark angel. I would die happy in your arms.” This one was bigger than the first, but not quite Orrin’s