Chapter 255 – Floor 50: Part 1

  Floor 50: A Snake in the Garden of Eden

  Mathew exited the cab and paid the driver with some of the money Adelaide had given him. It felt like being given an allowance, and he had laughed when she told him not to spend it all on candy. Despite his misgivings about this world, the Elder was proving herself reliable and trustworthy as time passed.

  The neighbourhood around Eden had a neglected look. The sidewalks were cracked, weeds sprouted through the concrete, and graffiti sprawled across nearly every available surface. Even the streetlights on the car ride over appeared as if they could fail at any time.

  Yet Eden stood in stark contrast, a pristine oasis amidst the squalor. The club’s exterior was immaculate, with black brickwork so polished and clean that it gleamed. A sleek, crimson neon sign displayed the club’s name proudly overhead, shining in the night like a beacon drawing people in.

  The steel double doors reflected the street and were painted black to match the brick. It was completely free of any chips and rust, let alone graffiti that tainted the rest of the buildings.

  Bouncers loomed in front of the doors, men in tailored black suits. They were all large and imposing, with impassive faces and cold, watchful eyes.

  Even the street in front of Edgen seemed cleaner as if the club demanded perfection from its surroundings. No trash marred the pavements here, no stench of garbage or rot carried on the breeze. The line of patrons seemed to be perfectly tailored to the club’s preferred clientele. They were all young, well-dressed and wealthy.

  Mathew could hear the muffled sound of music through the thick walls, the bass deep enough that he could practically feel it through his shoes. Before he walked toward the entrance, Mathew took out the small pin that he had received from Adelaide the day before.

  The pin represented Clan Exaltis, and was only available to members to prove their identity to outsiders. Mathew didn’t need the pin to see if someone had Aether inside them or if they were connected through the tainted blood offered by Mischievous Depravity.

  But to those without it, the pin was a simple and effective way of demonstrating who he was working for.

  The pin was small, no larger than a quarter, and was made from polished black enamel edged in a silver frame. It showed a silver crescent moon cradling an upward-pointing flame in bright red. Behind the crescent moon and the flame, delicate thorns had been worked into the edges, barely visible unless they caught the light.

  Carefully pinning it onto his lapel so that it was easily visible, Mathew confidently strode towards the club. His appearance had caught the eyes of the bouncers, whose eyes flicked from his face to his expensive suit to the lapel pin. They immediately stepped aside and waved him forward as Mathew heard several people complaining from the front of the line at his preferential treatment.

  As soon as he glanced at them, they settled down immediately. After a quick, whispered word to one of the bouncers about where to find someone in charge, Mathew was directed inside.

  Inside Eden, the air was thick with a palpable energy that pulsed in sync with music that seemed to vibrate through Mathew’s bones. The club was sprawling, yet the low, dim lighting gave it an intimate feeling.

  Chandeliers hung overhead, casting red and gold hues onto the ground that was refracted by mirrors that lined parts of the walls. The main dance floor dominated one side of the space, where a sea of bodies were moving together under shifting beams of light.

  The floor itself was a sleek, black, reflective surface, and booths were lined along the edges where people lounged, their tables filled with drinks and food. A trick of the design made the music more muted from the entrance; the music was still clear but less deafening.

  There was a long bar to the right that stretched along a wall filled with bottles of liquor. Bartenders moved between the patrons, their black uniforms perfectly clean and matching. Beyond the bar was a small, exclusive dining area that was protected from the noise by smoky glass panels that only hinted at the experience found within.

  Above it all was the VIP area, a mezzanine that overlooked the dancefloor and bar area, with more tables and roped-off areas.

  Scanning the room, Mathew set off in search of someone in charge.

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  Isla slid through the chaos of Eden like a shadow, her tray balanced perfectly against her hip. The bass thrummed through her ribcage; each beat so deep it felt like it was rattling her lungs. The crowd was an ocean, and she didn’t look at faces unless she had to.

  It was better to keep her head down and do her job, a lesson she had learned after a year working here.

  She stopped at table twelve, a sleek black booth half-hidden in the corner of the dancefloor where three men were sat, laughing loudly to each other. She slid a new round onto the table, replacing the empty glasses with fresh ones.

  “Here you go.” Isla said, her voice even and distant as she set the last glass down and lifted the tray. One of the men, with slicked-back hair and a grin, leaned in too close to her and spoke.

  “Finally, we’ve been waiting all night, sweetheart.”

  Isla ignored him and did her best not to gag from the smell of alcohol and cologne. She picked up the tray of empties and the twenty-dollar bill left as a tip and retreated before anyone could say anything further.

  She knew that she was pretty enough to attract attention, especially in this place, and she tried her hardest to blend in with the other staff. Eden was safe, with the bouncers watching over everything, and the reputation of the owners meant everyone kept their hands to themselves, for the most part.

  But she was here because the money was good and she didn’t have a lot of options. The last thing she wanted to do was to get caught up in trouble or get involved in drama. She just wanted to do her job, collect her pay and go home.

  Setting the tray on the bar, she was about to pick up the next order when she felt the energy in the club shift.

  It was subtle, something that most people wouldn’t notice, but it was clear as day to anyone who spent a lot of time there. It spread through the room like a wave, starting near the doors as if something had stirred the crowd.

  Isla noticed the eyes of her co-workers, normally accustomed to almost anything that happened in Eden, flick toward the entrance and pause. She tried to ignore it and focus on her work, but curiosity tugged at her, and she eventually turned around.

  When she saw what was causing it, her breath caught in her throat.

  He stood at the threshold of the club, tall and with a posture that effortlessly commanded everything in the room. His suit was impeccable, as black as midnight and tailored to his frame like it had been created just for him. The fabric gleamed faintly under the low light, all sharp lines and perfect precision.

  His hair was as black as the clothing he wore and long enough that it curled behind his ears slightly. Everything about him screamed wealthy and perfect. His features, his face, he was so handsome that it seemed impossible to Isla that someone like him could exist.

  But it wasn’t just his looks or his attitude that held the room in place; it was his eyes. They were a bright, almost unnatural, blue that almost glowed with an inner light. They swept over the room with quiet intensity, sharp and observant, taking in every single detail of Eden before they locked onto hers.

  Isla felt like his eyes cut straight through her, bypassing the surface and digging deep inside her mind where all her secrets were kept. It was as if he could see everything, could pull any information he wanted from her mind.

  A flicker of panic surged in her chest, and she looked away and turned back toward the bar, breaking the connection as suddenly as it had appeared. But the weight of his gaze lingered, like a presence in the back of her mind, heavy and unrelenting.

  Her pulse thudded in her ears, and she didn’t realize that all movement around her had ceased as a voice spoke.

  “Do you work here?”

  She could recognize that voice even though she had never heard the man speak. It matched him perfectly, smooth and deep, with a tone that carried an unnerving calmness. It demanded attention, even in the loudest room.

  Isla spun around to face him; the tray still gripped in her hands. Now that he was closer, she noticed something that she had missed before. On the man’s lapel was a pin, one that she recognized and had been told by the manager of Eden to treat with the utmost respect.

  It belonged to the owners of Eden, a group that Isla didn’t know the name of, but she did know enough about to avoid. They had a reputation, and there were always rumours about the club’s owners floating around.

  The manager had made it clear: Never acknowledge the pin, never ask about their identities, and never say ‘no’ to anyone who wore it.

  “Can I…Can I help you?” Isla stammered nervously, the tray forgotten in her hands as the man stood in front of her. His eyes were once again on hers, although this time, they seemed less intense than before. Her nervousness was about to reach an all-time high when the man smiled.

  It was like the summer sun had suddenly been revealed from behind a dark grey cloud. She could feel the warmth from that smile, the kind that wrapped around you and put you at ease. Her nervousness and tension vanished, and she couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “My name is Mathew, and I’m here for an inspection of Eden on behalf of its owners. But, they neglected to tell me who I was supposed to speak to.” Mathew chuckled at the statement, and Isla’s smile widened.

  For some reason, she felt like she could trust Mathew, and she was eager to help.

  “You’re looking for the manager? He’s up in the back office, just up those stairs.” Isal offered, turning and pointing at a closed door on the second level next to the VIP area. Mathew followed her finger and nodded.

  “The manager, of course. Could you show me? I’d feel better with a guide.” Mathew said, and Isla nodded.

  “Of course, I’d be happy to. Please, follow me.” She said, placing the empty tray on the bar and leading Mathew into the club. All of her mistrust and nervousness were gone, as if they were never there in the first place.

  Inside Mathew, he could feel the Aether-Blood stirring slightly as his power took effect. The more he used it, the more people were affected by his Aura, the more proficient he grew with it, and the closer he got to the next Tier of power.

  Although it wasn’t an offensive ability, it seemed ‘Magnus’ was incredibly useful.