Hell's Teeth (Phoebe Harkness Book 1) by James Fahy

dark interior of the former pub, feeling as though I might as well be stepping through Lewis’ wardrobe into Narnia after all.
    “Maybe I should book myself an appointment with the Doc too?” he called after us, eying our rears. “Think I might be coming down with something myself.”
    “Sorry,” I smiled back. “It’s a very private practice.” I was getting the hang of this.
    Inside, the ground floor was still a pub, old fashioned, wooden beams, slate floors, basically a long corridor. The only vampire cliché addition was the red velvet upholstery on the seats and benches, and the heavy ornate drapes which completely covered the windows. We fought our way through a crowd of spiked dog collars, silk and leather, and made our way to the bar, where I had decided to order something with large amounts of vodka before we headed downstairs into the club proper. Turns out the underground vampire scene was literally underground.
    Most vamp clubs in our city lay beneath existing pubs and bars. It was almost as though they wanted to ease you into their strange world slowly, through a reassuringly familiar airlock. Considering the alternative would be to descend straight from street level into what was basically a dark hole in the ground filled with carnivores higher up the food chain than yourself, this was understandable. But even if it was clever marketing, it still reminded me of those plants which lured insects in with sweet smelling and promising nectar, only to find themselves trapped and unable to leave, consumed in a leisurely fashion. Yes, I’m aware I am a party mood killer.
    Lucy ordered a bloody Mary, rather predictably. The barman was human as well, a tall Asian man with creamy skin and very long bone-straight hair which, for all its silken finery, must have taken him a good hour with the GHDs every evening.
    “So,” I said to Lucy, as we sipped our drinks and made our way through to pub to the back stairs. I could already feel the thrum and pound of the music below through my feet. “Griff doesn’t, you know, mind you coming out to these GO clubs. Hanging out with the vamps?”
    Lucy looked genuinely confused. “Griff?” she said. “Griff-from-work Griff? What’s it got to do with him where I go?”
    “I … sorry, I thought you guys were kind of an item?” I faltered.
    Lucy stared at me over her drink. Her Kohl-smudged eyes comically wide. “Me and Griff?!” She burst into laughter. “Oh my God, no! Seriously? Why on earth would you think that?”
    I cringed and sipped my woo-woo. “It’s just that when you called the other night, you guys were together, I suppose I just assumed…”
    “Nooooooo!” Lucy said, still deeply amused. Her hand fluttered to her chest. “We’re just friends, Doc. We hang out sometimes. Especially with the citywide brown-outs. If my power’s off he lets me move food to his fridge. That’s about the extent of it.” She grinned. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you thought … I mean he’s a sweet guy, but … no way.” She tittered as we reached the back of the ancient pub. “That’s so funny. He’s way too normal for me. I like my guys with more … bite.” She looked at me in what I imagine she hoped was a dangerous way.
    I inwardly rolled my eyes. Which is not to say I rolled them into my head. That would have been both gross and disturbing. I mean that I mentally rolled my eyes … figuratively. My actual eyes looked back at Lucy in what I hoped was an approving manner.
    “Besides, Griff is married to his work. I think the only thing he truly loves is his crappy little car. Come on, let’s get downstairs.”
    I followed her down into the belly of the beast, downing my drink in one and already wishing I had another.

 
    15
     
    Stepping beneath the Olde-Worlde charm of the Eagle and Child pub into the club below was a startling juxtaposition. The stairs emptied us into the vaulted roof-space of what looked like a large sunken cathedral. It was a riot