One short walk from the front of Aftermath down a dimly lit corridor, and Miki entered another realm. A dark realm filled with decadent, wanton delights—if the soft, breathless laughter and throaty moans were any indication. The lack of electric lights and music did nothing to dampen the mood of the people crammed into the small, airless room. Candles lined the bar and the wooden shelves behind it, casting golden light to the edge of the counter, but not penetrating the gloom beyond. Not that Miki needed illumination to know what was happening in the darkness around her. Bodies writhed together. The musty scent of sex and blood was almost overpowering. Miki elbowed her way to the long, wooden counter and leaned over it to get the bartender’s attention. “Anything on the menu that isn’t red?” Young, blond, and amused, his glance flickered over her. “As long as you take it straight from the bottle. No ice. First time here?” “Yeah.” Her gaze swept past him to roam the room again.
