Chapter 219 B4. 14.3 – Solo Infiltration

The Perch was a circular bar consisting of tiers, reminiscent of the Colosseum, surrounding an irregularly shaped pool. Each level was black marble lined with golden filaments that glowed. The desert wind made the filaments dance, creating a magical effect and making the rooftop look like a fantasy setting. Were those hairy thingies supposed to mimic grass?

Oh, I get it! This place was a nest! A smaller nest within the much larger nest that was the Roost. Nested nest.

To my right was the bar made of the same black marble, and behind it were bottles of obviously expensive wine. I never knew about the wine brands or ages because of Rule #10: Don’t drink alcohol. Intoxication might inadvertently unmask me.

The hostess outside the elevator had the fakest smile ever. She gestured to a four-foot-tall column—it was also made of black marble, as everything here seemed to be. “Biometric for the Perch, Mr. Matherson.”

“I-I was here like five minutes ago.” I didn’t know why I made that excuse; I didn’t even change my way of speaking. An inexplicable sense of foreboding had made me defensive. It wasn’t nervousness about the mission, though there was plenty of that, too.

“It’s the establishment’s policy, sir,” said the hostess, her mouth barely moving to maintain her smile.

I placed my hand on the column’s surface. Soft light illuminated my hand’s bones and veins. Not sure what this machine was doing—it didn’t come in Cecilia’s research. But there should be no problem, right? My powers should fool it… hopefully.

My blood had been taken while using this mask, and the syringe drew something. An illusion of blood. Could I also generate the DNA or whatever of Mr. Matherson? Fooling bio-scanners was different from generating the exact genetic makeup of another person. Or maybe it was the same thing.

The column’s light turning green confirmed that my power could handle this challenge as well.

I thought I’d regain my confidence after passing the final obstacle. The opposite happened as I headed to the restroom. I became more apprehensive, as if there was something in this place that I should be wary of.

Something… or someone?

I glanced at the people I passed. Then I looked at the floor, remembering that no one should notice me because I’d change my disguise soon. And I didn’t want to talk to Mr. Matherson’s friends, if there were any around. I may have copied his appearance but not his memories.

I knew where the restroom was because Cecilia found the blueprint somehow. A mad scientist and a hacker; girls should aspire to be like her when they grow up.

But I didn’t go in the men’s room. Waiting time again.

This also wouldn’t be a long wait because girls regularly go to the ladies’ room with their friends to conduct unknowable rituals. Here came two giggling girls. It was the sign for me to enter the men’s room, which was fortunately empty. I didn’t let the door automatically close, listening to make sure that the girls did go this way. At least five minutes to freshen up their makeup.

I did a quick pass by the stalls to make sure there were no legs underneath. No one. What next?

Undo my disguise, I thought with all my might. I didn’t have an off button or anything, so I figured this should work.

And it did. My reflection in the mirror showed I was back to naked Erind encased in glass. Good to know that I didn’t need to take off this mask for a reset. But I felt like an exhibitionist being naked in the men’s room.

I opened the door a crack. The girls weren’t out yet. No one else seemed to be coming.

If I timed it right, my auto-disguise would generate an illusion that the girls would trust. Not to be sexist or anything, but if I wanted gossip, I figured I’d ask the ladies in the bar. If I used my auto-disguise on a guy, I expected to turn into their type of hot girl—that sort of happened already, so I also wasn’t being sexist there. Maybe a little. Guys would just try to get in my pants instead of giving me useful information.

Since the Perch was super exclusive, with biometrics and stuff, patrons would assume that everyone here was in the know, whatever that was they should know about. Add in alcohol, and those ladies would spill secrets soon enough.  

Goal number one: find a suitable disguise to infiltrate the Latch. Goal number two: get information about the 2Ms and the Tea Party. I expected I’d have more success with my second goal once I infiltrated the Latch.

Everything was going smoothly, but the sensation of nearby danger didn’t disappear. It only lessened when I entered the restroom. This wasn’t worry from overthinking. It felt like something radiating from specific areas of the bar.

I’d figure that out later. The girls were leaving the ladies’ room, their high-pitched laughter and loud voices suppressing the jazz music.

Clink, clink, went my glass heels as I followed them out of the short hallway back to the bar area. Before I could cough to draw their attention, one of them turned around. She jolted when she saw me.

“Oh! Um, hi…” She tucked her pink hair behind her ear. “You scared me stalking in the shadows like that.” Her voice had gone up to an unnaturally high pitch.

Fuck, did I turn into a hot guy? This was what I was trying to avoid because I didn’t have illusion money to buy drinks. But my plan was still intact. Just roll with it. “I’m not stalking anyone, miss.”

The other girl also turned. “Who are you talk—? Holy hot guy! Erm, I mean, I’m fine if you’re a stalker.”

“My first time seeing you beautiful ladies in this place,” I said, seizing the initiative. “Well, it’s been months since I’ve been here.”  

“Uh, yeah. This is only our second time here.” The girl with the pink hair leaned forward as she spoke, giving me a view of her ample cleavage. What a bizarre experience to have girls flirt with me. “We’re with our friend who’s, um, I think I can say she’s a regular.”

“Are you a regular, too?” asked the petite girl rocking a pixie cut with white accents.

“A regular of the Perch,” I said, “and the Latch.”

The girls exchanged glances.

“Oh, you should meet our friend. You probably know each other.” The pink-haired girl linked arms with me, pressing her breast against me.

I was taken aback by her forwardness. This was way beyond forward; my disguise must really be the man of her dreams. Was this the male version of what Deen experiences all the time? Attractive people were cheating in life!

“By the way, I’m Nyx,” she said. “Real name’s Monique, but I prefer shortening it. I spell it as N-Y-X. Nyx.”

“And I’m Roxanne,” said the girl with the pixie cut, giving me a tiny wave. “No special spelling on my end. Roxanne is just regular Roxanne.”

“What’s your name?” Nyx gave my arm a playful squeeze as she led me to their table. “Unless that’s some big secret, Mr. Regular. You look… familiar…”

“Guess my surname.” I gambled that I looked like Nyx’s real crush, and I’d build from there.

“I’m gonna say Clifford,” said Nyx. “Clifford, as in Gregory Clifford, the actor. My gosh, he’s so gorgeous! Too bad he’s married. But I don’t really have a problem with—”

“Nyx, don’t scare away our new friend here,” Roxanne cut in.

“Funny that you mention Gregory,” I said, “because we’re actually related. Distantly, mind you. He’s my second cousin. Just call me… Dean.” Why did I pick that? I was trying to recall the names of Deen’s rich friends. I couldn’t take it back anymore.

“You’re related to Gregory?” Nyx dug her fingers into my arm. “Can you introduce me to him?”

“He’s a busy guy,” I said. “At least you have me, discount Gregory Clifford. I have none of his acting chops whatsoever.” Lies flowed without a hitch. But that sense of foreboding returned and was ramping up.

My instincts blared that the lady in a silver dress with high slits sitting by the bar counter was dangerous, even if she was thinner than a supermodel. A gust of wind could probably fracture her bones. But I knew, somehow, that her appearance wasn’t indicative of her strength.

Though I was wary of her, I also had this sense of superiority. Not knocking her down or anything. It was a sure fact I was stronger than her.

I had the same feeling about the hulking man in a white suit. He stood menacingly at the edge of the bar, eyeing me for a second as we passed. I doubt he was there to prevent people falling over the near-transparent barrier of the roof. A guard.

Not a human guard. Was he… an Adumbrae? Was the woman in the silver dress also an Adumbrae?

Keke could sense me. Could it be that my Adumbrae-detection senses had developed? Either that, or it was inherent to this transformation.

“Don’t undersell yourself, Dean,” said Nyx. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re more handsome than Gregory. This is coming from Gregory’s biggest fan. Are you with your date or—?”

“Girl, control yourself,” Roxanne said. “We haven’t even returned to our table. You need to sit down before you faint.”

I missed my step. “So-sorry,” I mumbled.

Nyx giggled. “Are you trying to elbow my boobs?”

“No, no. I apologize if I did something inappropriate.” This thirsty woman weirded me out so much that my bearings returned.

I got distracted for a moment because I realized that we were heading to someone who gave off the same dangerous aura I had been sensing from others in the bar. Nyx and Roxanne’s friend might also be an Adumbrae. I might not need to infiltrate the Latch, with a potential target right in front of me. I wasn’t prepared to be successful this quickly.

How could I convince her to leave the Roost with me? Would I need to use force? Hostage her friends or something? And what if I slipped up, and she’d call for help from the Adumbrae guards? There were so many things that could go wrong. I wondered if overthinking was part of being normal.

“I’m all game for anything inappropriate,” said Nyx, “if you’re the one doing it, Dean.”

“My god, girl!” Roxanne slapped her friend’s butt. “We’re in the desert, but you don’t have to be so fucking thirsty!”

Tricking these girls didn’t seem difficult. Actually, I was more afraid of succeeding.

Someone with a smart brain reviewing the Roost’s security footage and bio-scanner logs would figure out that a shapeshifter had infiltrated the premises. If I cut off the arm of these girls’ Adumbrae friend and let them go, they’d immediately report me to the Tea Party. But if I killed them, I’d delay the Tea Party finding out about me, if at all.

I, as Erind, wouldn’t have any problems killing these girls. But I wasn’t Erind right now. Not completely. I even thought that killing some of the frat boys was wrong. At the least, the freshies were peer-pressured into that situation by their seniors.

“Vanessa, lookie who we hooked with our claws,” Nyx said in a singsong voice.

“This is Dean Clifford,” said Roxanne, pointing at me, though I never mentioned my surname. “He’s the second cousin of Gregory Clifford, the actor.”

The woman with a high brunette ponytail turned around. She had a conventionally beautiful face with friendly features, but nothing noteworthy that’d make me remember her. Not that I was good with remembering faces. I’d say she was early twenties, close to my age.

As she stood up, I saw her full outfit—a black sleeveless crop top with matching high-waisted fitting dress pants. Very fashionista without much effort. “I’m Vanessa Minnows,” she said.

“Minnows as in the mayor of La Esperanza,” said Roxanne. “She is his niece.”

Freeze frame. Play flashbacks of my conversation with Deen.

Vanessa Minnows supposedly had a terminal illness that was cured. Given our mayor’s connection with the 2Ms, Deen and I thought she might be an Adumbrae. Now, I confirmed it for myself. Well, I still didn’t know how my senses worked, but there was something wrong with her.

“You don’t have to mention that every time, Roxanne,” Vanessa hissed at her friend. “And you know my uncle’s suffering from bad press right now.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Roxanne said.

“Dean’s also a regular here,” Nyx added in a whisper. “Like you…”

“Really?” Vanessa looked me over.

I had to repeat my strategy. “We haven’t met before, Ms. Minnows.” I extended my hand. “I’ve stayed abroad for some time and haven’t kept up to date with who’s new.”

Vanessa hesitantly took my hand. I lightly squeezed her hand as I shook it, absorbing her identity. She squeezed me back with superstrength.

I responded in kind. Some kind of secret handshake?

That assuaged Vanessa’s misgivings about me, her expression turning friendly. “You’ve been abroad?” she asked. “How did you, erm… go about your maintenance? I’m not sure if we can talk about this.”

“Your secret is ours, Vanessa,” said Nyx, finally releasing me. She sat down to take a drink.

“I’ve made arrangements,” I simply replied. Vanessa might be referring to the 2Ms’ procedures to keep their clients from mutating into monsters. Some way to keep seeding in check. Given that I was her ‘senior’, she wouldn’t ask more.

“Join us, Dean,” Roxanne said. “We’re not going to ask you to buy us drinks, if you’re worried.”

I realized that I was still standing though the girls had already sat down. Nyx tilted her head toward the empty seat beside her. I came all the way here; my intentions had been clear. But I changed my mind. I didn’t want to have a reason to murder them.

“It’s not that,” I said. “It’ll be my pleasure to buy you drinks. But I remembered that I have a—”

That sensation again. Another Adumbrae approached us.

“Hey, girls! Who’s this guy?”

I looked over my shoulder. His voice was familiar. It took me a couple of seconds to recognize him.

It was Adrian.

From law school.