“You know I’ve seen you manning the door here,” I said. “But I didn’t realize you worked for the police department too until you dropped by the Pork Pit to clear up that little mess the other night. Shouldn’t you be out arresting lawbreakers?”

Xavier’s grin widened. “Ah, the cop thing’s just a parttime gig. Besides, why go out there when they’ll all just be coming here later on tonight?”

“Good point.”

Xavier grabbed a couple of wooden boxes that had been stacked by the front door, and the tink-tink of glass inside caught my ear. Looked like a delivery of liquor of some sort. The giant hefted his burden and headed deeper into the club. Finn and I followed him.

The outside of Northern Aggression might have been a faceless shell, but the inside had a distinct personality, even during the middle of the day. The few overhead lights that were on highlighted the heavy, crushed red velvet drapes that covered the walls. The floor was a wonderful springy bamboo that cushioned our feet, but our steps still echoed in the hollow, empty building.

We crossed the dance floor, and Xavier veered off to the right toward a long bar made entirely of Ice elemental.

The structure was almost a hundred feet long and more like an elaborate sculpture than a piece of furniture. Runes had been carved into the slick surface, mostly suns and stars, the symbols for life and joy.

Both of which could be found in abundance here late at night, as long as you had enough money to pay for the privileges. The bar, of course, had been created by the Ice elemental who worked as the club’s bartender, and he’d used enough of his magic to make sure his creation wouldn’t melt before his shift started tonight. I could feel the cool caress of power halfway across the club. My own Ice magic, weak and sluggish though it was, stirred in response.

Xavier put his liquor boxes on the bar and gestured for Finn and me to go on without him. “I’ve got to get these unloaded. Roslyn’s waiting for you guys in her office. You know the way, Finn.”

Finn straightened his tie. “Indeed I do.”

He headed for the back of the nightclub and pulled open a door discreetly set into the crushed velvet that covered the wall. It opened up into a small hallway that ran in either direction before branching off at both ends. Finn turned left, and we zigzagged through a series of hallways before he stopped at a closed door. Finn knocked on it.

“Come in,” a muffled voice said.

Finn opened the door, and we stepped inside an office.

Roslyn Phillips sat behind a wide, massive desk that would have made even Xavier look svelte in comparison.