He moved back. As I stepped forward, though, he blocked my path, stopping so close I could feel his breath on the top of my head.

“Almost forgot. I’ll need the password.”

I looked up at him. “Password?”

He leaned against the open door. “Or handshake. I’m supposed to get the password, but I’d settle for the secret handshake.”

“Let the girl in, for God’s sake,” said a voice behind him.

A woman appeared. Her tight black jeans and Doc Martens clashed with her Donna Karan blouse. Dyed black hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Nostril and lip holes with no jewelry in them. Simple makeup, but a heavy hand with the eyeliner. She looked like a Goth trying to play it straight, and failing.

She waved me into the darkness beyond. “Ignore him. He’s practicing for a new career as a comedian, which will come in handy when we kick his ass out of the door.” She turned to him. “Go get Sonny and track down Rodriguez. Guy wants to talk to him.”

His gaze hadn’t left me. “Do I get an introduction first?”

“Later. If you’re lucky. Now move.” She led me through a curtain into a lit storeroom. “Speaking of introductions, you are…?”

I thought she’d know, but presumed she was testing me. “Faith. Faith Edmonds.”

“The Expisco? Thank God. Guy almost had a fit when he learned we had a shot at an Expisco and might get a witch instead. But rules are rules, and the girl was the niece of a contact, so we had to give her a shot.” She extended her hand. “Bianca, Guy’s second-in-command.”

She opened a door and we stepped into the club.

I know horror films always take place in dilapidated old mansions with creaky stairs and hidden passages, but for spooky places, I’d nominate a dance club before the doors open at night.