
I thought it was hard to have worked at Armstrong Travel filing and making copies in a blouse, pencil skirt, and hose. I was happy I’d been born in the time of air-conditioning.
The red-tiled smokestack, once full of thick smoke, was now barely standing. What was once home to machines and laborers was now home to modern-day vampires.
I found the entrance that I had watched Onyx and Scarlet pass through. The door was unstable, looking like it might come off its hinges at any moment. I held it steady and gently opened it.
I quietly stepped over discarded materials and around garbage left by others’ sneak-ins as I made my way to the main part of the factory. So far I didn’t see any signs of the makeover I was hoping this empty mill would take on.
Instead of neon signs adorning the walls and a tiled dance floor, spray-painted graffiti was the only decoration, and broken chairs were cast aside in the corners like litter. I knew the vampire crew wasn’t in this room — the light was too bright for them to hide. They’d need a place dark and big enough to shelter five coffins.
As much as Jagger had been a pain to both Alexander and me, he did make the Coffin Club in Hipsterville a thriving place for both mortals and vampires to hang out. Jagger had a great imagination and was successful in seeing his vision come to life. And now I imagined how this factory could be transformed, too. I wish I’d thought of it first. But had it been my idea and my venture, the only thing that was sure was that no one would come. With Jagger, he already had vampires inhabiting it and hadn’t done a thing to it.
