“Impressive,” Chris murmured from beside her.
“Yeah,” she said and finally tore her attention away from the rafters. “I guess I should see if those men are here.”
Chris nodded and she stepped away from him. She refused to look at Julian and that woman again as she began to mingle with the crowd. The few people she knew greeted her, but most of the people within the room weren’t the type to spend much time at Clint’s. She searched for someone she recognized from the fight, and finally spotted one of the men standing at the bar.
With ease, she weaved her way through the crowd toward the stage. The sound of the music was louder up here but still not overwhelming. She climbed the two steps and walked across the stage toward the stranger. Stepping beside him, she rested her hands on the bar and leaned forward to study the bottles lined up before the glass. The assortment of liquor lining the shelves would have made Clint jealous.
“Would you like me to make you something?” the man beside her offered.
“I’m having a tough time deciding,” she replied with a smile as she tried to recall his name.
He grinned at her. “I’ll make you something special.” He made his way around the bar and began to study the bottles on the shelves. “You work at Clint’s.”
“I do,” she answered though it hadn’t been a question.
“I was part of that fight last night.”
“Oh really?” she feigned. “It was all so crazy; I didn’t know what was going on.” Ugh, she kind of disliked herself right now. Weak, confused female wasn’t a role she played well. She hoped he’d been preoccupied enough he hadn’t seen her break the other guy’s nose.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze and smiled as he placed a bottle of rum on the bar. He may like fragile women, but at least he knew how to pick a drink. “It was a little hectic. You should have stayed out of it, but I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
Her teeth clamped together; she forced a smile. “Me too.”
She leaned closer to him while he dropped some ice in the glass. What am I doing? She wondered. This wasn’t her; she wasn’t a flirt. She sure as hell didn’t pretend to be demure and weak, especially not around someone who could possibly be the next Jeffrey Dahmer.
Then she heard the cackling laughter of Ducky and she knew immediately what she was doing. She was staying away from that shit show. If she was honest, she might admit she could be trying to make Julian jealous, but she found she much preferred to lie to herself right now.
The ice clinked against the side of the glass when he slid her drink toward her. “Thank you.” Her voice had stopped being flirty and airy though.
She’d been many things over the years, but one thing she’d always prided herself on was being independent. She couldn’t deny that Julian affected her; she wouldn’t change herself for him though. Julian would be able to find out if this man was a killer just by touching him. Her leading him on would get them nowhere and only make her feel worse about herself.
She grabbed hold of the glass and swallowed the contents. The man’s eyes lit up as he took her glass to refill it. This was the most she’d ever drank. Thankfully, her digestive system processed alcohol far faster as a vampire than it had when she’d been alive. She didn’t even have a buzz after all of the alcohol she’d consumed tonight. Which was a good thing because Clint would kick her ass if she crashed his Jeep, his baby.
He refilled her drink and pushed it toward her. Propping his elbows on the bar, he leaned toward her. “So,” he said, and before she knew what he intended, he ran his finger down the scar on her chin. “How did you get this?”
Quinn recoiled from him; memories flooded her mind. For one horrible minute, she was trapped in a place she’d spent the past six years trying to avoid. Closing her eyes did nothing to block out the blood splattering the room. It did nothing to shut out the image of the only woman who’d ever been a mother to her falling before her. The screams of the dying echoing in her ears drowned out the music filling the room.
A shudder ran through her. She forced herself to open her eyes and shake off the memories of the past as she strained to concentrate on the present. He’d thrown her off when he’d asked the question. Most people pretended not to see her scars, others stared openly at them, but in the six years since her face had been sliced open, no one had ever outright asked her about them. She didn’t know if she hated him for asking, or if she had a grudging admiration for having the balls to ask when no one else ever had.
She forced herself to shrug. “Accident.”
It had been far from an accident but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Her hand was steady when she picked up her drink. Instead of drinking it, she placed it back on the bar.
“Car?” he asked.
“No,” she replied abruptly. “Thanks for the drink.”
He seized hold of her wrist when she went to turn away. Her first instinct was to zap his hand away from her, but she managed to suppress it. With the mood she was in, she might just cause him to fall into the bottles lining the glass shelves and attract far more attention to them than she was looking for right now.
“What’s the rush, honey?” he inquired.
“I’m not bear food, my name is Quinn. I have to get back to my friends.” She tugged on her wrist but he didn’t release it. Her teeth ground together. The cells in her body began to slide toward his; she could feel the crackling energy within them as they sought out his skin. “Let me go.”
The flood of her energy pooled against the palm of his hand. It would be so easy to pull the life force from him, to feed on it and absorb it. She was a vampire in every sense of the word, a drainer of life in every possible way, and the idea of taking it was so very enticing.
No matter how tempted she was to give him a jolt he would never forget, it wasn’t enough of a reason to flirt with the lure of darkness that came with her ability. There would be so much pleasure if she ever gave in and allowed herself to wield her ability freely, but she could never let herself become one of the monsters she’d always despised. She would walk into the sunlight first.
His lips skimmed back to reveal his teeth in a strange smile that looked more like a grimace. “What’s going on?” She’d been so focused on the man she hadn’t felt the pulse of power that signaled Julian’s arrival.
Quinn gave up on pulling her wrist free as she turned to face Julian. She disliked Cowboy holding her wrist, but she didn’t need someone to rescue her. Not when she could blast Cowboy’s grip off of her or rip out his throat.
“Just getting a drink,” she replied. Julian’s gaze slid from her to the man and back again. The man released her. Instead of pulling her arm away, she left it resting on the bar and smiled up at Julian. “Where’s your friend?”
Julian’s eyes twinkled; he put his elbow on the bar and leaned against it. Cowboy glanced between them before leveling a resentful look on Julian. “She’s around,” Julian replied carelessly.
“I’m sure she is,” Quinn said and lifted her drink.
“We were talking here,” Cowboy protested. He definitely had a set of balls, she decided as Julian had a good two inches and thirty pounds on him.
Julian gave him the amused look most people gave to a toddler talking into their toy phone. Quinn bit on her inner cheek to keep herself from laughing. “And?” Julian drawled.
Cowboy made a huffing noise. Deciding Julian wasn’t worth fighting with, he turned his attention back to Quinn. “Would you like to dance?” he asked her.
Not at all, she thought, but she pondered the proposition while she stared at Julian. The smile slid from his face; his eyes burned into hers as he waited for her answer. Quinn lifted her drink and finished it off. She pushed the glass away from her. The guy went to grab for it at the same time Julian did. Their fingers bumped against each other before Julian pulled his hand away.
She gave him a questioning look; he shook his head no. Quinn’s shoulders sagged, all the energy drained from her. Befo
re she’d been looking forward to pummeling her punching bag, now all she wanted was to go home, crawl into bed and sleep until she had to go to work tomorrow night. That wasn’t going to be an option, but at least she didn’t have to deal with Cowboy anymore.
Ignoring the drink Cowboy placed before her, she turned away and hurried down the steps to the main room. Her gaze ran over the few dozen people gathered within. Chris and Melissa were talking with another one of the men from last night, but she didn’t see the other two. The crackle of energy against her spine alerted her to Julian’s presence behind her.
“Where are the other two men?” she inquired.
“In the room next door would be my guess,” he answered.
She weaved her way through the crowd and back out to the main entryway. Her eyes traveled to the red velvet draped over the other massive doorway. “Are we allowed in there?” she whispered.
“Dewdrop we’re allowed to go wherever we want, once we’re invited in of course,” he added with a wink.
“People have a right to their privacy.”
“Not tonight.” Before she could stop him, he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. Quinn hesitated outside, unwilling to intrude upon someone’s space. He turned back to her, his eyebrow arched as he studied her. “Scared?”
“Are you going to double dog dare me next?” she scoffed.
“Triple dog dare.”
“For someone who was alive when Columbus set sail, you have the maturity level of a teenager,” she retorted.
Damn she hated that smile, or not so much the smile, but the strange flips and flutters it caused to erupt in her belly. “I’m young at heart. Let’s go you cranky old fart.”
Her nostrils flared as she glared at him, but she still followed him into the dimly lit hallway beyond the drapes. This area of the movie theatre was far different than the remodeled one they’d just left. She felt a little claustrophobic, as the black walls were only inches away from her arms.
“I think we just stepped into the nineteen seventies,” she muttered.
“I really hope there are no black lights somewhere. Even I didn’t enjoy that little trend. With as pale as vampires are, we all looked like freaks under those things.”
“I’m more afraid of the key party you mentioned before.”
“I don’t think it’s that either,” he muttered as he surveyed the hall.
Quinn didn’t like the constricted hallway, but she sensed no impending danger from the shadows surrounding them. They passed by a few doors that were open to reveal the rooms beyond. A library, stuffed full of books and two comfy looking sofas almost made her stop to go snoop. The other two rooms had small beds tucked within the orderly spaces. No pictures, perfume, jewelry, or other personal items marked the rooms. Looking in at them, she assumed they were guest rooms.
At the end of the hall was a closed door of another room she thought might be the master bedroom; she certainly wouldn’t want people looking in on her sleeping space. Beside the closed door was a set of stairs leading up. The scent of cigarettes and cigars drifted down to her, along with the aroma of stale booze and beer.
Craning her head, she stared up the stairs but could only make out a faint light above as the stairs curved out of view. It didn’t smell like anyone was having sex up there, but she really didn’t want to take the chance that they might be.
Unfortunately, Julian didn’t have any of the same reservations she did; he immediately started up the stairs. If the scents changed to something more intimate by the time they arrived at the top, she planned to turn and bolt back down the stairs. She’d leave him behind if he decided to join the party.
She planned to live years, and experience many things, none of them involved discovering her neighbors involved in an orgy. She fought the urge to cover her eyes when Julian made it to the top and stepped out of view.
A clinking noise came from above; she could also make out a distinct rattling sound. She couldn’t quite place what was creating the noises as she stepped off the stairs behind him and into a large room. The smoky haze filling the air caused her eyes to water; she rapidly blinked away the tears. Her forehead furrowed as she stared around the room. It took a minute for her to process that she hadn’t walked into some sort of bad porno movie.
Poker chips clinked together as the people sitting around one of the poker tables tossed them onto the pile in the middle. Two other card tables were set up in what had been the old projection room. There was also a roulette and craps table in the room. All of the card tables were filled with people, and there were more people standing behind them waiting to take a seat.
“Not what I was expecting,” she murmured.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Dewdrop,” Julian replied.
She shot him a look, but he was too busy watching the room to notice her. A few heads looked up when they entered, but for the most part no one paid them any attention and remained raptly focused on their games. She spotted the other two men from Clint’s last night at the roulette table. They had beers in their hands as they watched the ball spinning around the wheel.
A lanky brunette approached them in a dress Quinn would have considered more of a nighty. Apparently it was perfectly acceptable public wear for this woman as no one else gave her a second glance. The woman raked Quinn with a scathing gaze from head to toe; it seemed she found Quinn’s outfit as inappropriate as Quinn found hers.
“It’s a hundred dollar entry fee,” the brunette said, her attention solely focused on Julian.
Julian pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He searched through the wad of cash as he spoke, “It’s just me playing, but I’d like to keep my lucky charm here with me.”
Quinn groaned inwardly as the trashy brunette looked her up and down again before glancing at the stairs behind her. It was obvious she didn’t think he could possibly be calling her his lucky charm. Quinn didn’t know what possessed her, she stepped closer to Julian and wrapped her arm through his. She smiled sweetly at the woman as Julian lifted his head to stare at her in disbelief.
“Call me lucky,” she said through her teeth.
The woman gave her a disdainful look, but she took the hundred Julian handed out to her and slid it into her ample cleavage. “You can call on me for anything you need,” she said to Julian before turning on her heel and walking regally through the crowd.
Quinn glared at the woman’s back, a back she could clearly see through the mesh of her dress. “Careful, people might think you like me.”
“Hardly,” she snorted. “I just don’t like snot bag, stuck up women.”
He looked down at where her arm was linked through his before his eyes came back to hers. She tried to deny it felt good to feel his flesh against hers. Even at its slightly cooler temperature, it heated her in a way she’d never experienced before. His eyes dilated, his fingers sliding over her skin caused shivers of pleasure to dance across her flesh. If she still breathed, she would be breathless, if she still had a heartbeat it would be racing. She felt trapped within his gaze, unable to move as his fingers continued to brush sensually over her flesh.
Her ability coursed to where their arms connected. To her surprise, it wasn’t seeking out his life force but looking to connect with him in some way. The rush of power she felt when she linked with him caused her to remember why she’d been trying to avoid touching him to begin with. Terror pooled through her, she jerked her arm away as if he’d burned her and took a hasty step away.
Fighting to regain her composure, she ran her hands nervously over her arms. How much had he seen of her? What had he seen? The spinning of her mind caused the world to blur a little.
Inwardly, she kicked herself in the ass; her temper had gotten the best of her. However, she had to admit she’d been craving to touch him again ever since that first time. In the heat of the moment, she’d completely forgotten the riskiest thing she could do was let her guard down around this man and allow herself to touch him.
The longing look on his face unsettled her even more. He stretched a hand toward her, but dropped it back down when she took another step away from him. “Dewdrop…”
“We should get this over with. Sunrise is only a couple hours away.”
Before she could hear what he had to say, or what he’d learned of her, she made a bee-line for the roulette table. She had no idea how the game was played. Julian handed out more cash in exchange for chips.
“Have a lucky number?” he asked her.
“Thirteen.”
“Good thing I’m not superstitious.” He smiled at her, but she was still so rattled she couldn’t come up with a snappy retort. He placed a number of chips on the black number thirteen. Quinn remained immobile as she watched the ball bouncing around the spinning wheel before it finally landed on the number thirteen. “You really are my good luck charm,” he said with a grin as the chips were pushed toward him. “Pick another number.”
Her fingers trembled as she shook her head. She didn’t care about picking another number, all she cared about was getting out of there. Before she could turn away, he grabbed hold of the hand she’d rested on the table.
A zing of pleasure ran through her; she tried to tug her hand away from his unyielding grasp. Power grew in her fingertips, her skin crackled with the life force she could feel swirling between them. She didn’t want to harm him, but he refused to release her.
“Pick a number, Quinn.” His gaze was as unrelenting as his hold on her. She had to be hurting him; he showed no sign of it as his face remained blank. The full force of her power didn’t flow into him but it was enough to inflict pain. Like the rolling tide, she pulled his energy from him and shoved it back into him in equal measure. He kept his hand wrapped around hers when he placed them both on the table.