Gwenna turned to Alexis. "I feel slightly uncomfortable." Which was her very British way of describing the fact that she wanted to earth to open and swallow her and the very tiny dress she was wearing.
"Why?" Alexis scanned the dark room. "You look fantastic. Just relax."
Easy for Alexis to say since she was wearing jeans. Gwenna was wearing an exercise in insanity. With a plunging neckline. Which she kept trying to tug closed, only to have Kelsey smack at her and spread it even farther apart than it was originally.
So she hovered as close to Alexis as possible without stealing her oxygen and held a little clutch purse in front of her chest. This had been a really poor lapse in judgment. And given the vast crowd of concertgoers, there was no way she was going to find Slash. All she knew was that he was male and in his twenties. That took her potential pool down to a mere thousand guys, many of whom were strolling around pierced, tattooed, and wearing chains off their clothes or body parts. She saw lots of people opening their mouths and exposing fake fangs to each other as well, which she found incredibly disturbing.
Why did they want to be vampires? What exactly was the lure? Immortality, she supposed. Power. And of course, the irony was that Gwenna had never asked for her vampirism, had been given it by Ethan to prevent her from bleeding to death after Isabel's birth nine centuries earlier. There had been many times where Gwenna would have gladly given the gift of eternity back.
No longer, though. She had a purpose now, and it was to ferret out the slayers, and prevent an attack. And she needed to help Nate find Andrew's killer. His hobby, his playacting, like all these men around her pretending to be vampires, had gotten him killed, and somehow she felt inadvertently responsible for that.
"Hey." A guy with a shaved head and a black T-shirt that stated "Get Impaled, You Know You Want It," smiled at her.
Yikes. He was flirting with her. He was big and scary and she was so not ready for this. Gwenna felt the urge to grab on to Alexis and pretend they were a couple, but that would be an avoidance technique. And she was resolved to be stronger, more confident, to meet problems head on and deal with them entirely on her own.
"Hi," she said. Wow, that was really handling things.
Of course—duh—maybe this was Slash. Which meant she had to talk with him long enough to determine if that was a possibility.
The guy had to yell, since the opening band was on stage making what sounded to Gwenna like a godawful amount of noise. "You been to see The Impalers before?" he asked her, leaning down to speak directly to her ear.
His breath tickled her cheek. Shifting slightly away and looking up at him, she shook her head and forced a smile. "No, this is my first."
"A virgin." He grinned. "You'll like it, they put on a good show."
She just smiled, wracking her brain for something flirtatious to say, or at least something conversational. "I, uh…" Nothing. Zero. She couldn't even complete the sentence because her mind was utterly empty of words. And he was starting to lose his grin, like he thought she was a half-wit. Which maybe she was.
Kelsey saved her by moving in between the two of them and putting her forearm on Gwenna's shoulder, using her as a support. "So what's your name, cutie?" she said to the very tall and tattooed man who was the polar opposite of the descriptive cutie in Gwenna's book.
"Jason. What's your name?"
"Kelsey." She nudged Gwenna. "And this is—"
Gwenna cut her off, bursting out with, "I'm Queenie. It's nice to meet you."
Alexis gave a snort of amusement. Kelsey said, "Wow, cool, I like it," as if they didn't know each other. But Gwenna should be grateful Kelsey didn't just flat out give her away. And the guy was looking a bit skeptical.
"Queenie?" he said.
"Yes. My parents were British and Mum had royalty envy." It was much easier to roll with a lie when it was ludicrous. She briefly wondered why that was as Jason started to back up. "Is Jason really your name?"
"Uh, yeah. Well, um, enjoy the concert. See you." He disappeared into the crowd.
"Shit, I think you scared him, Gwenna. And he was cute, too." Kelsey frowned at his retreating back.
"I scared him? I don't think so. I'm not the least bit scary." She rather resented that. And if he couldn't take an unusual name, then he wasn't worth her time anyway. Not that she was at all interested in Giant Jason, but it was a bit insulting to think that little bitty her had been so weird or uninteresting that he had felt the need to dash off. Wimp.
But the important fact she had gained from that encounter was that she was now down to nine hundred and ninety-nine potential Slashes, because Jason hadn't reacted at all to her online name.
"What's with the Queenie thing? If you're going to use a fake name—which I totally support—couldn't you come up with a better one?" Alexis asked. "Like I think maybe I'll be Mackenzie for the night. I've always liked that name because it's a power name."
"Oooh, fake names. Okay, I'll be Winnie," Kelsey said.
Gwenna tried to imagine how Kelsey had plucked the name
Winnie
from the vast stores of knowledge in her sixty-year-old brain. It was more random than Queenie, which was really saying a lot. "Winnie. That's an unusual name. What made you think of it?"
"I've always liked the Pooh Bear stories." Kelsey's lip started to tremble. "Ringo used to read me the Winnie the Pooh books."
Now there was an intriguing glimpse into Kelsey's marital life. Her heroin-addicted assassin husband had read her the silly old bear stories? "That's so very sweet, Kelsey." And odd as hell, but who was she to judge?
"I need a drink," Alexis said. "So Mackenzie is going to the bar. Can I leave Winnie and Queenie together without the two of you getting into serious trouble?"
"Why would we get in trouble?" The very concept seemed to puzzle Kelsey. "We'll be totally fine."
"Okay, but stay together. Got it?" Alexis shook her finger at them.
Gwenna nodded. "We'll be fine." Her sister-in-law was spending too much time with Ethan. She was getting to be almost as overprotective as he was.
"Does anyone else want a drink?"
"No, thanks." Unlike other vamps, Gwenna had never developed a taste for any drink besides blood. But then she was supposed to be opening herself to new experiences, embracing life. "Actually, I'll have whatever you're having."
"I'll take a martini. Something flavored," Kelsey said.
"Okay, I'll be back."
Alexis headed to the bar, and Kelsey grabbed Gwenna's hand. "I'm so totally depressed. We have to hit on guys, that always makes me feel better."
And she dragged Gwenna to the nearest quartet of men, who looked up with obvious lustful interest, which was to be expected given they were being assaulted by two women not wearing enough clothing. Gwenna felt her cheeks burning, but reminded herself the room was dark, with red strobe lights, and no one would notice in the slightest her blush. Besides, she was supposed to be looking for Slash. It was part of her new plan to be proactive. Waiting around for him to approach her was so last century.
"So which one of you has the biggest penis?" Kelsey said to the men.
Gwenna about laid an egg.
That
was Kelsey's preferred method of hitting on guys?
Of course, her rather private and very inappropriate question got a reaction from all the men, who actually weren't of the tattooed variety, but looked like they had gone from the fraternity house to the golf course and had somehow landed in the wrong concert hall. All four insisted they had the biggest dick ever known to man, bragging to such an extent that Gwenna would have thought they were carrying an anaconda around in their pants from their descriptions.
"I'm serious," the one said when Kelsey told him he had to be lying. "It's just a fact. I'm huge."
"Show us," Kelsey challenged.
Oh, no. Gwenna wanted out of the
us
in that statement. She said, "No, really, don't show us. We believe you."
"I don't. I bet you've got nothing." Kelsey waved her hand in the air and started to turn.
Big Dick grabbed her arm and said, "If you want to see it, I'll show you."
Kelsey gave him an incredibly sweet smile. Gwenna was astonished at how manipulative Kelsey was behind that ditzy grin. "Cool. All of you, bring them out on the count of three."
Which was how Gwenna found herself staring at four penises simultaneously, doubling her lifetime exposure to male members in a matter of five seconds.
It was astonishing how they could all look essentially the same, yet so very different. Big Dick had a right to his brag. He definitely looked like super-sized next to his companions. Beyond that, Gwenna was just really starting to get a good look when a club bouncer yelled, "Hey! Put that shit away. This ain't no strip club."
She confessed to be slightly disappointed when they all immediately complied, tucking and zipping and looking around as if they'd just recalled where exactly they were. Not because she had any interest in actually interacting with any of their penises, but out of pure curiosity. It was the anatomical part that drove so much of male action she found herself wondering what was the big deal exactly. But that brief exposure didn't answer her weighty question in the least.
"That was hot," Kelsey told them. "Thanks." She took Gwenna's arm and led her away, whispering, "Never overstay the welcome or they'll start to get pervy ideas."
While Gwenna didn't think it was the lingering that would give them pervy ideas, but you know, perhaps the request to see their penises, she wasn't going to object to leaving.
"What were you doing?" Alexis demanded, standing where they had been when she'd left them, glaring while juggling three drinks.
Kelsey giggled and took a martini glass from Alexis. "Nothing."
"We just saw those guys' penises," Gwenna confessed.
"Oh, Lord." Alexis rolled her eyes and swallowed half her drink, handing the remaining one over to Gwenna. "Oh, look, I think the band is coming on to play."
The noisemakers had left and there was some movement onstage. Gwenna couldn't see very well because she was short and it was a standing-room-only concert in a nightclub. There were some tables on the balcony to the side, but the majority of the room was just a vast crowd of heads blocking her view. She could see the drum set and a guy with dark hair behind it messing around adjusting things. The rest of the stage just looked crowded with instruments, mics, and amplifiers. Absently, she took a large sip of her drink and stood on her tiptoes.
Bloody hell, the martini Alexis had got her was strong. Her eyes were watering, which could be dangerous, given her predilection for blood tears. She swiped at her eyes and gave a little cough.
Someone jostled her elbow. "Hi."
It was a guy. Another version of the jeans, black't-shirt, skull-and-crossbones-necklace-wearing, shaved-head guy.
"Hey. Is your name Slash?" she asked, deciding to hell with subtle.
"No." He raised an eyebrow. "But it could be if you want it to."
"No, I don't. I hate that name. I despise it. If you were named Slash I was going to spit on you."
"Ooookay." He turned and left, practically running.
Gwenna couldn't believe she'd just done that. She burst out laughing. "I'm losing my mind," she told Alexis.
"No, you're just coming into your own, sister. Go with it."
Maybe that was it. She was coming into her own. It was a liberating feeling. She'd had sex on a massage table with a hot-tie cop, and now she was getting sloshed on a martini at a rock concert wearing a napkin for a dress. This beat the hell out of sitting by herself in York sewing fuzzy scarves.
"Hey." She grabbed the arm of a guy in his young twenties walking past her. "Are you Slash?"
"No," he answered directly to her cleavage, which she actually had, thanks to Kelsey's plunging dress.
"Oh, then you can keep walking."
"What if I don't want to keep walking?"
"You have to."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Oh." He left with a disappointed look.
Gwenna was either drunk with power, or the martini that was essentially pure alcohol with a dash of apple flavoring had gone straight to her head. The room was getting quite warm and her fingertips felt slightly numb. By the time the band had taken the stage and performed their first set, Gwenna had plowed through two more martinis, had spoken to at least fifty guys, got propositioned multiple times, and was shown another three penises—confirming for her that all men were not created equal. She also had her ass fondled with no idea who the culprit was, and still had yet to find the infamous and ever elusive Slash.
He was starting to tick her off.
And she was definitely drunk. She was as drunk as her Uncle William when he'd fallen into the ale barrel and had drunk it down so he wouldn't drown without an adequate air supply.
"Who is Slash?" Alexis yelled into her ear, The Impalers blasting out a song that Gwenna thought she might recognize. Or maybe it was just that so many songs had the word
baby
in them.
"I don't know who Slash is." Which was the damn frustrating part of the whole thing.
"What? Then why the hell are you asking all these guys if they're Slash?"
It seemed obvious to her. "So I know if they're Slash or not."
Alexis frowned. "You've totally lost me. And you're drunk, by the way."
"I know. It's kind of nice." Fuzzy. Warm. Making her horny.
"Your brother is going to shoot me."
"So?" Gwenna drained her fourth martini, damn proud of herself for going to the bar and ordering it without help. "It's not like a bullet would kill you. And Ethan needs to stop treating me like a child. I'm a grown woman and I can make my own decisions."
Her
s
in decisions did a monstrous slur. Okay, so she couldn't manage to say
decisions
right at the moment, but she was still capable of
making
them.
"I totally applaud making your own decisions. If they're good ones."