Fangs for Nothing (16 page)

Satisfaction filled him. She was as attracted to him as he was to her. Of course, being a vampire, he could also sense her desire, smell it. It was unbelievably arousing, the best, most heady scent he could recall ever encountering. Even more so than blood. Or maybe it was because the intense fragrance was a part of her blood, an essence unique to Josie Lynn alone. And just for him.

His fangs descended, like an inexperienced teen unable to control his bodily reactions. That hadn’t happened to him since the very first years of his vampirism. He kept tight restraint over his vampiric desires. Not to mention, the last time he’d experienced a blackout, at Johnny’s wake, which was a long story in itself, he’d ended up with an implanted fang. That fang just didn’t descend down without conscious thought on his part. Yet there it was poking his inner lip.

And frankly, he didn’t care that he was having such lack of control. He was too aroused. Too desperate to keep touching his Cupcake.

Just when he would have leaned in and kissed her again, Josie Lynn moved back from the lee of his thighs. Still dazed by his own desire, it took him a moment to realize that her attention was now on Obsidian. A smug smile curved those lips he’d just tasted.

“Hmm,” Josie Lynn said with haughtiness that rivaled the self-assurance of any lady of the court that he’d grown up with, “does that look like boredom, darling?”

“Not to me,” the big guy still seated with them said with a great measure of admiration.

“Not to me either,” Drake said, pulling Josie Lynn back to him. He had to kiss her again. And she allowed it readily. Fortunately he did have the expertise to kiss her without nicking the soft, fragile skin of her lips with his fangs.

Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to strip her naked and fill her completely. With his cock. With his fangs. He hadn’t wanted to bite a human for decades, always knowing what a slippery slope feeding from a mortal was. At the beginning of his life as vampire, he’d been insatiable. Biting anyone, everyone. He’d been dangerous. Much to his shame, he’d been deadly. But he’d gotten control of that until feeding from humans didn’t even tempt him.

Until now.

But this wasn’t just a desire to feed. This was a desire to feed from Josie Lynn. Only Josie Lynn. This was about a hunger that had nothing to do with satisfying his need for blood. This was about satisfying his need for this woman.

It was overwhelming. And this time he broke the kiss, afraid for the first time in probably a hundred years that he couldn’t keep his lust in check.

Josie Lynn swayed slightly in his hold, her lips parted and glistening from their kiss.

It was Drake’s turn to feel smug. Oh yeah, Miss Josie Lynn was definitely affected by him. Very affected.

“Please just get a damn room,” Obsidian said, picking up her martini and leaving the room.

“You really rub that one the wrong way,” the big guy said. “But then she never handles not getting what she wants very well.”

Drake tried to sort out his scrambled, desirous thoughts. Not easy with Josie Lynn still positioned between his legs. She seemed to be having the same difficulty, because she blinked a few times, then moved back to her barstool.

With a little distance between them, his thoughts cleared a little. “What—what does she do if she doesn’t get her way?”

“Oh, she’s a mean one,” the man stated, all humor gone. “Zelda is a dominatrix because she finds pleasure in it, and she wants her partner to find pleasure, too. Obsidian is a domme because she likes to hurt.”

Drake glanced at Josie Lynn, who was already looking at him, and he could tell she was thinking the same thing. Maybe Obsidian was somehow involved in the events of last night.

“You probably don’t have anything to really worry about. Hell, she knows you can definitely get the best of her,” the man said, offering Josie Lynn a smile of respect. “But I do think she could be a dirty fighter. So just be aware.”

He stood then. “And you know if you ever need my help you got it. And you can always find me at the door. Speaking of which, I better clock in.”

Drake realized the man was a bouncer here. He knew the guy looked familiar. Drake had probably seen him dozens of times. After all, Drake had been working on Bourbon for years. That was oddly comforting to know a bouncer had had an eye on them last night. They’d at least been safe here. Well, Obsidian hadn’t been safe, but this guy seemed to think she’d had it coming anyway.

“Thanks.” Drake offered the man his hand. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“Marcus. And you’re with that band that plays right over at the Old Opera House, right? The Impalers?”

Drake nodded. “That’s me.”

“Dude, you are a kick-ass guitarist.”

“Thanks, Marcus. We appreciate you looking out for us last night.”

Marcus chuckled. “I didn’t need to look out for you guys. You had your own little bouncer right here.” He nodded toward Josie Lynn.

Josie Lynn smiled, but Drake could see that she wasn’t comfortable with everything that had happened. Last night or just earlier.

“Okay, have a good night.” Marcus left them.

After Marcus left, Drake glanced at Josie Lynn, who appeared very focused on her glass of wine. Yeah, she wasn’t going to want to discuss their kiss, or how fabulous it had been. In fact, he suspected she was going to attempt to act like it never happened.

As if just to validate his thoughts, she said, without looking away from her infinitely fascinating wineglass, “So maybe Obsidian is the one who put the drugs in the punch.”

Drake nodded. “She seems like she could be a likely candidate, but we should keep looking for the Chers. There’s definitely something suspicious about them. And as we discussed, it seems like they would have needed an inside person to drug the guests.”

She polished off her wine like it was shot of tequila. “Let’s keep moving then.”

Oh, she was absolutely not discussing the kiss. No way, no how.

“Okay,” he said.

* * *

KEEP MOVING. THAT
was Josie Lynn’s first instinct, just like it always was. She wanted to forge ahead and get the answers they needed. She certainly didn’t want to be making out with a Bourbon Street band guy. Talk about the king of all bad boys.

No, she had to amend that, she
did
want to be making out with a Bourbon Street band guy, and that was why she had to keep moving. Get this mystery solved and get away from him ASAP.

Hadn’t her last bad-boy boyfriend taught her enough of a lesson about why this type of man was exactly the type of man she needed to avoid? Sure, this guy would be fun for a while. But then things would go horribly wrong. He’d want to “borrow” money. He’d want a place to crash for “just a couple days.” Or he’d be seeing other women on the side. Or all of the above. Josie Lynn had experienced it all. And she wasn’t going there again. Ever.

“So should we head to your place?” she asked as she stood, reaching for a pocket she realized she didn’t have—not that it mattered, since she didn’t have any cash either. Shit, this no-money thing was a real pain in the ass.

“Don’t worry,” the bartender, a pierced and tattooed woman in her early twenties said as she brushed a shock of fuchsia hair out of her eyes. “Marcus picked up the tab on these for you.”

“That was nice,” Drake said, clearly relieved, too.

“Well you did buy all the rounds last night,” the woman said, giving them a look that stated it had been
a lot
of rounds.

“Oh right,” Drake said, not sounding nearly as worried as Josie Lynn felt. How much money had they spent last night? And did that mean they’d had their wallets—and clothes—at that point last night?
And exactly how much money did we spend,
she thought again. She didn’t have money to spare.

She didn’t have any money at all, it would appear.

Drake thanked the bartender again, then waited for Josie Lynn to lead the way.

“You first,” she said. She had no idea how they’d gotten to this back room, and frankly the combination of loud, thumping metal music, dim lighting, and winding hallways was too much for her to deal with.

And it definitely wasn’t the fact that she was so shaken by Drake’s kiss. No, not at all.

She followed him through the hallways that just seemed to lead from one bar or nook to another. The Dungeon didn’t seem like an appropriate name for this place. The Creepy, Really Loud Maze seemed like a better name to her.

The operative word being
creepy.
A cold shiver snaked up her spine, and she found herself looking behind her. She expected to see another patron—after all, it was a bar and club, but the hallway was empty.

Drake made another turn only to end up in another hallway. They passed another strange little alcove and again, Josie Lynn felt that weird shivery feeling at the back of her neck.

She looked behind her again just in time to see a flash of purple and red and black slip into the nook they’d just passed.

Obsidian.

Was she following them? The idea unnerved Josie Lynn. A lot. Marcus made it sound like the woman had a reputation for being more than a little strange. And they’d just considered the idea that she was nutty enough to drug a whole wedding party.

Josie Lynn touched Drake’s arm, and he immediately stopped.

“I think Obsidian just stepped into that alcove,” Josie Lynn said leaning close so he could hear her over the thundering industrial music. “I think she might be following us.”

“She is,” he said with full certainty.

“Did you see her, too?”

Drake shook his head, which suddenly turned to a nod. “Yeah, I did.”

Josie Lynn frowned. She hadn’t seen him looking back at any time. But maybe he had at the same time she did.

“What do we do?” she asked, truly disturbed by this weird chick.

“Ignore her. She’s no threat.”

She looked behind her again to be sure Obsidian wasn’t coming. “But Marcus made her sound pretty much like a wackadoo.”

Drake smiled. “She may be a wackadoo, but you are definitely safe with me. No worries.”

He took her hand and continued down the hallway. Josie Lynn glanced back over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she was really safe with Drake, but his strong hand around hers did make her feel better.

And once they were out of the tangle of shadowy hallways and back onto the crowded, garishly lit streets of the French Quarter, she decided she had a new appreciation for Bourbon Street. All the people made her feel safer. Although she had to admit, Drake was making her feel safe, too, and she definitely wasn’t willing to release his hand.

There was no way around it. Obsidian was weird.

“Now you understand why I was avoiding her. She’s not right,” Drake said as if he was reading Josie Lynn’s mind, and she had to admit she did understand why. She just wished she didn’t always react so strongly to his method of avoiding.

Damn, he was a good kisser.

And those thoughts, my friend, will get you neck deep into all sorts of trouble. Trouble with a naughty smile, an amazing kiss, a killer body, and sexual skills she was willing to bet would leave her a heap of cum-soaked Jell-O.

Okay, that image was kind of gross . . . but she suspected very accurate.

And one she had to forget about. But what other things could he do with that mouth?

“Are you okay?”

She frowned up at him, wondering if she’d actually said some of her thoughts aloud or something.

Oh dear God, please tell me I didn’t say that Jell-O thing aloud
.

“You’re squeezing my hand,” he explained, clearly seeing she had no idea why he’d asked.

She instantly released his hand. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. I just wish we could figure out what happened last night.”

He looked down at his now-empty hand, then back at her as if he didn’t believe her, but he said nothing more, leading her across Bourbon to the other side of the street. They walked past a bar that she recognized as the one Marcus had mentioned they played at. Instead of walking into the bar door, he took a small side one.

“You live over the bar where you work?” she said as soon as they were in the somewhat quieter stairwell.

“Crazy, huh?” he said. “But I’m rarely late for work.”

They went up a rickety flight of stairs to a door covered in peeling red paint.

“Here’s hoping Cort is here.” He turned the doorknob and the door opened, but instead of looking relieved, he stared down at the knob.

“What’s wrong?” She tried to see what had him looking so concerned.

“The door was jimmied open.” He cautiously pushed the door open and poked his head inside. He remained still.

Listening, Josie Lynn guessed, although something about his utterly motionless stance seemed like he was doing something beyond listening. Sensing seemed like a better word, even though she knew that couldn’t really be what he was doing.

“The apartment is empty,” he said after a moment.

“How can you tell?” She hadn’t heard anything either, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t hiding inside. Hell, for all they knew, there were five Chers lying in wait. Truthfully, that didn’t sound too scary, but at this point Josie Lynn wasn’t trusting anyone.

“Well, I’m not totally sure,” Drake said, sounding almost . . . guilty like he’d been caught in a lie or something. Maybe he was just trying to sound certain to comfort her. “But I think it’s safe. I’ll go in first though.”

“I certainly hope so,” she said wryly. “It’s your apartment. I know I fought a gator for you, but this one is all yours.”

He smiled. “If there’s a gator in here, I’m deferring back to you. Sorry.”

She smiled, too. “Okay. Fair enough. But everything else is yours.”

“Deal.” Drake pushed open the door without hesitation and strolled in the door. The entrance led directly into a small but tidy kitchen. The lights were on and everything looked normal.

Again, Drake walked into the hallway without any signs of hesitation. He really did seem pretty confident the place was empty.

Brave? Or foolish? Josie Lynn couldn’t decide.

The hallway was flanked by a few sets of doors, three were closed and one was open and dark. The room at the end of the hallway, which Josie Lynn could already tell was the living room even from this distance, was lit as well.