Huntress and The Alpha

10. Club X. Part 1

Quinn

“Suck it up, buttercup.” Grady grinned at me as he exited the car at Club X.

I braced myself mentally and adjusted my black dress shirt. I could hear the music inside pumping as we walked up to the front of the line. Grady spoke to the bouncer. It looked like he was part of a large motorcycle gang in LA, comprised of a variety of werecat species that worked doors and ran protection.

They ushered us in, and the werelion bouncer nodded reverently in my direction. Alphas were respected even across shifter species.

Inside was an assault on the supernatural senses. Smoke, sweat, liquor, and a hint of arousal. It all hung in the air and rolled around the red and black decor. Girls in varying stages of undress gyrated on the poles to music that was above my comfort level of loud. There were poles of varying sizes; three huge ones adorned the main stage, which looked like a runway. Booths shrouded in shadows lined the sides of the club. The poles on the main floor were surrounded by plenty of horny males who vied for the dancer’s attention. Their bills waved in the air along with their tongues.

The VIP section at the back was roped off, and more barely dressed servers serviced it. Grady looked like a kid in a candy store, with his eyes out on stalks. Mercifully, we made it to our booth without incident. Many eyes had tracked our movements. None of us were under 6foot 2inches, and some might have recognized me. This was the unfortunate consequence of my status in the human world.

The girl that led us to our booth had painted on tiny black shorts and a dangerously low-cut red top which caused Grady to stumble along in her wake. The booth was set slightly higher than the main floor and had a good view of the club around us. Grady, Duncan, and Grady’s cousin Dean settled in around me.

“Hello, gentleman, my name is Destiny, and I will be your server tonight. What can I get for you?”

I seriously doubted that was the name given to her at birth. Her chestnut hair was pulled up into a ponytail and had a single contact to mimic heterochromia. Her contact-clad eye was a vivid blue, and the other her more natural brown. In a job like this, vying with naked pole dancers for tips, she needed all the mystic and edge she could get.

“We’ll take two pitchers of beer and twenty-four shots, beautiful. It’s my birthday.” Grady leaned over and winked at her.

“Happy birthday, Sir. I’ll bring your drinks right back.” Destiny gave a tight smile and courteous nod then walked off to the bar.

“Oh, burn!” said Dean. “Maybe it is just the beta position the she-wolves are after. The mighty Grady’s going zero for one with the human chicks tonight. It looks like you’re going to have to get your cash out to get one.” He roared with laughter at Grady’s face, and Duncan snorted.

Grady grunted, scowling and unhappy that he would not get any special birthday treatment from the server.

Dean leaned forward over the table and indicated we should crowd in. “So anyway, I heard vamps have brought this place.” He whisper-shouted to us.

Oh, hell no! He didn’t think to mention that in the car. The strip club was upmarket, given the drinks prices and guest list operation, but I’d have gone to a dive to avoid vamps.

“What? And you didn’t think to mention this on the way?” I said, agitation filling my body.

“This just gets better, uninterested servers and f*****g bloodsuckers,” said Grady. He swiveled around, trying to scope out any undead amongst the patrons.

Vampire-owned businesses were often filled with vamps. Wolves at vamp-owned places were asking for trouble with a capital ‘T’. We didn’t mix well. There was a disturbing rise in vamp-owned clubs and bars. The word was there was a mob boss who had been turned and who ran various legal and illegal businesses locally.

Whoever had the idea of turning a human mob boss into a vampire had to be out of their damn minds. Vampires were sly, soulless bastards at the best of times. Pureblood vamps were rare these days. Turned humans weren’t uncommon. The Hunter Council monitored numbers and activities. I’d wager half their work was vamps.

“Who told you?” Duncan asked.

“Word on the street,” Dean said, looking supremely proud of himself.

His pride was misplaced, as we needed that information before we paid the cover charge. Dean hung around with some less savory supernaturals, which worked well for information, but not this time.

Destiny and her mismatched eyes brought our tray of drinks. We fell silent and allowed her to arrange the drinks until she was back out of earshot.

Duncan sat back with a beer. “It won’t be long till it draws the Hunter Council’s attention if it hasn’t already.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see the legendary Huntress in action tonight, taking out some vamps.” Grady rubbed his hands together and downed a few shots of sambuca. He had a thing for that female hunter.

“f**k sake, cuz, you sound like a fanboy, that p***y is deadly. No one knows what she looks like, for sure. She could be ugly as sin.” Dean shook his head

“Seriously, we don’t want to be anywhere near that s**t, regardless of whom the Hunter Council sends,” said Duncan.

“They call her Pulchra Morte. It means beautiful death, so she’s got to be a looker. I’d take my chances.” Grady grinned, undeterred.

The Huntress was an urban legend in supernatural circles. Allegedly, she was the council’s best hunter, and stories of her kills were legendary. Some of it sounded like a bit of bull, meant to keep supernaturals in line, like the bogyman. ‘Don’t step out of line, else she’ll come for you.’ She had been around at least ten years if stories and rumors were to be believed.

Duncan snorted at Grady’s comment. “Your ass would be dead before you could get a good look at her!”

“You know nothing of my powers of seduction,” Grady smirked as he swigged back a beer.

“Would a wild ride be worth getting killed over?” Duncan rolled his eyes at Grady’s horny-teenager behavior.

“Why would she kill me? Eh? Fine upstanding beta like myself. I’d just be helping her blow off some steam after taking out some vampire scum.” Grady leaned back in the booth and scanned the room as if she might be here, listening to his offer.

A ghost of irritation slid over me.

“They also call her the black widow,” said Dean, “and you know what happens to male spiders after they mate.” He drew his finger across his throat, and Duncan barked out a laugh.

Grady frowned. We’d pissed on his fantasy parade. He downed a few shots and stood up. “Well, gentlemen, as much as I enjoy your company, it’s time for my birthday treat.” He took off, presumably searching for a dancer to take to one of the private rooms upstairs.

“It’s only a matter of time till he catches something nasty.” Duncan eyed his retreating form across the club.

“I’ll ask Doc Jones if she’s got a big-ass needle for his penicillin shot.” I laughed.

It was short-lived. The brief banter and humor were gone in a flash, replaced with an agitated on-edge feeling.

My wolf bristled in my mind, and his anxiety rushed over me.

“You okay, Quinn?” Duncan asked, noting my change of mood.

“Not sure. My wolf’s not happy, and he’s pacing about. It has been there a bit since we arrived. I’d chalked it up to the bloodsuckers, but I’m not so sure now. The beer has done nothing to settle him either.”

While wolves struggled to get drunk, we could catch a buzz for a short time. A little alcohol often had a calming effect on my wolf.

“Hey man, don’t worry about the dead ones tonight, and go get yourself some live p***y! There’s plenty about.” Dean nudged me.

He had already consumed half the shots and appeared to now be taking it upon himself to take up Grady’s smut mantle.

“You sound like Grady,” Duncan said, derision in his tone, but his eyes were still on me.

One of the many things I liked about Duncan was his ability to read situations and take things seriously. Sometimes a bit too serious, even so, his vigilance had helped us out more than once.

“Hey, I’m not as bad as him!” Dean slurred.

Shit, how many shots had he had?

“Though, when it’s all up on display, it’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet.” He gestured out to the club. “I can’t help but comment.”

“Like shooting fish in a barrel in here, Dean, not my style.” I tried to keep the irritation from my tone.

He was grating on my nerves. My wolf was acting like a caged beast now. There was a buzz at the back of my head, and it took all my control to remain passive.

“Listen, I’m going to have a walk around, get a proper drink. I’ll check on Grady. It’s probably just the talk about vamps that’s got my wolf pacing about. You two wait here in case he comes back to the table. I’ll mind-link you if there’s anything.”

“Alpha, do you want me to come with you?” Duncan sprung to his feet.

“No, stay here, keep an eye on Dean, and wait for Grady.” I walked away from the booth, and my wolf howled.

“What the f**k is wrong with you?”

I received no reply, and the howling ceased. Instead, he tossed his head back and huffed.

I took the long way around to scope out the place for vamps. Our booth had a good view, but the club was designed to create dark nooks.

“Hey, handsome, you want a dance?” A long slender finger descended onto the center of my chest as a brunette stopped me.

She wore a diamond-covered bikini top that barely covered her n*****s and a tiny, beaded skirt that just covered the rest of her goods. She was wearing sky-high heels but still only came up to the top of my chest on my 6ft 4in frame. I was more of a blonde man and certainly not interested in a dance at the moment.

“I could do the first ten minutes for free, given how gorgeous you are,” she pressed on in a throaty, seductive voice.

I was used to women throwing themselves at me. I knew I was good-looking by human standards, and many of them knew me already as a wealthy bachelor thanks to the human press. This dancer was used to dancing for rich men. I’m sure the fact that I wasn’t as potbellied as many of her clients helped.

“No, thank you.” I removed her finger from my chest and smiled a polite smile. “Not tonight.” I side-stepped her and continued my way to the bar.

As I crossed the club, I spotted a vamp. He was standing back in the shadows. It was almost as if his darkness was adding to the density of the shadow there. I wouldn’t have seen him if it weren’t for my keen vision. I suspected the humans that passed by didn’t see him at all.

Vampires were scentless, their human scent died with them. I strained to pick up more details from the almost impenetrable darkness he stood in. His dark hair was gelled back, and his eyes glittered like tiny black jewels. It was difficult to pick out his entire outfit, aside from a collar of a garish shirt. A few buttons were open at the top to reveal a dusting of chest hair and multiple gold necklaces.

He might hide in the shadows, but they hadn’t disguised his awful fashion sense. It was a very eighties, low-level mobster vibe. He could audition for a part in Hollywood. I decided he must be one of the turned human mobsters Dean spoke of. It struck me again how stupid it was to turn criminals into the undead.

I skirted some tables and a few more hungry-looking dancers and made it to a stool at the opposite end of the bar to him.

I attempted to mind link Grady, but he’d put a block up. Great!

“Duncan, there’s a vamp here lurking in the shadows. I’m going to monitor him from the bar until Grady’s back with us on the link.”

“Sure, I tried to link him too, but he told me to ‘f**k off, as he was busy’ and shut the connection.”

I didn’t like this. It split us up. Grady’s link was down, and there was at least one vamp in the bar. My wolf was still going mad about something that didn’t seem related to the vamp. Maybe there were more vamps? It might be Grady’s birthday, but everything felt wrong, and I wanted to get us out of here. Perhaps I should go and haul him out of his private dance right now.

“No! We must stay,” said my wolf.

“Why?” I asked, exasperated.

A movement from the center of the club caught in my peripheral vision. My eyes landed on a blonde dressed in a flowing white dress. She looked so ethereal and out of place against the backdrop of black and red. I doubted many people ever wore white in this place.

Had someone dropped her directly into the club from heaven? Where had that thought come from?

She rushed and stumbled; the movement looked at odds with her graceful limbs. She had long tan legs and wore flat pumps, the dress she wore floated above her knee and was cinched below her chest. The neckline of the dress barely restrained her breasts. Her facial profile was classically beautiful; red and rosy, full lips, high cheekbones, and a narrow nose. Perfectly proportioned. I couldn’t see her eyes, just the thick, sooty lashes. Her blonde hair was long, tumbling free over her shoulders and down her back. She looked human, and something swooped low in my stomach.

Goddess, she was beautiful!

The vampire shifted, and he moved forward from his cloak of shadows and tracked her movement.

Shit.

My wolf growled, and the sound escaped me. It was lucky the music was loud else someone would have heard it.

“Protect her.” An alpha command from my wolf. He stood alert, like a dog on point.

As an alpha, I had a strong protective streak for my pack, and I would always help a woman in distress. That was how I ended up recruiting our pack doctor and witch, after all. I couldn’t stand to see a woman hurt. Of course, I sparred with female warriors and fought aggressive female rogues before, but in general, I was against violence toward women. This feeling, though, was much stronger.

My wolf growled again. I realized, to my chagrin, that she had moved more swiftly than I expected. My gaze searched wildly. I caught a flash of white disappearing behind a door at the very back of the club. The vamp had moved too, and I realized, to my horror, he was right behind her. I surged forward and picked up a scent so foreign it made me stop in my tracks.

DISTRESSED

That’s what it smelled of, or was that what it made me think? How can anything smell of distress? Fear, yes, anger, yes, but distressed? And a hint of lavender?

“The scent is masked,” said my wolf.

“With distress?”

“It’s a fake scent.”

How did he know?

“Go protect her!” My wolf reminded me I was standing here like a fool.