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Authors: Winter Pennington
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"It looks like they're in a hurry to get somewhere." I had to raise my voice over the music.
"I'm not going to play leap frog," Rupert said.
"Then don't." I watched as the Cavalier cut another car off, in a hurry to change lanes.
"I don't think they're on to us," I said lightly.
Rupert's gaze remained intently on the road ahead. "I don't either."
I leaned back in my seat, keeping my eyes on the car ahead and listening to the music to keep my mind from racing.
We followed the car downtown using other cars as cover. It didn't surprise me how busy it was.
Downtown was Oklahoma City's pride and joy. It was party central. The food was hellaciously over priced, and the booze flowed steadily. By the end of the night, half of the population was wasted and broke. It was so not my forte. The car turned into a small parking lot next to an old building. It looked like it had once been a hotel, but it was obvious that wasn't what it was now. I blinked, gazing at the red and white sign that blazed brighter than the streetlights: THE TWO
POINTS.
"That's cryptic," I said, grateful I'd turned the music off before reaching the city. I was no longer in the mood to raise my voice. "What is it?" I asked. "I get this feeling that The Two Points doesn't refer to natural land forms. . . "
Rupert found a parking spot and waited for an SUV to pull in next to us. I had to turn in my seat to see the entrance and the line of people gathering outside. A man stood just outside the doors.
From this distance I wasn't able to see his face, but I could make out the swell of chest under his crossed arms. A woman walked up to him, dressed entirely in black and red Goth chic. The man next to her wore a black suit, complete with tails and a top hat. The bouncer nodded at the couple, pulling aside the rope and allowing them to go through. I looked at Rupert, still waiting for an answer. I was coming up with my own conclusion, and it wasn't a conclusion I liked.
"Don't tell me this is the Vamp Club." I made it a statement.
"Then I won't say anything." He unbuckled his seat belt.
"Morrigan's curse take it," I hissed. "If Rosalin is in league with the city's vampires, we are going to be sorely outnumbered."
"Only if we make a direct attack," Rupert said. "We'll go in and pretend we're having a merry time, but keep your eyes peeled."
There was a reason I liked hunting with Rupert. When I couldn't come up with a good idea, he always had one. It worked both ways, and we both found the faults and leaks in one another's plans. Neither of us took it personally; instead, we took it constructively. In fact, most of my training wasn't thanks to Jake, the paranormal hunter who'd helped me get my certification-it was thanks to Rupert.
Which is why I said, "We look like assassins, not Goths. I don't think that will work."
"Then do something to look more Goth." He drew a blade from his boot. "Hand the duffel bag to me." I reached behind my seat and tossed the bag to him. He opened a side compartment and pulled out a plain black T-shirt. He cut the sleeves off and drew the knife down the length of the neck to leave a long slit in it.
I looked at the line leading to the entrance of the club. It was slowly beginning to shorten, but there were still going to be about ten or so others in front of us. Something soft hit the side of my face and I looked down.
I held the material up. "You're kidding," I said and looked at Rupert. He was now wearing the torn shirt. It was skintight and torn in all the places that would catch a straight woman's eye, but more importantly, a vampire's. The cut-off sleeves showed the muscles in his arms, and there were three cuts running across his chest and stomach. I'd never again doubt that Rupert worked out. He'd cut the neck of the shirt to show the line of his collarbone, and the pulse beating steadily in his throat.
"Classy," I said. "You'll definitely distract someone tonight, but whether it's heterosexual Goth chicks,
"It looks like they're in a hurry to get somewhere." I had to raise my voice over the music.
"I'm not going to play leap frog," Rupert said.
"Then don't." I watched as the Cavalier cut another car off, in a hurry to change lanes.
"I don't think they're on to us," I said lightly.
Rupert's gaze remained intently on the road ahead. "I don't either."
I leaned back in my seat, keeping my eyes on the car ahead and listening to the music to keep my mind from racing.
We followed the car downtown using other cars as cover. It didn't surprise me how busy it was.
Downtown was Oklahoma City's pride and joy. It was party central. The food was hellaciously over priced, and the booze flowed steadily. By the end of the night, half of the population was wasted and broke. It was so not my forte. The car turned into a small parking lot next to an old building. It looked like it had once been a hotel, but it was obvious that wasn't what it was now. I blinked, gazing at the red and white sign that blazed brighter than the streetlights: THE TWO
POINTS.
"That's cryptic," I said, grateful I'd turned the music off before reaching the city. I was no longer in the mood to raise my voice. "What is it?" I asked. "I get this feeling that The Two Points doesn't refer to natural land forms. . . "
Rupert found a parking spot and waited for an SUV to pull in next to us. I had to turn in my seat to see the entrance and the line of people gathering outside. A man stood just outside the doors.
From this distance I wasn't able to see his face, but I could make out the swell of chest under his crossed arms. A woman walked up to him, dressed entirely in black and red Goth chic. The man next to her wore a black suit, complete with tails and a top hat. The bouncer nodded at the couple, pulling aside the rope and allowing them to go through. I looked at Rupert, still waiting for an answer. I was coming up with my own conclusion, and it wasn't a conclusion I liked.
"Don't tell me this is the Vamp Club." I made it a statement.
"Then I won't say anything." He unbuckled his seat belt.
"Morrigan's curse take it," I hissed. "If Rosalin is in league with the city's vampires, we are going to be sorely outnumbered."
"Only if we make a direct attack," Rupert said. "We'll go in and pretend we're having a merry time, but keep your eyes peeled."
There was a reason I liked hunting with Rupert. When I couldn't come up with a good idea, he always had one. It worked both ways, and we both found the faults and leaks in one another's plans. Neither of us took it personally; instead, we took it constructively. In fact, most of my training wasn't thanks to Jake, the paranormal hunter who'd helped me get my certification-it was thanks to Rupert.
Which is why I said, "We look like assassins, not Goths. I don't think that will work."
"Then do something to look more Goth." He drew a blade from his boot. "Hand the duffel bag to me." I reached behind my seat and tossed the bag to him. He opened a side compartment and pulled out a plain black T-shirt. He cut the sleeves off and drew the knife down the length of the neck to leave a long slit in it.
I looked at the line leading to the entrance of the club. It was slowly beginning to shorten, but there were still going to be about ten or so others in front of us. Something soft hit the side of my face and I looked down.
I held the material up. "You're kidding," I said and looked at Rupert. He was now wearing the torn shirt. It was skintight and torn in all the places that would catch a straight woman's eye, but more importantly, a vampire's. The cut-off sleeves showed the muscles in his arms, and there were three cuts running across his chest and stomach. I'd never again doubt that Rupert worked out. He'd cut the neck of the shirt to show the line of his collarbone, and the pulse beating steadily in his throat.
"Classy," I said. "You'll definitely distract someone tonight, but whether it's heterosexual Goth chicks,
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