Into the Light (The Admiral's Elite Book 2) (21 page)

Not for long. Wedged between them for a third time, their nails and legs now firmly dug in and clamped around him respectively, Michael was faced with the decision of finishing the dance and biding his time for a less visible escape or making a scene by throwing the girls off of his body, which is what it would have taken with the grip the one had. “Just one dance.” He shouted in their ears but straightened up before either could land the kiss they’d both been aiming at him.

Instead of getting him they were left inches from each other and, once again, their lips were on each other. The blonde’s mouth ran down her friend’s long neck, a hand reached out to push her hair out of the way as she let her tongue flick under her throat.

I want to taste them.
The vampire was panting for the sex and blood it knew it could get from these two. Michael’s body was dangerously close to reacting on its own and he pulled his mind back, forcing his eyes to scan the others on the floor around them. It struck him there was no one watching them. And why would they? As he looked closer, he could see that there were couples openly groping each other. One man had pulled his partner’s scoop necked top down low enough to allow himself free access to her breasts, which he was partaking in, one each in mouth and hand. A hand slid down the front of Michael’s jeans, forcing his focus back to his dance partners growing more aggressive by the second.

She cooed as she grasped his semi-erect shaft and began to stroke. “Ooh honey, you’re going to be so fun.” Her chest bowed into his and she rubbed her nipples on him again when she felt his body’s willingness. Her other hand grabbed his ass and pressed him against her with no room for air.

Reaching in front of himself he removed the blonde’s hand, using too much force to play off as casual. “We’re not going there tonight.” A hint of iron crept into his voice. Somehow he doubted his concerns for making a scene were all that valid anymore. Testing his theory, he trapped both the brunette’s hands in one of his and put a hand on the blonde’s chest. The blonde’s eyes sparked, thinking he was going to be taking his liberties with her. Only he didn’t. Taking care not to shove too hard, he pushed both away and stepped back. The girls pouted for only a brief moment before setting their sights on a young African American dancing with his back to them. For some reason he was shirtless and the blonde put a hand on his back, sliding it up and over his shoulder, turning him to face her. Her friend was close behind and the last Michael saw, the man’s head was thrown back and happy tongues were exploring the ecstatic man’s chest. He’d seen enough of what was out there and wove his way back, pondering the possibility that there was something in the music or the drinks causing the sex party behind him. The flames under his flesh were not so easily shoved aside. He had a fleeting vision of what would happen if he could get Becca in a dark hallway. It wouldn’t take him long at this point.

“Look man, all I was doing was trying to make conversation.” Ryan was standing at the bar, toe to toe, arguing with a guy a full head shorter as Michael approached. “You don’t need to be an asshole about it.”

The normal sized human stuck a finger in the middle of the doublewide chest in front of him and shouted up. “I saw you, dick, you were sticking your tongue in her ear.”

That was when Michael noticed the leggy dark-haired woman standing in high heels and micro skirt behind the soon to be flattened man defending her honor. Her eyes were on Ryan, not her boyfriend, and the look she was pointing his way was anything but contrite. She looked like she wanted to push her knight in tiny armor aside and dangle from one of those giant arms hanging less than loose at Ryan’s sides.

“My tongue?” Ryan laughed and rolled his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s loud. I was
talking
in her ear, not fucking it, you moron.” Several onlookers were shifting back, giving the two men space. They could sense the oncoming storm.

“Fuck you!” the little wordsmith shouted and took a swing.

Faster by far, Ryan caught the fist easily in one of his and squeezed until his adversary’s eyes bulged in pain and he fell to his knees. His hand shook from the effort it was taking not to crush the man’s appendage.

Just as fast, Michael was at his friend’s side before the man’s knees hit the ground. Speaking softly enough no one else could hear, he cautioned him, “Time for us to leave.”

Ryan turned his head and Michael could see the wolf fighting to get out behind his vibrant green eyes. “I got this,” he growled around clenched teeth.

Michael didn’t touch him. He only shifted so that his back was to the crouching man and he faced Ryan head on. Cautioning him again, “We both know you can snap him in half and it would be fun, but we don’t have time and it’d just piss off the locals. We’re here for something bigger. Save it for whatever’s doing this to Gabs.”

Relieved, Michael watched the green cool to the soft color Ryan sported when he was human.

Twitching his generous mouth into its typical grin, he gave his superior a nod. “We can’t be pissing off the locals. You’ve already done enough of that for one day.”

Michael felt his sexual tension threatening to spill over into violence and quickly reeled it in. No one would benefit if both of them lost it in there. The carnage would be hard to clean off his hands and his conscience. That hadn’t been him for a long time.

“We’re done here, shitbird.” Ryan released his hand, then, leaning in, he cautioned the man still cringing on his knees and clutching his tender fist to his chest. “In the future, you might want to make sure you know who’s trying to fuck who before you start making accusations.” When the smaller man furiously made as if to rise, Ryan let a huge hand cover his shoulder. Losing all humor, his eyes narrowed. “I’m serious, man. If a chick’s gonna step out, she ain’t worth getting your face broken over.”

That took the last of the fight out of the defeated man and he made no move to follow when Ryan turned his back and walked toward the entrance with Michael. Michael was watching the bigger man, wondering how much of his advice was self-reflective.

“Have you seen Becca?” Crisis averted, he was scanning the crowd.

Several inches taller, Ryan craned his neck in the dimly lit bar area then shook his head, frowning. “No.” A deep furrow creased his forehead. “I haven’t seen her since we split up. You?”

Growing concerned, Michael gave a quick shake of his head. “I was out there.” He tipped his head absently out toward the strobe lit sex party, not breaking from his visual search of the crowd around him. “Maybe she stepped outside. It’s pretty loud in here.” They exchanged a look. Ryan knew Becca was having trouble with the temporary sensitivity and this was definitely not the place to be if one was easily overwhelmed.

Ryan glanced over at the gyrating forms in the distance, and took a longer second look. “Shit man, you were out in
that
?” He continued staring, running a tongue over his lower lip. “I got the raw end of this one.” Then, lowering his head, he sniffed, stopped, and sniffed again. “Holy shit, Mike. What’d you do out there? I smell at least two of them on you.” 

“Can we worry about finding Becca, not about watching a live porn shoot?” Michael growled, irritated. “All these bodies are making it hard to smell her.”

With a grimace, Ryan tore his gaze from the hot mess he was having
no
trouble smelling and let his gaze settle on Michael. The man’s growing panic was easy to discern and Ryan quickly redoubled his efforts at locating their missing member. “Sorry Mike, she ain’t here.”

There was a minor tingle he barely felt anymore and the faint taste of iron as his fangs slid out. The vampire was willing to accept blood if sex was off the table.
It would be so easy to take one in here. No one would notice.
“This place is about to blow, we need to find her.”

“We’ll find her, Mike.” Ryan tried to ease his mind, patting his shoulder as he did so. His eyes continued fruitlessly to scan the crowded club.

Michael’s assessment was accurate and he wasn’t the only one who had noticed. The man who’d greeted them at the front door rushed past them toward the bar. Both men followed him with their eyes and strained to hear.

“No more drinks, we’re shutting the place down for the night. This is crazy,” the must-be manager leaned over and yelled after beckoning the bartender over. “A guy just told me people are having actual sex on the dance floor.” His voice went shrill and he lifted himself up on his hands on the edge of the bar, scanning the mass for evidence. “I called the cops, they’re already on their way. Let’s hope we can avoid a full blown riot.”

The bartender braced his hands on the wooden surface between them and shouted back. “I got some seriously pissed off customers already, you cut ‘em off and they’re gonna start something. You sure you want to do that? Remember what happened last time.”

The frazzled manager ran a hand over his chin and scanned the immediate area. Sure enough, several humans were as uptight as the little man who’d challenged Ryan. One was coming close to trading blows with another guy at a high top table near the far end of the bar. Blinking, he tightened his lips and nodded. “Fine, we’ll serve them until the cops get here.” He shook his head. “I got an ambulance already on the way.” He threw out a harsh coughing laugh. “That’ll be about every emergency vehicle we’ve got in this town.”

“Why’s a medic coming? Did I miss a fight?” The bartender glanced around as if he might see someone bleeding in the middle of the floor.

On second thought, Michael snorted, that wasn’t such a far-fetched idea. Then, all of his attention zeroed in on the manager at the next thing he said.

“No, that girl that collapsed earlier. Over by the hall.” He jerked a thumb at the last place Michael had seen Becca. “She went down and couldn’t tell me who she was with or her name so I called 911. I’m thinking there’s a batch of bad drugs going around or something.” He forced another laugh. “We’ve got a few days before the full moon, don’t we?”

Ryan fell in step behind Michael as he took off. In seconds, he had the manager spun around and tossed up against the bar.

“What the hell?” the bartender started to argue.

Ryan intervened, catching him by the shirt. “Leave it. My buddy has a few questions is all, everything’s cool.”

Seeing the folly in continuing to disagree, the bartender chose to listen to the large Marine’s sage advice. Retreating into the safety of the bar, out of arm’s reach, he cast a few more worried glances at Ryan before filling the orders of several eager patrons.

Unaffected, Michael was in the manager’s face and wasted no time in pulling him under his influence. With the police on their way they couldn’t be caught in here. It would be a mess and give Salvo even more reason to throw roadblocks in their way. He couldn’t stop them from being here but a few disturbing the peace charges would slow them down and annoy Black. Plus, this was Becca and Michael and his vampire were both intent upon getting her back. Neither would stop until she was safely back in his care.

The manager’s hopping, sketchy mind took a few extra seconds to reel in but Michael had done this before under far more stressful circumstances. Grabbing the man by the back of his neck, he brought his face directly in front of his. As soon as his eyes swept past Michael’s, the vampire drew them in and the human was his.

“Where is the woman you were talking about? The one who collapsed?” he commanded him to answer.

Serenely, the manager pointed to the red wall beyond the hostess station. “I put her in the front office.”

Dropping him, Michael took off with Ryan close behind. The hostesses screeched at the sight of the two men rushing past them almost too fast to register and burst through the door painted to match the black wall, marked only by the silver handle.

Inside, Michael’s wild eyes scanned the closet-sized room before they settled on Becca, bent in half in a black fabric chair next to a metal and black desk. Two metal chairs lined the far wall completing the list of furnishings. A framed poster reciting, “The Customer is Always Right” sat overlarge behind the desk.

None of that mattered when Michael saw her. Ignoring the roaring in his ears, he rushed to her and was already tuned in to her heart rate and breathing before he had his hands on her body. Her pulse was erratic and her eyelids fluttered, giving occasional glimpses of whites telling him her eyes were rolled back in her head. Pain raced through his silent heart and he crouched down in front of her, gently laying a hand aside her face and turning it toward his.