Cross the Line: A Gabriella Cross Paranormal Romance Book 2 (3 page)

Gabby pulled up to Quip’s place in the city and checked behind her one last time before hurriedly getting out and running to the door. She had texted Quip about what happened on the ride over, and he was ready with a shotgun and a mean-ass scowl.

He hurried down the steps to his apartment and met her on the sidewalk, glancing around this way and that. “Those long-tooth fuckers follow you?”

“I don’t think so,” said Gabby. “You got anyone who can take care of the Nova?”

“I’m on it. Go on, get inside.”

When they were safely upstairs in Quip’s apartment, he called someone to pick up the car and then squared on Gabby.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Better question is, why the hell you got a bullet hole in your dress, and you ain’t hurt.”

“I’m glad you’re so concerned that I almost died,” said Gabby, trying to avoid the question.

“You’re juicing again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and good goddamned thing I am. There were five of them.”

“You know what’s going to happen if you keep using,” said Quip, concerned.

Gabby knew, but she had it all under control. She didn’t know how much vampire blood she would have to ingest before she was unable to nullify vampires completely, but her power had worked just fine against the vamps on the freeway. Victor had first coaxed her to drink his blood, saying that it was the only way for them to be together, since drinking his blood would leave Gabby unable to nullify him for a time. She had been more than eager to try it, and once she got a taste, she found it intoxicating. Under the effects of vampire blood she was stronger, faster, and her senses doubled. Surprisingly, her nullifying power increased as well, as if she were fueling it with the magic of the ancient blood.

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” said Gabby, trying to act pissed enough for Quip to leave her alone. “I definitely can’t nullify vampires if I’m dead.”

“Where was the werewolf patrol?”

Gabby bit her lip guiltily. “I kind of lost them on purpose.”

Quip shook his head and gave a sigh. “That was pretty stupid. They are there for a reason.”

“I know, I know. Quit being such a fucking mother hen,” said Gabby. She went to the kitchen and took a bottle of Grey Goose from the cabinet and poured two shots. “You want a drink or are you going to keep badgering me about this?”

Quip had followed her into the kitchen and waited with crossed arms. He took the offered drink without a word and tossed it back before slapping it down on the counter. He sighed, looking more concerned than angry.

“So did you learn anything useful from them? Get any IDs?”

Gabby hadn’t thought of that. “Shit, no I didn’t.”

“That would have helped us track down whoever was responsible for the attack. My bet is Victor’s maker, whoever the hell he is.”

“You don’t think it was Chicago vamps?”

Quip shrugged. “Might have been them who was given the hit, but I doubt they were behind it. Still, it’ll help to get our hands on those IDs, if there are any. You should tell Michael about the attack. He’s got men in the department who have access to the evidence room.”

“I’ll call him later. I don’t want to deal with it right now. He’s going to be pissed that I shook his goons.” In truth, Gabby didn’t want to talk to him while she was high on vampire blood, thinking that he might be able to sense it in her voice.

“I’d planned on taking you to one of his clubs anyway. It was going to be a surprise, but I figure you should be prepared. He’ll probably be there.”

Gabby sighed. “Let’s just go somewhere else.”

“Shit girl, right now Michael’s club is just about the safest place for you. The vampires will be gunning for you now more than ever.”

“Let them come. I’ll kill every last one of the blood-sucking bastards.”

Quip shook his head but smiled. “You Crosses are all batshit crazy.”

“Thanks,” said Gabby. “Mind if I use your lipstick?”

“Girl, you gonna need more than lipstick. You’re all dirty, and you got damned grass in your hair. You look like you got gangbanged in a ditch. Take a shower. I’ll go find you something to wear.”

“Thanks Quip. Sorry I ruined your dress.”

“Don’t worry about it, the
dress
is replaceable.”

Gabby took a short shower. The vamp blood was still coursing through her veins, and she wanted nothing more than to hit the dancefloor before she exploded.

Quip found a dark red dress for her that was cut teasingly to mid-thigh, while he wore tight black leather pants and army boots with three-inch heels. His see-through shirt and small fur jerkin finished off the look.

The Nova was gone when they got outside, and they jumped in Quip’s pimped-out black Z28.

“Jesus, where’d you find this thing? My dad used to have a t-shirt about this car, and even back then it was faded.”

“Won’t be late in my Z28,” said Quip. “Buckle up. I’ll show you how this kitty purrs.”

He peeled out, leaving two thirty-foot-long black lines in the road, and headed to the club.

“Now listen up,” said Quip as they pulled up to the club. “This place ain’t your run-of-the-mill dance club. This is an Otherworld club. There’re weres, shifters, witches, wizards, and all manner of supernatural weirdos about. You think you can keep your power to yourself tonight?”

“As long as no one gives me a reason to use it, I’ll be good.”

“You won’t find any trouble here. So don’t start any. There are no vamps in this club.”

“Why are you acting like I’m some kind of loose cannon?” Gabby asked, becoming annoyed with Quip’s attitude. “When did you become such a fucking prude?”

Quip put it in park and ignored the valet attendant at the window. “Because your power is a serious one. People...Otherworlders are afraid of you. You want to climb out of that shell of yours, play with the big boys? Then you need to keep that shit under wraps.”

“Alright, sorry. Jesus, can we dance already?”

Quip nodded and got out. He tossed the keys to the attendant and then released an enchanted twenty-dollar bill folded up like a bird, which actually flew to the attendant and landed on his shoulder.

There was a line of at least fifty people outside waiting to be let in. But Quip went straight to the velvet rope as a bouncer, who was surely a weregorilla, unhooked it with a nod to them both.

Gabby was dancing before they even got through the doors. The bass thumped through the building with such intensity that she could feel it vibrating in her chest.

Quip led her past another bouncer and down a short flight of wide stairs with walls that pulsed and throbbed in different colors. Another two bouncers awaited them at the bottom of the stairs and eyed them strangely.

“Who’s your friend?” one of the goons asked Quip, blocking the way.

“Name’s Gabby Cross,” said Gabby, extending her hand.

The man leaned back away from her offered hand and looked to his buddy. Gabby could feel the magical energy about them, and she knew that they could feel her power as well.

“So?” said Quip impatiently. “You gonna let us in or just stand there looking stupid?”

“Is she who I think she is?” asked the bouncer.

“Hey,” said Gabby, waving her hands in front of him. “I’m right here. Yes, I’m
the
nullifier. You have a problem with that? I was told that this place was a were club. Well guess what, I just wasted four vamps on the way here. Thought that would get me a free drink at least.”

The lead goon suddenly touched his earpiece and glanced over his shoulder into the club. Gabby followed his gaze and saw Michael Steele standing on a balcony far away.

“Sorry for the delay. Drinks are on the house,” he said before turning to let them pass.

They had no problem getting a drink at the bar. For as they approached, those closest to them fanned out, giving them one entire section. All eyes fell on Gabby, and people whispered to each other or stood staring, some seemingly terrified by her, others intrigued.

“Two shots of vodka, top shelf,” said Gabby. When once she might have been mortified to have so much attention, now she loved it. The music played, and she reveled in the attention. The bartender quickly produced her drinks, and she tossed them back before twirling away from the bar and hitting the dance floor like a cyclone. She began dancing in the center of the clearing that everyone had made for her.

She was the only one dancing, and she didn’t care.

Skrillex thumped through the speakers, and lasers chiseled temporary patterns in her dress. She shook her long red ringlets and gyrated slowly, moving with the music. She looked up at where Michael had been and found him gone.

The crowd slowly gained their courage and began dancing around her. Soon she was just another ass shaking on the dance floor. Guys tried dancing up on her, but she maneuvered away from them, not in the mood.

A salsa number started playing, and she changed her dance accordingly. Having been a stripper, her sister Maggy had taught her all kinds of dances, saying that someday it might come in handy, especially if she needed to put herself through college. But Gabby had never had the confidence to dance naked in front of a bunch of strangers. She wondered if she could do it now, though she didn’t need the money.

Her enhanced senses caught a familiar scent among the myriad of fragrances permeating the air, and she spun in her dance to find Michael standing there in the middle of the dance floor. Gabby stopped, surprised not only by his sudden appearance, but by his dress. She had only ever seen him in a suit, and now he wore a tight-fitting dark blue silk shirt and black jeans. Blue suede shoes and a leather necklace with a metal Wolfsangel pendant finished off the look. He had shaved recently, but he was the type of man who always had a five o’clock shadow. His hair had been cropped shorter as well, and had been gelled and styled.

Piercing eyes studied her.

Gabby slowly began dancing the mambo, moving toward Michael and giving him her most alluring gaze. She danced around him, twirling and stepping in time with the music.

Michael watched her, expressionless.

Gabby noticed the other patrons half-heartedly watching the two, wondering like she was if he was going to join her.

To her delight, Michael tucked his necklace beneath his shirt and stomped a foot and clapped his hands beside his head. He reached out a hand and Gabby took it, beaming. Michael twirled her into him and caught her from behind. For a moment they paused, his sweet breath light on her neck.

Michael spun her out wide, and they danced the mambo flawlessly, to the delight of the crowd. The dancers soon joined in. The bass dropped, and everyone held their pose as the music slowly built to a crescendo. Everyone exploded into motion with the music, and Gabby laughed.

She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.

They danced to salsa music for a good half hour and left the dance floor hand in hand, both of them covered in a sweet sheen of sweat.

“What are you drinking?” Michael asked, gaining them a place at the bar with ease.

“Sex on the beach, please,” said Gabby, panting. “Make it a double.”

He ordered her a drink and got himself a Dos Equis. “When were you going to tell me about the attack on the freeway?” he asked nonchalantly and sipped his beer.

“I didn’t want to spoil the mood on the dance floor.”

“You could have called me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Michael studied her, and she felt like “vamp blood addict” was stamped on her forehead. Her heart hammered in her chest from the excursion on the dance floor, and she had no doubt that with his werewolf senses, Michael could smell evidence of the blood in her sweat.

“I’ve got the team trailing you for this very reason,” he said, releasing her from his stare and drinking his beer.

“I know. I fucked up. I’m sorry. But I got the bastards. Three vamps and two vanilla thugs.”

Michael looked her up and down knowingly. “And without a scratch.”

Gabby ignored the insinuation to her use of vamp blood and finished her drink before raising it to the bartender for another. “Quip said that you have men in the department who can tell you something of the hit men’s identities,” said Gabby, wanting to control the conversation as much as possible.

“I do. It’s being investigated,” said Michael, taking his phone out of his pocket to check it. “I’ve got to take this. Don’t leave too soon. I’ve more to talk to you about.”

“Alright, thanks for the dance,” said Gabby with a smile. She watched him go, eating up the eye candy of his ass in the tight jeans.

“You dance very well,” came a soft, seductive female voice.

Gabby turned to find a woman sitting in the seat that Michael had just left, and she wondered how she hadn’t seen her before. The blonde stood out from all the other women in the crowd, not just because of her eccentric apparel—white leather gloves that ran to her elbows, a matching white leather dress, and knee-high boots—but also because she looked like a supermodel who had jumped straight off the pages of
Vogue
.

The blonde held her hand up before the bartender, who seemed to be waiting for her next command. “Vodka, double, top shelf, and a sex on the beach for each of us,” said the woman, and the bartender hurried to comply.

“Thanks,” said Gabby.

“My name is Valentine,” she said, extending a white-gloved hand.

“You’re not afraid to touch me?” Gabby asked.

“Why, do you bite?”

“Maybe,” said Gabby, finally taking the woman’s hand.

Gabby felt something coming from Valentine, but she still was not good enough with her power to know what it was. She could have been any number of things.

The bartender brought the drinks, and Valentine put a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. She then raised her drink. “To new friends.”

Gabby smiled and tapped glasses before downing the shot.

“So, how do you know Michael?” Valentine asked.

“It’s a long story,” said Gabby, finding it strange that someone of obvious supernatural ability wasn’t afraid to touch her. “What…what are you?”

Valentine gave her a devious little smile. “I’m just a girl looking for fun.”

Gabby gave her a look of disbelief. “You’re not a were, I can tell that much.”

“No, what I am is far more interesting than a run-of-the-mill shifter. Would you like to see?”

Valentine stood from her chair, and Gabby realized how tall the woman was. She had long blonde hair and the lithe body of a Russian ballerina, along with a face made for breaking hearts.

Gabby glanced around for Quip and shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Valentine took her by the hand and led her up the stairs to the second-level wraparound balcony.

From the balcony rail one could watch the dancers below. Across from the rail sat half a dozen couches and lounge chairs. There were less than a dozen people hanging out up here, and Valentine found a sofa at the center of the arrangement for her and Gabby. She sat and patted the leather cushion next to her.

“This is a cool little spot,” said Gabby. “But it doesn’t explain what you are.”

Valentine offered her that same mischievous smile. She leaned in closer. “See how everyone is staring?”

Gabby had noticed the attention that Valentine got, not only up here but down at the bar as well. “Yeah…”

“Watch.”

Valentine motioned a woman over to her who had been sitting with a guy in his mid-twenties. Gabby watched with growing curiosity as the woman obediently walked over and bent so that Valentine might whisper in her ear. The woman’s eyes widened at the whispered words and Valentine kissed her full on the lips. When they parted, Valentine smiled at the woman and nodded.

Gabby watched, perplexed, as the woman went back to sit next to the guy across from them. They began making out, and to Gabby’s surprise, the woman unzipped his fly and went down on him right there on the couch in front of everybody.

“Oh, my, God!” Gabby laughed.

Valentine whispered something to the men beside her and then gestured for another woman to come to her. She kissed this woman as well, and she too returned to her seat and began kissing the person she had been sitting with, who just so happened to be another woman.

“How are you doing this?” Gabby asked, enthralled. The woman who Valentine had first kissed was now riding the guy on the couch. They had both stripped completely out of their clothes, and Gabby couldn’t help but stare at the erotic display.

“They cannot help themselves.”

“You’re using mind control?”

“Not exactly. I’m not doing anything, per say. You know how alcohol lowers inhibitions?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s kind of like that.”

Directly in front of Valentine and Gabby, another couple had begun to have sex on a wooden coffee table. The man took his date from behind, pulling her hair and thrusting to the rhythm of the music. Beside them, three men were caught up in the most interesting train Gabby had ever seen, and the other woman Valentine had kissed was locked in a passionate sixty-nine with her girlfriend. Their dates came up the stairs and stopped when they saw the orgy. They looked to the women and to each other like they were the luckiest men on the planet. They soon joined in.

The balcony lounge soon filled with the sounds of passion. Some of the women moaned softly, others screamed for more, saying some of the dirtiest things that Gabby had ever heard.

The room was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and the musky scent of sex.

“This is crazy,” said Gabby, becoming quite hot herself.

“Have you figured out what I am yet?” Valentine asked, taking off a glove and slowly running a fingernail up the length of Gabby’s thigh.

“Some kind of siren?” said Gabby, unable to stop her voice from shaking. Valentine’s finger sent chills through her aching body.

“Close,” said Valentine, devouring her with her eyes. “And do you know how hot it is for a person like me to meet a person like you?”