Natural Consequences (24 page)

The security guard raised an eyebrow when Wade reached into the garbage can beside him and pulled out a
n empty red Solo cup, but saw no reason to stop him. Anyone outside the event was simply not security’s problem.

Wade’s odd behavior, though, was something of a concern for Drew. “The hell are you doing?” he asked. He kept walking, trying to keep an eye on the guy in the black ninja outfit ahead of them. Neither he nor Wade wanted their quarry to be out of sight for long, but they simply couldn’t catch up before the ninja rounded the corner into the garage without looking suspicious.

“Just fixin’ a drink,” Wade shrugged. As he walked, he slipped his hand down his pants and pulled out a silver flask.

“…the fuck?” Drew blinked.

Wade smoothly spun the cap and opened the flask and upended it into the cup. “Y’know how it is. Can’t always be sure th’ bars at a thing like this will have what you want.”

“Of what?”

“Everclear,” Wade muttered. “Hadda drive all’a way ta Portland for it.”

“You’ve been carrying around a flask in your junk all night?”

“Naw, it’s only been by my junk t’ get in and out of the party,” Wade corrected. “I ain’t some pervert, y’know.”

Drew wanted to pursue his line of questioning, but
lacked the time. The ninja had already made it around a corner. He and Wade picked up the pace. “So what the hell do we say to this guy?”

“Reckon ah got an idea,” Wade grunted. “Follow mah lead.”

Drew nodded. He glanced at the windows to either side before they hit the corner, and caught sight of a new concern in the reflection behind them. “Shit,” he murmured. “Spider-Man at six o’clock. Now I
know
somethin’s up.”

They had already turned into the parking garage. “Y’all wanna back off?”

It was an honest question. “Might be a good idea.”

As he spoke, though, they both realized it was too late. The ninja stood beside a black van, facing them with his arms folded across his chest.
Only once within conversational distance did the two see the pair of small teardrop tattoos beside the ninja’s left eye.

He wasn’t alone. Two of his companions wore normal street clothes—baggy jeans, untucked shirts and blue bandanas. The third, though, looked quite out of
place if only by virtue of his markedly pale complexion and his sharp, authentic blue zoot suit.

“You got a problem,
homes?” asked the ninja.

Wade blinked. “Ah’m sorry? Problem?”

“You been followin’ me,” the ninja pressed, tilting his head toward the hotel bridge. “I’m not a fuckin’ moron.”

“
Well, yeah, but that ain’t ‘cause we got a problem,” Wade shook his head, holding his hands up—one still holding his drink—in a show of innocence.

Drew, too, shook his head, following Wade’s lead. It wasn’t the first time; all through high school, Wade had always been the guy to come up with the quick plans. Though he was quite used to making decisions on his own, Drew had complete faith in his friend, and he knew how to be part of a team.

He also knew an ugly situation when it stared him in the face like these guys did. As he glanced around, knowing exactly what to look for, he found that the reflections in the car windows and windshields around them failed to show the guy in the zoot suit. He hoped Wade would notice, too.

“So you are following me,” the ninja said. His friends stepped to his left, forming an arc around Wade and Drew. The pale one in the zoot suit stayed beside the ninja. Drew stayed on Wade’s right, standing between
his friend and the two guys in common street clothes.

“
Yeah, we followed y’all out here, but it ain’t like we’re
followin’
ya,” Wade smiled, shaking a little to be sure the sarcasm could be read in his emphasis. “Nah, ‘s just that ah saw y’all takin’ pictures in the direction of mah friends and I earlier, an’ ah wanted t’ know if’n ah could get y’all t’ forward ‘em to me.”

The ninja blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You know! The pretty devil lady an’ the pretty angel.”

“Right, those bitches,” the ninja said. He looked to the one in the zoot suit and gave a deep nod.

“Ladies,” Drew and Wade corrected simultaneously.

Conversation halted for a beat, and then the strangers snorted and chuckled. “Why’s that funny?” asked Drew.

“What, they got you whipped,
punto
?” asked one of the guys in bandanas.

Drew eyed him coldly. “That’s not a nice thing to say
.”

“But you do know them?” asked the one in the zoot suit. “And their friends?”

“They were all at a table together,” answered the ninja.

“Why,
is that a thing?” asked Wade. “I’m sure we could introduce you if you wanted to come inside.”

“No, no, we aren’t interested in that,” said the zoot
-suited man. His voice was smoother and calmer than the others, and his enunciation came out slightly thicker than that of his companions. Wade chalked it up to the man’s large canines. His theory was confirmed as the man offered the slightest of smiles and said, “We’d like to meet them, though. Lorelei and Alex Carlisle, right? You should tell us about them. Maybe go for a ride with us.”

“Aw, now, Momma taught me not to get into big white vans with strange men like you,” Wade demurred.

“We aren’t asking,“ the zoot suit said. He gestured to his companions, who all either went for weapons or reached out to grab the two younger men, but Wade and Drew were both ready for it. The zoot suited man caught a faceful of Wade’s drink.

Drew read his opponents fast enough to pick his first shots well. The guy closest to him jerked his shirt up to grab at the gun in his waistband. Drew’s foot launched out just as the thug’s hand came to the weapon. His kick connected with a loud “Bang!” and a
burst of blood out to one side.

Drew didn’t stop to assess; before his foot was back on the ground, his left arm swept out to clock the other thug in the face with the back of his fist. Screaming, Drew’s first victim crumpled and slammed his head on the concrete floor.

Years of practice took over. Drew kept turning, his kicking foot now down on the ground allowing him to bring the other one up and around at the ninja. He only caught his opponent in the thigh, but contact was better than nothing. He hoped he and Wade could whittle the group down quickly. He remembered his last brawl with a vampire all too well to look forward to this one.

His companion
had enough problems. It wasn’t as if the drink had hurt his victim, who turned out to have strength to match his shocking speed. In the space between heartbeats, the man in the zoot suit had one hand around Wade’s throat and then hoisted him in the air. He slammed Wade roughly into the side of the van. “Throwin’ a drink in my face?” he snarled, his fangs now showing quite prominently.

Wade brought one hand up to grab at the vampire’s wrist and try to relieve some of the stress on his neck. It also served to obstruct the view of his other hand, which came out of Wade’s pocket to rest on his assailant’s shoulder.

“What kinda
bitch
does that?” demanded the vampire.

He didn’t hear
the metallic clink of the Zippo, but it hardly mattered. The Everclear coating the vampire’s face and neck caught fire instantly. He shrieked and flailed, throwing Wade away without a second thought. Wade fell across the shoulders of the guy in the ninja costume, bringing both tumbling to the pavement.

As Wade expected, the brief flash of burning alcohol was enough to
set the vampire’s flesh alight. Panicked, the vampire turned, ran straight into the side of a parked car and bounced off as he tried in vain to pat his flames out.

“Shit! Arturo!” blurted the ninja. He scrambled up off the concrete, only to have Wade grab one foot and shin and then twist hard. He fell face-first onto the concrete and then felt the brutal force of Wade’s foot as it shot up between his legs into his groin.

After a brief struggle with Drew, the last standing thug lost control of his firearm before he’d ever gotten his finger to the trigger. The pistol clattered to the floor. Rather than dive for it, he put a fierce right cross into Drew’s face. He followed up with a pair of shots to Drew’s midsection, but then hesitated to assess the situations of his comrades. It was all Drew needed; his elbow came up at the thug’s nose, crushing it instantly. “Aw, fuck!” the thug grunted, staggering back.

“Aaagh! Agh! My fuckin’ leg!” wailed the
other thug. Humiliation was as clear in his voice as pain. “I fuckin’ shot myself!”

The shooter’s screams were nothing compared to the vampire
’s. The smell of burning flesh and silk permeated the air as the flames consumed him, driving him further from any sensible reaction. His strong legs kicked right through both Wade and the ninja on the floor, knocking both men aside as the vampire ran out into the open only to trip over his own feet. He tumbled to the concrete, burning like a scarecrow in a bulky silk suit. His cries ended with his fall.

Drew brought
back one fist, lined up his swing and stepped in to bring all possible force into his uppercut. One second more might have offered all the thug needed to recover, but he never saw the blow coming. The punch laid him out cold.

The vampire
seemed finished. The other thug was down and clutching his wounded leg. Drew spotted his pistol and kicked it away, sending it under the van. That left only the ninja, who still tussled with Wade on the floor in a vicious ground fight. He lurched forward, wanting to help his friend, but the situation changed all over again.

“Freeze! FBI!” bellowed a loud, deep, commanding voice. “Hands over your heads, now!”
The speaker moved in with his pistol drawn and pointed directly at Drew. Somewhere beyond the Glock was a dark suit and a blond crew cut, but the gun said enough all by itself.

He wasn’t alone. Drew spotted two more figures, a white man and an Asian woman, also in business attire and also moving in with guns drawn. The woman pushed past Drew as her partner
shoved him against the van. She stepped right into the still-struggling pile of Wade and the ninja, snatching Wade’s wrist with her free hand and twisting it behind his back. She stomped down between the ninja’s shoulder blades with one firm foot. “It’s over!” she barked.

“Think they’re legit?” Wade asked loudly.

“Shut up!” both of the male agents yelled. “Just shut up right now!”

Drew ignored them. “Hope so,” he announced. The rougher push up against the van and the renewed chorus of commands fit his expectations.

“Sorry, man,” grunted Wade.

“We said, shut up, or we will fucking gag you,” snarled the woman who already had Wade half-cuffed. “Don’t test us.”

“Is it just them?” asked the blond man.

“Yeah, just the two of them,” replied a somewhat muffled voice from behind Drew. “The others didn’t seem to come out.”

The blond grunted. “Good. This asshole over here needs bandaging, but he’ll make it out of the garage first. Let’s wrap everyone up and get out of here before this becomes a bigger scene.”

“
Bandaging? You ain’t callin’ an ambulance?” asked Drew. His only answer came as a gloved hand pushed his head up against the van. He felt another hand grab his wrist and twist it around his back and heard the sound of handcuffs emerging from someone’s belt.

Drew let out a grim breath. Getting arrested by Spider-Man was not the way he’d intended to end his Halloween.

*   *   *

Onyx shuddered at the
touch of skilled fingers slipping under her skirts and over her hips. Given the intricacies of her outfit—bodice over blouse and leather belt over it all—she wouldn’t have thought such a move possible. Yet the succubus pulled it off with ease and grace. Lorelei embraced her from behind, filling Onyx with anticipation. Onyx felt Lorelei’s hands against her hips, and then over the creases between those hips and her thighs at her front, and then, briefly, teasingly, between her legs.

“You two mustn’t become completely disheveled,” Lorelei whispered, punctuating her words with a soft nibble of
Onyx’s earlobe. “The night is still young.”

She felt the succubus hook her fingers around the top folds of her skirt and tug down gently, bit by bit, heightening her anticipation. Onyx opened her eyes at that first sensation of her skirts sliding down, torn once again between wanting this and not wanting things to go too far. Yet there was Molly, sitting on the bed right in front of Onyx, watching with wide, eager eyes.

Molly’s outfit had been loosened up, too. Onyx gazed down at her lover’s face, her exposed collarbones and the valley of her cleavage. She felt her trepidation fall away much like her skirt. Molly was here, and approved, and even slid her hands up Onyx’s sides and gently over her breasts.

Lorelei read their relationship well. She knew which of her new playmates would dive into this sort of adventure, and which would need more reassurance.
Neither young woman expected this, but as long as they were together, they could both enjoy themselves. Lorelei made sure Onyx had her lover’s eyes in direct, easy view as she bent at the knees and slipped the skirts to the floor.