Pack or Prey (Wolfblooded book 1)

Chapter 7, Part 3

*****

I pulled my car into the parking lot of The Velvet Rope nightclub and did a few laps in search of a decent spot. Tonight was a busy night, it seemed. They’d been advertising the debut of their "Nightingale". That was the hook they were trying out for Liz. She had won the admiration of my boss with an enticing fan dance and Andre, creative genius he isn't, thought the large feather fans made her look like some exotic bird.

Personally, I don't know how a bird can be considered sexy, but either way, I was proud of her. Liz had almost no confidence when I first met her. She was quiet, rarely made eye contact with anyone, and always second-guessed herself in everything she did. It pained me to see such a beautiful girl be so diminutive. Especially when I could just tell she was hiding a really large, and amazing, personality behind her sheepishness.

I don't know what made her behave that way, and to be honest I haven't asked her. It was probably a childhood thing, and I was in no position to analyze her. All I could do was try my best to boost her self-esteem and coax out the woman I knew was hiding inside.

I'd helped her practice for her audition—such a pretty word for our line of work—and was surprised by how well she moved. She was a natural. Once she had the confidence she needed, she would be spectacular.

The air conditioning hit me at full blast the moment I stepped inside. It sent a shiver over my skin as the cold air hit the small beads of sweat that had formed on my neck and back.

"You're just in time, sugar. Liz just stepped onto the stage." A deep baritone voice greeted me when I stepped out of the entryway and into the main room.

Jackson was six-foot three, and about as wide as two of me standing shoulder to shoulder. He was bald, but it was hard to tell if it was the kind of bald that came from genetics or if it was just his preferred style. He didn't look old enough for his hair to be falling out, so I assumed it was just a force of habit from his time in the military. He had two heavy-looking hoops dangling from his earlobes and some smaller ones which ran all the way up the curve of his ear. If there was ever an incentive for the patrons to be on their best behavior, it was an intimidating, pierced up, ex-marine watching everybody’s every move.

I smiled at him as he stepped down from his stool by the door. While most people would shrink within themselves at his looming size, I knew that behind the grind-your-bones-to-make-my-bread appearance he was just as sweet and cuddly as a carnival teddy bear. All the girls adored him. He was a complete gentleman, thanks largely in part to his southern upbringing.

I wrapped my arms around his mid-section, but my hands barely touched at his back. He was all hard muscle behind his thinly-stretched Velvet Rope Security t-shirt. Burying the side of my face against his chest, I let him hug me back, though he held a certain air of caution when hugging us girls. Maybe he thought we would shatter in his arms.

Pulling away from the hug, I stared up at him and smiled. "Thanks Jackson. Come have a shot with me on your next break, okay?"

He smiled and nodded before taking his post back at the door and jutting a hand in front of an entering male.

I left him to check ID's and found a small table near the edge of the stage. The music was sensual and slow and took me to a place of exotic flowers and waterfalls. Carefully sliding into the small chair, I turned my attention to the performance.

Liz was dancing with two oversized feather fans in a deep blue color. The middle of the fans, where she held them, were sparkling with rhinestones that glinted and played in the lighting above her, almost as if they were alive and a part of the show as well. She held one fan in front of her and the other behind, encasing her nimble body in the soft plumes of the feathers.