Six rules undying book 2, p.33
Six (Rules Undying Book 2), page 33
Both Sammy and Morgan joined Billy and Wesley in a hearty group hug. Paige couldn’t help but smile at the scene even as a few more drunk patrons stumbled out of the bar. “Excuse me,” Wesley sighed before helping one wobbly older gentleman into the back of a cab.
“How many drunks can you have at four in the afternoon?”
Paige asked.
“These are the regulars who start at noon. They know to get out when I start my shift if they know what’s good for them,” Wesley said.
He then punched Morgan’s arm and asked, “Are you going to introduce us, bro?”
“Paige, this is Wesley; Wesley, Paige,” Morgan said.
Wesley walked over and took her hand. As he kissed it, Morgan all but groaned. “Very pleased to meet you, Paige,” Wesley said with the slightest trace of an island accent. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind coming inside, I can get you some real food and some clean clothes.
No offense, but you all smell like you’ve been in Billy’s camper for a little too long.”
“Is Bernard here?” Morgan asked as he pointedly wrapped his arm around Paige’s waist. She couldn’t help but smile.
Wesley scanned the horizon with his dark eyes. “Oh, probably, but you know Bernard. He won’t show up until he’s got his tinfoil hat finished.”
“Tinfoil hat?” Paige asked as she slipped into the air-conditioning.
“Let’s just say that Bernard is a huge fan of your father’s work,”
Morgan said.
The group shuffled uneasily through the mostly empty tables topped with red satin tablecloths. A few barely sober regulars took the choice seats by the stage, while two girls shimmied and sashayed around poles on either end. The red velvet curtains and old-time corner booths seemed out of place with the coating of glitter stuck to random liquids on the floor.
“I liked it better when it was a magic club,” Morgan sighed as they wandered past unused chafing dishes and the beaten-up marble bar.
Billy, on the other hand, was clutching a flier to his chest and extolling, “Oh, there is a god; we’re here for the topless brunch on Sunday—”
Paige tried her best to keep her eyes fixed on the floor, but the mix of smells and stains made her have to swallow rapidly to fight the gag reflex. “Morgan, can I use your sanitizer for my eyeballs?”
she asked as she saw a particularly suspicious pile of tissues.
“Only if I can use it first,” Morgan muttered.
They ended up being deposited in the dressing room marked
“Visitors,” just past the girls’ locker room and some terrifying place labeled the Bubble Palace. Wesley gave a sheepish smile as he tossed leather pants to Sammy, Billy, and Morgan. “I’ve got plenty of leftovers from the last Ladies’ Night,” he said.
“Don’t you have any jeans?” Billy asked.
“Only the crotchless tear-away kind, I’m afraid. These are from the BDSM Boys from Reno, and I’m sure we have some that fit all of you,” Wesley said.
“I think I can hold out for a Wal-Mart run,” Morgan said as he tossed the studded black leather skinny pants over to Billy.
“No offense, but you smell bad even for you,” Wesley said as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Now I think that you should do your lady friend a favor and hit the showers, then show off the assets in these babies.”
Paige wandered over and picked up another pair. “Ooh, assless chaps—what more could a girl want?” she said with a little giggle.
“Sammy, are you going to be changing into these, because I’d love to see that—”
The ever-taciturn Sammy gave a wink and trundled off with the pants. Morgan rolled his eyes but got to his feet. “Just show me where the showers are, and Billy, I know you and Sam have some extra clothes buried somewhere,” he hissed.
Wesley turned his attentions to Paige. “You can get some clothes from Bunny. She’s one of the managers. Now, I’m on the
clock, so you’ll have to excuse me while I go back out front. There’s a shower in the girls’ room if you want to sneak down the hall.”
“Bunny?” Paige asked.
“Yeah; next door.”
Paige dutifully snuck across the hall. She eyed the racks of sequined and see-through numbers and cringed. Her eyes widened even further as she found one special rack of chains and black leather, crowned at the end with a pair of shorts with an enormous black and white tail pouring out the back.
“It’s for the Pony Club,” a no-nonsense voice said from behind Paige. She jumped as a much taller woman came barreling by with an arm full of boas. “Are you a new girl?”
“New girl? No, I’m just looking for Bunny. Wesley said I could get some clothes—”
“Oh, Wesley sent you?” she said, eyeing Paige. “I’m surprised since you have no tits to speak of, but what do I know? Yeah, I’m Bunny, and I’m sure I can find you something. Any friend of Wesley’s is a friend of mine.”
“Um, those shorts with the tail—” Paige said.
“Oh, the tail is separate,” Bunny said as she tugged the tail free to show off a rather suspicious plug of rubber. “But we have bridles and manes too if that’s what you’re into. The dungeon downstairs is our biggest draw on Thursdays through Saturdays.”
“But they make clothes with holes for a tail,” Paige said, eyeing the shorts again. Bunny raised a brow. “I mean, if I wanted to do something kinky for my boyfriend, you know.”
“Just how kinky is your boyfriend?”
“He’s a real animal,” Paige said with a smile.
Bunny patted Paige’s shoulder and gave her a wink. “Well, we like that here. Go get yourself a shower, and I’ll hook you up.”
Paige was pleasantly surprised by Bunny shoving her a bag of toiletries and towels so that Paige could have her first proper girlie shower in the better part of a week. She squealed with delight at the razors and shaving cream, as well as actual body wash. Her delight devolved into maniacal giggles as she read the label on the shampoo and conditioner she was given. “Mane and Tail, of course,
Paige, of course,” she choked out as she saw the rearing horse on the bottle.
She indulged in the luxury of a hair dryer and moisturizer and found the few ladies who worked at the Bust Stop to be genuinely friendly and accommodating, offering her everything from deodorant to mousse.
By the time she was done, she barely recognized the reflection in the mirror. Bunny gave her a huge thumbs-up before ordering someone named Miffy out on the dance floor.
“You know, darling, you could probably get great tips. We have customers that like the triple threat of boyish, athletic, and kinky. It’s for the guys who aren’t quite ready to make the leap—”
“Thank you so much for everything. Um, who do I owe for the clothes?”
Bunny waved her away. “Forget about it. They were from an old locker anyway. Girls leave shit here all the time.”
Paige gave one more surreptitious sniff to make certain she smelled the faint aroma of detergent on her new threads. She tottered slightly in the wedges Bunny had found for her and tugged at the bottom of her sleeveless knit top that liked to ride up every few steps. She did pause to admire her six-pack in the dressing room mirror before tugging her top down again and daring to face the boys.
She tiptoed in to find Sammy and Billy flopped on one of the dressing room couches, reading adult magazines of various flavors.
Across the room, Morgan had the laptop out and was staring intensely at the screen while every once in a while adjusting his cowhide trousers.
Paige cleared her throat. All three werewolves’ jaws dropped.
Paige struck a dainty little pose in the doorway. Morgan dropped the laptop down his legs and had to do a last-minute catch with his feet.
“Did I clean up all right?” Paige asked.
Sammy and Billy both nodded in appreciation, while Morgan remained stunned, staring unabashedly at Paige’s sleek and toned legs. What completely stole the show was a fluffy tail swishing proud and free through the back of her Daisy Dukes.
“That’s even hotter than I imagined,” Billy said. His gawking was interrupted by Sammy pointedly grabbing his eager brother’s arm and dragging him from the room. Paige giggled at the protests as the door slammed shut.
“Are you sure that you should have that hanging out?” Morgan asked.
Paige settled on the sofa, kicked off her heels, and wiggled her yellow-painted toes. She showed off by letting her claws peek out just a touch so that she could show off the French manicure she had attempted underneath. “What are people really going to think around here?” she asked. “And I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have a part of your body constantly cramped and shoved down your pants
—”
“I have a pretty good idea, yes,” Morgan said as he moved the laptop to safety and shifted again in his seat. “You just look so different.”
“Good different or bad different?” she purred as she rolled to the floor and crawled across the carpet toward his chair. She grabbed the bottle of hand sanitizer from the table next to him and rubbed it ever so slowly over her hands before she dared to climb on top of him.
“You think of everything,” he gulped as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You smell like flowers. It’s kind of disappointing.”
“What would you rather I smelled like?” she whispered ever so softly in his ear.
“Me,” he growled before grabbing her back and pressing his lips to hers. Just as his tongue had finally found a comfortable resting place deep within Paige’s eager mouth, the door to the visitor dressing room swung open.
“Well, this is awkward—” a rather nasally voice said. At the same time Paige heard a frighteningly familiar, “Oh, my.”
Paige whirled around to see two red-faced men standing in the doorway. One looked like he stepped straight from the pages of Viking Digest, while the other looked like he wanted to claw out his eyes.
“Bernard!” Morgan cried at the same time Paige yelped, “Dad!”
“Oh, this is awkward,” the Viking-looking dude said as he quickly shuffled Dr. Dexter Carmichael out into the less-embarrassing world of a low-end strip club.
- 29 -
Paige kept her eyes firmly planted on the little tea light holder that decorated their corner booth. Next to her, Morgan studied a particularly fascinating buckle in the plastic laminate that formed the edge of the table. Around the booth, Billy and Bernard formed a buffer zone, while Dr. Carmichael actually read the food and beverage menu of the Bust Stop Bar and Grill. Paige occasionally shot a wistful stare toward silent Sammy, who had taken up a perch near Wesley and the front door. The awkward silence continued until their ever-so-pleasant waitress came back with a first round of drinks. She surveyed the aura of awkwardness and offered to come back later for the rest of their order.
“You look very different, Mr. Wolfe,” Dr. Carmichael said as he set down his menu. “Is that something that you can, you know, do with your condition?”
“Actually it was a fat suit and a wig from the party store,”
Morgan confessed.
“And does my daughter know about your, um, condition?”
Dexter asked.
Paige let out a deep sigh. “Yes, Dad, I know exactly what he is,”
she said.
Everyone at the table exchanged awkward looks.
“Is it even safe?” he hissed as he looked nervously around the room. He glared at Morgan. “I might not be . . . like you, but I swear to god if you hurt my daughter—”
“Oh, Dad, please,” Paige growled. “Now is not the time for the macho father routine.”
“Paige, I’m just saying—”
Paige slapped her hands on the table, giving him a front-row view of her claws before she pushed to her feet and stomped away from the group. She could hear feet following her, but she didn’t stop until she had made it all the way out to the parking lot. She had switched back to her dirty sneakers and sweatpants, so she made amazing time running around the building to hide behind the RV.
“Paige! Paige, please.” Dr. Carmichael huffed and puffed as he jogged to catch up to her. The professor glared at Morgan, who had hustled to catch up with Paige as well. “Did you do this to my baby?”
he snapped.
“No, Dad, you did,” she barked.
“What? Paige, what are you talking about?” he asked.
“You sent me all that crazy information on vampires that caused Morgan and his insane uncle to come after me,” she spat out. “I ended up in the hospital, Dad, and you were nowhere to be found.”
“Paige, baby, what are you talking about? I saw your mother, tried to warn her, but it was too late. I was going to see you, but there was a car already at your house—”
“Dad, you were in my apartment. You showed me pictures of a freaky guy named Ivan Lyashev, who was there at my great-grandpa’s funeral seventy years ago. You . . . you honestly don’t remember?” Paige asked.
“You gave me a flash drive, Dr. Carmichael. You told me to deliver it to Paige if you didn’t come back to tell me how your meeting went,” Morgan added. “I gave it to her when you didn’t check in.”
“Oh god, I don’t remember that. I thought I was meeting you, Paige, for the first time today—” Dr. Carmichael said.
“In the video you sent me, you warned me that vampires could manipulate people. You told me that you weren’t immune. You told me to find Morgan because he was able to help me—”
“I thought I’d finally found people who could protect you, Paige.
Bernard told me that you were coming, but I wasn’t expecting—” His words faded into a flurry of dismissive hand motions directed at Morgan.
“Dad, I’m a werewolf. Are we going to deal with this or what?”
Dr. Carmichael spread out his arms and enveloped Paige in an unequivocal daddy bear hug. He ruffled her curls, much to her chagrin. “I really don’t know what to say, but we’ll figure it out. I mean, Bernard is a nice werewolf—”
“Morgan is a nice werewolf too,” Paige added.
Morgan approached the pair of Carmichaels rather sheepishly.
“Sir, I am sorry for, um, you know—”
“Paige, did you have a tail?” Dr. Carmichael asked.
She nodded.
“That’s a relief. After some of the things I’ve seen around here, I was afraid . . . you know, I’m just going to stop talking. Why don’t we go have a few beers and then talk?”
“I like this plan, Dad. I really do.”
Dr. Carmichael sized up Morgan one more time. The over-six-foot tall werewolf cowered before the professor in tweed. He began muttering, “Sir, I am, I mean, I, um . . . I just want you to know that—”
“Stop talking, Morgan,” Paige said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he fell in line behind her.
Dr. Carmichael raised a brow. “I guess I have nothing to worry about,” he said appreciatively.
They settled back into the booth, and all took big sips of their beers.
The last member of the werewolf pack, Bernard, had found the time to braid napkins into a fairly substantial piece of rope and was using it to lasso Billy’s beer.
“Oh, you’re back, Professor C,” Bernard said as he finally was able to get the coil of rope around the bottle neck. “We didn’t know when you’d be back, so we ordered you steaks. I just found out that your daughter is part of our pack. Isn’t that awesome?”
“Bernard is the most like me,” Morgan muttered.
Paige eyed the wild-eyed young man with the sides of his head shaved and a beard that stuck out a solid two inches from his face. A few wild waves of hair flopped in front of his bushy brows, but the vast majority of his Mohawk mane was tied into a messy topknot. He
stared slightly past Paige, seemingly lost in thought. “Do you really have a tail?” he asked.
“I can see it,” Paige muttered as she looked at both of the twitchy geek boys. She finally sighed, “Yes, Bernard, I have a tail.”
They spent the rest of the evening with beers, steaks, and strippers. Paige and her dad compared their vastly different recollections about the week he came to Memphis, while Billy and Bernard took notes.
“So, what happened after you were attacked? How did you end up here?” Dr. Carmichael asked his daughter.
“It’s a bit complicated,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me more about what you’ve been up to, Dad?”
“Well, I’ve been on a sabbatical to finish my next book. I have a few conventions in the fall and spring, and I think it’s going to be quite a stellar year once I finally expose the greatest conspiracy that mankind has ever known—”
“Dad, you aren’t honestly going to publish a book on vampires, are you?”
“I have to now. Apparently I had data so good that the vampires erased my memories, right? I just have to figure out where my backups are, and with your help and the boys—”
“But you don’t remember anything, right?” Paige asked again.
“I know I’ve got copies somewhere. It’s just a question of figuring out what I did. If I can fool the men in black, I can fool dead people. Paige, Paige, are you OK? You look a little pale—”
Paige rubbed her temple. “I think it’s just too much beer and not enough food. Can you order me another porterhouse, rare? I’m just going to go to the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”
Morgan squeezed her hand. “Are you sure—?”
“Get me a water too,” she said as she pulled free of his grasp.
Paige made a beeline for the back of the joint. Instead of heading to the ladies’ room, she went just a touch farther to a door marked “Office.” She looked over her shoulder before trying the lever on the door. She opened it slowly and smiled to the lone occupant of the tiny, crowded room. Bunny looked at her visitor quizzically and folded over the pile of bills she was looking through ever so intently.
“Can I help you?” she asked. “This is a private office.”
“I just needed to use the phone,” Paige said, pointing to the putty-colored dinosaur on the wall.
“Again?” Bunny asked.
