Frost Burn

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Frost Burn Page 10

by Erica Stevens


  Her eyes darted away from them and to the numerous men crammed within the building. A good chunk of the patrons had gathered in the chairs and tables clustered around the stage, but a number of them stood at the bar and moved through the room. There were more women than she’d expected, and not all of them worked here.

  The odors assaulting her highly attuned sense of smell caused her nose to wrinkle. She had to fight the urge to pinch her nostrils closed against the body odor, lust and stale alcohol smell permeating the room, but she didn’t think it would help her blend into the crowd. The beat of the club music resonated in her ears, her head was already pounding, and they hadn’t made it more than five feet past the door.

  “Are you sure they’re going to come here?” Melissa asked with a wrinkled nose and a look on her face Quinn was sure mirrored her own.

  “I see five of them already,” she said and waved toward one of the booths on the far wall.

  The large booth was crowded with a group of townie kids. They leaned over the table in front of them as they waved money in the air. One of the kids in the booth sported a black eye and his nose had doubled in size. It was a nose she clearly recalled decking after he’d grabbed her boob last night. He didn’t look overly upset about his nose as he shook his money more insistently at a woman bending in ways Quinn hadn’t considered possible until now.

  She scanned the crowd, picking out three more men from last night. They were all wearing their cowboy hats and leaning against the bar. The two groups may have been trying to kill each other last night, but none of them paid attention to each other now. By the time they dragged themselves back into Clint’s, she knew they’d all be friends again.

  “I’ll be back.” Julian had spoken the words in a low voice, but Quinn heard them clearly over the noise.

  “We’ll be at the bar,” Chris said and turned away from him. “Checking out Jesse James and his gang.”

  “Their names are Ross, Ernie, and Jeb,” she whispered to Chris. “Some of my best tippers, so be nice.”

  “Then you can do the talking, and I’ll do the reading of them,” Chris told her with a smile.

  Quinn nodded as she approached the group of men. Jeb’s grin split his weathered face and revealed his teeth. His hazel eyes twinkled as he tipped the front of his hat to her. He was a handsome man with curly blond hair and an easygoing charm, but she’d always brushed off his advances. She seriously doubted the, ‘hey, I’m one of the living dead,’ approach to starting a relationship went over great with anyone.

  “Quinn what brings you to this place?” Jeb greeted.

  “I thought I’d stop by and say hi to Hawtie, haven’t seen her in over a week,” she replied, though she’d never come in here to hunt down her friend before. “And show my friends around.”

  Jeb’s eyes slid past her to the others before rapidly coming back to her. “Hawtie and Clint are on the outs again? That explains his actually shooting the gun last night.”

  Quinn chuckled. “It does.” Clint and Hawtie had been on and off since they’d been out of diapers. Despite their tumultuous relationship, they always found their way back together.

  “How mad is Clint?” Ross asked.

  “You know Clint, by next week it will all be forgotten,” she replied with a smile.

  “And at eight dollars a beer we’ll all be broke,” Ernie said and lifted his bottle of beer into the air.

  “You know what happens when you get in a fight in his bar,” Quinn admonished.

  Ernie ducked his head sheepishly. “Yeah, we know, but sometimes the alcohol gets the best of us.”

  “Not at eight dollars a pop,” she replied with a laugh.

  Ernie chuckled, finished off his beer and dropped it on the bar. She turned toward the young bartender with shockingly bright red hair. The woman had more piercings in her eyebrow than hair and eyes the color of a pumpkin due to contacts. Her clothes were skimpy, but her breasts were completely covered.

  “What can I get you?” the woman inquired.

  “I’ll take a rum and coke,” Quinn answered and looked questioningly toward the others.

  “Water,” Melissa said.

  “Crown on the rocks,” Chris replied.

  Chris wasn’t looking at the three men, but she could feel his attention tuned into them while he watched the stage. His eyes briefly met hers; he shook his head. Quinn’s shoulders slumped in relief; she happily snatched up her drink and took a swallow of the cool, sweet concoction.

  She knew all of the men who had been in the bar last night, but she knew some of them better than others. She really hadn’t wanted it to be one of these guys. They were a good group, normally easy going, fun to talk with, and they didn’t constantly try to grab her ass. She couldn’t imagine any of them getting any sort of pleasure out of killing women and children, but she knew how well people could keep their secrets hidden from the world.

  She took another sip of her drink as Hawtie emerged from a side room. For a woman in her fifties, Hawtie was still one the most stunning women Quinn had ever seen. Her deep auburn hair, piled on top of her head, shone in the dim light. She had high cheekbones and porcelain skin just beginning to crinkle around her warm brown eyes and full mouth.

  If Hawtie’s face didn’t catch someone’s attention, her body often stopped them dead in their tracks. Her ample breasts had been thrust upward by a curve-hugging corset. Her round hips were enhanced by the form-fitting black pants she’d poured herself into. It wasn’t until Hawtie had reached her teens, or so Quinn had been told, that she’d been given, and still embraced, the fitting nickname of Hawtie the body.

  Hawtie’s gaze skimmed over her establishment before coming to rest on Quinn. Her painted red mouth broke into a welcoming grin and her eyes sparkled. Hawtie sashayed toward her with a sway of her hips that turned the heads in the tables closest to her.

  Her arms opened to embrace Quinn in a hug that crushed her against the warm body. If Quinn had been human, she may have suffocated in the voluptuous breasts she found her face practically smooshed into. She smiled as Hawtie’s heat enveloped her and the familiar scent of lavender filled her nostrils.

  Hawtie smoothed back Quinn’s hair when she pulled away to smile down at her. At five nine, Quinn didn’t often feel small around women, but Hawtie had a good three inches on her. “What are you doing in here?” Hawtie demanded.

  “Looking for you.” Quinn felt bad for lying to her; however, she wasn’t about to admit they were here looking for a serial killer. “Haven’t seen you in over a week.”

  “Aw honey, you shouldn’t have come in here.” Hawtie grabbed both sides of the bottom of Quinn’s hair and pulled it forward. It was such a strange yet oddly calming gesture Hawtie did to her often.

  “I wasn’t sure when you’d be returning to Clint’s.”

  “Pfft, that man,” Hawtie said and waved her red tipped fingers through the air.

  “Hawtie…”

  “You know how it is.” Hawtie tugged on her hair before releasing it. “He’s a stubborn old coot.”

  “And you’re just as stubborn,” Quinn replied. “You should just agree to marry the man already. You’ve been together long enough.”

  “And give up this last name?”

  “That’s not necessary anymore,” Quinn said with a laugh.

  “I know, but I’m not the marrying type.”

  “True, but you’re also not the dating anyone besides Clint type.”

  Hawtie’s deep, belly-rumbling laughter rolled from her, causing everyone nearby to smile. She slugged down the shot of tequila the bartender placed on the bar before turning back to Quinn. “That I’m not. You know the two of us, by next week we’ll be all lovey-dovey again.”

  “I hope so,” Quinn said honestly.

  She missed Hawtie when she wasn’t at the bar, and Clint became even more of a bear to deal with after the second week they were apart. There had been a time the two had fought for a whole month, by the end of the month Clin
t had been on one side of the bar and everyone else on the other.

  “You could have called, we would have done dinner,” Hawtie told her. “Instead of you coming in.”

  “It’s about time I check out your place.”

  “Sugar, this place isn’t for you.”

  “Hawtie, I’m a big girl. Plus I had some friends who wanted to come in,” Quinn told her. Friends was an extremely loose term, but she didn’t know how else to describe them.

  Hawtie’s eyes lit with curiosity. “What friends?”

  It was a legitimate question, the few friends she had in town Hawtie already knew. Quinn turned and gestured Chris and Melissa forward. “This is Chris and Melissa.”

  Hawtie grinned and extended her hand to them. Her hand lingered within Chris’s as her grin became saucy and she stuck out a hip. “Aren’t you just too cute.” She gave Quinn a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows before focusing on Chris and Melissa again. “And how do you know Quinn?”

  “We met the other night at Clint’s,” Quinn answered. “They’re traveling through the area.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful!” Hawtie declared. “It’s great to finally see Quinn making some friends.”

  If she’d been a thirteen year old girl she would have been mortified, instead she brushed the comment off. “You know my friends,” Quinn replied with a false laugh.

  “Yeah because they’re from this town. So secretive this one.” Hawtie pinched her cheek before turning toward Chris and Melissa. “Where are you from?”

  “Massachusetts,” Melissa answered.

  “I’m not much for the cold; I like the heat,” Hawtie said and bumped Quinn’s hip playfully.

  Hawtie’s eyes slid past her, but even before they widened in admiration, Quinn knew Julian had returned. The aura of power he radiated caused her skin to ripple with awareness and her body to warm unexpectedly.

  “Hell-ooo sugar,” Hawtie purred. She released Quinn and adjusted her ample breasts before turning her thousand-watt smile on Julian.

  Quinn shook her head, but Julian smiled back at her and propped an elbow on the bar. “Hello yourself there, Red.”

  It took everything she had to bite her tongue as Hawtie thrust her hand out to him. “Chelsea Hawtie, but you can call me Hawtie, everyone else does.”

  “I can see why,” Julian replied as he took hold of her hand.

  Quinn had never experienced jealousy before, but she was fairly certain that was the emotion churning in her belly right now. “Aren’t you a smooth one,” Hawtie said with a flutter of her sweeping lashes.

  “Smooth as ice, but much more fun to play on.”

  Quinn choked on her drink; her hand flew up to her mouth as liquid sprayed out of it. Her eyes watered as soda surged up to burn her nose. Hawtie laughed flirtatiously, Melissa and Chris rolled their eyes and turned away from them. Quinn swore her blood began to boil when Julian started thumping her on the back, and Hawtie fixed her with assessing eyes.

  Moving quickly away from his hand, she gave Hawtie a tight smile before slipping around her to stand beside Jeb and Ernie. She’d hoped having Hawtie in between her and Julian would help to calm her, it didn’t. She kept her attention focused on the bottles of liquor lined up in front of the mirror behind the bar. Chugging down the rest of her drink, she pushed her empty glass toward the bartender.

  “Refill?” the woman asked.

  She was about to tell her to just hand over the bottle of rum when a large hand, with strong pale fingers enclosed the top of her empty glass. Julian’s chiseled bicep didn’t touch her, but she could feel the heat of his flesh so near to hers. If she moved so much as an inch, they would be touching each other. She knew she couldn’t let it happen, but the irresistible urge to feel his flesh pressed against hers, slithered through her. Instead, she glared daggers at the offending fingers covering her glass.

  “People have lost a hand for less,” she muttered grumpily.

  “I know they have, but unfortunately we have to go.” His affable tone caused her teeth to clench.

  “I thought we were staying for a bit.”

  “Change of plans.”

  Quinn forced a cheery smile to her face when she turned to face him. She felt anything but chipper though as she met his strangely colored, yet captivating eyes. All she felt was completely overwhelmed and more than a little out of her depth. He seemed to realize this too as the corner of his mouth quirked into that aggravating little smile.

  “Fine.” Looking to escape him, she turned to Hawtie. Her smile was no longer forced as she embraced her friend.

  “Be careful of that one,” Hawtie murmured in her ear.

  “I’d prefer to choke him.”

  Hawtie laughed, but her eyes were troubled when she stepped away.

  Chapter Eleven

  “It wasn’t any of those guys, but I found out where there’s a party tonight from the kid whose nose you permanently rearranged,” Julian told Quinn when they stepped outside of the club. He scented the fresh air, glad to be free of the noise and smells permeating the strip club.

  Quinn’s gaze had been focused on the parking lot, but she finally looked at him. “Bonfire?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I know where it is.”

  “You’ve been before?”

  “No.” The word was blunt but she didn’t expound on it. “We’re going to have to borrow Clint’s Jeep.”

  They followed her down to Clint’s Bar and waited while she went inside before returning with the keys. She gestured to the back of the building. Julian walked beside her around the bar to the wooden garage set up behind it. He slid the garage door open and stepped back to admire the red Jeep parked inside. The roof and doors had been taken off the Wrangler. The jacked up tires, roll bar running across the top, and the winch on the front made it clear this was more than just a vehicle to get from point a to point b.

  “Want me to drive?” he asked.

  Quinn shook her head; her face remained impassive, but there was an eager glimmer in her eyes. She climbed onto the high step and swung into the driver’s seat. Julian climbed up beside her; Chris and Melissa slid into the back.

  Quinn shifted into first, popped the e-brake and pulled out of the garage with a lurch of the massive tires. They didn’t head for the road but drove behind the garage and into the desert. The headlights bounced off of a road consisting only of sand packed down beneath the weight of the countless vehicles that had traveled over it.

  The sky spread out before them with a vast array of twinkling stars. The full moon hanging heavily in the midnight sky lit the night. Quinn shifted into fourth; her smile grew as they sped across the sand. The cool wind felt refreshing against Julian’s skin as it whipped through his hair and tugged at his clothes.

  Sand kicked up around them and dinged off the undercarriage of the Jeep when Quinn pressed down harder on the gas. Julian grabbed hold of the roll bar over his head as the Jeep left the earth and briefly caught flight over a dune. Chris’s knees pressed into the back of his seat as he braced himself more firmly. Julian heard the clicks of Melissa and Chris’s seat belts sliding into place seconds before the tires crashed back to earth. They all bounced in their seats; the struts and springs squeaked and groaned, but the sounds were drowned out by Quinn’s vivacious laughter.

  The force of the landing was nothing compared to the amazement cascading through him at the sound of her laughing. He’d never heard her laugh before, he found it refreshing and enticing as he turned to look at her. Her honey hued eyes were aglow with pleasure; the smile curling her full mouth lit up her face as she hit the gas even harder. The illumination of the moon and the joy she radiated made her appear softer, and more approachable. She actually looked like a young woman acting her age for a change, something he didn’t think she did often.

  Her laughter continued as they flew over top of another dune. They crashed back to earth with enough force that he would have been launched from
his seat if he didn’t already have his hand braced against the roll bar. Quinn let out a whoop of joy; her hair whipped behind her as the Jeep left the earth again.

  Julian couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the pleasure she took in the speed and power of the vehicle. Flying over top of another dune, Julian spotted a glow in the distance and the scent of burning wood drifted into his nostrils. He wasn’t ready for Quinn’s laughter to stop, but he realized he didn’t have a choice as she eased off the gas and sat back in her seat.

  Coming over top of the next dune, the large bonfire and nearly fifty people gathered around it came into view. Jeeps, dirt bikes, ATV’s, and other assorted off road vehicles encircled the bonfire. Quinn parked the Jeep and turned the vehicle off.

  “Crazy freaking vampires,” Chris said. “You know, we can die.”

  Quinn chuckled as she pulled the keys from the ignition. “You’re a Hunter, you heal fast.”

  “I still like my bones intact.”

  “We all do,” Melissa agreed as she climbed out of the Jeep. “And we can’t heal from death.”

  “I wouldn’t have killed you,” Quinn promised.

  Julian ran a hand through his tussled hair as Quinn hopped out of the vehicle in one easy bound. He studied her as she moved around the Jeep with the flowing grace of a ballerina. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as he climbed down.

  “You’re driving back,” Chris muttered to him as he walked past.

  Julian nodded but his mind was replaying Quinn’s words. “How did you know about Hunters?” he inquired as he walked around to meet Quinn in front of the Jeep.

  “Huh?” she asked absently, her gaze focused on the bonfire and the people gathered around it.

  “How did you know that Hunters heal fast?”

 

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