Ms Amazing: Lair of the Lycans: Synne City Super Heroines in Peril (Synne City Super Heroines in Peril Series Book 20)

by JK Waylon

  "It’s possible that Pyrrah might have bitten some of them to recruit them."

  Ms Amazing looked horrified. "That's unacceptable."

  Amazon Arrow wagged her brows. "Then we'll have to make sure it isn't true, or vanquish any Lycans that Pyrrah might have created before I leave."

  "Then you will stay with me?"

  "Separate bedrooms?"

  "Of course. I have a boyfriend," she said. "Sort of. Kinda."

  "Good. I've been known to… Never mind," Amazon Arrow said, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Shall we share everything we each know about the War Dogs, and any other gangs who might have ties with the Lycan world?"

  "Awesome," Ms Amazing said, her face brightening. "And then you can tell me all about the Amazon Isles."

  Chapter 5

  The next night…

  Barbara turned her rearview mirror down to check her hair and face, and then applied another coat of pink lip gloss. Chryseis checked her face in the mirror on the passenger side visor. Barbara wore an electric blue bandage dress, very high hemline and plunging neckline. It made her super heroine costume look downright matronly. Chryseis wore a red silk dress, just as tight and flattering, and just as revealing. Barbara left her legs bare and stuffed into a pair of pink Casedei Blade pumps, while her friend wore black hose and red Christian Louboutin stilettos.

  Barbara wore a bright red wig, while Chryseis wore a blonde one. While it was unlikely the Amazon would be recognized, Barbara was a pretty well known local celebrity. She never went to Subversions unless wearing a wig, and twice she'd been recognized anyway.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Chryseis asked again.

  "No," Barbara replied. "Going undercover is always dangerous." She winked at her. "Maybe someday I'll tell you about the time I was turned into a ponygirl while undercover. That was intense."

  Chryseis' jaw dropped.

  They were parked behind the Marco Polo Pizzeria. All the wrong people knew the secret of that particular pizza place. It was the entrance to Subversions, which was the club and bar run by and for the city's underworld. Jethro Massey owned and managed it.

  "Have you been here before?" Chryseis asked as they walked toward the front door.

  "A few times," Barbara said. "Never as Ms Amazing. It's owned by the city's most powerful Void, so super heroines are not allowed."

  It was almost 11 o'clock when they entered the pizzeria. It was an old business, with a worn green tile floor and faded yellow walls covered with photos of famous customers. The most recent photo was thirty-five years old. It'd seen better days.

  The pizzeria had one thing going for it. It was built over the entrance to an abandoned subway station on the city's original subway system built in the late 1800s. The subways were abandoned after the turn of the century due to flooding from the nearby river. A new system had been constructed fifty feet lower and was still in use. The abandoned subway tunnels, meanwhile, had been turned to more nefarious enterprises.

  The Neo Gothic subway station was close to the river, but Jethro Massey managed to finally seal it off so that it no longer flooded, and then converted it into the underworld's favorite secret watering hole and dance club. Well, it was an open secret. No super heroine or cop would last ten minutes down there. It was too dangerous.

  So, of course, the city's super heroines had to all go down there in disguises. They occasionally went in to flirt, dance, and party with the bad guys, and learn their secrets. It was dangerous, but that was the price of being a super heroine. Fearlessly facing unimaginable danger was their stock-in-trade.

  Their heels clacked and clattered on the slick tiles. Barbara smacked loudly on a piece of gum, while twirling a lock of hair. The middle-aged man at the cash register glanced up. He looked them up and down, and jerked his head toward the back.

  "Thanks, sweetie," she said with a wink.

  There was a massive man standing guard at the door to the club. He was bald, with a black suit, black shirt, and black tie. He didn't move to open the door. That was a first for Barbara.

  "Password?"

  She gawked at him a moment. "There's never been a password before."

  "Things change," he said. "Password?"

  She glanced at Chryseis. For a second she was stumped. Then she smiled wickedly, thrust out her chest, and winked at the guard.

  "Are these password enough for you, sweetie?" she purred, giving her braless boobs a shake. He stared at her chest a second, and then looked at Chryseis' boobs. His eyes glazed over a second, before he shrugged and opened the door. "Thanks. You're the best."

  The door opened into a narrow stairwell. That took them down one flight, before it opened up on a wide deck. The old subway stairs started there. They descended into a vast open area, dimly lit and filled with men and women. The Neo Gothic structure had a high domed ceiling, with backlit stained glass. There were two long bars on opposite walls, with the dance floor under the dome. They could see balconies overlooking the dance floor and filled with couples in intimate conversations. Bistro tables with black tablecloths and dim lamps were scattered around the edges. Side rooms held more tables and a few VIP lounges.

  "Nice," Chryseis whispered.

  "There's a DJ Wednesday through Friday nights," she said. "They have a live band most Saturday nights."

  "So I show up on a Tuesday," Chryseis said. "Story of my life."

  There were an awful lot of women in Subversions that night. Barbara estimated the hot young women and coeds outnumbered the men three to one. The girls usually didn't come out in such numbers so early in the week. The competition would be stiff, and could foil their plans.

  They merged into the crowd. Barbara led, forcing her way toward the tables in back. She didn't get five feet before Chryseis gasped and cried out.

  "Oh, I forgot to warn you. The men in here are not shy about copping a feel," Barbara said, and even as she said it a large male hand reached around and gave her left boob a squeeze. "Jeeze."

  They continued plowing through the crowd, getting their butts slapped and pinched, and occasionally something even more intimate. When they found an empty table and stopped, the Greek beauty pressed close and held onto Barbara for a second.

  "I don't look forward to passing through them on the way out," she said, casting a hostile look back at the crowd. "Two hands went up my skirt, and one finger almost penetrated my… Well, it was bad."

  "You're running commando?"

  "No, but a thong isn't much protection from a rear assault."

  They sat at the table and watched the crowd for a few minutes. The club seemed more animated than usual. Women squealed and giggled. Men laughed. Barbara overheard a dozen crude suggestions in as many seconds, two of which were actually accepted.

  "There are a lot of unsavory men in your city," Chryseis said. "There has to be thousands here tonight."

  "It's a big city, with a lot more crime than most," she said. "But I doubt there's more than a thousand people here, and three-quarters are just foolish young women looking for danger and excitement."

  "Like us?"

  "Exactly."

  After a few minutes, Chryseis glanced around again. "I think you're wrong. This place is huge. There has to be at least three thousand people here."

  Before she could reconsider her own calculations, Barbara spotted a pair of bikers moving in their direction. She didn't recognize either of them, but there were only three biker gangs in Synne City. There was a one-in-three chance they were part of the War Dogs.

  "Heads up," she whispered to her partner in crime. Turning to the bikers as they reached their table. "Hey, boys. Who does a girl have to sleep with to get a drink around here?"

  Chryseis did a double-take on her. So did the two bikers. The men looked the two women over. Barbara shot them her most sizzling come-hither look. Both men wore faded jeans and worn black leather vests. Their motorcycle club colors were on the back of those vests, but she hadn't been able to get a look yet.

&n
bsp; "I'm Hound," the tall blonde biker said. "He's Cole."

  Both men were around six-foot-five, with long hair and beards. Hound might've been just a bit taller and broader of shoulder. Tattoos covered all exposed flesh, and there was a lot of exposed skin. Cole had dark hair and eyes. Hound focused on Barbara, Cole on Chryseis.

  "I'm Carrie," Chryseis said. "And my friend is Beth. Care to join us?"

  "And buy us drinks," Barbara added quickly. She cocked her head, giving them a challenging look. "You're real outlaw bikers, right? Not doctors and lawyers playacting?"

  They laughed. Hound turned around to show them his colors. “War Dogs Motorcycle Club” was embroidered around a picture of a viciously snarling Pit Bull. Barbara became all tingly inside and out. It wasn't often she hit a home run right away. In Subversions an undercover heroine usually had to kiss a lot of frogs before she found her evil prince.

  The men sat, each pressing up close to the lady of his choice. Barbara leaned in to speak intimately with Hound, and Chryseis did the same with Cole. A few minutes later a waitress appeared.

  "Chardonnay," Barbara said, and Chryseis nodded.

  "Two chardonnays and twenty shots of vodka," Hound said.

  Barbara arched a brow at him. If each of the bikers drank ten shots, then they were going to be smashed pretty damn fast. No telling how much they'd already consumed. So she was going to have to get to business quicker than she liked.

  "That's a lot of vodka," she purred. "You guys must be tough."

  They puffed up, flexing their overdeveloped biceps. Barbara appreciated it, though she wasn't a fan of tattoos. Still, she stroked Hound's arm with one hand, while taking his hand in her other. They shared some intense gazing as she praised his virility, and he agreed.

  "Here you go," the waitress said, placing her tray on the table. She quickly moved two glasses of wine and twenty shot glasses onto the table. Hound paid her. "Have fun."

  The two bikers immediately dumped a shot of vodka into each of their glasses of wine. Barbara's jaw dropped. She wasn't much of a drinker. Occasionally she'd sip wine. Hard liquor and beer weren't to her taste. Chryseis stared at her wine for a moment before she picked it up and took a sip.

  "A toast," Hound said, handing Barbara a shot of vodka. "Let the good times roll."

  He threw his shot back and then dropped his eyes to her deep cleavage. She rolled her eyes, steeled herself, and drank her shot. It burned all the way down, and made her cough. Chryseis managed to down her shot without gagging, but immediately chased it down with a sip of wine. Barbara followed her example and took a deep swallow, and was hit by the increased alcohol content after the added shot.

  "Wow," Barbara whispered. "I've never had a shot in my wine before."

  "Good shit," Hound said, handing her another shot. "Drink up."

  She looked at Chryseis. They shared a worried look before upending their shot glasses. Again, Barbara gagged, but it wasn't as bad as the first time. Warmth began to spread throughout her body.

  "Ooh, Beth, look at him," Chryseis said, pointing at a large man dancing nearby. "He's so hairy. Do you think he's a Lycan?"

  Barbara caught her companion's eyes, and saw the calculating gleam. She smiled and nodded, before studying the hairy man with faux interest.

  "Oh my. Maybe," Barbara said breathlessly. "I've never been with a real werewolf before. Hmmm."

  "That's Kyle," Hound said. "He's no werewolf. I would know."

  "Why?" Barbara asked, and tried not to grimace when he handed her another shot of vodka. She'd never drank more than two shots in one night before, and even those shots had been downed many hours apart. "Do werewolves announce themselves here or something?"

  She threw the shot back and swallowed. Her eyes watered that time, and the burn felt deeper. Again, she took a deep swallow of wine.

  "Most chicks drink wine with a vodka chaser, not the other way around," Hound said, looking amused. "And werewolves aren't hairy, 'cept when they actually start turning. Hell, you could be a werewolf without a single extra hair."

  Barbara felt a sweet buzz. Her eyes especially felt it. She rubbed her lips together, struggled to gather her wits, and tried to look unaffected. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Hound’s lips.

  "How do you know so much about Ly… Werewolves?" Chryseis asked. "Are you a werewolf?"

  "I wish. Maybe someday," he said. "Let's just say, we know a pair of 'em very, very well."

  Barbara noticed the three men at an adjoining table were paying a little too much attention to them. Was it lust? Or were they interested in the conversation? Either way, she didn't like it.

  "A toast to werewolves," Hound said, giving Barbara another shot.

  She stared at it a moment. Barbara knew she'd already drank too much. Chryseis quickly downed her shot, and swayed a little in her chair. Hound was watching her, so Barbara drank hers a little slower than usual.

  "Oh, my God," she cried, coughing as it burned her tongue and throat, and then warmed her belly. "Never sip vodka."

  The two bikers laughed.

  She looked at the shot glasses lined up on the table. Fourteen were empty and upside-down on the table, with six more to go. That didn't seem right. She and Chryseis had each downed four, plus one in each of their wines. That was ten. Didn't the men match them shot for shot? She couldn't recall.

  "Oh wow, I'm so drunk," Chryseis said.

  Someone at another table said, "Ah, the mating call of the North American slut."

  "What did he say?" the Amazon beauty asked.

  "A toast to mating calls," Cole said.

  The women were handed two new shots, which they promptly drank. Barbara heard chairs sliding across the floor as the two bikers moved in much closer. She sat there in a booze-induced daze as Hound's hand stroked her thigh. One arm went around her shoulders before he pulled her close and began kissing her cheek and neck.

  "Mmmm," she moaned, head starting to loll around. I'm in trouble.

  Barbara giggled. She wasn't sure why, but his beard was tickling her cheek and neck. She wiggled and put up a half-hearted fight. It wasn't even a big deal when he copped a feel of her tits. But then his hand slipped up her dress and gave her thong-sheathed pussy a firm stroke.

  "Hey!" she cried, sitting up straight. He pressed another shot glass into her hand, and pushed it up to her lips. Barbara drank. "Ugh. Oh, that burns so good."

  So he gave her the last shot. And in the next moment claimed her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. When she pushed into the kiss, he opened her mouth with his and their tongues began to dance. She had a fleeting thought of her Russian billionaire boyfriend, before Hound's fingers slipped under her thong.

  "Not here," she said after turning her face to break free of his kisses.

  She looked at Chryseis to discover her friend's dress was down around her waist and Cole was sucking on a nipple. The Amazon's eyes were closed and her head rolled back, while her long, delicate fingers combed through his hair.

  "Ooooh, yes," Chryseis whispered.

  "No, no, no," Barbara said, struggling to her feet. Everything suddenly tilted and spun. She collapsed back into her chair. "I'm so drunk it's ridiculous."

  Hound was all over her again. His kisses were so amazing. She wanted to kiss and snuggle all night. But… There was a reason she shouldn't. Barbara couldn't recall what it was, though.

  "You guys are such predators," Barbara whispered. "Are you sure you aren't werewolves?"

  The bikers chuckled.

  "No, not us. Artimus bit – " Cole said.

  "Shut up," Hound said.

  That was all she needed to hear. Barbara was confident at least one of the War Dogs was a werewolf now. That one werewolf could easily bite the others and spread his curse to the entire gang. They had to be stopped.

  "Carrie. Carrie," she called, struggling out of Hound's graspy hands. "Come on, girl. We're too drunk to make good decisions." She gave Hound a dark look. "I told you I have a rich boyfriend. I can't affor
d to lose him."

  Hound and Cole scowled at them as Barbara helped Chryseis get her outfit back in order. Then, arm-in-arm, they staggered for the exit. Barbara pulled out her phone, studied the screen with bleary eyes, and finally found the Uber app.

  "Tonight was a success," she whispered into her friend's ear. "And we almost got laid."

  "I know," the Amazon said, sounding disappointed.

  Chapter 6

  "You know I tried this two nights ago and it didn't turn out well," Amazon Arrow whispered.

  Ms Amazing thought it had turned out pretty well. She'd gotten a dramatic rescue and a new friend out of it. Yet, she had a point. It was never safe to enter the War Dogs' lair.

  "Last time another gang was attacking them," Ms Amazing replied. "We'll catch them with their pants down this time."

  "Wish you'd find a better choice of words, but okay."

  Ms Amazing nodded and studied the old abandoned plant. There were multiple structures, with dark, narrow alleys and other passages between them, under them, and even some catwalks high above. The former owner's logo and name were long gone and it had closed sometime before Ms Amazing was born, so she didn't know what was once manufactured there. Whatever it was, it looked complicated.

  The structures were mostly red brick, but a few were metal buildings. Huge cone-shaped metal tanks were scattered about, along with three small water towers. The heroines squatted atop one of those water towers.

  They were a hundred feet above the parking lot where the two gangs had fought two nights earlier. At the moment, there were a dozen cars, pickup, jeeps and other four-wheeled vehicles parked down there, and easily twice that many Harley-Davidson motorcycles parked in two long lines in front of the entry.

  "How many are in that gang?" Amazon Arrow asked.