J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [166]
When they came up to ZeroSum, John headed for the back of the wait line, but Qhuinn spun him to a halt. “We got an in, remember?”
They sure as hell did. The minute Qhuinn dropped the name Xhex, the piece of mountain at the door snapped to attention and spoke into his earpiece. A split second later he stepped aside. “She wants you in the back. VIP. You know the way?”
“Yeah. Sure,” Qhuinn said as he slipped the guy a handshake.
The bouncer put something in his pocket. “You come here again, I’ll let you right in.”
“Thanks, man.” Qhuinn clapped the guy on the shoulder and disappeared into the club, smooth as anything.
John followed, not even trying to pull off Qhuinn’s swagger. Which was a good thing. As he headed in through the door, he hit the step up wrong, listed to port, then fell backward as he fought to stay upright, slamming into a guy in the wait line. The man, who had his back to the door because he was hitting on a chick, wheeled around, all pissed off.
“What the f—” The guy froze as he looked at John, his eyes popping. “Ah, yeah…my bad. Sorry.”
John faltered at the reaction until he felt Blay’s hand land on the back of his neck. “Come on, John. Let’s go.”
John let himself get led inside, bracing for the onslaught of the club’s vibe, ready to get lost in the crush of people. It was funny, though. As he looked around, everything seemed less overwhelming. Then again, he was measuring the crowd from a vantage point of about six-foot-seven.
Qhuinn looked around. “To the back. Where the hell is the back?”
“I thought you knew?” Blay said.
“Nah. Just didn’t want to come off as an idiot—Wait, I think we have a winner.” He nodded to a roped-off area that had two huge guys standing in front of it. “That just screams VIP. Ladies, shall we?”
Qhuinn walked over like he knew exactly what he was doing, said two words to the bouncer, and whaddaya know, the rope was down and the three of them were parading in.
Well, Blay and Qhuinn were parading. John was trying not to run into anyone else. He’d lucked out that the guy at the door had been some kind of pansy. Next time he’d probably manage to land on a hit man. Who was armed.
The VIP section had its own private bar and bartenders, and its waitresses were dressed like high-class strippers, showing a lot of skin as they went around on a lot of heel. The male patrons were all in suits, the women in expensive bits of nothing much. It was a fast, flashy crowd…that made John feel like a total poser.
There were banquettes on both sides of the room, three of which were open, and Qhuinn picked the one farthest back, in the corner.
“This is the best,” he pronounced. “Next to the emergency exit. In the shadows.”
There were two martini glasses on the tabletop, but they sat down anyway, and a waitress came over to clear. Blay and Qhuinn ordered beers. John passed, thinking he needed to stay tight tonight.
They’d been chilling for no less than five minutes, Blay and Qhuinn barely getting a start on their Coronas, when they heard a female voice say, “Hey, daddies.”
All three of them looked up at the blond Wonder Woman standing in front of them. She was a knockout in a very Pam Anderson kind of way, more breast than anything else.
“Hey, baby,” Qhuinn drawled. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Sweet Charity.” She put both hands on the table and leaned in, flashing her perfect chest and her tanning-salon skin and her gleaming, bleached teeth. “Want to know why?”
“Like I want my next breath.”
She bent down a little farther. “Because I taste good and I’m a giver.”
Qhuinn’s tight smile was all about sex. “Then come over and sit by me—”
“Boys,” came a deep voice.
Oh, Jesus. A huge guy had come up to their table, and John didn’t think it was a good thing. With a beautiful black suit and a pair of hard amethyst eyes and a cropped