n by a friend of ours. Later tonight, we’re going to check and make sure you’re there. If not, we come looking for you, and won’t stop until we find you. Got it?”
“That’s it? I just have to spend the night at this do-gooders place?” he asked in disbelief.
“That’s it,” Luc said knowing if Father Brennan couldn’t help this kid, no one could.
“Done,” he agreed, surprised at how easily he was getting off.
Jon sighed. “Come on, kid, let’s get you out of here.”
They waited until the taxi took off before they set out for the upper end of Bourbon Street toward Canal Street where most of the French Quarter’s strip clubs and bars were. They had spent the better part of the night following rumors about a drugged out duo who were working their way up the alleys of the street in the heart of the French Quarter that was primarily known for its bars and strip clubs, a thirteen block smorgasbord for a pair of rogues as Bourbon came alive after dark every day of the week, and kept going until the wee hours of the morning. Live music accompanied the sounds of laughter and partying as they passed restaurants, clubs and bars all brightly lit up and filled with tourists as well as residents, a lot of them hangers on from Mardi Gras.
Luc grinned, pumped from finally having a direction to look as he took in the provocative displays in the windows of some very popular strip joints. “We need to hurry up and smoke these guys. I’m in need of some play time.”
“Right now we need to rid our city of these guys before they can do anymore harm. At least the vampire rumors are easily dismissed. Just one of the benefits of calling the voodoo capital home.”
“Who would’ve thought we’d go from protecting our ranch from Carpetbaggers to protecting drunks, hookers and drug buyers in Sin City? “
“Feeling melancholy, Luc, or so horny you don’t know what you’re saying?” Jon teased him even though he had thought that same thing more than once.
“I’m always horny, so that’s not it. The kid reminded me of us at that age, made me think back to what we were doing when we were fifteen, that’s all. Which place do you want to check out first? I don’t think they’ve left this area yet, not if they’re still on the prowl.”
“Let’s just keep walking. We’ll smell them before we see them.”
Two hours later, both Jon and Luc were seething with frustration. They had been in and out of almost every bar and strip club up and down Bourbon Street to no avail. There was no sign of the two rogues who had spent hours terrorizing those stupid enough, or desperate enough, to find themselves in one of the dirty, dark alleys that separated some of the establishments. On the verge of calling it a night, they both paused outside the door to a bar named the The Down and Dirty.
“What the hell?” Luc swore as his palm started heating up, a tiny pulse making him rub his mark down his jean clad thigh in an effort to stop it.
“You too?” Jon looked at Luc in surprise as he rubbed his hand over his chest, the mark on his palm that had lain dormant his whole life suddenly pulsing with life.
“Son of a bitch. If I’m not mistaken, this means we’re close to our mate.”
“Our mate?” he reiterated with a pleased grin. “You think?”
“I don’t know,” Luc snapped, not at all sure he was ready for a mate even if the possibility of finding one that was compatible to both him and his brother had his cock surging with anticipation. “But if she’s in there,” he nodded toward the door to the Down and Dirty, we better make sure those rogues aren’t anywhere close.”
They both entered the bar wondering what, or who, fate had in store for them.
Chapter Thirteen
“Damn it, this is getting downright irritating,” Caitlin grumbled as she once again reached between her thighs and rubbed the strange crescent shaped red mark that had suddenly appeared a few years ago on the inside of her upper left leg. It had never bothered her before, never itched, didn’t hurt and wasn’t raised, so it didn’t chafe against her jeans. She had it checked by her gynecologist who assured her it was harmless. He said she could have it removed, but it wasn’t the scar that removing it would leave behind that made her reluctant to do so. She had always believed in the motto, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, and had ignored it until about ten minutes ago when it started to tingle with warmth, right before two men who looked like brothers entered her bar and drew her attention.
As if that wasn’t distracting enough, her physical reaction to them was off the charts. She wasn’t a stranger to lusting after a hot guy, but the way her nipples tightened into painful nubs and her pussy filled with so much moisture her panties were clinging damply to her puffy folds was over the top, especially considering her lack of interest in sex the past few years which irritated the hell out of her. Used to being in control, not only of her life, but of her body, she didn’t care for this out of control, desperate response to not one, but two men she had never seen before.
“Caitlin!” Bobby snapped his fingers in front of his boss’s face, trying to get her attention. “We’re behind on orders. What’re you daydreaming about?”
“Nothing,” she answered peevishly. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at her assistant manager. “Don’t ever snap your fingers at me again, you moron, or you’ll find yourself unemployed.”
“Yeah, right,” he snorted, not in the least worried. Bobby had been working in the Down and Dirty, in one capacity or another, for eight years and had made sure he was indispensable to first Dan Jenkins then to Caitlin, who had inherited the bar from Dan after his sudden death two years ago. “Baby, you need me and you know it. Besides,” he patted her cheek lightly, “you love me.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass. Give me those orders.” Caitlin picked up a few of the drink requests left on the polished oak bar top by the waitresses and began mixing drinks, trying to keep her mind, and her eyes, off the two men who were now strolling around the club, their looks intent, as if they were searching for someone.
“You ever seen those two before, Bobby?” she asked, nodding toward the men whose height and size put them above almost every other patron.
“No,” he sighed wistfully. “But little Bob would sure like to get to know them better.”
“Tell your dick it’s not getting near either one,” she growled, not at all sure she was responding jokingly. Where the hell did this possessive streak come from? First she didn’t like how the women were attempting to keep the men’s attention when they would stop to speak to them, now she was irritated over a meaningless remark from her gay friend. She had always been a love ‘em and leave em’ kind of woman, not interested in developing ties to anyone except her friends here at the bar that had been her home since she was fourteen. She had learned the hard way from being raised in the bayous by neglectful, drug dealing, drug addicted parents that she could count on no one but herself. That was until Dan had caught her trying to pick his pocket. She smiled at the memory. Picking his pocket was the smartest thing she had ever done, even if she didn’t know that at the time.
“Oh, that’s where your head was a few minutes ago. Which one?” Bobby asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.