“Max.” Savannah reaches over the seat, lightly touching Max’s shoulder. “There’s a package store up ahead. I need to stop and pick up a hostess gift. Athena particularly likes Patron.”
The limo driver nods. “I’ll get it. How much, Mrs. Kensington?”
“A pint. She deserves a gallon for putting on this shindig, but that’s a little overblown to present at the door.”
“We could always have a keg delivered around back. It would give Dale an excuse to escape,” Lucas puts in with a grin. “SEALs tend to like to supervise and inspect all sealed packages.”
“As helpful as that is,” Savannah said dryly, “I don’t think they sell Patron in kegs.”
“Will any of Dale’s SEAL friends be there?” Dana asks, a mischievous grin crossing her face.
“I think you better become a lot less interested in that.” Peter gives her knee a squeeze.
“Just looking out for Rachel. She has a thing for SEAL booty too. She’s always checking out Max’s—”
“Don’t get me into trouble.” Rachel aims a kick across the aisle and connects, earning a yelp from Dana. “I don’t look at it any more than anyone else. Plus, Janet said we could look as much as we wanted, as long as we didn’t touch.”
“We?” Lucas echoes, slanting a narrow look at his wife. “Matt, I think we need to end these monthly girl get-togethers.”
“As if you could,” Dana snorts.
“I think it’s time to change the subject,” Savannah interjects. “Before Max’s ears get any redder.”
Dana leans over Peter, putting a knee in his lap so she can stretch out and put her hands on their driver’s ears. “Yep. They’re warm. Ouch.” Peter lands a solid smack on her pert, lifted bottom in the tight leather and seats her firmly back beside him again.
“Behave, Sergeant,” he said.
Max pulls over with a look of relief, though I see resigned amusement tugging at his distracting mouth. It’s obvious how fond he is of everyone in the limo, but particularly the women so often in his charge. I notice he doesn’t volunteer the information I’m sure he already knows, that one of Dale’s friends would in fact be there as my escort. He’s leaving it to me to share that little tidbit with the women when the time is right.
Several of the males, including Peter, Jon and Ben, opt to get out, Peter and Jon wanting to make some purchases for later and Ben to stretch his legs and advise them. Though he’s apparently laid off his alcohol consumption since last I saw him, he’s still their go-to guy for the best choices in that department. I decide to get out as well, thinking that Lisa and I might like to have a late night glass of wine when we get back to the hotel. We’ll probably go through a whole bottle, just discussing the limo ride.
As I get out, I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. In this company, I’m not concerned about the seedy location or NOLA’s more colorful characters, but when I glance that way, I find my gaze caught. My first thought is this man is not seedy in the least, but he is totally, in-all-the-right-ways dangerous. Glancing back at the limo, I catch Marcie’s eye through the limo window that she’s lowered and direct her attention that way. She follows my glance, and her own eyes widen. She speaks inside the limo and several other female faces appear as they lean forward for a better look.
Squatting against the brick wall of the building, the man is wearing faded jeans that fit in all the right ways and a snug T-shirt that etches out a powerful upper body. His tousled dark hair, stubbled jaw and intense midnight blue eyes complete the picture. As we exit the vehicle, his attention moves to us, and I recognize the expression of a male used to evaluating threats. I also note it seems like he’s guarding the alleyway entrance.
I’m not surprised to see he immediately attracts the attention of the males who have emerged from the car, because they’re the type of men who also stay aware of threats. There are the expected glances toward me to determine my location, the only woman out of the car, but Marcie steps out, as if she anticipates a threatening situation as well. Ben shoots her a look, which she ignores. The stranger shifts his gaze to her, takes a good long look and whistles. “Nice costume, Selene.”
“See,” Marcie tells Ben. “He’s not a threat. He watches movies.”
Peter snorts at that, but he’s touched Matt’s shoulder, and nods in a significant way toward the male. It’s then I see what Peter is pointing out. As the man in jeans straightens to his feet, it’s obvious that under his battered bomber jacket, he also has a gun.
It’s not only the men who are sharp-eyed. I hear Savannah say something, and then Max has emerged from the car.
Though he steps into a position to handle any threat that requires weapons, I realize Matt is the one positioned at the tip of the phalanx. He holds the gaze of the other man with his measuring dark eyes, two predators gauging intent.
At that moment, another male emerges from the alley. Slightly taller and leaner, but there’s a wave of danger coming from him that honestly eclipses every one present, and that says a lot, given the formidable display of testosterone on both sides. It’s clear the two men are together, though, from the way the other man doesn’t even turn, as if he feels him coming up behind him. When the new arrival adjusts his duster, I see a flash of steel. Did I just see…a sword? To hell with grabbing the wine. I’m going to need a bottle of that Patron for later instead.
While I’m not sure if it’s reassuring or not, the blue-eyed male doesn’t seem overly concerned by anything happening. He’s now noticed my costume and grins. “Two Kates. Any man’s fantasy.” He nudges the man in the duster. “You know, Selene does her kickass vampire thing in corset and heels. Way more impressive than you. Just like Ginger Roger says.”
The male in the duster rolls his eyes, but then the one with blue eyes turns his attention to the sword Peter has in the back harness. His mouth quirks. “Does it unsheathe, or has Hasbro pussied out and made it so it’s only for show, afraid a kid might hack himself to death with plastic?”
Peter nods coolly toward the other male. “He shows me his, I’ll show you mine.”
“Mine is not for show,” the taller male says. He meets Matt’s gaze then, and his hand closes over his companion’s broad shoulder. “Our business here is concluded. We are no threat to you and yours.”
“Yeah. You’re not.” Ben interjects. Though I don’t think he’d intended it, in the show of teeth that often happens when males are facing off, he reveals the fangs. Perhaps because he’s not consciously doing it, it actually comes off impressively scary.
The male in jeans merely blinks. “You tangle with me, Drac, you’ll get your pretty clothes dirty.”
“Ben,” Matt says, putting a quelling hand on his lawyer’s shoulder, in a manner similar to the way the other male has restrained his own companion, except for one key component. The other man still has his hand on the man in the bomber jacket, and I’m almost sure there’s a level of intriguing sexual intimacy. I hear him murmur the male’s name. “Gideon.”
Watching this Gideon and his male companion interact together has male/male fantasy written all over it, at least for me. I could use a napkin, tissue—possibly even a drop cloth—because I have a feeling I’m drooling all over myself.
The mild reproof seems to rein back the blue-eyed male’s predilection for poking an angry bear, but he glances at the one in the duster. “C’mon, it’s near Halloween. Show him yours. It’ll be fun.”
The dark-eyed one gives him an exasperated look, but then his lips part. In that moment, it feels like a cold wind sweeps across the sidewalk. His eyes seem to grow…darker. I know it’s my imagination, it must be, because the whites disappear. But the fangs are really what catch my attention and I find myself forgetting to breathe.
“Did they just…grow?” Marcie whispers it to me, her eyes widening as the man in faded jeans grins. He gives Ben a small salute.
“Amateurs,” he sneers. Then he and the other male are gone, disappearing into the alleyway. Everyone stands for a moment, not entirely sure what’s just happened. Max moves forward to the alley entrance, goes a few steps in, backed up by both Peter and Ben. All three return with puzzled looks.
“They’re gone,” Max reports to Matt. “No doors or exits, but they’re gone.”
“Fuck, it’s probably some of those Anne Rice nuts,” Ben says.
“No doubt. Let’s get our booze and go.” Matt directs them to make their purchases, but all of them stay watchful until they’re back in the car. Ben pulls Marcie down on his lap, giving her a hard kiss and a stern look.
“I’m never going to teach you to behave, am I?”
“Not if you need backup.” She puts her arms around him, snuggling down in his lap. She stretches her legs out so they’re braced against Dana’s thigh, and Dana gives her booted feet a fond squeeze.
“That goes for all of us, you bunch of Neanderthals,” the petite Blade sidekick says. “If Savannah hadn’t told Max to get out, you would have been bringing a plastic sword to a gunfight.”
Peter’s brow furrows. “It looked like he was carrying a katana.”
“Shades of Adrian Paul. There can be only one…” Cass intones, setting off a wave of laughter, easing the tensions of the past few moments.
Shortly thereafter, we’re pulling into the plantation’s driveway. The house is alive with lights, a party well underway.
“Overprotective, chivalrous,” Savannah murmurs to her husband, but there is a smile in her voice as she looks up at the man she loves.
“Sexist, caveman. I know.” He flashes the fangs at her. “But you wouldn’t have your creatures of the night any other way.”
”Savannah, I have to agree with Matt on this one.” I say it with a smile as I look around at everyone. “The night is young and the party is just getting started. As Frank Langella says in Dracula: ‘The night is made to enjoy life and love’, and that is my wish for all of you tonight, and every night to come, whether or not you have your fangs on.’”
I am saluted with various wine glasses and chocolate strawberries, and a host of fond looks. And on that note, Max opens the door. As he takes my hand to help me out of the limo, I suddenly hear all the K&A men say, “Delilah.” When I turn my head to look at them, they’ve all bared their fangs. In unison, they exclaim, “We vwant to drink your blood!”
A huge smile crosses my face and laughter fills the limo. As we disembark, I already know this will be the best “Howl”oween Ball ever!
**********
I want to thank you all for spending the week with myself and the Knights and hope that you have enjoyed the "Howl"oween Limo Ride as much as I have! This idea started when I was shooting the breeze with Joey one day about doing a Halloween Character Interview with the K&A men. Before you knew it we had them sporting fangs and Daegan and Gideon were in the picture. What could be better than bringing two of Joey's all-time fan favorites, the Knights of the Boardroom and the delicious duo of Daegan and Gideon from her Vampire Queen series, together if only for one night! Joey, I can never thank you enough for turning this little dream of mine into a reality! I appreciate all the time, energy and hard work you put into the "Howl"oween Limo Ride and I want to thank you for letting me contribute to it and put my special Delilah touches on the Interview. This was by far the most fun I have had in a long time! Happy "Howl"oween Everyone! Delilah xoxo
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