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Baer suddenly blushed and cleared his throat. “Oh. Yeah. Right,” he muttered.
“What? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Dane demanded, his voice becoming louder.
Clay cringed, praying Dane hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention to them. “Just get to the Jeep and have the motor running.”
“What are you going to do?”
“No clue,” Clay admitted. Whatever he did, it had to be enough to capture the attention of all the pestilents and humans in the night club.
Baer grabbed Dane’s arm and started to pull him out of the booth, but the handyman gripped the edge of the table and turned his heated glare on Clay.
“What the fuck is going on? I’m not leaving you alone if these guys want to kill you.”
“It’ll be fine. They’re never going to touch me,” Clay replied, trying to give Dane his most confident smile even if he didn’t quite feel it.
Dane’s gaze hardened, and all Clay’s hopes of getting laid, even the idea of feeling Dane’s dick on his tongue tonight, went up in a puff of angry smoke. Dane didn’t appreciate being coddled and sidelined, but Clay refused to take any chances with his life. Dane wasn’t equipped to handle this shit. Fuck, Clay was barely equipped for it, considering he was still struggling with his powers.
Sliding out of the booth to his feet, Dane shot him one last parting glare. Oh, Clay was going to be hearing about this shit later…assuming he survived whatever nonsense he managed to cook up so they could all escape.
As Dane and Baer started toward the largest cluster of people near the bar, Clay pulled out one of the hundred-dollar bills Flo had given him and tossed it on the tabletop. It had to cover what they drank and possibly some of the trouble he was about to cause. He glanced at the empty stage, and his heart gave an uncomfortable flutter in his chest. It was the easiest way to capture everyone’s attention.
Clay pushed to his feet when Baer gave him a small nod. His knees threatened to wobble, but he straightened and clenched his teeth. Clay didn’t like being the center of attention. He had to tell himself that he’d never see these people again. He was doing it for Dane and Baer. This would help them get to safety.
How he was going to escape…well, that was an entirely different matter he’d have to figure out next.
Clay took one step and some guy surged out of the crowd, jumping up onto the stage and the bright spotlight. His heart skipped in his chest, and Clay’s gaze jerked over to Baer, who was looking just as confused.
The man was tall and slender with a square jaw and eyes that looked pale in the bright light. His dark hair was cut short and looked damp from sweat. He licked his lips and his eyes darted over the crowd. His empty hands trembled at his sides, and Clay was sure this stranger was easily as nervous about being in front of people as Clay had been feeling.
As the man’s eyes swept back over the crowd, their gazes locked for a second, and Clay gasped. It was like being kicked in the chest by a mule. He knew this man. Knew him like he knew Baer.
Was…was this man one of the lost Weavers? A brother?
Jo had said another was close, but that had been days ago. There had been no sign of the guy as far as he and Baer knew.
Were they drawn to each other the same way the pestilents seemed to be drawn to them?
Well, that couldn’t be answered now, regardless. They needed to tackle one problem at a time, and the bigger one was the infestation of pestilents that was now stinking up the club.
The stranger stared at him, and it felt like he was asking some silent question Clay couldn’t quite figure out. Clay could only nod. But it was enough.
The shared stare was broken, and the guy grinned at the audience that quieted as it waited for him to do whatever the fuck he was planning to do.
“Good evening, everyone! My name is Grey, and this is my first time to The Backdoor Club,” the man said in a voice loud enough to carry to the very rear of the room over the low murmur of conversation. Clay glanced around to see that the club’s security team was already mobilizing, moving swiftly and carefully through the crowd of people to get to the interloper on the stage.
Clay slowly turned, trying to track the pestilents in the crowd as well. He’d managed to locate at least five, but there had to be more. Their numbers were growing each time he encountered them. He suspected it was a direct result of Clay and Baer finding each other, possibly even them getting their powers.
