I nodded.

"All of them?"

"Yup. What's your name?" I asked.

"Jofranka." She looked away, seeming embarra.s.sed at being asked. "Just Jo is fine."

"I'm Amber." I started to put my hand out and then looked at it. Maybe not. But the dirt didn't put her off; she took my hand and shook it hesitantly.

"Is it all right if I ask questions? 'Cos they say I ask too many."

I bit my tongue to stop myself asking where the h.e.l.l they had gotten that idea from. I kept my face serious as I slid the old alternator out. "I can't promise to answer all of them."

The floodgates opened.

In the coc.o.o.n of Ops 4-10, you got on and did what you had to and forgot how some people were outside. Gender wasn't an excuse you could use, nor was it a reason that they'd expect less of you. Jo hadn't had that. She was bright and cheerful, once she stopped being shy, but she just seemed to have picked up a can't-do-that att.i.tude about herself and women in general.

She was Rom's niece, and his house or shop was where she had to spend most of her days when she wasn't at school. I didn't know what her own home life was like, but I got a sense of why Rom wanted her to talk to me and have her see me doing things for myself. I hoped I did some good. I nearly made her miss her bus. She checked when I was going to come back and flew out the door as I was finishing up.

I'd had my head up my backside, worrying about the colonel and what was happening to me. None of that was useful. Jofranka had pulled me out of it and made me feel good about myself. Even Top would have smiled. I hoped she'd be around when I came back to work on the fuel pump.

I put the tools back and dropped the hood.

Rom slid back out from his hiding place under the Honda. He'd been laughing so hard, there were tears on his cheeks.

"Oh, man, you done good! I owe you," he gasped, wiping his face with his forearms.

"Oh, no. We agreed." I handed over the money despite his protests. But a seed of an idea had sprouted earlier. I was missing something for the event at the club tonight; that something was an arrival. I needed to make an impression to be sure I got in.

"Okay," I said, "I'll trade a favor, if you're free later."

"Yeah, can do. What's up?"

"I need to get into a club tonight. It's real difficult, even with the right looks. What I need is to arrive with some drama."

Rom looked over at his pickup, puzzled, but I shook my head and explained what I wanted him to do.

"You sure?" he said.

"Yup. I'll need you to pick me up a block away from the club and drop me off at the door. I'll make my own way back."

"Okay." He laughed again. "Crazy. Deal."

Chapter 5.

Being down in Aurora worked out well. Mom lived just a few minutes away, and I was running out of time.

"Mom, hi, can't stop."

"Amber! What a lovely surprise. Are you sure you can't stay for coffee?" I gave her a hug, and she pulled me inside.

"No, I'm sorry, I have-"

"Are you feeling all right? You did hear me say coffee, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mom, but I have to get to the mall before they close."

"And shopping too? There's definitely something wrong. Do you have a fever? Or did you just run out of fruit?"

"Mom!" I'm twenty-nine, and I've lived away from home for eleven years, but mothers have some secret magic that turns the clock way back.

"You know, dear, you haven't used that tone with me since you were a teenager. I miss it so." She herded me into the living room and took pity on me. "All right, what is it?"

"You know that pillbox hat and veil you have? Can I borrow it, please?"

"Oh goodness, dressing up, as well? You sit there and I'll call the hospital right now." She smiled at my expression and relented. "I'll go get it."

She returned with the hat, still in its presentation box. It was a sweet little thing with a black net veil hanging halfway down the face. Actually, I wanted to wear it like I wanted to nail it to my head, but it looked the part.

"Off you go, but you're coming for lunch on Sunday. Bring it back then."

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Then you can tell me all about it. Who was there and so on."

Big emphasis on the 'who.' I was going to have a tough time on Sunday refusing to talk about it. But she'd probably get palpitations if I told her where I'd been, and, of course, I couldn't say why I'd gone there. I'd had ten years of not being able to talk to her about what I did in the army, and she'd almost accepted that. Then, I'd left under circ.u.mstances I couldn't tell her about and still, half my life now was secret. And among all the other things, the army wouldn't allow me to get intimate with anyone, in case I was contagious. So, there was no 'who' for me to tell my mother about.

She knew I was holding back, of course.

I watched helplessly as the tension grew, day by day. We were due for an argument. Maybe on Sunday.

I left at a run, and had the pleasure of my mother watching me pull away with the car lurching erratically until the fuel pump picked up.

I barely made it to the Cherry Creek mall in time. The Neumann store had a promotion going on in the cosmetics department. 'Challenge us,' the sign said. 'Give us your face and thirty minutes and we'll give you a new you.'

I intended to take them up on that, if I got there before the cutoff. I could do makeup, of course, I have the double X chromosome. But when I wanted it done right, I got an expert.

"Challenge you," I said, rapping my knuckles on the counter.

The a.s.sistant looked at me and then meaningfully at the clock on the wall. By my reckoning, there were thirty minutes and about ten seconds left before closing.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, which meant she wasn't sorry at all, but if she could keep me talking for ten seconds, she could turn me away. Either she wanted to get off work early or she liked the feeling of power she got from refusing me.

Her life was saved by her manager.

"I'll take this," she said, ushering her a.s.sistant away and sitting down opposite me with a big box of cosmetics and a broad smile. "Now, what's the look we're going for?"

I couldn't stop myself from glaring. I so did not appreciate the irony of this, but I knew I needed to look the part to get into the club tonight.

"Vampire," I said. And I got it. Angry vampire.

Chapter 6.

Rom was as good as his word. I had half expected he wouldn't show up and I'd have to drive the rest of the way, but I didn't have to worry. Shortly after ten that evening, a block away from Club Agonia, his Harley pulled in behind my parked Ford.

He'd joked he didn't have a chauffeur uniform, but I didn't want that. He was in his heavy biker jacket and studded jeans tucked into steel-toed work boots. His wavy hair was combed back by the wind. Perfect.

"Hey, Amber, you sure 'bout this?" He looked to the side, not meeting my eye. "I asked around. This's not a good place, this club."

"I know. I'm not going there for fun." I patted his arm. "Now, how the h.e.l.l do we do this?"

In a couple of minutes, we were set. I was wrapped in my long velvet cloak and perched uncomfortably behind him, riding sidesaddle. I had my arms around him, holding tight. I had no intentions on anyone that night, but it felt far too good, feeling his heat soak through my gloves while the seat buzzed me wickedly from below. Motorbikes are real bad news for celibates.

Rom brought the Harley around the block, the engine barely muttering at that speed. As we approached, he twisted the throttle until we got more of a snarl, as if he were going to shoot past. Then he slammed the back brake on and spun us around in the middle of the road with a shriek of tires.

Every head outside the club came up.

I stepped off and casually hit him on the shoulder to dismiss him, as we'd agreed. He gunned the engine and roared back down the road, front wheel lifting clear.

I waited till the sound of the bike died. I'd certainly got their attention. Could I carry this off?

h.e.l.l, yeah. I summoned up all the brash confidence I'd learned in Ops 4-10.

I could hear Instructor Ben-Haim's coaching about disguise-The persona you adopt is a sh.e.l.l, a dead thing, a shadow. Pour yourself into this sh.e.l.l. Your life glows. You light up the persona. You shine through the sh.e.l.l, and people see the persona as a living thing. They don't see you.

I freaking owned this d.a.m.n club. I prowled, slowly and deliberately, towards the door, ignoring the line of people waiting hopefully. It was unthinkable that I would join them.

As I came into the light, I eased the cloak open and pushed the hood back. My arms were sheathed in elbow-length black gloves.

The dress I'd found at Candy's was a 1920s knee-length, backless, black c.o.c.ktail dress with sequins. Beneath that I wore black tights and half-boots. My mom's hat sat to one side of my head and the veil hung down, not obscuring my wonderful vampire makeup at all. I couldn't quite sparkle, if that's what they were expecting, but I slunk up to the door, shimmering in the lights.

Okay, so I lied a little when I spoke to Rom earlier. I hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Being in the police was very worthy, of course. It just wasn't the same as being on a solo mission and all that went with that.

The bouncer silently opened the barrier and I stalked through, letting the cloak float. The mission was green-I was in.

Or so I thought.

I checked the cloak in the lobby and stood for a minute in confusion, looking for a door into the club. I could certainly hear it, but apart from the light in the check-in clerk's cubicle, the lobby was dark. Opposite the cubicle, where I expected the door to be, there was a floor-to-ceiling carved head of a sleeping man, face slack and eyes closed beneath a Neanderthal brow.

On instinct, I walked toward the face. There had to be something there.

As I approached, machinery engaged with a thunk. The brow started to rise. Huge eyes opened, staring madly, spilling yellow light over me, and finally the mouth started to gape.

The air from the club wafted out like hot breath, and the noise of the music shook my bones.

I walked forward on the tongue. It was slightly rubbery and wobbly beneath my feet.

Gross.

The throat deposited me right at the edge of the dancing.

The club had a top of the line sound and light system, and the full crowd inside were enjoying themselves. It was exactly what it depicted on the website; it attracted niche clientele and it catered well for them. There was more leather than a whole ranch of cows and enough metalwork in people's faces to make a combine harvester.

I'd been in quieter riots.

The churn of dancers threw a couple against me. They were moving together roughly in time with the music, which was more than I could say for the threesome I bounced off as I staggered back.

A girl with black leather boots up to her crotch and wearing no more than a wide belt as a skirt was stuck between two guys in vampire costumes.

She saw me and flung out a hand. "Hey, pretty vamp, give me a hand here," she yelled. I didn't think she was entirely joking, but she wasn't getting my hand, or any other part of me.

"You got in there, you get yourself out," I yelled back.

"b.i.t.c.h," she mouthed amiably at me as the guy bit her neck. She wasn't in any particular danger. It was all fake fangs, all pretend and show.

I'd come here for the Blood Orchid Market, and if it was just a vampire theme night at a hot club, that was okay by me.

I fought my way around the crowd and made it to the bar. There were all sorts of scents in here, but nothing that said real vampire to me.

I found a quieter spot eventually and leaned against the bar, sipping a soda.

The whole place was done in black gla.s.s: walls, ceiling, even the floor. Expensive, bulletproof gla.s.s, the kind they use in the floors of observation towers that people can jump up and down on. Each huge panel was rimmed with shiny steel and seemed to suck light in. The gla.s.s gave me the creeps for some reason.

The bar was at the far end from the entrance. In front of me, the dance floor heaved like a herd stampeding. On the right, the DJ was set up against a structure covered in scored metal that reflected lights and shapes.

I pictured the layout of the building.

That structure took up a whole lot of room. The way it came out at an angle above the DJ was odd. Maybe there was a set of stairs inside, going up to the next floor? They hadn't been in the plans the colonel had given me.

There were two more floors. The original stairs had been against the wall, and there was no sign of them now. Okay, so that was almost certainly a set of stairs behind the DJ.

If this was the dance floor, what went on upstairs? If there were vampires in the club, would they come down and dance, or would I need to go up and find them?