"Don't mind the stage shows." His gaze raked me again, and he licked his lips. I couldn't smell his excitement. Couldn't smell anything except that overriding, unwashed, boozy scent. "Don't like all the table attention, though."

"It's part of our job to talk to all the customers." My gaze moved past the grumpy old fart as one of the money men moved in our direction. The various club tills were regularly cleared out of big notes-a result, I'm told, of the club being hit by robbers within the first few weeks of its opening. If he was heading this way, then maybe the vaults were behind door number one rather than any sort of secret magic chambers.

"Just as it's a part of your job to wrangle money out of them," the old guy said. "But you ain't wrangling anything out of me, young lady, so you might as well not waste your time."

I shoved on my shoe and switched feet. "As soon as my feet stop aching, I'll leave you in peace."

"Well if you wore sensible shoes, sore feet wouldn't be a problem."

"Sensible shoes aren't pretty," I said, my attention more on the guard than on what the old guy was saying. The money handler had reached the door, and the camera above me whined as it began to rotate. I glanced up, watching it do a complete circuit of the club. Only when it had finished did the guard press his hand, then his eye, against the scanners.

There was a pause, then several clicks, before the door opened ponderously. I leaned sideways a little to catch a glimpse of the hallway beyond, and saw the old guy do the same.

Saw his intent expression.

And knew, without a doubt, that it was Kye.

I'd seen that intentness too often now to mistake it.

Why I wasn't getting that surge of awareness I had no idea, but right now, that wasn't important. Seeing what was beyond that door was.

I leaned further, placing a hand on his leg to support myself. Felt the muscle and the strength underneath the stained and ratty pants, as well as a surge of electricity and awareness that just about short-circuited every sense I had. I hadn't been wrong. This was definitely Kye.

"You owe me a hundred," I said softly, making it look like I was whispering sweet nothings when all the time I was eyeing the hallway.

It wasn't much. Just a short, concreted area that led to another large door, this one metal. A vault, not a sorcerer's secret place of mischief.

The guard shifted and I flicked my gaze to Kye, who was looking at me like I was nuts.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, still sounding like a man who drank and smoked too much. A voice modulator, obviously.I slipped my shoe back on and rose. "Of course you do," I said, stepping past him then stopping to add softly, "and that door is not our target. Meet me in the sports bar at eleven."

He didn't check his watch. Didn't do anything but scowl at me. I smiled and headed for the stage to do my floor show.

By the time I'd finished, Kye had gone, but that didn't surprise me. With the first door out of contention, he'd probably already moved into position to check out door number two.

I could only hope he stank less when I found him again, or I wasn't going to be able to talk to him long, let alone do the promised lap dance.

Although now that he knew I was onto him, he might very well change his look. He might be on the prowl for his targets, but I didn't think he was above providing a challenge in the process.

For the next few hours, I continued my shift in the main room, chatting up customers, giving them lap dances, earning money, and fending off the occasional grab. When I'd finished my second stage show, I headed to the staff lounge for my break and to eavesdrop on the local gossip. To date, the topic of conversation had consisted mainly of b.i.t.c.hing about the customers and very occasionally about other dancers. I was sipping my coffee and only half listening when one of the busty blondes said, "G.o.d, wasn't the boss in a b.i.t.c.h of a mood last night? I'm glad she hasn't turned up tonight."

The other blonde-who I only knew by her stage name, Sammy-snorted softly. "I could hear her screaming all the way down in the dressing rooms. Do you know what happened?"

The blonde sniffed. "Rumor is that she had a special lined up and the girl didn't appear. She took her frustrations out on a customer in another room and beat him up pretty bad."

"One lawsuit coming up." Sammy shook her head, though her expression was one of amus.e.m.e.nt more than disgust. "I thought she'd given up dancing."

"Apparently she likes to keep her hand in." The blonde hesitated, then leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "She likes the younger ones, so she's always on hand to help out when we have some young bucks in."

"She can have the young ones. They're all hands and no d.a.m.n cash. Was an ambulance called?"

"No. And the cops didn't show, either, so it couldn't have been more than a few slaps."

"So why did they shut the room down? It's been out of action all day, apparently."

I continued to look at the paper, but I wasn't really reading anything. Instead, I reached out telepathically, linking lightly with the blonde's mind. I delved stealthily but deeply into her memory centers, fishing though quickly until I caught the images she was talking about. I wrapped around them, drawing them into me, remembering them as she remembered-not only seeing and hearing, but smelling.

What I smelled was blood. Lots of blood.

Hanna Mein hadn't injured. She'd killed.

So, did that mean the couple she'd slaughtered had been nothing more than a last-minute subst.i.tution for the special that had been canceled? Or had they been just another release for the anger, as the man she'd danced for-then killed-had been?

I continued to sort through the blonde's memories, but she hadn't actually seen anything. She'd been stopped at the doorway, and had gotten the information from the guard stationed there.

I withdrew and flipped over the page as I took a sip of coffee.The blonde shrugged. "It was due for refurbishment. Now there's a new chaise lounge and a fresh coat of paint on the walls."

She glanced at her watch and rose. "I get to christen the new surrounds in five minutes."

"Give him h.e.l.l and make him pay," Sammy said with a grin.

"Always do, love, always do." The blonde dropped a kiss on the other woman's cheek then walked out.

I finished my coffee, rinsing the bitter dregs in the sink before heading down to the change rooms to get into my other outfit for the evening-a soft striped silk that looked like something a jockey would wear, except that it didn't fully cover my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Every time I raised my arms even slightly, out the girls popped. And even though there were plenty of women walking around without covering tops of any kind, the outfit had proven to be extremely popular with the guys despite its impracticality.

The sports bar was half full, which wasn't bad considering it was a Monday night. There were a heap of men sitting at the tables near the big screen, watching some boxing match, but there were many others playing pool or simply chatting with various dancers at the other tables. The name of the game in this room wasn't pool or chatting, but getting the customers to spend money on drinks, or interested enough to spend big in the fantasy rooms.

I scanned the room as I walked around the edge, looking for Kye in his grumpy old man outfit. Not a sign of him. Which meant either he wasn't here, or he'd changed, and I was betting on the latter.

I was three quarters of the way around the room when awareness of Kye washed over me-a short, sharp caress that was gone almost as fast as it had arrived. I turned and saw a spiky-haired blond man walk into the room and then stand, arms crossed, in the shadows near the door, his gaze on the big screen.

He looked totally different than before. Gone was the ratty coat, the slouched stance, and almost grimy appearance. In its place stood a broad-shouldered, muscular man wearing faded, hip-hugging denims and a crumbled, pale pink shirt that suited his golden skin and bleached hair. He looked more like a builder than a hit man, and even though I couldn't deny the surge of attraction, that was the one thing I couldn't ever forget-that he was a hit man. That he was extremely dangerous.

I stepped out of the shadows. The minute I did, he shot a glance my way. This time his eyes were green, and they gleamed like the brightest emeralds in the half-light of the bar.

There was nothing warm about his gaze, nothing friendly about the way it latched onto me, and yet the shiver that ran over me was all heat, all desire. Maybe it was simply the danger he represented that pulled at me so fiercely. The feeling that every minute I spent with him could be my last. That no matter how strong I was, no matter how fast, this man could counter it. That he would counter it, if I ever got in the way of his aims.

Danger was an aphrodisiac to a wolf, and my wolf was reacting to it as fiercely as she ever had.

"You're looking like a man who needs to play some pool," I said softly as I stopped beside Kye and touched his arm. The contact was as electric as ever, and only served to confirm his ident.i.ty.

A smile flirted with his lips, then he glanced past me. "There's a table available over there." He nodded toward the locked and guarded side door. It wasn't the only spare table, of course, but it best suited our purpose. "How about we take that?"

"Perfect." I tucked my arm through his, letting my hips brush against his as we walked. Tension rose between us-all s.e.xual- until it fairly crackled.

The guard didn't even look at us as we stopped at the table. His scent said he was human, so he wouldn't overhear any conversations as long as we kept it low.

Like all the other guards in this place, he was wearing a wire, but there was also what looked to be a small two-way radio hanging around his ear. Every now and again he'd murmur something, and the camera would react by moving.It wouldn't have surprised me if they were monitoring conversations, so we'd have to keep an eye on the camera position to make sure it wasn't pointed our way. And while we could talk telepathically, that would look suspicious to anyone who might be watching.

"So what happened to the old man?" I asked softly as Kye racked up the b.a.l.l.s.

"He's laying in a rubbish bin as we speak." He picked up the cues and handed me one. "You going to break?"

I glanced up at the odd emphasis he placed on "break" and saw the teasing, almost mocking, light in his green eyes. I arched an eyebrow. "I never break unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Really?" he drawled. "Maybe I should test that little statement."

I took the cue from him, then leaned a little closer and whispered, "This from the man who absolutely didn't want a lap dance."

"Oh, I still don't. But then, I'm not the one aching from head to foot, am I?"

"Oh, really?" I chalked the end of the cue then bent over right in front of him, so that my b.u.t.t casually brushed his groin. The man was definitely understating his current state of desire.

"That sure feels like a whole lot painful to me," I murmured, drawing the cue back and sending the little white ball spinning into the others. Colored b.a.l.l.s scattered everywhere, none of them going into the pockets. The cue ball come to rest close to where I was standing, so I remained where I was, forcing him to come closer.

"I think we need to check out one of the private rooms," I said. My breath hitched as he casually lined up the shot and his fingers brushed past my side.

"And why would we need to do that if you're in no danger of breaking?"

He eyed his chosen target rather than me, and I waited until he was about to play the shot before saying, "Because Hanna Mein killed someone in the Arabian room last night, and I think we need to check it out."

His shot didn't miss a solid ball, but it didn't send one into a pocket, either. I smiled.

He stood back and chalked his cue. "And how is what she did in the Arabian room related to what we're interested in achieving?"

I shifted slightly and lined up the ball sitting near the far corner pocket. "Because if someone did die, then the body is either still concealed in that room or there's another way in or out. No one saw anything resembling a body leaving the club."

I went for the shot, but a second before the cue tip hit the ball, his hand snaked down my back and b.u.t.t, a caress so light and yet so heated that it practically singed.

Needless to say, I missed the ball.

He moved around to the other side of the table and began to line up the same ball I had. "That still doesn't explain the connection to our current case."

"Don't be obtuse."

He smiled and drew back the cue. I waited until the last possible moment, then shifted my arms so that my top rode up my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and leaned over the table, giving him an eyeful.

He missed the ball even worse than I did.He swore under his breath, then said, "So you think this hidden doorway could lead to one or both of our sorceresses?"

"They haven't been seen in the club all day."

"Maybe they're simply resting at home."

"Maybe. Except that this place is listed as their residential address as well and given there's not another floor, we're left with the possibility that either they're behind the locked doors, or there's other hidden areas." I quickly lined up the ball and made the hit before he could do anything to distract me. There was a satisfying clunk as it went into the pocket.

"You play dirty," he murmured.

"No dirtier than you, wolf," I returned. "Remember that."

His gaze met mine for several seconds, and it was hard to know what he was actually thinking. And while I could raid his mind, that just might leave me open for a mind raid attack from him. Which shouldn't be possible-given my shields and his lack of telepathy skills-but this wolf kept doing things he wasn't supposed to be able to. Which was a pain in the a.s.s. I had a bad feeling that I really needed to know what was on his mind right now.

When he smiled, it only increased my sudden wariness. "Then I guess I'd better go book that room, hadn't I?"

"I think that's a good idea. We can always come back here if it proves a bust."

"Oh, I'm sure something will bust if we're not very careful." His gaze skated to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and his desire surged, so strong I could almost taste it. "The rooms are monitored, so there isn't going to be much of a chance to look around without raising suspicions."

"Oh, I'm sure a clever wolf such as yourself can do something about the cameras without raising too many suspicions."

I glanced at my watch. A good fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed since I'd been in the staff lounge, so the blonde's appointment in the Arabian room should be finished by now. I hoped no one else had booked it in the meantime.

"I'll see what I can do," Kye murmured.

"Well, you'd better hurry," I said, putting a little tartness in my voice. "I'm a much-in-demand dancer, you know, and someone else just might grab me."

"Then I'd have to beat them up, wouldn't I?"

"That would work," I agreed sagely. "You get thrown out, I get inside the room and investigate without your interference.

Clever."

His smile was cool and calculating. "You're not finishing anything without me, wolf."

And one look into his eyes made me realize he wasn't just talking about the case. A shudder that was half antic.i.p.ation, half fear, rolled through me.

He put down his cue. "I'll go book now, then see what I can do about the cameras."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Meet you there, then." He walked away without a backward glance.

I let out a breath, then smiled at the eager young man who rushed to pick up the abandoned cue and who couldn't have been any older than nineteen. I played out the game, giving him lots of little touches and glimpses of b.r.e.a.s.t.s and b.u.t.t, leaving him flushed and smelling of desire. But he didn't say anything about a dance-either private or lap-so I walked over to the bar.

"Any bookings come through on my card?" I asked the heavy-set bartender.

He pressed a couple of keys on the computer, then nodded. "One for twelve in the Arabian room."

Twelve was a good hour away, so either he was taking time to cool down, or it was going to take him longer than I'd thought to take out the cameras.

"That's it?"

"Yeah, it's been a pretty slow night, although the patrons are drinking well."

Which was good for them, bad for the dancers. "Thanks."

He nodded and served another patron. I turned around, saw two guys playing at the table I'd evacuated, and headed over there to chat them up and keep an eye on the door.