Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian 7)

Probably for the same reason you are. I suspect she's involved with what is going on, but have no proof.

And if he got proof, he'd kill her. I resisted the urge to rub the chill from my arms, although I was no longer sure if the cause was the cold or the man. This wolf might have me in a spin, but he repelled my saner half.>"Thanks for tour," I said.

He nodded, but before he could turn and leave, someone behind us said, "Matthew, why has the schoolroom been cleared of any bookings for tonight and tomorrow night? Is there a problem with it?"

The woman's voice was sharp, almost angry, and for a moment I froze. Not because I feared the sudden rise of tension in the room, but because the voice was all too familiar. This was the woman who'd spoken at the warehouse-the crow who controlled both the zombies and the hellhounds.

Matthew turned around and I followed suit, knowing I had little other choice. If I walked away, it might look odd. But her seeing through the disguise and recognizing me was a distinct danger. She'd have seen me in the old factory when her creature was chasing Joe, and even if crows had bad eyesight at night, Liander hadn't changed my looks that much.

Still, I'd trusted his work in the past and it had never led me astray, so I carefully set my features into a look of cool curiosity.

The woman who'd appeared was small, almost fragile looking, with a shock of black hair and yellow eyes that looked oddly inhuman. Her cheeks were sharp, her nose long and angular, and her mouth thin. Not a woman who smiled much, I thought.

And she was in a wheelchair. Just like the woman who'd confronted Mike.

We had yet another connection.

"There's no problem, Ms. Hardt," Matthew answered. "Hanna told me not to book the room at all. Apparently a special has been requested, but she's not entirely sure what night."

Jessica Hardt-the other owner of Meinhardt's-grunted softly, and something flashed through her eyes. Something that resembled frustration and anger combined. "She didn't mention it to me." Her gaze slipped to me, and she frowned suddenly. "Who are you?"

"CC Buttons, ma'am," I said, suddenly glad I had the modulators. She'd heard my voice in the factory and would have recognized the sound of it.

"She's on trial for tonight," Matthew explained. "Amber's called in sick, and Freddie's been given a week off work, at least."

Jessica continued to frown, her sharp gaze racking the length of me. Her fingers tapped against the arm of he chair, the movements as brusque as her voice. "Do we know each other? Because you look familiar."

"I've only just arrived down in Melbourne, but I have worked other clubs interstate. Perhaps you've seen me onstage sometime?"

"I doubt it." Her gaze went back to Matthew. "Open the schoolroom up for bookings. I'll go talk to Hanna."

And with that, she rolled away. I let go of the breath I'd been holding, and glanced at Matthew. "What's a special?"

Matthew grimaced. "Usually some dirty old vampire who likes to get his rocks off by watching younger girls simulate sex. They pay big money for the privilege, so Hanna tends to allow it. Jessica doesn't like it, though."

Which made me wonder what else Jessica didn't like. Because there was a tightness about her that suggested a woman very unhappy with something. "How young we talking about?"

"Eighteen. We can't legally allow anyone younger than that, but the girls who do the specials are usually our less experienced dancers."

And I was betting they weren't dancers at all, let alone eighteen. Martin Shore's girlfriend had said he'd met his last lovers here, and that one of them was no where near legal age.

I nodded, then asked, "While I think of it, do you have a stripper named Vicki Keely working here?"

He frowned. "I don't think so. Why?"

I shrugged. "My old boss asked me to say hi if I ever ran into her, that's all."

"Sorry, I don't think she's ever been here. Not that I can remember, anyway."

I reached out mentally, pushing past the nanowire to scan his thoughts. I could see no lie. Which didn't mean Vicki hadn't been here, just that he didn't know about it.

He walked away. I stood there for a moment, drawing in the air, sorting through the various scents for any hint of the magic that had been in the warehouse or the homes of the murdered vampires. Perfume rode the air, almost masking the heavier scent of humans. Someone was having a shower in the bathroom, and in the lounge people talked softly, though it might have been the TV given it was two male voices I could hear.

There was no familiar scent and nothing seemed out of the ordinary or suspicious. Not to my novice-stripper eyes, anyway.

I glanced around the room again, and saw the discreetly placed cameras in the corners. I was being watched, which meant standing here doing nothing wasn't such a good idea. I turned and headed for the costume department. Time to get down to work.

Dancing might have seemed like fun when I was practicing the art with Ben's Amazonian friend, but after eight long hours of dancing in heels and smiling so hard it felt like my face would crack, I was bone tired and ready for sleep.