Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5) (8 page)

The guy looked like he’d bitten off more than he could chew, so after Denver shoved him back a step, he reluctantly headed out the main door.

“That’s why I love the hell out of that kid,” Reno said, rising to his feet. “I’ll look into your missing friend and let you know what I find. My questions are rapid-fire, so you might want to warn the girls ahead of time.”

I stood up and lowered my voice. “Maybe I should mention something else.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“I don’t think Skye was the first. Another girl went missing, although none of us saw it. Do you think it’s related?”

He touched a scar on his lip and my eyes roamed down to the bulge beneath his button-up shirt. Leave it to Reno to come to a birthday party armed. “That could be problematic. Someone selling to the black market wouldn’t be dumb enough to strike the same place twice. Give me a call if you find out anything else. Got it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maizy, it’s time to go!” Lexi called out.

Maizy appeared from the right side of the room and ran toward Denver. “Just one more game!”

She approached the machine and looked at it, but she’d given all her money to the jerk.

Denver stepped up behind her, pumped in a few coins, and planted his hands on either side of the machine, becoming a shield while she played her last game. He turned his head, glancing toward the door where the man had gone. I could tell he was itching to go after him, but a good watchdog didn’t leave the woman or child they were guarding to act out a boyish impulse.

While he might have had the maturity of a teenager, Denver was no boy.

That evening at the club, my panther was scratching to get out
. Being a Shifter in the city wasn’t easy when your animal required freedom several times a week. Years ago, I lived in northern Canada. Lots of space for my animal to run, privacy, and yet there was no way for me to earn a good living. There had been times when I had no food to eat for months, but as long as my panther could hunt, her meals would provide for the both of us. I’d reached a point where I had to choose a life for either my panther or myself—there was no happy medium. Either I could live in a shack in the woods—isolated from civilization—or I could move to a city with more Breeds and make a solid income to give myself financial comfort in the years to come.

After I made my decision, I realized it came with sacrifice. It became too dangerous for me to shift anywhere outside my residence. Occasionally I would take an excursion to the rural areas of Texas and let her out for a day or two, just to give her a chance to run hard and get it out of her system, but I couldn’t do that all the time. My boss didn’t give me many consecutive days off, so that left me with shifting in my apartment. A Shifter’s animal respects those that the human half loves, so nothing ever happened between my panther and Misha. But an apartment was a tight fit, and there was always a risk of a human hearing her growl and calling the police. On rare occasions, I’d find scratches on the wall or other signs of restless behavior. I’m sure the music didn’t help calm her, but I kept it on to drown out any sounds she might make.

Maybe if I lived on the Breed side of town, I wouldn’t have to worry about humans, but the possibility of having the wrong person discover my animal was equally terrifying.

Whenever I felt the need to shift, I channeled it into my dance. It made my performances erotic, and tips were plentiful because of the savage look in my eyes and predatory movement of my body.

Club Sin had a long stage with one pole and multicolored spotlights. The smaller stages had poles, but they weren’t hugely popular in bars except with Chitahs, who seemed to enjoy the acrobatic stuff. The big attractions were the elaborate dances performed on the big stage. We occasionally choreographed together and made it something fun, but usually the girls were trying too hard to earn tips, so they preferred coming up with their own moves if they had to share the stage.

Customers enjoyed the girls putting on a show that told a story, and the chairs around the main stage rarely stayed empty. The rest of the club had curved swivel chairs surrounding polished tables. Many Breed clubs were laid out the same to give customers a sense of familiarity and comfort, so the bar ran along the left side of the room. The VIP area on the right was for private parties, and that’s where the girls banked with private lap dances for high-paying customers. No sex went on in our club, although who knew what happened outside the doors? I’d received a number of tempting offers, but no amount of money was worth selling my body like a prostitute. I had enough sense to separate the business from my personal life.

I changed out of my platforms and into a pair of silver heels before heading toward a table in the back where Daphne was slurping on a martini.

“I want that dress,” she said, admiring my tight-fitting black outfit.

“Honey, how are you holding up?”

“Freaking the hell out,” she replied, poking at an olive with her fingernail. “I had a little chitchat with your friend, Reno. I’ve never met a PI, but that’s one
scary
fucking man. I can’t imagine what kind of woman would go for a guy who looks like he eats nails for breakfast.”

I plucked an olive off her napkin and ate it. “He’s a doll. Have you heard anything new?”

She shook her head. “The girls are scared, and Dean’s afraid they’ll start looking for another job. What if this is some maniac stalker? Or maybe someone has a personal grudge against the owner and he’s taking it out on us. What do you think happened to Skye?”

Daphne still had on her stage clothes, including a classy black top made with small rhinestones that she’d borrowed from me. Long beads draped in loops from the sides and connected between the breasts in multiple rows.

“I don’t want to know what happened to her,” she said, not waiting for my answer. “Gives me nightmares just thinking about it. Dean won’t let the bouncers walk us to our cars since he’s more concerned about maintaining order inside, so we’re going to start walking each other out in pairs. When you get ready to leave, just grab one of us. If I could afford a bodyguard, I’d hire one, but it’s probably worthless unless someone was specifically coming after
me
.”

“Do you think it’s random?”

“Those two girls had nothing in common except that they both were Shifters. Different hair colors, body types, ages—it just doesn’t make sense. Don’t serial killers go after girls who look alike?”

“That’s one thing I’m
not
an expert on,” I said with a nervous sigh.

She sipped her drink and got a faraway look in her eyes.

I patted her hand when she set down the glass. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over anything. My friend will look into it, and if there’s anything to be concerned about, you can bet he’ll help us. Just be sure you’re not withholding any information. He’s one of the best.”

“Everyone can’t stop talking about it.”

“The girls need to pull it together or they’re going to scare off the customers,” I said. “Chitahs can smell fear, so that’s not the kind of atmosphere we want to create. Keep them calm and let them know an investigator is looking into it. The last thing we need is a nervous girl getting onstage and shifting into her animal. I’m sure some of the men wouldn’t mind knowing what her animal is, but if she begins attacking customers…”

Her hand flew up. “Jesus, I know. We had an emergency meeting this afternoon about it. Tina took off work because she was literally shaking, and girlfriend, I just happen to know she’s a grizzly bear,” Daphne said with a nervous laugh. “These men would crap their pants if she shifted on stage into that bad motherfucker.” Daphne stood up and straightened her clothes. “I have to go on in a little while. Wish me luck.”

I returned to the dressing room to grab my things and ran my fingers across Skye’s locker. I lifted the latch, and when it opened, the first thing I saw was a picture of her little girl affixed to the inside door. My heart shattered. I’d never noticed the photograph before because most of us kept our eyes on our own business. A single piece of cheap tape held it on, and someone had drawn a red heart in the bottom right-hand corner. Lola was a darling child. She was posed in front of a field of wildflowers, clutching a blue toy pony. She had her mama’s beautiful blue eyes and must have inherited her father’s hair. It fell to her shoulders in brown spirals and led me to believe she was biracial. That sweet baby was probably wondering where her mommy was. Who was Skye’s cousin? She hadn’t mentioned if it was a man or woman, or even how old they were. Did they have children of their own? I tugged the picture from the locker and slipped it into my purse. She didn’t have anything else in there worth looking through. Just a pair of shoes, a jacket, lipstick, two magazines, and some business cards with telephone numbers written on them.

I lifted the cards and stuffed them in my purse. Dean had already cleaned out the other girl’s locker, so we didn’t have any evidence to go on.

“Walk me to my car,” I said, latching on to Fawn’s arm.

She smacked on her gum while we strolled across the parking lot to my Trans Am.

I unlocked the door and tossed my things on the passenger seat. “Make sure you do the same and have someone walk you out.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m not going to get myself diced up by some sicko who worships Hannibal Lecter.” She spun on her heel and swung her hips like a pendulum as she made her way back inside.

After the long drive home, I parked in front of my apartment and sat in the car for a few minutes looking at Lola’s picture. The light from the carport let me stare into her sweet eyes, and I thought about the tears that would fill them each night when she went to bed, waiting to be tucked in and wondering if her mommy would be there in the morning.

I opened my clutch and removed the money I planned to give to Reno. Being a creature of habit, I knew that the moment I stepped inside my apartment I’d toss my purse on the sofa and forget about the money. So I gripped the bills in my hand and decided to spread it out in front of the coffee maker before going to bed. That way, I’d see it first thing in the morning.

I strolled across the grass on the stretch of land that led to my apartment. Our manager was too cheap to build a walkway from my building to the parking lot. Instead, a worn path ran from the stairwell to the mailboxes.

The grass made a soft whisper beneath my shoes, and I slowed my pace when a noise in the darkness grew louder. Heavy footsteps trampled toward me from behind, and before I could look over my shoulder, a body tackled me with such force that it knocked the wind out of me when I hit the ground.

He sat on my back and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking it so hard that it forced my head back.

“What are you doing?” I grunted, trying to push myself up. “Get off me, you brute!”

“Hold her still,” another man said.

A hand appeared in front of my face, holding a slender metal object that resembled an instrument a human doctor might use. It was black and long with a round bulb at the tip.

“Keep your mouth shut and this’ll be over real quick,” he said.

A click sounded when he flipped it on and he held it directly in front of my right eye. A fast series of strobe lights began flashing in a chaotic rhythm, and I panicked. The right speed of strobe caused Shifters to change uncontrollably. They were prohibited in clubs unless the owner regulated the flicker rate so it wouldn’t cause shifting.

A high intensity of pulsing light blinded my right eye, and I heard a snapping sound as it continued. Shutting my eyes was useless, and I couldn’t loosen his grip on my hair.

A tremor rolled through my body, and my black panther clawed to the surface.

***

Wheeler awoke before dawn and spent three hours at his desk reading. He didn’t have a library of books because he preferred reading the news. It was more or less entertainment, since news among humans had no relevance in their lives for the most part. But then he stumbled across a local article about a suspected kidnapping. A witness driving by Club Sin had spotted a woman struggling with someone in a van. Wheeler read and dissected the article three times. He knew Club Sin. It was located in the Breed district just down the road from the Blue Door. According to the article, the manager had made a statement that all his dancers were accounted for.

Of course he had. If there was one thing they all knew, it was to keep their mouths shut around human law enforcement. Immortals were far too intelligent to reveal themselves to humans who, out of fear, would attempt in vain to exterminate them. Perhaps some immortals loved the comforts humans provided them, like modern technology, food, and entertainment. Most came from a time when men had been scavengers and a day’s meal was never guaranteed.

Wheeler took off his glasses and set them on the desk, easing back in his leather chair and rolling an unsharpened pencil between his fingers. He thought about the phone call Naya had received at the birthday party and her sudden change in behavior. She worked at Club Sin.

Naya
. He closed his eyes, remembering how she’d bantered with him at the party, dishing back everything he served. That was an attractive quality to Wheeler; he became highly aroused by a confident woman with a dominant personality—more than the average wolf. Sometimes he’d hang out at the strip clubs because that’s how those women would portray themselves to be, but in conversation, very few could talk about anything of substance. Naya had a sharp tongue and, uncertain if she’d slap him in front of his pack, he’d eased off. After opening his crude mouth, Wheeler had felt a pang of guilt for the undeserved insults he’d given her, so he’d attempted to smooth things over by complimenting the color of her blouse. But she had turned away, engaged in small talk with April, and his kind words had fallen on deaf ears.

Then he thought about Ben sitting beside Naya and touching her.

Touching
.

It incited the most unexpected reaction: jealousy. Wheeler’s wolf snapped and snarled within him—at his own brother.

They had always had a rocky past, but this riptide of emotion took him wholly by surprise. Jealousy over
Naya?
Granted, he’d fantasized about their kiss many times and despised himself for doing so, but maybe it was how well she’d delivered it. How soft and pliant her lush lips had been against his, the way she’d smelled like cookies and tasted like dark cherries.

Wheeler had a mouth on him, but he didn’t make lewd remarks to women like Ben did. His brother always managed to cross a line that went from flirtatious to perverse. Seeing his brother’s finger slide up her arm like a matchstick ready to ignite had almost made Wheeler flip the table over.

And that shouldn’t have happened.

Maybe it just boiled down to sexual infatuation. There was no denying Naya had feminine curves that made a man’s tongue want to measure the length of her body. She kept herself groomed. She had an exotic face, long lashes, and the most intense brown eyes he’d ever seen. She never wore ponytails or dressed down in sneakers. Naya polished her nails, waxed her legs, kept her hair in silky brown curls, and looked flawless with or without makeup. Even small touches like toe rings and anklets had never escaped his attention. Not the kind of woman he’d ever been with before. Someone so in control, so perfect and clean—untouched by the evils that lurked in their world.