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Authors: Gena Showalter

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Silence. Then, “I’m telling you,” he said, “it’s not here.”

No damn way. “See what else you can find on her. Every little detail.”

He positioned his fingers onto the keyboard and jumped back into work. One prolonged heartbeat of time passed. Two. “Shit, take a look at this.”

“What is it?” I straightened in my seat and eyed the screen.

“Firewall. All records for Lilla en Arr are deemed confidential, and no one, and I do mean no one, is allowed entrance.”

“Arrests and interrogations aren’t confidential.” The words rushed from me, ripe with displeasure and confusion.

He shot me a narrowed glance. What little I saw of his eyes blazed with irritation. “I’m telling you, access is denied. This is one hell of a block.”

Dark curiosity pounded through me because there was only one logical explanation. Someone on the inside didn’t want authorities poking into Lilla’s life. “Get into that file,” I commanded.

“Want me to pull a rabbit out of my ass, too?” he muttered, his tone heavy with sarcasm. But he turned back to the screen, his fingers working furiously.

“If you can show me that rabbit at the same time you get into that file, I might think you’ve got talent.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mia.”

Minute after minute dragged by, the click of the keys the only sound. I was not known for my patience, and tapped my foot against the floorboard.

Finally Dallas laughed, threw his hands in the air, and shouted, “Couldn’t block that, could you, you bastards.”

“What’d you find?” Excitement blended with my impatience, each emotion feeding off the other.

“Still no voice recording, but she’s been questioned twice. Once for soliciting sex from a human, and once for beating the shit out of a human.”

“Who arrested her?”

“For solicitation—George Hudson.”

I filed that information away. I didn’t know the agent personally, but I would. “What about the assault charges?”

“Let’s see. The arresting officer was—” He scrolled down the screen, then whistled between his teeth. “The name’s been erased.”

“This doesn’t make sense. Alien assault is punishable by death, and only death, yet Lilla was released and her record buried.”

“Why bury it?” Thoughtful, Dallas worried a hand over his shadow beard. “I mean, someone obviously wants her information to remain hidden, so why not destroy it?”

“Blackmail, maybe?” I turned my head and glanced outside. Several agents were packing their gear and loading their vehicles. Pieces of this puzzle just didn’t fit, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to make sense of what I was learning. I returned my attention to Dallas. “Does the database list who Lilla solicited and who she trashed?”

Another pause, then, “Shit, Mia. You’re not going to believe this. The man Lilla beat within an inch of his life was William Steele. And the man she propositioned was none other than—”

He shot me a glance, and we said in unison, “William Steele.”

“So there’s a connection,” I breathed, brushing a hand down my face.

Slowly, he nodded. “Looks like we’ve got our killer.”

“Yes, it looks that way, doesn’t it?” Yet suddenly something didn’t feel right, and my mind whirled with probabilities. Here was an Arcadian female who’d desired Steele enough to try and seduce him.

When that failed, she beat him. This was a female perfectly capable of murder, and the simplest answer to our investigation.

Occam’s razor.

Except…everything inside me was screaming
Too easy!

Oh, I was willing to bet my savings account she was involved. Had to be. But…

“Got anything else on her?” I asked, hoping to assuage my concerns. “Is her name linked with any of the other missing men?”

“Not that I can see. The only other bit of info here is the fact that she works at Ecstasy, and is dating the owner.”

I pursed my lips and flipped through my mental files. “That name sounds familiar.”

“You need to get out more, woman. Ecstasy is the most exclusive nightclub in New Chicago, and host to a slew of alien sympathizers. Mark St. John, the owner, is a hard-ass bastard with more money than God.”

So the boyfriend had money and power, probably kept a few officials in his pocket. That explained Lilla’s confidential file and the fact that she was still alive. “Let’s go after Lilla first,” I said, “and then Hudson.”

“Beauty before brawn, eh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Think she’s working tonight?”

“According to this, she works every night.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Tending bar.”

“It’s a damn good thing I wore my dancing shoes, then,” I said, leaning back in the seat, “because we’re going to crash the party. And don’t kill her, Dallas,” I added quickly. “I want her alive.”

“As if you have to worry about me. You’re the one who’s trigger-happy.” Grinning languidly, he programmed the club’s address into the console. “I do believe this night is about to get interesting.”

CHAPTER
2

E
cstasy perched atop a perfectly manicured hill in the upper East District. Moonlight cast an unholy frame around the three-story building, illuminating the deceptively virginal white walls, stained glass windows, and hanging pottery filled with bright green faux foliage. A cross rose from the roof like a direct antenna to God.

A fucking chapel, I thought. A nightclub infamous for illegal drugs and made-to-order sex was housed in a fucking chapel. I shook my head, marveling at the defiance such an act required. It was like saying, “Screw you, God.”

Something about the place prodded at the corners of my memory. I stared at the silk flowers twined around the tall alabaster columns, searching my mind for…what? What was I forgetting?

It hit me in the next instant, and I almost groaned. I’d forgotten my brother’s memorial was tonight.

My parents had me in their late thirties. My mother ran off not long after, but my dad stuck around. For many years, he’d been a wonderful father. Loving, supportive. It was only after my oldest brother’s death that he became an indifferent, sometimes cruel bastard.

The only thing that seemed to give him joy was this annual midnight vigil on the eve of Kane’s death. So what that my brother had died twenty-three years ago. So what that Kane had been seventeen, and I’d been five and therefore didn’t remember him. My dad expected me to be there.

Anger spun a treacherous web inside me as I considered the situation. I was still alive, but my dad basically treated me as if I was dead; Kane was dead, but he still lived and breathed in my dad’s heart.

Maybe that was because Kane’s body had never been found. I didn’t know and tried not to care. I was going to take a lot of shit for missing.

Had the service been for my other brother, Dare, I would have obliterated any obstacle to be there. Dare had been my hero, my lifeline. Whenever Dad punished me, it was Dare who comforted me.

Dare who made sure I had enough food and blankets.

And he’d been tortured and killed by a group of aliens on his eighteenth birthday. The date of his death was stamped in my mind like a physical brand.

Had my dad ever once held a memorial for him? Hell, no.

“Looks like we’re gonna have ourselves some trouble,” Dallas said, capturing my attention.

I realized my hands were clenched, almost snapping the bones. Thinking of Dare’s death always had that effect on me. “Nothing we can’t handle,” I said absently. My dad hadn’t called yet, but it was just a matter of time before he did. This was the only night of the year he acknowledged me.

While I usually (secretly) looked forward to his call, I didn’t need the distraction right now. I slipped out my cell unit and switched the tone to silent. I forced my body to relax and my mind to clear.

No thoughts of my dad tonight, and certainly no thoughts of my brothers, either. I had to focus on here and now. Human lives depended on me.

At the gated entrance, Dallas eased his sedan toward the security booth. Before the wheels came to a complete stop, a uniformed guard appeared at the driver’s-side window. The guard had dry, yellow skin, almost reptilian. He had no nose, and his cheekbones were so sharp they could have cut glass. Ugly as putrid water, with a smell to match, he peered into the car with wide golden eyes.

An Ell-Rollis. He was definitely an Ell-Rollis. Their race wasn’t known for creativity; they rarely possessed an original thought, so they relied on the exact directives of others. And those directives were usually nefarious. Except for their physical strength, they didn’t have any special powers. That I knew of.

Perhaps one day there would be a manual outlining every alien species and their abilities, but until then, we operated on what little knowledge we possessed.

Dallas lowered his window, and suddenly all that shielded him from the alien was air. And that wasn’t a good thing, since the alien was built like two WWE wrestlers fused together, muscle stacked upon muscle. He’d probably been ordered to kill whoever defied him.

“Do you have invitation?” the guard asked, his voice low, gravelly, and heavily accented.

Before Dallas could utter a single word, I leaned across the seat and flashed my badge. “Open the gate.”

The Ell-Rollis kept his gaze locked on my partner, assuming he was the bigger threat.

Unimpressed, the alien crossed his arms over his chest. His expression darkened with disdain. “No invitation. No enter.”

“I understand,” I replied pleasantly. Deceptively. And I did understand. He saw a badge and automatically assumed I was an average cop with no alien jurisdiction. “Maybe this will help.” With a fluid, lightning-fast motion of my wrist, I unsheathed my pyre-gun and leveled it at his face. “Open the gate, or taste fire.”

Pyre-guns caused maximum pain with lethal results, and that was something even a Ell-Rollis could understand, the dumb bastard. These guns were standard issue; they emitted thin talons of fire that exploded upon impact. The wielder controlled just how much fire—just how much pain. Certain alien breeds were impervious to bullets, but I had yet to meet a breed resistant to fire.

Dallas flipped on the cab light, and two glowing circles flooded the front seats, chasing away the darkness. The Ell-Rollis tugged his gaze from Dallas to my gun. He flicked my face a nervous glance.

When he saw me, his eyes widened, and his mouth formed a small O. He recoiled three steps back.

“Mia Snow,” he breathed on a horrified gasp.

“That’s right.” My gaze remained as steady as my gun.

“I let you inside, yes?” He tried for an easy, I-only-want-to-please-you chuckle that sounded more like a misfiring pyre-gun. His limbs trembled, and he edged his way toward the guardhouse.

“Stay where you are,” I said, keeping my tone casual. He froze so quickly, I almost laughed.

Almost. “I want my friend to open the gate. You blew your chance.” No telling how many alarms the bastard would kick if I allowed him inside his booth.

He swallowed, the action followed by a jerky nod. “Whatever say you.”

Dallas emerged from the sedan, always careful to stay out of my line of fire. He stepped inside the guardhouse, and moments later the thick metal bars blocking our entrance were groaning in protest as they split.

“What’s your name?” I asked the Ell-Rollis.

“I called Bob,” he offered hesitantly.

I rolled my eyes. Why couldn’t he have picked a human name that fit his appearance? Biff? Or Hulk? “Well, Bobby,” I said, “I’m feeling generous tonight.” I holstered my gun, but his expression remained tight with fear. “I’m going to let you live, and in exchange, you’re going to escort me to Lilla en Arr. Understand?”

“Yes, yes. I understand.” The lines of tension finally eased around his mouth. “Mia Snow always keep her word, just as Bob do.”

“For your sake, I hope so.” My gaze remained on Bob, but I spoke my next words to Dallas.

“Follow in the car and meet me inside.”

“You got it,” he replied with an easy smile. He always enjoyed watching me, the dainty little flower, intimidate such enormous creatures. Warped humor, if you asked me, but then we all had our quirks.

“You try anything, Bobby,” I said, exiting the sedan, “and I swear to God I’ll use you for target practice.” The predicted snow chose that moment to pour from the sky. In seconds. Thick white flakes fell and swirled around us, descending like glitter inside a water globe.

“I no try nothing.” He shook his head violently, causing his dark brown braids to swing around his temples. “No, no. No try. I your friend.”

Friend, my ass. He’d kill me if I gave him the opportunity. With a tilt of my chin, I motioned him inside the gate. I kept him three strides in front of me. I didn’t trust him at my back, and I didn’t want him at my side.

Cars littered the grounds, all strategically placed for easy departure. One by one, we maneuvered around them, each step taking us closer to Ecstasy. Finally, we stood at the large, intricately carved double doors. Thunderous rock music boomed so loudly, the walls and floor vibrated.

I wiped the snow from my face and wondered at the lack of entrance security. Yes, they had Bob posted at the front gate, but as I’d just proved, he wasn’t insurmountable. I doubted they relied on cameras. Unlicensed surveillance had been restricted years ago because even the average citizen knew how to splice “tamper-resistant” film, and after numerous false claims, the courts had decided to restrict all video usage. This nightclub had never been issued a license. Sure, they could have hidden cameras, but why gamble on the loss of a business over something so trivial?

I wondered again at the reason for only posting one guard. Stupidity on the owner’s part? Or simple cockiness? Or maybe he was just too cheap to spring for more. I voted for all three.

Just get this over with, Mia
. I silently palmed my gun and adjusted the control to stun. I’d said I wouldn’t kill him, and I wouldn’t. But I never promised not to immobilize him for a few hours. Hand steady, I aimed at Bob’s back.

As if sensing my intent, he turned and cast me a glance over his shoulder. His expression was comical, really, since he had no nose. His sharp, yellowed teeth were chewing on his bottom lip. I stupidly paused for a second too long, allowing his expression to distract me.

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