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Club Beam

Copyright © 2015 by Erzabet Bishop

ISBN: 978-1-61333-843-8

Cover art by Syneca Featherstone

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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Dedication

For E. and T. You are the fairy tale.

Club Beam

By

Erzabet Bishop

A Beyond Fairytales

Adaptation of Grimms’ “The Beam”

Chapter One

“Once upon a time….” Erika sang and waggled her eyebrows. “Come on, Sydney. Live a little. This club is smoking hot, and you’ll love it.”

Sydney grumbled under her breath and watched the club-goers parade past, each dressed like a fairy-tale character. The Little Mermaid trounced by in a see-through, diaphanous gown revealing too much in the way of personal attributes. Sleeping Beauty sashayed down the sidewalk with a leash around the neck of her Prince Charming. A woman in a way-too-short Red Riding Hood outfit approached. Her arm was wrapped around a seductress dressed in wolf ears, a tail, and a skimpy thong-style bikini. Red carried a basket full of what looked like pink fuzzy handcuffs and a can of whipped cream, which she swung into Syd.

“Hey!”

The red-cloaked vixen sent her a wink and traipsed on by, joined by a near-pornographic version of the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland. Any shorter and the skirt would show her naughty bits. Or maybe that was the plan.

Syd had just gotten off her day shift as a detective, and the last thing she wanted to do was be around more people. Especially people with more skin showing than on late-night cable shows. Her head hurt from the lights and the pulse of the music, and her stupid witch costume was pinching her toes. Erika’s scant fairy costume hugged all her curves, her breasts bursting from the bodice. The skirt barely covered her backside, the strappy silver sandals showing off her silver-glitter nail polish.

The building loomed next to them. A giant warehouse-like structure, it was large enough to house all manner of mischief, and Syd was itching with the desire to get inside and find out just what was going on behind its doors. The sidewalk was flagged by trees lit up with twinkly white lights, adding an upscale ambiance to the area. What in the daylight looked like an industrial area gone to the dogs had been transformed into an attractive and well-attended venue.

She didn’t have the heart to tell Erika she’d been here once already today for the case she was working on, but the entrance had been sealed up tighter than a drum. Sydney’s recourse was to infiltrate Club Beam by night as a patron. Her sergeant, Debra, would kill her if she realized Syd had even considered going in without backup. So would her partner, James. Erika had asked her to come so she wouldn’t be alone, and, despite herself, Syd couldn’t resist. To catch a vampire, you had to go out at night, and Club Beam was the hot spot. After last month’s fuckup, she had to do this and do it right, even if it killed her. James was on medical leave, and it remained up to her to get this guy before someone else got killed or turned furry.

I will not think about becoming one of the terminally furry. It’s over. Move on. Take the pills the doctor gave you and freaking pray.

“Oh look. I think I see Snow White.” Erika stood on her tiptoes and craned her head along the huge expanse of line they still had to navigate to get inside.

Syd peered into the crowd and grimaced. Hairy legs. More makeup than a Mac commercial. “Nope. That was a guy in drag.”

Erika narrowed her eyes. “God, Syd. You’re the world’s biggest wet blanket ever.”

Sydney shifted her weight and moved another two steps toward the door as the line inched forward. “I told you, I’ve had a hard day. We had a homicide case come in, and I’ve been out beating the street. I want to go home and bury my head under my pillow. But, no. Out of the kindness of my heart, here I am standing in line at a vampire bar with a bunch of overgrown kids playing dress-up in fairy-tale fetish wear.”

“I’m sorry.” Erika pouted, her fairy wings fluttering in the warm Texas breeze. “You’re right. I tried to get Cara to come, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

Sydney frowned, feeling like a shit. “No. It was nice of you to ask me. I’m just moody after no leads to speak of. No more negative comments, okay?”

“Promise?”

Sydney held up her hand. “Pinky swear.”

Erika’s expression brightened, and she linked fingers with Sydney. “Yay!” She gave Sydney a quick hug. “You’ll have such a good time. Just you wait. Tonight is witch night. They have the coolest ‘battle of the spells’ contest, and you have to enter.”

“Hmmm.” Now that was interesting. She’d heard the local witch population frequented Club Beam, but overwhelmed with cases, Syd hadn’t found time to come over and play on her off hours. Yep. Married to the damn job. No wonder your dating life sucks. “What is it, like witch karaoke?”

“Yep.”

The energy around the club hummed with a blend of dark magic and something else she wasn’t able to put her finger on. Her intuition was rarely ever wrong. Mostly. Except for last month. The scar on her arm still smarted, and she’d had enough Lupine shots for an army. Wolfing out would not be an option. Not if she could help it.

Her senses had gotten a little more attuned since the attack, but what sensible cop wouldn’t be on her guard? When weird paranormal shit went down, she was the one who had to clean up the mess. It was her job and she lived for the chase.

The vampire responsible for the string of murders worked here. She just had to catch him off guard. That was the only way she’d be able to take him down. The silver binding cord hung low beneath her blouse. Since the bite, a red rash had bloomed where it touched her skin, but she continued to take her medication and pray it took.

The silver cord could be out and in her hands at a moment’s notice, but to get the vampire that close to use it on would be like waving a steak in front of a Rottweiler. One wrong move and someone might get bitten. She looked down at her arm with a sour expression.

Again.

“Yes. The girls at work were talking about it.”

Syd glanced up, not even following Erika’s side of the conversation. “What?”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“Sorry. The day just caught up with me. What did you say?”

“I said, Alvarado would perform during the karaoke spell contest tonight.”

“Really?” What witch hadn’t heard of Alvarado? He was tall, dark, and handsome with a penchant for seduction; every spell-casting female for miles would be here trying to get into his pants. Sydney looked at the line. She’d yet to meet this paragon of witchy maleness, but apparently she wouldn’t have long to wait. If she took part in the contest, she’d be able keep an eye on things and blend in. “Did you say that Rick would meet you here?”

Erika nodded, her eyes bright. “He’s already inside. He’s on bar duty tonight, but he didn’t want me outside alone. Thanks for coming with me, Syd.”

“No problem.”

“Yep. He gets off in an hour. I’ll just wait near the stage until he gets freed up. That way he can keep an eye out for me and you get to check out the witch action. I know you could find a date if you tried.”

“Oh my God.” Sydney stared at her. “You brought me to a vampire club to set me up?”

“Well…yeah.” Erika cringed. “Sorry. I should have told you first, I guess.” She grinned. “See? If you’d just break away from work for a little while and have some fun….”

Unease trickled down Syd’s spine. “Who is this guy?” Another Red Riding Hood in an even shorter dress than the last one flounced by, her skirt flipping up to reveal a naked ass cheek as she hurried to a muscular guy dressed like a zombie.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things.” The guy snorted. “Fucking jerk bounced me.”

“Honey, wait!”

Syd snickered as she watched the pair retreat into the night. Go figure. Zombies were not fairy-tale costumes. At least the club had some standards.

“He’s the star of the attraction tonight, Alvarado.”

Oh. Damn. Erika’s still talking. I’m a bad friend…. “Hmphhh.” Syd grumbled and glared at the doorway. Jesus fucking Christ, will this line freaking move already?

A whisper of magic lit the air, and Syd snapped on her second sight. The din of the crowd faded into the background, allowing Syd to see the energy that trickled behind the glitz and glamour of the club and the tricked-out partygoers.

Elf? Vampire?

The power tasted raw and earthy. Like green and growing things.

Fae.

“What’s that?” Syd whispered, stepping out of line. A bouncer walked the rank and file of hopeful club-goers, picking and choosing who went in and who would spend the next few hours battling mosquitoes outside. Power glided in his wake.

Fae. And here I am without my cargo pants full of spells. Great.

“You—inside.” He pointed at a girl in a silver mini dress and scandalous heels and another in a black Elvira number, who left the line with a malicious grin to tromp toward the door. He reached Erika and Syd moments later, his eyes widening as he glanced at Syd.

“Is there a problem?” Syd ground out, staring at the muscle-bound pretty boy with the pointy ears. He was poured into his black T-shirt, and his jeans were holding some powerful thighs. She licked her lips, then tamped her lust down hard when she realized what she was doing.

Jesus. You are not in heat. Get a fucking grip.

“Not if you don’t make one, witch.” He jerked his thumb backward. “You’re in. Duel starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Come on.” Erika tugged Syd’s hand, dragging her to the front of the club. “I can’t wait for you to see this.”

“If you make me trip in these shoes, you will die.” Syd groaned and trudged behind her, the malignant stares of the people still in line making her smile.

Chapter Two

Gideon watched the undulating crowd with growing trepidation. Fairy-tale night was one of his most popular events. The array of scant costumes did not disappoint. Short skirts, deep cleavage, and the tantalizing hint of an ass cheek or two spurred a distracted smile across his face. The lights pulsed, and the techno beat reverberated through the walls. Elbows up and hair flying, the guests were enjoying themselves. If he was in a better mood, he wouldn’t mind sampling one or two. Hunger spiked through him, and his fangs itched to descend.

Not now.

His small observation room seemed too small tonight. Screens, a table, and a chair were all he needed to monitor the club since his enforcers were peppered through the crowd with Miles, his more personable partner, in the thick of the fray.

His day manager had reported police nosing around the building earlier in the afternoon. Not good. The murders in the neighborhood were going up, and several of the victims had been seen at his club. His numbers had been dropping with each instance, and the body count continued to get higher. This drama was one he didn’t want or need at Club Beam. To be part owner of a vampire bar made him a big enough target. To have a serial killer targeting his clientele was even worse.

“Are you sure he’ll even take the bait with the invitation? And you’re sure it’s him?”

“I know it is. He won’t be able to resist. Every witch in the county will be here for a chance at him. He’ll need a new toy to play with.” Miles closed the door behind them to the camera room and chuckled. He was a full-blooded fae, his energy crackling with wild magic. His hair trailed white and glistening down his back and shoulders, and the leather pants draped around his waist like a carnal invitation. The black button-down shirt hung open, revealing a muscular chest.

“I wish I could laugh, but this is getting to be a problem. They found last week’s winner in an alley three blocks away.”

“He’s giving all vampires a bad name.” Miles pressed his lips together. “If you would allow me to give the order, we could contain this, and the authorities need not be involved. You are the leader of the clan. You have the power.”

Gideon ran his fingers through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “You realize the second we assassinate that bastard, the Caligari Clan would call for blood.”

“Are they so intimidating that your people and mine couldn’t overcome them?” Miles’s eyes glittered in the half-light. The fae lord never stepped down from a fight, making him one of Gideon’s oldest and most formidable friends.

“I don’t want to risk it. With so much scrutiny it wouldn’t be wise.”

“Did you invite some of them tonight?”

“I did.” Gideon walked to the wall of mirrored glass that looked out over the crowd. “If they see that what their favorite son is doing will provoke a war, they may be less likely to seek retribution if his actions call for such.”

His reflection shone in the glass, and Gideon had the sudden urge to smash it. Brown eyes and a chiseled face looked back at him. For a moment, it was like looking at a stranger. This was his life, and the bastard was fucking with it tooth and nail. He curled his fingers into a fist. His fangs distended, and he had to breathe for a moment before he could retract them.

“If this doesn’t work, will you at least consider my suggestion?” Miles brushed a length of silver hair from his ears, revealing the points at the tips. “The fae have much to lose if this venture doesn’t bear fruit.”

Gideon’s lips twisted into a smile. “You like your pain, don’t you?”

“Indeed. Not since Fairy have I found a place comfortable enough to host my particular…proclivities. Now, I must go down and see what fruits the men are finding amongst the trees this evening. So many witches with the potential to make our guest more than comfortable.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Gideon watched the crowd, his gaze roaming over the mass of people. Red Riding Hoods, mermaids, fairy princesses, and more all wound around the stage waiting for the star of the show.

How he longed for the quiet pain and pleasure behind the Red Door, but tonight it would not be possible. Tension held too much sway in the air, and he remained far too haunted by his last error in judgment. Taking a human woman behind those doors was a recipe for disaster, and he had the scars in his soul to prove it.

Chapter Three

“Good evening, witches.”

The emcee smiled, revealing a gleaming set of fangs. Sydney glanced toward Erika and nodded, feeling that she was safe until her boyfriend came and collected her. She couldn’t believe her friend had been to a vampire club. It was even weirder to think of her dating one. Vampire Rick seemed like a decent sort in passing, but Syd knew one thing that Erika didn’t: when you tangled with monsters, sometimes you got burned.

Vampires and the fae had come out to the public years ago, but that didn’t mean their secrets should be put on display for all to see. The murders she’d been investigating more than illustrated that fact. On the whole, the general vampire populace wanted humans to believe they took only when consent was certain. And the fae…now that was a tough one. They spoke in riddles, and it was easy to get snared in their webs of deceit and logic. What Syd knew could either keep her safe or get her killed. She was hoping for the former.

The city had an entire underground network of human trafficking and slavery. Syd was certain different groups ran the city, much like the mob used to. She glanced around and let her senses explore. She sensed several different kinds of power signatures, and she needed to understand what they meant. There were witches involved here, too. Why have an event like this at a vampire fetish club? The vampires must need something from the witches they couldn’t do themselves. It made little sense otherwise.

“It’s time for Spellbound at the Beam! Witches, take your places and prepare to duke it out for a taste of fame.” Dressed in a bright blue blazer and black pants, the emcee looked like an aging Vegas showman.

Music pulsed from the speakers on the stage, and the crowd surged forward, pulling Syd along for the ride. She’d planned on sitting out the first round, but the bouncer from the line outside stepped up and pointed out some of his choices. His gaze narrowed on Syd, and a trickle of unease sluiced down her back. She eyed the tables near the bar and wished she’d opted for a drink instead of heading to the festivities first thing. Her gaze caught a red door to the side of the room, and her curiosity was piqued.

“How about you?” The moderator pointed at Syd, giving her a greasy leer.

Oh crap.

“Sure. Why not?” Syd painted on a fake smile and pushed her way toward the stairs at the side of the stage. Her energy crackled with annoyance, and she had to make a conscious effort not to show it. The Red Riding hood with the pink cuffs smiled at her as she passed. A werewolf in a pink tutu and a Tin Man clutching a scantily clad Dorothy in kickin’ red heels moved to the side to let her by. She stalked up the steps, attempting to blend in.

Smile.

She was here to have fun with the rest of the crowd, not going to the dentist for a root canal. Sydney forced herself to relax a little and roll with the punches. It was karaoke for witches. How bad could it be?

The strobe lights danced and the music picked up tempo. Syd reached the top of the stairs in time to see the star of the show make his way into the spotlight. Thick, black hair and piercing dark eyes met hers, and she froze. Built like a linebacker, he towered over her by at least a foot. Dark clothing and a long, black cloak draped over his large frame. The male witch’s energy crept across the stage, assessing her from every angle. His nostrils flared at her inspection, and an amused expression settled over his features. The man stepped forward and offered her his hand. She took it, forcing everything she had into blocking him from reading her any more than he already had. He needed to see her as a harmless witch. Someone just here for a good time.

“Merry meet.” Her eyes grazed his, and she froze, breaking visual contact.

This is the rock-star witch everyone has their panties in a lather for?

“Merry meet indeed.”

The sensation of insects crawling across her skin made Syd shudder. His hand was cool. Too cool to be human or witch kind. Her guts twisted, and everything inside of her tightened. Something about the situation wasn’t right. It wasn’t fae magic, either, so what was it?

Her eyes trailed up his body and met his. What she could see under the cloak, at any rate. An indefinable darkness radiated from him. A distinct absence of light. Something unsavory slid behind his gaze, and Sydney suppressed a shudder.

Fuck. Why had she decided it was a good thing to go this alone?

The moderator paced the stage, urging the crowd into a frenzy. Fairy-tale characters held up their glasses, some filled with amber liquid and others with something darker. What had seemed somehow ridiculous moments ago now turned her blood cold.

Get out. Get out now.

Her inner voice was not happy, and it, she was finding out, was often more right than not.

“Alvarado! Alvarado!” The onlookers chanted, their voices rising with each inflection.

Sydney tore her gaze away and let it wander over the assembled crowd. The unmoving stares of the undead were still islands among the sea of animated witches and humans. All eyes were on the stage. Perspiration dripped down her back, and she slicked her clammy hands down the front of her costume. She had to hold her own and make it out of here or she’d never live it down. James would beat her to death with his crutches.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind.

Did I take my pills today?

Shit. She couldn’t remember. The treatments to prevent the healing werewolf bite on her arm from turning her were only effective if she remembered to take them. The doctor’s voice droned in her memory.

“Take this prescription without fail. Unless you want to own stock in a shaving company and bay at the full moon every month.”

Jackass thought he was being funny. At least that was what she’d assumed. He’d also cautioned her about undue stress until the treatment concluded. Sydney’s gut tightened, and she pushed air out through her nose. It was a full moon tonight, too. Lucky her.

No stress. Right.

She could scent them. The undead. It was strong. Like the reek of something cold and rank you didn’t want to touch. But not all of them smelled this bad. She lifted her nose and pinpointed a group of vampires standing toward the back of the club. They were dressed in black, and their somber appearance was in direct opposition to the merriment taking place in front of her. She wrinkled her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. Funny how she’d never noticed how some of the undead smelled before. But she’d never been one to hang out at a vamp fetish club. A cold rush hit her, and for a moment she wondered if the pills were working. Why in the hell would she be smelling the differences between vamps?

“Thank you. Welcome back to our returning champion, Larson Alvarado. And what is your name, young lady?” The emcee held up the microphone.

“Sydney Marr.” She kept her voice steady, blinking in the glare of the spotlights.

“Thank you for joining us tonight, Sydney. Here are the rules. You’ll each take turns dueling by spellcraft. No deadly force. No mind control. Just might and magic. Winners will go to the next round until we have a champion for the night. There will be four rounds in this game.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“I concur.”

Sydney watched Alvarado, his dark eyes glittering under the bright stage lights. She’d heard of him before Erika had mentioned him tonight but couldn’t remember the context. His power signature was reminiscent of a witch’s, but there was something else…something feral about him that set the hairs on the back of her neck to dancing. Her nose twitched again, and she almost sneezed in his face. Syd rubbed her nose and sucked in a calming breath.

“Okay, witches. Take your places where indicted on the stage. May I again remind you no lethal spells, and physical contact is prohibited.”

Syd glanced out at the sea of expectant faces and sought Erika. Her friend was nowhere in sight. Rick must have gotten off early. Nothing to be concerned about. She turned her attention back to her opponent, but as she did so a man caught her eye. Older with white hair that flowed down his back, he made the air around him motionless as if he froze it in time. She met his eyes, and he gave her a wink and smiled. In a flash, he vanished into the crowd.

Huh. He looks like something out of The Hobbit or Harry Potter. Well, he picked the right place.

Syd shrugged. She’d heard of an old man by the name of Nicodemus who frequented fairy-tale events around town. Maybe that was him. Her gaze hung on the spot where he disappeared, and she let out a breath she’d unknowingly held.

An impatient clearing of a throat caught her attention. The battle was about to begin.

Chapter Four

“Miles, get over here,” Gideon ground out into the comlink. He stared down into the sea of witches and humans and watched the faces of the Caligari Clan at the back of the room. Their immovable expressions revealed nothing. They had to know his hands were tied and the bindings chafed. What he really wanted to do was bar them from the club, but that would solve nothing and might just start a war between the Caligari and his own people.

The door to the small room opened, and Miles strode in, his face a mask of irritation. “What? The night just got interesting.”

“The girl on the stage. Who is she?”

Miles shrugged. “I have no idea. Kyle picked her out from the line of girls outside. Why?”

“There’s something about her….”

“Now you’re just talking with your dick.”

“Funny.” Gideon pushed away from the window and let his gaze fall over the cameras. Everything seemed in order in the main club area. Behind the Red Door, life was going on without him. The fetish hall was active, and a few guests were already taking advantage of the theme rooms.

“Which group do we have next week?”

“I think it’s the dryads on Monday for Ladies’ Night, and Thursday is Howling at the Moon with Charlie.”

“Good. Our business has fallen a little with the witches over this asshole.”

“Have you seen Charlie? She’s looking good.”

“No.” Gideon frowned, his gaze moving to the window. He ran a hand through his hair and tried not to bite Miles’s head off. The small room that had been his refuge seemed too small.

“Monty’s already in the schoolroom, I see,” Miles said.

Gideon’s eyes flashed toward the screen. A young woman with her skirt flipped upward was receiving a swat with one of his favorite paddles. Her blonde hair was pulled into pigtails, her white blouse bursting at the buttons with each heave of her well-endowed chest, and she gave a delighted squeal with each well-placed smack.

“She’s cute,” Gideon said.

“Do you want me to turn on the volume for you?”

“No.”

“You haven’t been down to the rooms much of late. Not since…oh, it has been months, hasn’t it? Is anything the matter?” Miles walked to the window and let his gaze traverse the crowd.

“No time.”

“Mmmm. I believe that, but we make time for the things important to us, don’t we?”

“Stay out of it.”

“Touchy. Well, fine. More for me….”

Gideon watched the activity on the stage. “I don’t like this, Miles.”

“Neither do I. I’m going back down to keep an eye out and see what kind of new flogger Veronica has with her in the Victorian dungeon. Might have to let her break it in on yours truly.”

“I wish you’d wait until after the show. He’s here, and I have a sense he’s already found his next victim.”

Gideon ground his teeth as his gaze flickered between the cameras and the window over the main portion of the club. He was always watching, and now his gaze fell on the enigmatic woman onstage with Alvarado. Let the bastard try something, and he would be there in a heartbeat.

Chapter Five

Alvarado circled Sydney, his eyes narrowed into slits. He flipped back his cloak with a flourish and pulled out a long willow wand from the lining on the other side.

Syd blinked, stifling a chuckle despite her unease. What witch actually used a wand in this day and age? The guy looked ridiculous.

“That was an awesome flourish. A ten out of ten for style and substance.” She made an okay sign with her fingers and chuckled, trying to smartass herself out of being nervous. If she pissed him off enough, the contest might just end faster and she could be about her business and leave.

This was the guy Erika wanted to set her up with? No fucking way. Ever.

The witch gave no response, watching her with his lips pressed into a narrow line.

“And a wand? That’s so Harry Potter.” She snorted through her nose and lifted her hand to the crowd, urging them to join in.

Laughter mixed with whistles at her audacity sparked throughout the room.

“Go ahead and mock me, witch. I’ll have the last laugh.” A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

He sent her a superior look, tapped his wand in the air, and set his first spell in motion with a muttering of words. Smoke appeared in the space between them, followed by a murky cloud of buzzing insects. Black flies flew in her direction. A smirk settled over Alvarado’s features.

Flies?

Syd snorted and flicked her fingers in distain.

“Incantare snow!”

The insects morphed into a blanket of soft snow that drifted uselessly to the stage floor. It gathered into puddles of water that vanished from sight.

The moderator clapped, laughing with the crowd at Alvarado’s defeat. “Round one goes to Sydney the newcomer. Let’s hear it for round two!”

The crowd reacted with a mixture of applause and rowdy screams of encouragement. Sydney readied herself. The look in her opponent’s eyes was anything but friendly. She couldn’t understand what made him such a chick magnet. He was all brooding stares, his creepiness factor was kind of high, and he wasn’t much for conversation.

Alvarado wasted no time. A barrage of spells leapt from the wand, barely giving Syd a chance to counter-cast them. Locusts, bats, and balls of flame hurtled through the air, intent on her destruction. He was cheating. Rounds two, three, and four all came at her at once.

“That’s underhanded.”

“Not if I win, little witch.”

“Jerk.” Sydney stepped forward, her lips pressed together in concentration. Fireballs were the immediate danger. If they reached the curtains, the club would be at a real risk of a fire. She wanted to go for the locusts, but she couldn’t chance it. Syd held out her hand and gave a push of energy.

“Incantare flora!” Flames burst into bouquets of pink roses and fell to the ground. Sydney had no time to consider her next move. The locusts were crawling over her before the words even left her mouth. Their insect bodies covered her, giving no quarter. Bats swooped down and picked off a bug or two. Her next idea took root.

Syd spat out the bug trying to push its way inside her mouth.

Goddess, but the thing tasted nasty. She scraped her tongue on her teeth and shuddered. Ugh! Disgusting. She cast the next counter spell.

“Incantare musica!” Locusts spun away, morphing into notes of whispered music. The sound of Native American flutes filled the air. Bats, confused by the lack of fare and the sudden vibrations fluttered off into the rafters in search of more insects.

“Round two, three, and four go to Sydney once again.” The moderator raised his bushy eyebrows in mock distress. “What must our champion be thinking? Bested by a witch off the street? And after Alvarado broke the rules of the match?”

The crowd sucked in a collective breath.

Sydney eyed the crowd and turned to face her opponent. His cool demeanor was cracking. Alvarado’s jaw clenched in annoyance, and a vein throbbed in his neck. He stepped forward, wand drawn.

“No quarter,” he hissed, advancing on her.

Syd backed up as red pulsed from the depths of his eyes. She sensed he wasn’t a witch, just posing as one. The tricks he’d aimed at her were standard fare and nothing that difficult to deflect. But holding a glamour would be. He opened his mouth, a snarl bursting from his lips, and she caught the glint of his fangs under the spotlights.

Vampire!

“Incantare aperio! Reveal yourself!”

All of the sexy otherworldliness fell away, leaving the predator exposed for what he was—sunken features wrapped around a skeletal frame.

“Jesus.” Syd scrambled backward, but the vampire was too fast. One moment he was striding across the stage, a look of rage in his eyes, the next he had Sydney trapped. Alvarado wrapped arms around her that were solid as steel bands.

The cries from the audience rang hollow in her ears. Sydney pushed against his chest with all her might as panic rose like bile in the back of her throat. She couldn’t break his hold. His mouth full of razor-sharp teeth grew closer. Anger burned bright inside of her, and a growl slid up the back of her throat. Her skin tightened, and the tips of her fingers tingled.

“My, my. The big, bad wolf has found a home in you, witchling. You should be careful. Your eyes are glowing.”

He let forth a dark chuckle that skittered down Sydney’s spine.

“Liar!” She struggled, but he was too strong. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins, and she bucked against him, trying to break free. The primal force inside of her that she’d been denying since the night of her being bitten roared its outrage.

“Am I? We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He lowered his head and sank his teeth into her neck. Her vision blurred, and darkness crashed down on her.

Chapter Six

“Get that fucker!” Gideon roared into the comlink. His heart pounding like a jackhammer, he exited the camera room and bounded down the stairs toward the main floor. He burst onto the scene and found Miles and Rick already on the bastard.

Screams from onlookers filled the room, throwing it into veritable chaos. “Shut the doors and place the charms on them,” he barked to the barmaids. “No one gets in, and everyone who leaves better not fucking remember a thing.”

The waitresses scurried to do his bidding, the fae bouncers already weaving their spells on each passing guest. Cold anger sluiced through his veins. The asshole was trying to ruin him.

Gideon turned and watched the young woman. She was strong to see past whatever Alvarado had used to cloak himself. Stronger than anyone he’d ever seen go up against a Caligari like Alvarado. He should have sensed the other vampire’s presence. How in the hell had he not known? Alvarado had been coming to the club disguised as a witch for months. Gideon just hoped the woman lived.

The only people remaining were the black-cloaked Caligari standing there watching.

“Get him off her!” Rick grappled with Alvarado’s arms, trying to pull the girl free.

“Rick. Step back, please.” Miles’s face was a mask of cold fury. “Get these vampires out!”

“We will not leave. Not without our brother.” A slender male stepped forward, his expression unreadable.

“Then take him the fuck with you, or he’s going out in a pile of ashes,” Gideon seethed. “By allowing this, you are breaking covenant with me and mine.”

“We allow nothing.” The elder stepped forward. The gaunt lines of his face resembled flesh stretched across a skull.

Alvarado released the girl with a popping sound. Her body tumbled to the floor. With her red hair splayed out around her, she resembled a limp rag doll. “Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen. Now I bid you good night.”

“Miles!” Rick called out, dragging the girl away from the edge of the stage.

Alvarado became shadow, shifting with the air. He dissipated, moving over Miles like a rogue windstorm.

The fae released a blinding burst of light, scattering the remaining Caligari and sending Gideon onto his ass. Laughter echoed through the club, and anger sizzled through Gideon. He climbed to his feet and headed toward the girl, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Chapter Seven

“Are you all right?” A pair of worried eyes met hers as she stared up from the dusty stage floor. The moderator’s face was ashen, and his hands shook. Rick stood over her, his face tight with anger.

Sydney’s hand flew to her neck. A hot trickle of blood ran down and lost itself into the collar of her costume.

I’m alive. How am I still alive?

“Uhhh.” She struggled to sit, but Alvarado must have taken more than she thought. Sydney’s eyelids fluttered with the effort. All she wanted to do was get Erika and leave. Then she remembered. Rick had planned to meet her friend, and he and Erika were leaving together. She was here to blend in and investigate. Talk about batting zero on every front so far.

Sydney picked up footfalls and lifted her gaze to the approaching man. The tall figure headed for her, and she froze, her body and mind still numb from shock and blood loss.

“Help her up.” A blond Adonis stood in front of her, fury rife in his gaze. “What’s wrong with you, Clancy? You can’t just leave her on the damned floor.”

His movement was fluid, and Sydney discerned without a doubt that he was another vampire. With a well-built body under a black T-shirt tucked into black leather pants, he was sin in a pair of boots. His eyes were liquid chocolate, and she had an urge to find out if he tasted as good as he looked.

Warmth spread through Sydney’s lower body, and the bite on the side of her neck throbbed in time with something deep inside her.

Shit.

Rick stood by her. “I watched the whole thing, Gideon. He masked himself and used it to get to her.”

“Son of a bitch. Is everyone out?” Gideon raked his fingers through his hair, his lips thinned in rage.

“Yes. Except us and some sergeant at the front door demanding to see someone named Sydney.” Another man with long, silver hair smirked.

Double shit.

Sydney closed her eyes and tried to sink into the floor. Fuck. If Sergeant Richards found her laid out with another bite wound, she’d be on medical leave strapped to a bed for a month. The first one wasn’t even healed yet. Her mind spun, and she tried to get some control over herself.

Breathe.

Syd closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts. She had to stand up and get some air. Then things would make more sense.

“I want you to find him, Miles. Rick, you go, too. Make sure the club is protected. I don’t want him getting back in.”

Rick.

Erika.

“Where’s Erika?” Sydney blinked, trying to clear her head. She was meeting Rick, and he was here.

“She was with you.” Rick turned his gaze to Sydney.

“No. I left her near the stage before the event started, but when I looked up, she’d vanished.”

Rick swallowed. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Get me up,” Sydney rasped. Her head spun as Miles and Gideon plucked her from the floor. Her fingers tingled where she touched Gideon, and she snatched her hand away as if it were on fire.

Down, girl.

Miles turned his head, and she caught a flash of pointed ear. That explained a lot. The bouncers. The reputation for this being a fetish club. Since she hadn’t seen anything that screamed “fetish” except for a few too-short skirts and thong bikinis, Syd had guessed the mysterious door was hiding something interesting. She scanned the room. Every other door was painted to match the décor. Only that one stood out as something special. She guessed it must be where the rest of the action took place. The fae liked it kinky, and from the look of her vampire, so did he.

A curious sensation wound through her at the thought. She’d never taken part in anything like that, but the idea boosted a surge of energy through her blood. Gideon. He looked like an avenging angel in leather.

I wonder what your kinks are….

Syd smiled at the random thought and took two steps. Her stomach lurched. The blood loss was taking its toll. They reached to help her as she faltered, but Syd waved them off.

“Have to find her.” Sydney wobbled and kicked off her shoes. “Help me.”

Rick scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the stage, down the stairs, and onto the main floor. He set her on her feet.

“Show me the rest of the club.” Syd winced as she struggled to get back her equilibrium and make the room stop spinning. She had to find Erika. Passing out wasn’t an option.

Miles’s lips twisted upward. “You don’t look well enough to play in my half of the club, witchling.”

Gideon stalked past. He paused to open the red door that led from the party side of the club to the area the more fetish-minded adventurers frequented. A large room lay beyond, boasting black walls with stone accents. Racks with impact-play implements were arranged on one of the walls by size. Paddles, floggers, canes, a Gorean whip, and some other items even she didn’t recognize spanned the display. Sydney kept going, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was a fantasy from one of her erotic novels come to life. Here she was in a fetish club with two men in leather, and she couldn’t even play with them. Now that was a tragedy. Instead, she was here to solve a murder and needed a big glass of orange juice after the way Alvarado had used her for a sippy cup. Bastard.

“Nice dungeon,” she snorted. Her steadiness was returning, as was the growing fear that something had happened to her friend.

“Thank you.” Gideon narrowed his eyes and pushed the door open into another part of the club. “These are the themed rooms. Some of our guests like to take part in more private activities.”

“Would you like to play sometime, Red? That could be arranged.” Miles winked, a half-serious twinkle in his eye. His gaze traveled to Gideon, and she watched with some satisfaction as his jaw tightened.

Ummm. So you noticed me….

Sydney eyed the slender fae. His leather pants hugged his body like a second skin, the long-sleeved shirt flowing over his arms like a costume that had escaped the set of a pirate movie.

“Maybe when I haven’t had my throat torn open.” She winked and turned to Gideon. “Everything’s on camera?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t show up.” The voice came from behind them.

Sydney glanced backward at Rick. “What do you mean he didn’t show up?”

“I checked the footage from the stage. There was nothing. It was like you were the only person there.”

Sydney swallowed. What the hell kind of vampire doesn’t appear on camera? They always do.

“Enough, Rick,” Master Gideon bit out, his blue eyes snapping in anger.

“But….”

“No. Not in front of an outsider.” Miles shot him a narrow look and shook his head.

“There’s more than one type of vampire, is that what you’re saying?” Sydney inquired. This was important.

Gideon closed his eyes and his jaw tightened even more. When he opened them again, they were centered on her.

“Yes. I am of the Incubus tribe. There are several others with differing strengths and powers.”

“You’re an incubus? But I thought incubi were spirits?”

A slight smile tugged at Gideon’s lips. “My kind enjoy many of the same traits, but like all vampires, we need blood to survive.”

This one was dangerous…but why did her panties grow damp thinking about him burying his teeth, or anything else, inside of her?

A whisper of noise met Sydney’s ears. Faint, but enough for her to pick up. She moved away from the arguing men and centered on the whimpering sound.

How could I even hear that? Oh. The virus. Sydney neared an exit door and, without hesitating, pushed it open. The sharp blaring alarm grated against her ears, but she ignored it. Let the squabbling men worry over it. Right now, she had to find where the sound of distress was coming from.

“Where are you going?” Gideon’s voice called out to her.

She didn’t answer. As soon as she left the light of the club behind, she noticed the unnatural silence. She should have heard the men talking or noise from the street. Her nerves tingled with the feeling of wrongness. It was a trap. Her senses on alert, she listened for the sound that had summoned her. Not for the first time that night, she cursed the fact she wasn’t wearing her normal cargo pants with pockets full of spells. She could have used an illumination charm right about now.

She was in the backstreet behind the club. Darkness shrouded everything, the only light coming from the faint glow of the street light at the open end of the alley. The rank odor of refuse and the acrid scent of vomit met her nose, and she switched to breathing through her mouth. Another faint sound to her left. There. In the shadows was a pale arm. A leg.

“Oh no.”

She hurried forward, trying to ignore the spinning in her own head and reached out her hand to find her way in the dim light. As she moved, her eyes grew accustomed to the dark. Her bare feet were cold, the asphalt was rough, and she didn’t even want to think about what she was stepping in. None of it mattered except finding Erika.

As she peered into the murky black, a hand reached out and pulled her backward by the hair. The sudden pain brought tears to her eyes, and she swung outward with her fists.

“Vengeance.”

Alvarado. “Umph.”

The vampire spun her around and leered into her face. Blood smeared across his mouth, he looked the part of a deranged bloodsucking fiend, a far cry from the womanizing witch he was supposed to have been.

“You fraud. How dare you masquerade as a witch to lure them in?” she hissed.

“The same as you. A wolf in witch’s clothing.” Sinister laughter echoed down the alley.

Where the fuck were the men? She’d just left them on the other side of the damn door.

“They won’t hear you. At least not until it’s too late. I’ve spelled the alley.” He tightened his hold and lowered his face to scent her. “Lovely. A witch in her full powers is so rare to find these days. So many costumed humans playing dress-up and hoping for that special someone to sweep them off their broomsticks.” He lifted her up so her bare feet dangled in the air. Sydney kicked at him, trying to find purchase.

Icy terror seared through her as she realized just how futile her situation was. Something with teeth and claws prickled deep inside of her. She’d become adept at fighting the feral sensation since the attack. This time, she didn’t want to. Had she forgotten her pills on purpose? It mattered little now. If she didn’t embrace the monster she was becoming, she could die.

Sydney reached inside of herself and let the beast creep closer to the surface. The hunger to rip and tear. The desire to sink her teeth into this asshole and let him feel how much of a mistake he was making tickled the back of her throat. A low growl escaped her lips. She reached inside of her blouse and took out the silver binding cord.

It burned her hands, but she would fight him any way she could, even if it meant a scar or worse. The pain reminded her she was alive and still had something worth fighting for.

“Well, aren’t we the big, bad wolf?” He patted her on the head, and she snapped at him with her teeth. “What have you got there? A leash for me to walk you with?” He laughed, holding her at bay and reaching for the cord as if to take it from her. “You would look good with a collar around your neck, pretty wolf.”

Sydney swung out with the cord, slicing into the side of his face. The smell of burning flesh met her nostrils, and she had to tamp down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.

“You bitch! You’ll pay for that with your life.” Alvarado snarled and yanked her against him, knocking the cord from her hands.

Sydney screamed. Her mind raced, and she did the only thing she could think of.

“Incantare aperio! Reveal! Reveal!”

It had to work. Her life depended on it. The men had to hear her….

Teeth ripped into the side of Sydney’s neck, working at the open wound. There was no time to cry out as they changed position and plunged into the side of her face. Pain radiated through her as blood, fire, and terror closed her throat and she sank down into an unending world of darkness.

Chapter Eight

“Hold her down!”

Sydney writhed against the arms pinning her to the asphalt. Her world was a glitter ball of surreal pain, and the star of the show was the blond man brushing the messy tangle of red hair out of her face. She moved her hands along the dirty asphalt, and her fingers closed around the silver cord. It burned into her flesh, and she let out a groan.

“Jesus. Somebody take this thing.”

Hands appeared and pried her fingers from the cord, and she let out a cry.

“No. Don’t let him. No!”

More hands helped smooth hair from her face. Sydney’s vision blurred. Her hair wasn’t that color red. Not so…thick, either. She struggled to move, and as she tried once more to sit up, the man forced her back down.

“Erika. Help her.” Sydney’s arm flailed out in what she hoped was the right direction. “There.”

“Be still,” Gideon commanded. He turned to someone behind him. “Go see what the girl is pointing at.”

“Hurts.” Chills racked Sydney’s body, and she shivered. Her face was numb and rubbery, her speech was slow, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if she’d been drugged.

“Gideon, if we don’t offer aid, there is no telling what will happen. She’s tainted with wolf, but with Alvarado’s bite she could die. It’s septic at that high a concentration. And her face….”

My face? Why can’t I feel my face?

The blond man leaned in toward her and pressed a kiss to her lips, feasting on the blood smeared across them. His mouth twisted as if tasting something repulsive. Gods, he was amazing. Warmth pooled low in her belly.

“I’ll agree. The bastard tainted her. But first I want you to find that sergeant. I want her brought here now. There are a few things we will want to discuss.”

Clancy, the man from the stage, walked away, and Gideon leaned over her.

“Do you know who I am, Sydney?” He brushed a mess of hair from her eyes. “You know me as Gideon, but I’m sure with the events of the evening you’ve more than likely forgotten. I’m going to help you now, but I’ll expect your help when I ask it of you. Do you understand?” He reached down once more and pressed a kiss to her forehead. When he raised his head, he licked his lips, parting them with a sigh.

“So hot,” Sydney murmured. “You can…anytime you want.” She was numb, but warmth wound its way through her lower extremities, and she moaned. Beneath the sharp edges of desire, her body was molten to the touch. The bite on her neck tingled in a direct line to the delta between her legs. All she knew was that she wanted. Her body hungered for him. She reached up and ran her fingers up his thigh to the erection straining against his leather pants.

“Ah. No.” He cleared his throat, color touching his cheeks. He moved her hand and adjusted himself. “While I’m flattered, I think you misunderstand my request.” He leaned forward, held his arm over her, and lacerated his wrist with his nails.

Blood dripped into Sydney’s mouth. She reached out to grasp his arm and pressed it against her lips like a starving woman. She groaned, and the heat pulsing through her groin spread through her entire body.

In the distance, Sydney heard the hard cadence of boots approaching across the wooden floor.

“What the fuck are you doing with my detective, and why is she sucking on your arm?” Sergeant Debra Richards’ voice rang out, and she didn’t sound happy.

Chapter Nine

Gideon glanced up at the angry woman approaching. Dressed down in a pair of low-slung jeans, a tight white top, and a brown blazer, the sergeant was all business. Her lips pressed together, and her eyes snapped fire.

“What the holy hell are you doing?” She stepped out of the lighted club and into the darkness of the alley. Her thunderous expression screamed that she was irritated and at the end of her proverbial rope.

Gideon pulled his arm from the delirious girl’s grasp, and the flesh on it healed shut. He didn’t want to let her go. The essence of her blood on his lips had left him hard, and he wanted more than anything to bury himself within her heat. Her reaction to him was like a balm to his soul. She wasn’t human. He sensed witch and something else he couldn’t name. Whatever it was left him rocking back on his heels like a lovesick puppy. He laid her head down on the concrete, stood, and shook his head to clear the fog of lust from his mind. She needed medical attention. The warm Texas night air drifted across his face, and he caught the essence of human coming from the stranger.

“Saving a woman’s life. Why was she here alone?”

“Excuse me?”

“Miles.”

“I’m here.” The other man approached from the darkness of the alley. His eyes glowed in the sweltering night, moving from Gideon to the woman.

“Is there any sign of him anywhere near the club?”

“No. He’s gone. For now.” The man’s eyes flashed concern and kindled as they took in the attractive woman glaring daggers at them both.

The sergeant knelt down and cradled the woman’s head in her lap. She opened the girl’s eyes, sucked in a breath, and closed them again. The woman reached for her radio, spat a series of orders into it, and met Gideon’s stare. “What happened?”

Anger swirled inside of him. This witch should never be harmed. Her petite features were too still under the moon’s light, and he had to suppress an urge to pick her up and carry her back to his room. The scent of his blood entwined with the girl’s made squelching his arousal difficult.

“Do you have proof of your occupation, Sergeant? This girl is under my protection.”

The woman slid her blazer to the side and revealed a badge seated at her waist. “Sergeant Debra Richards. Armageddon Special Crimes Unit. But I wouldn’t boast about your so-called protection just now. My detective’s face is shredded.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why was this woman sent in here alone to try and apprehend a known serial killer?” Gideon stepped forward, his hands curling into fists. “And my protection, as you call it, is far-reaching. The bastard who did this will be caught. You have my word on that.”

Miles stepped forward and bowed. “Miles Langoshire at your service, Sergeant. This oaf is my business partner, Gideon Raines. We are the owners of Club Beam.”

“Nice to meet you, gentlemen. Now what the hell happened, and why is my officer laid out like a drunken club floozy?” The sergeant’s voice was a bark, tension emanating from her lips.

Gideon bit his cheek, drawing blood. The last thing he wanted or needed was a police presence at his club, even with Alvarado’s antics. Humans could be killed. It was best if his and Miles’s people handled it.

Miles arched an eyebrow, and his lips quirked up in a smirk. “Are you going to answer the lady or shall I?”

“It was a rogue vampire attack. Nothing more.” Gideon crossed his arms. Anger rippled through him. People came to Club Beam to escape from reality, not have it shoved in their faces.

“Really?”

A commotion near the door revealed a crew of paramedics pushing a gurney. Just fucking perfect.

“Yes. The matter is being handled. Thank you for your concern. I’m very sorry the officer was hurt. Perhaps we can work together so this unfortunate situation won’t be repeated.”

The sergeant’s eyes narrowed as she stood and gave the medics room to work. They hefted the still form of the young woman onto the rolling cart and pushed her toward the entrance. Something within him twinged. His blood inside her would do its job. She would heal, and, if God was kind, he would never encounter her again. That would be better for them both. What he couldn’t shake was the sense of connection between them, even before she’d taken liberties and groped his crotch. He hadn’t reacted to a woman that way in a long time.

“Somehow I don’t think so, Mr. Raines.” Sergeant Richards got to her feet and followed the gurney out of the alley back into the lit sanctuary of the club.

Chapter Ten

The late-morning sun filtered through the blinds and hit Sydney right in the eyes. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, postponing the inevitable. She had been lolling around in the sheets for a good two hours after another fitful night but had resisted the urge to roll out of bed. What was the point? She still had three days left of a mandatory three-month medical leave of absence, and there was nothing to get up for. Besides, she was exhausted. At war with herself, she had to decide which was worse, smothering herself with a pillow or letting the sun bake her as she sweated to death.

The bite on her throat throbbed. Shame and a rush of fear and desire pulsed through her. A stab of annoyance followed as she stared out of the protective gauze wrapped around her face. Alvarado had shredded her, body and soul. They’d found her moments later with her face hideously torn up.

Erika.

Tears gathered in her eyes at the thought of her friend. They’d discovered Erika’s near-lifeless body moments after finding hers sprawled out on the street.

Damn vampire. They had her on sick leave while the doctors determined whether or not she would turn fangy. Or furry. No one could seem to make up their minds. It was beyond frustrating.

The tests had come back inconclusive. She never should have let herself get in so deep without waiting for proper backup. She was a witch, dammit. That’s why they paid her the big bucks. She didn’t make mistakes. Ever. Except this time she had. A big one, and she and Erika had almost died for it.

She shut her eyes against the nightmarish images that played across her mind and focused on her breathing like the shrink had trained her to do.

Breathe.

Stop. No thought.

Breathe.

Center yourself.

Find a routine. Find normal.

Except right now there was no normal. It was hurry up and wait. Heal and pray she didn’t turn into some kind of monster. That thought came with mixed emotions. If she hadn’t forgotten her pill, she might well be dead. The Lupine virus raging through her system was the only thing that had kept her alive after all the blood loss. That and the amazing man who had come to her aid. Master Gideon.

Just the thought of him scorched her panties and made her slick between her thighs. She had dreamed of him coming to her in the night like an incubus, filling her with his cock and making her scream with the delights he offered her hungry and wanton flesh. He always came after a bad nightmare. In the hazy layer in between sleep, she knew he was with her, comforting her both body and soul against the darkness.

Alvarado had taken everything and had made her life a living hell. Her sergeant, Debra Richards, was furious with her for botching an investigation they’d been working on for months. The vampire serial killer was still out there, and here she sat, cooped up in her house recuperating between shrink visits and endless medical tests. Her best friend was still in a coma, and Syd hadn’t been allowed to visit because of the virus and the possibility she would turn furry. Her partner was still out and refused to answer her texts. And to top it off, she was scheduled to have the gauze peeled from her face today. That was a good thing, but she was terrified.

Trepidation surged through her veins. Her sergeant had seen to the procedure while she’d been incapacitated.

“Don’t you dare touch those bindings, Sydney. I’ll have your ass in a sling so high, you’ll think it was a wedgie gone wrong. Leave it. And don’t you dare unwrap them until I’m there to help you.”

Syd replayed the scene in her mind and sighed. She didn’t understand why the sergeant needed to be there for the great unveiling. All she wanted to do was take a shower and let the water run over her then go to her next shrink visit so she could get cleared for active duty again. It was time to get back to work. She was damn tired of sitting around the house while that bastard Alvarado was out there massacring the female witch population of Armageddon. The only pleasure she had was the knowledge he couldn’t work his magic at the Beam again. At least not in that form.

Unease trickled through her. If he’d had a witch feeding him magic before, what was to stop him from using another glamour?

Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Shit.

Syd looked at the clock on the wall and ground her teeth. She needed to talk to Debra and get back on the streets.

The skin under the gauze itched as if matching her impatience. Staying home was wearing very thin, and it was time to get back. She would know those cold eyes anywhere. No matter the guise, she’d take him down piece by piece.

“Goddess, I fucking hate this.” Sydney twisted in the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. Weeks spent pouring over her spell books and preparing to wreak some havoc on his life were making her edgy. And if she was right, the doctor would have some other considerations to factor in. Like the Lupine virus and how it affected her with the added complication of the vampire bite, and whether she was able to return to duty.

Then there was Master Gideon. Her last real memory of him was latching onto his arm like a blood-crazed lunatic while she grabbed the front of his leather-clad groin. The memory brought even more heat to her skin. The dreams had also amplified her desire. Did she have a connection with him because of his blood? She licked her lips and sighed.

Nympho horn dog. It was mortifying. Breathe.

She needed to stop thinking about that hot fucking vampire. In her dreams, sometimes it got confusing, his teeth sinking into her throat while she pressed against his erection. Sydney wanted to block out everything about that night, but his brown eyes and beckoning lips haunted her dreams. He hadn’t bitten her at all. Alvarado had. Her brain was crossing wires again, and it was enough to drive a sane witch crazy.

Oh Goddess!

She lay there panting, trying to shut off the mix of fear and pleasure that bubbled to the surface whenever she thought about Master Gideon’s mouth on her. Sydney shuddered, and the rush of excitement shot right to her core.

It was hot in here. So much for clearing her mind. She gave up and lifted her head from the pillow. That was it. The heat and the boredom were driving her insane. Maybe if she got up and worked in her spell room for a while…. Yes, that would do it. She had to finish mixing the binding powder and curse-reversal dust. Today was as good a time as any.

The fan that jetted at full speed in the corner of her room was off again. She glanced at the nightstand and saw the alarm clock was dead, too. That meant the power had cratered in the middle of the night and was still down. She checked the wards around the house, and they pinged back that they were still active. Brownouts were another unfortunate fact of life in Armageddon, Texas, in the summer. Lying here in the heat was getting unbearable as the sun burned through the window. Without air, the room was intolerable, and she preferred being up at night instead of the day. Heavy curtains would be on her shopping list the second she could leave the house.

Sydney threw the sheets back with an angry huff, yanked her nightshirt down around her hips, and peeled her hair up off her neck. She smiled as the air hit the damp, sweaty skin.

She plodded into the bathroom, handled her morning necessities, and went to the sink to wash. As the cool water touched her skin, she sighed. What she wouldn’t give to splash it in her face. She reached for the towel, yanked it off the wall ring, and blotted her hands dry.

Mirrors were not her friend. They never had been. Her nose was just a little too long and her chin a little too sharp. This time, though, the bandages made her cringe instead. They covered her face like a white shroud, and her fingers itched to pull them off. She brushed her long, red hair and put it back up into a clip, her green eyes twinkling through the gauze.

Sydney eyed the cell phone on the bathroom counter and nibbled her lip. Should she text Debra? She was coming today, but sooner would be better than later, she supposed. They’d talked on the phone, but she hadn’t seen Debra in almost a month. Even then, the visit had been filled with stilted tones. She hadn’t been able to meet Syd’s eyes.

What the fuck had that been about?

Maybe they would let her go. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed her mind. The second case she’d screwed up was by far the worst, and the body count around her continued to grow. If Debra fired her, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

“Maybe she should.”

She shuddered as the memory invaded her mind once more. Dark eyes held her captive as Alvarado’s fangs sank into her again and again. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor as the whole night replayed itself in her head. Alvarado’s furious eyes. The cool elegance of Master Gideon as he tried to repair the damage to her body and mind. Everything she had been before that night hung in tatters along with the witch costume. Nothing of her former life was the same. The hollow sensation just wouldn’t go away.

She couldn’t tell if it was genuine attraction to the man or excitement from the extreme emotion of the situation. Dreams of him bending her over the large wooden spanking bench in his gallery of fetish equipment and fucking her senseless were about to drive her insane. The pleasure of his cock at her pussy. Slamming their bodies together. Fusing as they became one again and again. Her teeth pressed against the flesh of his arm. The whirlwind of rampant images left her wanting. Need. Lust.

The dream had faded, but she could still sense him there, those brown eyes daring her to meet him halfway. Sydney wanted to meet him more than halfway, but the conditions of her confinement were rigid. Only the sergeant was allowed to see her, and she spoke to the shrink over the phone. It was awkward, but today all of that would end. Months of isolation would be over.

She’d almost bled out waiting for the ambulance and had needed a lot of blood to get stable again. Physically, that is. Alvarado’s triumph was still with her every moment of every day. That and her failure to do her job. Hatred for the vampire who had almost killed her combined with a raw, primal need for the one who had saved her. It was pissing her off. She was a sniveling hot mess with her hair sticking up in odd angles. It was like after-sex hair but without the fun.

She needed to get her shit together. With that thought, the power flipped back on, and the whir of the air conditioner made a sigh burst from her lips. Thank Goddess. Sydney flipped the shower on, walked over to her desk, and revved up her laptop. She opened her e-mail account and saw the same old crap e-mails from the day before. She sighed, picked up the cell phone on the desk, and typed out a message to Debra.

When are you coming today?

Chapter Eleven

Gideon tossed and turned in the darkness of his room. Another day spent thinking of the red-headed witch who had dared to stand up to Alvarado. He’d watched the security footage over and over, marveling at the counter enchantments she’d woven from his half-assed spells. However, the bastard was nowhere on the tapes. Miles and Rick had gone over the recording inch by inch before he even saw them. It was fucking unreal.

Whomever the Caligari Clan had working for them had crafted a glamour strong enough to hide Alvarado’s true identity from him for months. Everyone in the club knew him as a witch with a taste for the ladies. That was nothing unusual. Only when women started turning up dead did the pieces fall into place. The women he’d had contact with, the contests, the Caligari’s unaccounted-for presence at some of the bouts. It had made little sense. Not until that last night.

He’d had his run-ins with the Caligari Clan in the past, but at Club Beam, he’d struggled to keep things neutral and provide a place for everyone to let down their guard and enjoy themselves. Business had been good. Now with the police investigation, people were cautious. Fetish clubs were by their very nature private places. It didn’t suit the club or its patrons to have police watching his every move. They used unmarked cars, but he knew.

“You’re still awake, aren’t you?” The door opened, and Miles stood there, a drink in his hand. The golden light of the morning sun filtered through the hallway, illuminating his long, silvery hair.

“Shut the door,” Gideon said, exasperated. He reached over, flipped on the light, and braced himself against the headboard.

“You know we need to do something, don’t you? Hire some new girls for the bar. Get more bouncers. Set up more contests and get the witches coming back.”

“I know.”

Miles took a sip of the wine. “She’s fine. I checked.”

“Who?”

“Don’t be droll, Gideon. It doesn’t suit you.”

Gideon pursed his lips and stared at the wall. How could he fail to know? The blood he’d exchanged with the girl brought him into her dreams every night. He experienced her panic when the nightmares grew too hard to bear and the utter relief she found in his arms as the storm cleared. That and the sex. Great Gods, but he dreamed of fucking her every way a man could love a woman. It was damn near killing him. His race, the Incubi, came to their victims in their dreams, stealing their souls and their blood. Leave it to him to play nursemaid to a scared witch.

“She lives just on the outskirts of town in a small house with a very convenient yard. The trees are dense, and one can sit for hours watching her toss and turn, whispering your name while she sleeps.”

His eyes darted back toward Miles. “What are you talking about?”

“You asked me to keep an eye on your fair maiden now and again, so I have. It’s not too hard to find out about a red-headed witch who is an enforcer for the Special Crimes Unit.” Miles paused and swirled the liquid in his glass.

“Go on.”

“Ask me what else.”

Gideon growled, his teeth extending.

“Fine.” Miles held up his hands. “Your girl was attacked by a were just weeks before landing on our doorstep to play bait for Alvarado. Seems she was here undercover and got dragged into the competition. Rick was dating the best friend, and the redhead came along as an escort so the girl wouldn’t be alone.”

“What girl?”

“The other one who was taken from the alley. Erika somebody. She’s still in a coma. Bastard took more from her than just a little blood this time. Seems he took some of her life force.”

Fury ripped through Gideon. “Fucking Caligari. They’ll stop at nothing to bring a war between humankind and vampires. They want things back the way they used to be.”

Miles sighed. “You have to admit, the old ways had their advantages.”

“No. They just had casualties.”

Miles chuckled. “So you say. Do you want to know?”

“What?”

“Do you want to know her name?”

Chapter Twelve

Sydney stared at the screen of her phone and then gave up. Everyone but her had lives that kept them busy. Disgusted, she dropped it back on the desk.

“I hate this.”

She closed the computer and went back into the bathroom, pulling the nightshirt down over her head as she went. She’d feel better after a shower. Syd opened the glass door and stepped into the cool blast of water, shuddering as the force of it hit her skin. Showering with the gauze on her face was tricky, and she had to aim the spray low or chance getting the mask wet.

Sydney lathered herself up. She closed her eyes and let the water run over her breasts and down past her naughty places. Goddess, she was horny. Too much boredom and too many smut novels twisting in her mind.

She poured some shampoo into her palm and massaged it into her scalp, stepping back under the stream of water with care. The full force of the spray dislodged the suds and sent them streaming down her curves. Syd ran her fingers through the long strands. She moaned, remembering a novella she had read with a hot shower scene.

Rinsing her hair, she let the water stream down her body, sinking into the fantasy. Master Gideon’s hands caressing her. She reached for the showerhead and snicked it over a couple notches until it shot out a concentrated spray then aimed it at her most tender places. The force of the water hit her clitoris, and she moaned, spreading her legs wider, balancing against the shower walls. Syd’s free hand roamed along her breasts, pinching her nipples into rosebud points and sending a rush of moisture into her pussy. With steady progress Syd’s hand moved downward, coaxing her body open, and she jabbed two fingers into her greedy pussy. Gasping, she aimed the shower head and thrust with her fingers, wishing they were something bigger. She rocked forward on her feet, letting the water caress her and tease her erect nub.

Sydney delved deeper. She thrust into her center again and again the tension building. She gave a strangled cry, and her orgasm rippled through her in a warm rush, and she hit the unforgiving, cold tile wall. Removing her shaking hand, she steadied herself, letting the stream of water sluice down her tummy.

From the bedroom, her cell rang. She opened the shower door and yanked a towel off the rack. She wrapped it around herself as she ran on shaking legs for the phone, dripping water across the tile and carpet as she went.

Chapter Thirteen

Gideon dreamed of the woman. Sydney. He’d heard someone mention her name that night, but he hadn’t connected it with the woman. Now he did. She stood naked save for the red, four-inch-heel fuck-me shoes at the entrance to the Red Door. Her red hair fell down her back to just above her heart-shaped ass. Sydney’s eyes met his over the curve of her ivory shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You.”

“But I’m already here.” Sydney turned to him, her full breasts hidden by the length of her hair, the downy mound of her sex visible. She beckoned him closer, swiveled on her heel and sashayed through the forbidden doorway. He only granted those who needed the sting of the whip or the bite of his flogger entrance.

Gideon grew hard watching her as she proceeded through the dungeon space. Where the fuck was she going? She continued toward the theme rooms, not faltering in her mission.

Sydney’s steps slowed as she reached the end of the long hallway. She gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open. He followed close behind, his cock straining against his leather pants.

They entered one of the bedroom scenes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a room. She crawled up on the bed and lay back, her thighs parted.

“Are you coming?”

The petals of her sex beckoned him, and his fangs distended. He had to taste her.

Gideon shut the door behind him and locked it with a quick turn of the fingers in his haste to return to her. His time with Sydney would bear no interruption. Gideon approached her, this woman who had bewitched him after a single night. All they had shared was his blood, but that had been enough. He peeled off his leather pants and boots and padded naked to the bed, his cock stretched out proudly before him.

The bed and the woman within it welcomed him with open arms. He moved between her thighs, his cock already beading with want. He wanted to take his time, but some part of him knew he needed to claim her now, before it was too late.

His tongue lapped at her rose-tipped nipples. He sucked one and then another, making her writhe beneath his weight.

“I need you, Sydney.”

Her green eyes, now hooded with desire, stared into his. Her lips turned up in a sultry smile. “Then take me.”

She moved against him and reached between their bodies and guided him to her pussy. The thick tip of his cock breached her slit, and she cried out, wrapping her legs around him.

“Make me yours,” she whispered into his hair.

He moved inside of her, filling all of her hollow places with his body. She raked her nails down his back, and he resisted the urge to bury his fangs in her soft flesh. He angled himself and began to piston between her thighs.

All too soon, his balls constricted, and he sensed the coming tide of his passion. Gideon pressed his finger between them and massaged her erect clit. Her body clenched around him, her cries echoing through his room as she orgasmed against his cock, sending him into his own spiral of spent need and, finally, darkness.

He awoke tangled in the sheets, evidence of his solitary occupation on the surrounding bedclothes. Gideon traced the empty pillow next to him and sighed. He had to find this witch girl or go mad with trying. The endless dreams preyed on his mind, and something inside warned him that the episode between the clans would not be over so easily. Incubi and the Caligari had been enemies for a long time. Peace had been fragile, but they’d each respected the other’s territory. Something had changed.

“Sydney,” he whispered and closed his eyes with the memory of his blood on her lips. “I’ll find you.”

Chapter Fourteen

The phone rang again, and Sydney struggled to pick it up one-handed.

“Shit. Hello!” She juggled the towel, her arm jerking backward. Her elbow cracked against the hard chair back, and she almost dropped her towel as stars flashed behind her eyes.

Shit. Shit. Shit, that hurt!

A boneless sensation of pain traveled up her arm. Whoever had named that the funny bone had to be a moron.

“Well hello to you too, Syd.”

Oh God. It’s Debra. Sydney’s body warmed as she remembered what she had just been doing.

“Umm. Hi.” She wrapped the towel tight around herself while she clutched the phone in her other hand.

“Hi? What have you been doing? Obsessing about that hunky vamp again?”

Syd’s face flamed up beneath the gauze. She flailed with the towel as it slipped, grabbing it and tucking it under her arm.

“Honestly, yes. Thanks sooo much for calling to see how the hole that is my face is doing.” She paced the bedroom floor and shot a bird at the phone. Not that Debra could see.

“Get off it, Syd. I’m almost at your house. Dr. Barnes is with me.”

“Oh.” Oh! “How far away are you?” Syd ran back to the bathroom and flung the towel over the edge of the bathtub. She reached for her deodorant and slicked it on as she bolted back into the bedroom for a bra and panties.

“Not far. We’re turning onto your street now.”

“Okay. Gotta get dressed, then.”

Debra chuckled. “Are we streaking through the house? Such a lady of leisure you are these days.”

Syd growled and hit End Call on the phone and threw it on the bed. She tugged on the bra and stepped into the panties, trying not to fall. Her equilibrium was shot, and having the gauze mask across her face wasn’t helping with depth perception.

Yesterday’s folded laundry still sat in the basket, and she said a quick prayer of thanks for her own laziness. Her favorite Fight Like a Girl T-shirt rested on top with a gray pair of calf-length sweats. She popped the shirt over her head and slipped the pants on just as the doorbell rang.

Chapter Fifteen

Sydney paused in front of the door and took a deep breath. This was it. The gauze was coming off, and she would finally get to talk to Debra about coming back to work. It was time. She swallowed, reached, and released the deadbolt, opening the door. A wave of Texas heat rolled in.

“Hello there, lazybones.” Sergeant Debra Richards smirked. The hip-hugging pants and purple button-down shirt with white top underneath said casual but serious. The boots she wore said everything else. She didn’t take shit from anyone. “You remember Dr. Barnes?”

“Hi, and no I don’t, seeing as I was a pile of hamburger. How do you do?” Sydney waved them inside and shut the door against the bright sunlight. They wandered through the living room and took seats at the breakfast bar.

“Would you like some bottled water?” Syd padded into the kitchen, conscious she was under scrutiny.

“Yes. Please.”

“Thank you, Ms. Marr. I would.” Dr. Barnes rested his arms on the counter. “How are you feeling?” He fiddled with his glasses, watching her every move.

Sydney grimaced. “Better, I think. My face was itching about a week ago, but it seems fine now. Just hot under all this gauze.”

“I expect it would be.” The doctor glanced over at Debra and then back to Sydney as she handed them both water.

“Thanks, Syd.”

“Thank you, Ms. Marr.”

“You’re welcome.” Sydney popped open her bottle and wished she’d woken up earlier so she could’ve had a moment of peace with a mega mug of coffee, but the thought of drinking anything hot right now made her stomach turn.

“Okay. Let’s cut to the chase. Have you been having any other side effects from the bites?” Her sergeant’s gaze was unwavering.

Sydney hesitated. Why prolong the inevitable? All they’d have to do was demand a blood test and the results would be out there for the world to see. She wasn’t the same woman who had gone to the club that night and never would be again.

“Yes.” She met their eyes and nodded. “The dreams are back with a vengeance, and there are some things I’ve noticed.”

“What?” The doctor straightened in his chair and took out a small notebook from his suit jacket.

Sydney sighed. “My eating habits have changed, and I get more tired during the daylight hours. Especially when it’s sunny like today.” She walked over to the kitchen blinds and snapped them shut.

“Can we take off the gauze, Doctor?”

“I think so, Sergeant Richards. Sydney, can you please come here?” The doctor slid off the stool and reached for his bag. He withdrew a small pair of scissors and a scalpel.

Syd approached, her stomach twisting in knots. This was what she wanted. To get on with her life. To find out how her face had healed.

“Please sit here at the dining room table.”

Syd slid into a chair and gripped the side of the seat. The doctor held up the small pair of scissors and gingerly cut into the gauze. He used the scalpel but continued around her head, his grip steady. The gauze fell away under his expert ministrations, and her sergeant gasped. Sydney’s gaze craned up and sought the mirror on the dining room wall. The face staring back at her was that of a stranger.

Chapter Sixteen

“Oh my God.” Sydney stood up and stalked toward the mirror, her eyes never breaking contact with the woman in the glass. Her green eyes flickered in the dim light of the room and burned yellow. A growl escaped her lips, and she gasped at the pain threading through her body.

“Sydney…,” Debra called out.

“Ms. Marr, you have a face again. I thought you would be pleased.”

The doctor appeared beside her in the mirror, his mien one of stilted concern.

“It’s not me,” she whispered. “How can it not be me?” Tears gathered in her eyes as Sydney turned to face the doctor. His expression became calculated.

“Syd. Please.” Debra interjected, pushing past the doctor, taking her by the upper arms. A tall woman, she stared down into Syd’s eyes. “I need you to calm down and be rational about this.”

Realization hit her like a brick to the stomach.

“You did this.” Sydney backed away, her mind awash with horror. “You had him give me a new face. How could you do that?”

Sydney’s stomach lurched, and the water she’d just swallowed threatened to come back up. Debra had known all this time and hadn’t said a word. Not given her one solitary clue. Her mind raced back to that night and the blur of activity following the attack. Debra at the club. Master Gideon’s response and the abrupt way she was torn from him. The way Debra couldn’t look at her when she came to check on her a month ago.

That part she hadn’t remembered until now. Before the series of events had just been a fuzzy dream. Now they stood out stark against the reality literally staring her in the face. The injury. The surgery that probably should have healed by now—without her face being hidden. What a fucking crock. The betrayal rocked her to the core.

“I had to, Syd.”

Tears blurred her vision as Sydney turned and darted down the hall to the bathroom. She reached the toilet just in time. Stomach twisting, she leaned over the porcelain bowl as her guts threatened to turn inside out.

Debra pulled a loose clump of hair from her face and twisted it back into the messy updo it had been in before. She laid a hand on her back and rubbed it as Sydney sobbed and retched into the commode.

“I know you don’t understand why I did it, but if you’ll listen….”

“No. You—” Sydney gagged as another wave of retching shook her. Her eyes burned and a snarl slipped past her lips. She slapped at Debra’s hand, furious.

“Doctor!” Debra pulled her hand away and stepped back.

Sydney’s body twinged, and a ripple of muscle spasms laid her out on the cold tile floor. Her limbs contorted, and the fine hair on her arms coarsened and turned dark. A scream that morphed to a howl tore through her lips.

The doctor appeared in the doorway, his earlier concerned expression now a mask of clinical detachment. “I want to see how far the change goes.”

“No. You have to make it stop!” Debra protested, horror spreading across her face.

“Be silent.”

His icy gaze crept over Syd as she progressed and then faltered in the change. He withdrew a syringe from his suit pocket and stood over her as she gasped and flailed.

Debra shook her head vehemently. “But she’s too weak to have it go all the way yet. Her body is still trying to fight the Lupine infection while coping with the healing process of her face. There is also the factor of the vampire blood she ingested.”

The doctor’s eyes bored into Debra. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, but you will have to be more direct on what it is you expect me to do. What did you hope the outcome of your little experiment would be?”

Syd trained her wide eyes on the doctor and the sergeant she’d trusted. They knew she’d gone to the club that night, but how? Her memory went back farther to the incident when she’d been bitten by the wolf. She’d been knocked out at the hospital when they stitched up her arm. They could have put a tracking device inside her and she wouldn’t have known. Syd looked down at the scar and considered. James was still out, his leg broken from the fall he’d taken trying to protect her. Did he know? He never returned her texts. It frightened her. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the cold floor, thankful she’d given in to a cleaning binge just yesterday.

Her muscles clenched, and she willed them to relax. Let the bastard think her body was reacting that way because she was weak. She was no one’s pet monkey—or werewolf—to do tricks on command.

“I don’t know.” Debra faltered. “I wanted to know what we were dealing with here. Especially after the incident with James I had to know if she would turn or not. Damn that bastard Gideon feeding her his blood. I could have shot him.”

Incident with James? What is she talking about?

“Her face, Sergeant…. Are you going to tell the girl what you require of her?”

Syd kept her eyes shut, her mind churning with what she’d just learned. The pain was subsiding, and she was gaining control of her body once more.

“Sydney? Can you hear me?”

“The young woman can hear you perfectly well. In fact, the episode is over for now, so you can quit pretending, Sydney.”

She opened her eyes and pulled her body into a sitting position. “What are you talking about? What about James?”

Debra blushed and brought her eyes up to meet Sydney’s. “I know you think I betrayed you, but I’ve helped you.”

Sydney snorted. “If this is you helping me, then please don’t.” Her voice was thick and her tongue tasted like the bottom of an ashtray. She climbed to her feet, padded over to the sink, and uncapped the toothpaste. She squirted some onto a toothbrush and ran it under the tap. Stabbing it into her mouth, she watched the doctor and Debra.

“You don’t understand.” Debra went over, flushed the commode, and slammed the lid down so she could sit.

“What’s there to understand? You took my face.” Syd pushed the toothbrush into her mouth once more and scrubbed at her tongue. She spit into the sink and ran the water, rinsed the brush, and tucked it back into the holder. She turned and wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the wall rack.

“No.” Debra shook her head. “You have to trust me on this, Syd.” She stood up and reached for her hands. “Alvarado is the one who took your face. I and the good doctor here gave it back to you. Just different.”

“Why? Why did you have to make it different? It was mine.” Syd’s voice came out small, and she hated herself for it, but the raw emotion was too much to conquer.

“I know and I’m sorry, but hear me out. Please?”

Syd nodded, afraid to speak.

“When I saw you there in pool of blood with your face lacerated and that Gideon feeding you from his hand, I just snapped. He had no right to interfere in the investigation.”

“He saved my life.”

“I know he did. Now.” Debra said, sounding chagrined. “The point is, at the time all I saw was your face, and I knew we had to do something. You would live. There was never any question. The Lupine virus was already working in your system. We just had to move to get your face fixed before the bones set.”

“What do you mean?” A cold, steady sense of dread snaked its way through Syd.

“What the sergeant in her infinite wisdom means is she called me in to give you a new face so you could complete the investigation you ruined.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I wish I was. You forced me to do something drastic, Sydney. We have to stop these murders, and you were and are the best cop we have.”

“So, I get a new face and I go back in, is that it?”

“Yes.”

The doctor chuckled. “You haven’t told her the rest, Sergeant. Would you like to or shall I?”

Syd looked from one to the other. “Tell me what?”

Debra took a deep breath. “The pills you were on are placebos. You have the Lupine virus. The vampire blood in your system, combined with your witch heritage, made you unique enough that the doctor volunteered his services if he could monitor you and see how they interacted.”

“What?” Syd turned and leaned back against the sink.

Debra held up her hand. “When you were bitten the first time, we implanted a device to monitor your body and keep track of changes. Some of the local packs use the technology to help work with new pups. It performs pretty well. What we didn’t count on was you running off to a vampire bar. How could you do that to the investigation?”

“How could I do that?” Sydney ground out. “I was helping a friend who now, because of me, is in a fucking coma and may never be right again. She asked me to go with her, and I was so busy working your case I let myself get dragged in over my head. I fucked up.” Syd ran her hand across her forehead, trying to calm the beast struggling to get out from beneath her skin.

“You went there alone against express orders not to do so.”

“James is on medical leave. What did you want me to do, hand him a pair of crutches?”

“Wait for me so I could have helped you.”

Heat crept up the back of Sydney’s neck. “So I’m a glorified lab rat? Is that what you’re telling me? And speaking of James, what did you mean?”

Debra looked away, once more not meeting her eyes. “I think that conversation is best for another time.”

“He’s my partner, and I haven’t gotten as much as a text message from him since I’ve been in here on house arrest. So no. I don’t want it to be for another time.”

“No, Syd. I’m not going to go there with you right now. What I’m telling you is to quit feeling sorry for yourself and get your ass back to work. There’s more riding on this case than you know.”

Chapter Seventeen

Gideon read the papers in front of him, the words swimming. They still hadn’t found the bastard Alvarado. Judging by the figures he’d glanced at, the numbers for the club were looking better, but he didn’t fucking care. He wanted Sydney. Waking up wrapped in sticky sheets was getting more than old. Miles and Rick avoided him on principle because he was becoming such a cranky bastard.

Another piece of paper sat on the corner of his desk—another reason for his ire. Her address, courtesy of Miles. The damn fae knew where she lived. He visited her, offering reports of her well-being, but tonight he refused to look at Gideon. Something was wrong.

Gideon snatched the paper off the desk and slipped it into his pocket unread. He needed to walk. Once he got outside, he’d think about whether he would pay her a visit, but for now just doing something other than waiting around for a girl he’d encountered once to come back into a club she was nearly killed at just struck him as completely stupid, bordering on moronic.

They were connected by blood and his damnable habit of popping into people’s dreams. That was it. He needed to be real about this. The girl didn’t care about him. How could she?

Gideon pulled on a pair of jeans and boots, watching the moon. It was growing full once again. A pile of laundry sat waiting for him to put away, courtesy of Miles’s domestic arrangements. Having a sub at his beck and call must be nice. He threw a T-shirt over his head and strode out into the main part of the club, past the inquiring gazes of his friends and out into the night.

Chapter Eighteen

“So, why do you want to work at Club Beam?” The tired day manager glossed over Sydney’s job application and tried to stifle a yawn.

The club in the daytime looked tired and worn. A woman swept the wooden floors along the stage, and another wiped the tables, getting things put to rights for the evening. It was almost five o’clock, and the club would open soon.

Syd sighed and wound her finger through her dyed black hair. It was still jarring to look at it, and for a moment, she forgot what he’d asked her.

“Sorry. What was the question again?”

The man shook his head, his expression one of annoyance. “I asked you why you want to work at Club Beam.”

“Oh.” Sydney giggled, trying her best to act the part of a carefree girl out for a good time and a few extra dollars. “I just want a job I can do around my classes. I heard you could make some good money working the bar.”

“Yeah.” He eyed her plunging neckline and gave her answer a thought. “Okay. You’re hired. Go see Rick at the bar, and he’ll give you your marching orders.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

Syd leveraged herself out of the chair and tottered over to the bar. The strappy heels and Daisy Dukes were a walking advertisement for long legs, and the painted-on low-neck T-shirt gave plenty of clues to what lay beneath. Makeup caked on, she felt like a hooker, but at least she’d gotten the job.

She eased up to the bar and gave Rick her best come-hither smile. This would be one of the first tests to see if she could get past someone who knew her as Syd, the detective who’d almost bled out in the back alley. He was a vampire and might trace her scent. The doctor had given her some perfume to help mask it, but there was always a chance it might not work.

“Hey. You must be the new girl.”

“Hi. Yes. I’m Raven.”

“Great name.” Rick smiled and cocked his head. “I have some paperwork I’ll send home with you, but, if you have time, I’d like to get you started.”

“Okay.” She scampered over and in no time was taking orders and working the room. Syd discovered she liked the customers and she was good at balancing the giant round drink tray.

Hours later, Syd leaned against the bar, and Rick handed her a glass of water.

“I can’t get over how well you’ve done.” He grinned.

The exhaustion was setting in, and Syd’s feet were throbbing like two meat mallets. “Thanks. Just remind me not to wear these stupid shoes again.”

“Honey, if you didn’t wear those shoes and those shorts, your tips wouldn’t be as good.” He pointed to the flash of green poking out of her shorts pocket.

“Ouch. You know how to wound a girl, don’t you?” Syd winced and gave him a pained expression.

A chuckle escaped the burly vampire. “Nope. Just the truth. You’ve got some good legs, and these people appreciate it. You’ve been at this a while. Are you sure you can last another hour?”

Syd nodded. “I think so. Why?”

“Some of the guests in the fetish hall will come out after their sessions and want a drink before they retire for the evening.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Yep. The Beam has many hidden facets. The Red Door is one of them.” He poured out two drinks and set them on her tray. “Here you go.”

“Now you have me intrigued.” Syd nibbled on her lip. She stared at the door off the main room. She remembered it from her first night here. Was Alvarado here among them? She hadn’t come across any familiar energy signatures yet, but the night was just beginning. She picked up her tray and stabilized it. “Thanks.”

Syd wandered off into the crowd of partiers, her reason for being here present in her every thought. Her mission might have been to take down Alvarado, but she hoped to see a certain chocolate-eyed vampire. The club had only been open a few hours. After months of waiting, she could play her part and then some.

I’ll see you again, Master Gideon. It’s just a matter of time.

Chapter Nineteen

Gideon stood in front of her small house for the second time in a week. The first night the shades had been drawn, but tonight he could see movement inside. It had taken her a long time to come home, and he’d been beside himself with worry. Lights were on in the back bedroom, and, through the gauzy curtains, he saw the form of a young woman. Only her hair was a mass of black curls, not red.

“Great. You’re turning into a fucking voyeur.” He kicked his shoe into the sidewalk and started to turn away. Watching her was a hidden thrill, but now that he knew she was all right, he could try to leave her in peace.

Maybe.

“You are, you know. It’s a terribly bad habit to get into.”

“Miles.” Gideon gritted his teeth.

“You’re far too predictable.” Miles appeared from the darkness and stood next to him on the sidewalk.

“Apparently so,” he replied dryly. “Her hair is dark? When did that happen?”

“It would seem so. I was out here a few days ago, and she had some visitors. The lovely sergeant and a doctor I didn’t recognize. The gauze came off, and well…so did I, nearly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither did she.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes. “Will you spit it out?” He wanted to reach out and strangle his friend. Did everything have to be dragged out of him?

“They changed her features, Gideon.” Miles’s face slid into a frown. “I’m afraid I was a rather naughty boy and listened in more closely than I should have.”

“Go on.”

“They’re sending her back in to trap Alvarado again. They think she’ll be able to spot him where we won’t.”

“Back where?”

“To the club. Our little Raven has come home to roost.”

Anxiety twisted Gideon’s insides, a bitter mixture of hope and despair. Alvarado and the Caligari would stop at nothing to start a war, no matter how many women died in the process. “I don’t understand.”

“You will. Rick just hired her as our new barmaid.”

Chapter Twenty

“Here you go, Raven. Scotch and soda for table two and a round of Sex on the Beach for the ladies in the back.”

“Thanks, Rick.” It was her second week at Club Beam and still no sign of Alvarado. Master Gideon was also curiously absent. A silver-haired fae man watched her from afar, and it didn’t bother her. He reminded her of Gideon, ever watchful.

She heaved the tray onto her shoulder and sashayed across the room. Tonight was a real karaoke event, and every human in the city who thought they could sing lined up along the stage to belt out the latest pop songs. Most of them were deep into their glasses and low on inhibitions.

The door to the other part of the club stayed closed. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have ever believed the two clubs would be under the same roof. The bouncers she remembered from before oversaw the crowd and kept an eye on the door to make sure no one went near it who wasn’t supposed to.

Syd worked her tables and filled orders, the image of a perfect barmaid. Rick was quick to praise her or give her a correction, and after months of boredom, she appreciated the activity. The hours were long, but when she got home close to dawn on especially late nights, she dropped into bed for a dreamless sleep.

Tonight she was a little tired, and when someone brushed her arm, she yelped, almost dropping the platter of drinks.

“Here. Let me.” Master Gideon plucked the tray from her hands. With a flourish, he set it down on the table. He wore a cranberry shirt tucked into the leather pants she remembered so well. His blond hair was swept back from his face, brown soulful eyes boring into hers.

“Thanks.”

“No. Thank you. I hear from Rick that you’re doing a marvelous job.” Master Gideon’s lips curved upward in a smile that set all her nerve endings on edge.

“I…. Thank you again.” Sydney blushed, lowering her eyes. Her blood knew him, and her core reacted. Threads of desire wound tight through her body, and she had to stifle a gasp.

Master Gideon cocked his head. “You remind me of someone. Have you been here before?” He picked up the tray and held it out to her.

Oh my Goddess! Does he know? Sydney shook her head. “No. Just for work. Sorry.” She met his gaze and let herself fall into his eyes. Syd’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the tray, brushing against his. A jolt of energy passed between them, and Sydney’s eyes darted up to meet his startled ones. Harmless white lie.

“Strange. You seem so familiar.” Gideon’s eyes moved down the lines of her body.

The black T-shirt and micro skirt were way too tight. She cleared her throat and tried to think of something coherent.

“You…remind me of someone, too.”

He brushed his hand along the side of her face. “Maybe we’ll investigate that. But for now we both have jobs to do. Welcome to the club, Raven.”

Sydney watched him go, her heart beating a wild staccato. Her lips parted, and she sucked in a breath. Damn if her panties weren’t soaked already.

Chapter Twenty-One

Eyes watched the exchange between Gideon and the new black-haired barmaid. Power surrounded her. It had a familiar flavor he could not place, but no matter. The chit would be his before the end of the night. The crowd parted before him as they should. He had been too long without sustenance. To claim one who Gideon prized was an even bigger boon.

“Emory, how are you?”

“Fine. Wonderful to see you.” He nodded in greeting as his gaze followed the girl around the room. He made his way to the stage. The show was just about to begin.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sydney hustled. All of her tables were full, with even more patrons pouring through the doors. Her mind was still on Master Gideon, and she almost upended a tray on a witch’s head. She froze the ale before it hit the girl’s costume.

“Sorry about that! Incantare return!” The liquid reverted to the glasses without a drop spilled, and the table erupted into applause. Sydney blushed and did a quick courtesy. “Thanks.”

She placed the drinks on the table and winked before sashaying back toward the bar. The back of her neck prickled as though she was being watched. She set the tray back on the bar and scanned the crowd. Syd’s gaze lifted to the mirror in the high wall above the club. She could sense an energy behind the glass, but it was always there. For all she knew, it was Master Gideon keeping watch. The idea warmed her blood.

She wondered if maybe he spent most of his time behind the red door. It still boggled her mind the two clubs were located in the same building. No one went in or out of the other part of the club as long as she was minding the floor, and part of her itched to go through the red door and see what went on. She wanted to reconnect with Master Gideon, but her mind went back to the instructions from her sergeant.

“Don’t let that vamp know who you are. What if he’s behind the murders? Did you ever think of that?”

She had. Every waking hour. Master Gideon had tried to save her. Syd’s fingers trailed along the wooden surface of the bar while she waited for Rick to bring her the latest order. She needed to see him alone. To tell him who she was. Maybe they could work together to catch Alvarado.

A group of weres sat toward the back, and she started for the table, but the other waitress waved her off. She was grateful. Tonight was a full moon, and she didn’t want to chance anything setting off her change. Sydney remembered the sensation of helplessness as she lay on the floor in front of the commode while the muscle spasms overwhelmed her. Was that how it was for them? Did they have to do this every full moon, or did they get a choice? There was so much she didn’t know.

“May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen! It’s time for Spellbound at the Beam! Witches, take your places and prepare to duke it out for a taste of fame.”

Sydney watched to see who would get onstage.

“What? No takers?” Clancy, the announcer, wore his shiny Vegas suit, his hair slicked back like the aging showman he was.

“Hey!” one of the witches from earlier called out. “That waitress there. She should go up.”

Fear sluiced down Sydney’s back, and with it came a whisper from the beast within. It wanted out and was getting harder and harder to control. “No. Thanks.”

“Join us, pretty lady. I’m sure Rick can hand out a few drinks while you come up and play.”

Sydney’s gaze shot toward Rick’s. “I don’t think I should. I mean, I was hired to work, not to play, right?”

Rick shook his head and shrugged. “Wow, Raven. I didn’t realize you were a witch. It’s fine. Go have some fun.”

Pretend you’re just an airhead waitress. Don’t register the full moon outside tonight and don’t change. You’re stronger than that. “No. Really. It’s okay. I’d rather just keep waiting tables. Let someone else have fun. I’m a little shy about being onstage.”

“Witch! Witch! Give us the witch!” The group of witches called out, and around the room others joined in.

Shit.

Rick chuckled. “I think it’s out of my hands now. You better get up there before we have a riot.”

“Oh my God. Okay….”

Sydney peeled off her apron and laid it on the bar. She made her way to the stage, her heart thundering in her chest. She was supposed to stay under the radar, not get dragged into this again. Her sergeant would be pissed if she found out.

“All right, Little Ms. Witch! Thanks for joining us. So… tell us your name,” Clancy called out as she walked up the stairs and onto the now-familiar wooden dais.

“Raven.”

“Well, Raven, we have a new challenger tonight. Let’s welcome Emory, a witch from out of state.”

Emory came from the shadows. He was tall and athletic, and a sweep of golden hair fell over his forehead. He wore a simple black pair of jeans and black sweater, his hands swallowed up by the overlarge sleeves.

“Good evening.” His voice was smoky and settled around Sydney like a wisp of brimstone.

“Hello.”

“Witches, take your places on the X. This game will comprise three rounds, winner playing for pride and title. No physical contact, no lethal spells, and no out-of-bounds spell casting. Only cast on the stage and keep it clean.”

Clancy backed away, his gaze traveling up to the mirror on the high wall. Raven kept her eyes on the newcomer and tried to still the butterflies somersaulting in her stomach. She could handle this. It was just another bit of parlor magic, the same as she’d done on the club floor earlier.

The music geared up, and Emory stepped up to his mark. His blue eyes were cold and piercing, and when she ran her hands down the front of her clothes, he smirked. From a pocket in his jeans, he withdrew a wand.

Sydney started and stepped up to the mark on the floor.

Those eyes….

Emory raised his arm, and a familiar cloud of flies erupted from the wand. “You’re mine.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gideon watched the blood drain out of Sydney’s face. He couldn’t think of her as Raven, even with the dark hair.

“Miles!” He broke into a run, pushing past his startled partner and down the stairs toward the club floor. Rick was still behind the bar, but as he saw Gideon and Miles emerge from the doorway, concern etched across his features.

“Get them out,” Gideon whispered to the barkeep as he made his way toward the stage, heart pounding in his chest. His fangs descended as he scented Sydney’s fear. Their connection was so strong, he couldn’t stop and observe before he dove in.

He watched the flies shoot toward Syd from the male witch’s wand and itched to wipe the smirk off the bastard’s face. He had to be Alvarado. There was no other explanation. How could he have known Sydney would be here? He and Miles had told no one. Not even Rick. He would respect her right to do what the force wanted her to do, but this was his club and this battle would be on his terms.

“What are you doing back in my club?” Gideon’s voice rippled through the air, and everyone, patron and employee alike, turned to stare. Miles and the fae herded the guests out into the night, complete with pleasant memories. He had no time for them now. He had to focus on the murdering bastard on the stage. He had no question about who was standing in front of him. The blond hair and blue eyes were another bit of fakery. For a moment, he paused, unsure what to call her.

“Raven, back away from him.”

“Incantare smoke,” she called out, changing the cloud of insects into a puff of air. As soon as she did, the witch rushed her, dropping all pretenses.

“Bitch,” he spat, his mouth opening up to reveal the jagged teeth of a monster. The thin veneer of the spell waivered, and Gideon saw what lay beneath the handsome exterior.

Raven uttered an oath and stumbled backward. The stairs were now at the back of her heeled boot. Before she could tumble down them, Gideon darted across the room and caught her as she fell into his arms. She met his eyes, and the green in them shifted into a golden fire.

“You.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sydney screamed as Emory lunged at her, and every fiber of her being was alive with fear. The beast clawed beneath her skin, aching to be free. She felt Gideon catch her, but the fire had already begun in her blood and there was no stopping it.

The convulsions caught her first, landing her at Gideon’s feet, a writhing mass of agony. Her muscles constricted, closing in on each other, morphing into a symmetry of explosions all over her body. The bones in her reconstructed face shifted, her nose becoming a snout. The width of her shoulders crackled and expanded. Fingers became claws, her legs long and powerful. Red fur replaced the smooth ivory of her skin, and, despite the pain, she smiled. She hated the bottle job. The smile turned into a sob as the convulsions twisted her into a ball.

Oh Goddess. For Gideon to see me like this….

The sound of ripping cloth echoed in Sydney’s mind as her body twisted and contorted to meet its new shape. She lay on the floor panting until she caught scent of the undead parasite approaching.

Get up now.

Sydney stood on unsteady legs, her body unsure of its new strength. She rose up on her hind legs and stepped between Gideon and the imposter.

“Well, it seems like the big, bad wolf cut her teeth. Did you bring your leash with you, my dear? It looks like you might need to go out for a walk.”

What remained of “Emory” disappeared, and Alvarado’s true form materialized. A growl came from low in her throat. Sydney stepped forward, the massive claws on her feet clicking against the wooden floor.

“Sydney.” Gideon placed a hand on her pelt. Sydney shuddered at his touch but turned to him, afraid of what she might see. She might have revealed Alvarado to the world, but the bastard had forced her into showing her true nature.

“Sydney, wait.” His voice was soft, and his touch was softer. Desire swept through her, even as she stood in her wolf form.

“Gideon.” She reached a clawed hand for his, mindful of the razor-sharp claws at the ends of her fingers. “You saved me.”

“But now you are both mine. How fitting to destroy you together.” Alvarado raised his wand and stepped toward them.

“You took great pains to come back here. Why?” Sydney’s voice came out as a throaty rumble.

“I will see the Incubus tribe and those that ally with them suffer for their shining ways. Vampires were not meant to be in the human world, a sparkling mockery of our might. Vampires are a force to be feared. There will be a war, and things will be put back into the natural order.” He paused and considered Sydney. “You, however, will suffer because you got in my way.”

“So you tried to kill me?” Sydney stepped forward, her clawed fingers twitching with pent-up magic. “By using bottled spells? That’s pathetic.”

“Another bag of bones on the altar of death makes no nevermind.” Alvarado’s lips curved up in a parody of a smile. “How foolish you are if you think you can make a difference, wolf.”

“Sydney, don’t do this.” Gideon moved beside her, his eyes searching hers.

“I have to, Gideon.” Sydney turned back to the gaunt vampire. “Who is the witch you are holding hostage? None of my kind would willingly perform this kind of magic for you.”

“It is none of your affair, witch.”

“Oh. But I think it is.” Sydney advanced, a spell on her lips. “Incantare bind.” A wave of power rippled through the air, wrapping itself around Alvarado. “I bind you, Alvarado. By all the quarters, I keep and contain thee. I ground and strip you of the stolen powers you gained from witch kind. I order you to release my bound sister and undo the harm you have done.”

A door opened at the rear of the club, and with that distraction, Sydney’s tentative hold burst, the binding falling into shreds. Alvarado opened his arms, and the spell shattered completely.

“Sydney! Hold him!” Debra burst into the room, a squad of armored cops rushing up behind her.

“I think not,” Alvarado whispered and stepped forward, a flash of silver in his gloved palm. The dagger shone bright, and he moved toward Gideon. Sydney stepped forward to block the cadaverous vampire, and the blade sank deep into her chest.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“No!”

Gideon caught Sydney’s weight as she rocked back on her heels. Rage the color of blood flooded his system. From the corner of his eye, he watched the human law enforcement contain Alvarado. Miles and his team of fae warriors joined their numbers and surrounded the Caligari vampire. Debra barked out orders to her squad, noticed Sydney, and rushed over.

“Sydney! Damn it!”

He laid Sydney down, blood smearing her pelt. Her eyes met his, and a million words passed between them without an utterance.

“Can you pull it out?”

“It’s so close to your heart. If it’s too close….”

“If you don’t, I’ll die anyway.” Sydney swallowed, a tear sliding down her face. “I wanted to see you again. To thank you for saving me. For coming in the night and keeping the darkness at bay.”

“You knew?”

Sydney nodded, her features pinched with pain. “Yes. It was the only thing that kept me sane.” She reached her clawed hand for him and held his hand at her breast. “Thank you for not flinching when you touched me. I’ve become a beast.” A laugh transformed into something more like a sob, and she turned her eyes away.

Disbelief and amazement warred within him. She’d known he’d come to her and wasn’t put off by his near-stalker behavior. She believed he was repulsed by her ability to change. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his days. The weres he’d known were large and ungainly, but Sydney was neither. Her form matched her size, but her long limbs were elegantly made, the tapered claws at the ends of her fingers and toes beautiful and deadly all at once. The red fur that graced her form was the original color of her hair. He hadn’t missed the smile she’d shared with him even through the pain of changing. “Sydney?”

“Mmm?” She turned her head.

“This is how I feel about you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Gideon took a portion of his shirt, gripped the blade, and pulled it free. He dropped it to the floor with a thunk, releasing her lips as he did so.

Sydney tasted like wine and blood, her body lush against him.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut.

“Now she gets stabbed and turns into a furball?” Debra snorted. “Jesus Christ, Syd!”

“I’m okay.” Her voice was frail and Gideon prayed his blood and her werewolf constitution would not make her words a lie.

“You, get that fucker and hold him down,” Debra snarled. “Don’t let him even twitch.”

Miles approached Sydney and Gideon, languid in his actions, but Gideon knew better. Miles was here to fight in case Alvarado broke free.

Miles started at Gideon. “So…you think to start a war among the vampires. Do you see any of your kind here to save you?”

“I need no one. Not yet.” Gideon frowned. “The Incubus clan would come if I called. The infraction this one has caused is enough.”

“No. You don’t need me…but you have me just the same.” Miles stepped up to meet him, freeing the sword from the scabbard at his side. “We are partners, you and I.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“Gideon….” Sydney gripped his arm. “Help me up.”

“You should be resting.” He carefully assisted her onto her feet.

“I can’t rest. Not now. We have to stop him before he tries to kill someone else.”

“Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes.” Sydney flexed her claws, a funny little smile on her elegant snout.

Miles chuckled. “You two should get a room.”

“Later,” Syd and Gideon spouted at the same time and burst out laughing.

“Oh my Gods.” Miles stalked toward Alvarado. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“That makes two of us.” Debra stared up at the Caligari vampire. “That vampire stinks like a corpse.”

Sydney turned to her, arching her wolfish eyebrow. “You can smell that?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Sydney lowered her eyes.

“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Gideon pressed a kiss to Sydney’s cheek and turned to face the monster among them. He took the knife from the floor and palmed it, welcoming the sting of pain as it met his flesh. He stalked toward Alvarado, fury flowing through his veins. The officers parted, allowing the angry vampire entrance. “You dare to bring harm to me and mine. I will take your life.”

“No.” Sydney stood next to him on shaking legs, the wounds on her pelt bloody. Debra joined her. “Join hands with me.”

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.”

Debra nodded and the three of them linked hands.

“I bind you, Alvarado,” Sydney said. “I bind you against harming others or harming yourself. To the deepest crevice of night, I send you. From the innermost point of light I seal you. To the elements of air, earth, fire, and water I summon and stir thee to do my bidding. Let this being have no quarter. My Goddess, I beseech thee.”

“Sydney…,” Gideon whispered, his awe at this magnificent woman knowing no bounds.

Alvarado screamed as his world folded in on itself. Darkness and light became one, effectively erasing him from the face of the earth. The teams of fae and humans scattered to the back of the room knowing better than to be caught up in a Goddess-invoked spell. They moved to the back of the room in case they were needed, their gaze never leaving Debra. Sydney stood strong, and as the last of the power ebbed, she wilted, dropping Debra’s hand.

“Gideon,” Sydney whispered and sank to the floor.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“It itches.”

“Well of course it does. It’s healing.” Gideon smirked and smoothed some salve on Sydney’s wound. It was almost healed but was taking its time.

He’d taken her home after the fray and hadn’t left her side since. Did he feel guilty? Was that it? She shifted her weight on the bed and stood. The mirror across the room told a sweet story. The change had done more for her than she’d ever realized. Her red hair had returned, and so had her face. Sydney blinked back tears of joy. Part of her wondered which woman Gideon preferred. The raven-haired barmaid or the red-headed witch with a lunar cycle to rival any PMS he’d ever had to deal with.

“Damned silver.”

“I quite agree.” He backed up and stood watching her in the doorway to her bedroom as if he belonged there.

It was disconcerting how much she wanted that very thing. They hadn’t known each other long, but she felt as though they’d been a part of each other’s lives forever. The thought of him leaving left a hollow sensation in her belly, but she knew he had other things to do besides babysit her.

“It’s not over yet, you know. They’ll send someone else.” Sydney pulled down her shirt.

“Miles and his fae brethren are busy scouring the city for the clan. There are only so many places they can be.”

“I need to check on Erika. The last report from the hospital said she was weak but recovering from the bites.”

Gideon ran his fingers through his hair. “Have they mentioned any aftereffects?”

“Not yet.” A chill slid down Sydney’s back just thinking about her friend and the horrible condition she was in. “Do you think she’ll be changed?”

“I don’t know. People react differently to bites from the varying clans of vampires. The Caligari have a unique venom. Frankly, it’s a miracle she’s even alive.”

“I know.”

“You need to prepare yourself for the possibility she may not be the same girl she was before.”

“Yeah. Neither was I, so I get it.”

“You should go and see her. She’ll need your support when she wakes. It will be frightening for her.”

“I will.”

“Debra is out there trying to find them. I think she was even making eyes at Miles.”

Gideon snorted. “That one is going to be a challenge. So is she giving you any grief about your medical leave?”

Sydney laughed. “No, but I’ve been out on medical leave more than I’ve been on duty these last few months. You don’t have to stay. I know you have other things that require your attention.”

Gideon arched an eyebrow. “Do I?” He leaned against the doorway, his gaze following her every move.

“Of course. Club Beam….” Sydney swallowed and looked down, her mouth dry.

“There is one thing I can think of right now that needs my attention, and that’s you.”

“Oh….”

Gideon took her in his arms, yanking her against his muscular chest. Her breasts molded into him, and her nipples tightened with pent-up desire.

“You mean you aren’t upset that I’ll be working nights?”

“On the contrary.” Gideon lifted her chin and melded his lips to hers. He claimed them hungrily, walking her back toward the bed.

“You don’t mind I’m not an uncomplicated barmaid?”

“Nope.” He kissed her again.

“What about the fact that I’ll turn furry once a month and have wicked mood swings?”

“They have drugs for that.”

“Ha-ha.”

“They also have something called the Moon Run. You’ll love it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. But I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?” Sydney cupped his crotch. The chances of those jeans coming off in the next few minutes were better than average.

His erection prodded her in the stomach, and moisture pooled between her thighs. Gideon moved between her legs, the steel length of his body pushing her down into the mattress. His cock ground against her through the denim, and a groan escaped her lips.

“Oh Goddess, if you don’t take me now, I will go insane.”

“I was hoping you felt that way.” Gideon reached beneath them and unsnapped the button on his jeans. He stepped from the bed and divested himself of his clothes and boots. His cock sprang free, and he headed back toward the bed.

Sydney undid her jeans with shaking fingers and arched her hips. She tugged them over her ass and wriggled them down her legs. She pulled the T-shirt from her body, leaving her clad in her panties and bra.

“What next, do you think?” Gideon nuzzled the rounded expanse of her tummy. His teeth nipped at the elastic of her panties, and he tugged the flimsy fabric down. He yanked the panties out from under her, slipping them off as he pressed his lips against her mound. Watching his hooded eyes between her legs made her hot. Her skin tingled, and the beast beneath her skin reacted to him.

Mate.

“I want you inside of me. Now.”

Gideon chuckled and moved her thighs apart. “In such a rush….” He slipped his finger between her folds and sighed. “So wet.”

He bent his head down and scraped his fangs along the outer lips and explored her hidden recesses. Gideon’s finger glided into her pussy, and he moved it in and out. One finger became two. Two became three.

Sydney groaned, spreading her legs wider. She gripped the bedding, throwing back her head in a gasp as his tongue found her clit. With shaking fingers, she unhooked the front clasp on her bra, releasing her breasts to his gaze. Gideon smiled, licked her essence from his lips, and moved over her. He slid between her legs, prodding her cunt with the blunt head of his cock.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Oh Gods, yes.” Sydney’s lips parted in anticipation, and she had to resist the urge to pull him down and impale herself on him.

“Good.”

Gideon sank his thick cock into her. Inch by inch, he pushed inside of her aching pussy until he was balls-deep. The root of him ground against her clit, and she sucked in a ragged breath. “Take me hard.”

“Your wish is my command.” He ground his hips and moved.

He stretched her, filling her void with his breadth. Sydney arched her hips to meet him, and they merged in artful symmetry. Gideon bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He worshiped the nipple with reverence, licking his way to the next one.

“Hold on, babe.” Gideon grabbed her by the hips and began to piston in and out of her pussy. Liquid fire ran through her veins. With every thrust he teased her clit, pushing her farther and farther off the cliff until she cried out, her cunt flooding with pent-up desire.

“Oh God!” She trembled, lightning skittering across her skin. Sydney dug her nails into his back and held on as he pumped and shuddered against her, his own passion coming over him.

With a cry Gideon jerked, filling her with his seed. His body heavy, he slumped forward, laying his head on her breasts.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Gideon stilled inside of Sydney, his body spent. The warmth of her were nature filled him with joy. She quickened him with her beauty and strength, and he couldn’t wait to spend more time getting to know her. Dream sex had been amazing, but the time spent in her arms was a thousand times better. He loved the warm cinnamon scent of her skin and the way she curled around him when she came. It would be an adventure as she discovered more about her were side.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“Ummm. I was just thinking it will be fun getting to know you.”

“I thought we’d already gotten to that stage.” Mischief twinkled in her eyes as he lifted his face to meet her gaze.

His lips turned up in a grin. “Yes, now that you mention it, I suppose we have.” He took one of her breasts in his mouth, the rosy flesh pebbling into fine points of desire. “But I like to explore all options.”

Sydney sucked in a breath. “Oh?”

“So…let’s make up some ground here. Walking Dead. For or against?” Gideon placed a kiss between her breasts.

“For.” Syd grinned.

“Me too.”

“I agree.”

“Pizza or cheeseburgers?”

Syd pouted, considering the question. “Do I have to pick?”

“You can say both.”

“Oh good.” Sydney grinned, her green eyes twinkling. “Both.”

Gideon smiled and pressed another kiss to her abdomen. “What about reality TV? Love it or hate it?”

“Hate it.” Syd wound her hands into his hair.

“See, I had a feeling we would be a good fit.”

“Me too.”

“What about sushi?”

“Oh hell no.” Sydney shuddered, her mouth sliding into a grimace.

“Really? You don’t like sushi? Wow….” He tried to look hurt but ended up laughing at the look on her face.

“What? Is that a deal breaker?”

“If you’d have said yes, probably so.”

“Oh! You jerk!” She popped him on the buttocks with her hand and sucked in a breath as she watched his arousal take hold. His cock swelled, and he groaned, grinding himself into her well-loved but aroused pussy.

“I didn’t know vampires hated sushi so much, Mr. Raines.”

“Oh yes.” He dipped his head down and kissed her. “It’s up there with turning into a bat and garlic fetishes.”

“Ummm. And speaking of fetishes….”

He thrust into her and paused. “Yes?”

“When do I get to come and play behind the Red Door?” Sydney arched a delicate eyebrow and nibbled her lip.

Gideon grinned and kissed her. “As soon as you can get dressed.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want Miles to gain any ground on the spanking bench.”

“Ms. Marr, I think I love you.” Gideon sank deeper inside of her and buried his face into her hair.

“Promises, promises, Master Gideon. Now hurry up and fuck me senseless so we can go play.” Sydney giggled as Gideon raised his head and met her sparkling eyes.

“Is that a challenge? Do you dare to suggest you’ll only love me at the business end of my paddle?”

Sydney reached up to kiss him as he buried himself inside her once more.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Epilogue

“Are you ready?” Gideon placed his hand on Sydney’s lower back. He opened the Red Door and waited for her to decide.

Her body still sang from their earlier lovemaking, but her curiosity far outweighed her exhaustion. Walking through the doors in a police capacity was far different than joining the BDSM crowd for a night of fun.

“I think so.” Sydney walked through the doorway and into another world. The closest she had come to something like this was her e-reader full of erotic novels. Now she was about to live the dream, and she couldn’t shake the nervous butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach.

“Welcome.” Gideon stood next to her, clad in his leather pants and little else, his brown eyes watching her intently.

Her gaze traveled the room and she spotted Miles to the side, talking with a young woman in a collar and little else. She thought back to his offer of showing her the spanking bench, and Sydney knew just what she wanted to try first.

Stay tuned for more adventures behind the Red Door in the next book in the series.

A Note from Erzabet

This book is dedicated to all of my readers. Writing under the Beyond Fairytales line and the creation of the Shadow World series was both fun and a challenge. When I was presented with the fairy tale "The Beam" I had to really think about how I wanted to portray the story. For those of you not familiar with the tale, it is a short piece about a woman who shows up a wizard and proves him to be a fraud. He gets his revenge in a very public way. How could I take this story and twist it into an urban fantasy setting and add a little kink to boot? I wanted a strong female character that could handle herself in a conflict, but still dealt with her own insecurities. Could she stand up to the opposing force in the story and somehow come out swinging? You bet.

Sydney is a fun and feisty heroine both witchy and quirky. Gideon is the perfect vampire alpha male Dom to curl her toes. Club Beam is a place of magic and mystery, where the Red Door overlooks the fun and frivolity of the main club floor. Fairy tales are for real here and some of them bite…and hard. The club is a refuge for vampire, fae and other mythical creatures; it is also a lure of many decadent delights.

I hope you will enjoy the introduction to my Shadow World series and return to Club Beam for many more adventures.

http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop

Also from Decadent Publishing

www.decadentpublishing.com

The Willfully Wedded Virgin by D.L. Jackson

Chapter One

June 1905, somewhere in the Peruvian jungle….

Elizabeth reached up and brushed the damp hair from her forehead. She blew out a breath as a trickle of perspiration traveled down her spine, running beneath the laces of her corset and soaking into the already overly damp muslin shirtwaist, certainly leaving a stain. “Insufferable heat.” A thick vine dangled in her face, taunting her. “Hell would certainly be cooler and much more comfortable. Ooooh—these bloody flies are a nuisance.” She swatted at a buzzing insect, missed, and took a half-hearted whack at the overgrowth with her machete.

She could only blame herself since she’d insisted they could move faster if they let her help and had refused to take no for an answer. Ah, but she had learned the hard way. Some work suited men much better, especially since they weren’t draped in acres of fabric. If she’d known cutting a path would take so much work, she would have kept her mouth shut.

“Mind your language. A lady doesn’t curse. It shows ill-breeding, though at times when I hear you speak, it makes me wonder if I should have shipped you off to my sister’s when your mother passed. I should not have let you spend all your time around the institute. I fear it’s put bad ideas in your head and foul words in your mouth.”

“It is just so—”

Her father glanced over his shoulder. “You insisted, Elizabeth. I don’t want to hear your complaints.”

“I did not insist on this sticky humidity or the bugs, and I most certainly didn’t insist on wearing a skirt and corset into the jungle. And these boots are much more suited to a country outing. I have blisters on the tops of my toes, for heaven’s sake. If only you’d let me wear the dunnage—”

“Clothes, Elizabeth. Don’t speak like a Philistine. We are not discussing that again. I will not have my daughter traipsing about in men’s breeches. I raised a young lady, not a son.”

“And she must dress so, lest a potential husband see her as manly,” she mumbled under her breath, still irritated she couldn’t don pants as some of the female adventurers she’d read about—women like Isabella Bird—did. Oh, she’d devoured all Bird’s tales, regardless of her father’s feelings on the matter, and thus felt compelled to shun social inequalities. He’d no idea how far women had come, and the new century was certain to usher in more of the freedoms the previous one had denied females. She fully planned to lead the charge.

The tribal women they’d seen didn’t even wear blouses, yet her wearing trousers offended him? Every woman around here seemed more relaxed than Henry Dodge’s daughter. Heaven forbid anyone see her not at her best. She didn’t want to skip naked through the forest or anything. Merely wear something that didn’t constrict her movement, garments other females had already adopted.

She reached up and touched her locket. What would her mother have said about his insisting he’d find her a good husband when they got back? From what she’d heard about her mother, her headstrong ways he always complained about didn’t come from her father. Her mother would more than likely have taken her side on this, letting her find her own spouse when good and ready. “This is a new century, and women can actually dress in trousers, and not every ‘young lady’ wants or needs a husband hand-picked by her daddy. I’m perfectly capable of securing a man on my own, when I decide I want one.”

“What?”

She snorted. “Nothing.” Not worth the argument that would follow. She hacked at the vine again and sighed. “Can we stop to rest? As you have so kindly pointed out, I am a female, delicate and so thoroughly exhausted.”

At first, a grand adventure had seemed like just the thing she needed to shake off her stagnant life of tea parties and gossip and make her stand, raising her banner for equality, but the whole ordeal had quickly proved more work than she’d expected.

How she craved the excitement of days gone by. Life had been a bore since she’d become old enough for marriage. Of course, her father put the institute off limits when he realized she was no longer the little girl in braids, following him around like a puppy, but a woman grown…with puppies of her own.

Unsuitable puppies.

Elizabeth swiped her glove-covered hand across her forehead. In Egypt, they were discovering the tombs of kings and treasures so immense it would leave a person breathless. They were making history—she’d wanted to be part of that. Who wouldn’t?

“Here is as good a spot as I’ve seen.” Her father nodded, and she blew out a breath.

“Finally.” Thank God for proper English gentlemen and old-fashioned chivalry. She wiggled her toes in her boots and groaned. Most likely, there were blisters on top of her blisters.

“We’ll set up camp here for the night. Clear a spot, gentlemen.”

Elizabeth dropped onto a large rock and plucked at her tan summer-skirt, picking off a leech stuck on one of the folds. “Oh, that’s bally vile.” Were there any others? She shook it off her fingers, flinging it somewhere in the jungle’s depths, and began to examine the acres of fabric that made up her skirt, sifting through the folds like a monkey picking lice.

“Your mouth, young lady. I don’t know where you acquired such vulgar expressions, but I don’t want to hear any of them again.”

He ought to know. He worked every day with the same people who taught her to sling a naughty word or two. She rolled her eyes and then her shoulders, dropping the fabric, satisfied her blood would be safe for the night. One of the guides offered her a canteen, which she snatched out of his grasp, swilling down its contents to the last drop in a most unladylike fashion. “Thanks,” she muttered and shoved it at him, returning it empty.

He stared at it for several seconds and then gave the canteen a slight shake, jabbering something in Spanish that sounded rather unpleasant and more than likely was, if she could translate. She’d never applied herself wholeheartedly to her foreign language lessons.

The guide stormed off to where her father had their tent stretched out over the ground and helped put it together, babbling in Spanish and pointing at her. Her father glanced her way, frowned, said something she couldn’t hear, and patted the man on the shoulder, most likely begging his pardon for her behavior—an all too familiar action. If she’d had a cock, the man would not have reacted the way he did, assuming the thirst came from hard, manly work, and therefore could be excused. But because women were held to higher ideals…. No need to go further. She’d silently made her point, even if they didn’t get it.

“So, does it really exist—this lost city of gold?” she asked her father, blowing out a breath and waving her hand in front of her face to break up a cloud of gnats zeroing in on her perfume. If she’d known expensive fragrance would attract them, she would have opted to roll in poo instead. Oh, the horror. She put her fingers to her mouth to stifle a giggle when her father glanced her way.

“The letter from my colleague says it does. The map is in the handle of that ceremonial knife. If I read it correctly, we should be at the City of Souls no later than tomorrow afternoon.”

That colleague would also be Doctor William Davidson. Well-respected. Married just six months ago. She’d heard his young bride already had had a child on the way after only two weeks of wedded bliss.

She blushed thinking about what intimacies with one of the Davidsons would be like, especially the tall and handsome Alexander Davidson, William’s younger brother. Oh, she couldn’t blame Sarah Davidson for taking her wifely duties so seriously, if William looked anything like his brother.

“City of Souls? That doesn’t sound like a golden city.” Propping her elbow on her knee, she rested her chin in her palm. She was able to bend in such a casual way only because she had refused to have her corset drawn tightly. If not for the wife of one of the guides, she would have been able to forgo the garment altogether. Drat. With another woman available to lace her up, she didn’t have the option not to wear it in her prim and proper father’s opinion. “Sounds like a graveyard,” she mumbled past her fingers and mushed cheek.

Her father shot her an ugly glare. Elizabeth sat up lest she get a lecture on posture and grace.

“It’s not. My colleague stated that hints to El Dorado’s location are buried there. Along the way, we’ll search for clues to William’s whereabouts. The map is so well drawn, I doubt he’s lost if he followed it.”

“In this dreadful place, everything appears the same, if you ask me.”

“It’s not, my dear. It’s why the men are in charge of this expedition. We simply have a better sense of direction.”

“Obviously William didn’t, or he wouldn’t be lost.”

“More than likely something else happened, an injury of some sort. He’s a clever chap, and it’s likely he could still be alive out there. Maybe in a native village somewhere.”

Doubtful. Elizabeth sighed, earning another glance from her father before he returned to his task. The jungle was about as inhospitable as a place could be. In her experience, the natives wanted them in their villages as much as the vile little monkeys in the trees that screeched all the time and occasionally flung poo at them. Another of the many charms of Peru.

Alexander had come back from the recent expedition in Peru, reporting his brother missing nigh on four months past—one of the many reasons they were here. The night he’d arrived with the bad news had been the first time she’d met the dashing younger brother of the missing doctor.

Evidence of the city couldn’t be more blatant. Elizabeth had seen the relic in her father’s study. The ancient metropolis existed. She believed that wholeheartedly. As to William still breathing…. Even Alexander had told her he doubted it.

And the relic? She’d also begun to believe it cursed, much like the Hope Diamond. Ill fate certainly seemed to follow it. William had sent them the artifact by post shortly before he vanished. The parcel contained an obsidian knife with a solid gold handle forged into the shape of a feathered serpent with inset emerald eyes. Breathtaking and priceless.

When it was shown to the local natives, they’d jabbered bruja over and over again. Her father’s team had had to leave the village because every person there had refused to help them in any manner. After that, her father had kept the knife under wraps. Superstitions held power in this part of the world, and the locals feared witchcraft. Their ignorance generated obstacles to archaeology not easily overcome, as Elizabeth and her father had recently discovered.

Her father, archeologist Henry Dodge, worked for private collectors. Sometimes his work wasn’t exactly on the up and up. For the right price, a treasure could easily find its way into a private collection. Selling the past seemed so wrong, but seeing a tomb loaded with precious stones, statues, pottery, and art or a city filled with gold would be a once in a lifetime opportunity she refused to pass up, no matter the final destination of the treasures.

Elizabeth had begged for weeks to take the trip after seeing what could to be gleaned from the jungle, but her father had argued that a woman’s place was at home. He’d refused to listen to anything she had to say on the subject, especially since one man had already come up missing. After a month of searching, during which she had sadly misplaced messages from several suitable candidates, Elizabeth had been unable to find a reliable replacement for William Davidson, and her father gave in to her pleas to accompany him, but not without terms. First, she would have to map out finds and document everything, and, second, she would have to refrain from wearing the trousers she’d nagged him relentlessly about, or any other unladylike garb.

“I’ll go secure dinner.” Alexander Davidson strode by, rifle in his hands.

Elizabeth watched him go. Six foot four inches of lean muscle and far too handsome for the good of her own virtue. Butterflies danced in her stomach, even though she knew it could never be. Alexander came from the wrong side of the silver spoon. Father would never approve unless the handsome Mr. Davidson had money, which, Alexander had told her, was why he’d come along on this expedition, chancing the risky trip after he’d already lost his brother. He wanted to ask for her hand and needed a fortune to do it.

She sighed and resumed her previous pose, this time staring after him as he headed into the dense vegetation to hunt. His posterior certainly gave the jungle much more favorable scenery. She bit her lip, watching the way his behind flexed under his trousers as he walked away.

“Staring is rude and very unladylike.”

She snapped out of her trance, ripping her gaze off his ass. Being close to Alexander was another reason she had wanted to come on the trip, though her father would have an apoplexy if he found out about their flirtations for the last month. Best to remain quiet about it, or her father would certainly ship her off to live with her aunt, a sour old spinster. “I wasn’t—”

“He’s not for you.”

“Oh, pooh. I’ll be dried up before you approve of any man to my taste.”

“Your taste leaves much to be desired. Go make yourself useful and boil some water for tea. Alexander will be returning with dinner shortly.”

“Of course. Because boiling water is why you brought me along.” He’d hired a woman to handle the cooking and cleaning. This tea making was beneath her, and he knew it. It could only be punishment, his way of putting her in her place. Fine, she’d humor him, and maybe she’d even help cook. Let him chew on that and see how it sat. She stomped over to a pack and yanked out a pot, heading for a stream a hundred yards down the trail and in the opposite direction Alexander had traveled.

It would’ve been lovely to bump into him. Alone. He’d kissed her once in the dark in the garden. Ever since, she’d craved another taste of his lips, had wanted to feel his strong arms wrapped around her, his hands scandalously squeezing her bottom. Lord, she’d liked it. If only she could secure another moment alone with him and explore the strange desires he’d ignited.

“You agreed to my terms,” her father called after her.

“Only for the trip to the site,” she muttered under her breath. Once they reached the city, she would strike out on her own in search of treasures, and she’d decided her father would not stop her. He’d only stated terms for while they traveled—not when they arrived.

Semantics.

She fingered the small derringer in her pocket, knowing her father would send her home if he saw it. A gun was an inappropriate thing for a woman to carry, but she’d need it if she were to go off and explore. No one could ever make her believe the tiny pistol had been made for a man’s hand. It fit her palm perfectly.

***

Somewhere in the Peruvian jungle, July 2015….

Alcatraz would’ve been easier to escape from. The floor-to-ceiling, crystallized walls of the chamber in which Agent William Davidson of the Federal Bureau of Investigation found himself trapped appeared seamless. “Motherfucker.” He slapped his palms against the crystal wall. “You piece of shit. Let me out! I know there’s a door here somewhere. Open, goddamnit!”

He’d only wanted to solve the mystery of the disappearance of his great-grandfather, his namesake, in 1905. Instead, he’d managed to lock himself in the ruins. How, he didn’t know, other than he’d picked up what appeared to be a harmless relic.

Turning around, he slid down to sit against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on the cold stone, still breathing, not light-headed or weak, but frustrated as all hell. Because he hadn’t suffocated yet, Will presumed fresh air came from somewhere and, with it, a way out. Now if he could only find it.

He lifted his face and stared at the wall. “Open sesame!” Nothing. He dropped his head into his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It was likely no one would ever hear him. When they’d set up camp, he’d asked the guides to take him to the ruins that weren’t on the maps, the ones he knew sat just to the north, thanks to a small diagram drawn on the back of an old photo. They’d babbled something about evil spirits and cursed cities, refusing to go near it even when he offered them a substantial amount of cash.

So they’d helped him set up camp, and he figured, after a good meal and a chance to settle in, he would ask again. He’d taken five minutes to stow his gear in his newly pitched tent and think of a better plan to gain their cooperation, perhaps offering them his first-born child, but when he’d emerged, they’d split with half his gear.

Pissed didn’t cover it, but then again, he had a map, albeit, a crudely drawn one, so he’d struck out on his own and located the ghost city. All his research said this was where X marked the spot; this was where his grandfather and, later, an entire expedition had disappeared. Maybe the place really was cursed or—a better explanation—just rigged with a lot of traps.

Over a hundred years before, William’s great-grandfather had gone into the jungle with his brother, Alexander, and a guide. When he’d wandered off to explore something alone, he’d vanished, never to be seen again.

According to family letters and newspaper articles on the find, his great uncle, Alexander, had mounted a second expedition in search of both a fabled treasure and his missing brother. The only surviving member of the expedition, Alexander had returned famous and very, very wealthy.

His fortune and celebrity had grown after his discovery of another ruined city to the south, but whispered speculations regarding what had happened to his traveling companions on his second trip into the Peruvian jungle had also brought him a darker sort of fame. Rumors floated about that he had had something to do with the fate of the party, though nobody could ever prove it.

In 1906.

Fast forward a hundred years and put the mystery in the hands of an expert in solving cold cases.

Will reached into his pocket and extracted an aged photo he’d found tucked inside a massive book in his uncle’s library at the estate sale—the whole reason that, at the age of sixteen, he’d decided to become an FBI agent. The group in the picture posed with smiles on their faces—all except for his uncle, who stared off at something in the distance. Preoccupied with his brother’s disappearance? Will could only guess.

According to an old London newspaper clipping Will had found recently while digging for clues on another case, Alexander had discovered that the entire party, save one, had been killed by headhunters from a native tribe. The authorities had never recovered the bodies to prove otherwise. They only had the word of one man, a man who’d crawled from the jungle, battered and bloody, with a bullet wound in his shoulder; certainly not the weapon of choice for a primitive headhunter.

The reemergence of the mystery had seemed a sign—time to dig into the disappearance of Doctor William Davidson and the secondary party sent to rescue him. Will had decided to start by looking into family tales of an ancient site in northern Peru. Nothing in newspaper articles indicated a city to the north or even ruins, but the photo didn’t lie, nor did the native superstitions.

Once he had the funds and ability to solve the mystery, Will had booked a flight to South America, traveling with the best guides money could secure, cracking open a cold case, and hoping to solve a century-old murder with modern forensics.

He flipped the photograph over and read the elegant script before returning to the image on the front. According to the cursive lettering, someone had snapped the photo a day before the party departed. The aged image displayed a prim and proper Victorian party with two women in the group. The gents wore British pith empire helmets and knee-high boots, appearing every bit the dapper explorers, while one woman was dressed as any lady of her time in skirt, shirt, gloves, and a big hat secured on her head with a long scarf. The other woman appeared to be Peruvian, her homespun skirt and hat bespeaking her heritage. He imagined the first woman had blonde hair and blue eyes, but the sepia tones hid their hues, and the true color of either would forever remain a mystery. Her outfit, unlike the other woman’s sturdy garments made for jungle exploration, begged him to ask why she’d gone along, but then again, it had been another time and certain standards of dress were expected of women then. Maybe they were her exploration clothes?

He traced her face with his finger, something he’d done a hundred times over the years. Beautiful. She radiated energy, and if one really took the time to study her image, it was obvious she’d been full of life, if not bursting with it. He’d become addicted to a buzz he gained from gazing at the photo as though he really knew her. As a teenager, he’d pretended he knew her.

Every time he pulled out the old photo, his heart beat a little faster, his blood got a little hotter, and illicit images washed through his brain. Would a person have gotten scorched standing next to her? Crazy, but when he thought of the mystery woman, he thought of a firestorm you wanted to grab hold of and hang on to for the wild ride.

That was the energy she gave off. Powerful and, for lack of a better word, spellbinding. Adventurous, brave—he could picture exactly who’d she’d been. He’d fallen asleep many nights dreaming about her—a ghost from the past. When he thought about it, the mystery woman had been the cause of many of his failed relationships. Over the years, she’d become the icon of his ideal woman, someone to measure all girlfriends against, and an ungrounded obsession he knew he needed to lose. When he looked at other women, he searched for that spark, that rush he got from the woman in the old picture. He promised himself it was time to end the fantasy that had long grown out of control. When he solved the mystery, he could finally lay his obsession to rest, find a woman in the here and now, and start living like a normal man.

He tossed the picture on the carved stone floor, the image of little use to him now. If he couldn’t get out, he’d die here. He rested against the smooth wall. Closing his eyes, he retraced his steps and focused on any details that might be key to his release from the trap. It all came back to one thing—the only thing that could have triggered it.

That damn crystal skull.

But the relic hadn’t followed him into the trap. It had disappeared the moment he touched it. Hard to tell how since he’d blacked out—possibly from some kind of poisonous gas from the trap he’d triggered. Had the missing expeditionary party of 1905 fallen into a similar fate somewhere else in the city? Could the remains in the room belong to one of them?

His gut said yes.

One would think an FBI agent would have better things to do on his vacation than find himself stuck in a situation like this, wondering if he’d end up like his cellmate. Speaking of which…. He sighed and glanced over to the skeletal remains of a man in the corner, wearing clothes from the turn of the century. His spinal column and forearms had deep cuts into the bone, as though someone had hacked at him with a sword or machete, and he’d attempted to block the attack. Clearly murder.

Bored, with nothing better to do, he’d taken to examining the victim, rifling through the surprisingly well-preserved clothing—which didn’t match anyone from the expeditionary party in the photo. The climate in the room in which he was trapped had a dry, dusty, hot quality, even if the jungle outside steamed like a Finnish sauna. A formula for mummification—or in the victim’s case, partial mummification.

After examining the contents of the corpse’s pockets, Will still didn’t have a clue who he was. The man had no identifying papers anywhere on him. Tucked inside the mystery man’s vest, he found a pocket watch with an inscription, To my love, etched on the cover. It, too, gave no hint at his identity, and the clothing he wore appeared the same as any of the men in the photo—except for the cowboy hat. So, time frame? Around the same era during which his grandfather had disappeared.

“Who are you? My grandfather?”

Air brushed across his neck. Will turned, scanning the dim chamber for its source. Where the cavern’s lighting came from, he didn’t know. His flashlight had died hours ago, or maybe only minutes had passed. Hard to tell. He’d already lost track of time, what with his watch frozen on the same time he’d touched the skull. Even the built-in compass had gone hokey, spinning counterclockwise as though it didn’t have a clue which direction was up. It provided very little help in gathering his bearings. Everything seemed a little too surreal for his taste.

He eyed the room, taking in the odd construction of his personal hell. At least he had some kind of illumination not tied to technology and eventually doomed to run out of charge. Perhaps the walls were carved out of some kind of phosphorous rock—the only explanation he could come up with for the ghostly glow.

He shivered and rubbed his arms, turning to his long-dead companion. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

The empty sockets and yellowed teeth leered at him as though in jest at the situation he found himself in. Will snorted. As though I really expected him to answer.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue

A Note from Erzabet