We didn't have any trouble getting inside. The bouncer sniffed me once, frowned, and then shrugged when June vouched for me. Humans weren't forbidden here, but we required someone from the community to enter with us. She was gone from my side within two minutes. One second, we hovered at the top of the stairs, surveying the club while music pulsed through us, and the next minute, a man and woman dragged her off to the shadows. The man had hesitated, flashing a bit of fang at me and extending his hand in invitation, but as soon as I shook my head in the negative, he followed the women, leaving me to explore on my own.

Indulgence lived up to its name in every capacity. From the floor to ceiling satin drapes of twilight and champagne that twinkled faintly when they shifted, to the plush white couches filled with entwined figures, and the mirrored ceiling that twisted and reflected everything back at you, it was a place where it felt like anything had the green light.

Strolling to the bar, I tried my best to act like I'd been here before, but it was difficult to not gape at some of the sights. Like the woman pinned against one of the couches, a man drinking from her neck while another bent between her legs. From my count, she came four times in the time it took me to come down the stairs and reach the bar. The music swallowed A fifth scream of pleasure as I leaned over the polished mercury glass surface of the bar and ordered a vodka tonic with lime.

"First time here, little human?" The bartender asked as he handed me my drink. He threw a towel over his shoulder and raked his eyes across my body as I settled myself on the barstool.

"What gave me away?" I asked, sipping on the drink. It wouldn't do to lie. Some creatures could smell a lie, and I needed to gain trust, not lose it.

"Regulars don't look twice at Liza there anymore," he replied, jutting his jaw at the woman on the couch. "She comes as often her body allows her."

"Pun intended?" I quipped back.

He barked a laugh. "I like you, but where is your escort? It's not safe to wander far without them."

Turning my long hair in one hand, I lifted a shoulder in a shrug, careful to keep my scarf from riding up and and exposing my breast. "She got an invitation she couldn't refuse, and I think I'll be okay without her. I'm tougher than I look."

"I can see that." He leaned in closer and trailed a finger over the top of my hand. "What's with the gloves?"

"They're part of the outfit." I drew my hands away from him and folded them in my lap.

"Or you're Bria Smith. Thought you stayed away from us."

His casual use of my name made my mouth fall open. "I wasn't aware I had a reputation."

"It pays to be knowledgeable, and everyone is curious about the little human girl who can't really be a human. There are some who have bets going on what you are exactly."

"And how do you know all this?" Every hair on my body stood on edge, and instinct told me to run.

"Bartender, love. People talk."

"So do you, it seems."

"I told you I like you." He tapped his nose and let his eyes glow amber. Shifter. They could smell lies and emotions. "I'm a fairly excellent judge of character."

"Marcus," a rumbling voice said to my left. I startled and looked at the newcomer. He was over six feet tall with autumn red hair tied with a leather cord at the nape of his neck. The hook in his nose kept him from being beautiful, but most people wouldn't mind the imperfection—not when his body filled out his white t-shirt and jeans so perfectly. And no mask covered his face.

"Yes," Marcus answered, all his charm fleeing, replaced with respect and a hint of fear.

"Send a girl to the private balcony with a bottle of Macallan M Black and make sure she is available to us all evening."

"Yes, sir," Marcus replied, waiting until the man was out of earshot before letting loose with a stream of curses that could have curdled milk.

"Who was that?"

"Fynn Blackstorm."

The gods were smiling on me this evening. "The Andarien owner?"

"Be careful how loud you talk." Marcus turned pale as he prepared a tray with the expensive scotch. "Just because people know what he is, it doesn't mean he wants people talking, you know."

Throwing back my drink, I slammed it on the counter. Fynn didn't match the man in the echo, which meant Kohl had to be the one. "What's the big deal with all the secrecy?"

"Bria, I told you I liked you, but I'm starting to wonder if you're very bright." He whistled at a server as she passed. Wearing only a silver thong and pasties, she grinned and flounced over to the bar. "Grindle, I need you to do me a favor."

"Oh, no," she exclaimed, her grin falling as she held her tray in front of her like a shield. "I told you last time, I wouldn't do it again. Nora, Ivy, and Kitten are all out too. Maybe try the new girl."

"Come on, Grindle, the new girl can't do it. She's dropped six drinks tonight. I can't send her to the bosses."

"Guess you better put on a skirt and do it yourself, then. Sorry, it won't be me."

Propping my chin in my hands and trying very hard to appear concerned, I asked Marcus, "What's that all about?"

He was pacing now, most likely panicked, because Fynn seemed like the type who would have expected that bottle to be delivered five minutes before he asked for it. And I highly doubted Marcus in a skirt would satisfy them.

"The bosses are notoriously difficult to please. Prone to outbursts and... other things. Shit. My only option is to send up Jessica, and she's going to fuck it up. I know it. Not to mention, she's blonde. Fynn will eat her alive."

"I'll go." I said it before I could stop myself, but it was the perfect solution to get immediate access to the Andariens—to take a peek at Kohl's face. At the very least, I could eliminate the two of them from my search that way.

Marcus snorted, but there was a calculating tilt to his lips that told me he would not dismiss my offer. "Not a good idea."

"Probably not." This was a weird echo of the conversation I had with Jac earlier and look how terrible that turn out, though my lady parts begged to differ. "But I have years of serving experience, and I'm definitely not a blonde."

"Fuck it. The stairs to the private room are behind the stage on the left. Take the tray into the room, keep your eyes down while you put it on the coffee table, and then wait by the door for instruction. Fynn seemed calm tonight so if you're lucky, they might just ask for another bottle at some point and leave you alone."

"Got it. Stage. Stairs. Eyes down. Wait by the door. Easy enough."

"Yeah, easy enough."

I took the tray before he could change his mind and wove my way to the stage. The dance floor had filled since I'd arrived, so I stuck to the edges of the crowd, ignoring the gyrating bodies on the floor and in the cages suspended from the ceiling. Thankfully, no one approached to request an order or—other things—and I reached the stairs without mishap. It was almost enough to make me think I might pull this off, but trepidation settled in the pit of my stomach with every stair I took. What if I had been right about the echo and the killer knew I'd watched it? What was to stop him from running me through with that sword? No one would hold him accountable.

Maybe they would discard my body somewhere easily discovered by police. At least then I might receive a proper burial and a halfhearted investigation into my murder; however, I had a feeling the police department would consider it an expected outcome of my profession. Jac would try his damndest to give me justice, even though my heart lurched at the idea of him being put through that. He was an asshole of the highest order, but his reaction to thinking I was dead earlier led me to suspect he might be a tad upset if I died. Just because I hated him, it didn't mean I wanted him to suffer life that, and aside from the emotional trauma, anything that led him too close to the Andariens and the supernatural world was too dangerous.

"Are you going to bring the drink in, girl?" Fynn snapped, opening the door to the private suite and bringing me out of my worries.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, hurrying into the room and lowering the tray to the table like Marcus instructed.

Fynn closed the door. Immediately, I felt trapped, and I cut my eyes to either side of me, attempting to take in my surroundings in case I had to fight my way out. Only one other figure was in the room—a massive man who bore as striking resemblance to Fynn, which meant this had to be Kohl, and Kohl was not the killer.

"I haven't seen you around," Kohl said, uncoiling from his seat and approaching me as I backed away. "Are you a new hire?"

Nodding, I scooted back, bumping into a solid mass of muscle that rumbled as Fynn chuckled. His hands squeezed my arms, pinning me against him as his brother closed in. Kohl stopped inches from me, his eyes roving over my body from eyes to toes and back up before his hands began to retrace the steps.

"Aren't you a pretty thing," he said, his finger slipping beneath my scarf and leaving a scorching trail across my naked flesh. His gray eyes iced over. "What species are you? You smell... different."

Fynn nuzzled his nose in my neck, and he sniffed deeply. "You're right. I thought human at first, but this close, that's not right. It's something ancient. Familiar but I can't quite place it."

"I'm human," I squeaked out. "Rumor is we have some witch in our bloodline, but the power skipped me."

"Hmm," Kohl said, gripping my hips and pulling me out of his brother's grasp. His knee went between my legs, and he applied pressure to the small of my back, forcing me to arch against him as he stared into my eyes. "What bloodline is it?"

"Oh, let her go for now," Fynn said, stepping around us and pouring himself a drink. All his earlier intensity had faded, and he looked bored. "We have other mysteries to concern ourselves with, and she doesn't smell like she's willing. You know I prefer them to want to fuck us."

Kohl let me go so abruptly, I nearly fell over. "I know you do. It's a damn shame you've become so modern."

"It's not modern. It's called exercising constraint. Otherwise, we're no better than the animals we're descended from."

My hand was on the door, and my heart was pounding so hard I almost missed what he said. Andariens were descended from animals? Did they all house an animal half that was separate? It was just more proof I was on the right track, but I couldn't exactly turn around and ask these two to explain that last bit in more depth. Not unless I wanted to be killed—or thoroughly ravished and then killed, which might not be the most terrible way to go.

"Did you want something?" Kohl asked hopefully.

"No," I squeaked, twisting the knob when I realized I hadn't moved. "I'll just be out of your—oof."

This time, it was my face that took the brunt of the muscle wall. I bounced back, rubbing my sore nose and blinking back tears as a set of powerful hands grabbed me around the arms for the second time that night. Only this time, it felt less like a prison and more like support.

"Are you okay?"

Kohl growled. "Hands off, Cian."

The one called Cian released me, but slow enough to prove he wasn't jumping for Kohl. What kind of creature would dare defy an Andarien like that?

"I'm fine," I said, my eyes finally clearing as I risked a glance upward.

My sharp intake of breath made Cian's electric blue eyes narrow in concern—and maybe suspicion—but I had my answer. There was only one type of creature who would defy an Andarien—another Andarien. Even worse, one who'd I'd seen only hours ago pulling his sword out of Molly Kincaid.