She shrugged out of his hold. “I don’t have an attitude. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is we’re about to go into a blood club, asking questions, putting ourselves in mortal danger, and we aren’t a team.”

For a moment Sasha just stared at him, trying to get the adrenaline rush that gripped her to slowly ebb. Eventually she nodded. He was right. It didn’t make sense to go barging into a Vampire entertainment den filled with very hungry Vamps and their loyal human donors unless they were a united front.

Sasha eased the tension out of her neck. “We’ve been off since we were in Ethan’s cellar.”

“We didn’t arrive in New Orleans battling,” he said quietly, staring at her.

“No, we didn’t.” Sasha glanced around the parking lot, aware that the lack of bodyguards didn’t mean they weren’t being watched. Vampires always had lookouts. There were always bodyguards for the elite who might be passing through and to keep lower-level vamps that might be semi-blood crazed in line. With the high tensions between the wolves and the recent war, there should have been more obvious security. Then again, Vampires didn’t do obvious.

“Do you wanna go through the bouncers, or simply show up at the bar?” Hunter reached out and pushed a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear.

“Let’s just do the in-and-out thing,” she murmured.

Hunter nodded and pulled her into a nearby shadow.

“Johnny Walker Black, straight up,” Sasha told the startled bartender as she stepped out of a shadow in the corner. She slid onto an open seat and Hunter took the one beside her.

Pulsing techno-fusion music thrummed, the steady rhythm reminiscent of a rapid heartbeat. The sound vibrated through the floor, through the black marble bar, and through the chair she sat on. Sasha gazed around the black and red light-washed area, watching exotic Serpentine dancers cling to the poles, baring fangs, while a mobbed dance floor pulsed with eager Goth-clad bodies.

“We don’t serve your kind in here anymore,” the bartender said, presenting full fangs.

“Oh, my bad,” Sasha said with a hard smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to take my complaint up with the owner.”

Hunter spun and swung as a burly bouncer materialized out of thin air, dropping him to the floor. Sasha whipped out her semiautomatic from her shoulder holster, leveling the weapon point-blank at the bartender’s forehead.

“Don’t be foolish,” she said in a near snarl. “You can smell the silver. We just want a civil conversation with Geoff.”

The slightly dazed bouncer spit out blood on the floor and picked up his chipped fang, hissing at Hunter while patrons gawked and other bouncers moved in slowly.

“A civil conversation is always welcomed,” Baron Montague said in an even tone, parting the crowd. “What brings you to my establishment under such foolishly hostile circumstances?”

He held Sasha’s gaze for a moment, a pair of hardened blue eyes slowly turning black as he studied her. Geoff tossed a long spill of dark brown hair over his shoulder with a nod as Sasha’s gaze narrowed on his aristocratic features. He wore a midnight blue velvet jacket and his white ruffled shirt was slightly askew at the neck and stained by the slightest hint of blood. It was clear that he’d been enjoying some feeding companions when he’d been interrupted. Screw him. A hard smile found its way to Sasha’s lips.

“A word… in private?” Sasha said, lowering her weapon.

“As the lady wishes,” the baron said, inclining his head toward an empty VIP table behind the casino area.

Sasha kept an eye out for any twitchy Vampires as they followed the baron. She knew that they wouldn’t attack on their own with Geoff right there. But that didn’t mean Geoff wouldn’t tell them to attack. She knew Hunter, who was bringing up the rear, was on alert as well.

When they reached the table, Sasha declined to sit when he swept his hand before them in a gallant gesture.

“This won’t take long,” Sasha said. “I’m sure by now you’ve guessed this isn’t a social call.”

“I’m shocked,” the baron said in a sarcastic tone, placing a graceful hand over his heart. But then his tone took a sinister dip as he stared at Sasha, then Hunter. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your intrusion here at my place of business?”

“Do you know of the Phoenixes Desidera and Penelope?” Sasha folded her arms over her chest.

“Of course,” the Baron said coolly, taking a seat and snapping his fingers. A blood goblet appeared at his table and he took a sip from it. “We value diversity here at the Blood Oasis.”

“Did they work here?” Sasha said with a low growl beginning to form in her throat. She hated these game-playing bastards.

“Now why would you think they do anything at all here, other than enjoy the-”

Sasha whipped out the card and flung it down in front of the baron, cutting his denial short. “This was in Desidera’s purse. Penelope’s calendar had BO twelve to five written in it at least three days a week for months.”

“The card is a member’s card,” the baron said evenly with a deadly smile. “Penelope is one of my dancers. When she gets Desidera to dance regularly, there may be a bonus in it for her.”

Sasha glanced at Hunter and then returned her gaze to Geoff. “So, they danced for you, at least one did regularly, and the other came on occasion to see if she wanted in?”

“They are the best exotic dancers around… McGregor cannot nearly begin to pay what we are willing to pay. Therefore, the girls are torn-loyalty versus commerce. It is always the conundrum, oui?”

“Now was that so hard? Why did you keep it a secret?” Sasha demanded, losing patience by the second.

“We’re not exactly popular with the other paranormals right now, are we?” The baron glared at her and pursed his lips for a moment before he went on. “I don’t think they want anyone to know. I don’t hold it against them… we all have our secrets and we honor that in our realm, unlike others. They are magnificent performers. Extremely popular.”

“Did they let anyone feed off them?” Indignation crawled through her, just thinking about the possibility.

“No,” the baron said, his fangs beginning to crest. “They aren’t on the menu. I make sure that is very clear to anyone who set foot in here. I do look after my own employees. Now that I have answered a flurry of your questions, I have some of my own. For starters, why are you in here asking about these two lovely ladies and sounding like you’re accusing me of something?”

“They’re dead,” Sasha said, watching him closely as he calmly took a sip from his goblet. “Killed sometime in the last four hours, I believe.”

Hunter folded his arms over his chest, keeping his back toward the wall.

“And you think I had something to do with their deaths?”

“I think a lot of things, Baron, but I know we have two dead girls and that they both worked for you. That’s enough for me to become a major pain in your ass while I find out who killed them.”

“And where did you find their bodies?” The baron leaned forward with his elbows on the table, making a tent in front of his mouth with his long, graceful fingers as he stared up at Sasha.

“Desidera was found in the basement of The Fair Lady and Penelope was found in her home.”

The baron sat back, one eyebrow raised, and he picked up his goblet again. “Your requirement for guilt is that they both worked for me and yet they also both worked for Ethan McGregor… and you actually found one of them in his basement. Seems to me that you should stop looking into coffins and pay attention to those in your little alliance.”

Hunter pushed off the wall with a warning growl so quickly that security instantly materialized around them. “How about if we look into coffins during the day?”

“I suggest you keep your guard dog on a short choker chain in here, Sasha,” the baron warned. “Unprovoked violence could be misconstrued as a reason to go to war.”