29

Fortunately, later in the evening, I had a breakthrough. I caught a faint waft of what I was looking for near the entrance of a bar. I’d know Kira’s smell anywhere: hints of vanilla and honeysuckle, an undertone of seawater and birch bark, with the smallest hint of rose water. My heart stuttered when I caught it, and my feet instinctually led me toward the scent.

Music assaulted my ears as I stepped into the bar. It was barely past eight, but the place was packed. The deep bass thumped so strongly, it resonated in my chest. Colored lights flashed and strobed around the bar and dance floor. I was already in a shit mood, and this place did little to appease me.

With everything going on in her life, Kira had decided clubbing was the best way to let off steam? Her life was on the line, and she was getting drunk in a bar? It made no sense. She was usually reserved and rigid. It wasn’t like her to hang out in a place like this, unless she was on assignment. But she also had what I considered a self-destructive streak a mile wide. That usually displayed itself by her taking risks and volunteering for dangerous missions. She was impulsive, but I’d be damned if I let that be the death of her.

There was a short line at the door, a bouncer checking IDs and taking cover charges. I skirted the line and ducked under the velvet rope.

“Hey, fucker, back of the line!” the bouncer called out, grabbing the sleeve of my leather jacket.

My lips peeled back in a growl. Without speaking, I lifted my wallet and showed him my Tranquility operative badge. The bouncer’s face went pale, and he released my jacket, holding his hands up in surrender.

“No problem, bro. You do you.”

“That’s what I thought,” I snarled as I entered the club.

There had to be a hundred people inside, their scents all intermingling. I’d have to search for Kira. I pressed through the crowd, eyes bouncing from face to face until I spotted her. There she was, at the far end of the dance floor, drink in hand, dancing with Zoe. Her halter top clung to her skin, her shorts short enough to display the curve of her ass. The clothes must have been Zoe’s—Kira never dressed like that.

As I watched her dance, a strange feeling coiled in my stomach at the sight of her bare midriff. My eyes flicked from the creamy skin of her stomach to the curve of her ass to the outline of her breasts. A flash of the day the lion shifter had poisoned her burst through my mind. Kira’s tongue on my neck, her hands pawing at me, her breathless voice asking me to fuck her, to make her come.

I shook my head, shoving the thoughts away. This was Kolton’s sister. As hot as she looked, I needed to get my head on straight. Things had to be put into perspective. Plus, she’d gone through a lot of shit lately. This wasn’t the time for me to have some thirteen-year-old boy’s wet dream. Even if the situation was different, Kira hated my guts—always would. Anything else I might feel was a moot point.

The two women didn’t notice me until I was standing right next to them.

“Hello, ladies,” I said, raising my voice to be heard above the music.

Kira’s eyes snapped toward my voice. Her nostrils flared, the muscles in her jaw flexing as she gritted her teeth.

“Oh, goody, we get to have angsty and uncomfortable conversations on our night out. How fun,” Zoe said drily after seeing both of our faces.

“What the hell are you doing here? How did you find us?” Kira demanded.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh!” Zoe shouted, “Emperor Killjoy has arrived. Hide the alcohol, stop having sex, and start praying to the gods for forgiveness.”

“Zoe, please,” I said.

She grabbed a couple of drinks from the bar and held them out to Kira and me. “Here, it’ll help you calm down.”

Kira took hers and gulped it down.

I cocked an eyebrow. “You’d better be checking that. Remember the last time you took a drink and didn’t double-check? You don’t want to put yourself in a bad position again.”

I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, but it was too late. Kira’s eyes flashed menacingly.

“And what position would that be?”

Again, my mind flashed with the memory of her skin pressed against me in the parking lot. Her fingers sliding across my chest, breathless moans begging me to do dirty things to her. I couldn’t let those thoughts out. Instead, I changed the subject.

“Are you guys out here celebrating or trying to drown your sorrows?” I asked, trying to get a read on how the audition went without coming straight out and asking.

Kira gave me a sickly-sweet smile dripping with sarcasm and held her drink up. “Both,” she shouted, then took another drink.

That told me nothing. Why had I assumed anything different? Kira was smart, and I was sure she knew exactly what I was trying to get at. She was probably being as obstinate as possible to piss me off.

Kira handed her glass to Zoe, then slipped into the crowd, vanishing into the dance floor. Shit. I’d lost sight of her.

Grabbing Zoe, I tugged her into a fairly quiet corner.

“Hey, Mister Grabby-Hands, watch it,” Zoe snapped, looking down at my fingers on her shoulder.

“Did Kira get on the show?” I asked.

Zoe’s eyes skirted to the dance floor where Kira had vanished, then back to my face. “Show? Like on stage? This isn’t that kind of club. You have to go a few blocks down to see that.”

“Dammit, Zoe, you know what I mean. The Reject Project? Did they choose her for the show?”