By the time I arrived, Club Fang was going off, with the place as packed as it had been the night I showed up with Logan—maybe even more so. As I let the valet take my car away, I wondered belatedly, if I’d even be able to get in, what with the line winding around the block. On Logan’s arm I was able to walk right up to the front of the line. But me, by myself…

No. I squared my shoulders. Lifted my chin. I could do this. I was dressed to kill and channeling my inner Maisie. And Maisie would never let some silly velvet rope stand in her way of getting to Logan.

I meant, Rayne. Getting to Rayne. Which was why I was here.

Argh.

Drawing in a breath, I sauntered up to the bouncer. Trying to look cool, calm and collected even as I was this close to eating it on the pavement with these high heels. I could feel the stares of the other patrons in line on me as I walked past them, but I kept my eyes on the prize. When I arrived at the front door, the bouncer was in the process of letting a girl with a rather elaborate nose ring inside. When he saw me, his hand froze on the rope. His mouth practically dropped open. I hid a small grin. Thank you, Darla. The dress was doing its job.

“Hey! I thought it was our turn!” the girl in line protested as the bouncer clicked the rope closed again. She set her blood red lips in a pout, giving me a look of death. But the bouncer ignored her, his eyes locked on me.

“I’m here for Rayne McDonald,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering with nervousness. “She’s expecting me.”

The bouncer nodded. He opened the rope for me. I gave him a sweet smile and sauntered through. As I passed the look-of-death girl, I gave her the finger. So un-Hannah like it wasn’t even funny. And yet so satisfying at the same time. Maybe I should channel Maisie more often.

The club, it turned out, was as packed inside as it was outside. Lights were flashing. Dancers were gyrating to dark, techno beats. I pushed past them, holding up my skirts to avoid being stepped on. I could feel people’s fascinated stares as I crossed the room. Maybe this outfit was a bit too much.

Okay, definitely too much. But kind of amazing at the same time.

“There you are! I almost didn’t recognize you!”

A voice behind me made me turn. My eyes fell on Rayne who was nodding her head appreciatively. “You look fucking amazing,” she said with a low whistle. “Seriously, when this is all over, you must let me borrow that dress.”

I snorted. “You can have it,” I told her. “It’s really not my thing.”

“I can assure you, luv. That is definitely your thing.”

I whirled around to see a tall, blond vampire step in behind me. He looked like a young Jude Law. Super cute. Rayne rolled her eyes and smacked him in his stomach.

“Down Jareth,” she scolded. “You’re mine, remember?”

The vampire grinned naughtily, then leaned over to kiss Rayne on the top of her head. “So you keep reminding me,” he teased. But the way he looked at her told me she had nothing to worry about. He was completely smitten. Must be nice. To have someone to look at you like that.

Which brought me to my reason for being here.

“Can we talk somewhere private?” I asked.

“Yes! I reserved a room in the back. Come on.” Rayne grabbed my hand and dragged me to the back of the club. Jareth trailed behind us. And suddenly I realized why his name seemed so familiar. Jareth had been the name of the Blood Coven Master that Logan went to see. Was this the same Jareth? Was he really some vampire king?

And, if so, could he help me now?

We headed to the back of the club, through the VIP entrance and into the feeding rooms. Rayne grabbed a key off the wall and walked over to room number seven, unlocking it and pulling it open.

“After you,” she said with a mock bow.

I stepped inside, suddenly feeling a little weirded out. And who could blame me? I was literally going into a bloodletting room in a vampire club with two vampires. One who may or may not be an obsessed fan. What if she had this idea that she wanted to drink my blood? Maybe she thought it would give her some insight into the plot of the next book?

I shook my head. While that was a pretty cool plot idea for a future novel, it seemed pretty unlikely in real life.

I looked around the room. It was sparse, but clean. I didn’t know what I had expected. Maybe some blood stains on the wall? But it might as well have been a hospital room. Well-lit, with a small table and two comfy looking armchairs. Rayne and Jareth squeezed into one chair, getting cozy together, while I took the other, my dress fanning out as I plopped down.

“That dress though!” Rayne said, giving a low whistle. “Where did you even find such a magnificent thing?”

“Now Rayne. I don’t think she came all this way to discuss fashion,” Jareth admonished gently.

Rayne rolled her eyes. “Okay fun police,” she groaned. Then she turned back to me. “So,” she said. “What seems to be the problem?”

I drew in a breath. Here went nothing.

“Last night,” I said, “I feel asleep at Hotel Blood Coven or whatever. But when I woke up, I was back in my old bed. Logan was gone and all that was left was this note he’d written, saying he was going to take care of everything. And that I wouldn’t be in any danger from Slayer, Inc.”

“I like how he takes all the credit for that,” Rayne muttered before Jareth hushed her.

I bit my lower lip. “Anyway, I was at my book signing tonight when I suddenly felt this…something. Something odd that I couldn’t quite put my finger one. Like there was someone in the room I couldn’t see. A sound I couldn’t quite hear. It was the weirdest feeling. I don’t think anyone else felt it.” I frowned, my heart pounding all over again as I remembered the scene. “I got out of there as fast as I could and headed home. But I still didn’t feel safe. And since I didn’t have Logan’s contact info, I tried you.” I shrugged. “That’s pretty much it.”

I caught Rayne and Jareth exchanging looks. “What?” I demanded. “Do you know something I don’t? Do you think Slayer, Inc. could be after me, after all?”

“Very unlikely,” Rayne replied. “I went to their headquarters yesterday to ask them to lay off. But they told me you weren’t a target. And I doubt anything has changed since then.”

Oh. I frowned, my head spinning in confusion at this news. I should have been relieved. But for some reason I felt even more disconcerted. I mean, was I wrong about all of this? Had it only been my own anxiety acting up back at the bookstore? My overreaching imagination conjuring up a book-worthy third act to my date with a vampire?

But no. I shook my head. I had felt it. It had been there—whatever it was. It was real.

I turned back to the vampires, realizing Jareth was speaking.

“Honestly,” he said. “What you are describing does not sound like Slayer, Inc. Most Slayer, Inc. operatives are human. You would see them coming a mile away.”

I looked at Rayne. “You’re not human,” I pointed out.

“I also would never stake you,” she shot back, not missing a beat. “You’ve got too many books to write before you head off to the great pizza place in the sky.”

“Right.” I made a face. “So, not Slayer, Inc.,” I said. “Then…who?”

Jareth leaned forward in his chair, his eyes locked on me. “Sounds to me like you’re being hunted by a vampire.”