At seven o’clock, Gunner escorted Mir outside to the black Peugeot that sat in wait. She was dressed more modestly than usual, in a black dress, tall boots and a wool coat. The dress’s hem reached almost to her knees, its high neckline concealing her cleavage.

The moment she stepped out into the cool evening, she took a deep breath, delighted to be inhaling something other than recirculated air for once. God, she’d missed London’s streets and activities as simple as wandering about, staring into shop windows. She’d missed the freedom to do everyday, banal things.

When Cad saw her, he leapt out of the driver’s seat, darted around to the other side of the car and, with a gallant gesture of his arm, opened the passenger side door for her. Phair, who leaned against the roof of the car, stood watching, his eyes narrowed. No doubt he was waiting for Barton’s suspicious-looking employee to go away.

“My name’s Gunner,” the man said. “I work for Mr. Barton.”

“That’s nice,” Phair grunted back.

“Boss wants her back by eleven,” Gunner growled as he handed Mir over like she was an inanimate sack of potatoes.

“Eleven. Got it,” Phair replied before squeezing his way into the back seat.

“You going to be all right back there, mate?” asked Cad when he’d climbed into the front, chuckling when he looked at Phair’s reflection in the mirror. Poor guy had to bend in half just to fit inside the vehicle.

“I’m fine,” he growled.

Mir turned to look at him, issuing a warm smile. Despite the big man’s contortionist bending, he looked ridiculously good, dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. For once he wasn’t constricted by a tuxedo—not that he looked half-bad in formal wear, either.

Cad wore a leather jacket, grey jeans and brown shoes that looked like they must have been very expensive. He and Phair were the polar opposite in so many ways, but there was no denying that they were both residents of the realm far beyond handsome.

“You two look…nice. And I must say, you’re full of surprises,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to leave the club. Where exactly are we going tonight?”

“A special place,” said Cad. “One that we thought you might enjoy.”

“Disneyland?” she asked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.

“Ha ha. Not quite. Though there are giant dogs at our destination.”

“And the odd giant bear,” said Phair.

“Okay, my curiosity is officially piqued,” said Mir. “You’re not going to give me any more clues, then?”

“Nope,” said Cad.

As they drove away from Club Bacchus, Mir pressed her head back and shut her eyes for a rare moment of contentment. She couldn’t quite be happy yet—that would come someday later, perhaps, when things were perfect. But she was most definitely content, which was a huge step up from miserable.

If the men were taking her somewhere that she could be around more shifters like them, this was shaping up to be a very good night indeed. Of all the things she could have wished for in the world, time spent with more creatures like Phair and Cad was her idea of heaven.

There was only one thing that kept her from feeling full-on joy, though: Bry was still back at the club. Still alone, still in that dank bloody basement. Still vulnerable to Barton and his band of arseholes.

Someday, Mir told herself, she’d find a way to set her sister free. Bry, too, would feel the cool air on her skin, the invigoration of riding in a car, of knowing no one held dominion over her.

Someday…

Cad drove for a few minutes before pulling the car into an underground lot that looked as though it might lead up to a series of condominiums.

“Wait—you don’t live here, do you?” Mir asked, a new sort of nervous excitement infiltrating her belly. Maybe they weren’t going to a public place, after all. Maybe the men wanted some privacy with her outside of the Blue Room, and they were taking her to one of their homes. Maybe the three of them would make love on a giant shifter’s bed…

“No, this isn’t my place,” Cad said, letting out a quiet chuckle, “and I’m afraid we’re not going up. It’s actually what’s underneath the parking garage that we want you to see.”

“Ah. So, you’re taking me on a date in the sewers of London?” she asked. “Fantastic. I’ve always dreamed of frolicking in human waste with a couple of super-hot lads.”

From the back seat, Phair let out a laugh. “Our destination is just a little more elegant than underground rivers of nastiness, I hope.”

When Cad had popped the car into a spot in a dark corner, he got out and opened her door while Phair somehow extracted his massive frame from the back seat. The two men escorted Mir towards a set of elevators at the far end of the parking garage. But when they got close, instead of pressing any buttons, Cad and Phair both veered to the left, silently guiding her towards…nothing.

“You’re going to walk right into the wall!” Mir exclaimed more loudly than she intended.

“Well, yeah, that’s the plan,” said Phair, reaching for her hand and chuckling. She stared at him, aghast. Okay, this was a little weirder than anything she’d expected, even from a couple of shifters. What the hell were they doing? “Trust me,” Phair said. “Remember, I’d never hurt you, Mir.”

She took his hand and closed her eyes, letting out a quiet yelp as he pulled her forward. She could feel Cad’s hand on her back, urging her gently towards the seemingly impenetrable concrete.

“It’s okay,” the Dire Wolf shifter’s voice whispered. Just then, a strange, unexpected gust of cool air hit Mir’s face, as though they’d stepped outside again. She popped her eyes open, curious to know what on earth had just happened.

But she wasn’t entirely sure that she was even on earth anymore.

The three of them were standing inside some kind of ancient tunnel, its rounded walls glowing with the warmth of flames from hundreds of torches lining the walls. It looked like some kind of fairyland from a book, something out of a tale that involved a princess being freed from hundreds of years of entrapment.

She was confined between walls, yet somehow she felt more free than she had in months.

“What is this place?” she asked, mesmerized.

“A place we only bring the most worthy,” Cad replied, his tone serious. “Only the humans who are invited into our fold get to see the true Underground. Come, let us show you.”

They walked down the corridor to its end, where an exquisite, rounded wooden door awaited them. Again, it looked more like something out of a book than reality. A series of lush green vines braided themselves along its surface, as though it was struck daily by the sun’s rays.

Something was at work here. Some magic that Mir had never quite believed existed.

“Would you do the honours?” Phair asked, gesturing to her to open the door as she stared, her mouth slightly agape.

She pushed it open only to be greeted by the sight of an enormous room, bustling with large bodies, that stretched far into the distance. Most of its inhabitants were men, though she could see the odd woman intermingled among them, laughing and flirting. But these women weren’t like the ones she knew at the club.

They were actually enjoying their lives.

She stepped forward slowly, trying desperately to convince herself that this place was real. That the experience was real, that she wasn’t dreaming. This night was happening, and she was part of it.

Music throbbed in hard beats through the stone walls and floor, bodies ebbing and flowing in lithe, sensual movements along with the melody. Some of the denizens of the club sat at tables, drinks in hand, making easy conversation with each other.

On instinct Mir inhaled through her nose. The scent she picked up on the air was familiar—it was that of shifters.

“This…” she began, “it’s…I don’t understand how this even exists…”

“It’s called the U.C.,” Cad said, pressing towards her ear. “Otherwise known as the Underground Club. It’s a sort of quasi-safe haven, used by London’s shifters. For a while our kind was afraid to come—afraid that Barton’s men would find a way in. But lately a lot of us have found refuge here. I—we—thought you might like to meet some others of our kind.”

“I would,” she said, even though some small part of her was a little disappointed not to find herself alone with the men. But then, there was plenty of time later to be alone. The truth was, they’d given her a gift—brought her to a magical, miraculous place. Somewhere so far removed from London’s awful humans that she felt safe for the first time in months.

As she advanced deeper into the space, though, a pang assaulted her chest. Guilt, perhaps, or plain sadness. While she was safe, Bry still wasn’t.

She glanced down at her watch. 7:20. She had to be back in under four hours.

When she looked up, the two men were staring at her, apparently reading her mind. “It’s all right,” said Phair. “We know about the curfew. We’ll get you back.”