“I don’t see a body. She must have taken him.”

“She’d be smart to keep him alive.” Chrysabelle turned back to Fi. “Where would she go? She’s got to have a place to hole up before dawn.”

Fi scratched her head. “She might not care about that yet. She might want revenge for being locked up.” She bit her bottom lip. “She could have heard Doc and me talking about going to the pride headquarters. Do you think she’d go after him there?”

“If she’s crazy enough to work for Tatiana, she’s crazy enough to do anything. Let’s go. My car and driver are outside.”

“Awesome. We should leave a note for Mal, let him know.”

“Good idea.” One apology was enough to owe him.

They hustled back to the galley where Fi dug up a pen and a scrap of paper.

“Here,” Chrysabelle said. “Let me.”

Came to apologize. Found Damian and vampire gone. Think she’s headed to pride HQ, as are Fi and I.—C

With Fi on her heels, she ran down to Mal’s room and stuck the note between the door and the jamb. “All right, let’s head over there and warn Doc.”

Fi’s directions and Jerem’s enthusiastic driving got them there in less than twenty minutes. Not a sign of Daciana or Damian along the way. Not that she’d expected to see them on the sidewalk.

“Here.” Fi leaned through the car’s partition to point to a building at the end of the block.

“This is pride headquarters? Looks like a nightclub.” The sign above the door said BAR NINE.

Fi sat back. “It’s both.”

Jerem parked the car, his eyes on Chrysabelle in the rearview mirror. “After Sinjin lost Seven to Dominic in a poker game, he opened this place. The nine is either supposed to be for a cat’s nine lives or the fact that Sinjin wanted to be two notches above Dominic. Take your pick.”

Fi put her face against the window to look at the top of the building. “Pride leader gets the penthouse.”

“Doc up there?” Chrysabelle asked.

She shrugged and slipped farther into her seat. “Lights are on.”

Jerem unlocked the doors. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“We have to,” Chrysabelle answered.

“You want me to go with you? I’m not feline, but I am varcolai.”

“I thought so,” Fi said. “What kind?”

“Ursine.”

“You’re a pig-shifter?”

He growled softly. “Ursine means bear.” His gaze went back to Chrysabelle, waiting for her answer.

“The pride has no problem with me. We’ll be perfectly safe.”

His gaze flickered over Fi. “There might be an issue if Doc’s new wife is there. Maybe Fi should stay with me.”

Fi grunted. “I kinda hate that that might be a good idea.”

“You might also want to leave your weapons behind. At least the visible ones.”

“No.” Chrysabelle hooked her hand through the strap of one sacre. “I’m not willing to acquiesce that much.” She put her other hand on the door handle. “I’ll only be gone long enough to make Doc aware of this new situation.”

She got out. The soft, muted sounds of music emanated from the club and a small crowd milled around the entrance, but it was nothing like Seven’s madness. She took a breath to steel herself. Get in, see Doc, get out. That’s all she had to do.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the velvet ropes and the pair of bouncers guarding the front.

The smaller of the two stepped into her path, blocking her from going beyond the ropes. “No mortals.” His gaze went briefly to the handles of the twin sacres peeking over her shoulders. “And certainly not mortals packing steel. Sorry, sweetheart.”

She wished she had Mal’s powers of persuasion. As it was, her comarré charm wasn’t going to be enough. A good lie and a little bravado might be, though. “Mortal? Do I look like a mortal to you? Check your night vision.”

“So you’re comarré, so what. We don’t need your kind here.”

“Oh no? Tell that to your new pride leader, then. Maddoc’s hired me as personal security.”

“That right?”

She leaned down, putting them eye to eye. “Turn me away. See how long your job lasts after I explain to Doc how helpful you’ve been.” She held his gaze without blinking. “He’s looking to clear some deadwood anyway.”

A muscle in his jaw spasmed. “Yeah, fine, whatever.” He unsnapped the rope and held it open.

She slipped through. She hadn’t expected that to work, but with Doc being new on the job, maybe they didn’t know him well enough to know what he would and wouldn’t actually do.

Samba music pulsed through her as she made her way inside. Large plush seating areas and potted palms dominated the perimeter, but the two-story dance floor in the center held a riotous crowd moving in a way that only creatures with superior flexibility and extra vertebrae could. From the second-story wraparound balcony, more patrons watched, drank, and conversed. Maybe Doc was up there, keeping an eye on things.

She looked for a way up and found an elevator. Unfortunately, it also had a bouncer. The upstairs must be a VIP area. Definitely where Doc would be. Maybe the same approach would work with him. She pushed through the crowd, accidentally bumping someone.

A glass smashed to the floor.