Sweaty from the gym, Dayna headed back to her bedroom. She’d spent several hours in her office frustrating herself that Zaabha seemed more elusive than ever. Then she’d worked herself pretty hard in the gym, trying not to think of a certain wealthy casino owner.

She thought again of the moment he’d started to feed on her energy and rubbed her symbiont stone. She also thought of what she’d almost done to Mia.

Dayna stopped, dropping back against the wall. It was time. She couldn’t ignore this alien inside her any more.

She needed to learn to feed.

Her stomach twisted and she headed back down the hall. Sleep first, then she’d think about that in the fresh light of day. Using her enhanced hearing, and accessing some of those abilities her symbiont gave her, she listened to the noise on the penthouse level.

No other sound except the rush of air from the ventilation. Rillian must be down in the casino somewhere.

When she stepped into her bedroom, she saw the small communications device on her bed. Frowning, she snatched it up.

“Dayna,” Rillian’s rich voice filled the room. “Tannon has a lead. Exactly twenty minutes ago, the Thraxian who left the biomatter on the notes from the murders entered the Dark Nebula. We’ve been unable to find him, but we tracked him to a new nightclub I have opening tonight. I thought you’d like to be there.”

“You thought right.” She hurried to the bathroom.

“There’s a dress hanging in your closet. You’ll need to fit in and not scare him off.”

Dayna pulled a face.

“I also left you another gift you might like.”

She pulled another face. “It had better not be sparkly.” She spotted the box on her bedside table. It wasn’t a huge box, but it was too big for jewelry.

Pulling the lid off, she paused, a smile stretching over her face.

He’d given her a laser pistol.

She pulled the matte-black weapon from the box. It fit perfectly in her hands. Just the right size and weight.

Damn the man. He apparently had her all worked out. She also found a sexy little thigh holster, small enough to wear under a dress.

She hurried to get ready. In record time, she was speed walking down the corridor to the elevators, smoothing her hand down the short skirt of her dress. It was just loose enough to hide her new pistol that was strapped to her thigh.

She stroked the glossy fabric. It was black, but when she moved, tiny shots of silver filaments were visible. It reminded her of Rillian’s eyes. The gown had a high neck that tied at her shoulder, and the back…was non-existent. Her legs were also mostly bare.

She felt incredibly uncomfortable and sexy at the same time.

When she reached the elevator, Rillian was leaning against the wall beside it.

Liquid-silver eyes moved over her, a flash of heat making them glow. “Perfect.”

Dayna was still trying to get her breath back. He wore a tailored black suit, with a coat that fell to his knees. His shirt was so white that it looked silver. He was so damn handsome that he stole her breath.

He held out an arm for her and she slid hers through his. “Any sign of the Thraxian?”

Rillian shook his head. “He’s being very sneaky for a drakking Thraxian. The nightclub is packed. He’s there, but no one’s seen him yet.”

Sounded extremely fishy to her. As they stepped into the elevator, she studied Rillian’s face. “Are you still angry?”

“No. I’m in perfect control.”

She once again found that handsome face unreadable. “I do not think you are a killer.”

He touched the elevator controls. “Then you’re foolish.”

She shrugged. “You aren’t going to scare me off with the icy-cold Rillian routine. I know you.”

His gaze zeroed in on her face.

“I know you,” she said again. “And I don’t mean the mask you show the world.”

The elevator whizzed them downward, but this time, they stopped at one of the middle levels of the building. As he led her into a plush-carpeted corridor lined by magnificent art that made her think of nebulas and distant planets, she heard the muted thump of music ahead.

“By the way, thank you for the laser pistol.”

He smiled. “I thought it suited you better than jewels.”

At a large doorway, they paused, and she took in the packed room.

“Welcome to Darkest Sin,” he drawled.

The new club was dark, sexy, and expensive. It suited him.

The walls were black, and the ceiling looked like liquid silver. Giant chandeliers draped down and lights pulsed to the music. Through a wall of glass, she saw a large terrace extending off the side of the building, filled with intimate tables, chairs, and couches.

Gorgeous men and women were packed on the dance floor, gyrating. Several servers walked through the crowd with trays full of multi-colored drinks. All of them didn’t just wear silver, but looked like they’d been dipped in the metal. They were covered in head-to-toe silver paint.

Rillian tugged her forward, and they descended the black steps and moved into the crowd. She watched people react to him. A small ripple went through the crowd and women eyed him hungrily.

For many of the women, Dayna knew it was about his wealth and position. But for her, it was the irresistible pull of the man. It wasn’t just the glossy looks, it was the intelligent mind and the single-minded dedication to running his empire.

It was also the fact that he’d felt anger and grief over the death of an employee he didn’t know and a former lover. She’d talked enough to his staff to know he took care of his own. It was also because he held himself back from the world, not letting it get close enough to ruffle him.

He deserved to be ruffled. She knew life couldn’t be lived properly if you didn’t get your feet dirty sometimes.

God, she wanted him. She was tired of fighting her desire. For once, she wanted pleasure. On her own terms. She wanted Rillian.

She was quiet as he checked in with his people. He talked with the club manager, a blue-skinned woman wearing a silver shirt with her tailored trousers. After ensuring that everything was running smoothly, he found Tannon standing by the bar.

For once, the taciturn security man looked relaxed and was nursing a drink. She realized he was blending in.

“Any sign of our visitor?” Rillian murmured.

Tannon shook his head. “Nothing.” Frustration twisted his lips. “I don’t know how he could be a drakking ghost.”

“We’ll find him.” With a nod, Rillian pulled Dayna deeper into the club.

“Drink?” he asked.

She shook her head. Rillian was intoxicating enough.

“There are a few guests I need to greet.”

She stood beside him as he stopped to talk with a few people she guessed were Kor Magna VIPs. They all eyed her curiously while she covertly scanned the room.

She didn’t see any Thraxians. No towering bodies, or black horns, or dark, cracked skin with orange glowing beneath.

He finally pulled her away. “Dance with me?”

She blinked up at him. “Dance? Right now?”

“He could be hiding on the dance floor.”

Rillian pulled her into the center of the dance floor and Dayna’s pulse skipped. The music throbbed, the beat moving through her. The sounds were alien, but the beat of a song always felt familiar. She’d always enjoyed dancing on the rare times she managed to make it out with friends. Usually they hit the pub, but occasionally they made it to a club of some sort.

Rillian pulled her closer, swaying to the music. Her body brushed against his, and before she knew it, they were pressed together. The music echoed in her ears and the heat of him warmed her skin. His arms wrapped around her and he fitted one leg between hers. Desire. It flared to life, urgent, insistent.

She forced herself to remember why they were there. She scanned the dance floor, taking in the writhing mass.

“Rillian.”

She heard Tannon’s tinny voice. Rillian was wearing some sort of earpiece.

“Go ahead,” Rillian answered.

“The Thraxian biosignature has disappeared.”

Rillian muttered a curse. “He left?”

“It appears that way. My team is doublechecking.”

Dayna muttered a few curses of her own. At this rate, they’d never find Zaabha.

“Well, we may as well enjoy the music,” Rillian said.

Sure. She kept moving to the song, but she thought of Ever and Sam. They sure as hell weren’t dancing.

But it wasn’t long before the music worked its way through her system and she felt her muscles relax. The press of Rillian’s strong body was too tantalizing to ignore.

She remembered his fingers on her throat earlier in the gym, the feel of energy being pulled from her.

What she hadn’t registered at the time was that when he’d done that, it had felt good. She swallowed. Now she was curious as to what a proper feeding might feel like.

Rillian moved with the beat, although he didn’t use fancy dance moves. They just swayed against each other, feeling the energy, the music, and the crowd work through them.

She leaned into him. She could hear his steady heartbeat. His hand slid up her back, pressing against her skin. His touch left a heated trail.

She moved against him. “Rillian—”

He stroked lower, until his fingers touched the lower back of her dress, just above her ass, rubbing the delicate skin there. An intimate caress. His fingers slipped inside the fabric, cupping her ass.

“You drive me out of my mind,” he murmured against her ear. “No one ever has before.”

God. She rubbed against him, feeling the hard erection in his trousers. He spun her, until her back was pressed to his chest. The crowd was close, other bodies bumping against them. The music changed, and the lights dimmed. They were mostly drenched in shadow, with the odd burst of colored light here and there.

“You need someone to shake you out of your neat, controlled life,” she said.

Rillian’s hand slipped up her thigh, and she felt it go under the hem of her dress, bunching the fabric of her dress up. “Is that right?”

She gasped and grabbed his wrist. “Yes.”

“You’re already shaking me up and all I want is more.” Hot lips pressed against her neck.

She arched back against him. Then she released his hand. His clever fingers continued moving under her dress. He stroked the weapon strapped to her thigh. “This is sexier than seeing Friskan diamonds against your skin.”

Dayna swallowed. She hadn’t bothered with panties. The dress was cut too low at the back. “No one ever says no to you or pushes you.”

“It’s dangerous to push me, Dayna.” His fingers slid between her legs and when he realized she was bare, she heard him groan. He stroked her folds.

Oh, God. He was stroking her right here in the middle of a crowded room. “You don’t frighten me.”

“I should,” he growled against her ear. “And I shouldn’t want you this much.”

“But you do,” she panted.

“Yes.” One thick finger slid inside her.

As the music thumped around them, Rillian worked her. She leaned back into him, and a second finger joined the first. She stifled a moan. His fingers found a rhythm and then his thumb rubbed her clit.

Jesus, she was going to come. She felt her body tense, and she gripped onto his wrist. He tilted her head back, his mouth covering hers. He kissed her deeply, and with another stroke, Dayna came. Sensation flooded her, making her body shake. He swallowed her cries with his mouth.

She collapsed against him. God, little shivers of pleasure still coursed through her.

“I shouldn’t be touching you.”

“I know what I want.”

“You have no idea what I want to do to you.” His dark voice made her shiver. “I’m trying to do the right thing. For both of us.”

She spun to face him. “Rillian, I am not some weak damsel in need of protection. I can make my own decisions.”

“Enough.” He stepped back from her. “Go to your room and—”

“Like a child? The all-powerful Rillian always knows best.”

“Don’t push me, Dayna,” he warned.

“I told you, I think you need it.”

He leaned in, his voice harsh. “I know what I need.” Then he turned and stalked off into the crowd.

Dayna closed her eyes. She didn’t feel like dancing anymore. She climbed the steps to exit, but something made her look back.

Rillian had been mobbed by the crowd. He stood in the center of the club, and had two women clinging to him. On one side was a voluptuous blonde, and on the other, a svelte blue-haired woman.

Dayna’s belly clenched. She watched him lean over, a faint smile on his face, as he touched a strand of the blonde’s hair and tucked it behind her ear.

And then without lifting his head, his gaze flicked up and met Dayna’s.

Bastard. If he wanted easy and safe, he could have it.

Lifting her chin, she turned and walked out. But as she strode down the corridor, she fisted a hand and pressed it to her aching chest.

* * *

Rillian had slept badly.

He finished dressing, fastening his shirt. He’d forced himself to stay at the club long enough not to have people gossiping over his departure. He’d smiled and listened, but all his thoughts had been focused on Dayna and what they’d done on the dance floor. Finally, he’d shaken off the partygoers and left.

Dayna had pushed at him, challenged him. And he’d snapped and taken his bad mood out on her. In the morning light, he was feeling better physically. His symbiont had settled, and his anger had cooled.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was easy to see the scrappy con artist and smuggler he’d once been. He realized he looked a lot like the mother who’d essentially abandoned him and left him to rot. She’d died a bloody death several years ago, but he guessed she lived on in the son she’d mostly ignored.

He’d fought hard to get where he was, and it had been a long time since anyone had made him react on instinct.

Leaving his room, he went looking for Dayna. He figured he owed her an apology.

He knocked on her bedroom door and didn’t wait for an answer, but just pushed it open.

Her room was empty and her bed was neatly made. His gut clenched. His efficient cleaning staff wouldn’t have been in yet. Drawing a breath, he picked up Dayna’s scent—faded and several hours old.

She hadn’t slept in her room.

He spun, panic trickling into his veins. Where was she? Where had she spent the night? His jaw tightened, remembering the furious look she’d shot him at the party. Who had she spent the night with?

Storming into his office, he went to his screens. She had to be here somewhere. She was still afraid of her symbiont. She wouldn’t have left.

Then he scented her.

He turned and walked through the adjoining door to the conference room. He pulled up short.

She was asleep in a chair.

Slowly he walked over and sat in the chair across from her. There were papers spread on the table, and the comp screen was glowing. He saw Illiana’s autopsy report, and the text of the Zaabha map. He’d had Tannon translate everything into Dayna’s home language for her. Looking back at Dayna’s relaxed face, he sat there for a moment and watched her sleep.

Those pretty, intelligent eyes were closed, but even in sleep, she still had a stubborn tilt to her jaw.

“Dayna.”

She startled awake. “I was just resting my eyes.”

He smiled. “Really?”

“Yes.” Her gaze came into focus and landed on him. Then it cooled. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

He ignored the venom in her voice. “No.”

She leaned over to shuffle the papers on the table.

“I spent most of it in the security room,” he told her.

She shrugged, like she didn’t care.

“I’m…sorry for yesterday evening.” Her gaze met his again. “I was angry and I took it out on you.”

She stared at his face before her tight shoulders relaxed a little. “I was planning to stay angry at you a while longer yet.”

“I didn’t enjoy any of those women. I worked with Tannon most of the night and we learned that the Thraxian had left his biomatter on a dagger. He had someone sneak it into the party and leave it behind.”

“Toying with us.”

Rillian nodded and raked a hand through his hair. “I warned you that me losing control is not a good idea.”

She tilted her head. “Because of your symbiont.”

He nodded. “I was never supposed to survive my symbiont. They almost always kill their hosts and they are very powerful.”

She tilted her head. “If you lose control?”

“Then my symbiont will go on a feeding rampage.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. So you see why I don’t lose control. Plus, I don’t like it.”

She managed a small smile. “You’re going to have to accept that you’re mortal like the rest of us, Rillian.”

He smiled. “Shh, don’t tell anyone.”

That startled a laugh out of her. Then there was a knock at the door and one of the kitchen staff rolled in a tray covered in food.

“Breakfast, sir.”

“Thank you, Drast.”

Dayna groaned. “Feeding me again.”

The man set the food on the conference table and left. Rillian loaded up a plate and set it in front of Dayna. “I’ve spent a lot of time working out what suits the human palate best.” He smiled. “And what you like.”

She plucked up a piece of fruit. “I know. No one’s ever looked after me before.”

“What about your parents?”

She shrugged. “After my sister died, they were pretty messed up. I took over a lot of the household chores. And after my mom died—” another shrug “—I just kept doing them.”

From a little girl, she’d been responsible and taking care of everyone else. It just made him want to spoil her more.

They ate together, Dayna pulling sheets of paper for perusal as she popped various bits of food in her mouth. She paused, her eyes fluttering as she absorbed the tastes.

He watched her lips. He could watch her eat all day.

“We need to find Zaabha.” She leaned back in her chair. “If we want to stop the murders, we need to stop the reason the Thraxians are killing people. We need to be on the offense, not the defense.”

Rillian sipped some zava juice. It was tart and sweet. “I prefer action. To find Zaabha, we need to solve the witch’s map.”

“You said Galen’s had people go over it?”

“Yes. Nothing.”

“Maybe we should talk to Neve and Corsair? They found it, and might know more if we ask the right questions.”

“A good idea. I’ll contact them and ask them to come here.”

He saw that she was now picking at the food, where moments before she’d been eating with gusto. A grimace crossed her face, and she dropped a hand to rub the spot where her symbiont lived.

“You need to feed,” he said quietly.

She pushed her chair back. “Maybe. Probably. Yes. But I’m not quite ready, yet.”

He nodded, seeing the glow in her eyes. “You can’t leave it for much longer.” He stood. “I’ll contact Corsair.”

Back in his office, Rillian asked his assistant to contact the caravan master. Then he started taking care of some business that had been building up. He made several calls, gave lots of orders, and arranged some meetings for his Dark Oasis Project.

As he stared out the window, his gaze moved to the edge of the desert, and he thought of the human women still lost out there—Ever and Sam. He hoped they were still alive. Still the same as they had been.

He pulled his sleek comp screen closer and tapped it. Immediately, it filled with camera feed of Dayna sitting in the adjacent conference room.

She was rubbing her lower back. He knew that the chairs weren’t made for extended use, and made a mental note to order a more comfortable one for her. But she ignored her aches, leaned over and jotted down some notes. Resilient and tough. Beautiful and smart. His fingers curled around the screen. By the stars, he wanted her.

His communicator beeped. “Sir?” His assistant’s modulated voice. “Caravan Master Corsair for you.”

“Thank you, Tarin. Put him through.”

Time to find Zaabha.