The girl gasped and looked at her boyfriend. “How did you know?”

“Guess I overheard something. Anyway, you look fine if you were planning to teach Serial Killing 101. But you’re scaring the little kiddies.” I dragged her to the skirts. “Try one of these print skirts. And ballet flats instead of combat boots.”

“I like her in black.” The boyfriend was obviously not on board. But then he probably had trouble seeing her through his guy-liner and mascara. I could have told him a fresh tube would take care of his clumping problem.

“I bet you’ll also like her when she’s hired next year and earning a paycheck. Am I right?” I smiled and assessed him. Slacker. The girl could do better. I handed her three skirts to try on and herded her toward the dressing room. “He’s not going to class, Stacy. Check him out. This guy will never graduate or work, as long as you will.”

“How did you know my name?” Stacy was wide-eyed and glanced back at eyelash boy, who was deep into the vintage comic books.

“You’ve been in here before. It’s on your credit card.”

“Oh. How do you know so much about Rod?” She held up the print skirt, then grabbed a red blouse to go with it. Definitely getting with the program.

“Gut feeling. He’s reading comics. When’s the last time you saw him reading a textbook?” I had her attention now. “Check things out. Ask someone who’s in those classes he’s supposed to be taking. You’ve got a lot on the ball, don’t sell yourself short.” I smiled and saw Erin wave at me. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Stacy stared at the blouse rack, a thoughtful look on her face.

Erin grabbed me. “I almost forgot to tell you. Rafe left a message before he took off. He’s picking you up at three o’clock to take you to see his new club.”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s a quarter till now. How’s my hair?”

“You could use a quick brush and some lipstick.” Erin headed back to the register, and I followed her.

“Okay, then. Can you handle things alone now?”

“Sure. It’s slowing down. Go. Have fun.” Erin began taking tags off of Stacy’s new skirts. “When’s Mr. Blade coming back?”

I stopped in my tracks. “Uh, not sure. This week sometime. The wedding’s on Sunday. He has to be back before then.”

Erin started punching numbers into the register but paused to glance at me. “You two over now? Since you and Rafe ...”

“I have no idea how things are going to shake out. But keep my love life to yourself. Okay?” I grabbed Erin’s arm. I figure I must have squeezed pretty hard because she suddenly looked alarmed. “Hey, I’m not going to fire you or anything, but just don’t mention Rafe to Jerry if he drops by and I’m not here. I’ve got a delicate situation going.”

Stacy was all ears. “Boyfriend trouble?” She glanced back at Rod who’d dropped a stack of comics on the counter, obviously expecting her to add them to her credit card bill. “I get it.”

“I’ll figure things out.” If the guys don’t kill each other.

“Don’t worry, Glory. I’m not saying a word to anybody.” Erin looked a question at Stacy, and the girl sighed and nodded. “Can’t we give this girl a discount on these comics?”

“Sure. Ten percent.” I smiled at Stacy and headed for the back room. Oh, boy, but I didn’t want to think about Jerry and Rafe meeting face-to-face. Truth though was that I missed Jerry. Just talking to him on the phone had reminded me how I loved his voice, loved the way he could take charge of a situation and you knew, just knew, that everything would be all right.

Yeah, but what if you didn’t like the way he wanted things to go? Oh, hell. I was so mixed up, I didn’t have a clue how I wanted things to go.

I grabbed my purse, quickly fixing my makeup and hair by feel. I spotted those keys on the table. A loaner car. What could it be? A Mercedes like Jerry had tried to give me once? Or maybe a nice Cadillac. Not sporty but reliable. I’d take it.

I unlocked the back door and cautiously stepped outside, looking both ways to make sure there was no danger before I checked the parking lot. My old Suburban was still there. The workers from Mugs and Muffins parked out back, a couple of beat-up economy cars. Diana, the owner, had a sleek Jaguar, and it was in its usual spot. Next to it was a beige—or maybe it was a dirty white—four-door station wagon. It had to be at least fifteen years old, and the back door was scraped and dented. I looked down at the keys in my hand. No way. I hit the remote and sure enough, the lights flashed. Damn Simon Destiny. He’d sent me an ancient beater. Oh, but he was going to pay for this.

My phone rang, and I dug it out of my purse. Maybe Flo had finally gotten my message.

“Hello.”

“Gloriana, I see you’ve found your car.”

“Screw you, Simon. This is—” I stopped in mid harangue. “How do you know where I am?”

“You forget, my dear, that Westwood is a genius where surveillance is concerned. It took a matter of moments for Gregory to plant bugs that give me sight and sound in your alley, your shop and your back room, of course.” Simon laughed as the implications of that sank in.

“You slimy worm!”

“Ah, I see you’re getting it now. I have you exactly where I want you. Unless, of course, you don’t care if I send a certain rather interesting video to Jeremy Blade’s cell phone. I have several to choose from.” Simon waited a beat. “There’s the one where your friend Florence says she can smell sex on you and you admit you’re sleeping with your shifter.”

I closed my eyes, imagining Jerry’s fury and pain.

“Or there’s the more graphic image of you and Rafael kissing against the door. Then you tell him the rocker never had you, but of course he, Rafael, could have you anytime, anywhere.” Simon hummed. “Or perhaps that’s just implied in the body language. I’m sure Blade can figure it out.”

“Shut up, Simon.”

“Now, Gloriana, be nice. I know you want me to cooperate. Unless you no longer care what Blade thinks of you? But surely you care if he comes gunning for your new lover.” Simon tsked. “Ancient vampires like Blade are so predictable. Always wanting to tear out someone’s throat. But how would that work against a man with demon blood?”

Of course Jerry would rip first and ask questions later. Because Rafe had betrayed his trust. And what about me? How would Jerry feel about what I’d done? I had a sick feeling that I was going to find out before this was all over.

“What do you want, Simon?”

“It’s really very simple, Gloriana. Stop making demands. Do exactly what I say, when I say it. I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead.

I stared down at the phone, knowing Simon could probably see my reaction. I looked around, but the cameras were well hidden. Back inside, I tore the back room apart until I finally found a minicam and microphone on top of a dusty shelf. I smashed them to bits with the seat of that broken stool. But there could be more. Didn’t matter. Simon already had what he needed. I sank down on the chair and waited for Rafe. I’d been outmaneuvered. I had no choice now. I was Simon’s bitch.

“My bitch too, Glory. Wondering about that voice in your head? Guess who? It’s Alesa. Alive and well and inside your chubby self. Get ready for some fun ’cause you’re a hell girl now.”

Fifteen

I had a demon inside me. Talking to me. No. Had to be some kind of hallucination. Weird meltdown from all the stress I’d been under. Should I tell Rafe about it? I started to, but he was so excited to show me the club that I didn’t have the heart.

“It’s beautiful, Rafe.” I couldn’t believe the dark, cavelike place he’d shown me before had been transformed into this trendy club. It was still dark, but now it had a sexy vibe. Deep purple walls glowed under special lighting, and those red N-V logos were slashed behind a sleek chrome and black bar and in neon on a black leather-wrapped stage. One end had been cleared of the comfy clutter of tables and chairs and now would be a mosh pit in front of the stage when it wasn’t a dance floor. Cushioned booths lined the walls, and there were even private balconies hugging the edge of a vaulted ceiling.

“It wouldn’t have come together without Nadia.” Rafe grinned, his arm around my shoulders. “When she takes on a project, she brings in her own crew and there’s no stopping her.”

“What happened to the ceiling?” I looked up, impressed by the wooden beams and vintage chandeliers.

“She had them blow it out. There used to be storage up there, but a weak floor. Now we’ve got great acoustics and those balconies. Wait till you hear the sound system.” Rafe nodded toward where technicians were rolling in massive speakers. “Ray’s crew just arrived. They’re already setting up. He’s wasting no time.”

“Obviously. Has he seen you yet?” I doubted it. Rafe wasn’t bruised or bleeding, but then I hadn’t seen Ray either. Was his body out back in the Dumpster? I didn’t want to think about how the two would deal with each other. And what about Simon’s latest threat? I sure hadn’t shared that with Rafe. He’d probably be all for sending Jerry that video. No, I’d just do Simon’s bidding and deal with this hatred that burned like acid in my gut all by myself.

“Not yet. But he’s been here. One of the crew said he left with Nadia.” Rafe shouted to a man who came in carrying a load of glasses. “Hang here for a minute. I’ve got to handle this.”

“Sure.” I just stood there. Ray and Nadia already. No one could accuse Ray of dragging his feet.

“Your fault, clueless. You shoulda had him on that table in the back room when you had the chance. Now the rocker’s moved on. Listen to me next time.”

So I hadn’t imagined this. But did she really think I’d take advice from a demon who’d managed to get stuck inside me? From her attitude, I’d guess if she could move on, she would have. Just my luck. But how could this happen? Richard had doused her with holy water. Prayed. What next? Would she make me do demonic stuff like bite the heads off of chickens or have wild monkey sex with one of the good-looking shifters working on the lighting? Believe me, the urge was there. For sex anyway.