Midnight's Master
are.” He sent the glass sliding along the bar top and down to the waiting hand of a man in a long back overcoat. A guy with fangs, of course.
    The guy winked at her.

    Holly shook her head and turned back to the bartender. “I have to find Niol. Now.”
    Okay, so she did sound like a demanding bitch right then, but, hell, she was scared. Yeah, Niol was strong, but he wasn’t invincible. And if he wound up like Carl and Sam…
    No.
    The bartender’s lips thinned.
    “I can’t get him on his phone. He’s not here.” She leaned over the bar. “I need to see him.”
    His gaze raked her. “Never cared much for reporters.”
    Her nails scraped across the marble. “And I don’t care much for asshole bartenders.”
    Serious understatement considering her history. “So I guess that makes us even. But the guys at the front knew about me. Niol had told them to let me in, and I’m betting he told you that I had the all clear in this place, too.”
    Silence. The band had stopped playing. The crowd wasn’t talking. Holly glanced over her shoulder. Saw a woman with long blond hair and a tight black dress take the stage.
    The succubus. The cop’s girlfriend.
    Holly turned away, hunching her shoulders.
    “I don’t buy the story.” The bartender picked up a shot glass and started cleaning it with a white cloth. “No way Niol falls for a reporter, not with his secrets.”
    “Niol trusts me.”
    “Lady, Niol doesn’t trust anyone. That’s why he’s the badass in town and all the other demons are just his minions.” He glanced up at the stage, almost helplessly, as Cara began to sing, her voice husky, bluesy.
    Wasting time.
    “He’s in danger,” she blurted. “I have to make certain he’s okay.”
    “He’s always in danger. That’s the way the game goes.” Not overly concerned. His gaze drifted back to her. “You think you can save him?”
    “I can try.” Prick. Five more seconds, just five, and she was going over that bar.
    His lips hitched in a half-smile. One that showed a hint of his own fangs.
    Great.
    He crossed to the register. Picked up a pen and scribbled a note on a stray scrap of paper. Then he came back to her, walking slow, taking his sweet-ass time.
    He lifted the paper. “I’m Marc.”
    She was about to start snarling.

    “If Niol wants to fire someone for giving you this, tell him to fire me.” He’d tucked the paper between his thumb and index finger.
    Holly reached for it.
    “Ah-ah.” He pulled back his hand. “Got to warn you about the house rules at this place.”
    Holly considered smacking him.
    “Only go to play…or to be prey.”
    She snatched the note from him. “Heard that warning before.” Niol’s rule for Paradise.
    “Didn’t keep me out of this joint, won’t keep me out of the next place, either.”
    Holly pushed away from the bar, her eyes on the address. Montlith Court. That was a pretty ritzy street.
    Laughter from Marc. “You’re gonna be in for one hell of a night, lady. One hell of a night.”

    The house on Montlith stood, tall and elegant, behind a big stone gate. The home lay nestled between two houses that were each easily bigger than the News Flash Five station.
    She hadn’t been sure what address Marc would give her.
    Holly certainly hadn’t expected Easy Street.
    She parked her car a bit down the road. Then she stalked up to the gate. Guards were stationed there. Uniformed guards with perfectly pressed pants and shirts, gleaming shoes, and wide-brimmed hats.
    They waved a car in as she approached. The gates slid open and Holly thought about trying to sneak in—
    “Freeze!”
    Only to realize that a guy holding a taser had it aimed right at her.
    She froze. “I’m here to meet a friend.” Her head tilted just slightly toward the house.
    She could see it so clearly now, a huge antebellum mansion with white columns, elaborate steps.
    Somebody had too much money.
    The guy with the taser walked forward—and sniffed her.
    “Human.” The whisper was

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