The Better Part of Darkness

“Zara, maybe. She’s head concierge here. Probably knows how to get whatever a client wants.”

I caught sight of Hank coming out of the water. He motioned to me. I turned to Aaron and stood. Showtime. “Thanks for the info.” He bent forward and went to stand, but I raised my hand. “No! You’re fine. Really. Please, don’t get up.” Please, don’t get up.

He eased back down, grinning. “Say hello to your sister for me.”

I shot him an eye roll and then hurried toward Hank. Whatever. I wasn’t a love messenger for my sister, and I sure as hell wouldn’t tell her Aaron said hi. She didn’t need someone like him in her life. He was a player even if he did deny it.

I made my way to my partner’s glistening wet body and equally wet see-through sarong. Great. A woman needed blinders if she wanted to function like a normal human being in this place.

“Anything?” I asked, trying to be all business and not look where I shouldn’t.

“Zara.”

“That’s what I got, too.”

Together we went farther into The Bath House, our bare footsteps silent on the warm tiles. We passed room after room filled with luxury and decadence. Massage rooms, small baths, lounging areas, and banquettes. The scents of massage oils and food hung heavy in the air, and the distinct sounds of pleasure kept my face burning. Reluctant, yet curious at the same time, I scanned the rooms for suspicious activity, but all I saw were males and females flirting, talking, making out, and doing other things that I let my gaze skip over.

“There she is,” Hank said as we came upon another counter hidden among palms, plants, and statues.

A siren looked up from a computer monitor. When she saw us, her face turned red. Good. At least I wasn’t the only one now. “Hank.” Her deeply sensual voice quivered slightly. In a nervous gesture, she swept her straight strawberry blonde hair behind one ear. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

Immediately, Hank covered his discomfort with a stern set to his jaw. Oh, perfect. This was his crush?

He cleared his throat. “My friend and I were looking for something a little more fun than the usual. You have any ideas?”

Zara stared at Hank like he’d just stolen her tricycle, and then the look was gone, replaced by a jaded hardness only another female could detect, the disappointment on her flawless face as clear as day. This was like watching the National Geographic Channel. The first blundering meeting of siren mates.

“We don’t offer anything other than what’s on the services list,” she said tightly.

He leaned forward with a cheesy, condescending smirk. “We all know that’s not true, so—”

I smacked Hank’s bare arm and nudged him over with my hip. “Zara.” I had to step in before Hank made a complete fool of himself. Couldn’t he see she liked him, too? “We’re ITF. And we need you to help us out before we have to close up shop and get the entire department down here with a search warrant.”

Shock widened her eyes. Her gaze darted from me to Hank, who stared at me, mouth hung open.

I shrugged. “What?”

“You’re ITF?” She wasn’t looking at me, but Hank.

“Way to go, Madigan,” he grumbled before turning to her and admitting to the truth of my words.

“You can thank me later,” I quipped under my breath, stepping closer to the counter. “Zara, we need your help. Specifically, we need to know if any new drug has passed through here, who brought it, and from where. We also have to get into Veritas.”

Her perfect skin turned a shade paler. “I’d lose my job if I let anyone into Veritas.”

“You’ll probably lose it if you don’t cooperate, we’re forced to close this place down, and your boss loses thousands in revenue.”

Hank scrubbed his hands down his face. “No one will know you let us in. We’ll keep it confidential. Lie if we have to.” He bumped me. “Right, Charlie?”

“Absolutely.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then stood suddenly. With a grim set to her jaw, she flipped her long hair behind squared shoulders and turned off the computer monitor. “I never liked Veritas anyway. Follow me.”

The statuesque siren was only a few inches shy of six feet, way taller than I would’ve guessed. That annoyed me. Then I became annoyed at my annoyance. Why did I care how tall she was, or that she had the backside of a warrior goddess, or that her hair was gorgeous? I bet she ironed it. I bet it wasn’t naturally that glossy and straight.

I shook away the mental pettiness and tried to focus on the job at hand. Zara had nothing to do with me or the investigation. So far she seemed cooperative and smart. Not a bad choice in mates. Jealousy was something I rarely experienced and it wasn’t something I intended to feel for Hank’s future romance.

Zara led us to the rear of The Bath House and then up a flight of winding stairs hidden by vines and palms. The air became wetter and thicker as we ascended, making the scent of greenery stronger and my bare feet stick to the hardwood stairs with each step. The palms rustled and wings flapped as the birds sought heavier cover as we approached the landing.

Once there, Zara entered a key code to open a dark wooden door. I knew the minute the air hissed out that trouble had finally found us.

“To get out you hit the same code. One. Five. Seven. Seven.”

I nodded my thanks while recording the code into memory, then made nice and stepped into the dimly lit hallway, allowing them a moment alone.

Immediately, I was hit with the shock of air-conditioned air. Goose bumps sprouted on my bare arms and thighs. Wishing Hank would hurry, I rubbed the bumps and scanned the hall. Dark hardwood floors. Nice Oriental runner. Wrought iron sconces, which provided light on both sides of the hallway.

More than anything I wished I had my firearms. We trained twice a week in hand-to-hand combat to condition our physical strength, learn new moves, and constantly remind ourselves that sometimes we’d have to rely on brute force, but God I felt vulnerable without them.

This was just nosing around, though. It wasn’t like we were there to arrest anyone.

After a brief conversation, Hank joined me, letting the door close quietly behind us. The hair on the back of my neck stood as we progressed in barefoot silence down the elegant hallway, passing an antique gilded mirror hung over a hall table, oil paintings of fowl and hunting dogs, and tall Asian vases. The feeling of premonition was so great in me that I had to force myself to walk forward. My vision wavered a few times, making me blink hard and shake the cobwebs away.

“Zara said the club is not in session tonight,” Hank told me in a low voice. “Most members only come on meeting nights.”

“Most. Means we need to stay alert. Play innocent if anyone finds us. Say we found the staircase and were just pressing numbers and the door opened.” The strength in my legs continued to weaken. A small tremble began in my hands. I shook them, annoyed by the sudden onslaught.

“Sounds good to me. What’s wrong with your hand?”

“Nothing.” I opened and closed my fists. “Just pins and needles.” I was so cold.

We inched down the hallway, checking each door. The rooms held leather couches and chairs. A cigar room. Billiards. A small bath. A few bedrooms. Finally, we heard voices coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hall.

I lifted my hand to stop Hank, tiptoed to the door, and then pressed my ear to the cold, smooth wood. My legs were so weak now, I had to kneel down. Hank didn’t listen. I felt his presence above me and looked up to see him lean over me and put his ear on the door. I gave him a sharp look, but he wasn’t paying attention. If I turned my head, my nose would be inches from his crotch.

I jabbed him in the thigh, and he glanced down at me with an irritated expression. Move over, I mouthed, jerking my thumb to the left. His eyes lit with laughter as he realized my position—on my knees in front of his sarong-encased manhood. I wasn’t laughing. He mouthed back, Sorry.

Voices came from beyond the door.

“It’s all over the news.”

“Why contain it? I say we use it to our advantage. It’s perfect timing.”