She followed Kell into an alley lined with impeccable rubbish bins, double-parking her bike near a dingy metal door. She cut the engine, tearing off the helmet and swinging her leg over the side.
Kell and Conn followed suit. Conn looked good on a motorcycle ... like a badass from the ancients. His raised eyebrow asked a question she once again couldn’t answer. If his instant scowl provided any indication, he was rapidly tiring of the secrets. Damn vamp should’ve stayed on his own continent.
Kell reached the door first, wiping a hand over the knob. Locks disengaged seconds later.
Moira bit back a smug smile. She was faster.
The door opened inwardly, and the pounding of a new hip-hop song slammed into her. Kell stalked inside.
Conn stopped her, one hand on her arm and the other holding the door open. “Why are we here?”
She doubted he’d believe the Nine met in a nightclub. “Quick meeting with a source. Not important. Why don’t you stay with the bikes?”
He released her. “Sure.” A gentle nudge to her shoulder had her moving forward. He followed, flanking her back.
She’d known he wouldn’t stay outside. Couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have waited in the alley, either. The rush of sweat, smoke, and beer overwhelmed her senses. She peered through the darkness, tracking Kell’s progress across a dance floor filled with gyrating bodies.
The pink outline of a squid vibrated with color high on one wall, sending out pulses in time with the band. With a sigh, she maneuvered around some guy dry-humping a brunette against the wall. Two young men tried to stop her movements on the dance floor, flirtatious grins on their faces that quickly disappeared as they looked behind her. She didn’t need to turn. Heat rolled off the vampire hotter than the crush of bodies. One poor kid paled until she feared he’d pass out.
A firm hand slapped her ass. “Get me out of here before I hurt someone,” Conn growled.
Fire flashed out across her flesh, spiraling higher the constant state of desire she’d been in since he’d arrived. Her temper quickly rose past the desire. Oh, he did not just smack her butt. He was inviting a burning—when she had time.
Throwing elbows, she shoved her way across the dance floor, reaching a dark booth in the rear of the club. Kell sat to one side, keeping his back to the bench and his view open to the crowd. When she arrived, his shoulders relaxed and he faced the interior of the booth.
Moira followed his gaze. “Doctor Pelandrone.”
The doctor smiled, shoving thick spectacles up his nose. Wiry black hair curled around his pudgy face, and a reddish hue danced across his leathery skin. He’d been drinking again. A lot. “Moira. Good to see you. Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately.”
The witch was their chief researcher and a freaking genius with string theory. Unfortunately, he was also half fairy, possibly accounting for his lack of organization—though her money was on the booze. Fairies shouldn’t drink.
“I assume you’ve been busy.” It had always bewildered Moira why he owned half of the crazy nightclub. He kept a close eye on his investment, and they always met there. Or maybe it was the free-flowing gin that kept the doctor in his booth when he left his laboratories.
With a smile, she pivoted, allowing Kell to conduct business while she kept an eye on the mix of humans, witches, and shifters in the crowd. Mostly humans tonight.
Conn leaned against the wall. A universe of contained calm inhabited the space around the vampire, as if even noise didn’t dare bother him.
Though Moira caught the glances—the shy, the daring, the downright flirtatious glances of women around the bar. Aged eighteen to sixty ... they all looked. So far, not one shored up enough bravery to approach him. She couldn’t blame them. Even with the relaxed pose, danger surrounded him, at home with the deadly glint in his eye. Conn was sexy, but frightening.
Her scowl probably didn’t help much. The man was hers. At least in that moment.
Papers shuffled as the doctor slid a file across the Formica. “I did a quick analysis after you called.” He rubbed his dark chin. “The transportation is possible, but untraceable.”
Conn focused on the doctor, his body tightening. “Who are you trying to trace?”
Kell cut him a glare before turning back to the doctor. “Why not?”
The fairy blanched. “You’re talking about hopping dimensions. We can decipher the energy signatures when somebody jumps ... but once they’re out of our dimension, they’re gone. Even if they show right back up, we have no way of knowing where they went.”
Moira sucked in air, fighting a cough at the body odor assaulting her nostrils. Damn dancers. “Is it possible to transport someone against their will?” She already knew the answer. If Conn hadn’t fired his weapon into the abyss, she’d be somewhere else right now.
The doctor shrugged. “I think so. But you’d need to combine string theory and dimensional jumping with some serious power. Concentrated quantum physics. In order to alter the subspace enough to yank someone into a dimensional journey, you’d need some amazing ability and experience.”
“Shit.” Kell leaned back. “Anything else?”
“Ah, yes. I just spoke with your father, Moira.”
“I talked to him yesterday. He’s giving the researchers a hand.” Her father was a general practitioner and expert in, well, every aspect of medicine. He’d studied for centuries and neurology seemed a favorite. “No news yet.”
Conn crossed his arms. “News about what?”
The doctor threw back half a glass of what looked like scotch. His eyes didn’t even water when he refocused. “Virus-27.”
Kell cut his eyes to Conn. “You didn’t think we’d just sit back and await the Realm’s researchers, now did you?”
“No.” Conn’s jaw tightened. “Though I assumed your researchers would want to collaborate with ours.”
Moira kept her face stoic. Collaboration depended upon them remaining allies.
“I see.” Conn’s stoic expression beat hers with pure stubbornness lining his jaw.
“Well then. Let’s go report to the council.” Kell stood. “Keep your focus on the transportation issue, Doctor. We have enough researchers for now.”
The doctor cleared his throat, his gaze darting to Conn and back to Kell. “Well, um, there’s more. Google maps show recent, um, mining in Russia.”
Kell’s shoulders went back. “Did you report to Daire?”
“Yes.”
Conn frowned. “The demons are headquartered in Russia. What are they mining?”
Moira forced a shrug. Hopefully the demons weren’t mining anything. “Diamonds? We keep an eye on all natural minerals, Conn. You know that.” This was a coincidence. No way had someone discovered the witches’ weakness.
The mines in Russia had been destroyed centuries ago. Of course, nothing buried stayed that way forever.
Kell nodded. “Daire is on it then. Thanks, Doctor. I’ll be in touch.” He strode away.
Moira followed her cousin through the bar, more conscious than ever of the daring smiles thrown at her mate. The marking on her hip pounded in time with the beat from the live band—hard, wild, and slightly out of control.
Conn grabbed her arm at the door and lowered his head to brush his lips against her ear. A shiver wandered right down to her toes.
“You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on here, Moira.” He said the words as a statement.
She heard them as a threat.
They felt like an omen.
Chapter 5
Back on the bike, Moira allowed the smooth ride to calm her thoughts. She angled in and out of cars driving too slowly. Saying a quick chant in her head, she restructured the fuel in her tank, sending the bike careening past Kell.