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"Didn't realize my club was so popular with the Order," he drawled. "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended."
Nathan hardly paid Cassian any attention. "Check the arena," he told Rafe.
As the warrior turned to carry out the order, Nathan continued to prowl the club at street level. Cassian was right at his heels. "The fights don't start for hours, warrior."
"We didn't come to watch your blood sport."
"No," Cassian replied, "from the look of you, I'd guess you were here to start some of your own. Wouldn't have anything to do with the hotheaded female from your operation, would it?"
Nathan had his hand clamped around the other male's throat before Cassian could take his next breath. "What do you know about her?"
Some of the proprietor's henchmen, including the cage fighter called Syn and a couple of others, emerged from out of nowhere and started closing in. Still caught tight in Nathan's grasp, Cassian dismissed his thugs with a glance and a subtle twitch of his head.
"He won't kill me," Cassian said. "He would've finished it by now if that were his intent."
Nathan was tempted, but intel was more crucial. "What do you know about Mira?"
By this time, Rafe had come back from downstairs. Nathan noticed his brother-in-arms from the corner of his eye. Skilled and deadly, Rafe had a blade in one hand, his other ready to draw the 9-mm semiauto holstered on his weapons belt.
Nathan didn't let up the pressure on the human's throat. "I asked you a question. If you know where Mira is, you would be wise to tell me now."
Cassian smiled, unafraid. Amused, even. "So many surprises lately where that one is concerned."
"You know something," Nathan pressed, certain he'd found the lead he needed. "Do you know where Bowman is holding her?"
"Holding her?" Cassian's smile stretched wider. "My guess would be he's holding her quite close."
Nathan squeezed, taking uncharacteristically sadistic satisfaction in the man's answering sputter. As Cassian coughed and wheezed, his henchman and fighters advanced another few paces. Rafe moved with effortless speed, placing himself between Nathan and Cassian and the approaching guards.
"Tell me where to find Bowman," Nathan demanded coolly, "or I will kill you. Make no mistake. Your life is only worth the information you give me now. Where is Bowman keeping her?"
The club owner sucked in a restricted breath. "I can't tell you anything about the rebel leader or your MIA comrade. Pity you weren't here last night. You could've asked them yourself."
Nathan's blood went still in his veins. "What are you talking about?"
"They were here," Cassian said. "Both of them. Talking to Rune downstairs at his dressing room."
Son of a bitch.
Nathan slanted a stunned look at Rafe, who took off immediately for the back stairs. Nathan glared back at the man caught tight in his grasp. He let up only enough to permit Cassian to speak. "Was she all right? Did it look like he'd harmed her in any way?"
"Still had her sharp tongue and attitude intact, if that's what you mean."
"You spoke to her?" He didn't like the sense of confusion that roiled through him now. He was accustomed to cool logic, calm calculations. This revelation was the last thing he expected, and despite his keen mind, he struggled to make sense of all he was hearing. "What did she say to you? Did you speak to Bowman too?"
Rafe came up from the floor below, shaking his head. "No sign of Rune down there."
"No," Cassian said, his tone unfazed, conversational. "Rune took the night off."
"Where?" Nathan demanded.
Cassian chuckled, the black stud at the end of his tongue gleaming as he spoke. "Find the daywalker and I reckon you'll find Rune."
Although Nathan was taken aback, it was Rafe who spoke first. "What the fuck? You mean Aric Chase?"
"No," Cassian replied. "The other one. The female. Hot young thing that's been slumming around my club for the past few weeks. Find her, and I guarantee you, Rune won't be far."
They made the long drive to his grandfather's old Darkhaven in northern Maine earlier that afternoon.
