Page 66 of Direct Action

Poppy glided away, which, considering the height of her heels, was impressive. I didn’t glide anywhere in mine—I looked more like a baby fawn trying to find her legs. Okay, maybe that was pushing it—I could walk, dance, and serve drinks, but I was way less graceful than Poppy and the other servers.

I served my drinks and had nary a second before the lights dimmed, the drumbeat dropped, an electric guitar joined in, then Pat Benatar’s iconic voice stole the show, singing about love being a tidal wave.

All thoughts of the missing girls, my dad, my money troubles, Ryan and his wide-ranging moods and personalities flew out of my head as the beat took over.

That was, until thirty seconds into the song the lyrics penetrated.

My heel caught on something. I stumbled, but before I could go down, an arm wrapped around my waist and I was suddenly immobile.

Lips hit my ear. “Careful, beautiful.”

I knew that voice.

Sterling Blackwell.

Holy shit on a ship.

He immediately released me and stepped back.

I spun around, mumbled my thanks, but didn’t move.

I’d been wrong. Sterling wasn’t an apex predator. He was something far, far worse. And right then in the dim light, with the strobe lights bouncing around and Pat Benatar singing what I’d decided was Ryan Strong’s theme song, Sterling was staring at me like I was his next meal.

Maybe he, too, was in his vampire era, because if I was reading his leer, he looked like he wanted to sink his teeth into my flesh and suck the life out of me.

It was not super hot like Poppy claimed it to be. It was creepy as hell. Things took a turn for the worse when his eyes dipped, and I knew from his height and his proximity he had a clear line of sight down my shirt. When they lifted, I found myself on the receiving end of the smarmiest, skeeviest leer I’d ever seen.

Gross.

By the time Sterling stepped away, the song was almost over. Yes, he’d stood in front of me for a long time. Me frozen, not knowing what to do, him staring at me like I was a meal.

When he stepped back, I was barely able to contain my shock at seeing Beckett at his side but slightly behind him.

At least I hope I covered my surprise.

Sterling moved to the empty six top in my station. Beckett followed. I danced.

As soon as the song ended, I went in search of Poppy to warn her.

Partly because she needed to know so she didn’t get caught off guard like I had and partly because even though she’d denied it, I didn’t miss the way she was looking at him. However, I’d stopped pushing her when she brought up Ryan.

I knew the only reason why she hadn’t threatened bodily harm if I didn’t give her the details was because we weren’t alone. Further, I knew without a shadow of a doubt the inquisition was coming, and when Poppy wanted details, she was worse than a dog in search of a juicy steak. And there was pretty much nothing juicer than Ryan.

I found her at the bar smiling at Tomas, a good-looking bartender with an easy smile that I knew earned him outrageous tips from the female patrons.

When I stopped next to Poppy, her smile transferred to me, and that was when for the second time in two minutes, I hoped I’d covered my reaction. I’d been catching glimpses of it all night. Her fake smile only turning real when she told me about her vampire books. The rest of them had been bogus, and now her eyes were full of sadness.

I wanted to pull her in for a tight hug.

I couldn’t do that without someone noticing, and that would be weird, me hugging Poppy for no reason.

This was a bad idea.

I sucked at this spy stuff, and Poppy looked like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment.

I tipped my head to the side, giving a ‘pull it together’ look.

“Tomas was telling me he talked to Pamela when she came in,” Poppy told me.