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"Unless you find your soul mate."

I snorted softly. "You and I both know that may never happen. Hell, fate has done a pretty good job of crushing my dreams of a pack of kids. The whole soul mate thing is probably next in line."

"It's still something I worry about. As I said, I don't want to lose you."

"I'm not immortal, Quinn. You're going to lose me sooner or later anyway."

"You, my annoying beautiful redhead, are both werewolf and vampire. The only thing anyone can say with any sort of accuracy about your life span is that it will be longer than a regular werewolf's."

"Oh, God," I said, pretending horror. "Does that mean I have to listen to you nagging about my sex life for half of eternity?"

He smiled, then rose and leaned across the table, kissing me gently. "I'm afraid it does, my girl."

I smiled into his gaze. "Good. Now, I have one other vital question."

"I should have known." He sighed wearily, but the effect was spoiled by the twinkle in his eyes. "Hit me with it, then."

"Have you ever had sex in a flashy red Ferrari?"

His smile dissolved into a look that was all heat, all desire. "No, but I'm willing to give anything a go once."

"That's what I love about you." I kissed him lightly then rose. "Ready to go?"

"With you, dear werewolf, always."

I grinned, caught his hand, and led him outside.

Okay, so sex in a Ferrari wasn't exactly comfortable, but man, uncomfortable could still be so much fun if you were with the right person. I was still grinning in delight as I headed over to the house of the woman who was going to teach me some of the finer techniques of being a club dancer.

Which turned out to be a whole lot of fun, too. The woman Ben had recommended was a towering amazon with honey-colored skin and amazingly large breasts. And she sure could move her booty.

Over the next few hours she taught me that dancing naked well was harder than it seemed, but by the end she'd declared I'd pass general muster and get employed at any of the upmarket clubs.

Meaning, I gather, than the down-market ones employed anyone with breasts.

I thanked her and handed her a hundred for her time, after which she'd declared I was welcome back anytime for lessons.

Once back in the car, I rang Jack. "Hey boss, just had my dancing lesson, so I'm ready to go undercover if you need me to."

"We will need it," he said grimly. "Kade reckons there's something going on behind the scenes at the club. There's several areas that are overly protected by guards, who get rather nasty if the uninvited go near them."

"I gather he tried."

"Yeah. Got thrown out for his trouble. So you'll have to go in."

"There's one problem. If the woman who was chasing Joe either owns or works at this joint, she might well recognize me." I didn't think she'd gotten a good look at my human form-it had been pitch black in that warehouse, after all-but she was a sorcerer and a shapeshifter, and I had no idea how good a crow's sight was at night. We couldn't afford to take the risk.

"Which is why Liander's waiting for you at home. He's going to adjust your look."

I groaned. "Boss, I really do like my 'look' as it is."

"Too bad. After he's finished, get down to the club. As of yesterday, they're two strippers down. They advertised today for workers. You've got a six o'clock appointment."

I glanced at my watch. It was nearing three now, so we were cutting things close. "Isn't it a little odd to be going in for an interview? I thought you just showed up, flaunted your stuff, and you were hired." Or not.

"This place advertises themselves as a 'classy' men's club. They don't just have strippers, although that is their main business. Word is that any woman caught shooting up or prostituting herself on the premises is escorted straight to a police station."

Meaning they couldn't do it while on duty, but could go home with clients? Because it seemed likely that all our vamp victims had met lovers there. "The cops wouldn't charge them, not on secondhand evidence."

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