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I took her outstretched hand and shook it politely. Her skin was cool, her grip neither firm nor weak, but somewhere in between. Which-according to the Directorate psycho-babble they occasionally like to lob on us-meant she was a woman confident in herself, and not needing to prove anything. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Please, have a seat." She indicated the comfy-looking chair on the right, then sat down and picked up some papers. "You have excellent references."

"That's because I've worked at some excellent clubs."

"We did check your reference for..." She paused and glanced at the paperwork "... Lulu's. She said you don't do pole work."

I hesitated. "To be honest, I'm just not very good at it."

"The owner did say you were in demand for both lap and private dances."

"I'm a werewolf. It's a rarity in a strip club, and Ms. Vanderberg did play that angle up a little."

Hanna smiled, but her green eyes were neutral. I was getting absolutely nothing from this woman on either a sensory or an emotional level. Nothing except that swirly magic that itched at my skin.

"So tell me, why does a werewolf become an erotic dancer for mainly human clubs?"

I smiled. "Because I'm only half wolf, and because it's a damn good way to make money-as long as you work for the right establishment."

"And you think Meinhardt is one such place?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

She nodded again. "We never employ people without a night's trial. Are you willing to work tonight?"

"Sure."

"Excellent. There are no house fees. We simply work on an eighty-twenty split here-in the dancer's favor-which as you'll know is rather generous. Bar receipts are not included in your take, however."

Which is probably why they could afford the generous split. From the little background included in the file Liander had handed me, the bar-or rather, the overpriced booze-was where a lot of money was made.

"We run a main bar, a showgirl's bar, a sports and billiards bar, and the fantasy rooms," she continued, "and our dancers rotate between all of them except the showgirl's room. Only our most experienced dancers entertain there. We expect two on-stage performances if you're in the main room, and lap dances outside those times."

"Do you have privacy booths or rooms?"

"Certainly. We call them the fantasy rooms. Our patrons seem to prefer the various fantasy settings."

"And security?"

"All rooms are monitored. There's a strict no-touching policy in the main room and the show room. Casual contact is allowed in the sports bar, and in the fantasy rooms the option is yours. There is, however, a strict rule about no sex and no drugs of any kind. Participate in either of those activities on these premises, and you will be marched straight down to the local police station and charged."

"Warning heeded." I hesitated. "What about the dress code?"

"Costumes on stage, G-string for room work. In the fantasy rooms, we allow full nudity if the customer is paying for it."

"Sounds good."

She rose and offered her hand. "Good luck tonight, then."

I rose and clasped her hand. The tingly magic I'd been feeling all the way through the interview rose sharply, crawling across my hand and up my arm like a thousand biting insects. As I resisted the temptation to rip my hand away, the wristband Marg had given me suddenly got hot and the biting sensation abruptly fled.

Hanna released my hand quickly, and just for a moment, surprise and curiosity flitted through her green eyes. Whether that was a good thing or bad remained to be seen. "Matthew will give you the tour and show you where to change."

"Thank you."

The blue-suited man appeared in the doorway. "This way, please, Cecily."

"Call me CC. I prefer not to use my real name at work."

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