I could tell Prisha was doing the same from the blue sparks that slipped along the dagger she’d pulled free from her pocket. One graze of her blade, if it broke skin, was enough to kill a human. To a supernatural, her magic-infused weapons coated in poison could pack enough of a punch to render even a rogue werewolf unconscious for several hours.

But the werewolf abruptly lost interest in us when a half-naked siren sauntered past him. His nostrils flared and he trailed after her, sniffing the air like she was a bitch in heat.

Before I could blink, the werewolf had hauled her up against a wall outside of the women’s restroom. His huge erection appeared when he unzipped his pants. The siren wrapped her legs around his waist, her back flush against the black painted drywall.

“Two hundred,” she said loudly.

The wolf shoved a handful of bills into her fist just as he plunged his length inside her, his ass flexing when he began thrusting deep like a piston on steroids.

Well, at least he’d paid.

Fake sounds of pleasure came from her, making me think of cheap porn flicks. My insides withered at the thought that this was what women were reduced to in this hideous place.

Prisha and I turned our backs on the latest display, angry energy swirling in my gut.

“Did Jenkins warn you that this bar,” Prisha said, putting air quotes around the word, “was also part brothel?”

“No, funny how he neglected to mention that part.”

The bartender ambled toward us, a brawny man with a large belly and a heavy brow. I guessed he was a glamoured fairy or half-demon. “What do you girls wanna drink?” His thick forehead looked permanently creased, and one of his hands stayed under the counter. I would have bet money that he held a weapon at all times.

“Nothing. We’re just waiting for someone,” I replied.

“Seats aren’t free.”

Prisha whipped out a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and slipped it onto the counter. “Consider this payment for the barstools.”

He grunted and picked up the bill before lumbering away.

Music continued blaring, while supernaturals were either fucking or fighting around us. Tension rolled in my muscles as we repeatedly had to fight horny guys off us while trying not to cause a scene. It was a serious freakin’ migraine of a job.

I continually waited for the next assault while trying to watch the front door. “He better show,” I muttered under my breath.

The DJ shifted to a new song, another throbbing techno beat that half the couples and orgies were fucking in sync with. The front door banged open, and Beaten-up Dude stumbled over the threshold.

My spine snapped upright. “Holy shit. He’s still alive.”

Prisha raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you were feeling guilty for nothing then.”

I tracked Beaten-up Dude’s movements across the floor. Despite his sorry-looking appearance, all activity in the club stopped as the dancers parted like the Red Sea for him.

My sympathy for him quickly gave way to confusion. Dancing couples lurched out of the way. A group of six male supernaturals began whispering. And most females in the bar were suddenly standing on alert, as if the biggest and most coveted male in the jungle had shown up for mating season.

Beaten-up Dude straightened, and the earlier persona of a pummeled dejected soul fell away as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. He crooked a finger, beckoning the female vamp server his way as he strode toward the one empty booth in the Black Underbelly.

A second later, he slid onto the dark leather bench of the booth reserved only for the Fire Wolf.

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Chapter 6

“Whoa, what?” Prisha’s jaw dropped. “He’s the Fire Wolf? But those demon guys were knocking the shit out of him. I thought the Fire Wolf was a badass who nobody messed with.”

“Right? I don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

Eyes wide, I watched the vamp waitress glide toward the hunter. When she reached his booth, she leaned over the table, her cleavage on full display. The Fire Wolf’s gaze dipped, the corner of his mouth curving up.

I winced, wondering if that smile hurt, considering he had numerous cuts, bruises, and other random injuries. But in my next blink, his split lip disappeared. Following that, the swelling around his eye faded away. Then the bruises were gone, and his right hand that had looked broken and mangled became whole.

The potent scent of casting magic hit my senses.

“He’s healed,” Prisha murmured. “And he did it so fast.”

“I thought I was seeing things.”

The Fire Wolf had gone from a sad-looking, beaten-up dude, to a fully healed and fleshed out menace that looked like he could destroy anyone with the flick of his wrist. And it was all done as if he’d simply flipped a self-healing switch.

“So, he is a werewolf?” I whispered to Prisha. “Only wolves and vamps heal that fast, but even for those species, what he managed to do seemed faster than normal. Plus I scented magic, which never happens when wolves and vamps heal.”

She frowned. “I caught that scent too. That’s definitely weird. But alpha wolves heal faster than lesser dominant wolves, which could also explain the spectacle he created when walking in. So maybe he’s an alpha werewolf, and it was somebody else’s magic we scented?”

“Could be.” Most knew not to fuck with alpha wolves, but even so, the reaction he’d created had bordered on extreme, even for an alpha werewolf. And something about his healing . . . something was off. “I think there’s more to it, though.”

Prisha shrugged as the waitress finally stopped showing off her cleavage and set down the Fire Wolf’s drink. Since all he’d had to do was raise a finger to her, she obviously knew what he liked, which meant he frequented this place often.

I glanced around again. The dancing, orgies, fucking, and fighting had resumed. Charming, really. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend their weeknights here? But whatever. I wasn’t judging. It was simply an observation of the Fire Wolf’s character. Someone who chose to spend their time in this environment obviously found it appealing on some level. Good to know. That gave me insight into how to approach him. No fear. Up front and brutal. I could do that. Hell, that was how I was most of the time anyway. It was my sister who was the softer one of us. She always had been.

My breath stopped. Tessa. I squeezed my eyes shut. Where are you?

I gripped the bar top, my fingers digging into it. My twin had been gone for nearly five hours. Five hours. She could be dead. I concentrated on the link that connected us. No, you still feel the bond. She’s not dead. But I had no idea in which direction she was.

Blinking, I took a deep breath and reminded myself of what I needed to do. Focusing on severed witch-twin bonds was not helping. I needed to keep my shit together. Bottom line? I couldn’t fail. Not when Tessa’s life was on the line. I needed to hire the Fire Wolf pronto.

“Let’s go talk to him,” I said to Prisha.

But before we could slip off our stools, the fairy who’d been riding the guy’s dick earlier in the corner booth beat us to it.

She sauntered toward the Fire Wolf, hips swaying, breasts perky and bare. When she reached his side, she dropped to her knees, her tongue darting out.

I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but considering her hand strayed toward his upper thigh and then his zipper, I had a pretty good idea of what she was offering.

My stomach churned as I waited for his response. No way in hell was I going to prostitute myself to the guy if that was what he expected from female clients.