Lilla settled on the edge of the honey oak desk. No papers were on top, I noticed.

“Would you like the door open or closed?” she asked. The seductress was gone, and in her place was a polite but formal hostess.

“Closed,” I answered.

“Excellent choice.” She pushed a small button on a remote control, and the door snapped shut, cutting off all traces of music. “We are more intimate this way.”

I refused to have my back to the door, so I claimed the high-backed swivel chair behind the desk. Dallas stayed beside the entrance, just in case someone tried to enter—or Lilla tried to leave.

“Well,” Lilla said with a little laugh. She hopped off the desk and eased into one of the seats facing me. She folded one leg over the other, the action slow and sensual. “You certainly have my full attention now.”

I placed a voice recorder on the desk’s surface and pushed record. Then I waited, allowing silence to stretch around us like long fingers of ice. I wanted Lilla to wonder, even stress, about what I had to say. An old trick I’d learned my first year of duty.

“I am patient,” she said with a knowing smile. “I can wait as long as you can.”

Fine. “Did you murder William Steele?” I asked, my voice steady and clear.

Her eyes widened, and I knew she hadn’t expected me to be so direct. “Wh—what?”

“William Steele was found in an abandoned field, stripped and dead. We’re here to give you a chance to clear your name,” I lied. I truly doubted she could clear her name; she was involved somehow, some way, I just didn’t know the specifics. But I would. “So I’m going to ask one more time. Did you murder William Steele?”

“No. No, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “I did not kill William.”

“You’re going to have to prove that by giving me a detailed list of your whereabouts today.”

“I would never hurt him,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Ever.”

I arched a brow. “Ever?”

“That is right.”

I glanced to Dallas. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it Lilla en Arr who beat the shit out of William Steele six weeks ago?”

“That’d be correct,” he answered.

Lilla’s already pale skin grew more pallid. “I do not have to respond to that. Nor do I have to answer any more of your questions.” She held out the remote, intending to open the door. I grabbed it and slammed it onto the desk.

“Let me break it down for you,” I said. “Other-worlders are allowed to live and work among humans as long as all of our laws are obeyed. The moment a law is broken, aliens lose all rights. My job is to enforce and punish. The fact that I even suspect your involvement in a human murder grants me the authority to kill you. You’re alive now only because I allow you to live.”

Silence.

Silence so thick it cast an oppressive fog throughout the room.

“I didn’t hurt him,” Lilla finally whispered, each syllable ragged and broken, giving her tone an underlying pain, a deep hurt that was totally at odds with everything I’d concluded about her. She gazed down at her hands, and locks of white hair fell forward, shielding her face. “I loved him.”

Yeah, she’d loved him so much she hadn’t looked for him or helped the police find him before he died. But I had to give two thumbs up for her performance. She deserved an Academy Award for best actress during a hunter interrogation.

“I still need that list,” I said.

“I did not murder him.”

“Where were you this afternoon?” I insisted.

“At the club.” She sighed. “I was here at the club.”

“You were here all evening? You never left? Always had someone around you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need names of the people you were with and the times that you were with them. And Lilla?” I added, blinking over at her. “I will verify this.”

“Then you will find I have spoken the truth.” Without glancing my way, she clicked off the names and times I wanted.

“I did love him,” she said, almost absently. “He simply would not listen to my warnings. I tried to force him to my will that night, but he refused to heed me. I used physical force, yes, but I did not mean to hurt him.”

“What were you trying to force him to do?” Give people enough rope and they’ll hang themselves.

She eased up, her hands wringing together. “I tried to make him leave. He thought he could handle them. He thought, as all humans do,” she added bitterly, “that nothing bad could happen to him.”

“Them?” I demanded. “Who is them?”

Her mouth fell open, as if she couldn’t believe she’d given so much away. She didn’t answer.

“Who is them?” I insisted.

“That is none of your concern.” She arched her brows. “And you, I think, will not ask me such a question again. I won’t hurt you; that would anger my brother. But there are other things I can do—”

“Your brother? Why would he care?”

“No more questions.”

Phantom hands shoved their way into my mind, grasping, reaching. I went on instant alert, using all of my strength to erect a mental block. “Mind control is a crime,” I ground out. A sharp ache pounded in my temples, growing deeper and more intense with every second that passed, and I wasn’t sure if the pain stemmed from her attempt at mind control or my attempt to block her powers.

When I thought I might cry out from the strain, she whipped around, and the dynamism of her gaze was broken. All of a sudden my pain ceased, and dizziness overtook me. Unable to focus, I dropped my head into my waiting hands.

The air began to spark with electricity, and the intensity only increased.

“Dallas,” I said, forcing myself to glance at him.

He ignored me. He was focused completely on Lilla…and he was opening the goddamn door for her.

“Dallas!”

Still no response.

I had the sense of mind to grab my voice recorder before lunging to my feet. My knees buckled. By the time I regained my balance, Lilla was gone. I raced around the desk, saw that Dallas was slumped against the wall, eyes closed. I flew into the hallway, but only emptiness greeted me. Damn, damn, damn.

I stomped my foot, and the weight of my boot caused a heavy thud. Inside the office, I slapped Dallas across the face, hard, putting all my strength behind the blow. “Damn it, why did you let her go?”

“I—I don’t know.” His expression bemused, he shook his head, blinked his eyes.

“Why?” I demanded.

“I felt like I had to open the door for her, or I’d die.” A moment later, his eyes darkened with anger. He rubbed three fingers over his reddened cheek. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

“I think the better question is, why didn’t I slap you twice?”

He left that alone, because he knew I was angry enough to follow through. “Do you know where she went?”

“She’s smart, and she knows we’ll find her here. My guess is she’s run to another location—or to someone,” I added as an afterthought. Then I swore under my breath. “I can’t believe we let her get away.”

“Look at it this way,” he offered. “Now the true fun begins. We’re going hunting.”

CHAPTER 4

Side by side, Dallas and I pounded down the steps, taking them three at a time. Still dizzy from Lilla’s mind control, Dallas wasn’t as agile as he normally was. He stumbled once and had to grip the banister to keep from tumbling face first.

A group of men, obviously hired muscle, waited for us at the bottom. They were human, which meant we couldn’t kill them without a shitload of consequences. Too bad, too. A little killing might have worked off some of my tension.

We ground to a halt in the middle of the staircase. We either had to arrest them or fight them, and I didn’t have time to take them to A.I.R. headquarters. What’s more, anyone who attempted to hinder an alien investigation deserved an ass kicking.

I counted five idiots, all grinning because I probably looked like I’d never been dirty, never perspired, and never said a naughty word in my life, and Dallas was only one man. What harm could these two do? they were thinking.

A slow grin played at my lips. I’d spent my childhood in one fight or another, trying to prove to my dad that I was strong, capable, and fearless, just like my brothers had been. Living in the Southern District, the poor side of town, I hadn’t been able to fight like a cop or a sweet little lady. No, I’d learned to fight dirty. And mean.

Maybe if my mom hadn’t run off when I was a kid, she could have instilled some feminine qualities in me. But she had, and I wasn’t a “lady.” A tide of anticipation was already rushing through me at the thought of putting these men in their places—at my feet.

“You ready for this?” I asked Dallas. I knew how to inflict damage, yes, but I couldn’t do this alone.

“Absolutely.” He sounded completely sure of his ability.

“This is going to be fun,” one of the idiots said.

The speaker was a handsome man, probably only twenty years old, and he had a hard-on the size of a police baton. Impressive, but it wasn’t going to save him from a beating. He wore a come-and-lick-me smile, and I noticed he had a mouth of straight white teeth. Too bad he was about to lose some of them.

To the beat of the music rocking in the next room, Dallas and I darted into action. The moment I neared them, I kicked out one leg and struck one of the men in the balls with the heel of my foot, all without missing a step. He screamed in pain. The starting bell, you could say, because the fight had just begun.

Another man came at me, and I let my fist fly forward. Bone crunched against cartilage. Blood squirted from his nose. Never pausing for breath, I elbowed two throats, broke one man’s kneecap, kneed a couple groins, and jabbed a pair of eyes before slamming a guy’s head into the wall. One of the men recovered sufficiently to grab me by my jacket lapels. I brought my arms up hard and fast inside his grip and quickly ground my palm into his trachea. Eyes wide with horror, he struggled to scream, the sound broken. He released me as if I were radioactive waste and clutched at his throat, unable to breathe.

He’d probably die, and I’d be written up. Oh, well. “You shouldn’t have come back for seconds, dumbass.”

Beside me, Dallas fought like a champion boxer. He punched, ducked, then punched again, intermittently landing solid blows. Finally all five men lay unconscious at our feet. Blood pooled from some of the bodies, a crimson river of pain. A tooth lay next to the far wall—it probably belonged to the guy who’d thought this would be fun. Ha!

I had endured several fists to my stomach and now had a cut lip, and a bruised thigh. One of the men had actually pulled my hair and scratched my cheek, like a sissy girl who hadn’t gotten her way. What a pussy.

I ignored the fact that I was doubled over and panting like a sissy myself. “You okay?” I asked Dallas.

“My side and face hurt like hell, but other than that, I’m fine.” He gently fingered his swollen, blackening eye. “You?”

“About the same.” I took a moment to catch my breath, dragging each intake into my lungs as if I was on life support. Smoke had seeped inside this little alcove, so the air wasn’t fresh and left an ashy taste in my throat.

“If we go through there,” Dallas said, pointing to the double doors that led into the club, “another fight will break out, and I’m not sure my body can go another round right now.”

“Big baby,” I said. I wasn’t going to admit that I felt the same way. My bones throbbed, and my muscles burned. “There’s a window on the north wall. If it opens, we might be able to get outside without drawing any attention to ourselves.”

“That’s worth a try,” he said.

We limped to the window in question and paused. Our curses mingled together in a long, heated sputter as we surveyed the potential exit. The thick stained glass was welded to a copper frame, which was welded to the wall. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the wall was welded to a steel support beam.

Dallas shifted his attention left, then right. Not a single piece of furniture, not a single decoration, occupied the hallway. Muttering more curses under his breath, he removed his left shoe. “If this doesn’t work,” he told me, “we have to go through the club. Start praying.”

“I gave up prayer a long time ago.”

“Do it anyway.” He placed the boot over his fist and hit the glass, dead center, using all his strength. Nothing. He punched and punched and punched. Finally, thankfully, the glass gave way and shattered. The sound blended with the booming music like wind chimes on a blustery day. I’m sure we tripped some sort of alarm.

I removed my jacket and threw it over the jagged threshold. Dallas gave me a hand up. He came through behind me, tossed me my jacket, and we were on our way. I welcomed the cold, fresh breeze as darkness and snowflakes swirled all around us.

“I hear footsteps,” Dallas said, grabbing my hand. “Move faster.”

Together, we dashed to his car.

Two hours later, we were no closer to finding Lilla than we had been when we first left the club. We now had her voice on tape, but wherever she was, she wasn’t talking, so we couldn’t pinpoint her location. We’d tracked down and spoken with several people she’d listed as contacts, but had no luck with any of them.

“This sucks ass,” Dallas said.