was essentially Herne’s distant cousin. Lord of the Wolves, Kipa was a wild child from Finland. He and Herne had a rocky history, but Raven was keeping him on the narrow, if not the straight, road. Swarthy with olive undertones, Kipa had long hair braided back into numerous plaits, and his beard was well trimmed but thick. He had a row of piercings in each ear, and a dolphin bite piercing on his lip.
Wager Chance, I had never met. His hair and eyes matched mine—ink black, and green as the forest, but he was tanned as though he had spent long days on the beach, and he was about average height and size. He held out his hand.
“Hello,” he said. “Raven’s told me a lot about you.”
“Everybody take a seat. Herne and Yutani will be here soon enough.” I had no sooner turned back to close the door behind them when I saw the pair walking up the sidewalk. “Speak of the devil…”
“Dinner’s ready, everyone get your butts to the table,” Angel called out.
Once we were all seated around the table with dinner, and Raj was looking for Mr. Rumblebutt in vain—Mr. Rumblebutt was far less impressed with the gargoyle than Raj was with Mr. Rumblebutt—I cleared my throat and set down my fork.
“Here’s the situation.” With Herne and Yutani’s help, I told Raven, Kipa, and Wager about the serial killer, the fact that the mayor had asked us to look into the matter, and what we had learned about Fire & Fang.
“So really, that’s the only lead we have right now. We thought we’d go down there tomorrow night. The Spooks meet on Saturdays, and Raven’s the only one of us who could possibly gain a seat in their meeting.” I forked up a mouthful of noodles and sauce. Even with store-bought sauce, Angel’s spaghetti tasted homemade.
“I suppose that I can’t go along, either,” Kipa said, scowling. “I don’t like the idea of Raven going down there without me.”
“I’ve gone down to the Catacombs on my own before. You’ll just have to stay at home and wait,” Raven said, bopping him on the nose.
“I’ve heard of Fire & Fang,” Wager said. “Yutani’s right. It’s not a club for the faint of heart. Seriously, we’re talking underground club, as in, a lot of questionable activities. I had a client whose husband frequented the club, and she was looking to get away before he either dragged her down there with him to sell her off, or he decided he was bored with her and killed her to avoid paying alimony. I managed to help her get away with half their assets, but she had to leave the country and go into hiding. Luckily, he was a professor at the Hexable School of Magic and he knew what would happen if I broke all the sordid details open for the board of directors to find out. He would have been out on his ass.”
Wager sopped up some sauce with a chunk of French bread. “But listen, if you go down into that club, don’t drink anything. Don’t eat anything. Pay for a drink and play with it, but when you get the chance, dump it out. Don’t go to the bathroom alone, either. Women go into that club and they don’t come out. Raven can get away with going in solo because she’s got an excuse—she’s a necromancer. But Ember, you just don’t give off the dominatrix vibe.”
I caught my breath, then said, “What about if I let my Leannan Sidhe side out more? She’s far from tame.”
“Too risky,” Herne said. “You can’t always control the energy.” He gave me a long look, though.
“The best bet is for me to take her in as my woman, and to say I’m looking to—” Yutani paused, glancing at Herne. “Pardon me, and you too, Ember, but the best bet is for me to say I want to watch other guys have a go at her.” His expression remained impassive.
I gulped. Even the thought of that made me queasy. “I don’t think I like that.”
“That’s partially the attraction for the men there. But I can conveniently decide no one there meets my fantasies. The fact that you’ll be marked as mine should keep you safe. There’s a strong hands-off policy when it comes to a top and his subs, unless permission is granted. If you go in there without being claimed by someone, I guarantee you somebody’s going to try something and when you fight