Sucker Punch (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #27) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,194

which was the lycanthrope energy, and probably why I had a strange woman in my lap, which was closer to the issues/abilities I’d inherited from Jean-Claude. I’d gone from uncomfortable and almost angry about Phoenix in my lap to, if not enjoying it, at least not disliking it. It so wasn’t me, but to get information from her, maybe a little less me and a little more Jean-Claude wasn’t a bad thing?

I sipped my water and realized that my other hand was curled a little possessively around the woman’s hip. It did keep her steady on my thighs, but I hadn’t realized I’d done it. I needed to eat really soon. I asked Newman to show Phoenix the picture of our person of interest. It’s considered prejudicial to call someone a suspect in front of a possible witness, so everyone is a person of interest or someone we’re hoping can help us with our inquiries or some such politically correct phrasing.

Phoenix’s face clouded over. For a minute she forgot about being the sexy flirt and let us see the steel underneath the silk. “Oh, yes, she was here that night. She and her friends hung out with Giselle all night.”

“Are you sure the woman in the picture was here all night?” Newman asked.

“I’m sure.” Her eyes had darkened to the color of storm clouds. The anger rolled off of her, and suddenly she smelled even more like food.

I caressed my hand down Phoenix’s hip, and she was so angry that she didn’t react. For her job she should have either flirted back or told me I wasn’t allowed to touch her. Instead she sat up straight on my lap as if I was a hard chair instead of a person. Her skin felt hot under my hand, as if she were cooking in her anger. I could feed on that heat, skin to skin.

“How are you so certain?” Newman asked.

“Because that bitch Giselle did a lap dance with her while I was onstage.”

I rubbed my cheek against her bare arm, rolling my face through the warmth of her anger. “That’s not allowed,” I said.

“What do you mean, it’s not allowed?” Newman asked.

I forced myself to raise my face away from her skin and concentrate on Newman as I answered. God, I needed our food to come soon. “Doing a girl-on-girl lap dance would distract the customers from the stage show. It’s like stealing money out of the other dancer’s pocket.”

Phoenix looked at me then, really looked at me, not just as a mark, or as a way to make money, but like I’d said something interesting. “Exactly.”

She managed to roll her hip as if asking for me to pet her hip rather than just rest my hand on it. I rose to the invitation, because I wanted her to keep talking. We might not need much from Giselle by the time she arrived, or we might even learn enough that we could catch her in a lie. We needed to know if Jocelyn’s alibi was good or bust, and we needed to know it now, because Bobby was running out of later.

“Did Giselle give all three of them lap dances while other dancers were onstage?” I asked.

“No, because I complained to management.”

“Barry must like you,” I said.

Phoenix gave me a grin that was part sex and part fun. “Everybody likes me, Beautiful.”

“I’ll bet they do,” I said, and stopped petting her hip, because if I wasn’t going to move my hand and do more, it was just a little too much repetition for me.

I wrapped my arms around her as if I was making sure she didn’t fall off my lap, just to have something to do with my hands. Again, Phoenix could have told me to keep my hands to myself, but she didn’t. She was using me to get the other customers warmed up, which meant she’d let me take liberties that she probably wouldn’t have a male customer or even a female customer whom she wasn’t using to build the illusion of girl-on-girl sex. It’s a fine line to walk, promising sex without giving it. I could never have done it, but Phoenix understood the game, and thanks to the men in my life, I could play for a while.

“So the other lap dances got spaced out through the night?” I said.

Phoenix nodded, settling herself more comfortably in my lap. “Your girl in the photo did her last lap dance onstage with Giselle.”

“What time was that?” Newman