Page 29 of Mortal Heart

She shivered slightly, but not from cold. They might have to revisit this role-play later in private. The thought sent another wave of desire through her. She didn’t fight it. A vampire’s acute sense of smell would note her level of arousal, or lack thereof. They’d have a better chance of getting to Farrell if she not only acted but smelled the part of horny master—or so she hoped.

As they neared the purple carpet at Nyx’s front doors, the Harley’s deep rumble attracted the attention of the hundred or so people standing in line, hoping to gain admittance. Their arrival was the exact opposite of stealth. But if Ronan was right about Farrell’s apparent preference to meet a challenge head-on, their mission had more potential for success if they made an entrance rather than if they’d tried to sneak in unnoticed.

“You had better be right about this,” she warned Ronan in their helmets.

She’d forgotten to use her stern voice, but he didn’t forget his role of submissive. “I am right, Mistress,” he said, stopping the Harley in front of the purple velvet carpet. “I wouldn’t dare fail you.”

“Then let’s do this.” She slapped his thigh hard enough for the sound to be audible over the bike’s rumble. “Hurry up.”

He shut off the Harley’s engine and held Arkady’s hand to steady her as she climbed off the back. Then he lowered the kickstand, got off the bike, and knelt in front of her.

She took off her helmet, unzipped her newly cleaned and conditioned leather jacket, and shook out her chin-length black hair. The wig was part of her handy-dandy PI disguise kit. The lace bodysuit, red satin bra, and fishnet stockings she’d chosen from her lingerie drawer, and the black short-shorts and tall boots were club clothes she hadn’t had a chance to wear in much too long. She was pleased to note they still fit just fine.

As for Ronan’s studded leather vest, pants, and matching collar, he’d produced them from one of his bike’s saddlebags, along with a leash. She hadn’t seen them during her search for a shirt to wear in the Pelican parking lot, but then again, she hadn’t dug all the way to the bottom of both bags.

“Dare I ask why you carry fetish gear with you wherever you go?” she’d asked when he returned from the garage looking like just about any domme’s wettest dream.

His grin nearly undid her. “We both know sometimes it’s better to have doors opened to us than have to kick them down, Miss Woodall. And what is more irresistible and seemingly nonthreatening than a man wearing a collar and leash?”

In the vest, collar, and pants, he was indeed irresistible…but she’d never mistake him for nonthreatening. Then again, she reflected as he knelt on the hard pavement in front of her, not everyone had her training. And arousal could cloud even the most suspicious person’s mind. They were certainly hoping it would tonight, at least long enough to get to Henry Farrell.

The entire crowd in front of the club had gone silent, so Arkady’s voice carried when she snapped, “Take off your helmet.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Ronan’s voice was muffled inside the helmet. He took it off and set it on the seat of his bike.

She slapped him across the face with her bare hand. “Did I tell you to put it down?”

He picked up his helmet and hung his head. “No, Mistress.”

A few people in the line tittered. Arkady ignored them. “You take care of me first.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Without meeting her eyes, he took her helmet, set it on the seat, and waited.

“Put yours in the gutter,” she ordered him.

“Yes, Mistress.” He obeyed, his gaze fixed on her boots. “What may I do for you now, Mistress?”

“Hey, Mistress, how do I get one of those?” a blonde woman called. “Is he available for rent?” Several people in the crowd laughed. Many seemed intrigued by their performance. And Arkady would be lying if she claimed having Ronan kneeling at her feet wasn’t as much of a turn-on as the prospect of finding, interrogating, and staking Henry Farrell.

“You may look at me.” She raised Ronan’s chin with her fingertip and tapped her flogger lightly against her leg. “What should I tell her? Should I rent you out?”

When their gazes met, only she could see that his glacier blue eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. “If Mistress wishes,” he murmured, his voice and expression meek. “I will do anything she commands.”

She coiled his leash around her wrist and leaned down until her lips were millimeters from his. “Yes, you will.” She kissed him, then sucked on his bottom lip until she was sure she’d left a mark on his skin. As she freed his lip from her mouth, someone in the crowd groaned and cursed under their breath.

“Leave the lipstick on your face,” she told him. “Now get up. You’ll be wanted downstairs.” Her words sent a murmur through the crowd. Going into Nyx was one thing; venturing into its basement levels was quite another.

Ronan followed her obediently up the purple carpeted steps to the club’s front doors. One of the club’s two enormous doormen met them at the top of the stairs. His name was Ivan, as she recalled. Like most of the humans, dhampirs, and vamps who worked at Nyx, he belonged to Court member David Noble. She saw nothing that indicated Ivan recognized her, which was just as well. It wasn’thisinterest she wanted to pique, but that of his boss.

They’d raised enough of a fuss by now that surely someone had directed Farrell’s attention to the goings-on out front. She looked up at the camera and stared at its red light to give her quarry a good, long, unobstructed look at her face.

“Ma’am,” Ivan began.

She rested the handle of her flogger on his sternum. “Mistress,” she corrected. “No one touches that Harley while we’re inside.” In case he hadn’t already noticed the amulet dangling from the bike’s right grip, she added, “And by that I mean no onewantsto touch it.”

When Ivan’s eyes darted to the left, she knew someone was speaking to him in his earpiece. Whatever they said, it was brief—and not at all what he’d expected to hear, judging by the way his eyebrows raised slightly.

“You are expected, Mistress,” he said with a bow. “You and your…companion may enter. Your personal host will accompany you downstairs.”

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