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had thick red hair and freckled skin, big ears that probably flapped in the wind. His eyes were spaced too far apart, but the color was nice, a mixture of green and brown.
    “Mark St. John,” Dallas supplied. “Ecstasy’s owner.”
    I had a few questions for Lover Boy, but knew those would have to wait. A man with a hard-on had trouble concentrating on facts. Besides, interrogations worked best with one suspect at a time.
    I shifted my gaze to Lilla. She wore a flesh-colored halter top and skirt that almost made her appear naked. I reached out and tapped her on the shoulder. “Lilla en Arr?”
    “Yes?” she said, not sparing me a glance.
    “We need to speak with you.”
    Languidly, deliberately, she turned to face me, and our gazes collided again. As if on cue, the music tapered to silence.
    “Mia Snow,” she said, her tone as soft as a caress, each syllable well modulated and punctuated precisely with an almost hypnotic rhythm. “I am so glad you have, at last, joined us. We have been expecting you.”

CHAPTER
3

    W e have been expecting you .
    The words reverberated in my mind amid the unexpected silence.
    We . Not I. Kind of like the words that had whispered through my mind only minutes before. At last you arrive .
    I stared down at Lilla. Her features were as delicate as butterfly wings, incandescent and angelic.
    Pale. Wholly innocent. And somehow the absolute essence of sexuality. On the surface, she was beauty personified. Yet there was an underlying hardness to her gaze, a tightness to her lips that gave her an emotionally untouchable veneer.
    I didn’t have to glance at Dallas to know he was foaming at the mouth for a taste of this woman.
    He was a sucker for ice queens.
    I fought the urge to grab her by the shoulders, slap a pair of laserbands on her wrists, and haul her ass down to A.I.R. headquarters. I had questions, and most likely, she had the answers. However, taking her to the station might have the same results as her former arrests—swept under a nice, tidy little rug—and I wouldn’t risk that. I didn’t want Lilla released, her file once again buried. Maybe even destroyed this time.
    I’d interrogate her here, in front of God and every pervert present if needed.
    “We need to speak with you, Lilla,” I said, my tone as hard as her expression.
    “Then speak,” she replied. Still watching me, she traced a fingertip down the center of her flesh-colored top. She was the very picture of carnal seduction, and I was amazed by just how human she appeared. “I have nothing to hide. No secrets lurking about, waiting to nibble on me.”
    “Let’s go somewhere private.”
    “Whatever you wish to discuss, we will discuss here, with my friends. Or…” Her gaze swept over me. “Perhaps you would like to join us first?”
    “I’m not interested in dying like William Steele,” I said.
    Lilla’s smile lost some of its arrogance, and something dark flickered in the depths of her eyes, turning the violet to deep purple. I almost regretted that I’d punctured some of her casual disregard. After all, I admired strength in a woman. I admired the courage it took to look a hunter in the eyes and casually dismiss him. Or her. Still, I found it interesting that she’d betrayed such a reaction to my words. There were definite emotions here.
    Uncaring of the happenings around him, St. John snaked his arms around Lilla and caressed her bare stomach. Lilla regained her easygoing facade.
    With one wave of her hand, she dismissed the two Taren women. Or cats. Or whatever they were. They hopped down on all fours without protest and slinked to the bar. Lilla whispered something in St. John’s ear. He shook his head, intent on getting his piece of ass. She whispered something else. I couldn’t make out the words, only the fierceness of her tone. This time, he gave an abrupt nod. His expression dark, he pushed to his feet, the action causing Lilla to bounce on the couch. St. John stalked away.
    “Smart