According to my cell phone, I returned to the club at two-thirty in the morning, three hours before sunlight. The hardened regulars had gone home, save for a couple of stragglers sitting at the bar talking to one of the human servers as she cleaned up. I jerked my head toward the door, and the patrons and the wait staff scrambled to their feet and hauled ass. Fiona looked up from her sweeping as I approached and tilted her head almost imperceptibly towards the dance floor.The first thing I noticed was the stench--a cross between a wet dog, pine-scented Lysol, and animal musk. The stink only meant one thing. If Fiona hadn't pointed them out, only a blind idiot would have missed the group of enormous men standing by the dance floor. They looked like pissed off linebackers from hell. They did not look like they
Last Updated : 2020-11-08 Read more