She rose, too, his harsh words ringing in her ears. “That’s it? You’re leaving?”
“You have everything you need.” He slid the helmet over his Mohawk. “And I have family of my own to protect.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fi was about to do one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, but it might be the only thing that kept her from losing Doc forever. And time was her enemy. If she didn’t do this now, while Doc was still at Chrysabelle’s, she might never have the chance again. Despite what she’d said, she loved Doc desperately. The thought of being without him made her sick. She was not about to let him go without a fight.
Which was exactly what she intended to start.
She floated outside the windows of Doc’s penthouse, hidden by the night as she peeked in to see if Heaven was home. Fi found her in the master bedroom, sitting on a long padded bench at the end of the bed, buckling on a pair of expensive stilettos. Her hair and makeup were flawless and her dress was on point. No question about it—Heaven was going out. Perfect, because for what Fi was about to do, she needed an audience.
With the mayor’s curfew in place, there could be only one hot spot Heaven would be hitting. The one downstairs. Bar Nine.
Trying to get into Bar Nine through the front door was pointless. The bouncers would never let her in and she’d lose the element of surprise. She might also lose track of Heaven, who undoubtedly would spend most of her night tucked away in the VIP lounge, which in Heaven’s case should stand for very irritating person.
Heaven stood and took a long look in a mirrored door. She turned, admiring her figure and smiling. Fi rolled her eyes. Yeah, yeah, you’re hot. We get it.
Finally, Heaven made her way out of the penthouse and into the elevator. Fi floated through the walls and into the elevator shaft, following the car down to the nightclub level. When it stopped, she listened for the doors to open and close, then floated down and materialized inside the car. She hit the STOP button to keep the doors closed, then conjured up the best club gear she could. The dress was something she’d seen in last month’s Modiste magazine, sleek black leather with grommets that showed hints of skin and a distressed, uneven hem that hit the tops of her thighs. She added sheer black tights and the ultra-high laser-perforated booties from the magazine’s “What to Own Now” section.
She did a little turn in the elevator, trying to see herself in the polished wood paneling. With the blink of an eye, she redid her face with smoky eyes and fixed her hair into an artfully teased mess. Sometimes being a ghost had major perks.
Punching the STOP button again to release the doors, she took a deep breath. It wasn’t like her to plan things too much, but this was important. Everything had to go just right. Chances of getting to try this again were slim.
The doors opened and she sauntered into the heavy Latin beat, doing her best to look like she belonged. The place was jumping. Good. Maybe the crowd would give her some coverage. She pushed through to the bar, searching for the VIP section as nonchalantly as she could. It wasn’t hard to spot.
The club was two stories, but the second was mostly a wraparound balcony that overlooked the center dance floor. From what she could see, the upstairs was way plusher and the well-dressed people leaning against the railings looked expensive and snooty. And self-important.
Heaven’s kind of crowd.
Fi worked her way into a spot at the bar to see what she could find out. She hadn’t brought any money, which didn’t matter because she probably couldn’t afford the drinks here anyway, so when the bartender asked her what she wanted, she played it off. “Actually, I’m trying to find my friend Heaven. I came in with some girlfriends but we got separated. Do you know her? Petite, big boobs, likes high heels?”
The bartender smiled. “Everybody knows Heaven. She’s married to the pride leader.”
Not for long if Fi could help it.
“She’s usually in the VIP lounge upstairs. If you’re with her group, your name should be on the list to get up there.” He pointed across the dance floor. “Elevator’s over there.”
The music changed just in time. “Oh!” Fi said. “That’s our groove! Any way you could call her and tell her to come down and dance with me?”
“Sure, what’s your name?”
Fi squinted like she hadn’t quite heard him and started to back away. “Thanks! I owe you!” Then she turned and made her way toward the elevator he’d pointed at. The bouncer there didn’t look like he could be talked into anything. If Fi was getting up there, she was going to have to go ghost again.
She hung on the edge of the dance floor while she waited to see if Heaven would come down. The longer she waited, the more she thought. Why hadn’t Heaven just gotten off on the VIP floor? There was no way there wasn’t an exit for the pride leader and his friends.
Fi gave in to the beat a little more, letting it move through her. She knew why Heaven had done what she’d done. Because getting off on the second floor meant all the little people without VIP access wouldn’t get to see her. It was the same reason she wouldn’t let go of Doc. It meant losing the spotlight.
Doc was just one more trophy she’d won. And Heaven was used to winning. But she was also used to things coming easy to her. She had an important father, all the material things she wanted, and a husband who gave her status.
A hard realization struck Fi, bringing her to standstill. Her approach was all wrong. The panic of time slipping away got her moving again, this time to the ladies’ room. She slipped into a stall and from there went ghost and glided through the wall until she was outside. Everything had to change. She pictured it in her head—beat-up kicks, ripped jeans, a favorite rock band tee and a tattered camo jacket. The outfit had been one of her staples during her college days. Then she imagined herself without makeup, her hair stick straight and just the slightest bit dirty.