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breath and took off after her, so Creek did the same. Both men caught up to her in a few steps, but Mal kept the argument going. ‘You want to take a slayer into Dominic’s club? You really think that’s the best thing to do? Dominic might not appreciate it.’

She glanced back at Creek like she was reconsidering. ‘Dominic doesn’t need to know what Creek is.’ She pointed at Creek. ‘And you’re not going to say a word about being KM.’

He held his hands up. ‘My lips are sealed.’

Her gaze shifted to Mal. ‘Neither are you.’

‘Not a word,’ Mal said.

Getting inside the club could be invaluable for future missions. ‘In fact,’ Creek added. ‘I’ll be on my best behavior.’

Even if his best behavior meant a few fringe got ashed.

Chapter Thirty

Doc floated and fell. Up. Down. Up. Down. In the abyss of ketamine, everything was nothing, and nothing made sense except the push and pull of unseen forces. His body had abandoned him, leaving him with the feeling of perfect weight-lessness. The universe swirled around him, through him. He became the universe. The Creator. The destroyer of all. Darkness filled his mouth and ears, scaled his eyes. He tried to grasp hold of something, tried to pull himself out, but he had no fingers. No hands.

He drifted.

Drifted …

Drifted …

The scalding scent of ammonia burrowed down through the darkness and yanked him out by the roots of his consciousness. He sputtered awake as he resurfaced. The ketamine sank its velvet claws a little deeper. He fought harder. Blurred images replaced the nothing. He lifted his sandpaper lids. Focused. Then wished he hadn’t.

Dominic stared down at him, the silver glow of his eyes almost blinding. ‘So, Maddoc, it appears your day of reckoning is at hand.’

Doc groaned and struggled to sit so he wouldn’t die lying down. His brain told his arms and legs to move. They didn’t. Then he realized his hands and feet were bound. Without the drug in his system, he probably would’ve been able to snap the rope, but he was too weak. His tongue was missing. Or made of cotton. Why was he fighting the universe’s embrace? He relaxed. The dark curtain began to close around him again.

A hand slapped his face. ‘Wake up.’ Then a sigh. ‘How much did you give him?’

‘Enough,’ answered an Irish lilt.

‘Ketamine,’ Doc said, his voice protesting even as he was unsure why he was speaking at all. The powder had left his vocal cords raw, his throat like a slab of meat. Ketamine affected feline shifters the way laudanum did vampires. Maybe worse.

‘Si,’ Dominic answered. ‘Not nearly so harsh as the combination you injected into me. But my mercy has a purpose.’ He strolled in and out of Doc’s field of vision. ‘I need you alive. At least a little while longer. Until my property is returned.’

It all came down to the blood. Life for Fi. Death for Doc.

‘I don’t have it,’ he ground out. He’d known this day would come from the second he’d shoved that needle into Dominic. He just hadn’t imagined it would come this soon.

Mind-numbing disappointment threatened to pull him back down into the k-hole. His eyes burned. This wasn’t supposed to have happened until he knew Fi was safe. He wanted to cry. If he couldn’t help her, he deserved death.

‘Where is it?’

Doc shook his head, a surge of emotion stealing his voice.

A fist slammed his jaw into the couch he’d been laid out on. The pain woke him up more than the ammonia had, but he played it off. Let them think he was still whacked. Might give him a shot to break free.

Ronan leaned over, blocking the ceiling’s mural. His fist was cocked. ‘Where is it?’

‘Ronan, enough. I need him conscious,’ Dominic said. ‘Who has the blood, Maddoc? Aliza? Tatiana? Ronan told me where she is.’

Ronan. How did that limey get to be a part of this? Then Doc remembered that’s who’d bagged him out in front of Tatiana’s. He spat out a mouthful of blood, bitter with the drug coursing through his system. He wondered what had happened to Mia. If she was still alive. The sinking feeling returned, but this time anger came with it. Why not tell? Wasn’t going to make things any worse. ‘Aliza.’

A tirade of Italian spewed out of Dominic. Then a loud noise, like a fist pounding on a desk. A few moments later, Dominic was back in Doc’s face. ‘Since you gave my blood to the witch, you will get it back.’

‘Why should I? You’re going to kill me either way.’ He wiggled his toes, and for the first time since he’d woken up, they responded.

‘Get the blood back and help me put an end to Tatiana and I may not.’

Doc barked a laugh, raking pain down his throat. ‘Liar. You’re going to kill me first chance you get.’

Dominic grabbed a handful of Doc’s shirt and jerked him up. ‘Get the blood back for me, aid me in killing Tatiana, and I’ll let you live.’

Doc stilled, but kept his fingers working on the knots at his wrists. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

‘I swear it on Maris’s grave.’

Doc still didn’t trust him, but it meant buying time. He nodded. ‘Deal.’

‘We get the blood first, before the witch can do anything with it.’ Dominic dropped him and the weight of Doc’s body crushed his arms into the cushions, ending his attempt to free his hands. Dominic walked away, but Doc could move his head enough to keep track of him. Dominic nodded to Ronan, then tilted his head at Doc. ‘Get the walking shackles on him. I want to leave as soon as possible.’

Ronan nodded. ‘I’ll take him out through the garage.’

Good. Maybe Ronan would screw up, give Doc a chance to bolt. He went back to work trying to loosen his hands.

‘No,’ Dominic said. ‘Take him out through the employee entrance. I want everyone who works here to be reminded

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