I pushed away from the table. “What do want me to do, Giguhl? Ignore that Adam got sliced and diced tonight?”

“I’m not saying someone doesn’t deserve to pay for selling us out.” He looked me dead in the eye. “But you better be damned sure you’ve got the right ass**le before you get physical.”

Adam shifted on the table. “He’s right, Red. We need a plan.”

I looked at him. “Guys, it’s just a conversation. And what do you mean we ? You’re not going anywhere.”

“I absolutely am. You’re not doing this alone.”

I threw my hands up. “Adam, I hate to point this out, but you were almost disemboweled less than an hour ago. Besides, I’ll take Gigi with me.”

Adam pressed his lips together at my exaggeration. “First of all, considering how reluctant Mac was to introduce us to her source, this probably won’t be a simple conversation.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Second, I was nowhere near about to spill my guts.” He grimaced and swung his legs over the side of the table. “And third, I might be too weak to heal myself, but I can still hold a f**king gun.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Don’t let your pride cause more problems than we need right now.”

He drew back, stung. “Right back at ya, Red.” His tone low, cutting.

I clenched my jaw. We stared each other down for a few moments.

Giguhl’s head swiveled from side to side, waiting for one of us to break our stalemate. “Sabina, let him come. I’ll look out for him.”

My stare locked with Adam’s. “No.”

His biceps heaved as he slid off the table and placed his weight on his feet. One hand flew to the bandage, but he managed to step away from the table’s support.

“Adam, don’t be an idiot, you’ll hurt yourself.” My shrewish I know what’s best for you tone brought me up short.

Adam wasn’t my minion. Hell, even Giguhl barely qualified for that title anymore. So even though it pained me to back down, I did, because Adam was a grown-ass man.

“Okay,” I said finally.

Adam looked up from pulling on his shirt. “What?”

I took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate your help.”

Giguhl stepped forward, his hooves clacking on the floorboards. “It’s a trick, mancy!”

I shot him a look. “No, really, it’s fine. Just be careful, okay?”

Adam looked at me for a moment, as if he expected me to start laughing or deliver a punch line. When I simply returned his look with my face trained into a more open expression, he pulled his shirt the rest of the way down. “Let’s go have a chat with the wolf.”

Lagniappe and the building that housed the club were dark by the time we arrived. The street was equally deserted as we ducked in the side entrance. We quickly made our way up to the second floor and approached the faded blue door. Despite the late— or early, depending on your race— hour, I didn’t knock gently. Instead, my fist pounded the wood so hard my knuckles stung.

After five minutes of constant knocking, the door finally flew open. Mac stood across the threshold in a thin white T-shirt and a pair of ratty boxer shorts. Her only accessories were a major case of bed head and a shotgun.

When she saw the three of us standing there, she lowered the barrel with a frown. “Sabina?”

“Hey, Mac. You got a minute?”

She yawned and rubbed a hand through the nest on her head. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“A little after four a.m. May we come in? It’s important.”

She nodded over my shoulder. “Who’s the demon?”

I squinted at her, confused. “That’s Giguhl.”

She shook her head. “I thought Giguhl was a cat.” That’s when I remembered the first and last time she’d seen him he was asleep in Zen’s counter.

“He’s both,” I said. “And it’s a long story. Can we come in?”

She looked more confused than ever but seemed to finally clue into the tension in my tone. “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, no. Everything is very far from okay.”

She frowned and opened the door wider. “Come on in, then.”

I smiled politely, but inside I was seething. The more I thought about how close Adam had come to losing his life, the more my fists itched to strangle Mac’s friend.

On the way over, we’d decided Giguhl and Adam would basically hang in the back looking imposing in case Mac refused to reveal her source’s identity. I’d do all the talking until and unless the time came for harsher tactics. I wasn’t leaving the apartment without a name, whether Mac liked it or not.

Once we were all inside, Mac leaned the shotgun against the end of the couch. Then she walked back toward us. “Can I get you anything? All I have is beer and water.”

I waved a hand.

“Okay, why don’t you sit and tell me what’s going on, then?” Fatigue added a slight growl to her words.

Perching on the edge of the love seat, I removed the gun from my waistband and set it within easy reach on the coffee table. If she noted the firearm, she gave no indication. She did frown when the males didn’t sit. Instead they stood closer to the door, effectively blocking the exit.

Her eye movements indicated the shewolf was doing some quick thinking. “Are Brooks and Zenobia okay?” she prompted.

“They’re fine,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “But Adam had some trouble tonight. In fact, we all did.”

She squinted. “What happened?”

“We were ambushed.”

Her jaw went slack. “Oh, my gods, are you guys okay?” She looked at Adam with concern. “Adam?”

He nodded. “I’m fine. Zen’s a good healer.”

“Mac,” I said, regaining her attention. “I need the name of your source with the vamps.”

She frowned. “Why?”

I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Your source gave you that address, right? The one on Prytania Street? The ambush happened a block away from that house.”

“So she was right about vampires in that house.”

I shook my head. “The only thing we found at that address were a bunch of drugged-out musicians with some disturbing sexual appetites.”

“I’m confused. Who attacked you, then?”

“Really? I need to spell it out for you?” I paused as her expression morphed from confusion to something harder. “Your friend sold us out.”

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