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Teresa studied my face, trying to see if I was being honest. She leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing mine. “If she’s still human, I’ll drain her dry, then chop her into teeny weeny pieces. If she’s a vampire, I will hang her from a tree and set her on fire.”

My hands tightened involuntarily on her waist. My self-control slipped for just a moment.

“There he is.” She purred. “There’s the monster you pretend not to be.”

I forced my grip to relax. “You’ve made your intentions clear.” I said evenly. “Now it’s my turn to be clear. If you come near Chanel, Morgan, or anyone I deem my clan, I will end you.”

“Oh, Zand.” Teresa sighed. “I expect more of an original threat from you.” She trailed a finger down my chest. “Maybe deep down, you still love me too much to do it.”

The song being mixed changed to Gasolina by Daddy Yankee and the crowd erupted in cheers. The songs fit with my intentions for Teresa. Especially the part about her loving gasoline. I need to get some accelerant and make sure Teresa burns. The dancers around us moved with reckless abandon. I locked eyes with Teresa. I looked at her just as I used to. Some may call it flirting, but I called it an act.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I groaned into her ear. “What I feel for you now isn’t love. It isn’t even hate. It’s nothing. You are nothing to me.”

Her smile faltered, just briefly, before she forced it back into place. “We’ll see about that.” It was the first genuine emotion. “When I’m finished, you’ll feel something for me again, even if it’s just pain.”

The song ended, creating a momentary lull on the dance floor. Teresa stepped back and her eyes never left mine. Her thin lips curved into a smile that promised violence.

“This was lovely.” She mocked. “We should do it more often.”

The crowd on the dance floor shifted. Some dancers left the floor when the song changed. As the parting bodies opened, I saw her. Marisol Lopez emerged from the throng, her eyes locked on Teresa and me. She was dressed in tight black pants, and a red bandana that she made into a halter top. The resemblance to her brother Lonzo was striking. I’d never seen her in person, only in photos and video footage. Teresa’s maniacal smile widened as Marisol approached. The two of them exchanged a look of shared malice.

“Look who’s joined our little reunion.” Teresa said, extending her hand to Marisol. The newly turned vampire took it.

I was surrounded now, sandwiched between two harpies complete with bird brains instead of wings. The music shifted to something slower and more sensual. I was at a tactical disadvantage, but I held my ground.

“You must be Alexander Valentine.” Marisol said, her accent thicker than her brother’s. She positioned herself behind me. Her hands rubbed my shoulders. “Teresa has told me so much about you.”

The three of us moved in tandem. We moved like a parody of dirty dancing. Patrick Swayze would be disgusted. Teresa pressed against my front while Marisol clung to me from behind. Their movements became increasingly more aggressive and provocative.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” I replied.

Marisol’s fingers dug into the muscles of my back. “I think you know exactly who I am,” she hissed right below my ear. “Just like I know what you’re hiding.” She hinted.

Around us, oblivious humans continued dancing. They were caught up in the music and their own desires. I spotted a few curious glances thrown our way. The three of us, one blonde, White woman, a White man and a Hispanic woman, engaged in what appeared to be an intimate dance would draw attention.

“Where is my brother Lonzo?” Marisol demanded. Her hands slid from my back to grip my ass.

I kept my face impassive. Revealing nothing to Teresa, who was watching my every move. Lonzo’s body was bloated somewhere at the bottom of Lake Michigan, but she didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Knowledge was power, and I wasn’t giving her any more than Teresa had already given.

“You came all this way looking for him.” I said instead. “What makes you think I know where he is?”

Teresa cackled, cutting through the music. “Don’t play dumb, Zand. It doesn’t suit you.” She ran her hands down my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Natasha and Harlen had noticed the women’s aggressive behavior. They both moved closer with their hands hovering near their concealed weapons. Josh shifted position, creating a clear line of sight to where we danced. I raised my hand slightly, a subtle gesture that only my team would recognize. Stand down.

“Careful, ladies.” I said with my voice pitched low beneath the music. “There are too many witnesses here.”

Marisol’s laugh was nothing like Teresa’s practiced cackle. Her laugh was raw and unrefined. “You think I care about witnesses? You think I care about anything besides making you pay for what happened to my brother?”

“Your brother made his own choices.” I told her, turning to meet her eyes. “Whatever happened to him was the consequence of his own actions.”

Marisol’s eyes flash dangerously, and I felt her muscles tense as if she might strike me. Teresa noticed too and gives her a warning look. Not here. Not now.

The song changed again, with the beat becoming more insistent. The three of us continued our twisted dance, locked in a power struggle disguised as passion. Sweat-slicked humans pressed closer around us, the dance floor becoming more crowded as the night went on.

“This isn’t over.” I told both women, my voice carried over the music just enough for their vampire hearing to catch.

Teresa’s red lips curved into a smile. “It’s only over when the Black nurse is dead. I promise you that.”