A few moments later, she opened the door. The base whispered across the plastic sheeting on the floor. I mentally held my breath, telling myself even as I did so that I was being ridiculous. But, as is often the case, my fears proved to be right on the fucking nose.

In addition to the masked gimp lying in the fetal position in the kennel in the corner, there was also a vampire male wearing a charming outfit that consisted of a pair of nipple clamps, some testicle weights, and a pained grimace. Without a word, Mistress Bianca snapped her fingers. Nipple Clamps jumped to do her bidding. As he minced across the room to the wet bar, the testicle weights clacked together disconcertingly. Adam, Giguhl, and I watched, slack-jawed. Bianca either didn’t notice or didn’t care about our shock. She just walked to her desk and plopped down in her chair.

Giguhl stood on my shoulder, his little body stiff with alarm. In my ear, he hissed, “What the fuck?”

I shook my head. “Act natural.”

That earned me a bitch-please snort from the feline. Beside me, Adam shot me a wide-eyed stare.

“Sit,” Mistress B’s voice snapped like a whip.

The cat’s ass hit my shoulder. Adam scrambled into a chair. Nipple Clamps dropped to the ground.

“Not you, worm. Stand up and get the drinks,” she said quietly. Her volume might not have been loud, but her tone clearly promised retribution if he didn’t comply. She looked up and noticed I was the only one who hadn’t done her bidding. “Sabina?” She didn’t say please, but a now was implied by her tone.

“I’ll stand.” I wasn’t so much challenging her authority as trying to avoid touching anything.

The dominatrix’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits. The newspaper lining the gimp’s cage crinkled as he whimpered and curled into the fetal position. Nipple Clamps wrapped his arms protectively around his torso, as if he expected a beating for my impertinence.

“Oh, shit,” the cat whispered under his breath.

I held the vamp’s gaze steadily. After a few tense moments, she smiled. “As you wish.”

“What can you tell us about the glove?” As an afterthought Adam added, “Ma’am.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Well, it’s not a simple glove, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” She ran a black-lacquered fingernail over the spikes on the glove’s palm. “Vampire gloves are quite popular among blood-sport enthusiasts.”

“Is that a politically correct term for vampires?” Giguhl asked. “Ma’am,” he added at the last moment.

She shook her head. “No. Blood sport is not confined to vampires. Plenty of humans enjoy a little blood play. In fact, most vamps don’t even bother with this type of accessory.” She smiled widely to flash her fangs. Her pink tongue flicked against the sharp points. “May I ask how you came by it?”

I crossed my arms. “That was found in a murder scene.”

Her red brows shot to her widow’s peak. “Is this about the mage who was killed at Vein?”

Word certainly had spread quickly. No point in denying. “Yeah.”

Nipple Clamps clanked his way back to the desk carrying a tray. He went to the mistress first and deposited a glass of blood near her hand. She didn’t look at him but he bowed anyway. Then he came to me and handed me an identical glass without making eye contact. I wasn’t sure of the etiquette. Was it a faux pas to thank another woman’s slave?

In the end, I decided to take the mistress’s example and ignored him. He offered a glass to Adam, but the mage grimaced and shook his head.

“What exactly do you need to know?” she asked.

“Where would someone buy vampire gloves?” Adam asked.

“Ah,” she said. “That’s simple. There’s only one place in New York where someone could get a pair of gloves exactly like these.”

“Just one?” Adam said. “That’s surprising. Didn’t you say it’s a common item for blood fetishists?”

“That would be true if it were a generic vampire glove. Those you could get in dozens of shops and even online. But this level of craftsmanship?” She ran a finger over the intricate designs along the glove’s knuckles. “There’s only one vampire capable of making such a masterpiece.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

She laughed, a deep throaty sound. Tossing the bag on the desk, she leaned forward with her chin on her hand. “Me.”

Giguhl tensed, as if ready to run away. In front of me, Adam stiffened and I placed a hand on his shoulder. I kept my features calm, but my heart was thumping in my chest. “Are you saying that glove belongs to you?”

She leaned back with her hands folded neatly across her taut midsection. “I believe I said I made it, not that it is my personal glove.”

“Where were you last night around midnight?” Adam asked.

“I was here. Had an appointment with a client.”

“Can you prove that?” I said.

The corner of her lip lifted, but her eyes hardened. “In theory, yes. But since you’re not an officer of the law and you have no warrant, I will not. My clients trust me to protect their privacy.”

My eyes narrowed. “That excuse would work if this was a mortal criminal investigation. But we are here under the authority of Despina Tanith Severinus, High Councilman Orpheus of the Hekate Council, and The Shade. I’m sure all three would be very interested to know you aren’t cooperating.” Honestly, I didn’t believe Mistress Bianca was the murderer. But I hoped putting her on the defensive would encourage her to open up about who bought the glove.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Sabina, let’s not let this polite conversation devolve into power plays and vague threats. It demeans us both.” She leaned forward and flipped through a leather-bound agenda on the desk. “I won’t give you the client’s name, but the appointment lasted from midnight to one a.m.”

“Can anyone verify that information?” Adam asked.

She waved a hand toward Nipple Clamps. “Francis will confirm it as truth.” She snapped her fingers.

“I confirm it as truth,” Francis said.

My face tightened into a fuck-you smile. “Yes, I’m sure the testimony of your slave is reliable.”

“I’m not sure what to tell you.” Her shrug made something squeak under her suit. I wondered if she had on some sort of crazy latex contraption under there. “But why would I admit to making the glove if I’d murdered this mage?”

“She makes a good point, Sabina,” Adam said. I made a mental note to exclude him from interrogations with hot dominatrixes in the future.

“Fine. I still need to know who purchased the glove.”

“Again, I protect my clients. If word got out that I opened my books to you, my credibility would be shot.” She smiled smugly.

“Not as shot as it would be if Slade revoked your feeding rights.”

Her smile faltered. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, I assure you that he would. The murder happened in his club. I’m sure you’re aware how seriously The Shade takes his position in the vampire community. And even if he didn’t, I’m fairly certain the Despina and the High Councilman would have an opinion. Your persistence in obstructing this investigation will not go without consequences.”

She sat still for a few moments, thinking it over. The truth was I hoped she didn’t call my bluff and get Slade on the phone. I had no idea if he’d agree to revoke her feeding rights over this. For all I knew, they were lovers and he’d be pissed I threatened her.

Mistress Bianca rose with as much dignity as she could muster. She walked stiffly to a filing cabinet and unlocked it with a key hanging from a chain around her neck. She pulled out a ledger and flipped through it. After a moment, she said, “According to my records, that item was sold four nights ago here in the store. The purchaser paid cash.”

“Were you here? Do you remember the buyer?” Adam asked.

She shook her head. “No, I would have remembered selling that pair. Whoever bought it must have come in during daylight hours. I have human employees who run the shop while I’m sleeping.”

“Who was working that day?” I asked.

She pursed her lips. “Let me check the time sheets.”

Bianca rifled through some more file folders. When she found what she was looking for, she ran a black nail down the paper. The finger stopped on something and her face changed. “Shit,” she whispered.

I rose and went to her. “What is it?”

She held up the sheet. “Liam worked that day.” Her voice sounded different, strained.

“Can we talk to him?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

What the hell was this chick’s problem? “Do we really need to go through this again? It’s imperative we speak to Liam to find out who bought the gloves.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice cracking. “You can’t talk to Liam because he’s dead.”

My stomach did a triple backflip. I glanced at Adam, who looked as shocked as I felt. “What?”

Mistress Bianca’s eyes sparkled wetly. “It was horrible. They found his body in Central Park just last night.”

A chill crawled down my spine. “Holy shit.”

“After I found out, I called Slade and he said he’d take care of it.” Her eyes widened then. “Wait, does this mean Liam’s death is related to the mage’s murder?”

I swallowed the bad feeling rising in my throat. This shit just got a whole lot more complicated. Especially since our only witness to the glove’s owner was in the morgue, which meant our one clue, like Liam, had just met a dead end.

“It’s possible,” Adam said. “As far as we know, Liam was the only one who could identify the owner of the gloves.”

“Which means we’re back to square one,” Giguhl said.