The easy way to handle it would have been to call Adam and ask him to meet up with Tommy there. Adam was a card-carrying member, and far from being repulsed by the club’s sickening purpose, he actually liked the place. At least, he’d liked it before he and Dom had had a run-in with Shae, the club’s owner. I doubted Adam would set foot in there again for any reason other than official business. Besides, I didn’t want to talk to Adam, not with Lugh’s request/order looming. Yes, I’d rather present it to Adam and Dom myself, but I’m a big fan of procrastination.

I wasn’t what you’d call happy with my decision, but I suppose you could say I was resolved to it. I spent the afternoon and much of the evening loading myself up with caffeine to get me through a long night and trying not to think about what I was about to do. At around ten, I put on my favorite pair of black leather pants along with an emerald green halter top that left my belly button bare and revealed the tattoo on my back. It wasn’t the kind of top I could wear a bra with, but it had a flimsy built-in shelf bra that slightly reduced the jiggle factor. I finished the outfit off with some platform sandals that added another couple of inches to my already greater-than-average height, then looked myself over in the mirror.

I looked far more demure and conservative than I’d looked the last time I’d set foot in that club, but I was dressed sexy enough to fit right in. I was also dressed sexy enough that I could probably persuade some hormone-crazed demon groupie to take me in as his guest, seeing as I wasn’t a member myself. I’d then have to find a way to ditch said hormone-crazed groupie, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s the cold shoulder.

The Seven Deadlies is located on South Street, home to some of Philadelphia’s most outlandish citizens. Bars, clubs, tattoo parlors, fetish shops, New Age bookstores. You name it—if it’s off the beaten path, you can be sure you’ll find it somewhere along South Street.

I looked downright conservative next to some of the South Street regulars I passed as I made my way from the garage where I’d parked to the club. Mohawks, funky dye-jobs, ostentatious body piercings. . Maybe I’d need to get another tattoo or ten. Nah. I didn’t plan to come here ever again.

On the outside, The Seven Deadlies looks relatively ordinary, just a normal South Street alternative club. Even on a Monday night, there was a steady stream of customers going in. Still, I decided I’d try to get in on my own merits before going for the charming-a-helpless-male technique.

I was glad to see the Guardian of the Gates was a young, handsome guy. That upped my chances of conning my way in. When I approached the window, I put on my friendliest smile and pressed my shoulders back a bit to make sure the halter top clung to my breasts just right. Handsome Guy gave me a thorough once-over with his eyes before greeting me with a bland “Can I help you?”

I might have been insulted that he didn’t seem to be reacting to my appearance if I hadn’t caught the quickly suppressed gleam in his eyes when he’d looked me over.

“I’ve heard great things about this club,” I gushed, trying to look young and brainless. “I was wondering who I could talk to about maybe buying a membership.”

He gave me another of those up-and-down looks, then smiled at me with what looked like regret. “Sorry, but our membership roster is full. The waiting list is about three months.”

Yeesh! There were that many people who wanted to hang out at a demon sex club? I made a pouty face—maybe I was laying it on a little thick, but I’ve never been a big fan of subtlety.

“Is it possible to buy a guest pass? I’d love to look around, get a feel for whether the place is worth waiting for.” A line was forming behind me, and I could feel the impatience at my back. Handsome Guy seemed to feel it, too, since his expression hardened into full authority-figure mode.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the club is only for members and their guests.”

“We can make an exception for this one, Deke,”said a voice from over my left shoulder.

I turned slowly, my fists automatically clenching at my sides, my teeth grinding as I struggled to control my primal impulses.

Standing behind me, where she must have emerged from a nearby door marked Employees Only, was Shae, last name unknown to me, the owner of The Seven Deadlies. Approximately my height, with deep ebony skin and hair cut so short she was practically bald, Shae reminded me of a black panther, a creature of deadly grace and beauty. She was also a predator, a mercenary, and an illegal demon, whom Adam refused to arrest because she served as his snitch—when it was convenient to her.

She was dressed all in red and black, an outfit that only heightened the aura of danger that clung to her. A black leather bustier, only half a shade darker than her skin, made the most of her minimal cleavage, the bloodred bow at the center drawing the eye. Her black leather pants were even tighter than my own, and her shoes—red patent leather pumps with spiky, four-inch heels—were a hell of a lot showier. She topped the outfit off with a dramatic floor-length black and red brocade duster.

I’d taken an instant dislike to Shae when I’d first met her, and nothing since then had persuaded me to change my opinion. I had sort of hoped she either wouldn’t be here, or at least wouldn’t recognize me, but I should have known my luck wasn’t that good.

She smiled her shark’s smile and put a hand on my arm, drawing me away from the window so the next schmuck in line could pay his way in. I let her touch me for about ten seconds, then jerked my arm from her grip. It was probably a good time to cut my losses and get the hell out of here, but as you may have noticed, I’m a bit stubborn. I had a plan, and I wasn’t going to let Evil Bitch from Hell ruin it.

“I had no idea you enjoyed yourself so much the last time you were in my club,” Shae said, still smiling. I tried desperately not to think about the things that had happened the last time I’d set foot in here, but of course it didn’t work.

“What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment,” I responded, then instantly regretted it as Shae’s eyes gleamed.

“You’ve come to the right place, sugar. Perhaps you’d like to venture down into Hell tonight as a participant, rather than an observer?”

I managed to suppress my shudder, but I’m sure the revulsion showed in my eyes. Shae laughed, and I wondered what would happen if I gave in to my temptation to introduce her face to my fist. I didn’t wonder very long, though. She was a demon, and my own demon was helpless against her unless I let him take over. I had no particular desire to get my ass kicked tonight, so I reluctantly kept my temper in check.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” I asked, not in the mood for a game of cat and mouse.

“I already said I would, didn’t I?” She reached into what must have been an inner pocket in the duster, then handed me a voucher. “I’ll even throw in a free drink.”

I took the voucher from her even as I wondered what the hell her game was. I don’t suppose she had any particular reason to dislike me—after all, she’d earned lots of money on me when one faction of demons paid her to help capture me and Adam paid her to help me escape. But I didn’t imagine she was welcoming me into her club with open arms because of any great affection she bore me, either.

“What’s your angle?” I asked her suspiciously.

“I have no angle,” she said, though her claim was patently false. “I regret some of the. . difficulties you experienced the last time you were here. Since you were kind enough to stop by again, I figured it was the least I could do to show you the true face of The Seven Deadlies.”

I knew full well I’d seen the true face already, and it was uglier than even I could have imagined. Common sense told me that if Shae wanted me to come into her club, then the intelligent thing to do was to run the other way as fast as I could. But I wanted to talk to Tommy Brewster, and here of all places he would be most likely to be willing to talk to me. After all, who would ever suspect a patron of a demon sex club of being an exorcist?