The trouble was, like all good things, the party had to come to an end and it turned out not to be of the knocked-out-opponent variety—although given the way the college kid’s pins were wobbling, if Vin had just a little longer…

But no, Jim broke up the fun, locking a heavy hand on Vin’s shoulder and yanking him out of range. “We’ve got an audience.”

Panting like an f’in bull, Vin glanced up the hallway. Sure enough, a guy with glasses and a mustache was staring at them all, his expression like he’d been witness to a car accident.

Before anyone could react, however, the back door to the club swung open and an African-American man came striding down toward the melee, looking like he was capable of tearing the front fender off a car. With his teeth.

“What the hell is going on in my house?”

Vin’s dark-haired woman stepped out from the locker room. “Trez, the two in the skull shirts are the problem.”

Vin blinked like a dummy at the beautiful sound of her voice, but then he refocused and muscled his kid face-first into the wall. “Feel free to finish what I started here,” he said to the club’s owner.

Jim pulled his loose bundle of frat boy off the floor. “This one had the knife.”

The Trez guy looked the kids over. “Where’s the weapon?” Jim kicked the thing over and the owner bent down and picked it up. “Police been called?”

Everyone glanced at the woman, and as she shook her head, Vin found himself unable to look away. From across the club she’d made his heart pound; up close she made the thing stop dead: Her eyes were so blue they reminded him of a summer sky.

“I think these boys are done,” Trez said with approval. “Nice work.”

“Where do you want them?” Jim asked.

“Let’s take ’em out back.”

Look at me, Vin thought at the woman. Look at me again. Please.

“Roger that,” Jim said, and began hauling his load down the hall.

After a moment, Vin followed the example, pushing his guy along. When they came to the door, Trez opened the way like a perfect gentleman and stepped to the side.

“Anywhere you like,” the owner said.

Jim ‘liked’ the brick wall to the left, whereas Vin preferred the opposite side—

Just as he dropped the kid on his ass, he froze.

The security lights around the door shone down over the heads of the boys, casting a solid blanket of illumination all the way to their feet. So their shadows should have been on the asphalt. They weren’t. Both of them had dark halos on the brick behind their heads, a twin pair of smoky gray crowns that weaved ever so slightly.

“Oh…Christ,” Vin whispered.