Free Hero - The Ambush: Special Forces Romance by M. S. Parker Page A

looking for me, as I had no doubt he was, all he had to do was pull the GPS info. For all I knew, he'd already done it and was only minutes behind me.
    I pulled into the Hilton and let the valets take away my car. As my car disappeared with my phone still in it, I felt free. No way to find me, no one to stop me.
    The valet hailed a cab as I pulled money from the Hilton's lobby ATM. No car, no phone, no credit cards. Haze would have a hard time tracking me. And he'd never think to look for me where I was going.
    “Seventh Circle,” I said as I climbed into the cab.
    He drove away from the curb, but I felt his eyes checking and rechecking me as we wove through traffic. “Are you sure, miss? It's called Seventh Circle for a reason. As in the Seventh Circle of Hell.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but it was clear from his expression that he felt the need to clarify even further. “It's one of those dungeon clubs where people dress up like vampires and all that shi-stuff.”
    I laughed, but the sound made me cringe. “That's the place,” I said. I gave him a smile in the mirror. “Let's just say I have a date with the devil.”
    He pursed his lips and drove in silence until we pulled up next to the alley opening. A red neon arrow pointed down the alley where another smaller sign blinked down a stone staircase.
    He spoke again as I pulled out the cash I needed. “I'm telling you, miss, that's no place for a nice girl like you.”
    I tossed a couple bills at him. “Too bad you don't know me.” I didn't give him a chance to respond as I climbed out of the cab and slammed the door behind me.
    I paused on the sidewalk as I dug in my purse and pulled out a black satin ribbon. I'd torn it off a dress a few days ago and shoved it into my purse. Now it would serve a different function.
    I tied it around my neck with a pert bow, making a choker necklace that was a perfect contrast to my white dress. I would glow in the club's backlights and attract the maximum attention. My heart pounded at the thought. This was just what I needed.
    I took out my gold barrettes and fluffed my now-dried curls. The stone steps were steep and I descended slowly, enjoying the sensation of disappearing from my normal life. Thick black doors padded with red vinyl swallowed me whole and I stood in the heavy darkness, holding my breath until my eyes adjusted.
    Seventh Circle was more crowded than I'd hoped at this early hour. Knots of young people in various shades of black and heavy eyeliner lined the bar and the dance floor. I'd heard about the club from Paris when she'd had a brief fling with a Goth poet, but I'd never been there. I didn't want to think about her, but I remembered that she'd said the drinks were cheap, and the drugs easy to find. I sauntered to the bar, my dress glowing purple under the black lights.
    “Shot of tequila, top shelf,” I said. “Glad to see there's a top shelf in Hell.”
    The bartender swung her black braid as she turned toward me. “Shots are free for human sacrifices.”
    I laughed and studied her heavy black make-up. The thick cat eyes framed impossibly light green eyes, a color so pale that they were nearly white. Her cheekbones were high and dramatically blushed, her lipstick a solid blood red. She was stunning and staring at me as openly as I looked at her. I wondered if she made a habit of seducing newbies.
    I gestured for another tequila shot.
    “I'd watch out, Zoey. That's not a human sacrifice. That's the Devil herself,” a black-haired man a few feet down the bar spoke up.
    I raised an eyebrow. “You know me?” I nearly laughed at the question. Of course, he didn't know me. No one knew me .
    “I do,” he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked toward me. “I've seen your picture in the tabloids.”
    Right.
    I slammed the next shot Zoey handed me and felt the alcohol start to take hold. “Then you know I'm here to party.”
    I didn't even ask his name as I dragged him onto the