Dane looked at the small object cradled in her palm. She smiled slightly. “From a friend.”

“Some friend,” Nancy snorted. “That ‘friend’ just left here with my — whatever she is.” She swallowed the rest of her drink and looked questioningly at Dane. “Buy a lady a drink?”

“In a minute. Tell me what happened here first,” Dane asked.

“Damned if I know,” Nancy said. “They were making some sort of bargain or something. I’ll do this if you do that—it didn’t make any sense. Kyle—” her voice broke suddenly. “Kyle was acting like some damn avenging angel. Out to save my honor.” She looked at Dane astutely, her eyes clear for a second. “Or someone’s honor.”

Dane swallowed tensely. “Tell me what she said.”

“Dane,” Caroline said, afraid for Dane, “let it go.”

“No!” Dane said vehemently. “Kyle doesn’t know Brad. She doesn’t know what she’s capable of.” She turned back to Nancy, her eyes hard. “Think! What did Kyle say?”

Nancy shook her clouded her head. “She said something about being the only left top-” she stopped, giggling. “No, that’s not right. The only top left? I know—the only one left who could top Brad.” She laughed without humor. “That’s a bitch, isn’t it? Top the perfect top.”

Dane stared at her. “What else?”

“Something about if Kyle couldn’t, Brad could do whatever she liked.”

“Oh, Christ,” Dane groaned. She turned to Caroline, her face set. “Can you take Nancy home with you?”

Caroline looked at her friend in alarm. “Of course, but where are you going?”

“I’m going after Kyle.”

“Where?”

“I know where,” Dane said grimly.

Caroline grabbed Dane’s arm, wanting to protect her. “Don’t get into it, Dane. It’s not your affair!”

“Oh, but it is, Caroline,” Dane replied quietly. “It always has been.”

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

KYLE MANEUVERED BRAD’S Mercedes quickly but calmly through the familiar streets. Brad sat silently beside her, studying the frozen planes of Kyle’s granite-like face. She was disquieted, inwardly uncertain. She slid her hand under the passenger seat and detached a small, slim container secured there. Kyle glanced over as Brad removed a small plastic bag from the box.

“No drugs,” Kyle said tersely. “I want to be sure you remember every detail.”

Brad stared at her, amazed. Kyle continued to watch the road. Brad hesitated for a moment and then replaced the contents of the container and slipped it back under the seat.

By the time they reached the Encounters, it was crowded. The tables ringing the center stage were full. People slipped in and out of the shadows near the scene rooms, while others jostled each other for a place at the bar.

“Nice crowd,” Kyle said nonchalantly. She was relaxed, sure of herself. She even began to enjoy the anticipation of what was to come. She ordered a drink and turned to Brad. “I left my motorcycle bag on the back seat of your car. Get it for me.”

Brad’s head snapped up, and she started to protest. Then she smiled. All right, if that’s the way Kyle wanted to play it. She could have her chance. It would make Brad’s victory all the sweeter. She left to retrieve the heavy black tank bag.

Kyle finished her drink leisurely, keeping her eye on the center stage. When several women approached it, preparing to start a scene, Kyle strode over to them.

“I’d like you to wait,” she said quietly. “I have something planned for Brad.”

The women stared at her. Kyle looked resplendent in tight leather pants, heavy biker boots and a white shirt open between her breasts. The top took note of the leather wristband on Kyle’s left arm and the keys dangling from a strap on her left side. She nodded curtly. “All right—but it had better be good.”

“Oh, it will be,” Kyle said as she turned away. She knew the word would circulate quickly through the bar that a heavy scene was planned. She stepped onto the stage, feeling many eyes upon her, and checked all of the restraints hidden in the shadows with care. When she turned around, the room was quiet.

Brad returned with Kyle’s bag, instantly aware of the change of atmosphere. When heads turned to stare at her, she felt perspiration break out on her back and under her arms. Now there was no turning back. Kyle awaited her on the steps of the stage. Brad walked toward her, her head high. Damn, she would not lower her eyes in front of everyone! As it was, Kyle had the advantage, being taller, and now she appeared almost statuesque, standing solidly above her.

“You can leave now, Brad,” Kyle murmured as she took the bag from Brad’s hand. “It’s your last chance.”

Brad knew how badly she would lose face if she turned away. She had to beat Kyle at her own game. If she refused to acknowledge Kyle’s dominance, she would win. No one would ever dare challenge her again. Kyle was the only one who had ever come close to taking her place in the dark shadow world of their nighttime lives. Not even Dane had garnered such a reputation as a top.

“No,” Brad said. “I still don’t think you can do it.”

Kyle merely nodded. Someone turned all the lights down, leaving the two of them outlined in the hazy red glow on center stage.

“Take your jacket off. Fold it neatly and lay it over a chair,” Kyle commanded.

Brad responded, not diffidently. She returned to stand before Kyle, her eyes belligerent.

Kyle turned slightly to one side, motioning for Brad to mount the stage. She heard matches flare behind her, bottles shuffled about on the tabletops. She stopped Brad midway between the side posts of the scaffold. She positioned Brad so that she faced the room.

“I want you to see them watching you,” Kyle said softly, her eyes cold. She placed her bag on a small ledge in the shadows and slid the long zipper down. The sound was magnified in the dark, quiet room. She removed wide, well-padded leather shackles, attached to short chains. She hooked the chains to the rings set into the wooden arches and returned to Brad.

Slowly, purposefully, she slipped a long, slim object from the inner pocket of her jacket. When the blade of the knife snapped open, it caught the reflection of the overhead lights and glittered in her hand. A murmur passed through the crowd. Brad’s eyes fixed on the blade in astonishment.

“You haven’t got the guts,” Brad whispered, so softly that only Kyle could hear her.

“Oh, but I do,” she replied, her eyes locked on Brad’s.

Kyle deliberately cut each button off the front of Brad’s shirt with a practiced flick of her wrist. When the shirt fell open, exposing Brad’s small firm breasts, Kyle leaned forward. She slipped her hand into the leather waistband of Brad’s pants, creating a space between Brad’s abdomen and the soft material. With her other hand, Kyle turned the knife sideways and slid the flat of the blade straight down along the underside of the zipper, leaving the gleaming black handle nestled against Brad’s stomach.

“Stand very still, now,” Kyle warned mockingly as she stepped back. Methodically she stripped off the remains of Brad’s shirt. While Brad stood naked from the waist up, the knife protruding from the top of her pants like a misplaced phallus, Kyle carefully applied the restraints to her ankles and wrists. She stood behind Brad, her face close to her ear.

“You can get out of these anytime you like. It’s your safe way out.” She waited a heartbeat. “And if you do—I win.”

Brad swallowed, all of her senses centered on the cold steel that lay along her skin, threatening to twist its razor-sharp edge against her at the slightest movement. It won’t work, she told herself. But still she felt the restraints on her arms as if they were bands of iron. Could she get out?

Kyle stepped around her to the side and pulled the knife free of Brad’s body with a wrenching motion, as if pulling it from her depths. She heard someone gasp and realized with satisfaction that it was Brad. Sweat beaded on Brad’s breasts and began to trickle in uneven streams down her sculpted torso. Under the red lights it looked like blood.

Kyle smiled grimly as the room receded from her view. She saw only the form before her, helplessly within her power. And as she stared at Brad’s body, she saw Dane, and the raw, oozing wounds. Rage threatened to usurp her reason. She shook her head; she knew she needed all her concentration now. With the tip of the blade, all of which was visible to the crowd in the blackness of the room, she outlined Brad’s breasts with intricate movements, lightly scratching the skin, never deep enough to draw blood. The blade was everywhere—now nearly piercing the nipple, now close to the soft vulnerable underside. At any moment Brad expected to feel the sharp lancet enter her body. The steel flashed as Kyle moved it rapidly from hand to hand, finally bringing the point to rest in the hollow at the base of Brad’s throat. Kyle pushed hard enough that Brad needed to arch her neck away to relieve the sharp pressure. Brad was scarcely breathing. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as the slim blade flickered against her skin.

“I could end this now,” Kyle said, so that only Brad could hear. “It would be quick, and you’d only feel the smallest point of pain. Like a needle driven into your arm.”

Brad’s head reeled. Kyle knows! She must know about Dane—and Nancy?

Kyle moved closer, her breath hot against Brad’s ear. “But I don’t need drugs to control you. That would be too good for you, Brad. Too simple.” Kyle ran the fingers of her free hand down the planes of Brad’s taut abdomen, smiling with grim satisfaction as the muscles quivered under her touch. “I want much more from you. I want your soul.”

Brad felt the ice in Kyle’s voice like a cold hand around her heart. In the center of Brad’s being, fear burgeoned like a living beast. She finally understood that the game they played was not a game, and the stake’s were their lives. She gasped again as Kyle inserted the blade along the sides of her legs and slashed the leather open to her knees in one powerful thrust. Her skin was untouched, but it felt as if her flesh had been flayed open. Kyle released Brad’s wrists for a moment and turned her so that her back was exposed to view. Just as quickly, she lightly refastened the shackles.