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I greet Gus, the bouncer, and pay my cover fee before searching the club for Specter, spotting him at a table with his husband, Colson. Ghost and Phantom are there too, with a man I don’t know sitting between them and sipping a fruity cocktail.

“Hey, guys,” I say, dropping into a chair.

“Hey,” Specter says while the other guys also greet me. “Got you a drink.” He points at a glass of my favorite tequila and soda.

“Thanks.” I take a sip, leaning back. “So I got some info.”

“On what?” Phantom asks.

“I think there’s a serial killer around, but get this: His victims are middle-aged men.”

“How do you know it’s a guy?” Colson asks. “I can think of a thousand reasons women would want to hunt middle-aged men.”

“Fair, but I asked around and confirmed it’s a man. Besides, women wouldn’t work this way. He’s being obvious about it. He wants the cops to know. Women are smart when they kill.”

“You don’t think this guy is smart?” Ghost asks.

“Don’t know yet. I found one of his bodies tonight in Rafferty Park. Bullet to the head, left the guy under a tree clear as day. I talked to some kids who’ve seen him around. He seems to be going after predators, but the victims I researched don’t have anything like that in their past.”

“That we know of,” Specter says. “Maybe they just haven’t been caught yet.”

“Right, but then how does the killer know?”

“Maybe he’s a victim,” the unknown man says.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, man,” Phantom says. “This is Felix.”

“I work with at-risk youth,” Felix explains. “Your killer might know who these men are from experience.”

I meet Phantom’s eyes, wondering how much Felix knows about us, but my brother shakes his head subtly. Nothing. Okay.

“Well, it’s up to the cops to figure out.” I sip my drink. I should’ve known better than to speak in front of a stranger.

As the last dancer leaves, the MC for the night steps onto the stage—a slender drag queen made up like Morticia Adams, with long black hair, a tight-fitting leotard, and incredibly high heels.

“Gays and theys, please welcome to the stage, the one and only, Blush.”

The crowd goes wild but my stomach twists with anticipation. What will he do tonight? One of his super bendy, flexible routines? Something high energy?

The curtains part and the lights dim even more, then a spotlight appears, shining down on Blush, who’s standing with his back turned to us. The music is slow and sultry as he twists around to face us wearing a long silk robe.

“God, he’s gorgeous,” Ghost says. “You gonna close the deal on that or what, man?”

Ah, that is the question, isn’t it?

Blush discards the robe, letting it fall to the floor behind him as he walks out to center stage. He’s got us all captivated, silent as we wait for whatever he’s about to drop on us.

His eyes find mine and he blinks slowly, flicking his tongue out over his glossy lips before tilting his head back and raising one arm into the air. Then the music shifts to something more upbeat but heavy on the bass. It sounds like what good sex feels like, and I find myself completely sucked into his aura as he drops into the splits. When he rises again, he hooks his arms around an aerial ring that descends and climbs onto it.

I watch him move through his sensual routine, the way his muscles tense as he flips and twirls, the ripple of his abs, the strength of his thighs. He turns upside down and spins around, showing off his incredible ass, and my cock twitches again with interest.

I should definitely fuck him.

Don’t I deserve a little something nice?

It doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m sure a free spirit like Blush isn’t looking to be tied down either. We could just have a little fun and I could get over my fascination with him.