Author's note: I hate when friends fight. Especially Caroline and Kat — but Caroline is ready for some answers...whether she gets them is another matter. Thanks for reading; all of your continued support has been phenomenal!


Caroline had known panic before. One time, her second installment of The Naughty Neurotic series was completely erased from her hard drive and she had to piece the entire novel back together from emails. But that was nothing compared to the way her pulse started to race the longer she stared at the secret symbol. What was Katherine doing with this symbol? What did she know about the cult of Dionysus? What else was she hiding?

Klaus momentarily distracted her from her growing panic by brushing his lips gently along the back of her neck. She allowed herself to lean into his touch, carving out a moment for herself to be selfish and just enjoy the feel of him. Reassuring. Safe. She loved the way he made her feel these things and she hoped that he identified those things with her as well.

She trusted him — with her safety, with her heart. But not with this, she grimly realized. She knew that the moment she showed him what she'd found in Katherine's office, he'd immediately identify it as evidence and would haul in her friend for questioning. Those fucking vultures protesting outside Tomb would immediately converge on Katherine, and once word spread about the owner of the BDSM dungeon being linked to the murders, Katherine would be ruined. Even before Katherine had confessed her money woes to Caroline, she'd known how much Tomb meant to her. It was her life, a way for her to carve an identity for herself and the BDSM community she'd been a part of for so many years.

Telling Klaus about finding the symbol in Katherine's office was nothing less than a betrayal. She wouldn't do that to her friend. Unless she had no choice. Letting out an amused giggle, she lightly nudged Klaus' lips away from her skin, casually sliding the stationery with her toe until it was mostly underneath Katherine's desk. "As much as I'd enjoy another round, there's a scene that's about to start and I want to observe and see if there's any takeaways for my next chapter."

Shrugging, Klaus reached for his jeans, a sexy rumble in his voice as he told her, "I'd be delighted to join you, love. I must admit you've awakened a bit of a voyeur in me these days."

She finished retying her halter top, allowing an impish grin to tug at her lips as she replied, "As much as I'd enjoy the company, I suspect you aren't interested in watching your brother perform another round with Mason."

"Certainly not," he proclaimed with a disgusted scowl.

"Are you sure? Because I hear they're building on their earlier scene, only this time, Kol is intending to indulge in some sort of spur fetish..."

"Quite sure," Klaus said with a shudder, lightly kissing the tip of her nose as he finished getting dressed. "I think I'll head home then — perhaps you'll join me when you finish up here?"

Caroline's heart sank a bit under the weight of her guilt — the hopefulness of his voice and the way he trusted her lies left her a bit more broken than was comfortable. "Of course. I'll text you when I'm on my way," she answered, leaning over to kiss him soundly. She tried to communicate her feelings through that kiss, hoping that on some level, he was reassured that she was his. Even if she couldn't tell him the truth.

After Klaus left, she noticed her hands trembling slightly as she slipped on her booties, and she hated the part of herself that could lie so easily to someone she cared about. Realizing she had a job to do, she stubbornly shook her head, determined not to dwell on the devastating what-ifs that crowded her mind.

Judging by the trails of neon glitter and scattered piles of hay that she followed down one corridor, she'd just missed the indoor parade. A small group had convened around one of the remaining pony carts, with several trainers and their ponies engaging in sensory deprivation play using heavy bridles equipped with blinders. Caroline noticed Katherine standing off to the side, monitoring the play space to ensure the house rules were followed, and with a heavy sigh, tapped her on the shoulder.

Brown eyes regarded her mischievously as she teased, "Did my desk enjoy the ride? I hope the wobbly leg didn't throw off your dimpled pony."

"Call over another room monitor and then follow me," Caroline told her tersely, not bothering to wait for a response as she stomped off down the hall to one of the secluded chambers used for private scenes.

Katherine stormed in after her, slamming the door shut as she asked irritably, "What the fuck, Caroline? Did Detective dimples buck you off before he got you off?"

Reaching into the back pocket of her shorts, Caroline pulled out one of the crumpled pages that bore the cult symbol. "Explain," she growled lowly.

Long purple nails snatched away the page, quickly secreting it away as though afraid someone might see even though it was just the two of them in the room. She snapped, "You know, if Klaus can't fuck the nosy bitch out of you, maybe it's time to rethink this vanilla monogamy bullshit."

She'd recognized the defensiveness of her friend's body language and hadn't been surprised by the ugly attack — it was typical of Katherine whenever she felt threatened. But what made Caroline's eyes narrow was the way Katherine had immediately shoved the stationery out of sight. Clearly she didn't want that symbol to leave Tomb. Good thing I grabbed another page. "Don't pull that shit with me, Kat. You're trying to piss me off so I'm too distracted to get my answers." She lowered her voice to an angry whisper. "Now, what do you know about that symbol and why the hell do you have it?"

"If you have to ask, you aren't supposed to know. So, do yourself a favor and stop asking."

Caroline scoffed, "You don't want to talk — fine. Since I found it in your office, I bet it's somehow related to Tomb business and there's at least a couple of guests I can ask." She marched toward the door, but Katherine grabbed her arm before she made it more than a couple of steps.

"No," her friend told her in a strangled voice, "Don't. You don't know the people that associate with that mark. You don't want to know them."

She shook her head. "Not good enough, Kat. Give me answers or I'll get them on my own."

There was something behind that angry gaze she couldn't quite place, but it made Caroline shiver as Katherine revealed, "It's a secret group — made up of elite, powerful people. I only know a few of the members, but it's best to stay off their radar. Tomb has hosted a few of their private events. That's all I know and that better be all you know too."

From the defiant way she clenched her jaw, Caroline knew Katherine was done talking. With a curt nod, Caroline stepped around her, pausing briefly when Katherine muttered, "Sorry about the whole...you know, what I said."

Caroline snorted, "No, you're not. But later, after you pull your head out of your ass, you will be. And then we'll be cool," she promised.

"That's well-toned ass!"


As Caroline walked away, she mulled over what little Katherine had revealed. She supposed it wasn't a surprise to learn about the Dionysus cult was affiliated with Tomb — secret sex-worshipping cults and an underground sex dungeon seemed like a perfect match. She noticed her friend purposely had avoided naming the few members she knew. But it was likely that those cult members she knew were the same powerful connections she called whenever the protestors made trouble for her with the city council. Katherine obviously knew more than she was saying. But how much did it have to do with the murders? Did she know the murderer? Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn't realize someone was calling her until she reached the front entrance.

Kol jogged over, still wearing his festive blue leather and peacock feather pony outfit. He was waving a piece of paper in the air, and as he came closer, Caroline realized with a sinking feeling that the extra stationery page must have fallen out of her pocket. "You dropped your book notes. On paper too — you're quite the old-fashioned little bird, aren't you?"

As she fought to adopt a casual expression, he seemed to do a double-take as he looked more closely at the stationery. "That's a naughty little symbol used by ancient sex cults. In between bouts of right-soused orgies, those barmy bastards would rip apart poor blokes who happened upon them." Cocking his head, he asked, "What scandalous business are you getting up to for your books these days, hmm?"

Caroline felt her heart pound. She realized she knew Kol — she'd been coming to the club and interviewing him for years — but she didn't know him. And the fact that he seemed to know so much about the symbol when Klaus had informed her he'd never mentioned it to his brother left her feeling unsettled. Putting on her brightest smile, she winked and told him, "Don't worry — your brother and I always stretch first." She forced herself to use slow, casual movements to take the heavy cream-colored page from Kol.

He laughed, tugging on his bridle and waggling his eyebrows comically. "I tip my bridle to you for getting my brother to shag outside your box, Caroline. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mason and I are off to do a bit of stretching ourselves."

As she watched a boisterous Kol link arms with Mason and steer him out of Tomb, she couldn't shake the growing feeling of dread.


It wasn't until that terrible call woke her and Klaus at an ungodly hour and she met his worried gaze that she understood. This was far from over.