A/N: This is DaxisSteele's continuation of my story. I never intended to make it a series, but she had an idea, so I let her continue it. I will forward all reviews to her.


She wasn't sure why she came back. The mission was over, Logan had his bad guy and she had no reason to subject herself to this humiliation, but the money was too good to turn away from the work.

Part of her knew that this was the last place she should be found considering the enemy let her walk out of here just twenty four hours ago. Despite logic, there was something drawing her back into that club, something primal.

The chance that he would return to find her again was an adrenaline rush in a sick and twisted way and after feeling dead so long a sliver of her soul needed that thrill.

She needed the seductive danger that he provided.

"Max, hey girl. They're playing your song."

She turned idly toward one of the other dancers. She hadn't bothered to ask their names and found it even less important now that she was no longer working for Logan. Asking their names would show interest and interest was something she was trying to avoid in this place.

It was wrong to be stooping to this level for the money, even for the rush, but she took seductive steps onto the stage none the less. Dozens of wolf whistles and callused comments flew from the audience, but her mind shifted them out of focus.

Her eyes were closed as she brushed her fingers along the metal pole running along the ceiling. She could feel him in the room; feel the thumping of his heart in time with the music. The knowledge sent a spike of adrenalin through her veins and she allowed a coy smile to dance across her sultry lips.

She swayed her way across the stage, dancing with the ghost of him rooted firmly in front of her. She could vaguely hear the gasps in the audience as the hands in her fantasy directed the blade in her hand to the straps of her corset.

Her eyes slid open like oily pools of seduction and she found him sitting right in front of her with the same amused expression he graced her with the previous night. Slowly the tip of the blade slid along her oil slicked skin as her body coiled and stretched like a cobra dancing to the pipers tune. The irony of the image wasn't lost on her.

She felt rather than saw him drift forward in his seat and she brought her lips close to the shell of his ear.

"Having fun 452?"

"Just reminding you of what you can never have." With laughter in her eyes, she straightened to full height and let the knife fly.

He was lucky that he wasn't as unaffected by her display as his comment seemed or the blade would have sliced through more than just the material of his trousers. With a smirk born of challenge, he watched her work her way back stage and fought the urge to return her forgotten blade with vengeance.

Impressed with the performance given his presence, he pulled out his cell and dialed a number. "She's not here." He snapped the phone closed and left the bar with an anticipatory bounce in his step.

Tonight was a perfect night for a chase.