Although Phil knew about Vanda's nightclub, he'd never been inside before. The entrance to the Horny Devils was hidden at the dead end of a dark alley to keep unsuspecting mortals from stumbling across the place.

A huge bouncer stood guard at the dark red door. His nostrils flared as he took a sniff. Phil knew he didn't carry the usual mortal scent. Since most Vamps didn't know about shape shifters, they didn't realize the significance of his different scent. They simply thought he was a strange-smelling mortal.

"Place is closed," the bouncer grumbled. "Get lost."

"I'm here to see Vanda Barkowski."

"You know Vanda?" The bouncer took another sniff, and his beady eyes narrowed. "You're an odd duck."

"Not even close." Phil showed his MacKay Security & Investigation ID card, knowing the Vamp bouncer could see it in the dark. "I'm returning Vanda's car. She left it at Romatech."

The bouncer still eyed him suspiciously. "I'll have to frisk you."

"Fine." Phil raised his arms to shoulder height so the bouncer could pat his navy polo shirt and khaki pants—the MacKay uniform for guards who didn't wear kilts.

"What's this?" The man patted his pants' pocket.

"It's a chain. Silver."

The bouncer jerked his hand away. He hesitated, then asked, "You're not planning on using it on anyone?"

"No." Phil smiled, understanding the bouncer's predicament. The Vamp couldn't confiscate the silver chain without giving himself severe burns. Luckily for Phil, silver was only painful when introduced internally, as in silver bullets. "You can call Connor Buchanan at Romatech if you want to check on me."