Senate before heading off to Dante's. The bag had gone into a locker at the ice rink, and the key had been stowed in a dark corner of Dante's lobby. The fact that Billy hadn't bitched about having to retrieve it showed that he shared my enthusiasm for getting certain items off our hands.
The ice rink is a popular spot on hot desert days, and the free-skate period had just started when we arrived. A crowd of tourists looking for a family-friendly activity and a smattering of locals streamed in the doors along with us, letting out a collective sigh of relief at the climate change. The rink had a sub shop, so Chavez offered to load up on fast food while I retrieved my bag. I offered to pay for the food, but he laughed and declined. 'Although I will be happy to quote you a price for other things,
I ran off before I was tempted to take him up on the offer. I ducked into a ladies' room and changed into sneakers, a wadded-up pair of khaki shorts and a bright red tank top. It wasn't the picture of elegance, but it beat my barefoot-and-sequins look. Even in Vegas that had garnered a few glances, despite Pritkin's blood being almost invisible on the crimson satin.
When I returned, Chavez was flirting with a dazed checkout girl, who had apparently forgotten that she was supposed to receive more than a smile in return for the two big bags she passed over. I was willing to bet that his living expenses were pretty low. 'Do I look okay?' I asked, wondering whether I'd gotten most of the evidence of the food fight off.
'Of course not.' He gave me a slow smile as his eyes took in my new ensemble.
Since my hair was sticky with cupcake residue and my clothes were wrinkled enough that a homeless person wouldn't have had them, I took that comment for what it was-a knee-jerk reaction. Chavez was probably literally incapable of insulting a woman, no matter how she looked. It would be bad for business.
'Thanks, can we-' I stopped, my heart in my throat, and stared across the rink at a man who had just skated onto the ice. For a split second I thought it was Tomas. He had the same slender, athletic build, the same waist- length black hair and the same honey-over-cream skin. It wasn't until a little girl stumbled onto the ice after him and he turned to catch her in his arms that I saw his face. Of course, it wasn't him. The last time I'd seen the real thing, he'd been trying to hold his head up on a broken neck.
'What is it,
I could have told him that seeing Tomas would be a lot more traumatic for me than seeing any ghost, but I didn't. My old roommate wasn't my favorite topic of conversation. He'd given Rasputin the keys to the wards protecting MAGIC in return for two things: help killing his master and control over me. The two went together, since his reason for wanting to get rid of his current master was so he'd be free to take out his old one. Considering that the vamp in question, Alejandro, was head of the Latin American Senate, Tomas had decided he'd need help. Maybe one day I'll meet a guy who doesn't think of me primarily as a weapon. Or, knowing my luck, maybe not.
Things hadn't gone quite the way Tomas had planned. I assumed he'd survived the battle, since a first-level master isn't easy to kill, but whether he'd eluded MAGIC's wrath I didn't know. But if he'd fought his way free, he was running for his life, not skating an afternoon away in full public view. 'It's nothing,' I said.
Chavez leaned on the railing beside me. 'A handsome man.
I shot him a glance. His expression was appreciative, even slightly predatory, as it followed the skating figure. 'Aren't you an incubus?' I'd been under the impression that they preferred female partners. I certainly hadn't seen any male patrons hanging about Casanova's.
Chavez gave a Latin shrug. 'Incubus, succubus, it's all the same.”
I blinked. 'Come again?”
'Our kind has no innate sex,
With his words came a swift tug of pure lust. It wasn't as overwhelming as Casanova's touch, nor did it get the attention of the
'Did I shock you?' He looked more amused than contrite. I could have told him that, after growing up at Tony's, not much shocked me anymore, but I settled for a shrug. 'It wouldn't be the first time,' he assured me. 'My lover is both male and a vampire, so I have developed… what is the term? A thick skin?”
'I didn't think vamps and incubi had much to do with each other.”
'We don't. I am considered quite perverse,' he said cheerfully.
I smiled in spite of myself. 'Can we go?”
Chavez tried to take the duffle, but I held on to it with the excuse that he was carrying the bags of food. If this offended his macho sensibilities, he didn't let it show. Once we were safely back in the car, I removed the stolen costume from the duffle after wrapping it around the remaining black boxes. I left the Graeae's empty one in place. I had plans for it.
'Casanova said he'd stick these in the house safe for me, and not charge the girl who, uh, loaned me the clothes.' I passed the bundle to Chavez as he turned over the engine.
'I'll see to it, although he may be busy for some time.' He slid a flirtatious glance my way. 'You left quite an impression,
Chavez pulled up to a seedy tattoo parlor where, presumably, Pritkin was getting cleaned up. He took my hand when I started to get out of the car. 'I do not know what you are planning,
I stammered out a negative, although he'd gotten it right and we both knew it. 'You have my card, yes? Call if you need assistance.' He grinned, teeth startlingly white against his smooth olive skin. 'Or anything else. For you, Cassie, my rates are negotiable.”
I laughed, and he drove off, burning rubber. It only occurred to me after he'd gone to wonder how he'd known my name. I'd never actually gotten around to introducing myself. I shrugged it off; Casanova must have told him.
Chapter 5
I went inside the store lugging my duffle and the bags of food. It was almost as hot as outside, with a rattling window air conditioner threatening to give its last wheeze at any moment. The desperate sound matched the rest of the decor, which consisted of stained ceiling tiles, dung brown carpet and a battered laminate counter. Only the hundreds of brightly colored tattoo designs adhered to almost every surface gave it life.
The counter separated the front from the back of the shop, which I couldn't see because a brown curtain cut off my view. There was no attendant in sight, so I rang the bell, frowning at an issue of
A few seconds later a skinny bald man with a long gray mustache appeared from behind the curtain. Except