I said nothing, staring as it started to make sense.
'You didn't know that, did you?' he added, and I shook my head, uncomfortable with digging into the whys of my relationship with Ivy. The car was getting cold, and I shivered.
'And showing your vulnerability probably upped your reputation, too,' he said. 'That you didn't feel threatened by them and let it happen.'
I looked at the boat sitting before us, decorated with blinking holiday lights. 'I didn't have a choice.'
He reached out and adjusted the collar of his coat about my shoulders. 'Yes, you did.'
Kisten's hand fell from me, and I gave him a weak smile. I wasn't convinced, but at least I didn't feel like so much of a fool. My mind went over the events, the slow slide from a relaxed state into sleep, and the attitudes of those around me. There hadn't been any laugher at my expense. I had felt comforted, cared for. Understood. And there hadn't been a flicker of blood lust coming from any of them. I hadn't known vampires could be like that.
'Line dancing, Kisten?' I said, feeling my lips quirk into a wry smile.
A nervous laugh came from him and he bowed his head. 'Hey, ah, could you not tell anyone about that?' he asked, the rims of his ears reddening. 'What happens at Piscary's stays at Piscary's. It's an unwritten rule.'
Being stupid, I reached out and ran a finger over the arch of his blood-reddened ear. He beamed, shifting to take my hand and brush his lips against my fingers. 'Unless you want to get yourself banned from there as well,' he said.
A shiver went through me at his breath on my fingers, and I pulled my hand away. His speculative look went right to my core, pulling my stomach into knots of anticipation. 'You looked good out there,' I said, not caring if it was a mistake. 'Do you have a karaoke night?'
'Mmmm,' he murmured, shifting in his seat to fall into his bad-boy slump against the door. 'Karaoke. There's an idea. Tuesdays are slow. We never get enough people to get a good buzz going. That might be just the thing.'
I turned my attention to the boat to hide my smile. The image of Ivy on stage singing 'Round Midnight' flitted through me and was gone. Kisten's attention followed mine to the boat. It was one of those remade riverboats, two stories tall and almost entirely enclosed. 'I'll take you home if you want,' he said.
Shaking my head, I tightened the tie on his coat, and the scent of leather puffed up. 'No, I want to see how you pay for a dinner cruise on an iced-over river with only sixty dollars.'
'This isn't dinner. This is the entertainment.' He went to toss his hair artfully aside, then stopped mid- movement.
The lights in my head started to go on. 'It's a gambling boat,' I said. 'That's not fair. Piscary owns all the gambling boats. You won't have to pay for a thing.'
'It's not Piscary's boat.' Kisten got out of the car and came around to my side. Looking good in his wool coat, he opened my door and waited for me to get out.
'Oh,' I said, more lights turning on. 'We're here checking out the competition?'
'Something like that.' He bent to look at me. 'Coming? Or are we going to leave?'
If he wasn't going to get his chips for free, it would be legal under our arrangement. And I'd never gambled before. It might be fun. Accepting his hand, I let him help me out of the car.
His pace was rapid as we hustled to the railed gangplank. A man in a parka and gloves waited at the foot of the ramp, and as Kisten talked with him, I glanced at the boat's water-line. Rows of bubbles kept the riverboat from becoming iced in. It was probably more expensive than taking the boat out for the winter, but city regulations stipulated you could only gamble on the river. And even though the boat was tied to the dock, it was on the water.
After speaking into a radio, the big man let us pass. Kisten put a hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward. 'Thanks for letting me borrow your coat,' I said as my boots clattered up and we found ourselves on the covered walk-way. Tonight's snow made a white icing, and I brushed it off the railing to make slushy clumps in the open water.
'My pleasure,' he said, pointing to a half wood, half glass door. There was an etched intertwined pair of capital S's on it, and I shuddered when a shimmer of ley line force passed through me when Kisten opened the door and we crossed the threshold. It was probably the casino's antitampering charm, and it gave me the willies, like I was breathing air coated in oil.
Another big man in a tux—a witch, by the familiar scent of redwood—was there to greet us, and he took both Kisten's and my coat. Kisten signed the guest book, putting me down as 'guest.' Peeved, I wrote my name below his with big loopy flourishes, taking up three entire lines. The pen made my fingers tingle, and I looked at the metal barrel before I set it down. All my warning flags went up, and while Kisten bought a single chip with most of our date allowance, I made a precise line through both my and Kisten's name to prevent our signatures from possibly being used as a focusing object for a ley line charm.
'And you did that because…' Kisten questioned as he took my arm.
'Trust me.' I smiled at the stone-faced witch in a tux handling the guest book. There were subtler ways to prevent such thefts of focusing objects, but I didn't know them. And that I had just insulted the host didn't bother me at all. Like I would ever be back there again?
Kisten had my arm so I was free to nod, as if I was important to anyone who looked up from his or her gaming. I was glad Kisten had dressed me; I'd have looked like a whore here in what I had picked out. The oak and teak paneling was comforting, and the rich green carpet felt scrumptious on my feet, clear through my boots. The few windows were draped with deep burgundy and black fabric, pulled aside to show the lights of Cincinnati. It was warm with the scent of people and excitement. The clatter of chips and bursts of sound quickened my pulse.
The low ceiling could have been claustrophobic, but it wasn't. There were two tables of blackjack, a craps table, a wheel, and an entire bank of one-armed bandits. In the corner was a small bar. Most of the staff was of the witch or warlock persuasion, if my gut instinct was right. I wondered where the poker table was. Upstairs, perhaps? I didn't know how to play anything else. Well, I could play blackjack, but that was for sissies.
'How about some blackjack?' Kisten said as he subtly guided me that way.
'Sure,' I said, smiling.
'Do you want a drink?'
I glanced at the surrounding people. Mixed drinks were the rule, except for the one guy with a beer. He was drinking it out of the bottle, and it ruined his entire look, tux aside. 'Dead Man's Float?' I asked as Kisten helped me up onto a stool. 'Double shot of ice cream?'
The hovering waitress nodded, and after getting Kisten's order, the older witch left. 'Kisten?' My gaze rose, drawn by an enormous disk of gray metal hanging from the ceiling. Ribbons of a shiny metal radiated from it like a sunburst, running to the edges of the ceiling. It could have been a decoration, but I'd be willing to bet the metal continued behind the wood paneling and even under the floor. 'Kisten, what is that?' I whispered as I nudged him.
His gaze flicked to the disk. 'Probably their security system.' His eyes met mine and he smiled. 'Freckles,' he said. 'Even without your spells, you're the most beautiful woman here.'
I blushed at his compliment—sure now that the enormous disk was more than art deco—but when he turned back to the dealer, I frantically looked at the mirror wall by the stairway. My shoulders slumped as I saw me in my sophisticated outfit with freckles and my hair starting to frizz. The entire boat was a no-spell zone—at least for us earth witches using amulets—and I suspected that big purple disk had something in there to hinder ley line witches, too.
Just having the boat on the water was some protection against ley line tampering since you couldn't tap a line over the water unless you went the roundabout way through a familiar. In all likelihood, the boat's security system dampened already invoked ley line spells and would detect anyone tapping a line through a familiar to invoke a new one. I had once had a smaller version on my long-gone I.S. issue cuffs.
While Kisten made nice with the dealer over his paltry fifty-dollar chip, I sat back and studied the people. There were about thirty, all well-dressed and most older than Kisten and I. A frown crossed me as I realized Kisten was the only vamp here: witches, Weres, and a few red-eyed humans up past their bedtime, but no vampires.
That struck me as wrong, so while Kisten doubled his money with a few hands, I unfocused my attention, wanting to see the room with my second sight. I didn't like using my second sight, especially at night when I could see an overlay of the ever-after, but I'd rather suffer a bad case of the heebie-jeebies than not know what was happening. I spared a thought wondering if Algaliarept would know what I was doing, than decided there was no
