Claimed by Shadow

Billy had been helping me pick up living-expense money by making sure dice and roulette balls fell where I wanted. I didn't feel good about it, but I hadn't dared to access my checking account or credit cards for fear that someone would trace me. I could stop by an ATM now that everyone and their brother knew I was in Vegas, but I'd lied about needing to shop. I'd stuffed a change of clothes in a duffle along with my purse and the loot from the 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, querida.”

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. "¡Estás bonita! You will always stand out.”

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, querida? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

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 pla

Chavez leaned on the railing beside me. "A handsome man. Muy predido, a turn-on, as you Americans say.”

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 i

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 geis as his briefly had. It was a simple invitation, no more, no less-the knowledge that any advance I chose to make would be received with delight and would end in pleasure. It made me furious, but not with him. It drove home the point that, as things stood, I had less control over my love life than a nun. Even if I lost my head and decided to exchange a lifetime of slavery as Pythia for a brief fling, I couldn't. Literally couldn't, unless I wanted to risk going crazy. Mircea had seen to that.

"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, querìda. I think Dante's will never be the same." He casually tossed the bundle in the back seat, and I suppressed a wince as it bounced on the padded leather. I wondered, not for the first time, whether I shouldn't put the boxes back in the locker and call MAGIC with their location. But with the Senate facing war, I didn't trust them not to decide that they needed some extra help and turn whatever was inside them loose. Casanova wouldn't want any more guests like the Graeae ru

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 pla

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 gri