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 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. 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 innate sex, querìda. At the moment, I inhabit a male body, but I have possessed women at times. It is much the same to me." His eyes gleamed as he leaned closer, trailing a warm finger down my cheek. It was a light touch, but it caused me to shiver. "Pleasure is pleasure, after all.”
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 running around, so the boxes were probably safe with him. At least until I could figure out what to do with them.
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, querida, but be careful. Mages, they are never to be fully trusted, you understand? And this one especially. When dealing with him, remember: 'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.' " I stared in surprise at the quote, and he laughed. "What did you think, that I was merely good looks?”
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 Crystal Gazing that was in full view on the counter. The self-proclaimed guardian of free speech in the supernatural community had its usual screaming headline: dracula sighted in vegas-the scourge of Europe alive! Yeah, he was probably sitting by the pool at Caesar's, eating Moon Pies with Elvis. I tucked it out of sight under the counter, thankful that no one had yet dug up my name. I had enough problems-I didn't need the paparazzi, too.
A few seconds later a skinny bald man with a long gray mustache appeared from behind the curtain. Except for the parts hidden by a pair of cutoff jeans, he was covered in tattoos from his scrawny neck to the tops of his flip-flop-clad feet. Even stranger, the inked images moved. The cobra coiled around his neck paused to flicker a tongue in my direction, while a painted lizard crept across his forehead before catching sight of me and scuttling away behind his left ear. The eagle on his chest flapped its outstretched wings lazily, eyeing me out of a single dark eye.