“Thank you.”

  “I think this makes us even. We’ve each bought the other dinner twice. More or less. Next time you pick up the check.”

  “Fair enough. Although your appetite could bankrupt a rich man.”

  “That’s pretty close to what Mama used to say.” Peter gave a rakish grin. “And that was before the magic talents kicked in and I really got hungry.” He unwrapped a square of paper that proved to contain a hamburger, which he ate in several huge bites, dripping ketchup onto the floor. When he was through, he tossed the wrapper into a large paper bag and wiped his hands on a napkin. Ante caught himself wondering what it would be like to lick Peter’s greasy, sugary fingers clean. But neither his body nor his circumstances currently supported that idea.

  “Aside from beguiling a blood bank employee, what did you do?” Ante asked.

  “Shopped. New duds for you, ’cause much as I like you naked, the rest of the world doesn’t need to see you too.”

  “Those clothes lasted me only a few hours,” Ante said a bit mournfully. He didn’t like waste.

  “No worries. I got you something better. New stuff for me too, since rolling across roofs and flying over freeways did a number on mine. And food—I got that, but we’ve already covered that ground. I scored us wheels too.” He looked smug.

  Ante opened and closed his hands experimentally. The skin was too tight, but he could move the fingers. When he tried to move his legs, it became clear that sitting would be out of the question. “Elaborate, please.”

  “I saw this guy driving into the parking garage at the Wynn. Big Mercedes SUV, very fancy. I follow him inside, and when he gets out I see he’s dressed fancy too. He had these big gold rings on his fingers. You can tell he’s one of those people who needs to shout I’m rich! to everyone.”

  “You stole his car?”

  “I did not!” Peter looked offended. “I don’t steal. Exactly. I was just extra extra charming and he decided to give me the keys. And I also sort of suggested that he probably isn’t going to remember meeting me, and when he finishes gambling and finds the Benz gone, he’ll conclude someone ripped him off.”

  “You can do that?” Peter had a stronger power than Ante had realized. No wonder Lee wanted him.

  “Sometimes. Depends on the person. I figure maybe it’s like hypnotism, and some people are super suggestible but others aren’t. Like you—your mind is a blank to me and, um, when I tried to nudge you a bit, I got nada.”

  “Nudge me?” Ante repeated, alarmed.

  “When we very first met. Anyway, this guy was easy as pie. And his insurance’ll cover the loss.”

  “There are undoubtedly security cameras in the parking garage.”

  Peter frowned. “Oh. Yeah. Hadn’t thought of that.”

  “And the Shadows may have access to that footage. You do not want them to see what you are driving.”

  “Shit. No, we don’t want that.” Peter stood and wiped crumbs off his legs. “Fine. I’ll go trade ’er in. It’s too bad, ’cause she’s a sweet ride.” With a wave, he left the warehouse.

  Ante closed his eyes and waited to heal.

  PETER returned about two hours later. This time, he explained as he sat next to Ante, he’d abandoned the Mercedes not far from downtown, then bought something considerably more down-market from a used car dealer.

  “Bought?” Ante asked. He could move his arms now and lift his legs, but he couldn’t bend his knees.

  “Bought. With money.” There was that devilish grin again, as if he were a small child who’d played a good trick on someone. “Okay, three hundred bucks may be a hell of a deal for a five-year-old Taurus. But he’s a used car salesman! How many customers do you think he’s cheated over the years?”

  Ante sighed and decided a discussion of ethics was misplaced. “Thank you for taking care of these things.”

  “Of course. But, um, it’s almost dark. And you don’t look like you’re ready to roll.”

  “You should—”

  “Stow it. Not leaving without you.” He smoothed Ante’s eyebrow, which had mostly grown back. “When do you think you’ll be mobile?”

  Ante did some calculations and estimates. “Tonight, I think. But late.”

  “So we won’t get far before sunrise. And there’s mostly a whole lot of nothing around here, no matter which way we go. The desert isn’t good vampire country.”

  “Primm!” Ante exclaimed.

  “Huh?”

  “The town. At the California border, yes?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ve been through there. It’s just a few casinos and an outlet mall.”

  “But it is not in Vegas, and it is less than forty-five minutes away. We will be safe there for a day, I think. And more comfortable.” He patted the hard floor.

  “I’d love a hot shower and a decent bed. Preferably with you in it, intact. But what makes Primm so much safer than here?”

  Since they had time to kill, Ante told him a story. When Vegas had been run by mobsters instead of vampires, sometimes the mobsters had bodies to dispose of. They didn’t necessarily want to off-road in their flashy cars. So they’d take the bodies as far as Primm, where convenient parking lots edged right up to open desert. When the Mafia’s influence dimmed and the Shadows took over, Lee and his cohorts were hesitant to go anywhere near Primm. Unpleasant atmosphere, they said. Unsettled spirits. So they left it alone.

  Peter listened intently, munching on Goldfish crackers and M&M’s. After the story was over, he grinned. “So thanks to lazy mobsters and superstitious bloodsuckers, we get a hideout.”

  “Not for long. If the Shadows learn we are there, they will overcome their fears. But we should be safe for a day.”

  “And after that?”

  “I do not know.”

  Surprisingly, Peter seemed unconcerned. “Okay. At least we have the start of a plan. That’s way better than no plan at all.”

  Ante was no optimist, but with Peter stroking his skin again, agreeing felt easy. He gave a small smile before allowing himself to glide into sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  ANTE had managed to get to his feet and, with Peter’s slightly groping assistance, put on the new jeans. Instead of a T-shirt, Peter handed him a soft, forest green button-down and helped Ante fasten it. “You needed an update on your look,” he explained. “And this brings out the color of your eyes.”

  “I did not realize you were a fashion consultant.”

  “Maybe it’s my elfy genes. I grabbed you a couple T-shirts too, but this is better.” He gently smoothed his palm down Ante’s chest.

  At some point while Ante was asleep, Peter had changed into a clean pair of dark slacks and a lightweight maroon sweater. He looked good enough to eat. But when he put his jacket on, he frowned and reached into the inner pocket. “Shit!”

  “What?” Ante demanded.

  “Just….” Peter pulled out the photo, and bits of broken glass fell to the floor. “Broke.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “No big deal. The picture’s okay. I can always get a new frame.” He set the picture on the floor, took off the jacket, and shook it upside down to remove the rest of the glass. “Ow!” he said when he stuck his hand inside the pocket. He started to bring his finger to his mouth but stopped and leered at Ante. “A job for you.”

  Peter walked over and stuck his bleeding finger into Ante’s mouth. Ante took only a few drops, but they tingled deliciously. He could have sworn they did more to heal him than the several pints of packaged stuff he’d already consumed.

  Peter eventually put his jacket back on and settled the photo into the pocket. Since Ante’s footing was still uncertain, Peter carried the bag of purchases and the cooler through the broken door and into the night. Ante followed slowly.

  The car was white and unremarkable, although the interior smelled like old cigarettes and cheap perfume. Still, Ante was grateful to collapse into the passenger seat. Even the short walk had been a trial.

  “Have you been burned like that before?” Peter asked as he steered them toward the freeway.

  Ante leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Often?”

  “No. I am generally careful to avoid… such situations.”

  “Huh. But you get hurt in other ways. I saw that mark on your stomach last night. What was that?”

  “The wound is gone already. It was an unsuccessful attempt to intimidate me.”

  Peter made an unhappy noise but didn’t comment further.

  Soon they were flying down the freeway, the light traffic causing no impediment. Peter remained silent until they left the city limits, and when he spoke again, his voice was subdued. “Ante?”

  “Yes?”

  “Those screams you heard at the Conway. Are you sure it was the clerk? Screaming isn’t all that uncommon in that dump, in that neighborhood.”

  “I am certain.”

  “Oh.” Another pause. “Is he….”

  “Dead, most likely.”

  “Because of me.”

  “You are not at fault.”

  “Not directly, maybe. But still.”

  Ante sat straighter and set a hand on Peter’s leg. “Do you have any idea how many deaths I have on my conscience? Deaths I caused with my own hands, my own weapons, my own teeth. If I felt the blame for those I deserve, I would not be able to function at all.”

  “So you forget about them?”

  “Never!” That came out more forcefully than he’d intended. He softened his tone. “But I try to do better. To do no great harm.”

  “That’s why you didn’t sign on with the Shadows.”

  “That is why.”

  As the car hurtled through the last of the night, Ante made a confession. “I believe the Shadows found the Conway because of me.”

  Peter glanced at him, then back at the road. “They followed you?”

  “Perhaps, but not likely.”

  “Then how?”

  “Their… leader. Lee Drake—”

  “Sounds like the name of a soap opera star.”

  Ante squeezed Peter’s thigh. “This is serious. He may be able to… to track me. I do not know how far.”

  Another quick glance. “Do you have a chip or something?”

  “No,” Ante replied with a snort. “But he and I are connected by blood.”

  “What does that mean, connected by blood? You’re relatives?”

  “I made him. I found him and seduced him, I killed him, and I turned him.”

  For a few moments, Peter appeared to mull this over. “So… you’re like his vampire dad?”

  “I suppose. We were lovers for several years after I turned him.”

  “Incest. Sorta. But that didn’t stop any of the vamps in Buffy, so I guess it’s a cultural thing.”

  “The point, Peter, is that he may be able to sense where I am. And if I am with you….”

  “Yeah, I get it. But you already warned me the Shadows have eyes everywhere, so big deal. That’s no good reason to dump me.”

  “I will not dump you,” Ante assured him.

  “Good. You know, I’ve never had… anyone steady. Well, there was Mama and her unsteady self, but that was it. No boyfriends. No anyone.” He sounded wistful and young.

  “I will remain with you until you tell me to go. Or until I expire.”

  “Because you feel a sense of duty to me?”

  Ante squeezed again. “Because I wish to. It is the best decision I have made in a very long time.”

  “Even if you get stabbed and chased and burned?”

  “Even if.”

  THEY reached Primm with little time to spare and hurried into Buffalo Bill’s Casino. The rooms were cheap to begin with, but with a smile and flutter of his eyelashes, Peter convinced the clerk she didn’t need a credit card for a security deposit. She promised them a good view to the north and giggled when Peter thanked her. She somehow didn’t notice the still-scorched condition of Ante’s face and hands.

  “You are smooth,” Ante said as they walked across the lobby.

  “I don’t feel guilty about it, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “I am not. I see no reason you should feel guilty.”

  “Good.” They got into the elevator and Peter pushed the button for their floor. “’Cause I didn’t cost her a thing, and she came out of our little chat feeling flattered. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Peter. You know how I get by. I am not judging you.”

  “Okay.”

  Their room was large but otherwise unremarkable. Ante didn’t care—the bed promised relief for his fatigued and aching body. But apparently Peter had other plans. “Bathroom,” he ordered as soon as the door to the hallway closed.

  “I do not need—”

  “I’m going to run you a bath. You’ve got warehouse grit and Christ knows what else embedded in your skin. Think you can handle it?”

  Ante considered. “Perhaps. If the water is not too warm.”

  Nodding, Peter hurried to fill the tub. In the meantime Ante removed his clothes and took a quick look around. Nothing alarmed him; it was the most ordinary hotel room he’d ever seen. Peter waited in the bathroom, grinning and gesturing at the tub. “In you go.”

  The temperature was just right—cool enough to soothe his burned flesh, warm enough to be comforting. Because his body didn’t produce its own heat, he was always at the ambient temperature, and while he’d survived weeks in frigid weather that would have killed a human within hours, he preferred some warmth.

  “Okay?” Peter asked when Ante was seated.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Hang on a sec.” Peter hurried into the bedroom, dialed the phone, and rattled off a long room service order. On his return, he unwrapped the soap and looked at Ante questioningly. “I’ll be gentle.”

  Ante snorted. “I usually prefer a bit of roughness.”

  “When you’re back in one piece, I promise to deliver on that.” Peter cocked his head appraisingly. “Giving or receiving?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Peter’s laugh bounced softly in the room.

  Closing his eyes and leaning back against the tub, Ante luxuriated in Peter’s touch. To be honest, it stung a little, but he didn’t care. Nobody had ever cared for him this way—not his parents, who had neither time nor facilities for it; not Helena, whose ways tended toward the savage; not Lee, who had been too impatient for such things when he was freshly turned. It was almost worth getting burned if this was the outcome.

  “You’re smiling,” Peter observed.

  “A warm bath is such a luxury.”

  “I know. Mama and I lived in a lot of places where a bath meant standing outside with a bucket and sponge. Every time we landed someplace that had modern plumbing, I’d set up camp in the bathroom for days.”

  It was odd how much they had in common—a vampire born nearly two centuries ago and a young modern-day elf. Both had lost their families while young, relied on their bodies to support themselves, led rootless existences with few possessions. They could understand each other despite the potential gulfs between them.

  A knock sounded, startling them both until they remembered the room service order. Peter went to answer and returned a couple of minutes later with an overladen tray.

  “They brought me extra syrup,” he said happily, pouring nearly a half gallon of the sticky stuff over his pancakes. His breakfast also included french toast, sausages, bacon, some kind of sticky rolls, an omelet, and a bowl of cut fruit. He had two glasses of orange juice and one of cola.

  “Do you really get proper nutrients from your diet?” Ante asked. He’d seen malnutrition firsthand when he’d been human.

  “Dunno,” Peter said after swallowing. “Guess so. Mom fed me an eccentric diet when I was a kid, but I’ve literally never been sick. Not even a sniffle.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yep. And see my teeth?” He flashed them, straight and white. “Never been to a dentist, and I’m not exactly a religious flosser. Mom always claimed I was so healthy because she wrapped me in a blue aura, but I’m thinking the elf thing is probably more to credit.”

  Ante nodded distractedly. He realized he liked watching Peter eat, although God knew why. Maybe it was the mesmerizing movements of his throat or the way his tongue peeked out now and then to catch a bit of sweetness on his lips. Perhaps it was just the sheer enjoyment he always seemed to find in his food.

  “We’re low on cash,” Peter said, interrupting Ante’s reverie.

  “Mine burned?”

  “Money, wallet, jeans, skin. Yeah. But no big deal. We’ll get you tucked in; then I’ll head down to the casino and find a likely mark or two.”

  “You must be exhausted.”

  “I don’t need much sleep. But don’t worry—I’ll get in forty winks before sundown.”

  When Ante got out of the tub, Peter gingerly dabbed him dry with a towel, perhaps paying a bit more attention to Ante’s nether regions than strictly necessary. Ante didn’t mind. Peter made a minor production out of arranging pillows and blankets and then tucking Ante in as if he were a small child. “More blood?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then sleep and heal. I’ll be back soon.”

  After taking a few minutes to freshen up, Peter left. Ante hated the idea of Peter going out unguarded, but in Ante’s current state, he couldn’t protect him from a mob of purring kittens. Instead Ante followed Peter’s orders and effortlessly slipped into oblivion.

  He woke up an inestimable time later, a warm, fragrant body snuggled against him. “Good hunting?” Ante asked.

  Peter squished closer and flung a leg over Ante’s. “Very. I found Sharon, whose wife just left her for a—and I quote—floozy with the IQ of slime mold. So Sharon sold her expensive wedding ring and was on the way to Vegas with the intention of staying drunk and losing every damn penny.”

  “Hmm.” Ante turned his head so he could bury his nose in Peter’s soft hair. “You changed her mind?”