"To El Gaucho?"

  I hung up.

  I was working my hair over with a curling iron later on when I heard knocking at my front door. Walking toward the living room, I felt immortal signatures on the other side. Fortunately, there was nothing musky or slimy here. These were familiar and welcome.

  Of course, they weren't exactly welcome tonight.

  "What are you guys doing here?" I asked, opening the door to admit Peter, Cody, and Hugh. My three stooges. The dwarves to my Snow White. "And why do you always show up when I'm about to go out?"

  Like always, they made themselves comfortable in my living room without any further invitation. Cody handed me a slip that had been stuck to the door from my building's office manager, saying I had a package. I made a mental note to pick it up the next time the office was open.

  "We're going over to that place that makes the unholy margaritas," he said. "Thought we'd stop by and see if you wanted to go."

  "And here you are, ungrateful and mean," said Peter. He glanced around the living room. "I don't see a Christmas tree here."

  Hugh was eyeing my red-silk robe. "You going out in that?"

  "Of course not. I'm just getting ready, that's all."

  The three of them exchanged looks.

  "Is it business or Seth?" asked Hugh.

  "Seth."

  "Damn it," swore Peter. He pulled some crumpled money out of his pocket and handed it to Hugh.

  "You guys bet on my love life?"

  "Yeah," said Hugh. "All the time. You should see the stakes we've got riding on when you and Seth are finally going to sleep together."

  "Well, keep 'em riding, cowboy. It's not going to happen." I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall near my TV. "Of course, Niphon's trying pretty hard to make it happen. Is he in on the bet?"

  "Not yet. What's he doing?" asked Cody.

  I told them about the offer Niphon had made for Seth's soul. To my surprise, they didn't share my shock and outrage.

  "I don't know," said Hugh slowly. "I've kind of thought about that before."

  I gaped. "Thought about what before? Buying Seth's soul?"

  "Sure. It's what I do, and hey, if it'd help you…"

  "Oh dear lord."

  "But if you decide to do it," said Hugh warningly, "come to me first. I can beat any offer Niphon makes."

  "If you broker the deal, you're disqualified for the bet," warned Peter.

  "Hey!" cried Hugh. "That's not right."

  "Sure it is. You'd have an unfair advantage—"

  "Christ. Be quiet, all of you. I can't believe you guys are seriously talking about buying my boyfriend's—"

  A new signature swept through to us. A scent liked candied apples. Warm honey on the skin.

  "Tawny," we all said in unison.

  I opened the door, and Tawny threw herself into my arms, bawling. I yelped and tried not to fall over.

  "Oh, Georgina," she sobbed, mascara running in black rivers down her cheeks. "I'm never going to do it. Never ever ever."

  I tried to pull out of her Amazonian embrace. "There, there," I said weakly. "I'm sure you will."

  Sniffling, she stepped away and ran a hand over her eyes, making the mascara situation even worse. "No, I can't. I've tried and tried…nothing works."

  I glanced over at the guys. They were all looking at me expectantly, like I should be able to explain how one succubus couldn't get laid. I doubted anyone could, though.

  "Okay," I said at last. "Calm down, and we'll get to the bottom of it. But first, pull yourself together. You're a mess."

  "I can't," she wailed.

  "You're thinking like a human," I chastised. "You can shape-shift that makeup mess away."

  "No," she said more adamantly. "You don't understand. I can't."

  I stared at her, puzzled, then I understood. It was nearly impossible to see, but a faint shimmer was fading in and out around her body. She was having trouble holding this form. Her energy was so low that she was losing her shape-shifting power.

  "Whoa," I said. I'd never seen a succubus that bad. I'd been that low once, but it had been after engaging in a major battle of shape-shifting.

  Tears started welling up in her eyes again. "What's going to happen? What if I run out and—" On and on she went.

  I sighed. There is a moment in every girl's life when she must choose between the lesser of evils. When you're a succubus, those moments come quite often. And right now, I had to choose. I could risk Niphon never leaving town or I could kiss Tawny.

  Lesser of evils.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to hers and cut off her babbling. Her lips tasted like bubble gum, probably from the lip gloss. It wasn't a big kiss or anything—barely any tongue—but it was enough. A surge of power poured out of me and into her. Breaking the kiss, I stepped away and looked at her. Her form had stabilized. Meanwhile, I was now down even more in my own energy, but nowhere near the low she'd just experienced.

  Her blue eyes widened to an impossible size. "How…what was that?"

  "A kiss," I said dryly. "Something you've apparently got to learn about too." Seeing her still-stunned look, I shook my head. "We're vessels for power and life, Tawny. Usually, it passes into our bodies, but sometimes it can be transferred out to other creatures. Succubi and incubi can share it with each other. What I just gave you should keep you going a little longer."

  "I don't know," said Cody suddenly. "I think you should give her some more, just to be safe."

  Tawny touched her lips, like she could still feel my kiss. "Wow." Her form shifted, and the mascara mess vanished. Her normal, eerily perfect face reappeared.

  I sat down on the arm of the couch, near Peter. "Okay. Now let's figure out how in the world this is even possible. What happened to Nick the auctioneer? You guys seemed pretty close last night."

  "Well," she mumbled, staring down at her feet. "That kind of fell apart."

  "How could it fall apart? He was drooling all over you!"

  "Yeah, but he had to stay and close up there, so we couldn't go out last night. I left without him. Today, I called to set up a date, and he said he didn't want to. That he was cool just giving the money to charity and not to bother with anything else."

  "He said that?" I asked incredulously. I eyed her suspiciously. "What did you say to him beforehand?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Did you just call and ask him out right away?"

  "Well, no…we made small talk. Not that it did much good. He seemed kind of bored by the end."

  Surprise, surprise. Tawny didn't strike me as the world's greatest conversationalist. I could only imagine what she must have babbled about to scare him off.

  "Okay," I said, disappointed. Nick had seemed like a sure thing. "Maybe you shouldn't, like, talk to them. What about the strip club job? Did you follow up on that?"

  She jerked her head up and looked like she might cry again. "I tried! They said I wasn't qualified."

  Even the guys couldn't stay out of this now.

  "How can you not qualify for a job as a stripper?" asked Cody.

  "Yeah, don't you just have to take off your clothes?" asked Hugh.

  "They said I couldn't dance," she explained.

  We all stared.

  "Okay…" I wondered if maybe I should have read the mentor's handbook after all. "Let's see it."

  "See what?"

  "You. Dancing."

  Tawny looked around the room in terror. "Here?" she squeaked. "In front of all of you?"

  "If you can't take your clothes off in front of your friends," said Peter, "who can you take them off in front of?" I elbowed him.

  "I can't," she whispered.

  "Tawny," I barked. My voice held the authority of a drill sergeant. She jumped. "I am not making out with you until the end of time. You want to do this, then you've got to work for it. Now, take off your clothes."

  "Oh," said Hugh. "I've waited ten years to hear you say that to another woman."

  I found my stereo remote and turned it on. "Tainted Love" started playing.

  "I can't strip to the eighties!"

  "Tawny!"

  With a terrified look in my direction, she moved to the center of the living room. At first, she just kind of stood there, and then, slowly, she tried to step in time to the music. I say tried because she was so off the beat, it was astonishing. I don't think I could have been that out of sync if I'd tried. Finally, she gave up moving her feet at all and simply focused on her upper body, swaying her arms and torso slightly. It was the most awkward, uncomfortable spectacle I'd ever seen.

  At last, she decided she'd "danced" enough and began removing her clothing. She apparently couldn't multitask, however, and gave up all pretenses of moving to the music. Instead, she stood still and started unbuttoning her zebra-print blouse. Her fingers fumbled on the third button down, and it took her almost thirty seconds to unfasten it.

  "Stop, please stop," I said, turning off the music. "Your goal is to take years off people's lives, but not like this."

  "Was I bad?" she asked.

  "No," I said. "You were terrible."

  She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

  "Oh, come on," said Cody, ever the kindly one in our group. "That's kind of mean."

  "Hey, I'm supposed to be a teacher, not a friend."

  "The School of Georgina is a harsh one," intoned Peter solemnly.

  "It's not that easy," Tawny said, looking at me accusingly. "If you really are my teacher, then show me how to do it."

  Four faces watched me expectantly. I started to protest, then remembered that helping Tawny meant Niphon would leave Seattle that much faster. Getting up off the couch arm, I took her place in the center of the room.

  "Okay, first off, you're missing two things. One, listen to the music and move with it. There's a beat. Find it. Move your feet and your body—your whole body—to it. Become part of it." Tawny's blank look told me I was getting too esoteric for her. "Then, when it comes time to take off your clothes, remember that you're not doing it to be practical. You're doing it for someone else. Make it dramatic. Make it artful."

  I turned the stereo on and clicked to the next track on my mix CD. It was "Iron Man."

  "Hey!" Tawny said. "How come you get metal?"

  "Not even you can strip to Ozzy," scoffed Hugh.

  I gave him a sidelong glance. "I can strip to anything, baby."

  I started moving. For me, there was no thought required at all. I'd been a dancer since my mortal days. I loved it. There was no music. There was no me. We were the same being. My body flowed to its melody and rhythm, every one of my movements graceful and sensual. I didn't even pay attention to my friends. I just let myself get lost in the dance.

  I didn't have much on to begin with. I had panties and a bra underneath the robe, but I intended to leave them on. I was close to my friends but not that close. But, I made the most out of taking off the robe, letting my hands slide over my silk-covered body. I slowly untied the sash, drawing the experience out, and finally let it slip to the floor. I took my heels off with equal deliberateness.

  Literally never missing a beat, I told Tawny, "When you've got this down, we'll move onto lap dances."

  I moved over to where Hugh sat on the loveseat and positioned my legs so that I straddled him while barely touching him. A stripper's art. I ran my fingers through my hair, my body still rippling like a ribbon.

  "Hey, big spender," I said.

  He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.

  "Hugh," I said. "Don't insult me."

  With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap.

  "Hey, Seth," Cody suddenly said.

  I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. When Tawny had come barreling through, I'd left the door ajar. A look of comic bemusement was on his face.

  "Hey," he said, studying me. "So…you're paying for dinner?"

  I crawled off Hugh's lap and pulled the five out of my strap. "Only if you want to go to Taco Bell."

  Cody handed me a twenty. "Make it a Red Lobster."

  My friends got up and moved toward the door, and I assured a distraught Tawny that I'd think of something to help her. Giving up any more attempts at manually getting ready, I shape-shifted into jeans, low boots, and another cashmere sweater. A three-quarter-length gray wool coat covered it all. I grinned at Seth, who was shaking his head ruefully. Compared to the other things he knew I did, an impromptu striptease was pretty low-key.

  "And you thought I didn't earn my keep."

  "No comment," he said, taking hold of my hand.

  CHAPTER 9

  "I don't understand this," said Seth good-naturedly. "I catch you stripping in front of other men, yet I'm the one who gets punished."

  Clasping his hand, I led him onto the ice skating rink. Just like with dancing, I glided with practiced ease. Seth's movements were jerky and uncertain. Without my hand, I suspected he would have fallen already.

  "This is good for you, Mortensen. You sit at a desk—or table or whatever—all day. This'll get your muscles working again. Get the old blood pumping."

  His teasing smile turned into a grimace, his hold on my hand turning into a death grip. "There are a hundred other ways I could do that."

  "But none as fun," I assured him.

  Seth was brilliant and funny, but coordinated he was not. During the early days of our acquaintance, I'd tried to teach him to dance. It had been grueling. After a very long time, he'd learned the basic steps, but the process had never been easy—or, I suspected, enjoyable—for him. I'd let him off easy since then, only making him go out dancing once. He'd grown complacent now, which was why I felt this experience would be so good for him.

  "Men were not meant to wear blades on their feet," he told me as we trudged further toward the rink's center. We were outdoors, at a small park, and our breathing made frosty clouds in the air.

  "Women weren't meant wear to stilettos," I told him. "But you don't hear me bitching about it."

  "That's different. They do great things for your legs. This? This just makes me look stupid."

  "Well, then," I said. "You better learn. Time to take off the training wheels." I released his hand.

  "Hey! What the—"

  But I was gone, slipping away from his grasp with a laugh. He stood there frozen while I skated away, circling the rink in graceful loops and figure eights. After a few rounds, I skated back up to him, finishing with a neat pirouette. He hadn't moved from the spot where I'd left him, but he no longer appeared annoyed.

  "Look at you," he said, touching my face. "Rosy cheeks. Snowflakes in your hair. You're the Snow Queen."

  "God, I hope not. That's a depressing story. Hans Christian Andersen had issues."

  "All writers have issues," he assured me.

  I laughed and took his arm, leading him around in more awkward skating. My legs and feet protested the slow movement, but the rest of me was happy to have quality time with Seth.

  "Speaking of writers with issues," I said. "How can I get in trouble for stripping in front of other men when you have a date with another woman?"

  If not for the fact he would have fallen over, I suspect Seth would have elbowed me. "That's your own fault," he said. "You made me do it, so don't get all jealous now."

  "I'm not jealous—but I think Maddie does have a crush on you."

  "Unlikely. It's probably just author worship." He gave me a pointed look. "Like some people I know. If anything, she's got a crush on you."

  "Oh, for God's sake, stop with the lesbian fantasy thing."

  "Nah, nothing like that. She just idolizes you, that's all. You're chipping away at that insecure exterior of hers, and I think she's starting to really see how much she's capable of. You're sort of setting the example."

  I hadn't considered that. "Really?"

  "Yup. Keep training her up, and we'll have a mini-Georgina on our hands." Seth chuckled as we made a painstakingly slow turn. "Between her, that new succubus, and my nieces, you should start a Ladies Finishing School. How can you be such a good influence and have such a…"

  "Demeaning job?" I supplied.

  "Something like that. Of course, I suppose it could be worse."

  I gave him a sidelong glance. "Could it?"

  "Yeah, you could, like, sell Amway or be trying to get me to move large amounts of money out of Nigeria."

  "Definite deal breakers in any relationship," I said solemnly.

  He looked over at me, rather brave considering the intense attention he'd been giving his feet. Under the rink's soft lights, his expression was tender. His lips curled into a small, fond smile, and his eyes shone with an affection that almost made me go weak in the knees. Maybe it was a trick to get me to fumble my skating. It nearly worked.

  "For you?" he said, coming to a stop. "It might be worth it."

  "Worth cleaning out your bank account?"

  "Yes."

  "Worth being part of a pyramid scheme?"

  "They say they don't do that anymore."

  "What if they're lying?"

  "Thetis," he said with a sigh. "I'm going to say something to you I've never said before."

  "What is it?"

  "Be quiet."

  And then he leaned down and kissed me, bringing warmth to my cold lips. Nearby, I heard children giggle at us, but I didn't care. I felt the kiss down to my toes. It was brief, like always, but when Seth pulled away, my whole body was filled with heat. Every nerve in me tingled, alive and wonderful. I barely noticed the chilly temperature or the way our breathing formed frosty clouds in the air. He laced his fingers through mine and lifted my hand to his lips. I had gloves on, but he kissed exactly where I wore his ring.

  "Why are you so sweet?" I asked, my voice small. My heart beat rapidly, and every star peeping through the clouds seemed to be shining just for me.

  "I don't think I'm that sweet. I mean, I just told you to be quiet. That's one step away from asking you to wash my laundry and make me a sandwich."

  "You know what I mean."

  Seth pressed another kiss to my forehead. "I'm sweet because you make it easy to be sweet."

  We linked arms again and continued our circuit. I had a sappy urge to rest my head against his shoulder but figured that might be asking too much of his coordination.