"You're like my fairy godmother," she muttered as we walked into the hotel the event was being held at. "But I'm still a pumpkin."

  I elbowed her. "How did you get so negative? You should start some angstful emo rock band to compete with Doug's."

  "Oh, yeah. That'd go over—hey, is that Seth?"

  We were cutting across the open room the auction would take place in, heading toward the volunteers' area. Lots of people had gathered, filling most of the round tables facing the stage. I followed her gesture to where Seth sat at one of the few tables that wasn't already full. Seeing us notice him, he held up his hand in greeting.

  "He wanted to come support you," I told her. Actually, Seth had been appalled at me strong-arming Maddie into this and had attended mainly out of a perverse fascination at what he thought might end in disaster.

  But Maddie, not knowing his motives, was pleasantly surprised. She smiled, and I nearly swooned.

  "That," I said. "That right there is what you need to do."

  The smile dropped. "That what?"

  Hugh practically skipped over when he saw us. "I knew you didn't hate kids. I knew you'd cave and come help—"

  "Not me," I said. "Maddie." I rested a hand on her shoulder.

  Hugh's face turned perfectly blank. "Oh?"

  Just then, a tall brunette in a black satin evening dress strolled over. The "fucking fox," presumably. She extended her hand. "Hello, I'm Deanna, the coordinator. You must be Hugh's friend?"

  "Georgina," I said, shaking. "But Maddie here is your volunteer. She's a journalist for an important women's magazine."

  Deanna's eyes lit up. "Ah! We love celebrities. Let me take down your information."

  She led Maddie away. As soon as they were gone, Hugh turned on me. "What the hell? I wanted Georgina, and you give me Georgy Girl."

  "You are such an asshole. That's a horrible thing to say."

  He shrugged, eyes on Maddie. "I call 'em like I see 'em. She's huge."

  My eyes were on Maddie too. She actually looked quite slim in the dress, but Hugh was one of those guys who liked bony types—so long as their chests were big enough.

  "You're the reason women have such horrible self-esteem issues. You tear them apart. Women, I mean. Not the issues."

  "Look, I'm sure she's not all bad," he said. "She probably gives good head."

  I rolled my eyes. "Flatterer. Why do you say that?"

  "Fat girls always do. They have to. Only way they can get men."

  I punched him in the arm. Hard.

  "Ow! Fuck, that hurt."

  "You're a jerk," I told him. "Maddie's beautiful."

  "She's okay," he said, rubbing his injured arm. "And I can't exactly have just okay tonight—not with that liability already on deck."

  He pointed over to where some of the other volunteers waited. Immediately, I found what he referred to. It was easy because Tawny towered over the other women by about a foot.

  "Holy Christ," I said. "How did that happen?"

  He threw up his hands, looking miserable. "She latched on to the idea when you mentioned it at the bar."

  "I didn't even think she heard me," I said apologetically.

  Hugh waved me toward the crowd. "Too late now. Go have a seat, Brutus, so this disaster can get under way. You've ruined the night. I don't know why you hate kids so much."

  I gave him a parting glare and went off to find Seth. The vampires had joined him since I'd come in.

  "You guys here to get a date or a victim?" I asked.

  "Neither," said Peter. "We're here to see the Tawny Show."

  I sighed. "This is supposed to be a charity event, and people are treating it like a freak show. Hugh already accused me of ruining it by bringing Maddie."

  Seth looked surprised. "Why? She looks great."

  I pointed her out to Peter and Cody, who also concurred about her cuteness. "She'll be fine," said Cody. "Tawny's going to be the one to watch. I haven't really been able to see what she's wearing. I hope it's up to her usual standards."

  "Maybe her Secret Santa will get her some nicer clothes," said Peter. He glanced at me. "You bought for yours yet?"

  "Huh?" Right. Carter. I'd completely forgotten. Buying something for that cynical angel hadn't exactly been at the top of my priority list. "I, um, have some ideas. Still thinking about it."

  "What about a Christmas tree? You got one of those?"

  "Um, haven't done that either."

  "I didn't know you wanted a Christmas tree," said Seth. "Do you need help picking one out?"

  "Well, I don—"

  The auction started, cutting me off. The auctioneer, Nick, was a young guy in his early thirties who probably had a second job doing minor modeling contracts that would never actually get him out of Seattle. He smiled non-stop and did a good job flirting with the women and making guy-jokes to the men. Bids flew fast and furious, and it was easy to get caught up in the excitement.

  "Next up," said the auctioneer, reading from a card, "is Tawny Johnson."

  "Johnson?" asked Cody. "Kind of boring."

  "She made up both her names," I said. Succubi often did. "She probably didn't have any mental energy left after choosing the first one."

  "Ouch," said Seth. "Who's being mean now?"

  "You haven't met her," I warned.

  Tawny pranced up, wearing seven-inch high-heeled shoes that appeared to be made out of stainless steel. They looked like medieval torture devices but matched her super-tight, silver lamé hot pants and jacket.

  "She didn't disappoint," said Cody, studying the outfit.

  Unsurprisingly, she stumbled the last couple of steps, and Nick reached out to steady her.

  "Careful there," he said, flashing his brilliant white teeth. "Men are supposed to fall all over you."

  It took her a moment to get the joke, and then she burst into small, high-pitched giggles. The noise grated on my nerves, but Nick seemed quite pleased to have someone appreciate his jokes.

  "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself, Tawny," he said. "It says here you're currently unemployed. Does that mean you're out looking for something right now?"

  "Well, Nick, I'm out looking for someone right now—if you know what I mean."

  "Oh my God," I said.

  "That was kind of funny," Peter noted.

  "No, it wasn't."

  Nick apparently agreed with Peter. He threw back his head and laughed. "Careful there, guys…we got a dangerous one on our hands. Tell me, Tawny, what is it you're looking for in a man?"

  She pursed her red-lacquered lips in deep thought. "I'm looking for heart, Nick. Heart and soul. Those are the most important things."

  There was a collective "aww" from the audience. Beside me, Peter said, "Okay, the soul thing really was funny. Only to us, of course, but still."

  Tawny then winked at the crowd. "But stamina and a big checkbook can make up for that sometimes."

  Nick waited for the audience's laughter to fade. "Okay, let's start the bidding at fifty—oh my God."

  Tawny had taken off her jacket, revealing a zebra-print bandeau top underneath. ‘Top' was a dubious term at best, though. When wrapped around her enormous bust, it looked more like a rubber band and really only served to cover her nipples.

  Bids exploded from the audience, much to the astonishment of my friends and me. More surprising still was when Nick the auctioneer actually joined in.

  "Folks, I know this is a bit unusual…but, well, I just can't help myself. Three-hundred dollars."

  "Three-fifty!"

  "Four-hundred!"

  In the end, Nick was the one who ended up winning her, paying a startling five-fifty.

  "Well, I'll be damned," said Peter.

  I would have made a joke about his comment if I wasn't so shocked. When I finally found my voice, it was to say, "Well…this is a good thing, right? That guy looks like he'd sleep with her right now."

  "And," added Cody, "it was all for the kids."

  Slowly, my astonishment faded into relief. This was an unexpected twist to the evening. The Tawny problem was fixed. Apparently, all we'd needed to do was essentially run an ad for her. She'd sleep with him, and Niphon would get off my back. One less thing for me to worry about—which was good, because I certainly had plenty of other things. Like Maddie.

  It was her turn next. She walked out, face grim and set for battle. She looked both terrified and terrifying. In spite of that hard countenance, I still saw a few interested faces in the audience.

  "Smile, smile," I muttered to no one in particular.

  "Maddie Sato," said Nick cheerily. "You write magazine articles. Anything I'd know?"

  "Probably not," she said, still wearing that grimace. "Not unless you read feminist publications."

  "Feminist," he said, clearly amused. "Next you'll be telling us you hate men."

  She gave him a blank look. "I only hate stupid men who don't actually understand what ‘feminist' means."

  He laughed. "You run into a lot of men like that?"

  "All the time."

  "Really?"

  "Even as we speak, Nick."

  "Oh no she didn't," said Peter. I groaned.

  It took Nick a full ten seconds to realize he had just been insulted. Then, for the first time that night, he stopped smiling. Turning to the crowd, he said flatly, "Okay, let's start the bidding at fifty."

  Silence met him. The interested faces no longer looked so interested. I swallowed a scream. No, this couldn't be happening. I'd promised her a date. This would destroy her. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard a voice in the back of the room.

  "Fifty."

  Relieved, I craned my head and looked. The guy who had bid was about fifty years old and looked exactly like this pedophile I'd once seen on a news special.

  "Fifty," said Nick. "Do I hear seventy-five?"

  Silence. I turned to Seth.

  "Do something!" I hissed.

  He flinched. "What?"

  "Going once…"

  I elbowed him, and his hand shot up. "Seventy-five."

  There was a collective "ooh' in the room. Apparently no one, including Maddie, had expected a bidding war for the belligerent man-hater. Her eyes widened in surprise.

  "One hundred," said the pedophile look-alike.

  Then, either to end this quickly or because he felt sorry for Maddie, Seth said, "Three hundred."

  More sounds of astonishment followed. The other bidder couldn't compete; he must have spent all his money on bail.

  "Sold to the gentleman in the Welcome Back, Kotter T-shirt."

  "Nice," said Cody, as Maddie exited the stage.

  I reached out and squeezed Seth's hand. "Thank you."

  He gave me his half-smile. "Anything for the kids."

  Nick flipped to his next card. "And now we have…Georgina Kincaid."

  My head shot up. Across the room, I saw Hugh's smirking face.

  "Oh no he didn't," I said through gritted teeth.

  Nick, puzzled, glanced toward where the other auctionees were. "Georgina Kincaid?"

  "No avoiding it," Peter told me. "Might as well go up there. Otherwise people'll think you hate kids."

  "That joke is getting old," I hissed.

  Vowing to slap Hugh later, I reluctantly rose from my chair. Upon seeing me, Nick turned on the supernova smile. "Ah, there she is. Fashionably late."

  On the subject of fashion, I wished I'd worn something as nice as Maddie's dress. I might have just gotten tricked into this thing, but now I wished I could do it right. I still looked good; my normal sense of aesthetics would allow for nothing less. I had on a black skirt and a purple cashmere sweater, my hair in a ponytail. In tiny increments—too slow and small for anyone to notice—I tightened the sweater around my figure and made the neckline bigger. I put a saunter into my hips and pulled out my ponytail tie, shaking out my hair. It had worked for Maddie and countless nerdy movie girls. It would work for me because I suddenly had a serious issue at stake here.

  There was no way on God's green earth that I was going for less than Tawny.

  "Georgina," said Nick, helping me onto the stage. "My notes say you prefer Georgie." Yeah, Hugh was definitely getting slapped. "And that you run a bookstore."

  If I'd taken a victim recently and had succubus glamour on me, I wouldn't have to do a single thing except stand there. I wouldn't even have to smile. Now I'd have to work a little. Quickly, I assessed this crowd. The kinds of guys who came to events like this tended to be white-collar professionals with disposable income. Some would be here simply because philanthropy was trendy and good for the image, and this was a stylish way to do it. Others, while perhaps not desperate, were nonetheless intellects and introverts who found this a good opportunity to meet women. These men all wanted smart, competent women—women who were also pretty, of course. And wit…wit always went over well.

  I gave Nick, then the audience, a heart-stopping smile. "That's right. I organize events, bring in money, make sure everything looks good, and whip people into shape."

  "Sounds like a lot of work," he said.

  "Or," I said, "an excellent first date."

  There was no cymbal crash, but my punch line elicited the laughs I'd hoped for. "You have some high expectations," said Nick.

  "Well, I think everyone should. Why settle? If a guy meets my expectations, I'll meet his. And in the end, it's all about sense of humor and a conversation that won't put me to sleep." I realized I sounded vaguely like a Miss America contestant, but maybe there wasn't much difference. I could see from the intrigue in the audience that I'd made a good impression.

  "This one's a keeper," said Nick. "Let's start at fifty for Georgie."

  I got my fifty and then some. Bids flew around the room. At one point, I glanced at Seth. Our eyes met, and I could tell by his expression that he was on the verge of bidding. I shook my head. He was the only one I wanted to go out with in this room, but I didn't want to taint Maddie's win. I wanted her to feel special. Besides, I also didn't want Seth to blow that much money.

  I went for seventeen-hundred dollars.

  "I can't believe that," Maddie whispered to me afterward. "I think you're the highest one so far. The guy looked cute too."

  He had. Late thirties. Armani suit. Harmless. Nobody I planned on establishing anything meaningful with, but he'd do for a casual date. Maybe an energy fix if I decided to use this body.

  "You brought in some money yourself," I teased.

  Her eyes found Seth, sitting across the room, and studied him speculatively. "Seth probably did it because he felt sorry for me."

  "Of course not," I said quickly. She still looked skeptical.

  "Well, it doesn't matter. I'd rather drink coffee and talk shop with him than go out with some sleazy guy. That other bidder reminded me of this sex offender I saw on TV once…"

  When the auction wound down, I exchanged contact info with my buyer for a future date. Hugh attached himself to Deanna and stayed as far away from me as possible. No worries. I'd have plenty of time to deal with him later. Tawny, fortunately, also stayed away from me and clung to Nick's arm. I watched them like a proud parent. Tonight was going to be a great night.

  CHAPTER 8

  "Succubus."

  Dante's laconic voice was the last thing I'd expected to hear when my phone rang the next day. I'd forgotten that I'd left him my number. My surprise quickly gave way to eagerness. Maybe he'd found something for me. No energy loss had occurred after the auction, but then, I hadn't taken a victim either. It wasn't much to go on, but that small pattern Dante had pointed out was still a place to start, and I hoped he'd have more to offer now.

  "Hey! What's up?" I sat down on the couch. I'd been getting ready to go out with Seth later, applying makeup the old-fashioned way in order to conserve shape-shifting energy. I'd need to cash in on my auction date sooner rather than later to get some power back.

  There was a pause from the other end of the line before Dante spoke again. "I've been thinking…I've been thinking we're going about all of this the wrong way."

  Very unexpected. "Really?"

  "Yeah. I wasn't taking it seriously, so I understand why you were getting pissed off."

  Hearing him admit how he'd been blowing my problems off wasn't exactly cheering, but I appreciated his honesty.

  "Well…it's okay. I'm just glad we can maybe figure something out now. I'm getting anxious."

  "Me too." More silence, then I heard him take a deep breath. "So, have you ever been to El Gaucho?"

  The reference to one of Seattle's downtown steakhouses was such a non sequitur that I couldn't respond for several seconds. When I did speak, it wasn't very articulate.

  "What?"

  "It's a restaurant. Down on First—"

  "Yeah, yeah. I know what it is. What's it have to do with the dreams?"

  "Dreams? What are you talking about?"

  "What are you—oh, Jesus Christ. Are you asking me out?"

  "Of course I am. What the fuck would El Gaucho have to do with those dreams?"

  I groaned. "I can't believe this. I actually thought you had something useful for me."

  "I'm trying to be nice here! Look, the dreams are a lost cause, but we aren't. You were right when you said I was being sleazy and treating you like you were cheap. So give me a break! I'm trying to have sex with you the right way."

  I found this even freakier than when Dante had suggested the place with the happy hour beer. "I don't want to have sex with you, okay? I want your help with my problems. And how many times do I have to tell you that I have a boyfriend?"

  "As many times as you want. I just don't buy that that's a real relationship. Particularly after you sold yourself for seventeen-hundred dollars last night."

  "How do you know about that?"

  "It was in the paper."

  "That date doesn't count."

  "Can a date with me not count?"

  "No! For the last time, I have a boyfriend. I'm going out with him tonight."