"He's not that young," she just managed not to growl, fingers tightening bruisingly around her phone. At least until Anna picked up. "Hello Anna. How is everything??" Her voice was perfectly civil, though her hand made another trek through her wet hair.

    Ry smiled again. "With good reason." Even if he didn't hear the actual warning in the vampire's voice, the words were telling enough. Perhaps he'd be making more problems than solutions if he nabbed Julianna. He'd have to think on it.
    With that in mind, he went around his car and slid his dripping body onto the pristine leather seat. The car purred to life and he directed it down the driveway, glancing in the rearview mirror as he hit the street. A very interesting night.
    His tail lights flickered another goodbye as he pulled onto the road and headed back into town.

    Smiling again, a gentle curve of his lips, Patrick gently tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her air. "Ye do, Ai. Ya do a lot more than most o' our kind, fer little gain most o' tha time." It was an admirable trait in her, something she'd kept through death and beyond.
    He peered at her through lazy eyes, seeming relaxed and at ease, but there was a whir of thoughts behind his gaze. "An' wha' 'e's doin' 'ere. There's got tae be a reason tae be so far from 'ome, especially fer someone o' 'is ilk."

    Christian lifted his bottle in a toast to Darshan. "To not disliking far off descendants." He took a drink as Gift tried to stifle another snicker.
    "I don't know, it's been, what, hundreds of thousands of years, if not more, since your last child was brought into the world," she said contemplatively. "I figured the need to kick out some more would kick in again. At some point."
    "He was also asleep for many many years," Christian pointed out. "He's probably just enjoying himself now, and a kid would definitely get in the way of that."
    A moment of thought brought a shrug from Gift's shoulders, and she eyed Christian. "And you??"
    Giving a short bark of laughter, the vampire had to grin. "No, I don't think I'll be tempted to impregnate some poor female anytime in the near future. I can do without the, what's it called, dynasty I guess."
    "Aiming big, are we," Gift muttered into her glass, grinning as she took another drink.
    Then came Darshan's trek across the kitchen, which required far too much focus from his companions to mean anything good for the rest of the evening. At the dragon's inquiry, Christian stretched out his arm to pick up the appropriate bottle, then leaned over in his seat to put it on the ground. A prod from his fingers, then a stronger push sent the bottle rolling towards his friend, before it suddenly veered and hit the wall a few yards away from him.
    Christian blinked. "There you go," he finally decided, and tried to straighten back in his chair. He couldn't. The room was tilting, the floor trying to meet him and provide a much more comfortable place to sit. But, even off-his-feet drunk as he was, he knew this was Mace's house and /didn't/ want to think of what things happened on his kitchen floor.
    Blarg.
    "Gift," he grunted. "I'm stuck."
    Gift smirked. "I can see that." Flexing her fingers, wondering why it seemed she had two more than normal, she slowly reached over and grabbed his shirt, hauling him back so he was sitting evenly in his seat.
    Breathing out a deep, slightly wet breath, Christian closed his eyes. "It still feels like I'm stuck."
    "Well, you're not. Just sit there." Gift took another drink, licking numb lips again, and lifted the hair off the back of her neck.

    Queenie shook her head in amusement even as C.J. looked up from her shots. "A titty bar?? That sounds so ugly. They need a nicer name."
    "I think they're officially called strip clubs," Queenie offered, tossing her mane back.
    "Better," C.J. chirped, and went back to her drinks. Queenie couldn't wait to see the tiger try to stand up now.
    Sahar's little rambling explanation brought several nods from Queenie, though her last words made the lioness grin. "Oh no, sweet pea. You've been brought into the flock, you'll get taken care of. Think of Mace as your sugah daddy, he's gotta take care of you now."
    "Ooohh, sugah daddy," C.J. giggled. "That sounds like fun."
    The stripper and the waiter were still watching all of them with open grins and amusement. Especially when Sahar made a last effort to finish her drink before deciding it was time to go. "Considering how wasted you all are, I'm going to suggest The Painter's Poke. It's just down the block. An all night joint, really nice people. And, incidentally, I'm going to have to collect some car keys."
    C.J. pouted but it was Queenie's hand that went to protectively cover her purse. "Nuh uh, not my car. I've gotta take it home or they'll /know/."
    "Sorry sweetheart," the stripper said soothingly, reaching over to gently pry the purse from Queenie's not-too-resisting hand. "Better they know than have to come identify you. Especially around Christmas time in Vegas." Quick and efficient, he retrieved her keys from the purse and handed it back. "You can come back tomorrow and pick it up."

    Blaise shrugged carelessly. "They have their own form of fun," she said.
    When Irene returned, Damon gave a short nod. "They'll work. You two take care of the girl; I'll take care of him." A mental nudge and the human male was walking to the room adjacent his sister, Damon following him with the fuzzy handcuffs dangling from his fingers.
    "What a funny image," Blaise murmured with a smirk, before gesturing Irene ahead of her. "Help yourself. I've never been into the tying thing."

    A frustrated sigh rattled past Anna's lips when she received no answer, but the phone was in her hand and she couldn't press any further. She turned away and took a few steps down the hall when she heard Keller's voice through the phone. "I don't know," she said, a fine thread of irritation weaving its way into her voice, even though it wasn't directed at Keller. "There's a lot I don't know, it would seem."
    Galen heard the perfect civility in Keller's tone, and saw the way that she dragged a hand through her tangled wet hair. Then he heard Anna's response through the phone. He backed away to a cautious distance, going to check out the room service menu sitting on the desk, although he continued to listen to the phone conversation.

    Gamble grunted in agreement, and watched as Ry pulled out of his driveway, down its winding length and back onto the road that would lead him back to Las Vegas. When the car had faded into the distance, he turned and walked back toward the house. He gathered the two horses from where they had been left out front, and took them back to the stables. He gave them a quick rub down, making sure they were dry, warm, and fed, before heading back to the house.
    He opened the screen door and stepped inside, shaking the water out of his hair in a good imitation of his dogs. "Juli?"

    "Well, someone did me a good turn, once," Ai murmured, her eyes gone soft and thoughtful. "Why shouldn't I return the favor?"
    "That's true," she said, her gaze thoughtful now without any of the softness. A hint of sharp humor made its way back into her voice. "Your typical street whore doesn't usually travel far from home, much less take a plane to get there. How interesting." She remembered thinking that when she had been talking to Varian outside of the airport, too. Interesting indeed.

    "I will be having no more children," Darshan said firmly. He cast Christian a sly look from beneath eyelashes made heavy with drink. "I don't know about you, though. I think you would make a good daddy. Would Ms. Dayton be the godmother?" Sonya Dayton with potential guardianship of a child. The corner of his eye twitched a little. "Never mind. She'd probably buy them an easy-bake oven, and then stuff them into it."
    For a moment, Darshan continued to admire the light from the refrigerator, and wondered a little foggily why he was sitting on the kitchen floor. Then Christian rolled the bottle towards him, and he remembered. The bottle thunked into the wall a few feet out of reach, and Darshan whimpered.
    The exchange between Gift and Christian went mostly ignored, since he was trying to decide how to reach the gin. Finally, he eased himself forward onto all fours, intending to crawl if he had to, since standing up did not seem like a viable option.
    His knees slid against the kitchen tile, and his arms gave out as they were forced to support the swaying weight of his upper body. His chin hit the tile, and his eyes crossed for a moment before he got himself straightened out. It was all for the best, in the end, because now, with his body spread out across the floor, the bottle was just barely within the reach of his grasping fingers.
    With a contented sigh, he rolled over and settled onto his back, contemplating the hole in the ceiling and trying not to think about what the gang might have been doing on the kitchen floor. He shifted to one side, and frowned as something dug into the back of his head.
    "I found a tiny little screw," he said, voice still remarkably clear for a man who was lying on the floor. "I think it came from the toaster."

    "I don't think Mace would be a good sugar daddy," Sahar mused, "he's awfully stingy about his food. More uptight than I remember him being, too. No orgies on the stairs, pfffft."
    "Poke," she repeated, and snickered. "A poke down the block. Got it." She completely missed the debate about the car keys, because she leaned over to sniff the sexy tiger when he took Queenie's purse. "You smell good," she told him. Then she got to her feet, teetering a little in her strappy little heels.

    "Yes, I have to say that Damon Salvatore going into a room with a pair of handcuffs and a ballet dancer does provide a few images," Irene commented. Blaise's gesture and the accompanying words made her roll her eyes, but she obediently stepped into the room.
    "I'm interested as to what makes you think that I /am/," she tossed back, taking the girl by the shoulders and guiding her into the chair near the desk.

    Price kept his eyes on the bag as the vampires reached the elevator. Even when the doors had closed behind them again, his shoulders didn't loosen. Moving carefully, slowly, he poked his head into the room to inspect its condition. Cleaner than any maid service could've done. Not that he expected anything else.
    Keller eyes closed on the other end of the phone, and she breathed herself down from too high an emotional peak. "I have to assume you are in fact with Price, then. Is there a particular reason why he's ignoring me, or just in general??"

    Once Ry had gone and Julianna had seen Gamble gather the horses, she left the door to go to the bathroom. Retrieving two of his thick bath towels, she first rubbed down Cujo so he wouldn't make a big huge mess around the house, then rubbed down herself. Her wet clothes were exchanged for one of Gamble's flannel shirts, which hit her mid-thigh and were as sinfully comfy as his couch, and she'd just got another towel when she heard his voice.
    "Here," she said, coming back to the living room. "Take off your shirt so you don't drip everywhere, and we'll get you a little dry before you can change."

    "Once," Patrick repeated gently. "Does tha' really inspire ye tae keep doin' good turns fer tha rest o' yer life??"
    He was silent when she contemplated her potential new find, but couldn't help nodding slowly. "Tha's somethin' tae think 'bout, luv. Considerin' wha' seems tae be goin' down 'ere now, I'd be more cautious than e'er 'bout who ya keep comp'ny wit' while yer 'ere."

    The firmness in Darshan's voice brought grins and smirks from his friends, but no arguments. And of course the idea of Sonya as godmother to Christian's children made Gift laugh. "I can't even see her buying an easy-bake oven for any children. She'd buy them toy guns. /Then/ stuff them into the real oven."
    "Which answers that question," Christian grinned. "Sonya's my girl and I fear she'd be too put off by the thought of kids at my knees to want to hang out anymore."
    "Very sad," Gift sympathized. "Not to mention, your relationship with her might kind of put off any woman you'd care to sleep with."
    "There's that too," he agreed, and gave Gift a sideways look. "Since we're going around the table, what about you, Ms. Redfern?? Feeling the biological clock ticking yet??"
    "It can tick away, for all I care," Gift said calmly.
    Even after she'd gotten Christian back in his seat, there was still plenty of time left to watch Darshan's journey to the bottle. They both toasted him when their friend finally got it in hand, then finished their own drinks.
    The finding of the screw brought a moment of thoughtful silence, before Christian grunted. His movements slower, more careful than Darshan's, he placed his hands on the table and used it to lever himself to his feet. Standing there for a moment, swaying, letting his legs become used to his weight again, he finally stepped to the side. Confident now, he released the table and slowly shuffled over to the counter. A step away, he misjudged the distance between his feet and tripped over them, falling against the counter and just barely managing to not crack his head on the surface. Hands were good for that.
    Not sure she wanted to know what Christian was up to, Gift decided it was time to vacate her chair as well. Another shot would have her falling out of it anyway, and she really didn't fancy lying on the floor. Instead, she boosted herself up onto the table and gingerly laid down among the vast amount of empty bottles. Ahhhhhh, that was better. Her legs remained limply hanging over the side and she was awarded an awesome view of the hole in Mace's ceiling.
    "I think I can fix this," came Christian's voice a second later, and she rolled her head to realize he was looking at the toaster in the sink.
    "And how do you propose to do that??"
    "Without the use of tools, that's for sure." Leaning his hips heavily against the counter, Christian scooped the toaster out of its current resting place and put it on the counter. "Watch and learn, isn't that what they say??"

    "He's had a stressful day," C.J. murmured sympathetically for the hyena. "He's not always like that, right Queen??"
    "Right," Queenie agreed. "He hasn't changed that much through the years, honestly. Don't think he ever will. And he's not stingy about his food as long as you give him sex in return. He'd trade a lot for sex."
    The waiter was looking a little apprehensive now about letting these three rather wasted females go wandering the nights of Las Vegas. The stripper smiled at Sahar, eyes molten and inviting.
    C.J. finished off her shots and smacked her lips, then bounced to her feet. "Up up and away!" Or over, as she tried to bounce and actually fell over. The waiter was luckily right there though, catching her easily. Her skirt had ridden up and his fingers, by their own will, traced the edge of her panties. A deep sigh echoed from his chest as C.J. wiggled at the feeling. "Nuh uh, not me. I'm t-a-k-e-n. You can fondle her though." She pointed in the general direction she thought Sahar was. "She'd like it."
    "Tempting," the waiter muttered, though he was grinning again as she tried to straighten C.J. "Are you three sure you can even make it down there??"
    "Oh sure," Queenie said with a careless wave, standing quite steadily on her feet. Her face was flushed and her eyes glittered though, which gave proof to the buzz she'd claimed to have. "Been here, done this."

    "Probably be better images if it wasn't a guy dancer," Blaise mused, then shrugged and smirked at Irene. "The way you're holding your potential ties, I suppose. Plus you have the look that you can be into the s&m scene."
    Joining the other girls, the witch closed the door behind them just in case any other foolish people decided to get off on the wrong floor.

    Anna opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her eyes tracked Price as he went to inspect the room, and the anger on her face crumpled. Because the tension was still there in his shoulders and he was grieving, and no matter how much she hated being kept out of the loop, she couldn't bring herself to make it worse. "Yeah, I'm with Price. I'm sorry he's ignoring you. Really, it's nothing. We had a bit of a row, and he's in a mood." Neither of which were really lies, since Anna was more than ready to pick a fight with him and he was in a mood. The two just weren't connected. That didn't keep her from feeling guilty as she said it. Because it was wrong of Price to be keeping Keller out of this, and it was wrong of her to lie to Keller under these circumstances. In the end, though, it had to be his choice.

    "Not allowed to drip in my own house," Gamble joked, his face lightening at the words. He untucked his white button-up shirt and pulled it over his head, dropping it carelessly on the floor near the door. He took the towel from her with a smile, and used it to dry his hair and chest before reaching down to untie his muddy boots. "Are you okay, darlin'?" He didn't think he had anything to worry about, but he wanted to check and make sure.

    "Yes," Ai said, bluntly. "When Adam found me, the best thing that can be said about my situation is that I had a roof over my head. Everything I am now, I owe to him. Can I really deny others the same chance that I was given? I only regret that there's not more I can do. I have my charities and my special projects, but as we've both said, I can't save the world." She smiled, a little wryly. "Not yet, at least."
    She reached out, covering one of Patrick's hands with her two small ones. "Please, don't be concerned about me. I'll pick the boy's brain before I do anything, if that will make you feel better. I'm not about to do anything incautious, not if things are as serious as you say."

    "So, we will all remain childless," Darshan, with a great air of satisfaction, seemingly willing to forget that he already had children. Of course, he was willing to do that when he was sober, much less now. He was silent for a moment, contemplating the possibility of Sonya scaring off Christian's potential paramours, but his friend's relationship with the gunwoman was enough to give anyone a headache, so he stopped. And drank some gin.
    He watched as Christian made his way unsteadily to the counter, and then grunted at the other man's words. "Wait, wait, wait. I can help." The required him to get up, which proved most difficult. To get up, he had to get his arms under him. To do that, he needed to release the bottle of gin. This made him sad. After a few minutes on careful deliberation, he was propped up on his elbows, with the bottle of gin sitting beside him on the kitchen floor.

    "Nooooo," Sahar said. "I don't trade sex for things. I'd just do him, and then raid the 'fridge while he was all relaxed." She nodded, drunk enough to be pleased with the idea.
    She wasn't yet so drunk that she couldn't return the tiger's molten look with a sultry smile of her own. The clear invitation in his eyes made her blood pressure sky rocket, because mmm, sexy. But no, she wasn't going to skip out on their girl's night in order to get into his tight little pants. Besides, they were going to get tattoos! Still, she could look, and appreciate, and... Touch? No-oo-o-o. If she started touching, she would never get out of there, and it would effectively bring their girl's night to an end.
    So she didn't touch the tiger, but C.J. said that she could fondle the waiter (or was it the other way around?) She tottered around the table to C.J., and gave the waiter a little kiss, which ended with her slipping him the tongue because it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. "You're sweet," she said approvingly, because it really was nice of him to fuss over them. Then she linked her arm through C.J.'s, so that they were precariously balanced together. It meant that the other woman was on her feet, but it also meant that if one fell, both of them likely would. "Ready to go, doll?"

    "Oh, yes, just call me the mistress of pain," Irene drawled, cracking one of the ties like a whip. "Come on, and help me tie her. It shouldn't be that hard. She's quiet as a lamb, aren't you?"
    The last was directed at Katya, who remained silent and glassy-eyed. Irene apparently hadn't been expecting an answer, because she guided the young girl into a chair without making any further comment.

    Price, after inspecting the room and making sure everything looked normal, stopped just beside the spot he knew Jon had laid. Hearing the murmur of Anna's voice on the phone, he stood there and stared down at the pristine carpet. He didn't see the cleanliness though. The image in his eyes was burned in and wouldn't leave until he'd found out who and why.
    Keller closed her eyes again, releasing a slow breath. "I'm sorry to hear that, Anna. I know things have been rough lately and he's been involved in some things he probably shouldn't. Tell him to call me, please."

    "Only because you'd hate to have to clean the mess up later," Julianna pointed out with a smile, watching with unabashed pleasure as he removed his shirt. Gamble was one of those men who looked good both ways.
    He took the towel and began drying himself as the dogs started settling down. Cujo remained steadfastly at Julianna's side and she fondled his pointed ear gently, eyes thoughtful as she watched her boyfriend. His inquiry made her smile. "I'm fine. He didn't do anything. But." She looked down at Cujo, who met her gaze with a soft whine, before looking back up at him. "It's a little strange. One minute I was talking to him, sitting in his car with him outside, and the next, the door was closed and Cujo was attacking him." She met his eyes frankly. "I don't remember that happening, Gamble."

    Patrick reached over again, gently stroking her cheek as she spoke. "I know luv," he said softly. "But no' all people are as good or resilient as ye. An' it 'urts ya, no' bein' able tae 'elp ever'one in yer path. Ya 'ave tae pick and choose, Ai." There was no point telling her she'd helped more in her lifetime than probably anyone else ever had. It still wouldn't be enough.
    The feel of her small hands over his made him smile, and his eyes were affectionate as they grazed her face. "O' course I'll worry, an' I'll expect ya tae be patient an' kind when I check up on ye, as I'm wont tae do. But I trust yer judgment, always 'ave, so I willna do an'thing." Yet. If this situation got any worse, he might have to step in then.

    "To childlessness," Gift said, raising her hand in the air as if she held a glass. She wasn't sure where her glass had gone. It was likely around here somewhere. Just had to find it.
    Christian grunted agreement and lifted a whole bottle. Seemed they'd gotten to that point of the night when glasses were no longer necessary all around. Plus, he had more interesting things to work on. Like the toaster. Piece o' cake.
    He grunted again at Darshan when the dragon said he could help. Gift just gave a little giggle slash snicker where she lay on the table, eyes half closed as one foot swung lazily over the side. Eyeing the toaster where it rested on the counter top, Christian licked his lip and pressed a finger to its side. Electricity zapped through the air, making Gift's hair stand up, but she ignored it.
    Christian frowned at the toaster. "That should've worked," he mumbled.

    "That would be fun too," C.J. said contemplatively. Though usually by the time she was done doing Darshan, food was pretty much the last thing on her mind. Hmmm. Maybe Sahar was more focused than she??
    The stripper and the waiter were both watching the threesome with varying degrees of amusement and dismay. Mostly respectively. The waiter was worried about their health and well-being, the stripper was wondering how far they'd get before falling over. Maybe it'd be worth it to follow them, that way he could catch them /all/ when they fell. Especially when he got a tasty view under a skirt and saw lace panties. Tempting, so very tempting.
    The waiter was undeniably surprised at the kiss, especially a drunken tongue that still managed to get him half-aroused, and sighed when it became obvious they would not be dissuaded from their goal. "Remember, I've got the car," he reminded them, pocketing the keys before they were snagged.
    C.J. giggled, ended it with a hiccup, and bobbed her head at Sahar. "Let's go." She wiggled her hips at the boys in goodbye and motioned for Queenie to lead the way. Following the elder lioness, humming "we're off to see the wizard" as they went.
    The cold night air felt good on Queenie's face when they left the club, and she breathed it in and felt much better. "Now, we go this way," she decided, turning left and leading her friends towards the tattoo parlor.

    Blaise smirked again. "Think I'll pass, thanks," she drawled right back, and helped tie the little dancer up. One that was done, she stepped back to observe their work, and nodded approvingly. "That should work for a good long while. I wonder how long we should keep them here."

    "At least one of us knows what he's involved in," Anna said, with a touch of grim humor. "Thanks, Keller. I'll tell him to call you." And I'm sorry for lying to you, she added silently. She hung up the phone, and went to find Price.
    He was staring at the place where the body had been lying. She shuddered, remembering the way the carpet had been soaked with blood. It made her tone softer and gentler than it would have been otherwise. "If you don't call your mother soon, she's going to start to wonder. I'll call someone to pick me up."

    "True enough," Gamble said. His own eyes warmed with pleasure when he saw how she watched him. Everyone liked to be appreciated, after all.
    "I don't like to think the worst about a fellow, but he was up to no good." He reached out, taking Julianna's shoulders. "I think you should call your sister, or Ethan. If someone is tryin' to get their hands on you, it's best that they know."

    The smile that Ai gave Patrick was meant to comfort, but not to agree. "I help who I can." She reached out and tapped him on the nose. "Accept it, love."
    "I'm always patient and kind," she replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling up as her smile widened. "But yes, I promise to let you fuss without protest. Does that satisfy?"

    "I have children," Darshan mused. "I don't like them very much."
    From his elbows, he managed to lever himself into a sitting position, his legs still sprawled out in front of him. He stared at them for a long moment, then reached out and grabbed the counter.
    With a small grunt of effort, he pulled himself to his feet.

    "Mmm-hmm," Sahar said, with a twinkling smile for the waiter when he said that he still had the car. Once she had removed her tongue from his mouth, of course. "We'll be back."
    She blew a kiss to the pretty pretty boys and sauntered out with her girls, singing along to C.J.'s humming. She followed Queenie down the sidewalk willing enough, and was still singing softly as they neared the tattoo parlor, the outside air cooling her flushed cheeks.

    "We'll figure something out," Irene said carelessly. "For now, it seems enough that we have them." She studied her nails, making sure that she hadn't chipped one in the process of tying up the dancer. "I think we've done enough for one evening. Would you like to go downstairs and get a drink?"

    “Price,” Keller said, voice just above a growl, and more of a resigned exclamation than anything. She knew her son didn’t share everything in his life with Anna. She wasn’t sure just how much he withheld. Certainly not everything??
    She put the phone on the table and looked at Galen. “Price isn’t available, it would seem. She’s going to tell him to call me.” Another agitated hand went through her damp hair. Whether he would or not was still up for grabs.

    Price didn’t look up when he heard Anna hang up the phone, or when she started to speak. When she mentioned calling someone to pick her up though, he did. “Stay safe, Anna,” he said softly. “Please.” His eyes were still almost black, though they were blank. As if he’d finally started sliding down into a kind of numb shock.

    Smiling again when she saw Gamble’s expression, Julianna kept rubbing Cujo’s ears. Even when he said his piece, up until he took her shoulders. Cujo nudged her thigh when her scritchings stopped but she didn’t resume again.
    “I can’t think of why,” she admitted, still meeting his eyes frankly. “I met him last night, at the bar in Irene’s hotel. There wasn’t really anything alarming about him, but he does remind me of a lot of our friends. Did then, does now. Gift called earlier asking about new people who’d be good with a rifle, and I told her about him. I didn’t know it was Ry Densevetti. He just told us his name was Ry.” Her nose wrinkled a little, the curiosity again bleeding through her eyes. “Something’s funny here. Out at the car, he was telling me he had a long story to tell, then he said it wasn’t fair that I was so nice and too sweet for my own good. And then, whatever happened.”

    “I accept tha’,” Patrick protested with a smile. “I just expect ya tae take care on who ye ‘elp. If only fer tha people in yer life tha’ it would affect if ye take in someone up tae no good.”
    He looked up when someone started to approach, and gave a short shake of his head to indicate the presence of the waiter was not necessary. Hearing Ai’s voice again, he looked back at her. “O’ course, ye are tha very picture o’ patience an’ understandin’. An’ ye know I appreciate it.” A glimmer of wicked humor went across his eyes. “No’ tha’ it would stop me from doin’ it an’way, but it’s still appreciated.”

    A moment of silence followed Darshan’s reminder of his children. “That must suck,” Gift said, enunciating her words carefully. “Not liking your children. One reason I don’t care for it. What happens if I don’t like them?? It’d be harder to pitch them out of my life, I think.”
    Christian didn’t have a comment on that, frowning in a slightly puzzled way at the toaster. It still wasn’t working. Rubbing his fingertips together, he licked his lips again and once more touched the smooth polished side of the electric machine. The sizzle of electricity came again, sharper this time, accompanied by the faintest whiff of ozone.
    Head having fallen to the side to watch Darshan rise, Gift had to look over at the vampire when she smelt it. Managing to roll her head just in time, she could only watch as the light above the sink started to glow. Brighter and brighter until it was blindingly bright, before it popped and went out again. It left afterimages on her eyes.
    “Maybe you should stop,” was her helpful hint this time.

    Both the waiter and stripper watched them leave, then shared a look and went back to work. What else could they do??
    Queenie still seemed steady on her feet, at least enough to lead them in a fairly straight line to the tattoo parlor. C.J. was stumbling and swerving and humming as loud as she could. Her eyes were half-closed, shirt plastered to her skin with a nice sheen of sweat. She was smiling though, and looked happy.
    Once at the tattoo parlor, Queenie blinked at it and headed inside. There was one man present, slouched on a stool behind a counter, watching a small TV. When they entered, he looked up and studied the three women. “So who made the dare??”

    Blaise considered the question, looking at their captive. Not that she intended to do anything with her. Female ballet dancers, yeah, not really her thing. “A drink sounds wonderful,” she said, turning to the door. “I think I’ll just let Ash take care of this mess, whenever he gets around to it.” Wasn’t much skin off her nose, whatever happened. Wrong place, wrong time, that was the start of pretty much every horror story.

    "So I heard," Galen said, with a wry smile. He stepped away from the desk, and held out a hand to her. "I'm sorry to have raised the alarm for no good reason. He just seemed a bit more... monosyllabic... than usual, and I wanted to make sure it was nothing to worry about."

    "I..." Anna stopped herself, keeping whatever she had been about to say firmly behind her teeth. She was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "I'll try. I wish you'd trust me." She stepped back into the hall, searching through the address book until she found Fang's number.
    He would be the easiest one to convince, and he wouldn't ask uncomfortable questions. What better place to hide than with the band? They were already bristling with security, and no one was likely to notice her, standing behind a rockstar.

    A soft sound, which would have been amused if the situation had not been so serious, came out of Gamble's mouth when she said that Ry reminded her of a lot of their friends. "Dangerous, then." He stroked his thumbs over her shoulders. "Why did Gift want to know about people good with a rifle?"
    "That's not right," he said, "funny or not. Don't go diggin' 'round this, not if he's remindin' you of our friends. You know I respect your skills, love, but I don't want you gettin' a bullet to the head neither. Talk to your sister."

    "If I do make such an error of judgment, it's easy enough to remove them from my life," Ai said, with a shrug. "I'll be careful, though. I have no desire to get screwed over."
    "I know that it wouldn't stop you," she replied, with an answering glint of humor. "Why do you think I'm so patient and understanding? Better to be fussed over willingly, instead of kicking and screaming."

    "Not so much," Darshan said musingly. "My children are very easy to dislike. But it's not like I have to see them often. They're all asleep." He considered that. "Not that I saw them much when they were awake. Or wanted to." He paused. "I /really/ don't like my children. I'm sure that your children would be just lovely, though. And if not, you could drown them. Like kittens."
    Once he was on his feet, Darshan leaned heavily on the counter. He stared in the sink as Christian tinkered, squinting slightly. "Christian?" he asked muzzily, "why are you zapping the faucet?"

    Sahar's singing got louder, but she was no longer singing the same tune as C.J. She was a little puzzled about when and why she had switched, but it didn't matter because she was at the tattoo parlor and it was time to stop singing.
    "I don't think it was a dare," she said, at the man's question. "I think we just decided that I should get my ass tattooed. Of course, we were very drunk at the time."

    "Maybe I should lock the door," Irene said, thoughtfully. "I mean, we can't really do /anything/ with her if we come back and she's as empty as a Pepsi can." She shrugged, and motioned for Blaise to proceed her out of the room.

    She took his hand without hesitation, even stepping closer to rest her forehead on his shoulder with a small sigh. “No, you were right to tell me. The fact that he talked to you in such a way and then won’t talk to me makes my own alarm bells start twitching.” Keller closed her eyes tight for a second, wanting to just be able to lay down with Galen and go to sleep. But… “Maybe I should try to find him.”

    Price had nothing to say to her claim to trust her. He did. But if he closed his eyes, Anna was easily superimposed over Jon’s form on the carpet at his feet. And that he just wasn’t willing to chance. Not Anna.
    Another minute passed before he managed to pull himself away and follow his soulmate out into the hallway. She was on the phone so he just gently took her elbow and started to steer her towards the elevator. He wasn’t leaving her until she was safely in a car with people he knew and trusted, on her way to a safehouse. It would probably be a swell idea to give Gift another call later, see if she could find a better place for Anna to stay during this…period.
    Hmmm.

    “Dangerous,” Julianna had to agree, a bit of laughter lurking from the sound he’d made. “And I actually don’t know. I didn’t ask at the time, as I figured she wouldn’t be willing to tell me. I’ll ask her next time I talk to her.”
    Which would be a lot sooner than usual, if Gamble had any say in it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she assured him with a smile, leaning forward to touch a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve learned quite a lot just from hanging out with our friends. And I’ll call my sister right quick too. Why don’t you start on the cookies??” Her mind was still mulling over the problem Ry Densevetti proposed. She’d figure it out.

    Patrick’s look was just mildly skeptical at her hard-hearted words. Yes, Ai was practical, but she was also a softy. Getting someone out of her life wasn’t as easy as all that. “Aye, gettin’ screwed over was ne’er good fer an’one’s self-image. We’d like ya tae keep ‘way from tha’, luv.”
    Her words merely showed her practicality, causing another flash of a grin to cross his face. “Tha’s so smart o’ ye tae realize. An’ refreshin’. Tha kickin’ an’ screamin’ would just make me fuss ‘arder an’way.”

    “Are you sure they’re still asleep??” Gift asked, voice low and slow. But still perfectly understandable. That was the important part. “They could’ve been wakened by now, right?? Would you know if they are??” A little animalistic gleam flickered through her eyes at Darshan’s solution to her child problem. “Kittens. I prefer to eat them. Delectable little mouthfuls that they are.”
    “Furry,” Christian grunted. Personally, he didn’t like the whole fur thing from live animals. He didn’t even like overly hairy humans. Better to be smooth and shiny, like this toaster.
    Toaster. Toasters were bigger than this, right??
    Darshan’s voice solved that problem. Ahh. It was the faucet, wasn’t it. Hmmm. Where did the toaster go?? “Why is everything so shiny,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. Then touched the toaster again.
    The lights overhead flickered. The one in the slightly ajar ‘fridge went out.
    Gift made another gigglesnort sound from the table.

    The mention of a pretty young thing getting her ass tattooed caused the artist’s eyes to drop to said body part. Not that he could see much, when she was facing the wrong way, but he got a nice eyeful of wonderfully bare thighs. “Uh huh. Do I even need to ask if you’ve sobered up enough to realize what you’re asking for??”
    “She wants a tattoo over her crack that says “poke here,”” C.J. chimed helpfully, poking Queenie. The lioness hiccupped and C.J. giggled.
    The artist couldn’t decide if his brows wanted to go up or go down. He settled for grinning. “In big bubble letters, right??”

    “A hotel lock isn’t going to stop many people on this floor,” Blaise shrugged carelessly, heading for the door as Irene gestured her on. “Probably Ash though. Too drunk to figure out how to open it.” Love her cousin though she did, she could easily admit he had some issues going on in that blond head of his.

    Galen looped an arm around her waist as she stepped closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I heard what Anna told you. You don't think that's all that's going on?" He trusted her instincts, especially her instincts as a mother, and if she thought that something was wrong... well, maybe it was time to find Price.

    The phone rang a few times before someone picked up. "Yeah?" Anna could only be grateful that it was actually Fang, and not some groupie or one of the other band members.
    "Hi, it's me."
    "Uhh..." he said, nervously. "Hi."
    Lots of girls calling him, she realized, with faint amusement. She felt Price touch her elbow and guide her towards the elevator, but ignored him. "Anna," she clarified.
    "Anna!" Fang said, sounding happy, although it could have just been relief at not having to supply a name. "Hey, baby."
    She rolled her eyes. "Hey. How is everything with you guys?"
    "It's cool," he said brightly. "We're all settled in at Nona's apartment. Real swanky place. Security pays well, I guess. Nice of you to call and check up on us."
    "No problem," she said. "Actually, I've had a little trouble myself. I could use a place to stay."
    "Hey, sure," he said, sounding genuinely pleased at the thought. "I'm sure that Nona and Tala will be happy to have another sensible female type around, right?" Anna grunted, and didn't contradict him. "Shouldn't you be staying with Daybreak or something if you're in trouble, though?"
    Anna sighed. "No. Are you sure it's okay?"
    "Hell, yeah." Fang's tone turned teasing. "I can't say no to a pretty lady in peril. I'll send a car around for you, okay?"
    "Okay. Thanks." She gave him the address, said her goodbyes, and hung up.

    "Ask," Gamble agreed, "because if he done went and pissed off your sister, he's stupid as well as dangerous. That's no kind of good combination." He didn't really believe that, though, and it showed on his face. The man that he had talked to was not stupid by any stretch of the imagination. And smart and dangerous was an even worse combination, unless they happened to be on the right side, like Miss Redfern herself.
    "That's all I ask," he replied when she said she would be careful and call her sister. He smiled warmly at her. "I'll just go ahead and start the cookies, and stop bein' an overprotective ass. You're a big girl; I know you'll take care of yourself." Not that it stopped him from wanting to take care of her.

    "I'll keep that in mind," Ai said, her eyes smiling even though her mouth was serious. "When someone screws you, /no one/ respects you in the morning," she joked, the coarse humor sounding strange in her cultured voice, coming from someone who looked so manicured and elegant.
    "Yes, but I'm a very smart woman," she said. "I know that accepting it gracefully will result in the minimum amount of fuss on your part and the minimum amount of effort on mine."

    "Don't know." Darshan considered that. "Don't really care."
    He pulled a face at Gift, the long line of his nose wrinkling up in a way that was almost... cute. "I'm with Christian on this. Too much fur. Gets between the teeth."
    "I don't think you're doing this right," he said, once Christian had turned his attention from the faucet to the toaster. "Let me try." He reached out and placed a hand against the toaster, and a look of intense concentration came over his face.
    Only he misjudged the amount of power needed. It surged out of him, and since it seemed very important that the toaster not sustain further damage, he redirected it. The table that Gift was laying on dissolved into a pile of splinters, with six smaller piles where the chairs had once been.

    "Nope," Sahar told him cheerfully, "but if you want, I can sign a form saying that I have."
    She considered the 'poke here' tattoo, but it no longer seemed quite so funny. "Naaaaah. I'll go for something a little more tasteful." Not that she knew what, exactly. She turned to consider the designs on the wall, humming a few bars thoughtfully. "You should get something done, Queenie. Like, uh, a tattoo. Or a piercing! Get your belly done. Or your nipples!"

    "Your cousin does seem somewhat... perpetually inebriated," Irene agreed, almost apologetically. "He's been like this for a while, I take it?" Not that she really needed an answer. It had been around ten years, and the walls had ears.

    Keller closed her eyes against Galen’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath. “No, I think there’s something more going on,” she admitted. “Price wouldn’t ignore me just because he had a fight with Anna, and Anna wouldn’t be so upset about not knowing what was going on if something big wasn’t happening.” She took another breath. “He doesn’t want me involved, obviously, so does that mean I shouldn’t be??” It was still hard to draw a line between motherly concern and nosiness sometimes, just because he /was/ her son.

    With no intention of eavesdropping, for the first time in a very long time in his life, Price was nonetheless forced to listen to Anna’s conversation as he guided her into the elevator. He didn’t know if he liked the idea of her hanging out with Fang and the band, but, what could he say?? He’d forced her into the position, and at least he knew some of Gift’s security people were there to protect them all. That eased some of his concern.
    The elevator was almost to the lobby when Anna hung up. Price opened his mouth, then changed his mind and kept his hand lightly around her elbow. When the doors opened, he led her outside and out onto the sidewalk. Then he let his hand drop and stared into the distance with those black eyes.

    The look that came to Julianna’s face matched the one on Gamble’s, because, dangerous as she thought Ry was, she knew he wasn’t stupid. Everything he’d done tonight felt perfectly planned and orchestrated. He just hadn’t calculated a protective schnauzer in the mix.
    “Alright, I’ll ask,” she agreed, giving him a smile. Because she was still intrigued. Why had Ry said she was too sweet for her own good?? And, likely more to the point, what exactly had he been planning to /do/ with her?? Killing didn’t seem right, since he could’ve done that several times already, and with less of a fuss. Something just wasn’t adding up here. She was missing a huge piece of the puzzle, and that was one of the very few things in life that irritated her.
    Gamble’s words made her own warm smile come back and she lifted the arms he was holding to slide them around his neck. An almost smothering hug followed that, and she laid her lips gently against his in a sweet kiss. “You’re not an ass,” she assured him a moment later, eyes shining, arms still twined around his neck. “You’re a perfect gentleman, and I do love you for it.”

    “Aye,” he agreed, with another wry smile, though his eyes remained intense on her face. “Ye might no’ get respect, but ye will be gettin’ a lot more fussin’, luv.” Because the idea of someone screwing around with Ai made him quite angry. Hmmm.
    Patrick smiled at her again, a fond smile full of warmth. “Ya always were so smart. Though I’m ‘alf tempted tae try an’ see just ‘ow far yer acceptance goes.” The smile turned a little wicked. “’Ow much can ye take gracefully, m’dear??”

    That about summed that conversation up. Gift was perfectly content to just stick with Kersti as her only child. About all she cared to try, anyway. Luckily Ethan was infertile.
    The look both of the men gave her made her eyes roll a bit. “You, I’m surprised at,” she informed Darshan. “I figured fur was right up your alley. Nothing beats a good snack when the hunger gets going.” Actually, a kitten didn’t sound that bad at the moment. She wondered if Mace had any hanging around.
    Christian frowned mildly at Darshan, feeling the upsurge of power. It sure didn’t do anything for the toaster, now did it??
    The crashing sound that came a moment later jerked his head around, which in turn made him sway and grip the counter less he fall and make a complete fool of himself. By the time his vision cleared, he saw Gift was now laying on a pile of rubble and splinters, with broken liquor bottles scattered all around her. The woman herself was squirming a little, muttering and shooting dark looks towards them.
    Eventually, it seemed too much effort for her to actually move away though, so she just let her arms flop out and stared at the ceiling. Which was further away than before. Hmmm. Christian was turning back to the toaster when she said contemplatively, “You know, I think this is the first time I can admit to a /literal/ pain in my ass.”
    Christian smirked and licked his finger, rolling his eyes towards Darshan. “I don’t think you get to help anymore.” That said, he touched the toaster with his moist finger and that electrical feel came to the air again. A sharp pop filled the room, and the microwave and blender started smoking.
    That mild frown came back to Christian’s face. “This isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.”

    “I’ve got to have that form anyway, if you want anything to happen to your body,” the artist grunted, pushing to his feet and swaggering over to the counter. He pulled out a clipboard and pushed it towards Sahar, handing a pen over. “Fill out the top part, sign on the bottom. Need to see some ID too.”
    “Tasteful,” C.J. echoed on a purr, looking through the offered designs herself.
    Queenie considered. “Well, I’ve already got a tattoo. I’ve thought about doing the belly though.” With a complete lack of modesty, she lifted the hem of her dress up to her ribs, displaying the scarlet thong and her flat belly. She absently poked her navel and shrugged. “Okay, belly piercing it is.”
    The artist was enjoying the view with a little grin, eyes fixed on a particular part of Queenie’s person. “Sign the form. How about you??” His eyes flicked to C.J.
    The tiger turned glazed, happy eyes to the artist. “I’m thinking’ ‘bout ‘nother tattoo. One can always use ‘nother tat. But I dunno whatta get.” She frowned at all of the selections. “Sahar, wha’d’ya think??”

    “A very long time,” Blaise said, but not as if it bothered her. She was perfectly aware of why Ash felt the need to drown his sorrows in liquor, and it generally didn’t bother her. It was his life and he’d have to come out of it eventually. “He’s not bothering anybody though, so let him get it out.” She led the way to the elevator once the door was closed.

    Galen was silent for a moment, stroking his hand down her back and feeling her back rise and fall as she breathed deeply. "I don't know, Keller." He paused, thinking. "Maybe you should call in, and see if anyone has heard anything? If you know what's going on, you'll better be able to judge whether or not you should get involved." It was hard, deciding when to protect the ones you loved, and when to let them protect themselves.

    The conversation ended, Anna pocketed her phone and waited patiently - and silently - as the elevator descended. The doors slid open, and she allowed Price to lead her outside by the elbow. "There's a car coming around," she said, somewhat unnecessarily. She crossed her arms after he had released her elbow, looking blankly up the drive and waiting for the car.

    "I love you, too," Gamble said, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He gave her another soft kiss on the lips, then placed another on her forehead before stepping away from her.
    "Go ahead and make your call," he said, with a faint smile. "Come into the kitchen when you're done, and help me out with bakin' the cookies."
    He smiled once more, and disappeared into the kitchen.

    The promise of more fussing made Ai wrinkle her nose, but she smiled anyway. She couldn't help it. "You're a sweet man," she said. Of course, there were people who would disagree, but he had always been sweet to her.
    Of course, she might be forced to revise that opinion, she reflected. "Don't push your luck, handsome," she mock-scolded, waggling a finger at him. "You don't have any excuse for excessive fussing right now."

    "Not when I'm human," Darshan said, waving a hand and watching as it moved in double for a moment before his vision settled. "Then I have to take bites, and the fur is bothersome, and they squirm a lot. Now, if I'm a dragon, they just go down in one gulp. That's just fine."
    He ignored the table, and grunted at Christian, but didn't feel any need to stop helping, since the vampire didn't seem to be having any better luck. He touched the toaster with one finger, and shot another bolt of power through it. This time, it worked better, but some of it escaped through the top and hit the faucet. The faucet writhed like a snake for a moment, before melting into a twisted curve. "Well."

    "I want lots of things to happen to my body," Sahar muttered, but went to fill out the paperwork anyway. She fished her ID out from under her bra strap and placed it on the counter, then took the pen and started to write, filling in the blanks in a scrawling cursive.
    "Nipples!" she insisted to Queenie. She glanced at C.J. when she asked about what she should get, and considered that, her eyes slightly glazed. Then she smiled lazily. "Tools of the trade, babe. Maybe you should get, uh, some musical notes, or something?"

    "C'est la vie," Irene said, with a shrug, obviously saying that Ash's drunkenness was none of her business. All the same, she was quietly wondering how she could /use/ that. Sure she felt bad for the guy, loosing his soulmate and all, but he was the enemy now. They all were, even the agreeable Blaise.
    "So, how did you get involved in this charming little enterprise?"

    Keller took another breath, squinching her eyes tighter before letting them open. “No,” she decided, trying to sound as calm as she wanted to be about this decision. “It is Price’s life, and he’d be mad if I pried into something he wants to keep me out of. So, for tonight, I’ll let it go.” No promises about tomorrow.
    The decision made, she gave a bare nod to herself before lifting her head. Galen’s hand stroking her back made her feel a little better and she smiled, their faces close. Leaning forward that little back, she gently ran her nose down the length of his cheekbone, breathing in his scent, which helped more. “He told you he’d set up that meeting with Darshan. Did he say anything else about that??”

    “Good,” Price said, voice calm. “You should have fun hanging out with the band for a little while.” And she should be safe. That was his biggest concern at the moment, her own feelings even put to the side. As long as she was, she could be as mad at him as she wanted to be. They could figure that out later.

    Julianna looked after Gamble, probably a bit more of her heart on her face than was good for anyone’s well being. But that was just the way she was and she was still smiling when she pulled out her phone.
    Hitting speed dial, she went over to perch lightly on the couch with a small sigh. What a day it had been, and how strange that her sister wasn’t answering. Cujo came over to lay his head on her knee and she rubbed his ears absently as the line clicked, then began to ring again. This one was answered immediately.
    “Juli.”
    “Ethan,” she said with surprise. Pleasant, but still surprise. “Why are Gift’s calls transferring to you??”
    “I figured you’d know, if anyone,” he said, and there was a wry note to his voice that made her smile. “She’s been popular tonight too. Price Kee called her earlier.”
    Brows rose. “Oh, do tell.” She listened with interest as he filled her on what had happened, and what his men had reported back to him. That…couldn’t be a good thing. She’d need to look into that, because that meant horrible things for Price. And Price didn’t need that.
    “Do you think it’d be too much effort to have someone look in on him tonight??” she asked, still rubbing Cujo’s ears. “That makes me nervous.”
    A brief silence, followed by a breath blowing out. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
    The smile was obvious in her voice as she murmured, “Thank you Ethan. Now I’m gonna tell you something, but you can’t get all up in arms about it. I was gonna tell Gift, but since she’s incommunicado, it’s all on you.” And she proceeded to tell him about Ry Densevetti; how they’d met the night before, how she’d told Gift to run a screen on him, and what had happened at Gamble’s house.
    Once it was over, a good ten minutes of talking, silence met her. A good deal of silence and Julianna could vision Ethan already loading up to go hunting. “Ethan, I said you couldn’t.”
    “Someone’s threatening you, Juli,” Ethan replied instantly, and his voice was flat and cold. “And this name I’ve heard before. I’m going to find out why.”
    Which meant he was going to find Ry and break his legs. A slight exasperated sigh blew past Julianna’s lips. “Ethan, not now. I just want you to run his name through the system and see what comes out. Don’t go hunting. I still want to know what his story is.” Silence met her again and her voice became stern, “Ethan, promise me.”
    “Where are you staying tonight??” was the response and she rolled her eyes.
    “I don’t know yet, but I’ll call and let you know when I do. And you know I’ll be safe, Ethan.”
    “I don’t like it Juli.”
    “I know, but just do this for me. I want to find stuff out before you start shooting.” She finally got a grudging agreement and a promise to run the name, and she hung up her phone with a shake of her head.

    A mock pained look came to Patrick’s face and he looked around in exaggerated secret. “Now now, luv, dun ye be sayin’ tha’ too loud. Ye’ll ruin ma reputation an’ all.” He smiled then and took another sip of wine.
    “No’ right now,” he agreed, eyes gleaming wickedly in the dim lighting. “But dun think I canna find one. Now I’m tempted tae try, just ‘cause I can.” And Ai was so cute when she was being fussed over, and it was for a good reason. Like she wanted to protest but swallowed it back. Really, he imagined most women would like to be fussed over.
    But ahh, not the women in his life.

    “Well in human, fair enough,” Gift conceded. “But then you can just skin them. Perfect little bite sized morsels then. With no fur.”
    “Easier just to get the prepackaged stuff,” Christian pointed out, with a soft burp. “You are so not helping,” he observed a moment later, when Darshan managed to melt the faucet. “We’re supposed to be fixing his toaster, not ruining his tap. How are they gonna get water out of there now??”
    Gift wiggled again, deciding the splinter poking her ass wasn’t so funny two minutes later. It was…well, a pain in the ass, not to put too fine a point on it. Raising her hips, she managed to maneuver herself a little sideways and felt her back resting on smooth tile. That was better.
    Just in time to hear Christian go, “See, it goes like this.” And the ozone smell came back into the room, thicker and stronger than before. Gift’s nose wiggled in distaste. Her left ear popped and she reached up a hand to press it to her forehead. Barely managing not to poke her eye.
    “Okay, you two need to stop that now. I don’t think Mace is going to appreciate your efforts on his behalf tomorrow morning.”
    “That’s fine, I fixed it,” Christian said quite smugly. Because the toaster was making a nice little humming sound. Without being plugged in. And with a wide black circle spanning beneath it, covering pretty much the whole counter top.

    The artist’s brows lifted with another grin. “Tease,” he accused, taking the form once she’d filled it out, and filling out the ID information.
    “No, ow,” Queenie complained to Sahar, letting her dress fall back into place. Or, kind of. The left side caught on her hip and she didn’t bother straightening it. Instead, she reached for her own form and filled it out with a quick sweep of her hand. “Belly piercing, that’s it.”
    “Well I’ve already got the sticks,” C.J. said, a little doubtfully as she flipped through a few design books. “And I’ve got Darshan’s name. And the stripes and foxglove. Hey.” She looked up at her friends, blinking big dark eyes. “Maybe I’ll juss get the nipples pierced. I’m sure D would like that.” A lazy, seductive smile curved her lips, eyes going heavy lidded. “Yeah, maybe I’ll juss do that.”

    Blaise shrugged elegantly at Irene’s take on things. Sounded about right, and as said before, wasn’t any bother to her. Ash had to get it out some way. Better than turning into a rampaging killer, like /some/ people.
    The idea caused a twist of distaste on her mouth, before she glanced at Irene again. “Why not??” she asked in a slightly bored tone. “Nothing better to do, since Daybreak took over. And why did you finally decide to join the darker side of life??”

    Galen sighed, a soft and contented sound, as she rubbed her face against his. Touching Keller helped, no matter how tense things had become. In this frame of mind, he continued to stroke her back, curling his fingers against her spine beneath the fabric of her robe to bring her in closer.
    "Not much," he admitted. "That he'd call you after he set up the meeting, and that you should keep your schedule open." Not exactly an easy request, considering how in demand he and Keller were at Daybreak, but this was important.
    A dragon.
    Galen sighed again, and this time it wasn't so contented.

    The brief flash of annoyance that crossed Anna's face said clearly that /fun/ was not on her agenda. "Yes, I'm sure that the partying and the drinking will be very entertaining. Just the sort of thing to distract me from... God, Price." She looked like she might say more, but then she stopped, inhaling sharply and shaking her head. It didn't do any good to be speaking when she felt like this. She'd say something impolite, something she'd regret later, no matter how true it was.

    In the kitchen, there was the clatter of cookie sheets and mixing bowls as Gamble went about gathering what they would need to make dessert. He popped a chocolate chip in his mouth, chewing on it meditatively as he half-listened to Julianna's side of the conversation in the other room. He had never been that nosy, but he was more worried than he was letting on, and... well, maybe she was rubbing off on him.
    "Ethan?" he asked, once she had hung up, even though he knew the answer. The more violent side of his nature approved. Where Julianna was concerned, Ethan seemed much more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Gamble wished that wasn't necessary, that Ry would just go away now that he had been thwarted once, but he seemed like the determined type.
    Which brought up some unpleasant questions about what he would have to do if Ry got it into his head to come back to the ranch.

    "Come now, Patrick," Ai protested. "That's hardly going against your reputation. I can't be the only one who knows that you're sweet as pie to the ladies in your life." It was one of the reasons that she liked him. Because he treated women - even those who wouldn't /typically/ be called ladies - well.
    "I'm sure that you would find a reason to fuss, if you looked hard enough," Ai admitted. "You're a very resourceful man. And knowing you, if you couldn't find one, you'd make one up."

    "Too much trouble," Darshan said simply. "Why bother, when all you're getting is a mouthful?"
    "I think the faucet will still work," he added, his tone thoughtful. He so wasn't going to turn it on and find out. The faucet might still work, but with the power that had gone into it, there was no knowing what would come /out/ of it. The thought made him chuckle darkly to himself, a bit like a mad scientist. Then he looked surprised, as if he wasn't sure that the sound had come from him.
    "It's not plugged in," he said, when Christian finally managed to fix the toaster. Then he shrugged. "Well, they'll save on electricity."

    "So I've been told," Sahar told the tattooist, with a drunken grin of her own.
    She flashed a thumbs-up at C.J. when the drummer decided to be brave and go for the nipples. Then she paused, and wrinkled her nose a little. "Although, what you an' Darshan do behind closed doors..." She could imagine C.J. being naughty, but thinking about Darshan having sex was kind of like imagining her mother having sex. She knew it was possible, even likely, but her brain shied away from actually making the connection.
    "Who's going first?"

    "That seems fair," Irene said, half-lidded eyes taking in every nuance of Blaise's reaction, from the grimace of distaste to the boredom on her perfectly sculpted face. "I can't say that my motives were that dissimilar. The pay was good, and I was getting bored." She smiled briefly. "The spy gig is fun, but after a while, you know everything about everybody, and then where do you go?"

    Keller breathed in softly as his fingers curled against her spine. The decision felt right and she could make herself deal with it, as long as Price checked in tomorrow. If she hadn’t heard from him by noon, then she was going to find out what was going on with her son.
    That amendment made her feel better and she smiled against Galen’s skin, before inquiring about the meeting. Keeping her schedule open might be difficult, but it was workable, because it meant she got to stay with Galen alone all morning anyway. At least until he was called away for his own duties.
    “We’ll work it out,” she murmured, hearing the different tone of his sigh this time. The day’s information was crowding in her mind and she knew they had several dragons on the scene now, one with obvious malicious intentions, but they’d managed a similar situation before and come out the victor. They could do it again. Especially with all of the help they had this time around.

    A beat of silence followed Anna’s exclamation, before Price turned to face her fully. His eyes were still black but blank, his face painfully neutral still. “Anna,” he said softly, reaching out to take one of her hands. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important to me. I wouldn’t ask you to hang out with the band, no less. And I don’t want to tell you why it’s important to me because it’ll worry you.” And nothing she could imagine would be worse than what was said, he thought, but he knew better than to say that. “I’m not doing this to make you mad or offend you. You need to trust me this time.”

    Julianna looked at her phone for a minute, her expression fondly exasperated, before she went to the kitchen. The clanging of pots and pans made her smile as she went to prop a hip against the table. “Ethan,” she agreed, eyes rolling. “I should’ve just waited to tell Gift. I bet he’s already tracking down Ry and preparing to break bones.” Poor Ry. Was he even aware of what he’d done??
    “What can I do??” she asked then, focusing on the task at hand. The only way to have cookies was to get started making them, and she really wanted one now.

    “Ye are one o’ tha few people who know ma weakness,” Patrick pointed out with a smile. Because women were a big one for him. Most of his colleagues didn’t know that because it was an obvious weakness to use, but he didn’t worry about those that did know spilling the beans.
    “I would,” he agreed, completely unabashed. Refilling his glass, eyes twinkling some more, he added, “So it’d be better all ‘round if ye just accept tha inevitable and use it tae yer own benefit.”

    “It’s the squirming,” Gift decided, gazing up at the ceiling, with its fashionable big hole. “I like to watch them squirm.”
    Christian was eyeing the faucet doubtfully but didn’t seem inclined to test it out himself either. He’d fixed the toaster, which was still humming quite splendidly, and that took care of his good will for the night.
    That was about the time the smoke detector started going off though. A small piercing wail, which made Gift flinch, as the smoke from the microwave wafted up to test its batteries. Without looking, Christian aimed a finger over his shoulder. “No.” A sharp crackle filled the air and another small piece of the ceiling fell to the floor. The smoke detector remained where it was, but it stopped wailing and started smoking itself, at least.

    The tattooist chuckled at them, clearly glad he’d managed to get the late night shift.
    C.J. smiled widely at Sahar. “D and I do a /lot/ behind closssed doors. It’s fuuun. Like when he---”
    “Stop,” Queenie cut in, slicing a hand over her throat to complete the command. “If I hear any details, I worry I won’t be able to look him in the eye, and that would suck worse than his being in control right now.” Because he’d probably know /why/ she couldn’t, and then she’d have to make a comment, and it would just spiral from there.
    The tiger giggled, eyes dreamy behind the thick glaze, and Queenie rolled her eyes. “I’ll go first, since you’re still decidin’, little cub.” Since her form was already filled out, the tattooist led her deeper into the parlor and pulled a curtain for a semblance of privacy.

    Blaise accepted that with ease, either because it was similar or because she didn’t care that much. “You are a spy, aren’t you,” she murmured, trying to recall exactly what she’d heard of Irene Adler. “And do you truly believe you know everything about everyone??”

    "Of course we will," Galen agreed automatically. Of course they'd work it out. How could they do anything else?
    He continued to stroke her back, enjoying the contrast between the roughness of the terrycloth, and the softness of her damp hair. "I'll clear my schedule for tomorrow," he said quietly. "This is too important, and I don't want you to meet with him alone." He would worry about her too much if she went to see the dragon on her own, no matter how peaceable Darshan supposedly was. Better to just be there with her.

    Anna started to withdraw her hand from his, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she let it hang limp in his grasp. She couldn't quite manage neutrality in her expression, and there was a certain tightness around her eyes, although her forehead remained smooth and her mouth was relaxed. "I know, Price. Do you think that I don't understand? You think that I need to go into hiding, and I agree. There's nothing for me to do, nothing I can do, and I'm likely to be a liability if I don't hide.
    "But can't you see were I'm coming from, too? I'm going to worry no matter what. For all I know, you're going to be the next one that someone finds dead, and there's nothing - /nothing/ - that I can do. And I don't even know why."

    "He need any help?" Gamble asked lazily. Because even if he was quite certain that Ethan needed no aid when it came to bone breaking and other acts of violence, he felt the need to voice his approval. He was generally a laid back sort of person, but when it came to keeping Julianna safe...
    Then the topic turned to the making of cookies, which was a much more pleasant topic, he thought. "Get me the flour out of the freezer, and the carton of eggs in the 'fridge? Are we makin' a double batch?"

    "In that case, I'm flattered." Ai smiled at him, and held out her glass for a refill. Wine didn't have that much of an effect on a vampire's system, but between it and the company, she was feeling nicely relaxed, her eyelids half-closed and her muscles soft with lagor.
    She rolled her eyes beneath their drooping lashes, and waved a hand. "Fine, since I can't escape it, you have my permission to fuss."

    Darshan leaned his back against the counter, and slowly slid down the cupboards until he was sitting on the floor again. He felt quite proud about the fact that he was sitting, and not face-down. Lazily, he began to trace designs on the linoleum with his fingertip. After a moment, an idea seemed to strike him, and black power crackled. Now, wherever he trailed his finger, a black scorch mark was left behind.
    "Weren't we supposed to be planning... something?" he wondered. He placed his palm against the floor, leaving a burn mark in the shape of his hand.

    "I can't hear you!" Sahar said childishly when C.J. started to give out details on her and Darshan's sex life. She even plugged her ears with her fingers, and then swayed dangerously when this put her off balance.
    "You need someone to hold your hand while he pokes you?" Sahar asked, glancing over the designs on the wall absently.

    "I am at that," Irene said, sounding like she was pleased to be reminded of this fact. She smiled silkily at Blaise's question, secretly. "Well, maybe not... everything." The fact that she knew /almost/ everything was obviously implied.

    Keller was silent for a moment, considering if she wanted to say something or not. Common sense said it would likely be best if the first son of the Drache House was present at this particular meeting, or at least it couldn’t hurt. A more particular part said she’d rather cancel the meeting than have Galen anywhere near another dragon, when he’d been so hurt the last time they’d dealt with one.
    The particular part won out. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” she commented, voice calm and almost casual. “You’re going to need to conference with your parents some more, I’m sure, and if we both disappear, Thierry is bound to start getting worried. I could meet with him while you go to Daybreak headquarters, then let you know what I find out afterwards so you can pass the word right along.”

    The limpness of her hand made something tighten around Price’s eyes, though likely not for the reason she’d think of. Not to mention they felt colder than normal, even if they were infinitely warmer than his. “Anna,” he said, liking the feel of her name in his mouth. He always had. “He doesn’t want to kill me. He wants to kill everyone around me. That’s the problem. Beyond that, I actually don‘t know why he‘s doing this.” A little bit of honesty thrown in. Price /didn’t/ know why he’d been targeted, when there were clearly more important people than him moving around Vegas at the moment. Maybe because he’d had a meeting with Darshan earlier?? Maybe he needed to pay the dragon a visit of his own.

    Julianna gave her boyfriend the darkest look she could come up with at the moment, though a hint of that exasperated fondness remained in her voice. “No, thank you. In fact, why don’t you just steer clear of Ethan for a while. Your ranch needs you just where you are.” She was even starting to feel a little sorry for Ry now. Really, he hadn’t /done/ anything, so to speak. Yet, anyway. No reason for the bone breaking to start right this second.
    “Of course we are,” she decided promptly when he inquired about the double batch, because a nice handful of cookies would make a delightful breakfast tomorrow. Going to retrieve the requested items, she felt a panting warmth at her side as soon as she pulled the ‘fridge door open. “Uh huh, I know what you want,” she muttered to Cujo as the schnauzer nuzzled her thigh. Didn’t stop her from filching a piece of chicken from the leftovers and giving it to him though.
    She closed the door with her hip and stepped light and jaunty over to Gamble, handing the ingredients over with a flourish. “Anything else, m’dear??”

    Smiling again, Patrick obligingly refilled her glass. “Ye deserve tae feel many things, luv.” Topping up his own glass again, he set the bottle aside and slouched a bit more in the booth.
    Delightful wickedness flashed through his gleaming eyes and his smile widened. “’Ow lovely. Should I begin now or give ye a minute or two??”

    The feel of dark dragon power swelling in the room made Gift’s head thunk sideways, so she was able to see Darshan on the floor. When had everyone shrunk so much?? “What are you doing??”
    “Leaving his mark, so Mace will know who fixed his toaster tomorrow,” Christian decided, eyes having drooped to watch his friend. “Though doesn’t that mean /I/ should be leaving my mark?? Hmmm.” He looked with a half-thoughtful, half-quizzical gaze around the kitchen, as if deciding /where/ to leave his mark.
    Gift let out a groaning laugh and got her elbows under her. She even managed to push herself up on the first try. “I think we planned it earlier,” she decided, looking at Darshan and refusing to follow his dizzying path as Christian started to wander around the kitchen. “We’ll remember tomorrow, after the headaches go away.”
    “I don’t get headaches,” Christian said absently, touching a finger to the backdoor. The ozone smell came back, thick and cloying, and the hinges on the cabinets closest to him melted, making the doors swing open and list deeply.

    C.J. giggled madly at Sahar’s childish refusals, even moreso when the lioness tipped. Because she was feeling really warm and quite childish herself, she even reached out and pushed her friend with a finger, to see if she’d really fall over.
    “No thank you, I’m fine,” Queenie hollered back as she disappeared with the poker. Having made up her mind, C.J. meandered over to a comfy looking couch and sprawled out.
    “Oh man, I dun think I’ma gonna be movin’ anytime soon now,” she slurred happily, kicking one leg up to rest on the couch with her. Which was just proven when a deep-throated yelp echoed out into the waiting room.
    “Pussy!” C.J. yelled back cheerfully. “I didn’t even whimper when I gots my belly dones.”

    Blaise’s eyes were calm but curious as she glanced sidelong at Irene. “Anything interesting on our companions, I feel obliged to ask??” The elevator dinged then and the doors slid smoothly open. The Harman gestured with half-hearted courtesy to the vampire, allowing her to exit first.

    "Keller," Galen said, moving his hands from her back to rest them firmly on her shoulders. "No. My parents can wait, and if Thierry worried where we are, he'll eventually just figure that we're spending some well-deserved couple time. I'm coming with you, and that's that." No matter how many thinly-veiled excuses she gave him, although he didn't say that. He could understand her worry well, since he shared it. Another reason that he wasn't going to let her meet with the dragon alone.

    It wasn't a comforting response, but something in Anna relaxed, as if hearing the truth was enough. Still, she watched him with far too perceptive brown eyes for a moment longer before nodding. "Okay, Price. That's enough, for now at least." She sighed, and reached out to brush his collar with the knuckles of her free hand before letting it drop. Her eyes darted towards the street as a long white limo pulled up, and she recognized Nona through the tinted windows, sitting in the passenger’s side next to the drive. "Just stay safe, alright? And call your mother.”

    "I know that look," Gamble said, reaching out to brush a lock of her hair away from her face. "Don't you go feelin' bad for that boy. He was up to no good, sure as day. Better that someone take care of him before he goes and becomes a real problem."
    With that, however, he seemed happy to let the topic drop, and turn his attention to more important things, like cookies. "Naw, I have the rest of it. Want to pre-heat the oven?" He snagged an apron off of a hook on the wall and tossed it on, looking surprisingly domestic in the midst of his mixing bowls and flour and sugar.

    The flash of wickedness in Patrick's eyes made an answering flash of mock-wariness go through Ai's, but in spite of that, the curve of her lips was amused and she didn't seem inclined to protest.
    In fact, she waved a hand through the air and said, "Any time you like. Might as well get it over with."

    "You don't get headaches," Darshan said, with remarkable lucidity, "but you... what's the term... barf your guts out?" He tilted his head back, and winced when he accidentally slammed it into the cupboard. "Bloody Marys tomorrow to help us recover," he said, in a rather prescriptive way. "Except without the tomato juice. That's disgusting."
    Of course, what he intended to substitute for the tomato juice was probably best left unsaid.
    Then the hinges on the cabinet that he had so recently thunked his head into melted. Darshan made a vague, contemplative sound.

    Sahar swayed and staggered, but much her surprise, managed to remain upright after C.J. poked her. She grinned, proud of herself.
    "Maybe he can take care of you out here," she suggested when the other woman said she wouldn't be moving for a while. There was a licentious cast to the words 'take care of,' because it was Sahar and she just couldn't help herself. She glanced around for somewhere to sit herself, saw that the nearest chair was across the room, and finally just shrugged and lounged against one of the glass cases filled with jewelry.

    "They're an interesting bunch," Irene said, with a sly smile. "Anything more than that, and you'll have to pay. Either that, or offer up a little information of your own in exchange." She shrugged, her mouth forming an apologetic little moue. "I'm sorry. I don't give away anything for free. It sets a bad standard, you know?"

    Keller stared at his chest for a second, a few lines forming between her brows as she thought about it. Her stubbornness was threatening to come out in response to the ultimatum in his voice, but her common sense won out in the end. By a hair.
    With a soft sigh, she finally gave a slow nod. "Alright. We'll go together. It might be easier to judge with both of us there." Because his romanticism, considering what they'd heard during the day, would balance her indifference. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together.

    Price wanted to catch her hand when it fell, hold it tightly and refuse to let it go. Because if she was with him, at least he knew she was safe. Or the situation she was in, at any rate.
    But he was planning to go right into the jaws of the stalking lion, and it would be homicidal of him to take Anna along. So he merely nodded, keeping the emotion from his face, as the limo pulled up. His sharp eyes picked out the figures inside and he managed to stifle a sigh. So much for Anna getting any sleep. Ever.
    Leaning forward, he brushed cold lips gently to her cheek. "Be safe, Anna. Please. Call my mother if anything happens, and tell her to get Gift involved." He breathed in slowly, his nose just touching her cheekbone, before stepping towards the limo to open the door for her.

    Julianna resisted the comment she wanted to make to Gamble, but did cross her eyes at his back when he returned to the kitchen. Then she giggled and followed him. She didn't believe death was an answer to the problem until absolutely nothing else was available.
    "Yes, I will pre-heat the oven," she said quite gravely, turning to face said appliance head on. Squinching her eyes, she lifted her hands and wiggled her fingers in a magical, mystical way. "Oven...oven, hear me! I command you...pre-heat! Pre-heat!" She made some wildly erratic gestures with her arms, truly fitting a magician.
    Cujo, sitting by the table, made a quizzical sound.

    A thoughtful smile tilted the corners of his mouth as Patric's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Actually, no, luv. I think I'll bide ma time, and start the fussin' on ma own terms."

    "I," Christian said, bringing himself to a straighter position with great dignity, "have not puked myself silly in a very long time."
    "Then again, when was the last time you drank this much??" Gift mumbled, blinking very slowly.
    He did not have an answer to that. Which only made the images of the upcoming days even more horrible to face.
    "I prefer a nice, cold beer," Gift was saying to Darshan. "It soothes the fire and the nausea." She looked around, eyes going in and out of focus as she took in the kitchen. Even with the great big hole in the ceiling, it had definitely been in better shape before they'd started "strategizing."

    C.J. blew a raspberry when her friend managed to stay upright. Or at least kind of. "Can he takes care o'me ou'ere??" she mumbled, the falling into a sitting position obviously having a detrimental effect on her ability to speak. "Wha's I gettin'??"
    She looked over when she heard a little moan from the back. "Queenie?? How's ya doin'??"
    "It hurts, bitch!" was the yelled response.

    "How much does it cost for information these days??" Blaise inquired, though her voice had taken on her usual bored tone.

    Galen waited silently while Keller battled with herself, knowing her well enough to recognize her conflict. He also knew her well enough to know that pushing her any farther would be /too/ far, and that holding his tongue really was the best option right now. He relaxed a little when she relented. Not that her refusal would have stopped him -- he could be stubborn, too -- but it was much easier on both of them if they were in agreement.
    "Good," he said, with a nod of his own. He could see that she was right, too, now that he was thinking past the knee-jerk desire to keep her safe when she was walking into potential danger as big as a dragon. Two points of view could be, and often had been, better than one. "What do we do until Price sets it up?" he wondered.

    "/You/ call your mother," Anna repeated, closing her eyes when his nose brushed her cheek. Actually, she was seeing a fair resemblance between him and his mother, right then. Both of them could be disturbingly single-minded, especially in their conviction that they had to protect others from danger while running heedlessly towards it themselves. Maybe she should ask Galen how he handled it.
    All the same, she climbed into the car without further protest. Fang leaned across her to look at Price, and waggled his eyebrows in a manner which was probably supposed to be suggestive. "Don't worry. We'll take /good/ care of your girl."

    With a helpless laugh, Gamble snatched the hand towel from where it was hanging on the door of the fridge and swatted Julianna with it playfully. "Alright, that's it. You've gone and insulted my oven. Now git, before the toaster swears vengeance and the blender puts you on it's bad list."
    "Also, you're confusin' the mutt," he added, before reaching past her to set the oven to the proper tempurature. "It's okay, darlin'," he told it, "she just doesn't know how to sweet-talk you proper."

    "I knew I should have set an expiration date on that offer," Ai said, eyeing him. "Now you're going to spring it on me, when I'm not expecting it. I broker contracts every day," she added, with mock-disgust, "but all of it goes flying out of my head the moment that Patrick Redwood turns his big blue eyes on me. No wonder you've done so well for yourself."

    "Maybe you just don't remember the last time you puked yourself silly," Darshan said. Rather slyly, he thought.
    "Beer," he murmured, grimacing in a way that said 'ew' without the word ever passing his ancient, dignified, and presently numb lips. "Did the Egyptians make it better, Christian? Because I can't say much in its favor now." And he had been asleep when the Egyptians had been brewing. It seemed that he had missed all the fun parts of human history. Instead of Cleopatra, he got... Brittney Spears. It really wasn't fair.

    Sahar looked at C.J. when the other woman asked what she had intended to get. Then she grinned. "I don't think I should tell you," she announced. "Then it'll be a suprise when he sits down with ya."
    She swayed. Managed to stay standing. Barely.

    "That depends on what you want to know," Irene replied serenely, as they stepped into the hotel bar.

    The look on Keller's face was still one of grudging acceptance, because she knew he wouldn't have accepted anything but hers. And it was better to walk into it together than have him have to sneak in. She couldn't imagine Darshan Guivre liking that idea.
    Something lightened the look after Galen's inquiry, and she gave him a faint smile. "I would suggest us sleeping, or at least resting, because I doubt we're going to get much chance starting tomorrow." This was one of those things that was going to take a while to fix, she had the feeling. Even with all of the people working on it.

    "I didn't mean about explaining this to her," Price murmured. "If something...happens." He actually wanted to give her Gift's direct line, but he didn't think the assassin cared to have her number passed out to everyone. Then again, considering the images he'd been forced to see in his mind tonight...
    The limo's arrival cut that thought off and he reached to open the door. Fang's words, while not surprising, had a surprising effect on Price. Red stained his cheekbones again and a look of such uncontained rage filled his eyes for a brief moment, before he again swallowed it back. He didn't respond to Fang, knowing he would say something he couldn't take back, and instead looked at Nona. "If something happens, call Gift." Not that he imagined the Hunter needed that special instruction, but he was minorly relieved to know someone would be with Anna who had direct contact to the assassin after all.

    "Ow!" Julianna yelped, rubbing her backside with a grieved expression. Her eyes were still laughing though. "What made me deserve that?? The oven and I were having a nice little conversation here. And the toaster and I already have an agreement." Gaze sliding sideways, she bit her lip on another giggle. "I'm still working on the blender."
    Hearing Cujo whine again, she went over and fondled his ears some more. Eyes rolled as Gamble addressed the oven. "You can talk to it, but I can't??" she complained good-naturedly. "How fair is that??"

    A rumbling laugh echoed deep in Patrick's belly and he caressed Ai's shoulder. "Tha's it exactly, luv," he said solemnly, light eyes twinkling still, "I've gotten this far in life jus' by battin' my baby blues. Dun let an'one e'er tell ye that eyes aren't important."

    "Don't remember, never have, it's all the same to me," Christian said with an eloquent shrug.
    Gift let out a weird little sound, somewhere between a snort, a giggle, and a snicker. Then she looked at Darshan, actually trying to figure out what he'd just said. "Are you saying you haven't had a beer since you woke up??" she asked slowly.
    Christian let out a startlingly loud whoop of laughter. "It's improved," he assured the dragon.

    "'Kay," C.J. said all too agreeably, head lolling to one side. It was hard to tell if her easy agreement was because of the alcohol, or simply because she was used to surprises in her life.
    Just then, the curtain whisked back and Queenie pranced out into the lobby. Her dress was pulled up, displaying the red thong and the equally red belly-button currently sporting a twinkling diamond. "Well??" she purred, as the tattooist followed her out.
    "Hot," C.J. chimed helpfully, then frowned in puzzlement went the man pointed at her. "Wha??"
    "You next," he said patiently. "Hers," he jerked his head at Sahar, "will probably take the longest, so let's get you done before you pass out."
    "Cans ya d'it here??"
    "No."
    "Oh poo."

    "Interesting," Blaise murmured, slinking calmly to the bar and taking a seat on the stool. She crossed her legs and smiled at the bartender. "Martini, dry."