"But it was worth it," I said firmly, checking out my rear view. "I love Amadeos-full of college guys and tourists. Didn't you have fun?" I smiled, remembering how I hadn't needed to buy myself a single drink-and not because I was working on those guys with spells. It had been just good old-fashioned female charm,

"Yeah, I did, but my magick wasn't worth crap the next day. The alcohol."

"There is that" I admitted, deciding to buy the halter. Someday I'd have to find a way around that annoying truth. I pushed my black hair over my shoulders, then saw how it looked against my skin in back. Excellent, Thanks, Mom, Nan had one picture of my mom, and I looked like hen black hair, green eyes, and the weirdest thing of all, we both had a strawberry birthmark in the exact same place, I was still trying to decide if I wanted to get it lasered off-it was on my left cheekbone and looked like, well, frankly, what it looked like depended on how much you'd had to drink. Sometimes a small thistle flower, sometimes an animal footprint (Racey said a very tiny three-toed sloth), sometimes a fleur-de-lis. And my mom, who had died when I was born, had had the same thing, Quelk bizarre, nest-cepas?

I was heading back into the cubicle when I felt, literally felt, someone's gaze on me, I looked through the few clothing racks out to the main part of the store. And saw him.

My breath stopped in my throat and I froze where I stood, Diesse. This was the definition of poleaxed, this stunned feeling, where time stood still and all that crap.

"What?" said Racey, almost bumping into me. She followed my line of vision. "Whoa."

The Hottest Guy in the World was staring right at me, I've known my share of hot guys, but this one was in a whole different league. His sable-colored hair was too long, as if he couldn't be bothered to get it cut prop' erly. Dark eyebrows angled sharply over dark eyes. He was young but with strong features, like a man, not a boy. In that instant, I knew we would be together. And I also knew that he wouldn't be easy to wrap around my little finger, like other guys. His open, interested look was a challenge. One that I was going to accept.