I was dimly aware of Racey fading into the background like a good best friend. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her settle into a seat at'the bar. Then I was at his table, and he pushed the chair out the rest of the way for me, I sat down, dropped the halter on the table, and reached over for his drink. Our eyes stayed locked as I took a sip-he was drinking iced espresso, which seemed impossibly cool. He was perfection. The ultimate. And I was going to show him that we were a matched set.

"I haven't seen you here before," I said, thrilled to hear my voice sound a tiny bit husky, a tiny bit lower than usual. This close, I could see that his eyes were actually an incredibly dark blue, like the sky at midnight. It made him look that much more intense.

“I’m new in town," he said, and he had a French accent God help me.

"How are you liking the local scenery?" I asked, and drank more of his coffee.

He looked at me, and I felt like he was picturing me lying down somewhere with him and he was thinking about what we would do when we got there. My heartbeat sped up.

Tm liking it," he said, understanding my meaning. He took back his glass and drank from it, "I'm Andre."

I smiled, "Clio."

"Clio," he repeated, and my name with a French accent sounded incredible, I spoke some French, like my grandmother did. Our religion was all based in French from hundreds of years ago. But I didn't have an accent, I mean, except an American one, "Tell me, Clio," he said, leaning toward me over the small table. "Are you what you seem? Would you be dangerous for me to know?"

"Yes, And no," I said steadily, lying through my teeth, I had no idea what I seemed to be, and no way would I tell him that I was dangerous only because I didn't intend to ever let him get away, "What about you?" I asked, feeling like I was walking some fine edge, "Are you dangerous for me to know?"