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slipped down the hall.
    South Dakota , he’d heard Sarah say. Jacques was apparently up to his old tricks: waiting out in the rough where few people would search. The troupe had hunkered down in The Outback in a similar manner forty years before—after Jacques had kidnapped a trio of aboriginal shapeshifters. He’d never been brought to justice for that.
    Senior believed it was time for el negrero to pay the piper, and he’d would make sure the circus master did.
    Passing the old farmhouse’s console table near the front door, he pocketed the credit card Sarah had left there the previous night after paying the pizza deliveryman.
    He’d bring it right back when he was done. He always paid back what he borrowed two-fold.
    Right now, though, he needed to find a plane headed to South Dakota.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Fabian eyed the bags Astrid deposited at his feet and raised an eyebrow. She’d gone shopping at a time like this?
    She bent over one of the bags and pulled a pair of blue jeans. She thrust them at him.
    He took them, and fixed his stare on the size label.
    “You’re about my brother’s width,” she said.
    He more or less caught the meaning. He held the jeans against his waist, trying the width for size. “Thank you.”
    She gave his wrist the barest touch and said, “You lost everything. Starting from scratch probably isn’t much fun.” She pulled her hand back, but just briefly. Her fingers flitted over his wrist again. “Oh. There’s a backpack and toiletries and stuff. You can sort through it all while I make some phone calls. Maybe you’d like to… shave .”
    Shave ?
    He rubbed his chin and felt the soft beard. Oh. That. “Maybe I like looking different from my brother.”
    She gave him a long blink and stuffed her hand into her jacket pocket.
    Okay. He got the hint. While he wouldn’t mind being a bit more distinct in appearance from his identical twin, if she wanted him to shave, he’d shave. “You…don’t like?”
    Her nose did the most darling crinkling, and he grinned.
    “No. But, it’s your face. You can do to it what you like. I figured you’d like to clean up.” She smoothed her expression back to its previous blank and shrugged with obviously feigned nonchalance.
    “Then I keep.”
    Her cheek twitched. “Suit yourself.”
    Oh, this was fun. He didn’t catch everything the little dragon was saying, but her sentiment was loud and clear.
    The past half-year had been pretty much non-stop torture, but at least he hadn’t had to shave. He’d never really grown out a mustache and beard before because when he and Felipe performed, they needed to be difficult to tell apart. When Fabian grew his hair out, Felipe had to, too. The shaving part was Fabian’s concession. Hardly seemed an equitable exchange, though, because they’d had to shave damn near everything those fucking spandex costumes didn’t cover. Chests. Legs during the warm-weather months. Armpits.
    Torture .
    He rooted through the bags and plucked out necessary odds and ends for a shower and change of clothes, suitably impressed at her thoroughness, though wondering if what she’d selected was her taste or what she thought he’d like. If she’d spent any time around Felipe at all, she might have assumed their preferences were similar. That was more or less true, given they’d shared a wardrobe most of their lives.
    He wondered what his brother wore now that he didn’t have to share?
    Fabian had been in the shower all of ten minutes and had only managed to shave his face and soap up his hair when Astrid knocked on the door.
    She let herself in without waiting for his invitation.
    He nudged the curtain back a bit and pushed up an eyebrow.
    “Phone for you.” She pointedly put her gaze anywhere but on him, not that she’d be able to see much through that little sliver of an opening.
    “Me?”
    “Mm-hmm.”
    “Who is it?”
    “Dana.”
    Dana didn’t speak Spanish or French. He remembered this all too well. The first