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girl looked Billy over like he was hanging from a hook in a butcher shop. “Yes, I see.”
    What does she see?
    She picked up the phone. “Shaz. Your after-hours appointment is here.” She listened, then hung up. “He’s just finishing up. Please take a seat.”
    They walked to the leather couches. Man, they were supermodern but really comfortable. Probably too rich for his blood, but he could look for knockoffs.
    The girl walked over to them. Her outfit was as black as her hair—tights under a long sweater, and high-heeled boots. “Can I get you anything?” She grinned at Billy. “What’s the old saying? ‘Coffee, tea—me?’” She laughed.
    Billy hoped the low light covered his blush. “Uh, sure. Do you have tea, really?”
    “What, no me?” She chortled again. “Yeah. Want some ice tea? We have bottles.”
    “Sure, that’d be great.”
    Rhonda and Mitch asked for the same, and she left through a door into what must be the rest of whatever the hell a stylist had set up.
    Rhonda winked. “You made a conquest. She’s usually so cool about everything.”
    Conquests of women weren’t his problem. Hanging on to them was another story. “This is a nice place.”
    Rhonda nodded. “Yes. Shaz is a master of all things stylish.”
    A voice came from behind Billy. “Master, did you say, darling? Ah, call my name and I am there.” The high, musical voice danced up Billy’s spine, and he remembered the tune.
    Why was he scared to turn around? Slowly he shifted and looked over his shoulder. Holy blessed shit . It was the same guy from the coffee shop, which made sense since the place was only three blocks from here—but still. If ever there was a guy who deserved to be called Shazam, this was the one. That was the word of a wizard, and Billy just got turned to fucking stone.
    How did you get hair that color? The blaze of fire surrounded his face and fell well past his shoulders in spikes on top and undulating waves below. And his face. If somebody turned a cat, a Siamese cat, into a human, there he stood. Huge eyes with an upward tilt dominated the widest part of his face, above cheekbones so high they could cut glass, and a pointed chin. Maybe a girl would have called his face heart-shaped. Like a cat .
    Their little army of three stood. The guy floated over and kissed Rhonda on the cheek. “Never fear, Rhonda dear, Shaz is here.” He laughed at his own rhyme. Music. This guy was so far over the top, he had his own cloud cover.
    He extended a hand delicately and Mitch took it, more a touching of fingertips than a true shake. “Hello, Mitch darling.”
    Just like the day before, his clothes were wild. Skintight jeans, in brilliant pink this time, hugged very long, lightly muscled legs. Billy knew about the muscles because they were on display in those pants. Above the pink he wore a white silky-looking shirt and a wild floral kimono thing over the whole outfit. Hoops glistened in his ears and a diamond nestled in the side of his nose. He was his own holiday. Christmas and the Fourth of July rolled into one.
    He turned with a swirl of the kimono to Billy. “And this must be our emergency.” He stepped back. “Don’t we know each other, darling?”
    Billy’s mouth opened and then closed. There were no words.
    Rhonda put a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Shaz, this is my brother, Billy Ballew. We’d like you to use your magic to give Billy a bit more style.”
    Shaz looked up at Billy, his eyes widened, and he smiled, then reached out his hand again. Jesus, he wore fucking black fingernail polish. “Hello, Billy. So glad to meet you. Don’t be put off by my excesses. I’m not as dangerous as I look.” He popped his hip. “Well, maybe almost as dangerous.”
    That would be damned fucking dangerous . Billy swallowed. Give me strength . With one swoop, he swallowed that graceful hand in his giant paw and squeezed. Surprisingly Shaz didn’t even flinch. He squeezed back, and that pressure rippled up