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job, and I told him I worked in Web design. It wasn’t entirely a lie. I’d majored in it and in French. Both areas had turned out to be completely irrelevant to my job, though Lara swore having a Web site would drive up our business. We mostly relied on word of mouth now.
    When he told me he was a veterinarian, I said, “No, you aren’t.”
    Those smoldering eyes widened in surprise. “Why do you say that?”
    â€œBecause…because you can’t be. I just can’t see it.” Nor could I imagine telling Lara tomorrow: So I was in a bar last night and met this sexy veterinarian… No, those concepts somehow didn’t go together. Veterinarians looked like Wil Delaney.
    â€œIt’s God’s truth,” Kiyo swore, stirring his margarita. “I even take my work home with me. I have five cats and two dogs.”
    â€œOh, dear Lord.”
    â€œHey, I like animals. It goes back to the honesty thing. Animals don’t lie about how they feel. They want to eat, fight, and reproduce. If they like you, they show it. If they don’t, they don’t. They don’t play games. Well, except maybe the cats. They’re tricky sometimes.”
    â€œYeah? What’d you name all those cats?”
    â€œDeath, Famine, Pestilence, War, and Mr. Whiskers.”
    â€œYou named your cats after the riders of the apocal—wait. Mr. Whiskers?”
    â€œWell, there are only four horsemen.”
    We talked for a while after that about whatever else came to mind. Some was serious, some humorous. He told me he was in town from Phoenix, which kind of disappointed me. Not local. We also talked about the people around us, our jobs, life, the universe, etc., etc. All the while I kept wondering how this had happened. Hadn’t I just been noting how I lived outside of society? Yet, here I was, talking to a guy I’d just met like I’d known him for years. I barely recognized the words coming out of my own mouth. I didn’t even recognize my body language: leaning into him as we talked, legs touching. He wore no cologne but smelled like he looked: darkness and sex and heat. And promises. Promises that said, Oh, baby, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted if you’ll just give me the chance….
    At one point, I leaned toward the bar to slide an empty bottle across it. As I did, I suddenly felt Kiyo’s fingers brush my lower back where my shirt had ridden up. I flinched as electricity crackled through me at that slight, casual touch.
    â€œHere’s more honesty,” he said in a low voice. “I like this tattoo. A lot. Violets again?”
    I nodded and sat back in my chair, but he didn’t remove his hand. That tattoo was a chain of violets and leaves that spread across my lower back. A larger cluster of the flowers sat on my tailbone, and then smaller tendrils extended outward on both sides, almost to my hips.
    â€œViolets have sort have become my patron flower,” I explained, “because of my eyes.”
    He leaned forward, and I almost stopped breathing at how close his mouth was to mine. “Wow. You’re right. I’ve never seen eyes that color.”
    â€œI’ve got three more.”
    â€œEyes?”
    â€œTattoos.”
    This got his interest. “Where?”
    â€œThey’re covered by the shirt.” I hesitated. “You know anything about Greek mythology?”
    He nodded. A cultured man. Cue swooning.
    I touched my upper right arm. My sleeve covered the skin. “This one’s a snake wrapped all the way around my arm. It’s for Hecate, the goddess of magic and the crescent moon.” What I didn’t add was that Hecate guarded the crossroads between worlds. It was she who governed transitions to the Otherworld and beyond. This tattoo was my link to her, to facilitate my own journeys and call on her for help when needed.
    I moved to my upper left arm. “This one’s a butterfly