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fangs, no venom. Even better.
    “Huh? I mean, yeah. You’re right. Can I get you another . . . What flavor’s that, lime? Sure. And one of mine, thanks.” I paid for the drinks, and Thunderboy didn’t stop me. Good sign or bad? I cataloged his perfect suit, his spotless nails, the golden rings glittering on his slender fingers as he rolled them over something rusty and round.
    Indigo’s loot? Curiosity heated my interest to sizzling. “What’s that you got there?”
    “A mirror.” He slipped his old straw into the new drink.
    “Doesn’t look l—Whoa. What happened to your hand, dude?”
    “What?”
    “Your hand. It’s like, burnt or something.”
    “Oh.” He surveyed the mangled skin like he’d forgotten it, even though the weeping welt must’ve hurt like a bastard. He flexed his reddened fingers, and the burn paled and dried, shrinking to nothing. Gone. Just smooth white skin, flushed with blood. “Nothing, I think.”
    Fluid stretched my wing membranes tight. Freaky. But sexy. My gaze dragged to the lickable glimpse of throat at his loosened collar. Another whiff of that amazing stormy scent dazzled me. I crossed one ankle over the other, squeezing my burning thighs together. Okay, that’s it, I’m yours. I don’t know what you are, and I really don’t care. I think I’ll climb on your lap and beg now, if you don’t mind.
    He finished his drink with a slurp and spun on his stool to face me, black eyes drunk on something that may or may not have been me. “You smell nice. Come here.”
    “Me?” The word slipped out before I could stop it, because my pulse squeezed my throat and popped it out. I darted a glance behind me, to make sure he wasn’t talking to Azure over my shoulder or something. Was this my lucky night or what? Maybe he was sparkly, or drunk. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed how clumsy and stupid and tongue-tied I was. There had to be a catch.
    “You.” He blinked, and the air between us shuddered, black with crawling hellcraft.
    My will burned away like a mirage, and reckless desire flooded me. I clunked my empty glass back on the bar. He grasped my wrist with cold fingers and yanked me onto his lap.
    I fluttered upward, settling myself, and his sudden explosive heat burst up through me like sunburn. Okay. Impressive. He was hard for something, all right. Might as well pretend it’s me.
    I pressed down, enjoying the feel of him. My tiny skirt bunched tight at the tops of my thighs, and I tried to remember what kind of underwear I had on. Hopefully something sexy that wouldn’t get in the way. I bent closer to sniff him, flickering my wings lightly, and snowy ash swirled in my downdraft. God, his hair smelled fantastic, like burnt foliage after rain.
    He slid shameless hands up my back to grasp the sensitive joints where my wings met my shoulders. Dirty boy. I gasped, giggling, and he pulled me down to him, his lips a burning inch from mine. His easy strength spiked shivering pleasure up my spine.
    His delicious charcoal breath slid into my mouth. “You like this?”
    “Uh-huh.” I liked it, all right. Desire spread desperate fingers inside me, and I flooded. Swelling throbbed in my wings, hot moisture flushed under my skin, hot water dripped from my hair to slide over my shoulders. My sex oozed heat, and now I was really making a mess on his lap.
    Sudden fear clutched my guts with razor claws. I wanted us alone, sweaty, naked, and I knew nothing about him, not even his name. Fairy girls get hurt like this. They get raped and slashed and end up in the gutter bleeding. Good one, Ice. This is what happens when you forget your fear. “Umm . . . Is this where we exchange names?”
    “If you think it’s important.” He flicked his tongue over my bottom lip, searing.
    Thirst ravaged my throat. I shivered, and slid my arms around his neck, and his hair grew a couple of inches, flooding sky blue at the ends. Kinky. “I’m Ice.”
    “Kane.” He kissed me, hard and black and