Against the odds, Kisten had turned losing their MPL into an asset; Piscary’s was the only reputable place in Cincy where a vampire could relax without having to live up to anyone else’s ideas of reserved behavior and vampiric standards. Even shadows weren’t allowed. I was the only nonvamp let past the door—seeing as I had downed Piscary, then let the bastard live—and I was honored they let me see them as they wanted to be. The living ones partied with frightening abandon, trying to forget that they were destined to lose their souls, and the undead tried to remember what it was like to have one, almost seeming to find it while surrounded by such an outpouring of energy. Anyone coming in looking for a quick blood fix was escorted out. Blood didn’t have a place in the fantasy they sought.

My gaze ran over the pictures lining the walls just under the ceiling, and I started when I found the blurry shot of me, Nick, and Ivy on her bike. It was fuzzy, but you could still tell there were a rat and a mink standing on the gas tank. Warming, I lifted my iced tea to sprinkle some salt on my napkin.

“Is that a spell?” David asked, eyes going to the kitchen doors when someone laughed.

I shook my head. “It’s so the paper doesn’t stick to the bottom of the glass and make me look like more of a dork than I already am.”

The Were pulled his head up from his melancholy hunch. “Rachel, you’re wearing leather and sitting at a vamp bar. You could have a pink slushy with an umbrella in your hand and still impress the hell out of most people.”

My exhalation was long and slow. “Yeah, but alphas aren’t most people.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re the alpha female for my pack, remember?” His gaze went behind me. “Afternoon, Kisten,” he said, and I turned, smiling when I recognized the scent of incense and leather.

“Thanks, Mr. Peabody,” the vampire said sourly, his attempt to startle me clearly ruined.

“Hi, Kist,” I said, curving an arm about his waist and drawing him closer. He was wearing dark pants and a red silk shirt—his usual casual clothes. “Thanks for letting me borrow your club,” I added, tugging at him suggestively. Damn, I could really have used some alone time with him this Friday. The memory of Ivy’s kiss intruded, then vanished.

His eyes dilated, and my pulse increased despite my efforts. A smile hovered over his features, and his look became more intent. “You can borrow a back room anytime,” he said, his hand finding my waist with a comfortable familiarity before he leaned in for a quick kiss hello.