My rule was: Always participate in cultural experiences when invited by fun chicks. “Fabulous. I’ll tell Wil.”

In the club, Wil was on the burnt side of toasted and berating the King of Vampires by the bar.

“Windmills, windmills, fucking, windmills again!”

The king grabbed me, saying, “It’s good to be king!”

I pushed him away and Wil said to him, “Shove off. She’s Ian Ducharme’s.”

The king-for-a-night looked as if he’d reached into a mailbox and found a rattlesnake. “Shit! Sorry!”

“Wil doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I said. “Wil, you’re hammered. Time to call it a night.”

I dragged my escort up to the main club. A porter asked if we’d like a car to take us home. Wil leaned on me heavily as I helped him down the alley.

It had rained while we were inside, and the air smelled of possibility. But no possibilities with Wil in this condition. An inconspicuous gray Vauxhall arrived at the end of the alley just as we did.

The driver got out and opened the back door. “Where to, miss? Oh, you’ve got Mr. Spiggott there. Let’s get him home.”

I folded Wil into the car and got in. I said, “Would you mind dropping me off at my hotel first, or do you think I should go with him and get him inside his place?”

“No worries, miss. It’s my pleasure to see that he’s taken care of,” the man said, making me remember the way that Ian’s thrall, Mrs. K, had spoken. “I’ll deliver him to his houseman safely.”

I wondered if a houseman was the same as a doorman. I gave the driver my hotel address and gazed out the window at the beautiful old buildings. The shining black streets reflected blue, red, and yellow neon lights.

When the car pulled up to the hotel, I thanked the driver and gave a last look at Wil, who was snoring as he slumped against the door. He was sweet to take me out, but I’d have to tell him that I didn’t need babysitting.

I went to my room and stared out the window at the thousands of city lights. Here, across the ocean and a continent, I felt safe from my feelings for one man who had promised to love me forever and another who had offered me only pleasure, never love.

six

Bite Me, Spank Me,
Make Me Bite Your Neck

I awoke to the ringing of my phone. I was still on West Coast time and mumbled a sleepy hello.

“Wil here. I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

A hot shower revived me. I put on a mulberry cotton tunic with a ruffled neckline, black leggings, garnet suede ankle boots, and a clatter of black Bakelite bracelets. I wore my hair loose and finished my makeup with dramatic ruby lipstick.