"What was that about?" asked Seth, once we were out of earshot.

"That asshole was trying to pick me up again. Right after turning away Casey. God, I hate him. He was trying the usual stuff too. Trying to push more drinks on me. Telling me how hot I was."

Seth leaned his face toward mine. "You are hot."

"Stop that. You're giving me funny ideas."

He continued holding me close. I really needed to wait two days before seeing him after a fix. "Ever wonder how far I could kiss you on the lips?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I can somewhat substantially kiss your cheek and neck, right? Your lips though…well, those have to be quick, brushing kind of kisses. Too much intensity and tongue with your mouth is right out. So, I figure there must be a middle ground."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Just thinking, that's all."

The rapture from my glow was reflected in his face. Forgetting about anyone we knew seeing us, I let him lean his mouth toward my own. Ever so gently, his lips touched mine. Not a family-type slip of a kiss, nor a saliva-exchanging deep kiss either. It was like a caress. His lips slowly stroked my lips, his tongue just barely tracing the contours of my mouth. Electricity ran from my head to my toes and tried to run back up again, but it got delayed between my legs. Seth stepped away.

"Anything bad happen?"

"No," I breathed. "But I think we need to conduct several repeat experiments, just to make sure."

Suddenly, from across the room, we heard whoops and cheers, followed by a terrific crashing sound and gasps of alarm. Without conscious communication, Seth and I moved as one to see what had happened.

Doug lay in a heap on the floor in front of the stage, laughing hysterically. "What's going on?" I asked Corey.

His eyes were heavily dilated, and I remembered Alec saying the bass player had acid. "It's a new Olympic sport. Stage-table High Jumps."

Following his gaze, I saw a table set up on the stage. About fifteen feet away, on the floor by Doug, was an overturned table. I looked back and forth. "Did he try to jump from that table to that one?"

Corey cackled. "Sure did. Shit. He almost made it. Caught the edge on his way down."

"He could have broken his leg," muttered Seth in disgust. "Or worse."

Doug seemed to be okay. Some solicitous women in tight shirts were helping him stand. He caught my eye and laughed harder.

"Don't look so panicked, Kincaid. I'm fine…but if you want to make sure, you can come kiss me too and make it all better."

He winked at Seth, and others laughed with him, without knowing why. I was soon forgotten as more adoring people swarmed in. Seth and I retreated.

"What was he thinking?" I fretted. "I mean, he's always doing crazy acrobatic stuff on stage, but he had to have known he couldn't make that."

"If he's not thinking straight, there's no telling what he believes. Drugs’ll do that. Give you a sense of invincibility."

I reminded myself to look up those drug names Cody had suggested. I didn't know if it'd do any good, but it'd at least make me think I was doing something.

"Hey," I exclaimed, pulling Seth to an abrupt stop. "It's him again."

"Who?"

"That guy talking to Alec. The weird gothic, male-model-type guy."

Seth followed my gesture. Way on the other side of the place, near the bar, Alec and the man I'd seen at the earlier concert were having a heated argument. The GQ-poet guy looked stern and cold tonight, dampening his otherwise suave and polished looks. Alec had a pleading look. The drummer gesticulated frantically, his face desperate and frightened. The other man shook his head sternly, face unyielding. He waved a hand toward the crowd and then said something to Alec. Alec's face paled, and he once more turned into a pitiful supplicant. The other man shook his head yet again, then strode off.

He didn't approach us exactly, but he had to move in our direction to reach the exit. He was still a good fifty feet away and separated by walls of people when an odd, prickly feeling touched my skin. It was strange and discordant, yet sleek at the same time. It was almost like what I'd felt around Doug and the band, except that had been unidentifiable. This was clearly a person's signature. It was linked to that man, pulsing with sentience. I choked out a strangled sound and quickly stepped back out of range. Pulling Seth with me, I threw my arms around him and kissed his neck.

As I did, I watched out of the corner of my eye as the strange man froze and jerked his head around, looking out over the crowd. He had felt me too. His eyes passed over us several times, but we drew no especial focus. We were just another couple getting hot and heavy. I tensed, waiting for him to come closer and try to sense me again. Without knowing why, I didn't want him to find me. He scanned a bit longer before giving up and continuing his retreat.

When he had left, I relaxed and leaned into Seth.

"What…?"

"That man that was talking to Alec," I said, still in shock. "He's an immortal."

Seth's eyebrows rose. "Really? What kind? Angel? Demon?"

"None of the above. He's not one of mine."

"What do you mean not one of yours?"

"Not all immortals are part of the heaven and hell system. There are a lot of other creatures walking the world: nymphs, orisha, oni…"

"You do realize you've just thrust me into a theological quandary likely to keep me awake at night for years," he joked. When I didn't answer, he turned serious. "Okay. So what kind was he?"

I shook my head. "That's the thing. I don't know. I don't know what he was exactly."

CHAPTER 10

Jerome didn't seem very happy to hear from me the next morning.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Georgie?" he growled into the phone.

"Why are you whining? You don't even need to sleep."

"Make this fast."

I told him about my experience at the concert and my inability to ID the mystery immortal. "He wasn't one of us. Er, I mean, you know…not part of our…pantheon," I finished lamely.

"'Pantheon?' I've never heard it put quite like that—outside of an introductory mythology class, of course."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So isn't that weird? I've met hundreds of different immortals and never felt one like this. He didn't feel…normal. I mean, he did feel like an immortal, but it was just weird."

"Well, hard as it is to believe, there are still a lot of things out there you haven't experienced—despite your vast age. "

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm an infant, all right? But doesn't this worry you at all?"

He yawned. "Not in the least. Something angelic ordemonic would, but some random demigod or satyr? Hardly. They're not part of the game. Well, they're all part of the Game. What I mean is, they're not part of our game. They don't have to get permission to be here. As long as they don't interfere with our business, I don't really care. They do their own thing. We'll just catalog them and move on."

"Catalog? You've got a record then?"

"Well, I don't, of course. That's one of Grace and Mei's things."

No surprise there. Jerome wasn't really big on…well, work. Grace and Mei were subordinate demonesses who did a lot of the dirty jobs he didn't want to. I hardly ever saw them.

"I'll have to page them," I murmured, mind spinning.

"You know, I suppose it goes without saying that there are a hundred other more useful projects you could be channeling your energy into. Like, say, helping your incubus friend. From what I hear, he's stuck high and dry out in the suburbs. Emphasis on the high."

"Hey," I said, defensive of Bastien's honor, "he's just taking his time. You can't rush quality work. Besides, he learned everything he knows from me. "