He had a tan that ended at the neckline and just below the shoulders; the rest of him was milk white. He looked up at her from the gap between the couch and the coffee table with a pleading in his eyes, as if he were looking up from a coffin in which he was about to be buried alive.

“Sorry,” he said.

He wasn’t looking her in the eye, and Val suddenly realized that he was talking to her exposed breasts. She pulled her blouse closed, and a battery of insults rose in her mind, ready to be fired, but all of them were mean-spirited and would serve to do nothing but make them both feel ashamed. He was who he was, and he was honest and real, and she knew that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. So she cried. Thinking, Great, crying is what got me into this in the first place.

She plopped down on the couch with her face in her hands. Gabe moved to her side and put his arm around her. “I’m really sorry. I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

“You’re fine. It’s just too much.”

“I should go.” He started to stand.

She caught his arm in a death grip. “You go and I’ll hunt you down and kill you like a rabid dog.”

“I’ll stay.”

“No go,” she said. “I understand.”

“Okay, I’ll go.”

“Don’t you dare.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him hard, pulling him back down onto the couch, and within seconds they were all over each other again.

That’s it, she thought, no more crying. It’s the crying that does it. This guy is aroused by my pain.

But soon they lay in a panting sweaty pile on the floor and the idea of crying was light-years away.

And this time Gabe said, “That was wonderful.”

Val noticed a wineglass overturned by her head, a cabernet stain bleeding over the carpet. “Is it salt or club soda?”

Gabe pulled away far enough to look into her eyes and saw that she was looking at the stained carpet. “Salt and cold water, I think. Or is that blood?” A drop of sweat dripped off his forehead onto her lips.

She looked at him. “You weren’t thinking about that creature that doesn’t exist, were you?”

“Just you.”

She smiled. “Really?”

“And a weed-whacker, for some reason.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Uh, yes, I’m kidding. I was only thinking of you.”

“So you don’t think I’m a horrible person for what I’ve done?”

“You were trying to do what you thought was right. How could that be horrible?”

“I feel horrible.”

“It’s been a long time. I’m out of practice.”

“No, not about this. About my patients. You really think something could be preying on them?”

“It’s just a theory. There may not even be a creature.”

“But what if there is? Shouldn’t we call the National Guard or something?”

“I was thinking of calling Theo.”

“Theo isn’t even a real cop.”

“He deserves to know.”

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, staring at the spreading stain on the carpet, feeling the sweat run down their ribs, and listening to the beat of each other’s hearts.

“Gabe?” Val whispered.

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should go to couples’ counseling.”

“Should we get dressed first?”

“You were serious about the weed-whacker, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know where that image came from.”

“There’s supposed to be a good couples’ guy in San Junipero, unless you’d rather go to a woman counselor.”

“I thought we were going to call the National Guard.”

“Only if it comes to that,” Val said. Thinking, When we tell the shrink about this, I’m leaving out the part about the wine spilling.

Is there anything more irritating than people who have just been laid? Especially when you have not. Not for a long time.

Oh, it was obvious as soon as they came through Molly’s front door, waking Theo for the second time that night: Gabe’s grin looking like the oversized grill on an old Chrysler, Val Riordan wearing jeans and almost no makeup; the both of them giddy and giggling and blushing like children. Theo wanted to puke. He was happy for them, but he wanted to puke.

“What?” Theo said.

Gabe was obviously amped and trying not to show it. He put his hands in his pockets to keep from waving them around. “I”—he looked at Val and smiled—“we think that this creature, if it exists, may be attracted to prey with low serum serotonin levels.”

Gabe bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for his statement to sink in. Theo sat there, staring at him, with no discernible change in expres-sion from the weariness he’d worn since they came through the door. He guessed that he was supposed to say something now.

“Molly was here,” Theo said. “The creature exists. It ate Mikey Plotznik, and Joseph Leander, and who knows who else? She said it’s a dragon.”

Gabe’s grin dropped. “That’s great. I mean, that’s horrible, but it’s great from a scientific point of view. I have another theory about this species. I think it has some specialized mechanism to affect its prey. Have you been horny lately?”

“There’s no need to be arrogant, Gabe. I’m glad you two had a good time, but there’s no need to rub it in.”

“No no, you don’t get it.” Gabe went on to explain about Val Riordan’s decision to take her patients off antidepressants and how the lowering of serotonin levels could lead to increased libido. “So Pine Cove has been full of horny people.”

“Right,” Theo said. “And I still can’t get a date.”

Val Riordan laughed and Theo glared at her. Gabe said, “The rats I found alive near this trailer, where we think the creature might have been, were mating when I found them. There are some species of carnivorous plants that give off a sex pheromone that attracts their prey. In some species, the behavior of the male—a display, a dance, a scent—will stimulate the ovaries in the female of the species without any physical contact. I think that’s what’s happened to us.”

“Our ovaries are being stimulated?” Theo rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I gotta be honest with you, Gabe. I’m not feeling it.”

Val turned to Gabe. “That’s not very romantic.”

“It’s incredibly exciting. This may be the most elegant predator that the world has ever seen.”

Theo shook his head. “I have no home, no job, no car, there’s probably a warrant out for my arrest, and you want me to be excited over the fact that we have a monster in town that makes you horny so he can eat you? Sorry, Gabe, I’m missing the positive side of this.”

Val chimed in, “It may be the reason that you’ve been able to quit smoking pot so easily.”

“Pardon me? Easily?” Theo wanted to jump off the couch and bitch-slap them both.

“Were you ever able to go this long before?”

“She could be right, Theo,” Gabe said. “If this thing affects serotonin, it could affect other neurotransmitters.”

“Oh good,” Theo said. “Let’s open a detox clinic. We’ll feed half of the patients to the monster and the other half will recover. I can’t wait.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” Gabe said. “We’re just trying to help.”

“Help? Help with what? Bar fight? I can handle it. Skateboard theft? I’m on it. But my law enforcement experience hasn’t prepared me for dealing with this.”

“That’s true, Gabe,” Val said. “Theo’s little more than a rent-a-cop. Maybe we should call the sheriff or the FBI or the National Guard.”

“And tell them what?” Theo asked. Rent-a-cop? I’m not even that now, he thought.

“He has a point.” Gabe said. “We haven’t seen anything.”

“That old Blues singer has,” Val said.

Theo nodded. “We need to find him. Maybe he’ll…”

“He’s living with Estelle Boyet,” Val said. “I have her address in my office.”