An hour or so later my shirt hung lank with sweat, my hair mussed from more hands than I wanted to think about, and I had nothing but melted ice in my glass. Addie offered to refill it on the house, but I dropped a five on her tray and asked her for some more ice instead.

I could almost hear the sound of the AC over the pounding music, but it was still hot in the room. Shifters ran hotter than humans, and if the room had been packed with nothing but humans it would have been hot. As it was, everyone in sight sweat worse than me. Of course, quite a few of the college guys were jumping and waving at the dancers to get their attention. The bikers wore too much leather for the heat. Last but not least, both groups guzzled beer like it was water.

I took another sip of my melted ice. The beer hadn’t been much stronger, now that I thought about it. If the guys were drunk, they had something much harder than beer. Then again, they’d been drinking steadily for almost two hours. The noise of the crowd was nearly as loud as the music.

The noise was so loud, so constant, that it became almost as meaningless as silence would have been. Between the heat, the noise, and the miasma of scents, I got a little drowsy. Candy and Pixie had both been offstage a while, I figured one of them would be up next. Candy had already done schoolgirl, teacher, and 'witch', that last achieved by losing the ruler and adding a broomstick. Pixie took longer stretches off stage, so she'd only done cheerleader and lacrosse player.

I was still wondering which of them was next, what outfit they'd do, and what cheap prop they'd use, when all the lights in the club went out at once. At the same instant, the music cut off. The sudden silence was deafening.

Before anyone could panic, the emcee spoke over the sound system, "Gentlemen and Ladies, we have someone special with us tonight. You heard the ads on the radio, you saw the sign outside, you watched her videos on the internet. She's back at Moondancers for three nights this week. For those of you living under a rock, I'm proud to introduce the one, the only, Asoofit!"

I wasn't even tempted to giggle. A palpable wave of anticipation rolled through the darkened room. A trio of spotlights speared down to highlight the center of the extended stage, right between the poles. Candy’s unamplified voice echoed through the empty room with a horrible fake New York accent.

“Where did they want this thing again?”

Pixie’s accent was a bit better, her acting just as overdone.

“Right between the poles, about… here.”

Candy and Pixie, dressed in gray coveralls, carried a large wooden box onto the stage. It was just over six feet tall and maybe three feet on a side. They went through a little skit, each of them trying to pry the top off, meanwhile keeping the other from doing so. Eventually Candy saw what Pixie was doing and leapt on her. I realized then that the whole thing was scripted; Candy was careful to never touch the box in her leap.

The two wrestled near the center stage pole, right in the middle of the crowd, and the students and bachelor party both cheered as pieces of coverall began flying out into the crowd. The calls got louder when it became apparent neither girl was wearing anything under her coverall. When each girl was down to raggedy shorts, the emcee's voice sounded over the speakers.

"Okay, girls, time to get back to work. Sorry about the delay, gentlemen."

The girls stopped and moved back to the crate, this time prying the top off with smooth efficiency. When it came free, the sides fell away cleanly. Without any sign to one another, they each caught two of the sides and carefully lifted them away from the contents of the box.

They did something with them, I'm sure. I just have no idea what. They might have eaten them right there on stage and I wouldn't have noticed. The contents of the box were on display. A sandstone statue of a woman, face and one hand raised heavenward, stood revealed. Her face was gorgeous. Her hair made me think that the statue was a painted woman, the details of it were so lifelike. Her body had the smooth muscled grace of a professional athlete. Her breasts were what ultimately convinced me I was looking at a statue. Breasts that size would sag, or at least shift slightly when the woman breathed. Instead, they stood proudly, nipples pointed at the sky from the slight arch in the woman's back.

A song began playing. I recognized it from my last visit to a dance club; a remix of Ravel's Bolero. It started out nearly identical to the classical piece, but where Ravel's original would cycle back to the start of the notes, picking up pace and volume, the remix added eight oh eight bass and a techno soundtrack.

With the first beat of the bass, the statue's hand exploded, and a fine mist of sand filled the air. When it cleared, a human hand extended from the statue's upthrust arm. The statue's hand flexed through what club dancers and hip hoppers called 'hand tech', a series of hand-only poses. There were only so many poses a dancer could do with one hand, but somehow Asoofit managed to force her hand through a series that oozed languor and invitation.

The music shifted back to the unadorned Ravel, and her hand went utterly still. My gaze flickered to her chest; she still wasn't moving enough to shift the sand on her breasts. I was impressed despite her silly name. Holding that pose must have been tough, doing it without breathing enough to notice must be torture.

The music cycled again; this time when the bass thundered through the room, the explosion of sand wasn't surprising. When the dust cleared, Asoofit had one arm free. Her arm ran across her body, never touching enough to disturb the sand, but seeming to caress every curve. I found myself staring at the intersection of flesh and stone, where her flesh and blood arm broke free of the thin coat of sand on her shoulders. Her arm moved, but her shoulder didn't, not even a twitch as her arm danced.

I'm not a very good dancer. I don't have time to keep myself in the kind of shape a dancer needs to be in. I have the desire, I've studied the moves, but I'm a klutz. I knew what kind of strength and training it took to keep her body so stiff while one of her arms writhed, and it took my breath away. The thought of the discipline, the control it implied aroused me far more than the sight of a sandstone tit.

The music cycled again. This time when the bass rumbled and the sand cleared, one leg was free. I watched as she stood there, one leg and one arm dancing, the rest of her as motionless as the statue she pretended to be. Asoofit beckoned the whole audience with her limbs, drawing their gazes to her breasts, the cleft of her thighs, the slight wistful smile on her lips.

I wanted to admire how much control she had. I wanted to be sympathetic to how hot it must be under the sand, warmed by the stage lights. I belabored myself to watch her hips, half undulating and half motionless.

Mostly I was too turned on to think.

The music cycled again, and a sirocco blasted through the club. I was too enthralled to blink properly, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Asoofit was the center of the storm. Now with only one leg pinned by the sandstone, she whirled about that leg, a dust devil given female form. My eyes watered with dust and heat, but I never closed them. My gazed locked onto her as she moved with the music, whipping to a climax along with the Ravel.

The final cycle came to a climax, and Asoofit whipped her body into an inversion, her imprisoned leg pointed toward the ceiling. Her thigh flexed, and the sandstone cast around her leg rained down around her, dust drifting in the sudden lack of wind. She held that pose, not even breathing, until a wave of applause and screaming washed across the stage. I was shouting along with the rest of them, clapping so hard my hands hurt. The moment after the applause crested, a new song sounded over the speakers. I didn't recognize it, but it was heavy on bass. I was vaguely disappointed when I realized it was another typical stripper song.

I couldn't stay disappointed for long. With all her limbs free, Asoofit's dancing went from an impressive example of muscle control to a breathtaking display of physical strength and acrobatic skill. I lost track of how many inversions she pulled, how often she danced on her hands, or her knees, or up on pointe. She even incorporated the pole into her gyrations. Where the other girls climbed it, she spun up and down the pole. Every motion she made was smooth, like skating on oil.

Once every verse of the song, she froze in an unlikely position. First, she stopped while inverted on one hand, next in mid spin with only one leg clutching the pole, the final time with her body extended horizontally, both hands gripping the pole as she spun.

Something nibbled at my subconscious, making my stomach clench, reminding me that if Sue didn't arrive, I was going to be someone's midnight snack. If I was extremely lucky, I might get away with having my pockets emptied and wind up with a night full of fun stories I'd never tell. In the dark, with the lighting obscured by still drifting dust, my eyes still watering, I didn't catch the anomaly at first. It drifted slowly to the front of my consciousness, a mountain gradually visible through the fogbank outside the aircraft windshield.

It was the final pose that did it. She froze, upside down, one hand and one foot on the pole. My gaze flashed from one end of the stage to the other. The poles were each still in their places, gleaming dimly from the shadows. I stared at Asoofit's hand, clutching at nothing. Adrenaline shot through me, the taste of copper bit my mouth as I looked at her foot, braced against absolutely nothing. I was still standing from when I applauded her first set, and when she spun herself to smile at me, my knees betrayed me. I scrabbled for my glass, sucking down as much water as I could, almost gagging on an ice cube in my rush.

The song ended, and Asoofit leapt from the pole that wasn't there. Bills still fluttered to the stage, where Candy and Pixie surreptitiously gathered them, their tattered coveralls replaced by simple thongs. A sudden change of expression on Asoofit's face dragged my gaze back to her. She walked toward me, a severe frown on her strong-featured face. I realized my initial estimate of her looks might be off; her face was really too thin to be a traditional beauty.

My libido reached up and threatened to club my rational side to death with my own arm if it didn't shut the hell up.

She swayed toward me, and catcalls rang out from the rest of the bar. The least offensive was the simple "Ain't gonna work, he's gay!" from one of the bikers. Candy intercepted him, and I lost him after that; Asoofit filled my field of vision.

I stared at her; my gaze entirely unsubtle. She stood, not posing, but not hiding, waiting for me to drink my fill of her. When I blinked, she leaned down. The smell of her rolled over me, and all thought about anything but sex went away. I assumed she was going to put her face against my ear like so many other women had. Instead, when I leaned away to let her, one hand shot out and turned my face toward her. Our lips met, the searing heat of her forcing my lips open in a gasp. Her tongue darted in, coffee and honey with the faintest sweet notes of cream. My eyes slipped closed, and I lost myself to her mouth.

She pulled away, and some quiet, self-loathing part of me started preparing an apology to Al. I wanted to wait for his sister, but I have my limits. Then Asoofit smiled Al's smile at me, and it hit me like a brick to the genitals.

"Sue?"

Her voice was just a touch nasal, with touches of a Middle Eastern accent, but I didn't care. In the sudden pounding music, the cut and lilt made her easier to hear. "And nothing else. I've got to ask. Why didn't you take a trip back with Candy?"

"I was waiting for you."

She rolled her eyes, so close to mine. The light made it hard to tell, but they looked to be a deep milk chocolate brown. "I meant the second time."

"I was still waiting."

She curled down into my lap, never moving her face further from mine. "You're too much. You want to watch for a while, or do you want to get out of here?"

My decision-making faculties were shot. My only goal at this point was to get somewhere private with Sue and see if she was as willing as she seemed. I twitched, and her smile widened, showing off flat, even teeth that made me think of Al. Before I could answer her question, she spoke again. "Or did you want to take me right here?" Her smile turned wicked, and she glanced at the crowd, who were ignoring the next dancer up to watch her on my lap. "I hope you aren't shy."

I have my share of non-mainstream sexual preferences, but exhibitionism isn't one of them. I leaned over to her ear, taking in the smell of her, musky, spicy, with the faintest hint of motor oil. I grinned at that last; she must borrow Al's truck or something.

"Let's get out of here."

She didn't need any further prompting. She flowed off me as easily as she'd sat down, still with no hesitation about her state of undress. She held out a hand to me. When I put my palm in hers, she pulled me up to her. I fought down a grimace; I should have guessed she was a Shifter. For a moment the terror lodged in my gut came to the fore, and I thought about running. Fortunately, my training agreed with my libido. Running from carnivores was contraindicated. I leaned into her, and she met me halfway.

Our lips came apart again to more catcalls, and her smile faded into a crooked grin.

"We'd better get going. Strippers don't kiss customers, and someone's likely to figure that out."

"Won't you get in trouble for leaving early?"

"My agent can handle it. Let's get the hell out of here."

With that she turned and led me toward the door to the VIP room. We passed through the door and stepped right past the girl taking entry fees. A wall of ivory muscle in a cheap black suit stepped in front of us. The bouncer focused on me, his voice a surprisingly pleasant baritone.

“Excuse me, sir. You’ll need to put down a deposit for the lady’s snacks if you’re coming into the VIP room.”

Before I could think of a reply, Sue got in his face, completely oblivious to how much bigger he was. “Sorry, Gary. He’s a friend of mine, I’m taking him out the back.” She moved to walk past the bouncer, towing me along behind her. His arm shot out, barring me from proceeding. Sue froze, tension in every line of her body. Her voice was flat, all emotion leached from it.

“Gary, if you don’t move your arm, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll give me a pedi when you chew. I’m going home now.”

“The boss isn’t going to like that.”

With that, Sue turned, her smile amped back up to brighten the room. “Gary, I can fill a place on a fucking Tuesday night and have the guys throwing rent money on the stage. If I want to flake once in a while, I’ll flake once in a while. By the way, until the word spreads that I'm not back here, those bachelor party guys and Greeks are going to pay extra to get in the VIP room just to see what I’m doing to Zed here. Make sure Candy and Pixie know, ok?”

The bouncer looked me over with obvious distaste and confusion but pulled his arm halfway out of the way. “I’ll do that. You gonna tell the boss about this?”

“Have I ever left you hanging, Gary?”

A smile worked its way past Gary’s weightlifter grimace. “Nah. I just need to cover my ass. You know that. Big guys in suits are a dime a dozen.”

She flashed him her sunrise grin, and his arm pulled the rest of the way back. We turned away from the writhing darkness of the VIP room and headed through a concealed doorway. A thick fire door blocked our way; Sue pulled me through and then pulled the door shut behind us, leaving me blinking in sudden blackness. A moment later, I blinked from the glare of a bare fluorescent bulb mounted in the ceiling. Another door, twin to the first, led out of the room. Sue bumped it with her hip, and it swung open to reveal a cramped dressing room, girls in various stages of undress glancing up to see who was coming in.

The glances became stares when they noticed me. One of the girls, someone I hadn’t seen tonight, pulled a towel over herself, eyes going wide. Her voice was a throaty purr, but there was no mistaking the fear and annoyance in it. “Who the hell is that?”

I could hear Sue’s impatience in her voice. “He’s a friend of mine, Sara. Don’t get all excited. He’s into men.”

Sara’s eyes dropped to my trousers, and she shot Sue a look of profound disbelief. “He sure looks like he’s into us.”

Sue laughed and started pulling me through the room. “Yeah, I just pulled him past Gary. Speaking of which, have you bagged him yet?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“You know the rules, Sue. No fraternizing with the bartenders or bouncers.”

“Yeah, and I know how often you get docked for making the boss man fire a bouncer.” Sue and I were already at the far end of the dressing room. She turned, still nude, and addressed the room at large. “For the next thirty or so, the VIP room is gonna pull in more cash; you might want to get out there.”

About half of the girls, Sara included, turned immediately to focus on their primping. The rest watched Sue drag me out of the dressing room into a narrow hallway. Cinder blocks painted industrial gray formed the walls, bare fluorescent tubes dangled from the ceiling. We bypassed a doorway that led into a utilitarian kitchen. A small table stood just inside the entryway. Two naked women, dancers I'd seen earlier, sat there wolfing down burritos. They glanced up at me. One, a honey skinned brunette, half turned away, sliding her plate to interpose her body between it and me. The other, auburn haired with a peaches and cream complexion, got a speculative look until Sue towed me a little further.

"Back it down, Clara. He's mine. Tonight at least."

The other woman raised one hand, closing her eyes and nodding to acknowledge Sue's claim. She never spoke, never stopped eating. Sue towed me to the end of the hall. One door had a big 'Exit' sign over it; the other was a simple interior door. Sue swung it open, revealing a small walk-in closet. She nodded to the exit.

"I'd wait inside if I were you. The girls can get a little grabby, but they're mostly smart enough to keep a meal ticket in one piece. The bikers… Not so much."

The rational part of my brain was terrified beyond the capacity for thought. Fortunately, my libido had taken over and was running my mouth as well. "I think I'll wait right here for you."

She leaned in again, this time dodging my mouth and planting a kiss on my neck. "Fantastic," she breathed into my ear.

She stepped into the closet and closed the door behind her. I stood there listening to the sounds of the two women, two Shifters, eating. I'd seen Shifters feeding at the Agency. Through bulletproof glass reinforced with steel mesh. The sounds in the other room were almost normal, and I started to relax. Then I heard a plate shift against the cheap table, followed by a rumble like a motorcycle. The rumble was answered by a growl, louder than the rumble but not as deep.

I reached for the bar on the door when the rumble exploded into the chainsaw shriek of a great cat. The scream cut off, interrupted by a crashing metallic clang. A feline sound of pain underlay the creaky but masculine words coming out of the kitchen door.

"No fighting. We got plenty. Here."

More eating sounds followed the sound of a plate hitting the table. The strange, weathered voice sounded once more. "One more plate each, then back out. Crowd's hot. No tabs tonight."

I shuddered at the idea of hungry Shifters returning to the floor. Then again, if they weren't doing acrobatics on the stage, they wouldn’t be burning the calories that would make them go feral. Sue chose that moment to come out of the closet. She wore a simple beige trench coat, long enough to cover her feet. Despite the heat in the club, she’d tied it shut, the belt emphasizing how slim she was. She stood, hands in her coat pockets, posing for me.

"So, what do you think?"

For the first time, I had a moment to really look at her in something like normal lighting. My first impression on stage had been close to right. Her hair was sandy blonde, her skin the rich color of old amber. Her face… she was an incredibly handsome woman. She only missed being beautiful by how sharply her features stood out. Like most of the dancers I'd seen in the back room, she was far too slim for my taste. She stood there in front of me, posing, and I came to a stunning realization. Before, wearing nothing on a stage, she'd been nude. Now, completely covered and posing for me and me alone, she was naked. I found that both endearing and powerfully erotic. I reached for her, slid my hand behind her neck, and tugged her toward me.

She came to me without resisting, lips parted, eyes sliding shut. The only sound was a dull thumping through the walls. The smell was a combination of Sue's musty, musky scent and fatty frying ground beef from the kitchen. Her lips were soft, and I tasted the morning after a rainstorm on her tongue. Her hands slid around me, teasing my shirt out of my pants, fingertips tracing the curve of my shoulder blades.

She pulled back, a wicked grin on her face. "I didn't think you were the sort to do me right here in the hallway, but if you're up for it…"

She left the statement hanging there, the question unspoken, the offer implicit. I took a deep breath and the scent of her washed through me again. She leaned into me, and I felt her breasts soft against my chest, her belly pressing my erection. I was certain she could feel it even through layers of clothing. Some part of me, deeper than my fears, stronger than my libido, the source of my sucker nature, raised its head and grabbed my mouth.

Before I could think about it, I turned down her offer, "I was thinking we could get some food."

"Afraid I'm going to eat you up?"

"Not in any kind of bad way."

"Ok. Let's get out of here then. I'm starving." She suited deeds to words and bumped the push bar on the door with her hip, popping it open and guiding me out. "Where are you parked?"

"Out front. That odd-shaped space near the sign?"

She brightened, half turning toward me. Before either of us could speak, her smile melted into a gaping look of mild horror, and she planted her face in the palm of the hand that wasn't towing me. "Oh, right. I forgot. You drive a Leaf. For a second I thought you rode a motorcycle here. I'm going to… I'm going to dinner with a guy who can park his car in a motorcycle parking space."

I looked at her, vaguely angry at the insult, but not yet sure I could make an issue out of it without spoiling dinner. She was still speaking; apparently, she was as voluble as Al wasn't.

"How the hell am I supposed to have sex with you in a goddamned Leaf?"

The taste of old asphalt and gasoline filled my mouth as it hung open. The breeze was warm against my tongue, scented faintly with the smell of her. I said the first thing that came to mind, wincing the moment after I said it.

"Al never told me you're a Mage."

She stopped with a strange, quizzical look on her face. "What made you think that?"

"The wind in the club. The sudden silence. The pole… the one that wasn't there."

She grinned, and in that moment, I realized how much she resembled Al. Based on what he'd told me, she shouldn't, but they had the same crooked grin.

"The emcee is a vampire, and he's really good at influencing mortals with his voice."

"The wind?"

Her grin was infectious, I found myself smiling back even when she was teasing me. "In America there are these wonderful inventions called electric fans."

"The pole."

With that she half turned away, her animation dulled. "Look, Zed. I… This is hard for me. I promise you; I'm never going to lie to you. I know how much that means to you. I won't lie to you, but… There are things I've never told anyone. There are other things that I might just forget to tell you."

"Forget, or 'forget'?"

Her halfhearted glare wilted before she finished her sentence.

"Forget. Really. Do you think about your bank account all the time?"

"Only in semesters when I'm not teaching."

"Yeah, but you don't think about your PIN a lot, do you?"

"No, not really."

"So would you think to tell me about it?"

"No."

"Even if you promised to never lie to me, and you suspected I might want to know it?"

I stopped, staring at her. I expected this kind of talk from Al. He was rough around the edges, but I'd come to respect him as a scholar. Standing here talking to a woman who had been dancing naked in a bar ten minutes ago, I found myself shocked to realize that I had been expecting her to be less intelligent than he was. The sudden sense of shame from that moment of self-awareness forced me to drop the subject.

"I see what you mean. I'll… I'll try not to pry."

She blew out her cheeks in an explosive sigh. "No, that's not what I meant. I just want you to promise not to get pissed if I don't volunteer everything right away."

"Ok," my guilt deepened, but long habit forced the next question from me. "Are you still working for them?"

She knew who I meant, and her eye roll convinced me more than the sincerity in her voice. "I stopped working for them the day you met Al. Shit. Do you think I'd be doing this," she jerked a thumb toward the club, "three nights a week if I still had cash available from overseas?"

"I thought Al said you had to pay your own way?"

"Yeah, I was the contact point. Until I quit, we still could get some cash if we needed it. Now? If they knew where we were living they'd probably send more hit squads after us, just to make an example."

"More?"

Sue's grin turned feral for just a moment. "Yeah. Al's not as harmless as he looks. He's a pretty good business manager too."

I shook my head, a grin finding its way to my face. "Okay. I still want to know about the pole."

"There might have been one."

"Um… NO. I looked. I saw Candy jump through that spot in her second set, and she and Pixie set the box there."

She shrugged and turned to tow me toward the front lot. "There still might have been one there."

I didn't resist, but I did argue with her. "No, there wasn't one."

Her next words hit me like a brick to the face. "I know there wasn't. I just said there might have been. That's good enough for me."

"But you're not a Mage?"

I lost her reply in a sudden crash of bending metal and shattering glass from the front lot. We stared at each other for a moment, and then I dashed around the building. I didn't even think about it; someone might be hurt, and while I'm not a paramedic, I can call nine-one-one as well as anyone. I also know a little first aid, enough to apply a tourniquet at least. Sue still held my hand, moving with me so easily it didn't register until we rounded the corner into the front lot.

I stopped, scanning the lot to see where the sound came from. Sue saw it first. Her voice was absolutely flat when she spoke.

"Shit."

I glanced toward her, followed her gaze to the club's sign. In the shadow near the pole, two figures stood, one at each end of my little Leaf. One leaned idly on it, staring at us. The other spun one of the tires where it stuck into the air. Both of them looked up at Sue's quiet oath, and I slid slowly backward, trying not to set off a predatory chase response before we got around the corner. Sue's grip on my hand stopped me. I turned my head slowly to face her. She stood sideways, facing me, her eyes darting to either side.

I was never a field agent. I'm not a combatant. I'm a math professor who did high level cryptography for a government agency. I completely missed her cue and looked behind me. Another biker leaned against the wall, this one with a length of motorcycle drive chain wrapped around his fist. Sue leaned into me, burying her face in my shoulder.

The biker with the chain barked out a harsh laugh at that. His voice was a low growl, guttural and hard to understand. "Stupid slut. Two days she teases us, then she thinks she's walkin' out of here with a monkey. You some kinda big badass, boy?"

Sue's voice tickled my ear, so low I barely heard it. "Can you drive a double clutch?"

My answer, unfortunately, was the same for both of them. "Uh, no?"

"Shitsticks with shitsicles for dessert."

"Well then, boy, we'll take it easy on you. We'll break y'all arms and let you watch while we teach y'all's slut a lesson. If you're real docile, we might not kill you after. Grab her."

I didn't hear them come up behind me. The moment chain-boy gave his order, Sue was yanked from my arms. For a split second I saw fury light her eyes. She hid it before the bikers saw it. The chain biker walked toward me, lifting the fist with the chain. I turned away, hoping it wouldn't hurt much, so I stood in the perfect position to watch Sue.

One biker, less patient than the others, pulled his pants down. The other had Sue's elbows pinned behind her back. If I hadn't seen her do similar contortions on stage, I would have been wincing in sympathy for her. Instead, I spent what might be my last moments of consciousness marveling at how beautiful she was, even when sucking her lungs full of air.

"One scream and I kill lover boy painfully, bitch." The lead biker's voice was terrifyingly devoid of anger. This wasn't something he was doing out of rage. He was going to hurt us because he liked hurting people.

Sue smirked at him. Then she spat at him. It wasn't a gesture of defiance. This was an explosive emptying of her lungs; I felt something fly past my face, ruffling my beard. Behind me, I heard the chain rattle, followed by the meaty sound of metal on flesh as the lead biker started screaming.

The biker with his pants down grabbed at his crotch when Sue's foot shot out toward him, but she wasn't aiming for his genitals. Her foot caught his chin hard enough to flip him over backward. He crashed face first into the ground. The sound of his nose breaking mingled with the sound of Sue stamping down on her captor's foot. Tortured metal screamed louder than the biker; her foot flat on the ground, his steel-toed boot crushed beneath her heel.

"Run!"

She didn't have to tell me twice. I spun and sprinted past the biker with the chain. He lay on his back, heels drumming on the ground, blood pouring from his eye. Before I'd taken three steps, I heard someone coming up behind me. Sue dashed past me, obviously not headed for the back door. As I passed it, I realized why. The outside had no handle.

I rounded the corner into the employee lot. I never thought I'd be so happy to see Al's tow truck in my life. I made it halfway there before an inhuman howling echoed from the front lot. The noise of Sue wrenching the door open eclipsed the lupine noises. I headed for the passenger side, but she yelled at me.

"This side, Zed! The passenger door sticks!"

I braced myself to climb into the driver's door, but I needn't have bothered. Before my foot hit the step, Sue threw me headfirst into the truck. I bounced off the far door and wound up upside down on the seat. Before I could figure out a way to set myself to rights, the big diesel roared to life, and Sue threw the truck into reverse.

We hit something that whined almost like a kicked dog, and Sue slammed the truck into gear. For a moment she let go of the gear shift to snag my seatbelt and yank it across me. I wasn't sure how useful it was going to be with my thighs against the back of the seat and my head where my knees should be, but I was too terrified to complain. Acceleration pinned me to the seat back better than any restraint. A masculine scream of rage cut off with a meaty thump. The truck bounced three times, and we were on the highway headed South.

Sue's smile was as bright as ever, but her words were harsh.

"Stupid mutts don’t understand the difference between a Leaf and a Peterbilt."

I felt a little motion sick, but I didn't want to unbuckle if we were going to be doing any more crazy maneuvering. I heard nausea in my voice when I spoke.

"Hey, is it ok for me to get upright?"

She looked down at me, blinking. "Oh, hell. Um… Hang on."

I grabbed for the door handle and clung for dear life as she slid us, tires chirping, through a long S turn, right then left then right again. She shifted gears once more, and then reached over to pop my seatbelt.

"I appreciate the hand, but could you… could you keep your eyes on the road?"

She laughed at me, but she looked back at the road. I levered myself up until I lay with my back on the seat, my head on Sue's lap, my knees drawn up with my feet pressed against the passenger side door. Sue's thigh was warm through the material of her coat, almost as hot as the look she turned on me.

"Yeah, while you're down there…"

The adrenaline still coursed through me, making me giddy. I couldn't help it, I started laughing.

"I think the angle's bad."

Her smile went from hot to diabolic, and my face burned when she yanked the fabric of her coat off her lap. My cheek lay against her bare thigh. I kept my gaze locked on her face, but nothing could mask the faint smell of sweat, of perfume, of woman. She reached over me to the gearshift, and her thighs bunched as she changed gears.

"Damn. I think you're right. Shit. Well, I guess you'll just have to enjoy the view until we get to your place."

I was impressed with myself; I didn't take her up on the invitation. I couldn't resist commenting though. "You must be wearing the world's shortest skirt."

"Yeah. No. Look, I have a confession to make."

I tensed. I couldn't help it. I was a sucker, but that didn't mean I liked it when people lied to me. My voice was thick with trepidation when I replied to her. "Go on…"

Despite her lack of a skirt, she looked almost shy. Just like posing for me in the club, she was naked again. That got me. My gaze dropped down, inadvertently coming to rest between her thighs, then jumped back up to her face. As far as I could see, she was nude under the coat, but it was her face that was naked.

"Yeah. I've been waiting for you. I've been waiting for you since the day you met… Since the day you met Al."

"Is his real name Al?"

She shrugged. "It's as good as any other. It's what's on his driver's license."

"You want me to trust you, but you avoid my questions."

Of all the possible responses, I didn't expect her to grin. "Yeah, I'm a piece of work, aren't I? Shit, you don't know the half of it. Look… it really doesn’t matter who we were…"

"Try telling that to the Feds."

"Yeah, no. I try that and I’m going to get deported. You know what would really suck about that?"

"No, what?"

She looked down at me, and I could see nothing but sincerity in her eyes when she said, "You can't leave the States."

"Yeah, you could wind up in Guantanamo Bay and you're worried about me?"

"Yeah, no. I'm worried that you wouldn't be here when I got back."

"Sue?"

"Yes, Zed?"

"Please watch the road."

Her smile came back, sunrise on the beach. "Zed, are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

Her eyes rolled back, and another spurt of terror clutched at me. Her right hand drifted down to my chest. Her fingers danced down my front, not lingering until they reached my thighs. My slacks weren't thick fabric, nor were the boxers beneath them. I had a hard time concentrating on what she said next.

"Are you really hungry?" Sue punctuated her words by taking a firm grip on my dick. Even through two layers of cloth I could feel the heat of her palm.

"Suddenly I'm not interested in anything I could get in a restaurant."

There was no humor in her voice when she spoke. Just an earnest monotone that told me she was absolutely sincere.

"Zed, you could get me any place, any time. Just say the word."

I stared up at her, my mood suddenly serious. She wasn't smiling. Her guarded expression told me without words that she was waiting for my answer. I moved slowly because I know how accident prone I am. I pushed myself upright, slid over next to her on the seat. When I was buckled into the middle seat, my legs straddling the shifter, I reached out and laid my hand over hers.

"Why don’t we go back to your place?"

A smile teased at the corner of Sue's mouth. "It might get a little hot. I can't afford to keep the AC on all night."

"We can't open the windows?"

Her smile turned hungry, and my gut clenched again. I was alone in a truck with a strange Shifter, and she was smiling hungrily and looking at me. Worst of all, I didn't want to run. "I get loud. It's a habit I picked up. Can't seem to break it."

Her smile turned brittle. She was still hungry, still amused, but something was terrifying her. I was trapped in a truck with a hungry, terrified Shifter. I was going to wind up a post-coital snack. "My… clients seemed to like it a lot."

With that, everything Al told me about Sue's past crashed over me like a tsunami. Part of me wanted to pull away, but most of me just realized how hard this must be for her. I lifted my hand from hers and laid an arm over her shoulder. Her shoulders were tense, but they relaxed as she felt me lean back, pulling her toward me.

Well, I tried to, anyhow. She didn't move much.

"Lucky for you I like smart men."

"Why?"

"Well, if I didn't like you, I'd break your arm for holding my shifting hand while I'm trying to drive."

I couldn't think straight for all the conflicting emotions tearing at me. "Y'know, that's kind of a mood killer."

"What?"

"The whole broken limbs thing. I mean, those take a long time to heal for the merely mortal among us."

"Ah, shit. You talk about it so casually I assume… I forgot, ok? I'm trying to… I want to… Crap." She turned the wheel, easing us off the highway. A few lights later and we were on the turnpike headed North. The feel of her muscles moving beneath her coat as she drove was exciting. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating. The faint frown on her face was sobering. The way her stomach rumbled was terrifying. When she spoke, it was all I could do to keep from jumping.

"Answer me a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

My gonads threatened to rebel if I lied. "Yes."

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

Now I wanted to lie, but if I wanted her to tell the truth, I had to do the same. "Maybe."

"On purpose?"

"Maybe."

Her shoulders sagged beneath my arm. I tensed a bit, mostly because she was staring at her own knees as she maneuvered the truck into the parking lot of a rest stop. She pulled into one of the spots reserved for tractor trailers without looking.

"Do you think I would hurt you for saying 'no' to the sex thing?"

I thought about that. Not for long; I didn't know whether I was right or not, but I knew what I believed. "No. I really don’t."

"So you think I'm going to hurt you for fun?"

"Or by accident."

She shut down the truck and leaned back. The sudden darkness and silence were both intimate and frightening. "I don't get off on hurting people, Zed. I don’t think so, anyway."

I felt my lips draw up in an involuntary smirk. I thanked a god I barely believed in for the darkness of the cab. "You don't know whether you get off on it?"

"I don't know what gets me off, Zed." She leaned into me, settling her face into my neck and inhaling deeply. Her tongue slid across the skin over my jugular vein. My whole body tensed, although I still didn't know if it came from fear or arousal. Probably both. The combination tore through me, and my libido got control of my mouth again.

"Mind if I take a shot at it?"

"I thought you'd never ask."