Beaucoup de Chair Burlesque beckoned the five senses. Patrons were treated to delicious cuisine. Double-battered shrimp with house tartar sauce. Spicy boiled crawfish. The music was sensual jazz, rhythm-and-blues. Women flashed skin, and the audience broke into applause we heard all the way backstage.

For a lucky few, one-on-ones would be arranged later, but tonight my mind wasn't on sexual rendezvous as Kittie Cad and I made it to work. I was anxious to return to Aurie. She needed a guide through Overlay City to complete her unfinished business. That would be my good deed.

"Plus, don't forget the shelter," said Kittie at the dressing room.

"Volunteer at the hospital, the church, and the shelter? You act as if I've committed some heinous crime and need to atone."

"I act like making others happy will make you happy, Mys. Now, lace me up, darling."

I waggled brows at the red corset. "Is this how your Mister ties you up?"

Kittie gasped and swatted me. After I cinched her waist, she adjusted her gaff and reached for her wig. The hairspray and perfume-hazed room was full of girls of all stripes. I was the only dancer slipping into a restroom stall to change into my glittery Great Gatsby flapper costume.

"Hey, are you scheduled for a date tomorrow night, or can you take a breather?" Kittie asked when I stepped out.

"Got a businessman flying in from the Netherlands. Why?"

She huffed. "Doesn't it get old? I know you're not hurting for money. Don't you want a regular he-only-pays-for-dinner kind of date?"

Wow. I slowly turned away with my makeup bag. Staring at the long mirror framed in glamor lights that the Beaucoup de Chair girls shared, I dug around in the bag to cover how much the comment stung, especially coming from my best friend.

Realizing her mistake, Kittie touched my shoulder to apologize, but I shook her off.

"I didn't mean that the way it came out, Mys."

I smiled stiffly at my reflection. No, I sensed what she meant was to lead up to telling me her relationship was getting serious. That our bond would take a hit because of it. Was that why she wanted to set me up with new people? Gods. I hoped not.

Kittie Cad knew my abandonment issues—adopted, put out at sixteen—but I had never begrudged her happiness. She had no right to assume I didn't know how to appreciate a "he-only-pays-for-dinner kind of date."

What the hell is that anyway, Kittie? My trembling hands applied makeup. The lipstick fell from nerveless fingers as a part of me wondered if she was right. Would I know love when I saw it? I capped the lipstick, putting it in my bag.

"I understand we're not in the same line of work anymore, but don't judge me, Ms. Cad," I said as I strutted off. "Everyone doesn't want the white picket fence. I'm up next. Don't wait around."

I escaped to the eaves, glad Kittie Cad left me alone. I lingered next to the bulletin board where management had tacked an announcement about Beaucoup de Chair getting new owners. By the time my song opened, I was composed. I tucked my vape pen between my breast and underwire and sashayed out.

My heels punctuated the stage like exclamation points. At the center, I pivoted to the audience, and my half-smile broadened with the building music. I began to dance. Catcalls nearly drowned out the slowed-down cover of Nina Simone's "I Put a Spell on You."

I could've performed the jaded seductress for this one. Instead, I played the artless ingenue in love too deep for her own good. That won more applause.

My hands framed my modest chest and slid down my narrow waist to the understated flare of my hips. With a roll of shoulders, the silver costume revealed supple spine as I turned and twitched my heart-shaped derriere, to the crowd's amusement.

I tossed the fringe of black hair from my face and gave them eyes. Eyes and emotion. Emotion and vulnerability. Performance. Except, burlesque wasn't about choreography. No matter how practiced, it was an improvisation between dancer and onlooker, my forte. I was skilled at sensing what people wanted and giving it to them.

I scanned the audience with Empathy for someone in need of attention. Though I couldn't see past the lights, he saw me as clearly as I felt him. My body carried the music to the throbbing zone of aching desire at the back of the club, and the unseen onlooker's passion built within my consciousness like billowing smoke.

All my life had been such a show. From acting the perfect girl-child to pretending to have the best of both worlds as an adult. It seemed I had even fooled myself into thinking my lifelong best friend accepted me. How could she? She barely knew me. I made sure of that.

After the last fading wail of my dance number petered out, the crowd was rendered mute. It wasn't until my heels plunked the stage in retreat that the club exploded in a standing ovation. People shouted for an encore, but I ignored them. It was some other girl's turn.

I avoided the dressing room and headed to the bar. "The usual, right?" The bartender plunked a lowball glass on the bar top.

"Two fingers of bourbon, please."

A deep voice stirred behind me. "You know, you're not easy to pin down."

"Detective Ravani?" I glanced over my shoulder in surprise. "Are you following me?"

"I'm glad I persisted. That was quite the performance...Got someplace private we can talk?" At my speculative eyebrow raise, he flashed a crooked smile and said, "About Aurie."

"I get off at two. Enjoy the show and you can walk me home." The upturned gaze and coquettish smile were a smidge more flirtatious than I intended, but the detective leaned against the bar and flirted right along.

"Ooh, that's a big ask. You're lucky I left my truck at your place. I guess I can stick around until you're done." He smiled, handing a twenty to the bartender when I reached in my top to pay. I raised my chin quizzically at him, but his eyes were on the butterfly tattoos at my wrists. I hid them on reflex. "I do have one quick question, though," he murmured, eyes returning to mine.

Something restless and needy stirred beneath his surface, something longstanding that didn't necessarily have anything to do with me, but...I wavered as he leaned close enough for his blood orange and spicy cardamom scent to permeate my senses.

"Yes?" I breathed.

"What are you, Mys?"

I gave a wordless smile and withdrew. Detective Zyr observed me until I disappeared behind the dressing room door.

Don't let yourself develop some tsundere infatuation. Just don't. I stole glances at the detective as we walked the short distance from the club to my apartment. He was gorgeous. Piercing eyes, wavy black hair, olive skin, manicured beard. He seemed too young to be the lead on the case.

"Twenty-six," he said when I asked.

"Impressive. You must've worked your ass off to get here."

"I love the challenge. Law enforcement helps channel my energy. Otherwise, my frustration builds up." He put a hand at eye-level and smiled.

A shiver tickled my insides. I cleared my throat, and I smoothed a hand over the knee-length linen shift I had changed into after work, a more feminine chic. I ignored the idea the style change had anything to do with him.

"So, what do you want to know about Aurie?"

"You knew her before?" Zyr asked.

"Fake news. She followed me home last night. Thinks I'm some kind of psychic. Ignores intuition a lot, for a Supernatural."

We shared a laugh, but he sobered. "She might be in danger. A vampire pet was sniffing around your place after you left. Normally, I'd secure paranormal protection for a witness as important as she is, but I can't this round."

I stopped and faced Detective Ravani beneath a streetlamp. We were almost home, but I wanted to prolong the walk. "You think the vampires did this?" I asked.

"My suspect is Darcy Cyprian."

I whistled. "An Overlay City political hotshot. That's a yikes."

"Exactly. I don't want to give him a head's up about where she is, but I can't arrange official protection without him finding out. I need outside assistance. Your place is enchanted. Aurie should stay there until I know for sure he's not searching for her."

"That's a big ask!" I stuck my hands in the pockets of my dress, taking off again. A half-smile twitched my lips. "How about a favor for a favor. I've decided to guide Aurie completing her unfinished business, which I think is to live a little."

"How vague." He lifted a brow.

"She played by the rules her whole life. She probably only needs to have one Super wild and crazy night, and I bet someone like you could—um—free her mind, body, and soul. Know what I mean?"

"I'm sure I don't." His twinkling grin said he understood me perfectly.

"Let me spell it out for you: S-E-X with a werewolf." I tugged my laptop bag over my shoulder and nudged him. The idea came to me on the fly, but it seemed legit. It didn't get any edgier than that.

"Nahin, no. I hope she comes to see me like family. Anyway, how's that a favor for a favor? What's in it for you?" he asked. We were at the gate to the cathedral, and he glanced over his shoulder as if hearing something.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I keep feeling like somebody's following us. There's no vampire scent, though."

"Then it sounds like you're trying to change the subject. What do you say to a one-night stand with a haint?"

"I'm serious. They're perhaps two blocks back. I don't want to lead trouble to your doorstep."

As he surveyed our surroundings, I cast my Empathy to see for myself. "I don't sense trouble, but if you want to be on the safe side, come on."

"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise as I dragged him through the gate and into the shadows on the side of the church.

"Try to make this fake PDA look convincing. Nobody ever bothers lovers."

"Wha—? Look convincing?"

He emitted a tense laugh, his lips near mine. My Empathy lit up with his desire to shapeshift to meet the threat, but he fought that urge until a more unexpected craving arose. Suddenly, Detective Ravani was nuzzling my mouth and nipping at my lips, and I helplessly chased the contact, under the influence of his arousal and my own.

As his velvet tongue curled inside my mouth, his question came rushing back. What was in it for me? Why give a kiss like this to a ghost?

Because my parents had taught me selflessness was the way to eternal happiness. Damn, damn, damn. The detective's lips slid and slanted over mine, and I had to get real. It wasn't a completely selfless good deed. My end goal was to usher these people out of my life. No matter how tempting, I couldn't handle complications like this kiss or last night's swoon over my cologne.

I sensed Aurie was the detective's answer to ending a complex rivalry with Darcy Cyprian; and, I felt certain Detective Zyr was Aurie's wild ride to Heaven. It was a win-win.

A moan spilled from me when his fiery mouth broke from mine. And what did I need? This. I needed more of this. No, you don't need to be kissing boys in dark alleys, I chastised. I needed to be—

"Convinced?" he asked.

Left alone. A remorseful grin flitted across my face as I jerked my chin upward. I wanted every bit of what his firm grasp and hot mouth promised, but one of us had to be sensible.

"I'm convinced you need to know what I am."