Bastien was in the city for some reason or another that night, so he picked me up later and drove me over to his place for the ridiculous heist at Dana's. When I saw the post-sex energy wreathing him, I knew what had brought him downtown.

"Don't you get tired of getting laid every day?" I asked him, wishing I could have gotten laid last night.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't actually just ask that, Fleur ."He then proceeded to ramble on about his various Dana sightings in the last few days, how chummy they were getting, how it could only be a matter of time before the inevitable.

When I didn't really respond, he cut me a sidelong glance. "What's the matter with you? You look miserable."

I sighed. "I kissed Seth last night."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What else happened?"

"Well…nothing. I mean, a little groping here and there, but that's it."

"So?"

"So, I shouldn't have done it."

A dismissive look crossed his face. "A kiss is nothing. It's not like you gave him a blow job or anything."

"Good lord, you're crass."

"Don't act like I offended your delicate sensibilities. And you know what I'm talking about."

"Doesn't matter. I was weak. I got some of his energy from that."

" Fleur , I love you as much as I've ever managed to love anybody, but this whole thing is absurd. You're never going to be happy until you've fucked this guy, so just get it over with. It'll take away the whole forbidden attraction and allow both of you to get on with your lives. "

"'Get on with our lives?' What's that supposed to mean?" I asked sharply.

"I mean half the reason you guys are so infatuated with each other is because you can't have each other. It's not love, but it is a normal human reaction, a catalyst for physical attraction." He paused and considered. "Your maniacal obsession with his books might also be a factor."

"That's not true. None of that's true at all. Well, I mean, those books are good enough to be the basis of a religion, but that's not the same thing. That's not why I…"

Love him? Hell. I still didn't know if I did or not. I wasn't even sure what love was after all this time.

Bastien shook his head, not believing me but not wanting to argue either. "Fine. Keep going with this. I still think you should fuck him, though. Even if it doesn't make you both realize you're better off apart, it'll at least remove one source of tension between you and maybe let you attempt some sort of normal dysfunctional relationship."

I stared bleakly into space. "I can't. Not even one night. It'd take years off his life. I couldn't live with myself."

"Bah. Only a handful of years at most. What's that? Besides, men have done stupider things for sex—with women they don't even really like. If he really does love you, he might think it's a fair trade."

I shuddered. I didn't think it was fair at all, but he was right about the silly things men would do for sex. I'd seen and initiated plenty of them.

We finally gave up both sides of the argument when we pulled into his driveway. The clock was ticking, and we had to start this operation. Bastien had watched Dana and Bill drive off earlier, and their teenage son had gone down the street to stay at a friend's house. Shifting to be invisible to mortal eyes, Bastien and I crept out the back of his house and scaled the fence into Dana's yard. It sort of made me feel like I was in a spy movie; I half wished we could crawl under some motion-detecting lasers.

"They have a security system," I whispered to Bastien as I watched him pick the back door's lock. More useful skills gleaned from long centuries. "Being invisible isn't going to deactivate it. "

"No problem. I've done some invisible reconnaissance. I know the code."

Sure enough, he punched it into the console once we were in the house, and the readout's red light turned green.

We started in the Dailey office, as that seemed like the most logical place to stash paperwork. Dana had a meticulous sense of organization that creeped me out, and we had to make sure we left everything the way we found it.

Unfortunately, most of the stuff was completely useless. Memos. Efficient—and honest—budget reports. Invoices. Press releases. She had a lot of pictures too, which were at least more fun to look at than the papers. Most of them showed family or CPFV events. A number of the shots had Jody in them, which saddened me. I recalled the other woman's sly wit and passion for art. Why would someone with any sort of intelligence want to get involved in all this?

"I didn't realize how active Jody was in this group," I remarked to Bastien. "She wasn't so bad. Dana's corrupted her."

"Dana's a persuasive woman. Hey, did you know Jody's last name is Daniels? And her husband's name is Jack?"

We giggled over that and continued searching a while longer before finally abandoning the office. We then ransacked—neatly, of course—any other cupboards or drawers we could find on the main floor. Nothing.

"Maybe there are secret panels behind paintings," suggested Bastien.

"Or maybe the pool-boy thing was a fraud, Dana's honest with her business dealings, and there's really nothing else to get on her except that she's a prejudiced bitch."

He rolled his eyes. "One place left. The true sanctuary. The bedroom."

I grimaced. Going into someone's bedroom freaked me out. The ultimate violation of privacy. But Bastien charged on, still confident this wild goose chase would yield results.

Fortunately, the bedroom had the neat, sterile look of a hotel, not the warm and sensual air of one's most intimate space. It made searching easier, like I was breaking into a vacant room. We sifted through drawers and closets, again finding little to go on.

"Eek!" I suddenly cried, staring into an open drawer. Bastien flew to me.

"What? What is it?"

I held up what had to be the most wholesome pair of granny panties I'd ever seen. They were like great-granny panties. They were even white. You would have thought she could at least go out on a limb and get them in blue or green or something.

Bastien elbowed me for my overreaction. "How can you even act surprised after hearing her rants about modest clothing?"

"Modest is one thing, but Jesus…how high do these things go? Up to her neck?"

"Put them back. We've got to—"

Click. We'd both heard. I shot Bastien a panicked look and shoved the underwear back in the drawer. "I thought you said—" His tone was grim. "I know, I know." Someone had just entered the house.

 We stood rooted in the bedroom, frozen, both of us too terrified to blink. Downstairs, the door shut and footsteps could be clearly heard on the hardwood floor. A low murmur of voices drifted up, the words inaudible.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered. Invisible we might be, but I still didn't want to slink through the house with others around. It would also make leaving inconspicuously a problem.

Bastien frowned, apparently trying to discern the words below. "Those are all male voices. Not Dana. Come on."

He grabbed my arm, and we crept out into the hallway where we could hear more clearly.

"You sure they aren't coming home?" asked an anxious voice.

"Yup. They'll be out 'til, like, midnight."

"Cool."

Bastien grinned at me. "Reese," he breathed.

Reese. The son. The son who was supposed to be down the street at a friend's house. That was better than Dana, but still disconcerting. I shot Bastien a questioning look. What's he doing here? I mouthed.

Bastien shrugged by way of answer and gestured for me to follow him the rest of the way downstairs. Reese and his friend obliviously made enough noise to cover any of our movements.