Or not to meet them so much as graze past them, before concentrating on his chin. She didn't dare stare
directly into them for long.
"Maybe she is from another planet," Quinn was saying to the girl. "Maybe she's not human. Maybe I'm
not, either."
That's right, Rashel thought. Make fun of them by telling them a truth they won't believe.
But, she noticed, Quinn looked more as if he didn't care what they found out than as if he were mocking
them. "Maybe she's from another world. Did you ever think of that?"
Rashel was confused again. Quinn seemed to be trying to get himself killed. He appeared to be verging
on telling these girls about the Night World, and under the laws of the Night World, that was punishable
by death.
You're really slipping, Rashel thought. First the slave trade, now this. I thought you were supposed to be
such a stickler for the law.
"There are darker dimensions," Quinn was confiding to the group, "than you have ever imagined. But,
you see, it's all part of life's grand design, so it's all right. Did you know"-he put his arm around a girl's
shoulders, gesturing outward as if inviting her to look at some horizon-"that there's a certain kind of wasp
that lays its eggs in the body of a caterpillar? A live caterpillar. And it stays alive, you see, while the eggs
hatch and the little waspettes eat it from the inside out. Now, who do you think invented that?"
Rashel wondered if vampires could get drunk.
"That would probably be the most horrible way to die," Daphne chimed in, her musical voice ghoulish.
"Being eaten by insects. Or maybe being burned."
"It would probably depend on how fast you burned," Quinn said meditatively. "A flash of fire-high
enough temperature-you bum the nerves out in the first few seconds. Slow baking would be different."
"I'm writing a poem about fire," Rashel said. She was surprised to find that she was annoyed because
Quinn didn't really seem to have noticed her. On second thought, she should be annoyed; her plan
depended on him not only noticing but choosing her.
She was going to have to capture his attention.
"Do you have it with you?" Daphne was asking helpfully.
"No, but I can tell you the beginning," Rashel said. She braced herself to look at Quinn as she
recited:
"There's warmth in ice; there's cooling peace in fire,
And midnight light to show us all the way. The dancing flame becomes a funeral pyre; The Dark was
more enticing than the Day."
Quinn blinked. Then he smiled, and he looked Rashel over, dearly taking notice of the velvet jumpsuit
and ending with her face. He looked everywhere... except into her eyes.
"That's right; you've got it," he said with that same brittle exhilaration. "And there's plenty of dark out
there for everyone."
Rashel's worry that he might look too deep if he met her gaze was groundless. Quinn didn't seem to be
really seeing anybody here.
"There is plenty of darkness," Rashel said. She moved toward him, feeling strangely brave. Her instincts
sensed a weakness in him, a flaw. "It's everywhere. It's inescapable. So the only thing we can do is
embrace it." She was standing right in front of him now, looking at his mouth. "If we hold it dose, it won't
hurt so much."
"Well. Exactly." Quinn showed his teeth, but it wasn't the manic smile. It was a grimace. He didn't look
happy anymore; suddenly, for just an instant, he looked tired and sick. He was almost leaning away from
Rashel.
"I came here so I could do that," Rashel said in a sultry voice. She was scaring herself a little. In the
name of the charade, she was doing everything she could to seduce him-but it was surprisingly easy and
surprisingly enjoyable. There was a sort of tingling all over her body, as if the jumpsuit had picked up a
charge.
"I came to look for the darkness," she said. Softly.
Quinn laughed abruptly. The feverish good humor came flooding back. "And you found it," he said. He
went on laughing and laughing, and he reached out to touch Rashel's cheek.
Don't let him touch you!
The thought flashed through Rashel's mind and communicated to her muscles in an instant. Without
knowing how she knew, she was certain that if he touched her, it would all be over. It was skin-to-skin
contact that had nearly fried every circuit in her brain before.
She danced back from his fingertips and smiled teasingly, while her heart tried to pound its way out of
her chest.
"This place is so crowded," she said throatily.
"Huh? Oh. Then why don't we schedule something more private? I could pick you up tomorrow night.
Say seven o'clock in the parking lot."
Bingo.
"But Quinn." It was Daphne, looking aggrieved.
"You told me to meet you tomorrow." She trembled her chin.
Quinn stared at her, and for once, Rashel could read his face easily. He was thinking that anybody that
stupid deserved it.
"Well, you can both come," he said expansively. "Why not? The more the merrier."
He walked away laughing and laughing.
Rashel watched him go, resisting an impulse to shake her head. She'd done it; she'd passed the last test
and been chosen. So why was her heart still pounding?
She glanced out of the side of her eye at Daphne. "Well, I don't know about anybody else, but I've had
enough excitement for tonight." She went to get her coat, with the rest of Quinn's coterie glaring jealously
after her.
She had one enjoyable experience on the way out. Ivan, still slouching, tried to stop her at the door.
"Shelly, hey. I thought we were going to get to know each other better."
Rashel didn't need him anymore; she had her invitation. "I'd rather get to know a head louse," she said in
her sweet chatty voice, and she stepped on his foot hard with her high heel.
In the car, she waited a full twenty minutes, watching the front of the club, before Daphne joined her.
"Sorry, but I didn't want anybody to think we were leaving together."
"You did a great job," Rashel said, driving away. "You even managed to get both of us invited to meet
Quinn together-that was dangerous, but it worked. The only thing that surprised me is that he invited us in
front of everybody. Is that how he did it before?"
"No. Not at all. Last time, he sort of whispered it to me when nobody was around. But, you know,
nothing was normal tonight. I mean, he usually asks new girls questions-I guess to figure out if they have
families who'll miss them. And he isn't usually that-that..."
"Manic?"
"Yeah. I wonder what's going on with him?"
Rashel pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead through the windshield.
"You sure you want to go through with this?"
It was Sunday night and they were nearing the parking lot of the Crypt.
"I've told you and told you," Daphne said. "I'm ready. I can do it."
"Okay. But, listen, if there's any trouble, I want you to run. Run away from the club and don't look back
for me. All right?"
Daphne nodded. At Rashel's suggestion, she was wearing something more sensible tonight: black pants
heavy enough to provide some warmth, a dark sweater, and shoes she could run in. Rashel was dressed
the same way, except that she was wearing high boots. The knife was in one.
"You go first," Rashel said, parking a street away from the club. "I'll come in a minute."
She watched Daphne walk away, hoping she wasn't going to get this little blond bunny killed.
She herself was the danger. Quinn was going to use mind control on them to get them to go to the
warehouse quietly. And Rashel wasn't sure what would happen when he did it.
Just don't let him touch you, she told herself. You can carry it off as long as he doesn't touch you.
Five minutes later, she started toward the Crypt.
Quinn was in the dark parking lot, standing by a silvery-gray Lexus. As Rashel reached the car, she saw
the pale blob of Daphne's face through the window.
"I almost thought you weren't coming." There was now a sort of savagery mixed in with Quinn's lunatic
good humor. As if he was angry she wasn't smart enough to save herself.
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rashel kept her eyes on the car. She wanted to get this over
with. "Are we going somewhere?"
There was that tiny hesitation that seemed to come every time she spoke to him, as if it were taking him
a minute to focus. Or as if he were trying to figure something out, she thought nervously.
Then he answered smoothly, "Oh, right, get in."
Rashel got in. She glanced once at Daphne in the back seat. Daphne said, "What's up?" in a chirpy voice
laced with feminine rivalry.
Good girl.
Quinn was getting in the driver's side. Once the door was shut, he turned the engine on to run the heater.
The windows immediately began to fog.
Rashel sat in a state of continuing mind, ready for the unexpected at any moment.
Only the unexpected didn't come. Nothing came. Quinn was just sitting there in the driver's seat.