of Matthias?"
That one was really a surprise. "I thought he was nice. Do you know him?"
"Only by reputation," said Luis. I was about to use the interruption to ask Jamie about Milton again, but before I could, Luis effortlessly slipped back to gin science, effectively blocking me from the imp's attention. Tomorrow, I decided.
"You know," said Phoebe slyly. "I could help you find Matthias if you wanted to see him tonight."
Even afloat on vodka gimlets, I still knew the right and wrong surrounding any sort of casual romance with Matthias. If I was going to hook up with anyone while I was here, it wasn't going to be anybody I would ever consider seriously.
I flashed her and Bastien my best saucy succubus smile. "Nah, too tame. I'm not here to settle down yet. Let's find something wilder and do this Vegas weekend right."
Bastien whooped with joy and caught hold of my hand. As he led me away, telling me about "this perfect dance club," I caught sight of Luis's face. He was nodding at Jamie, still seemingly interested in their debate . . . but there was something about the satisfied, knowing smile on Luis's lips that made me think it wasn't just the gin he was so happy about.
Chapter 9
It wasn't until I landed in Seattle on Sunday evening that the full surreal nature of my weekend in Las Vegas hit me. Being there had felt so . . . natural. I suppose part of that was just having old friends like Bastien and Luis around. Yet I'd been pleasantly surprised at how easily I got along with my newer acquaintances, like Phoebe and Matthias. I'd even grown to like Jamie, though I never did see him after that night. Despite my efforts to find him and ask him about Milton, the imp had remained elusive for the rest of my trip.
And the show . . . how had that happened? I couldn't even get a solid job here in my current hometown, yet hours after walking off the plane in a strange city, I'd landed what was, in many ways, my dream job. By the time we'd finished our second practice, Matthias was already talking about a special part he planned on creating for me, and several of the other dancers were so disappointed at me leaving for a month, you'd think we'd known each other for years.
It had, in spite of my misgivings, been a fantastic weekend.
Reality set in when I walked into my condo. Roman was out, with only a note reading Bowling practice tomorrow night to mark his passage. Naturally, the cats were as happy to see me as always. Scratching their heads in turn, I began to think about the logistics of moving both of them with me across state lines. I'd be taking them away from Roman, whom they loved, but there was nothing to be done for that. He couldn't come with us. As a nephilim, he was in constant danger of being hunted down by other immortals, and it was only Jerome's protection that allowed him to have a seminormal life in Seattle. Roman certainly wasn't going to give that up, and besides, Las Vegas was probably the worst place in the world for him to attempt to hide out.
A vase of pink-tipped white roses sat on the kitchen table, filling the air with sweetness. I opened up the card and read Seth's scrawled writing:
Welcome home. I've been counting the minutes.
- S
I texted him that I was back and received an answer urging me to come over to Terry and Andrea's for dinner. After leaving a note for Roman assuring him I'd be at practice, I headed out, my mind still spinning with more of the consequences of moving. The condo. I'd have to sell it. Unless I wanted to rent it to Roman? Hell would likely compensate any moving costs, but it'd be up to me to start making the actual arrangements now for things like movers and whatnot.
I was good at making plans and organizing things, but all of my skills were useless against the one thing I wanted to bring with me to Las Vegas the most: Seth. I still had no solution for what to do with him.
I was met with the usual outpouring of love from his nieces when I arrived, just in time for a chaotic family dinner. With the additional family members, they'd given up any pretense of eating at the kitchen