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since she’d connected with someone other than a fling, but with Slade… Why would she think home with him? Why couldn’t she read his thoughts?
    “Besides watching baseball, studying American history, and eating fruitcake, what do you do to fill your time as a trust-fund baby, then?”
    His breath brushed against her lips. She worked a leg between his so they could sway even closer. “Hang out at bars and dance with frat boys. You didn’t know that about us French girls, I take it?”
    He huffed.
    “Not much. Organize a few charities. You know, stuff like that.” So her imaginary profile indicated. Though Halena would do that if she wasn’t busy battling demons or helping Theo and Justin search for the remaining Artifacts. The Gatekeepers had five of the seven Artifacts that could overthrow Lucifer, but had no leads on the remaining two.
    The demons couldn’t do much with the two should they find them before the Gatekeepers, but it would be better that they had none. They were already gaining strength; no need to give them any more of an edge in tipping the scales.
    “Charities, huh? That’s cool. Which ones?”
    “Domestic violence shelters, couple of orphanages.”
    “Wow. That’s…really impressive. Generous.”
    “Yeah, well, domestic violence pisses me off. Since I can’t give the bastards a taste of their own medicine, I do what I can to help the victims get away.” It was in her nature as a Gatekeeper and Shomrei warrior to protect innocents from danger. The Great One wove that into their DNA when He created them.
    Slade’s playful eyes dimmed for a brief second, then he plastered on a smile that didn’t quite fit his young face. It was a troubled smile, heavy with…sorrow? “You’re very surprising, Halena.”
    “Yeah, well, so are you, frat boy.” Not to mention comfortable. Warm. Intriguing.
    “You must travel to the States a lot, you know the slang so well.”
    Being alive more than eight centuries would do that. Not much else to do other than read and study to fill the nights of immortality. She spoke several languages to near perfection, including slang.
    She brushed her cheek with his, dying to know what the stubble felt like against her face. It was a perfect dichotomy of soft and prickly. A startling sensation trickled along her spine. “So, what usually happens now?”
    He searched her face with curious eyes. “What do you mean?”
    “Little one-night flings on your tromp across Europe. What happens after you get the girl on the dance floor and woo her with your frat-boy charm?”
    “I—no.”
    “It’s okay. I’m game.” She glided her hand over his shoulder, across the generous curve of his pec, then around his waist until she found his back pocket. Tightening her hold, she pressed against him. There was no hiding his body’s reaction, and she couldn’t wait to explore him.
    A rush of heat curled around her abdomen, anticipating the pleasure that was sure to come. The rush of getting lost in him, forgetting all her worries and troubles…
    She rested her forehead to his, reveling in the feel of the hard planes of his body and how she formed to him. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn’t read his thoughts. For a minute she felt like a normal woman out on the town, looking for some fun.
    It felt nice.
    “Family?” She nuzzled her nose in his dark locks. A wave of Irish Spring tickled her in deep, secret places. “Back in the States?”
    “Sis—um—yeah, a younger sister.”
    “Ah, yes. I pegged you for an older brother.” She nipped at his ear. God, she loved this flirting. It was so easy with him.
    “Let’s get a drink.”
    The slow song that had brought them close morphed into something completely opposite of what she’d wanted. Might be time for that drink after all.
    She diverted her attention to his delicious-looking lips. For that moment, the loud music dissolved into varying tones and pitches, and the rest of the people blurred out of focus. All she