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  “Yeah. I did.”

  Adina snorted. “You okay? It’s pretty ballsy of him to put his engagement announcement in the paper, considering you two aren’t even divorced yet.”

  “He wants to sign the papers.”

  “It’s about time, the mamzer!” Adina had never liked Kevin.

  Adina next launched into a long discussion about men and their failings. It was an old speech and required only that Tovah murmur in the right places.

  “But so, what about you?” Adina said at last. “How are you doing, aside from Kevin-the-bastard?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Adina snorted. “Really?”

  Tovah laughed at her sister’s blatant disbelief. “Yes, Dina. Really.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “No.” Tovah waited, knowing that answer wouldn’t suffice.

  “Just checking. You know, if you lived closer—”

  “I know.” It was an old argument. Tovah had been the one to move away from the family. To break away. And look what had happened to her?

  “We miss you, that’s all.” Adina sounded sincere, and though Tovah knew her sister wasn’t deliberately trying to make her feel guilty, she did anyway. “Maybe you’ll come home for Thanksgiving, no?”

  “Sure.” It was easier to agree than flat-out say no, and the answer satisfied Adina enough for her to end the call.

  The truth was, Tovah didn’t want to go home. Returning to her parents’ house, her childhood home, trying to ignore the way her mother glossed over her injuries and what she’d been through—it was too much. She loved her family better from afar, that was all. It was easier that way. For all of them.

  She pulled the paper closer, still folded open to the announcements page. Kevin Connelly and Jennifer Petrucci looked happy in their photo, and why shouldn’t they? Tovah wanted to cough out the senseless bitterness choking her. Her mother wanted to pretend nothing had happened. Her ex-husband wanted to put it all behind him.

  Why was she the only one who thought it all shouldn’t matter?

  “Hello, sweetheart. Looking for something in particular?”

  A voice like honey caressed Tovah from behind, and her stomach twisted in delight. She turned. She’d seen him tonight in many forms. A dark angel, a pan-pipe playing satyr, a rock star. He’d moved through the club, shifting subtly and blending into whichever group he passed. He’d been looking for something in particular himself.

  Now he was a tall man with blond hair and regular features. He inclined his head, his clothes shimmering and changing from the jeans and light T-shirt he’d been wearing into a pair of dark trousers and a form-fitting black sweater.

  “Like I said, sweetheart. Looking for something in particular?”

  Heat flushed her cheeks at his subtle response to the pull of her will. She could feel he was strong enough to shield himself from anything she projected, yet he’d responded. It was flattering. It was a little disconcerting.

  “I am, actually.”

  Tovah let her gaze travel over him. With her concentration divided by her attention on him, some of the club’s details should have gone blurry. They didn’t because he could juggle a conversation with her and an entire scene at the same time.

  That kind of power made her shiver. She thought of what Ben had accused her of and then put him firmly from her mind. Ben had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in getting to know her any better than he thought he already did.

  The blond hair darkened and the hairline shifted a bit higher on this new man’s forehead. His chest broadened, waist narrowed, legs grew longer. His features shifted with nary a blur, without hesitation.

  “Something like this, maybe?” His sly grin told her he knew what she wanted, perhaps better than she did.

  “Very nice.” The purr in her tone wasn’t out of place here in the Ephemeros, where she had confidence. Tovah reached a finger to stroke along the buttons of his shirt. “I like it.”

  She’d shaped others before, picking up on what sleepers wanted or needed and providing it for them. And of course before she’d learned about the power she held here she’d sent out her own desires for other shapers to fulfill. This was different, somehow. The push and pull of desire, his mingling with hers and making something new for both of them. He was so much stronger, all she had to do was send out the tiniest tendril of will and he picked up on it. Her body tensed in anticipation of what would happen next.

  “Do you?” Something flashed across the face he’d shaped to please her, an emotion so fleeting she couldn’t discern it. “Let’s go.”

  She was already tilting her head to accept his mouth. There was no need to really go anywhere. All they had to do was will it, and desire shaped their surroundings. His mouth closed on hers, hungry, and his hands pulled her close. His body was hot, the lines of it matching hers. His leg nudged hers apart and she gasped into his kiss as his thigh rocked against her.

  “Shape it,” he murmured against her lips.

  “I don’t know how,” she whispered, clinging to his shirt as the world swirled around them. “I can’t do both.”

  His deep laughter rumbled around them and the faint hint of walls hung with silk closed off around them. “Can’t fuck and shape at the same time?”

  He didn’t sound like he was mocking her. Tovah slid a hand beneath his shirt to find rock-hard abs and higher up, a chest smattered with hair. She wanted his shirt to open at the buttons, and it did.

  “See?” He dipped to mouth her neck, biting gently. Tovah arched herself to give him access. “You’ve got more skill than you realize. You just need practice.”

  It was the same thing Spider always said, and Ben, and Tovah fought a frown. “I know,” she murmured, winding her fingers into his hair. “I’ve only been able to shape for a few years.”

  Strong hands gripped her ass. “What happened?”

  Small details were appearing, one by one like stars in a twilit sky. A bed, covered in smooth sheets and clusters of pillows. A fireplace with crackling flames that danced with hues of blue and green. A table laden with plates of clustered grapes, wedges of cheese, glasses brimming with wine. This man was good. Very, very good.

  Tovah smoothed the shirt from his shoulders, preferring to do the work herself rather than willing it to go. A package unwrapped slowly was so much more fun to open.

  “I was in an accident,” she answered after a moment.

  “A bad one?”

  “Bad enough.” She stopped to look at him. He’d grown better looking, his features sharper and hinting at a famous movie star she admired. “How about you?”

  “Always been a shaper,” he breathed, and asked no more questions.

  Oh, how much easier it was without the courtship dance. Anyone who said women didn’t treat sex the way men did was full of shit, she thought as she pushed her partner back toward the bed he’d shaped for them. Right now, all she wanted was to touch and be touched.

  And it would be good, because she could shape it that way. She could have anything she wanted, a dozen lovers in as many minutes. They could screw upside down in the air, if they were talented enough. They could come a hundred times, over and over, without having to stop.

  It wasn’t real, after all. Her body was safe at home in bed, faithful pooch Max beside her. In a few hours the alarm would go off and she’d wake and live her life. For now, all she had to do was be.

  “Lie down,” she said. “I want to look at you.”

  Obediently, he lay back against the cushions, one leg cocked to give her an unobstructed view of his crotch. The dark pants tented as he put his hands behind his head. Watching her.

  “Gorgeous,” the man murmured.

  Warmth trickled through her. She felt beautiful. Tovah eased her palms down her stomach, only a little flatter here than in the waking world, and into the waist of her jeans. She undid the zipper and hooked her fingers to slide down the faded denim. Her hesitation was brief and unnecessary, but she had