The shill gave his rehearsed spiel and the spotlights came up. Out walked three very unusual people and began dancing more or less in time with the music.

Lyris watched them carefully from the back of the club. The woman she dismissed immediately, obviously being of the wrong gender. It took a moment to decide which of the men was Romeo Hart. But she figured it out when he started throwing winks and kisses -- and the odd groin toss -- her way. Only a being with inhumanly keen eyes could have seen her through the gloom.

Going along with their agreed cover of a casual pickup, she tried to answer with winks and smiles, but elected to remain a safe distance away from the stage even when the other women began screaming and throwing their undies at the platform and calling out lewd suggestions. Lyris was pretty sure that Romeo's groin tosses were a lot more polished than her own would be and didn't see any need to embarrass herself with childish competition. Or to get in the way of flying panties.

Romeo's number finally came to end with him showing off by dropping his lasso over her head and then whipping it right back off again without the rope ever actually touching her. Lyris forced a broad smile of welcome as he sauntered down off the stage and strolled to her table. He dropped his hat almost on top of her beer, pulled out a chair, spun it about and thrust it between his legs before sitting. Lyris concluded that any man who could do that wearing chaps and little else was really not self-conscious about his anatomical differences. Still, she kept her eyes firmly on his face.

"Howdy, cowboy." She knew that she sounded stiff and tried to relax the tightness in her throat. It was a problem she'd been having all day. Her lungs were reluctant to breath in the goblin-tainted air.

"I'm Romeo Hart." He leaned closer to her, invading her space with his eerie gold eyes and the musky smell of perspiration. He added in a soft voice that had slight shadings of Texas: "I'm also Roman Hautecoeur. Jack told me you were coming."

Something warm and invisible brushed over her skin, making her nerves spark. She nodded and then answered reluctantly. "I'm Lyris Damsel."

"No way." He grinned at her suddenly. His smiled flashed like jack hopping out of his musical box, and was just as startling in such close quarters. "So when you get in trouble, I'll have a chance to rescue a Damsel in distress?"

"Ha-ha. I've heard it before, so spare me, okay? Anyway, I'm not going to need rescuing. I'm just doing research. It's perfectly safe." Lyris pulled back a little, hoping distance would let her nerves calm, but no such luck. The invisible something in the air continued to stroke her gently. She tried to glare, but it wasn't easy. She could almost hear Pop Goes The Weasel plinking away behind his shiny teeth and it made her want to smile and relax. And at least he didn't make any jokes about damselflies. Given the marking on her back, she found those even less amusing.