Logan stopped in the hall, his eyes on Marie.

"Where to, kid?"

"Isn't this your show, sugar?"

"Heh. Nah. S'up to you. Willow said Naamah and Blaze in the East Chamber and a mixed couple in the West Chamber."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Mixed? Human and mutant, darlin'."

"Hmm…" Her face was thoughtful. "If you were me, what would you pick?"

He shrugged. "Depends on whatcha have a taste for."

"A taste for…?" her voice trailed off.

"Girls? Guys? Humans? Mutants? Vanilla or somethin' wilder?"

"Oh." She considered his words. "You got any wisdom to offer here, Mr. Regular Room?"

"Heh. Watch it." He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, considering what he wanted to say. And how to say it. "I've seen Naamah and Blaze before. Good show. Blaze is a little bit of a thing. Short dark hair, pale skin. Curvy. Naamah's tough and lean. Looks like some kinda demon, red skin, yellow eyes and black horns comin' up here." He touched his forehead and moved his hand up high over his head.

"Wow."

"Yeah. I dunno about Naamah, but Blaze is a little firebug. When she gets goin', blue and white flames engulf them both."

"Sounds… hot."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest at her obligatory joke. "Yep. But they're both girls." His voice dropped and he put his lips by her ear. "So if you wanna see..." Penetration. He didn't say it, but the pause implied it. "A man and a woman—"

"I do." The words were quiet, but emphatic. "With you."

There was that heat again, racing under his skin. Shit.

The urge to bite her was back too. He settled for rubbing his thumb over the bite on the back of her neck. It was red and raised now. It looked like a brand. He wondered if that's how it felt.

Her smile was positively predatory now.

Ah, fuck. He was going to enjoy this.

"You ready for that drink now, kid?"

"You bet, cowboy."

Jesus. She all but purred the words at him before she turned and walked away.

He followed her, enjoying how the black laces at the back of her corset swung in counterbalance to the sway of her hips. The look she tossed him over her shoulder said she could feel his eyes. And that she approved.

Her flare of bravado was fleeting. She hesitated in the archway as she took in the view through the indigo voile curtain.

Logan steadied her with a touch; a solid, warm palm on the small of her back. "Hey. It's just a buncha folks watchin' a show n'havin' a good time. S'nothin' more than that." She still hesitated. He leaned in and put his mouth by her ear. "You're safe with me, darlin'." Under his hand, he felt her body unspool as the tension bled out. He stroked her back with his knuckles, an instinctive response to her unconscious show of trust. She leaned into the caress, a trusting response of her own, given the danger that lay dormant in the knuckles at her back.

He parted the curtain and led her inside, enjoying the expressions ghosting over her features as her eyes swept the large, circular room. A raised dais dominated the center of the space. The wood was glossy and dark. Tables surrounded the platform, radiating out from the center. Semi-private, curtained booths ringed the periphery of the room. There was a sleek frosted glass bar by the archway. The clear shelves behind the counter were lit from below, showcasing the various bottles of spirits. It looked more like a piece of art than a working bar.

Everything was done in tones of deep midnight, rich indigo and vivid cobalt. It was like stepping into the night sky. Pinpoints of fiber optic lights twinkled overhead in the artfully painted ceiling; the milky way on a cloudless night. An eclectic mix of carefully chosen textures added to the effect; crushed velvet, the exotic sheen of silk, smooth navy leather, brushed stainless steel accents and cold, slick glass. Long purple shadows swallowed the patrons furthest from the dais. The light was brighter in the center of the room, illuminating a lone dancer slinking around a silver pole on the stage.

Logan guided Marie to an empty table. Tucking themselves away in a private booth and knocking back drinks while watching something erotic was a little too much like playing with fire, given his current state of mind. He knew she'd probably be more comfortable there, but even his predatory patience had limits. Marie didn't seem to notice. Her attention was on the dancer.

A soft-spoken woman dressed in simple black came to take their drink order. She almost blended into the background.

"Would you like a drink this evening, miss?"

The server had to ask twice before Marie heard her.

"Yes, please. Do you have any small batch, private label bourbon?"

"We do. Basil Hayden, Knob Creek, Four Roses and Woodford Reserve."

Logan wondered if she'd tried enough of them to have a preference. Basil was the most delicate, easiest for a novice to appreciate. He preferred a spicier bourbon with caramel notes and a long finish.

"Sugar?"

The touch of deference to his greater experience was even better than the idea of Marie with a sophisticated palate. She wanted his direction. Fuck all. Inexperience shouldn't be an aphrodisiac. He felt the Wolverine stir.

"Woodford."

Marie turned to the server. "The Woodford. A double, please."

"And for you, sir?"

"Same. Bring the bottle back with ya to the table, honey." Whatever they wound up watching and talking about later, he did didn't want an interruption every time one of them needed a refill. Not with his tolerance for alcohol being what it was. That probably wasn't the smartest decision, but then again he was past the point of giving a fuck tonight. Restraint had gone out the window about the same time Marie had turned and presented him with her sweet, round ass.

"Yes, sir." The server vanished as quietly as she'd arrived.

Their drinks appeared a few minutes later, along with a bottle. Logan was watching Marie. Marie was still watching the dancer on the dais. She was exotic. Long and lean with mocha skin and wild kinky hair that surrounded her face like cloud. Her lips were wide and full. Her eyes were an acidy yellow-green; the pupils a black vertical bar that gave her beautiful features a reptilian feel.

It was the way she moved that was so compelling. She slinked around the pole; her body seemed to be able to articulate in ways no human ever could — a sinuous slithering that was both sensual and disconcerting. She was strong and freakishly flexible as she coiled and writhed to the earthy beat. Her nude body was toned and hairless with small, firm breasts and puffy nipples. Her feet were bare. There was a little golden bell on her ankle that jingled softly as she moved.

"Wow." The nudity didn't even make Marie uncomfortable. It seemed secondary to the beauty of the dancer's undulating movements.

Logan smiled into his drink. That was a good sign. "Like it?"

"I sure do. She's gorgeous."

Well, now. He hadn't expected that, though he wondered how much of her answer had to do with the stiff drink she'd just put away and how much had to do with the men in her head. As she'd gotten older, he began to be more and more curious about how the people she'd absorbed had affected her developing sexual tastes and if maybe that wasn't at least part of the reason she'd been a bit of a late bloomer. He couldn't imagine what sifting through all of that must have been like for her. At times, he'd barely managed to keep his own shit together and he didn't even remember most of his life. Logan refilled both their glasses generously.

"Heh."

"Jubes has been after me to take a pole dancing class with her at the gym for months. I've been blowing her off because I couldn't imagine how shaking my butt in hooker heels would be a decent workout, but now I think I might give it a try. That girl looks like she could kick all our asses."

"Mmph. She could try."

The Wolverine's surly answer made her laugh. "You mean you wish she would."

The dancer was close to finishing her routine. She was breathless now and as she opened her mouth and panted a little, Marie could see her tongue was slender and forked.

"Darlin', how many men you know who'd put somethin' in a viper's mouth they wanted back?"

"I don't know... Isn't there like some kinda scale for that sort of thing? The danger factor on one axis inversely proportional to how hot someone is? That flexibility's even giving me ideas."

"Heh. Nah. The danger don't really factor in. Either you wanna or you don't. Simple as that."

"The danger doesn't factor in?" He could see why a girl with deadly skin might ask that question, however teasingly she delivered it. Logan's chest felt tight. There was hope all over how she asked that.

"Nope. Sometimes the danger just makes a hot woman hotter. But ain't really about the danger. It's about the woman. The rest is just details."

Logan wondered if he'd said too much. Probably, but he wasn't gonna lie to her. Not about that.

"So if you want her, you want her — no matter what?" Like if she had poison skin? she thought. Or was engaged? her mind added unpleasantly.

"Yep." He almost qualified that with, 'As long as she ain't a kid,' but that wasn't entirely truthful. Occasionally he omitted certain details, but he never flat-out lied to her. The truth was the Wolverine had wanted her at seventeen. It had nothing to do with her age and everything to do with the connection they'd had right from the beginning. He hadn't given a shit she was just a kid; a thought that was profoundly disturbing given his appetite for sex and violence. "Ain't it that way for you? You either wanna or you don't?"

"It's not that easy." She definitely had wanted to with Logan. Right from the beginning. She definitely hadn't wanted to with Remy, despite his considerable effort, buckets of charm and pretty-boy looks. She'd wanted to want to with Bobby. That's where it got confusing. "I'm not sure. I think sometimes what the heart wants and what the head wants are two different things."

"That's why I go with my gut. Less chance of fuckin' somethin' up that way."

Marie snorted into her drink. "Oh, please. You've made plenty of decisions with your head." He raised an eyebrow. "Just not the one on your shoulders..."

"Mmph." His face was his usual stoic mask, but above that hairy jaw, his eyes were dancing.

Around them the audience broke into applause as the dancer took a bow and blew a kiss to the crowd before leaving the platform.

"Elapidae, everyone! Wasn't she amazing?" An announcer had taken the stage with a cocky swagger and a smooth tongue. Behind him, the pole had retracted into the ceiling and the lights had changed from the cool green spotlight illuminating the stage to a more diffused central glow. "We've got a real treat for you tonight and an opening act bound to intrigue…"

Up next: Cherry Pie. Marie wears her innocence like a flag. Logan isn't the only interested party...