"Five hundred," she called out, in a voice trained to reach into the head of the most bored freshman in the back of a lecture hall. She threw one arm up and felt like a neon sign, in her red dress. Egyptia couldn't ignore her now.

No one could ignore her, as it turned out. The crowd turned and looked. Egyptia was forced to acknowledge the bid.

"We have five hundred from the fierce sister at the end of the runway. Can I get five twenty-five?"

Rosalind looked directly at Colleen, her stare as steady as a cobra's. That's right. I'm throwing five hundred dollars down in public for Taryn. If you're going to have something against me, then it's going to be worth it.

Colleen looked away, shuffling her bills. Rosalind nearly breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes daring Colleen to keep bidding. Maybe this was over; she could go collect her winnings.

"Five twenty-five!" It was the blond woman off to the left.

Egyptia lit up. She stalked the diameter of the stage, from Rosalind to the blond woman.

"I have five twenty-five! Come on gals, this is for charity. You know a night with the bad boy is worth a few lousy bills. Picture it..." Egyptia slid next to Taryn and draped herself on Taryn's arm. "You get to go out on the town; you got the handsomest boy in Buffalo escorting you. You gonna tell me that ain't worth a little more?"

"Do you have more money?" Ellie asked.

"I cleared out my savings account. I can keep going." Rosalind said, then motioned to Egyptia. "Five fifty."

"Oooh, we got us a bidding war! Honey, I know you want this; I can see it in your eyes. You got five seventy-five for me, don't you?" Egyptia asked, holding the mike out to the blond woman.

She nodded. "Five seventy-five."

"Six hundred," Rosalind said, looking at Egyptia.

The drag queen smiled so hard, her face looked like it might stretch that way permanently. "Good going, sister! What about you? Don't you tell me you're done? You got friends, don't you?"

The blond woman grabbed the woman standing next to her and conducted a swift negotiation. "Six fifty," she said, looking back up.

"Six seventy-five!" Ellie yelled, and Rosalind looked at her. "For you, of course."

"Seven hundred." The voice came from the right side of the stage, a cool, measured voice that carried without effort. Egyptia, Rosalind, and the blond woman all looked simultaneously.

The speaker was a woman in a yellow silk shirt and black pants. She wore her hair in a knot at the back of her neck. It accentuated the proud carriage of her head. She looked, Rosalind thought, the way dancers and ch.o.r.eographers look, in complete control of every muscle in their body. She was gorgeous, and Rosalind felt her stomach drop.

Egyptia shook her head. "We have seven hundred from the sister on the right. Can I get seven twenty-five?"

"Say something! You have to bid," Ellie hissed in Rosalind's ear. Rosalind looked at the new bidder with a sense of wonderment and a sense of recognition. Where had she met this woman before? She had a definite reaction to this woman. It could be because she was bidding on Taryn. Yes, probably that. The recognition threw her for a moment, making the silence following Egyptia's question seem much longer.

"Ros?" Ellie asked.

Rosalind tore her eyes away from the new bidder and looked toward the stage. Taryn was staring at her, eyes wide. It brought her back to earth. There was a business transaction to be handled.

"Seven fifty," Rosalind called out, to a relieved Egyptia. It was obvious that the drag queen could feel Taryn's nervousness and knew she'd get killed for letting someone else purchase her for the night. Taryn was practically vibrating; the energy coming off her was making Egyptia back away. This had gone far enough in the name of charity; now it was starting to turn. Egyptia held up the mike.

"We got seven fifty. Going once, going twice-"

"Eight hundred."

Egyptia stopped, midsentence. "Excuse me?"

The woman simply folded her arms and waited, knowing that the drag queen had heard her. She had the distinct air of a woman who need not repeat herself.

"You girls sure love your charity! We got eight. Can I get eight twenty-five?" Egyptia asked, almost pleading with Rosalind.

"Eight fifty," Rosalind said firmly.

Egyptia sighed in relief. "Eight fifty. Going once, going-"

"Nine hundred" came the bid, from the right of the stage. Egyptia glanced at Rosalind, to see if she was able to keep going.

"Nine fifty," Rosalind said, looking at Taryn. She had the money. It would be a stretch, but she could do it. What mattered was the look on Taryn's face when she upped her bid without hesitating. That look, from those eyes, was worth going broke for.

"Nine seventy-five." The woman wasn't giving up. The crowd watched the exchange in silence, heads darting back and forth like a tennis match.

Rosalind prepared to throw everything she had into the ring, to ask Joe and Ellie and Laurel for all their cash. Her mother, once, had told her that some things are worth begging, borrowing, or stealing to have. She had never said what those things were, but in that moment, Rosalind knew.

"One thousand." Rosalind's voice was steady, her shoulders back, her head up. She was letting everyone in the room know, she was throwing it all on the line for Taryn.

The woman to the right of the stage drew in breath to counter bid. Rosalind could see that Egyptia knew she was about to be in so very much trouble and didn't know how to prevent it.

Taryn moved. She threw her suit coat back, as a gunfighter throws back her duster. With her right hand she reached back and drew forth her wallet. She held up that square of black leather so no one in the room could mistake her gesture. Then she threw it to Rosalind.

It didn't take as long as it seemed for the wallet to pa.s.s through the air, for Rosalind to reach out and snag it. But the weight of every eye in the crowd slowed its descent. When Rosalind's hand closed on Taryn's wallet, silence fell. The new bidder recognized the gesture and let her indrawn breath out without sound. Territory was recognized. Ground was given. The bid stood at one thousand.

Egyptia knew better than to let it rest. "Going once, twice, sold! To the fierce sister in the red dress. You can come backstage and meet your date."

Taryn ignored Egyptia and stalked to the end of the runway in three swift strides. The crowd gave back, knowing they were witnessing something remarkable. It was magnificent, the way she paused on the lip of the stage and extended her hand to the woman in the bloodred dress.

Rosalind put her hand in Taryn's and was lifted up onto the runway, Taryn catching her around the waist with one strong arm. Taryn set Rosalind on her feet, but left the arm around her waist. Her eyes locked with Rosalind's, blocking out the room, the lights, the crowd. She looked ready to drown in her lover's gaze, reckless and mad, poised on the edge of a cliff, listening for a single spoken word to lure her back.

Rosalind felt the crowd, the lights, the weight of the eyes on her and on her lover. The public declarations had been made now, in both their worlds. She knew this and knew that there would be fallout from it.

But the blue eyes worshipping her gave her the world in a single, careless gesture, open and vibrating with need. So Rosalind did the only thing there was left to do. There, on stage, before the eyes of friends and enemies, new allies and former lovers, she kissed her drag king. She felt Taryn's arms close around her, and the feeling of unease she'd carried since meeting with Dr. Grey evaporated. The heat of the body in her arms banished the tendrils of fear.

Egyptia stood behind them, hands on her hips. "This is your date, Taryn. Taryn, this is Rosalind," she said dryly.

It was very different kissing Taryn while she wore a mustache and beard. The hair was rough against her skin. Rosalind pulled back, her arms wound around the drag king's neck.

"Lovely to meet you. Karen, was it?"

Taryn grinned, a flash of white teeth through the black goatee. "Yeah, Roseanne."

"Enough. Take it backstage. I'll be accused of fixing the auction." Egyptia pushed Taryn toward the curtain.

A howl came from the audience, followed by more, until the room rang with the sound of a wolf pack. Taryn threw them a smile over her shoulder, generous with all the world, now that her arm was firmly around Rosalind.

The curtain fell closed behind them, leaving them alone in a twilight s.p.a.ce pierced by spears of pale yellow light. Taryn pulled Rosalind against her immediately, bending her head down.

"I was hoping you'd make it in time," she whispered, inches from Rosalind's skin, her breath caressing her lover's face.

"And miss bidding on the most devastatingly handsome boy in Buffalo? I'd have to be crazy. You had a roomful of women just panting to buy you for the night." Rosalind's hands moved to Taryn's shoulders, down her arms, feeling their shape through the cloth.

"There was only one that mattered to me," Taryn said, her voice rippling with restrained emotion.

"You managed to let everyone know that, without saying a word. That was clever, but I think I heard a few hearts breaking."

"Are you sorry?"

"No. I almost couldn't believe it when you tossed me your wallet. It was like seeing you at Marcella's, larger than life. It was hard to remember that you were...my lover. I don't think I've said that to you before," Rosalind said, looking up at her face. What she saw there gave her pause.

There was a look of fear on Taryn's face, badly masked. The pain was so raw, it hurt Rosalind to see it, and to see it in Taryn.

"Baby, what is it?" she asked, her heart pushing against her ribs.

"I...you didn't. Say that to me before."

Rosalind smoothed down the lapels of Taryn's coat, her expression softening. "I had a hard day today, baby. I came up against something I wasn't ready to face."

The sudden tightening of Taryn's face was evidence of her fear. Rosalind lay the palm of her hand against her jaw until she felt it relax. "Hear me out, okay?"

Taryn nodded stiffly.

"I didn't know if I was going to make it tonight. The head of my department called me in. Someone issued a complaint against me and accused me of sleeping with a student."

Taryn's eyes flew wide. "What?"

"I think it was...someone who doesn't like my spending time with you and thought they could use your age against me. I got that impression from Dr. Grey. He not so subtly told me to straighten up and fly right, and to do it publicly."

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Taryn said, and bared her teeth. "Can he do that?"

"Yes and no. It's not legal, but it wasn't a formal complaint, so he can claim it was a friendly conversation. The advice was to lay low, not give any grounds for rumors to start," Rosalind said, and shook her head.

Taryn's face changed, cooling like wax. "So the auction-"

"Wasn't what Dr. Grey had in mind when he 'advised' me."

Taryn hadn't moved, but Rosalind felt her retreat, felt a distance open between them. She couldn't leave Taryn out there alone in her thoughts. She might not decide to come back.

"I drove over to Delaware Park, to the spot you showed me on our first date. I'm not sure what I was looking for. I called Ellie, and she reminded me of what was important."

Taryn swallowed. "And what would that be?"

"What you love. What makes you wake up at night crying. What you can't live without." Rosalind's smile was tender, offering herself to Taryn. "You."

Tears came to Taryn's eyes. She fought them, blinking them back. "You have a good memory for words."

"There's a lot of things I could have done. I went home and put on the reddest dress I owned, cleaned out my savings account, and came here, to win my boy for the night. I've never wanted much out of life, Taryn. But tonight, I wanted more than anything to be a woman who wouldn't let her lover down."

"You didn't let me down," Taryn almost growled, around the stone in her throat. "I know I'm not an easy person to be with. I carry some baggage, you know? People won't always be as cool as Eric was. Now your job might be on the line. I guess all I'm saying is, if you need to bail, I understand." Taryn's head went up, like a dog expecting a blow.

"Oh, honey." Tears that she didn't know were there spilled from Rosalind's eyes. "I could spend the rest of my life trying to forget you, and that's all I'd be doing, trying. You're in my blood."

"You're not bailing?" Taryn asked, eyes narrow.

"I'm not bailing," Rosalind affirmed, and was crushed in an immediate hug. Taryn's lips were close to her ear.

"Good. I wasn't really cool about letting you go." Taryn relaxed her fierce hold just enough to kiss Rosalind. Rosalind laughed against her open mouth. "What?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Your mustache tickles."

"Oh," Taryn said, sheepish. "I could take it off."

"What's it made of? It looks real." Rosalind touched it.

"Spirit gum and my hair. I save it when I go to the barber, for full drag."

"I love kissing you. I never pictured kissing you when you had a dark mustache. It seems a little distant. You go take it off and meet me out front."

"You want me to take this off?" Taryn asked, indicating her suit.

"No, you look gorgeous. Just the beard. Go on. I have some explaining to do, I'm sure."

Taryn started to walk away, and Rosalind watched, enjoying the lope of her long legs. She gave in to her impulse and reached out, slapping her on the a.s.s. Taryn gave her a surprised look over her shoulder.

"Just checking the merchandise," Rosalind said, and smirked.

Taryn looked like she was about to object, then smiled. She sauntered off, starting to sing.

Rosalind was humming when she walked back into the crowd. There was a spring in her step, a sense of triumph all out of proportion to winning Taryn for a night. She felt like she'd climbed Everest without gear, clawing her way up with naked hands. But Everest hadn't been all that hard, in the end, and the view from the top was more sublime than anyone had ever told her.

Egyptia had started the bidding again, and the men in the crowd were surrounding the runway. Rosalind glanced off to the doorway and saw Joe, standing with his back to the dark wood frame, guarding the pa.s.sageway. It was a condition of the light, a reflection from the stage, the positioning between one room and the next, but he looked different to her. For the first time, Joe looked weary. The light made his green shirt look like a patch of a storm-ridden sky; his arms hung down loosely from his shoulders. His head was resting back against the wood, arching his neck, making him look like a sacrifice waiting for the knife. Rosalind stopped in the press of the crowd.

Something whispered in his ear, he turned his head right toward her, a restrained smile offered as a greeting. He took up a gla.s.s of red wine from the floor and handed it to her, the gesture carrying some of the easy grace that marked him.

"She seemed happy to see you," he said, reaching for his beer. "Your friend said to meet her by the bar. Listen, Rhea called, she's feeling tired tonight, but she insisted that I invite you to the house tomorrow night. We're having a full moon circle, and it's important that you be there."

"Joe, are you all right?"

"You'll be there tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring the question.

"Of course. What's going on?"

A look of annoyance crossed his face, something Rosalind had never seen. His brows drew down, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "I'm going, d.a.m.n it! Stop crowding," he said, his head to the side. He turned back to Rosalind. "Sorry. There's quite a mob clamoring to get in tonight, and they all want to talk to you."

Rosalind looked into his eyes and saw the effort at control, like a man blocking constant pain. "You see things, the way Rhea does," she said, letting that realization come over her.

"Different. Rhea has a narrow focus. She can see specific things for specific people. She cultivates it. I get flashes, when I don't look for them. Never did me any good, so I stopped listening. But tonight, it's like somebody put a lightning rod into my head," he said ruefully, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Ros, I'm not much good at this. But we have to talk. It's important."