the streets in a sexy gown was rare and intoxicating. Usually when I ventured outside Phoenix House I was dressed primly and accompanied by several other sisters. But tonight was different. Tonight I would seek the touch of an eager partner. He would lick my nipples and explore my secret openings. I would happily return the favor. My step quickened with the urgency of my moistening center. Most of the other sisters would be headed downtown to the clubs and bars which would be pulsing with the night’s unique excitement. Halloween in the mortal world meant the chance to become something else. For us it was the same. I was not a proper witch this night. I was a lusty woman aching to be satisfied. The streets were dark and forlorn, flanked by abandoned buildings. This had been a great center of manufacturing during a different era of prosperity. Few people walked these parts, even on Halloween night. The sudden crash of breaking glass startled me. My hand flew to the pendant I usually wore around my neck but it had been left behind at Phoenix House. Another rule of Halloween night: No Witchcraft. I looked down black alleys, unsure whether anyone was looking back at me. I was not even convinced I was heading the right way. Each step I took was all due to a conversation overhead in a café a few weeks earlier. I estimated they were college girls, young and brightly turned out. They were speaking low but a silent chant allowed me to hear words while Katie sat across from me engrossed in her Kindle. One of the girls was talking excitedly about a wild underground club she had visited over the weekend. She shifted her eyes around to ensure no one was paying attention, then breathed, “He fingered me right there on the dance floor. It was unfucking believable. Chicks had their tits hanging out. One girl was even giving a full blow job. We found the men’s room and he fucked me right there against the door.” Her friend gasped and whispered a question but she shook her head. “No, I never even knew his name. Place was called Skylight, way up Van Buren. I gotta go back there.” I thought about her words that night and touched myself as the inhabitants of Phoenix House breathed quietly around me. The thought of such a place had me salivating. I was so lost in my own thoughts I did not hear the car until it was beside me. The lights were off but I could make out the dim figure of a man. He leaned out of the car. “Get in.” I had sworn I would not take the first stranger but the shallow moonlight had allowed me enough of a glimpse of the man that I figured I could chance a few moments to see if he was what I was looking for after all. His hair was dark and his brow deep. He was perhaps a few years older than I. He wore a button up shirt which was rolled back to the elbows, as if he had just come from a long day at the office. He leaned back into his seat, waiting. I wondered what sort of man would issue commands to strange women who walked alone on a dark city street. He didn’t look at me. “Aren’t you coming?” The low timber of his voice vibrated in my depths. All the long months of fleshly denial had caught up to me. All it took was a man ordering me into his car and I wanted him. I opened the door and sunk into the soft seat, smelling leather and smoke. He lit a cigarette, and held the pack out to me. “Want one?” I did not smoke, but I took one. He lit both cigarettes and inhaled deeply. I tried to do the same and coughed furiously. He smiled thinly. “You don’t smoke.” I tried to breath. “No.” Yet, the sensual feel of the cigarette in my hand and the heady aura of the smoke gave me courage to inhale again, more shallowly. He started the car. “My name is Draco. We’ll go to my place.” I stared at him. He was even more finely built than I thought. I wanted to touch the muscled contours his shirt could not hide. I wanted his large hands as my body. And even as I realized he seemed to take me for