Chapter 2

It took him almost an hour of wriggling through the costumed crowd, into one huge ballroom and out again, across a patio and a courtyard, and through more rooms before he finally located Mendoza. Once there, Ren halted in the doorway to study his prey. The Latino, apparently outfitted to look like Zorro in black, enhanced with conchos, rhinestones, and silver braid, sprawled in a huge gilded chair on a dais at one end of the room. A bevy of scantily dressed beauties clustered around him, seeming to vie for a few seconds of his total attention.

They were all drop dead gorgeous. Even if some of them might be in drag, Ren had to admit he couldn’t tell. He knew some female impersonators perfected their look until they could fool even the most discerning. By comparison, his disguise was almost clumsy. Still, he knew he presented a striking sight. He held a pose in the open doorway, waiting to see if Mendoza would notice him.

He didn’t have to wait long. From across the room, he felt the searing impact of the Patron’s ebony eyes. The man had power; whether part of it was magic-based he could not yet tell, but there was both magnetic and kinetic energy in that fierce gaze. Mendoza turned to speak to a man who hovered close behind the patron’s throne-like seat while staying clear of the shifting mass of luscious women. The man made a fast transit of the room, almost as if he teleported, although Ren knew he did not. Still, in an instant, he appeared at Ren’s side.

“You’re new,” he said, speaking in a low, monotone voice, one that would not carry far from their immediate location.

Ren nodded. “True. I haven’t been here before, but I had assurance I’d be welcome.”

When he met the slender dark man’s gaze, he had to stifle the jolt that shot through him. This man had even more power in his eyes than Mendoza! Dressed in stark flat black like a ninja or an outlaw, the stranger was not big, a bit shorter than Ren in his high-heeled boots, which made him perhaps five-ten at the most, and lean of build. He wore his night-dark hair drawn back in a severe queue, so tight it almost slanted his eyes. They were gray eyes, a steely hard and cold hue like icy water…eyes both bottomless and strangely opaque.

“Come with me. El Patronwants to meet you. May I have a name so I can introduce you?”

“Rena Murphy.”

The stranger arched one eyebrow and smiled, a mere twist of mobile lips that made his narrow moustache undulate. “Very good, Ms. Murphy. Follow me.”

“And you are?”

“Many of the folks here call me Dos Sombras—it seems to have some idiomatic meaning I’ve yet to sort out. Or simply El Sombra.If you have need of me, just ask for El Sombra.”

“Two shadows? That’s a curious appellation. And El Sombrais not correct; elis masculine and sombrafeminine.”

The man darted a swift glance at Ren. “So you speak Spanish, Ms. Murphy? That’s the idea, you see—a dichotomy, a conflict, even a mixture of both sexes embodied in one persona. A bit like yourself, perhaps?”

He smiled again, a smile nowhere near reaching his eyes. They stayed as chill and flat as water on the verge of freezing. Ren restrained the reflexive shiver kindled by the icy glance. What did this stranger see when looking at him? This was a man to watch, perhaps one to fear or at least to handle with caution…

A bad enemy and likely an equally dangerous friend. Unbidden, that assessment skittered through his mind, yet some intuition told him they would be friends. He wasn’t sure if the notion comforted or disturbed him.

Walking steadily now he’d come to a truce with his heels, he followed the lithe man, dodging through the crowd to cross the room. This transit seemed slower than the other man had made alone. Still, they soon approached Mendoza.

The patronlooked up at them. A leering smile painted itself across his broad face. “Aye, que bonita.You must be new for I surely would recall had I met you before, senorita.How am I so blessed to have you grace my humble abode?”

Ren answered with a smile of his own, a toothy smile copied from the top models he’d observed in developing his disguise. “I’ve heard El PatronMendoza throws wonderful parties, that the food and drink are unsurpassed, that any recreational drug one might desire can be had and that the company is always delightful. How could I stay away from such enticements?”

“Tell me your name, queridisima.”

“Rena Murphy, recently of California.”

“Ah, a model or a starlet perhaps?”

Ren shook his head making the long, rippling waves of his wig shimmer. “Nothing so glamorous. Just a working girl, you might say. Sometimes in an office, a club, wherever…Right now I’m between jobs.”

“Then I’m sure I can find a place for you here. You’re overdressed, though, mi corazon.Underneath that cape I am sure you hide rare beauty and sexy attributes, no?”

Ren shrugged delicately, just a tiny twitch of one shoulder. “All of us have the same equipment, patron,two of this and one of that, you know.”

Mendoza laughed. “Gorgeous and a sly sense of humor as well. Yes, I’m sure I have a place for you here, Rena. I may call you Rena, may I not?”

Ren gave a gracious nod, not quite a bow. “Of course. I’m totally at your service.”

Someone else approached and took Mendoza’s attention for a breath. Ren let his gaze slide to Sombra. The other man watched the byplay, a trace of humor dancing in his eyes. He caught Ren’s glance and gave him a slight smile, as if they shared a private joke. Before Mendoza could notice, Ren turned his full attention back to the corpulent man. He twitched the cape just enough to reveal the sleek boot visible through one high slit in his skirt. Above the top of the boot, a tiny trace of thigh winked and vanished.