Hunter's fingers are firm against the sides of my neck, her tattoos flexing, and her mouth against mine is a sigh, an inhale.

"You make me lose control," she whispers.

Shivers race up my veins. Delight.

"Good," I say against her swollen lips.

Cloudy breaks the truce━and yes, I had a silent truce with a dog━once we leave the rooftop. His vicious barks nip at my ankles.

"Shut up," I hiss to the dog. Hunter has walked ahead, and her chestnut hair disappears into the crowd. Where is she going?

Cloudy whines in response.

I stand on my tiptoes, trying to see above the heads of the market.

Cloudy's teeth sink into my leg.

"Damn it!" I swear, shaking my ankle. "Get off me!"

A hesitant female voice says, "Mind if I help?"

But my eyes finally land on Hunter. She's . . . talking to someone.

"Um," I say, distracted. "Yeah. Sure."

A woman comes into a view. Young━maybe 23 or 24. Her gold eyes gleam, flaring with distress, and she crouches down next to my demon. Dog.

"How old is he?" she asks.

"Um, six months," I say, still looking over the crowd. Hunter is talking to a tall man in a business suit. A purple business suit. Odd, for a man with such terrifying tattoos.

What is she doing? Why didn't she say anything to me?

The man seems sharp, furious. He speaks quickly, his eyes piercing. But then the crowd shifts, and I lose focus.

Somehow, the woman manages to detach Cloudy from my leg.

"I'm Pierce," she says.

And I realize I know her.

"You━you're a model," I exclaim. "The one on the cover of that Tokyo magazine."

She laughs, and even that is beautiful. "Yes, I guess you could say that. I'm from Japan."

She is tall and slim, her elegant body dressed in flowing black silk. Her ink hair is done up high, and her uptilted eyes are lined with gold to match her irises. Her full mouth purses, and I am suddenly astonished by the fact that I'm talking to a Japanese model.

"Um, wow," I say, forgetting briefly about Hunter. "What are you doing here?"

Her golden eyes flash. "Oh, just business."

Business . . . Maybe I'm crazy, but it sounds like a double meaning.

"Thanks anyway," I say, gesturing to the drooling fluffy white monster.

"Oh, no problem," she says. "I'm kind of a dog whisperer."

Why am I suddenly having trouble speaking? My tongue feels useless in my mouth, but I manage to get out, "Um, that's cool."

Damn it. Why do I sound like a high school girl?

"I hope I'll see you around, Jude," she says, and her tongue moistens her lips, ever so slightly. Then she turns, weaving through the crowd, until she is gone and I am left staring blankly at an old man selling crystal necklaces.

In less than a few minutes, Hunter has returned.

"Hey," she says. "Who was that?"

Who was it you were talking with? I want to ask, but I don't. I have the strangest feeling I wasn't supposed to see that.

"Um, just some model," I say.

Her eyes darken. "What was her name?"

I only laugh. "Jealousy is a cute look on you."

"I'm not━" But then I look down, noticing the pale orange flowers in her hand.

My jaw drops. "You got me . . . a bouquet."

Am I imagining it, or is there the faintest tinge of pink on her tan cheeks?

"Yeah," she says roughly. "I know orange is your favourite colour━but not the dark orange, the sunset orange."

And the flowers are the sunset orange. The pale, pastel orange that dances across the horizon in the evening.

A memento of the sunset we just watched.

My heart flutters in my chest. When she leans over to hand me the flowers, our hands brushing, I pull her to me. Kissing her deeply.

Surprise━and also something else━gleams in her eyes.

"Let's take this back down to the Underground, shall we," she whispers.

My toes curl in my boots. A thrill courses through me.

"Yes," I say. "I agree."

Cloudy whines, as if he knows what I'm thinking.

"Maybe you're not so bad after all," I say under my breath.

He snaps at my heel. Purring.

"Don't make me regret saying that," I warn.

Wherever I go, I think I'll find a way to take the stupid dog.

Hunter glances back at me, her shadowed eyes glittering with promise.

And even though I just saw her talking to a strange man in a violet business suit━even though there are only four days left until I have to leave━even though I think I am starting to fall for her, and after Friday, I might never see her again, I follow her.

A day and a half later, I am still thinking about Pierce.

I know what you're thinking━and no, it's not like that. It's . . . curiosity, mostly. A Japanese model in New Orleans. A dog whisperer.

While I am sitting with Mikayla at a game board, losing at a game of chess, I ask, "Do you know Pierce Nakamura?"

She instantly scowls. "Unfortunately."

This reaction surprises me. From what I saw of Pierce, she was sweet and a little shy. Definitely kind of sexy. But that must have been the model appeal.

"How do you know her?" I ask, moving my pawn up one space.

She knocks my pawn off the board. "She's my cousin."

My mouth falls open. "Your cousin is the Japanese model? The international sensation? The one who starred on the Tokyo Vogue for, like, three years in a row?"

"Don't remind me," she grunts. "And you seem to know an awful lot about━"

I lean towards her. "Come on, Mik. You have to spill."

"Trust me, it's better if you don't know. And why'd you ask, anyway?"

"I met her the other day."

Mikayla's eyes widen. "You . . . what?"

I open my mouth to keep talking, but Mikayla's face drains of all colour. "What?" I laugh. "Have you seen a ghost?"

"You don't understand," she whispers. "You know my brother, don't you? Why I'm here?"

I remember that Mikayla's brother joined the Japanese Mafia, the Yakuza, but once he died, she sought sanctuary here in New Orleans.

She continues, "There's something else I didn't tell you. When my brother joined, so did my cousin. He and my brother were best friends. But then Ethan died and later, so did my cousin, Lonnie . . ."

"What does that have to do with Pierce?"

Her face is pale. Her hands tremble as she moves her queen diagonally. "When Ethan died, I left Tokyo for good. But when Lonnie died . . . his sister━Pierce━ didn't leave, like me. She wanted in. She wanted revenge. So she joined them."

"She . . . joined the people who killed her brother?"

Mikayla nods grimly. "And she became the best assassin they'd ever had."

"Assassin?" I swallow.

Hunter saunters her over with feline grace, a single eyebrow raising as she surveys Mikayla. "Hey," she says, pulling up a chair so she can sit next to me. "What are we talking about?"

"The weather," Mikayla blurts out.

I give her a questioning glance, and she just shakes her head.

"Okay, then," Hunter says easily, examining our board.

Pierce is an assassin for the Yakuza. Damn it. Is there nowhere the Mafia doesn't have influence?

Maybe after all this is over, I'll move to Switzerland.

"You're losing," Hunter remarks to me.

I groan. "Did you expect better? I don't know how to play chess. I just move the pieces and hope I'm allowed to do that."

Mikayla smiles, but her hands are still shaking.

What does it mean that Pierce is here in New Orleans?

"Okay, I'm going to play with you. We'll be a team."

Mikayla shoots up. "Not fair! You can't━"

"As fair as playing an amateur?"

Mikayla sits back down, her face tightening in concentration.

Hunter whispers to me, "It's our turn. What would you move?"

I point to a random pawn. "That one."

"How about we try . . . this one?" She is leaning so close to me her lips are against my jaw. Hovering over my neck.

Distantly, I remember the hickey I have right there.

And now that Hunter's mouth lingers there, drawing attention to it, Mikayla's eyes widen.

While Hunter's focus is turned towards the board, she mouths, Are you━?

Heat prickles through my cheeks. I deliberately ignore her question.

Hunter guides my hand towards the knight. Her fingertips graze mine. "Over here," she breathes, and she uses me to slide the piece towards the center.

"Shit," Mikayla says, and I grin with pleasure.

"Look at that," Hunter whispers. "You're almost a pro."

"Playing against a Grandmaster isn't fair," Mikayla complains.

She's not a Grandmaster, I want to say━not out of anything malicious, but because I remember Mikayla telling me so just last week.

But Hunter doesn't deny it. Her arm is over top mine, her knuckles brushing against me, and after Mikayla makes her move, she guides me towards our queen.

"The queen?" I whisper. "Are you sure?"

"It's bold," Hunter says, and a chill warms my blood. "And she won't expect it."

And she doesn't. Once the queen is out and exposed, Mikayla backs down.

"Checkmate," she says in defeat.

"Look at that," Hunter breathes. "You won."

I roll my eyes. "You won. I still barely know how to play."

"How about I teach you?" A delicate caress of words against my throat.

"I think . . ." My eyes flick to Mikayla, and the realization is slowly dawning on her face. "I think I'd be a fast learner."

"I think we should take it nice and slow."

"Well, you're the master," I say. And then I blush and correct myself. "The Grandmaster. So lead the way."

And then I have no choice but to wonder. Is she a Grandmaster?

Just last week━or was it the one before that?━Mikayla told me Hunter was playing against a Grandmaster to become one.

Does that mean . . . at some point during the time I was here, Hunter became a Grandmaster?

Mikayla says goodbye with a wink, and she suddenly has somewhere to be.

"Is it true?" I blurt out. "Are you a Grandmaster?"

She draws her tongue over her lower lip. Tantalizing. "It's true. It happened just a few days ago."

And . . . you didn't tell me?

I almost say the words. I almost say them, before I realize it shouldn't affect me. Before I realize I'm the one who said friends with benefits.

And maybe it shouldn't bother me . . . but it does.

Damn it. I think I'm━I think I might be falling for her.

"Congratulations," I say, looking away.

Whatever she sees in my face━confusion, doubt━she isn't having any of it. Her hands are strong against my waist, and she pulls me into her lap.

Softly, I gasp, "Hunter."

And then I make up my mind, so fast I don't have time to question it.

She says, "About chess . . ."

But I say, "Let's do this. All in."

Her eyes flicker. I don't know what she's thinking, but then a slow grin pulls at her mouth. "All in?"

I want to know about her good news. I want to know about━about the exciting things in her life. I want to know when she's unhappy, or when she's dealing with problems. I want to . . . I want to know her.

Damn it.

This is stupid. This is━

"All in," I whisper, unable to stop myself.

>>>

So . . . what does this make Jude and Hunter?

From the moon and back,
Sarai