She hated daylight. No matter how long she got to walk the earth, that was one thing not likely to change. It wasn't harmful, just... embarrassing. It made her feel like people could see through her. Or rather,<em>her</em>, herself.<br/><br/>Of course, that was not the case. Nobody had run away from her screaming. But she still felt kind of vulnerable. And that was why the Night Parade was the most suitable place for her to blend in... and hunt.<br/><br/>Lasciel, as usual, had done her daily practice in the open, under the main tent. There were no sequinned outfits or breathtaking props in sight - no snakes, blades or fire. But the Parade's most exotic dancer was no less exotic for that. In black harem pants and crop top, arms, feet and midriff bare, a mass of fine ebony braids lashing around her face... No wonder she always had spectators gawking at her; the same ones who would return in the evening to see her perform, their souls reaching out to her through their eyes.<br/><br/>The one who'd chatted her up after practice had the look of a lager lout. What he really wanted was more than obvious, and he could hardly believe his luck, too impatient even to get to her trailer. Lasciel wondered briefly who would miss him. His soul was rather stunted, but it would have to do. She had more need for it than he ever would.