“Actually, that’s two maybes. Just ask him if he can do it, will ya?”

“I’ll ask, but he’ll refuse to help.” Hopefully. Ava’s step faltered a second time. She wanted McKell to refuse her? Just to retain the memory of his lips pressed against hers? How selfish was she? “He’s not happy with me at the moment.”

Noelle moaned. “What’d you do this time?”

“What makes you think I did something? I’m—”

“Earlier you said you hurt him. What’d you do, Ava?”

She had to say it, didn’t she? “I, uh, kind of tasered him.”

Another moan sounded, then a sigh. “Okay. This isn’t completely hopeless. While he’s writhing in agony, go buy him a sappy card. That always lets people know you’re almost sorry.”

“There you are,” McKell’s butterscotch voice said.

Ava yelped in surprise and nearly dropped the phone. She must have lost focus—again—because she realized he was now keeping pace beside her, as if nothing bad had transpired between them. He appeared fine. Pale, but fine.

Thank God. Relief speared her, stronger than any other emotion she’d experienced that day.

“I’ll be there,” she told Noelle, “no matter what. As for him, he’s not writhing, so there’s no need for the card. But he may or may not be with me.” She severed the connection before her friend could reply and pocketed the phone.

“Be where?” McKell asked.

“A bar.” She grabbed his wrist. Electric currents must have still raced underneath his skin, because the sizzle seeped into her. She turned him, so that they were heading in the other direction. His violet gaze remained locked on her, his lids at half-mast, his lips soft and … ready?

Heat bloomed in her cheeks. Was he thinking about drinking from her? She waited for him to try, breathless. Even waited for him to try and take a swing at her for bringing him down like a mangy animal. He did neither. Unfortunately.

Damn it. What was wrong with her, wanting him to make a play for her like that? Any play.

“Him who?” he demanded as they meandered down the street.

“You,” she answered honestly.

The tension in his shoulders eased. Tension she hadn’t noticed before. “So you weren’t wanting the aid of another man?”

“No.” She could barely handle McKell.

“Then I won’t spank you.”

McKell … spanking her … Someone get this man a paddle. “Gee. Thanks.” Good. There’d been no intrigue in her tone.

“You’re welcome. So where are we going? A bar, you said?”

“Not yet.” She pointed to a building across the street, even as she raced to the other side. He never fell behind, but he did grab her just before she hit the curb, jerking her to the right.

“What?” she demanded, surprised.

His expression was as tense as his body had been. “I didn’t want you walking into … nothing. Just be more careful.”

Walking into what? She glanced around, saw nothing out of the ordinary. Weird vampire.

“So we’re going to Starbucks?” he asked, giving her a little push forward. “How will a coffee help me?”

“You’re not the only one who gets thirsty.” She entered the building, and immediately cursed under her breath. Despite the late hour, there was a crowd. Was everyone in need of a pick-me-up?

She found a place at the end of the line, noting the way every female there watched McKell. Some stealthily, some with outright awe. Ava couldn’t blame them, but she did resent them. He’s mine, she wanted to shout. Which was absurd.

Had to be Noelle’s proclamation. You’re his woman. To his credit, he seemed completely oblivious to the sudden surge of estrogen and pheromones wafting his way.

“So. This bar,” he said.

Ripples of feminine pleasure accompanied his low, purring timbre.

“Right. The bar,” she replied. “I’m sorry, but hunting you-know-whats has to be put on hold.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, a slash of black against the creamy expanse of his skin. “Because I was a naughty boy?”

McKell … naughty … She gulped, her blood heating dangerously. He’d said that on purpose, the diabolical bastard. Now all she could think about was naked bodies straining together. As if you can blame him. You were thinking about that, anyway.

“No. Because I’m an agent, and I have a job to do.”

“Oh, well. I’ll go with you and help.”

Exactly what Noelle had wanted. Exactly what Ava had told her friend wouldn’t happen. Yet he’d offered easily, without being asked, without whining.

“You’re sick.” As she spoke, she watched him closely, gauging his reaction. His expression never changed. No fear, no upset. “You should be resting.”

“I’ll never be too sick to protect you.” Seductively uttered, as if they were discussing favorite sexual positions. Oh, yes. He was doing it on purpose, and she had every right to blame him. And punish him. With a severe tongue-lashing.

She tried to mask her shiver with a cough. “I think I’ve proven that I can take care of myself.”

“True. But even the best soldiers need backup upon occasion.”

Even the best soldiers, he’d said. Did he consider her a “best soldier?” Did he respect her skill? The pleasure she took from that was immeasurable. “You’d be willing to take a pyre-ray for me?” she asked, serious. “Because I’m heading into a den of vipers. Well, vipers to you. To me, they’re colleagues. They might shoot you first and ask questions later.”

“Vipers smipers. And yes, I would absolutely take a pyre-ray for you.” He was as serious as she had been, with no hint of sarcasm.

“Liar.” He had to be. But the pleasure she’d considered immeasurable? Just exploded into thousands of tiny stars, the intense glow of them probably seeping out of her skin.

“About your safety?” He shook his head, a dark lock of hair falling over his brow. “No.”

Her eyes widened, even as she reached up and smoothed the hair back into place. Still the connection sizzled between them. “But … why?”

Before he could answer, they reached the front of the line, and she ordered. Her mouth watered as her butterscotch mocha was prepared. And when the steaming cup was finally placed in her hands, she sipped, moaned. This was a rare treat, but she’d earned it. She hadn’t slept with McKell.

They walked outside, the cool, clean air once again enveloping them, and McKell sniffed, face slowly turning in her direction. “That coffee smells like you,” he muttered huskily. “Delicious.”

His voice was like a caress, hot and insistent, and her blood heated yet another degree. “I just tasered you. Why are you being so nice to me?” The moment she asked the question, the answer slapped her in the face. He’d realized she was his, too. He wanted, needed her blood and would do anything, even treat her like a cherished princess, to get it.

What a bastard.

“Perhaps I realized the error of my ways,” he said with a shrug.

She nearly snorted. There was no reason to let him know she knew about the vampire mating business, and a thousand reasons not to. Namely, power and manipulation. Still. She wanted to ask how things worked. Like, what would happen to him if she died? Like, could he sleep with anyone else, or would he want to rely on Ava for that, as well? Like, what would happen to him if she refused to feed him?

Would he … die?

She pursed her lips, not liking that thought any more than she had earlier. And what if they were wrong? What if she wasn’t his?

She’d give him another taste, she decided, and test his reaction. If they were right, if she was his, she would keep him addicted and craving what only she could give him—which in turn would keep him strong and (hopefully) malleable. And that was the one and only reason she was about to offer her vein.

Protesting too much?

Oh, shut up.

You’re talking to yourself, you know.

Yes, and I believe I told you to shut up. She stepped into the next dark alley she encountered, since she knew he liked those, stopped, finished her mocha, licked the cup clean, cursed that there was no more, then held out her arm. “You may have a sip,” she told him regally. “But only a sip. Okay, maybe a few gulps. But that’s it. Any more than that, and you’ll have to say good-bye to your balls.”

He looked at her wrist, where her pulse thumped wildly, and then her eyes. “Why are you offering?” he asked, clearly suspicious.

Time to lie her ass off. Except, the words emerged on a surprising sigh of truth. “We’re headed into a nest of AIR agents, like I told you, and I need you at your best. You seemed to handle my blood earlier, so I figured you could keep a little more down. Plus, you were being nice and that deserves a reward.”

Positive reinforcement. If she pretended to reward him for being nice, he would continue to be nice. And as an added benefit, the bite would hurt and she would stop craving it. Stop wanting to tear other women away from him.

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, gentle and warm, still sizzling. Finally, he was touching her again. She licked her lips; she just couldn’t help herself. But he didn’t swoop down and bite. Not yet. He stood there for several heartbeats of time, the wait making her ache. Eager.

“Why are we going into a nest of AIR vipers?” he asked.

“Scared? I understand.” Negative reinforcement would work, too, she supposed, then frowned. What? Did she now want him to go with her? You’ll protect him. Take a pyre-ray for him just as he claimed he’d do for you. Better that than splitting up. No telling when he’d return.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. “I’m scared of nothing. I’m merely curious.”

She tried not to smile. So easily manipulated, her vampire. She’d just assured he would go with her, no matter what. Now, he had to prove himself.

His gaze cut at her, the violet hard as an amethyst. “You suddenly smell of smugness. Which means you were baiting me, you tricky hussy.” His thumb traced a figure eight over her wrist, even while he pulled her closer, the jewel-rigidity in his eyes softening. His warm, minty breath trekked over her face. “But I don’t mind. I like it. Now. Why are we going into a nest of AIR vipers? You have yet to explain.”

Resistance faded. Fighting would have accomplished nothing, the ache inside her too strong. Once again she forgot everything but the vampire in front of her. What they could be doing, what they would soon do.

“Ava,” he entreated.

Focus, think. He’d asked a question. “There’s an alien queen who wants to destroy Earth,” she said. “She appeared in a bar a few blocks from here, and now all the patrons are being interrogated and I’m gonna help with that.”

“All right, then.” Finally, he lifted her wrist. His tongue emerged and licked over her skin, leaving a sheen of wet and more of that heat. “I’ll help, too. After.” Still he didn’t bite. Just hovered, waiting.

Every second that passed was more excruciating than the last, intensifying the ache. “Just do it.” She’d meant to snap at him—anything was better than this torturous anticipation—but the words were breathless, all her need shining through.

“You’ll learn, female, that it’s best not to rush this.” Slowly, so agonizingly slow, his fangs sank into her skin.

Oh, sweet heaven. Not once did she feel pain. His teeth must have produced a numbing drug, because all she felt was the erotic glide of his tongue, the intoxicating suction of his mouth. And now that he’d bitten her, the ache should have vanished. Only, the ache spread, becoming a far worse traitor to her common sense.

She’d wanted this, demanded it even. A mistake. A mistake she would pay for for the rest of her life.

Her knees weakened, and her bones liquefied, sending her deeper and deeper into his body until she was using him as her sole means of support. He allowed the connection, but didn’t take advantage. She wanted him to take advantage. Her nipples pearled and moisture wet her panties, both reducing her to a creature of sensation. A creature whose only purpose was achieving climax. She was shameless, willing to do anything.

If only he would nibble a path to her neck. If only he would spread her legs with his knee, rub his erection against her core, then spin her, press her against the brick, rub her harder, faster, creating a dizzying friction, then strip her, penetrate her, claim her.

She would force him if necessary. Yes. Yes. She would trace her hand along his chest, feel the bump of his scar, wonder how he’d gotten it, run her fingers along the waist of his pants, feel the tip of his erection, the bead of pre-come, and—

With a groan, he disengaged from her, severing all contact and moving out of touching range.

Her arm fell heavily to her side as she panted, fighting past the haze of longing to concentrate on him. “Wh—what’s wrong?” What she really wanted to say: Give me more.

“Had a … few gulps … already.” At least he was panting, too. That meant he was equally affected. Right? “Promised. No more.”

Anger sparked. Why hadn’t he ignored her demand? Why hadn’t he tried something sexual? Had he not liked her taste? Had he—

No, no, no. Ava cut through those thick threads of anger, snapping them apart, allowing other, saner emotions a path to travel. She couldn’t think like that. She’d wanted him, yes. More than she should have. But there’d been a purpose to this experiment, one she couldn’t forget.