“Oh, that. I know what happened.” Noelle waved a dismissive hand through the air, then frowned as she wiggled her fingers. “He—Oh, no. No, no, no. I have seven fingers. How did I get two extra?”

“You can get them surgically removed.” God, she was smart. “Now, what were you saying about McKell?”

“I don’t remember.” Noelle tapped a nail against her chin, brightened. “Oh, yeah. He followed Johnny. Probably to kill him.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help it. She grinned again. She’d imagined three likely scenarios for his departure. One, meeting a food-slave-slash-lover. Two, needing space. From Ava. And three, meeting a food-slave-slash-lover.

She frowned. Her math might be a little off. Oh, well. “A man defending my honor. How cool is that?”

“Five bucks says McKell cuts off Johnny’s penis.”

“Ten says he’ll remove the man’s heart.” A girl could hope, anyway.

Sleeping with Johnny was one of the stupidest things she’d ever done. But she’d been feeling lonely, had drunk just a little too much, and well, she’d thought she was crawling into bed with his brother, Jeremy. He was stacked, just like she preferred. Just like McKell.

McKell. Her McKell.

Yeah, muscles were still her weakness.

“I’m never drinking again,” she said, then lifted the bottle of Jack she’d brought with her and drained the rest of the contents.

“Me, either.” Noelle confiscated the bottle, realized there was nothing left, and licked the rim. “Dallas was looking pretty hot, huh?”

“I guess.” To be honest, Ava had only been able to see McKell. That dark hair, those violet eyes. The way he kept stopping time to punch Johnny in the nose. What a hero.

“So was Hector. Looking hot, I mean. But he’s pretty much a bastard, so I’m not sure I’ll go for it.”

Hector was muscled, and before McKell, Ava had actually sized him up and called dibs. Not that she’d ever done anything about it. “He’s yours, if you want him.”

“Concentrating on McKell?”

“No. He’s not a potential lover.” Except that he is.

“Why? He’s off the must-kill list. I mean, Mia wouldn’t have let him stay in the bar if he was still on it. So he’s no longer your enemy. He’s your helpmate.”

“Helpmate? Do you hear how ridiculous you sound? But think about it. If I sleep with him, I’ll no longer be regarded as a competent agent. I’ll just be the girl who has to sleep with men to get them to cooperate. You heard Johnny, right? ‘How’d she get the vampire to come?’” she mocked.

The car stopped at an intersection. Built-in sensors also knew when to slow down, when to speed up, and when to halt abruptly if something unexpected flew in the way.

Noelle pressed a few buttons, forcing the car to move forward despite the red light. That option was not something all cars possessed. “Alls I’m saying is that you’re too worried about what other people think of you. You always have been. McKell likes you, and you like him. Go for it. Everyone else can go nuck themselves. Wait. Is that the right word?”

She couldn’t refute Noelle’s claim. She was worried about what other people thought; she hated herself for it, but couldn’t change how she felt. Too many years of being called “trash” had left her raw and scarred inside. Even though she often professed to be unaffected. Even to herself.

Alcohol brought out the honesty in her, she supposed.

“And Ava? News flash. The vampire slept at your place and came with you to a job. People already think you’re sleeping with him.”

She scrubbed both hands down her face. Without her arms holding her steady against the seat, she banged into the window when the car turned. “Ouch.” Frowning, she rubbed her now-stinging temple. “No one knows he slept at my place but you.”

“Like I can keep a juicy bit of gossip like that to myself.”

Ava rolled her eyes, then moaned. Mistake! Another wave of dizziness slammed her, caused her stomach to do the lurching thing. “You’d never tell. You love me too much.”

“Oh! That brings me to the second thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

The car slowed and angled toward the curb on their right. Ava saw her building. Run-down, with peeling paint and soot-stained glass for windows, rather than the shield-armor higher-end apartments used.

“Tell me before I go upstairs and puke my guts out,” she said.

“My mom’s decided to host a”—Noelle gagged—“cocktail party. You have to come.”

Ava was shaking her head—and moaning again—before the last word had left her friend’s mouth. “No. Your mom hates me, and I hate her.”

“Please. I can’t do it without you, and I have to do it.”

Please. The plea singed her ears. As if she could say no now. Noelle never begged. “Fine. But you’ll owe me.”

“Anything!”

“You can start by doing your own laundry.”

“Hell, no.” Noelle shook her head, then moaned louder than Ava had. “Anything but that.”

Someone tall and wonderfully roped with sinew and muscle unfolded from the shadows of the building, stepping into the light seeping from the streetlamps, revealing black hair and glowing purple eyes, and snagging Ava’s undivided attention. McKell, she realized, heart suddenly careening.

He was here.

He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Darling caveman. “I’m afraid the laundry is nonnegotiable. Oh, and we’ll discuss the rest of your new duties tomorrow.” If she remembered this conversation. “Open,” she said to the door, and the block instantly obeyed.

“Duties? As in more than one?” Noelle screeched.

Ava emerged. “Close,” she said to the car, ignoring her friend. The door clicked shut, muffling any reply Noelle might have made. Gaze drilling into an obviously fuming McKell, she approached. And only fell once. Okay, twice.

When she reached him, he didn’t kiss her hello as was proper. He sniffed the air, deepened his scowl, and hefted her over his shoulder fireman-style to carry her inside.

Twelve

Where’d you go so fast earlier that you couldn’t even kiss a girl good-bye?” Ava asked McKell when he finally set her on her feet. Took a moment, but her head finally cleared, and she looked around without losing her dinner—that entire bottle of Jack.

She was at her front door, she realized. Why that was a surprise, she didn’t know. She’d been outside her building just a few minutes ago, and McKell had carried her through the doors, up the elevator, and down the hall. Maybe. The night’s events were beginning to blur together.

What she did know? The vampire owed her a kiss.

Kiss, kiss, kiss. Her mind kept snagging on that one word. That must mean she needed one. Desperately. Therefore, once she and McKell reached the privacy of her living room, she’d take one.

Decided, she placed her hand on the ID box. Blue lights scanned her prints, and a few seconds later, her door unlocked, opened.

“Before I answer your question,” McKell said, catching her by the waist and holding her in place, “you’re going to program my ID into that thing, so that I can come and go as I please.”

What an excellent idea. Then he could kiss her anytime she wanted.

She lifted his free hand—no reason to disturb the warm, insistent arm still wrapped around her—and pressed his fingers into the pad. After she entered the code, another blue light erupted, this one memorizing. A few seconds, that was all that was needed.

Eager to collect her prize, she turned to face him. “Now …”

“That’s it?” he asked, scowling as he lowered his arm.

“Mmm-hmm.”

McKell released her and barreled past her. Without kissing her. “Where did you go after I took off?” he demanded.

Her disappointment finally managed to rally her common sense, reminding her of three things. She wasn’t a slave to her hormones, he’d promised her an answer but hadn’t delivered, and he should not have waited outside for her, as if they were a couple and he had every right to do so.

Time to instruct him. She spun on her heel and followed him inside. “I stayed at the bar.” Oops. She hadn’t meant to answer him.

“Drinking,” he snarled, sprawling on her couch. And he was holding the whip he’d brought the first time he’d come here, running the length through his fingers.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She fell into the chair across from him and moaned. World … spinning again … And the stupid spinning caused her stomach to do that stupid churning thing.

“Too much alcohol can kill humans, you know.”

“I haven’t had too much.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’ve had a lot more on many occasions and—this next part might come as a shock, so brace yourself—I’m still alive.” Maybe.

He was far from amused. “You should see how green you are. In fact, you’re probably dying right now. And if you die, you will sorely upset my plans for you.”

“Plans that involve kissing me?” At the thought, her stomach settled. She licked her lips, eager to finally begin.

His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, signs of arousal, surely, but all he said was, “You won’t be able to hunt vampires.”

Oh. You aren’t disappointed. Because you aren’t a slave to your hormones, remember? She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Is that why you’re so pissy?”

“I am not pissy,” he gritted out. “Only females are pissy. But yes, we will soon kiss.”

How superior he sounded. Something that had always irritated her in the past. And yet, it was delight whisking through her now, softening her. They woiuld soon kiss! “So where did you go earlier? You promised to answer me if I programmed your ID into my box, and I did.” Tomorrow, she might regret doing that. Tonight, she only wanted to celebrate.

McKell propped his head against the back of the couch and peered up at the ceiling. “If you must know, I followed Agent Deschanel. Johnny, you probably like to call him. Or John. Or Love Bunny.”

Noelle had been right. “Three things, vampire. He’s still in training, so he isn’t technically an agent yet.” There was no way she would let anyone, especially McKell, grant Johnny Deschanel a title he didn’t yet deserve. “Next, he isn’t my Love Bunny. And finally, did you follow him because you were jealous of his association with me?” Please, please, please.

McKell snorted. “Hardly. I followed him because he was a suspicious character.”

Finally they were getting somewhere. She gripped the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “Suspicious of wanting to get my clothes off?”

“Of foul play.”

“Foul play with my body?”

Now he leaned forward, blazing gaze locked on her. “I wasn’t jealous, damn you.”

Liar. “So did you cut off his penis or cut out his heart?” Fingers crossed he said heart. Noelle would owe her ten whole dollars, and she already knew what she would buy. Butterscotch-flavored lipgloss to replace the one McKell had stolen.

“What?” He shook his head in astonishment. “Neither.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. So close to victory, yet so far away.

“You are … disappointed by this? Because I can return to him and remove his penis, no problem.”

At “return to him,” hope had sprouted wings. At “penis,” those wings had withered. Foiled again. Her shoulders sagged a little more. “So you would have gone for the penis? Because a man loves with his heart, and isn’t loving a woman worse than boinking her?”

Another shake of his head. “Yes, the penis, and no, loving isn’t worse. Boinking is. But again, you sound disappointed.”

McKell had just said “boinking.” She snickered. Then she remembered that she’d just lost her bet with Noelle and wouldn’t be getting that lipgloss. “I am,” she said on a sigh. “There goes ten hard-earned dollars.” Sure, he hadn’t actually performed a cock removal, but intent was just the same. “And now that we’ve got that settled, let’s backtrack a bit. Do you want to hurt him because you were jealous of him?”

“I told you. I wasn’t—I’m not jealous. Of anyone!” Pause, grumbling. “But I called dibs on you. Which means you belong to me. And he was looking at you. At my property.”

Fight the urge to cheer. “Jealous, jealous, jealous,” she tsked.

“Am not!” He snapped the middle of the whip taut, his knuckles white over the leather.

Maybe fight the urge to taunt him, too. “I was with Johnny before I met you, so the dibs system doesn’t really apply.”

More grumbling, but she couldn’t make out the words, only the frustration behind them. “Why were you with him, anyway? He’s a sad excuse for a man. Even a human man.”

“If you must know, I thought I was with his brother Jeremy.” She ignored the “even a human” part, too busy trying to eradicate the growing heat in her cheeks.

First, renewed astonishment fell over McKell’s face. Then, relief. Then, anger. She did a double take, certain she was misreading him. But, no. The anger was real.

“Why did you want to be with him?” he demanded. “I mean, I thought it would be better if you were uncaring about appearances. But damn it, this is worse.”

Worse, how? “Hello. Did you see his muscles?”