They plummeted into an attic. She kept hitting. They crashed through the attic floor into an apartment below.

Nothing could pry Rune’s bow from his grip. Which left him with only one hand to defend himself, much less reach the cuffs. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to coldcock her.

As the next floor ruptured, he caught sight of a stunned family at a dinner table, forks hovering over plates.

CRASH. Down he and Josephine plunged to a lower story. In that apartment, a guy was pile-driving a girl, the stereo blaring. Never looked up.

Enviable. Rune was getting his ass kicked by a female he couldn’t seem to hurt.

BOOM. Another story breached. Their momentum should be slowing, but with a wild look in her eyes, she traced them, accelerating the velocity. She meant to put him into the ground?

“Stop this, vampire! If I trace against you, you’ll go flying—”

She popped him in the mouth.

They tore through a last story, rupturing a web of water lines. Rune’s back slammed into the basement floor, cracking the foundation wide open. She landed atop him.

The impact punched the air from his lungs. He sucked in a breath of cement dust and mist, coughing beneath her.

She eased upright, sitting astride him, seeming to gauge how much she’d injured him.

The building groaned and wobbled. They both froze. A second passed. Then another. It stood fast.

“What the hells, female?” Josephine had surely spooked his target with her scream, much less when the entire building had shimmied. He strained to detect the Valkyrie’s scent. Nothing. “Gods damn it!” Though Nïx couldn’t foresee her own destiny, she might have the ability to start clocking his future. Had she gotten a look at his face?

If so, she could predict where he would strike every time.

But this situation was salvageable. Josephine was in league with Nïx, which meant he could use his new prisoner to get to the Valkyrie. Perhaps Nïx would bargain for Josephine’s release.

Not to mention the information he could squeeze from the vampire. Yet another excuse to capture her. Those cuffs in his back pocket awaited.

Once he’d secured her, he’d force her to return his talisman, then utilize one of his particular talents.

Interrogation. “You’re going to pay for this move, vampire.”

She drew back for another punch. With his speed, he caught her fist. As he squeezed, he registered her appearance. Mist from the water lines had dampened her porcelain skin—her short dress revealed a lot of it. The scarlet sheath barely contained her plump breasts and rode high on her thighs.

She wore jewelry, makeup, and fuck-me heels, dressing like a man-eater. Dressing like? Josephine the vampire was the very definition of a man-eater.

Blood rushed to his cock at the thought: She made a meal of me last night.

When he hardened beneath her, she squirmed with outrage, and that micro hem exposed a fruitful view.

His man-eater had left her panties at home, revealing her smooth pussy.

Fuck. Me.

At the sight, a haze covered his vision. Burning for her kiss, he grasped her nape, pulling her in—

Wham! Another jab to the mouth. “Naturally you’re thinking about sex!”

“After all this foreplay? Of course I am!”

“Foreplay? In your dreams!”

His gaze dipped between her thighs and back up. “Only the sweetest reveries.”

“You are such a . . .” She trailed off, her shimmering eyes locked on his bottom lip.

He daubed his tongue, tasting blood. He smirked with triumph when she dreamily licked a fang. “Does my vampire thirst for baneblood? Ah, she thinks me delicious.” Her craving made his chest bow and his cock swell even more. “No need to get violent, female. All you have to do is ask me real nice to feed you. A beauty like you could coax me to do just about anything in the name of pleasure.”

She shook her head hard, but her breaths had shallowed, those creamy breasts rising and falling before his rapt gaze.

She clearly struggled for control. Which meant he could take it. She leaned over him, gripping his shoulders, her dress slipping higher.

The scent of her arousal swept him up, blanking his mind. His target was forgotten, his mission. Liabilities, vulnerabilities, gods, wars—none of it mattered at that moment.

Her claws dug into his shoulders. The vampire was pinning her prey? This prey was going nowhere.

He released his bow to slip his hand between her thighs and cup her soft pussy. He groaned when his palm met hot, giving flesh. “Female, I’m going to make you come till you can’t walk.”

She blinked. “Rune?”

Just his name on her tongue made him shudder. “Give me your lips, Josephine.” Gods, he needed her kiss—

She snatched his hand away then launched a haymaker at his face. “Don’t you dare!”

“The hells, woman!” He seized her wrists. “Dare? Because I’m a dark fey?” And damn if he wasn’t leaning up to do it again, pulling on her wrists. “Any barrier between us disappeared when you drank me down.”

With her hands captured, she defended herself with her legs, squeezing her thighs around his waist, shoving her knees into his sides.

His plan to take her mouth and slip his cock inside her wasn’t happening—for now—so he snagged the cuffs. Quick as a blur, he bound one of her wrists to his own.

She gasped with realization, attempting to teleport. She even did that slow tracing thing again, but she wasn’t going anywhere. The metal would hold her. Earlier, as he’d been running down Nïx’s scent, he’d hastily etched runes into those cuffs, directing the power only to one. Josephine couldn’t trace—but he could.