He didn’t reply.

“Listen, you can rest easy. If people volunteer for the job, they willingly accept the risk. I don’t see the problem.”

“And if they do not volunteer?”

All right, so he obviously hadn’t had permission for whatever experiments he’d done. I didn’t know what to say to that. Was the scientist a monster for trying to advance society, no matter the cost? Did the ends negate the means? As a paid killer, I’d often thought so.

“Did you work for Atlanna at one time?” I asked him. She’d funded Rianne Hart’s research, so the woman had her fingers in science.

Kyrin scooted his plate away. “Dinner is finished.”

Bingo. “What did you help her do?”

“I did not help her abduct or kill any of the men, I assure you.” His voice was strained. “Now, dinner is finished.”

Fine—I let it go. For now. Because, well, I believed him. He hadn’t killed the men, hadn’t helped.

I blinked at my plate, only just then realizing that I’d eaten every bite and nibbled every crumb of chocolate. I sighed. “Yes, dinner is over.”

“Will you force me to bind you now?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest, “or will you behave?”

My teeth ground together. “I’m not a child.”

His gaze raked over me, and he said, “You most definitely are not a child.”

“What makes you think I’ll allow you to tie me a second time?”

“You live for challenge, and I like that about you. It makes me feel alive. I never feel so alive as when I’m with you.”

The same could be said of me.

The realization hit me, and I almost made a play for the nearest exit. It was scary, the way he affected me. I forced myself to stay seated. I had Kyrin exactly where Jaxon and I had wanted him—readily available to probe for information. Of course, I had three disadvantages to being here instead of the station house. One, none of my weapons were in my possession. Two, this was Kyrin’s turf, not mine. And three, I was practically naked. This damn gown was made for enticement, not war.

Well, I thought in the next instant, I could actually use the gown to my benefit.

I sipped my wine and reclined in the satin-cushioned chair, eyeing him expectantly. “Before we end our truce, I have some more questions for you.”

“Ask,” he said.

So I did. “You didn’t use molecular transfer at the station house. So how exactly were you able to appear and disappear so quickly?”

“I did not disappear. Not really. I simply moved faster than your eye could see.”

“You could have sped away like that before our little tussle in the hospital parking lot.”

“True.” The gleam in his eyes became wicked. “If I had, though, I never would have had full body contact with you.”

I tried to hide a grin. How like a man. “Not all Arcadians can do that,” I said. “Move so quickly, I mean.”

“Very few can,” he said, pride lacing his tone.

As I regarded him, curiosity filled me. Not just about the Arcadians, but about this one particularly. “Why is it you can?”

“Quite simply, it is an ability I was born with. All Arcadians are blessed with certain abilities. Lilla, for example, has a great capacity for mind control.”

“And you do not?” I asked, realizing he’d never tried to dictate my actions with his mind. One point in his favor.

“I am telepathic, able to speak my thoughts inside others’ heads, but dominating that person’s actions is not an ability I possess. Nor one I care to.”

“Why use mind control when you can use force, right?” I patted the armband.

“What I do, I do for the greater good. Isn’t that how you do your job?”

I jolted upright, leveling him with a frown. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed. “What other questions do you have for me?”

“I want to know if I’m right. I want to know if Atlanna is making babies.”

“Yes,” he answered simply. Carefully.

A piece of the puzzle clicked firmly in place. I’d been right. Fertility. Babies. The bitch planned to create as many children as she could and sell them for profit. What kind of sick woman did that? And why the hell was she abducting human men? Did she have human followers and was mating them?

“What’s your involvement? You had dinner with William Steele the night before his abduction. Why?”

His expression became leery. “I befriended William not to hurt him, but to help him.”

My brows arched. “And did you? Did you actually help him?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I am well aware that my aid did him no good. I do not need your reminder.”

His accent was growing thicker, more pronounced, with each word he spoke. I’d hit a nerve. “I know you warned the men in hopes of atonement, but that makes me wonder how you knew they were in danger in the first place.”

“How can I trust you with the truth, Mia Snow?”

“If you want me to learn to trust you, you must also learn to trust me.”

He lifted his crystal flute to his lips and drained the rich burgundy contents. “You haven’t asked what Atlanna is doing with the children,” he said, taking the focus off himself. His chin tilted to the side. “Why is that?”

“She plans to sell them. I could guess that much.”

“Some of them, yes.”

“And the rest?”

“She’s a scientist at heart. The others, well, she’s using them in experiments.”

I stiffened. “You make it sound like the children have been born, but there hasn’t been time. William and the others were taken recently.”

“William and the others weren’t the first. They are only the ones you know about. Many children have already been born.”

My God. Revulsion for this woman’s crimes and pity for the innocent babies being sold to the highest bidder, or worse, filled me. “What kind of experiments?” As I spoke, hatred—pure, undiluted hatred—sparked to life inside me. I wanted Atlanna dead. I wanted her to suffer. And I wanted to be the one who made her suffer.

Kyrin pressed his lips together and set his glass aside.

“You won’t tell me,” I said, a statement, not a question. I bit my tongue to keep from spewing a mouthful of curses.

“That is correct. Not yet, at least.”

“I want to know.” I slammed my fist against the table. “Now!”

“You are not ready for the truth.”

I gripped my fork so tightly, color drained from my knuckles. “You know I will hunt her and kill her. You know I will do my best to save those babies. That is what matters here. Nothing else. Or do you want Atlanna alive?”

“No. I want her dead, just as you, but there is more to this situation than you understand.”

“Explain it to me. I’m here. I’m willing to listen.”

Hair swaying at his temples, he shook his head. “I told you. You are not yet ready for the truth, Mia.” Before I could respond to that, he added, “Would you like to discuss your friend Dallas?”

My shoulders straightened. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table, letting the subject of Atlanna be temporarily shelved. “You will heal him?”

“Perhaps.”

I vaulted to my feet, my gown swirling at my ankles. My chair skidded behind me, then landed on its back with a loud thump. “I have had enough of your half-ass answers and youare-not-ready-to-know-the-truth shit. Our truce is over.”

Slowly he stood, disappointment deepening the lines around his mouth. “Let us work together, like before. Weren’t those your words to me?”

“I’m willing to do that, you’re not. If you won’t answer my questions, you’re not interested in working with me.”

“There is so much you don’t know.”

“So tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just—can’t. Come. I will escort you back to the room.”

“I meant what I said. You’ll have to fight me.”

“If that is your wish. You will merely end up tied to the bed again.”

“Think it will be that easy, do you?” I laughed, the sound completely devoid of humor. “If you come near me right now, I’ll drain your blood into a bowl and let you die here.” I said it so calmly, so assuredly, my words left a cold pallor in the room.

He pursed his lips, looking as casual and at ease as if he were selecting which pastry to consume for breakfast, the cocky bastard. “You’ll understand if I defend myself?”

“Of course. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Will your servants interfere?”

“Absolutely not. They will not disturb us”—his eyes shimmered with depraved anticipation—“no matter what sounds you make.”

“Very well, then. One ass-kicking, coming up.”

I moved around the table with deliberate slowness, heading straight for him. He stepped in the opposite direction. We circled each other, and impatience thrummed through me. I stopped and cocked a finger at him. “Come here. If you have the courage.”

He smiled. “I happen to like where I stand.”

He was going to use his lightning-quick abilities. I could see it in his eyes, and I couldn’t allow him that advantage. Before he could take his next breath, I grabbed the bowl of rosemary vinaigrette and tossed the contents in his face, porcelain and all. The liquid splashed into his eyes and mouth as the bowl thumped against his forehead.

He grunted, then he howled. I guess vinaigrette burns. Ha! I controlled the urge to grin. I leaped atop the dark, glossy table surface—and almost toppled to the floor when my foot caught the hem of my skirt. My amusement faded as I righted myself. I pitched three more platters at him in quick succession. As he rubbed his eyes, he tried to dodge each missile. He only managed to bump into his chair and trip on the edge of the carpet.

While he lay there, unable to see, I paused to admire my handiwork. Noodles and vegetables dripped from his saturated clothing. My alien salad, I thought smugly.

But it wasn’t enough. He’d abducted me, held me captive, stripped me, and forced me to wear this flimsy porn costume. He deserved more. He refused to give me all of the answers I needed, and thought perhaps he might help Dallas. Well, that wasn’t good enough. I’d originally hoped to force him to my will by imprisoning him, and that plan hadn’t changed. He’d just changed the location of his capture.

Determined, I jumped onto the carpet and punched him with every ounce of strength I possessed. His chin swung to the side, and he rolled onto the expensive rug I’d just ruined with food. He tried to stabilize himself, tried to work his way to his knees, but I kicked his stomach. His breath jolted from his lungs. I shoved his shoulder, spinning him to his back. Then I jumped on him, straddled his waist, and pinned him where he lay.

“Abduct me, will you?” I ground my fist into his left eye.

“Tie me to a bed, will you?” I smashed my fist into his right eye.

“Refuse to answer me, will—”

My words sliced to a halt when his hands grabbed my hips and jerked me down to his chest. Hardness to softness. One of his sticky palms twisted in my hair and yanked me close, until only a breath of air separated us. He smelled of rosemary.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned. “Not the sweet, lingering kisses of your earth men, not like last time, but the hard, thorough kiss of the Arcadians.”

“Do it, and I’ll bite your tongue off,” I told him heatedly, but I made no move to pull away. No, I sank more snugly into him, and my nerve endings burst with sensation. “I’m not done kicking your ass,” I said, this time without any ire at all in my tone, but breathless.

I shouldn’t want him like this.

I know I’d told myself that before, and I’d probably have to give myself the reminder a thousand times more. The man was forbidden to me. Perhaps that was his allure. Like the time my mother told me not to eat that box of cookies. The moment she’d spoken the words, those damn cookies had suddenly become more delicious looking. I’d had to have them.

I’d eaten them, of course, and earned myself a roaring stomachache.

The hand on my hip traveled down, cupping my ass. Fire simmered underneath my skin, the flames licking over me, deep and dark. My growing hunger for him was nearly as seductive as the man himself.

“If you can’t be honest with me,” he said, “at least be honest with yourself. You want me. We’ve kissed before, you know how good it can be.”

“Yes.” The word held a wealth of meaning.

He jerked me closer until nothing separated us. My lips parted, ready. And then he ravaged my mouth there on his dining room floor. Over and over he teased his tongue past my teeth, stroking inside, taking. Demanding.

Devouring.

My hands glided under his shirt. My fingertips kneaded his muscles, pinched his nipples, and he groaned. Such strength. Such heat. His energy hummed inside me, a potent vibrancy that ignited my blood and made every inch of me sing. I uttered a low, needy moan of my own.

“Mia,” he said harshly.

The sound slammed into me, fueling my passion. His ragged breath fanned my nose and cheek as our tongues danced and sparred. The sheer desperation in his kiss filled my head, invaded and consumed my senses.

“You taste so good,” I breathed. “Better than chocolate.”

“I’ve been desperate to taste you again,” he whispered hotly. He tried to tell me something else, but switched to a language I didn’t understand.