“No.”

“Mother? Father?”

“No. They died decades ago.”

Decades. Wow. So he’d been on his own his entire, clearly too-long life? How … sad. Everyone needed a friend. Even emotionally distanced vampires. “Well, imagine what it’d be like if you did have someone in your life. Just one person you cared about. Noelle is that one person to me. She’s my only friend and family, and I love her more than anything or anyone else in the world.”

“And yet you call her names. Hell, she calls you names.”

“One, we’re comfortable with each other. Two, we’re confident enough in our affections to be honest with each other. And three, sometimes people need to be razed to find their inner strength.” Ava flattened her hands on his thighs, knocking the kit out of the way. To balance herself while crouching. That was all. Really. God, he was strong. And hot. All those muscles … Concentrate. “But anyone else who says an unkind word is punished for doing so.”

“I still don’t understand. Where I’m from, you treat your loved ones with deference.”

“Even when they’re bugging you?”

Silent now, he popped his jaw.

She’d take that for a yes. That had to be hell, to never be allowed to express your anger at the person you loved. Pent-up resentment, thy name is McKell. No wonder he hadn’t attacked Ava after she’d stabbed him. Not that he loved her, but he did want something from her. Clearly.

She was not disappointed. “Why are you here, McKell?”

His fingers wrapped around her wrists, once again holding her hands in place. “We will discuss that. After.”

“After.” How sensually he’d said the word … She licked her lips, hating the way her heart sped into an unending hyper-beat. “After the biting?”

He arched a brow. “You would let me bite you?”

Yes. “No.”

“Then, no.” Grated, halting. “After the bargaining.”

“Oh, really?” Would that bargain involve nakedness? Moaning? She wouldn’t say yes, of course, but it was flattering that he—

“AIR wishes to speak with me, yes?”

Wasn’t after her body. Disappointment rocked her, undeniable this time. “Yeah. So?”

“So. I will finally talk with them.”

She ignored the wave of concern suddenly crashing through her. AIR wouldn’t go easy on him just because he turned himself in. “And all I have to do in return is…?”

“Help me track other vampires living on the surface.”

“Help you track other vampires? Why?”

“Because.” His mouth was a stubborn, mulish line.

There was only one way to get what you wanted from a man like McKell. Taunt him. “I seriously misjudged your talents. I thought you’d be an excellent hunter and—”

“I can track them no problem,” he snapped. “But that used to be one of my jobs. I would come here and track them, and then execute them for leaving our underground world.”

Score one for Ava. An answer, freely given. But … wait. Would another vampire be coming for McKell to execute him? She opened her mouth to ask, but he said, “Now they run from me or fight me, even though I only wish to question them.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing today? Fighting vampires?”

A stiff nod. “Among other things.”

“Well, no wonder your wound wasn’t healing. Moron! Injuries require rest.”

His grip tightened on her wrists, almost bruising, yet managing to skate the edge of pain. “Yes, but someone made me a target for every vampire in the area. They scented me out, knew I was weakened and they’d never have a better chance to defeat me, and attacked.”

Her stomach clenched at the thought of this man being hurt, and she scowled. She was the moron. Concern for the enemy? Again? “Did you kill them?”

“Accidentally,” he grumbled.

Good. To attack a helpless man—she almost laughed. As if McKell would be helpless, even buried ten feet underground with his hands and feet tied. Still. Those vampires had deserved what they got. “I didn’t realize so many bloodsuckers lived up here.”

“They’ve learned to hide their race.”

And now he wanted to do so? Was that why he wanted to talk to them? To learn how they did it? “So you want me to question them for you, is that it?”

“No. Just … distract them for me.”

Not a bad deal. Afterward, she’d bring in McKell, as ordered, and look like a hero. She would also learn the names and locations of the other vampires, just in case Mia wanted to test their blood, as well. That wouldn’t be a betrayal to McKell. Okay, it would, but she barely knew him, and he was the enemy. The sexiest, most erotic enemy of her acquaintance, but whatever. Her loyalty was to AIR.

“I agree. I’ll help you find and distract other vampires, and in return you’ll talk with Mia Snow. So do we need to seal this deal with a kiss or what?” she asked flippantly. Or meant to ask flippantly. The heated catch of her breath gave her away. Longing … so much longing … since the very first.

For several seconds, he simply stared at her, gaze eating her up, leaving her panting, shaky. She tried to pull away, to end the madness. To destroy the minefield of awareness.

“Yes,” he finally said, and hauled her onto his lap.

Six

Holy hell, McKell thought.

As Ava gasped in shock, hands slapping against his chest to find balance, knees straddling his thighs, he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Warm, wet, sweet. That’s what she was, and she utterly slayed him, not fighting him but embracing him, giving as much as he did.

She’d wanted it; he’d known she had. Had smelled her arousal, as sweet as the woman herself. But there’d still been a question in his mind. She wanted, but would she acquiesce? She was a warrior, after all, and as fierce as he was. Maybe even more so. Not once since he’d entered her home had she truly feared him.

Now, though, he knew beyond any doubt. She’d acquiesced. Amazingly so.

He moaned in pleasure, and tragically the sound jolted his common sense. Shouldn’t be this good. Nothing should be this good.

Still. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Even though he was shaky and needed to remain on guard. Especially with this unpredictable woman. He let their tongues continue to play, to duel, to roll and thrust, sipping, feeding, driving them closer and closer to a ledge they might later wish they’d never built. For it was a ledge of their own making, one that promised a torturous fall, a fatal landing. He could have stayed away. She could have refused him. Neither of them had.

He could have left after she’d practically dared him to sample these tantalizing lips.

They were fools. He’d come here to drink her dry. He’d come here to yell at her, shake her, choke her, something. And he’d been primed for a fight. He’d had to avoid two doorways on the way here. Usually he merely encountered one a day. That was all. But they seemed to be following him now, more determined than ever to suck him inside.

One look at her, though, those amber eyes ablaze, and he’d forgotten the urge to fight and decided to bargain with her and she had agreed. Oh, yes. They were fools.

This kiss would have to suffice as “something.”

But he couldn’t regret his choice. Not while her nails sank into his shoulders, not to push him away but to urge him closer. Not while her core rubbed against his shaft, insistent, determined. Not while he plumped the sweet mounds of her breasts, her nipples rasping against his palms. Sweet heaven.

He’d thought he would have to force his way inside, but again, she had surprised him. Had allowed him to walk right in, teasing him all the while. She’d even doctored him, those delicate-looking hands gentle on his wound.

Why wasn’t she trying to hurt him further?

He knew why he was acting as he was. He was weakened from blood loss. He’d tried to feed before coming here. Many times, as he’d told her, but his stomach had rebelled and he’d vomited nearly every drop. He didn’t know why—that had never happened to him before—but he knew where to lay the blame.

Punish her as originally planned.

“McKell,” she said on a moan.

Forget punishing her. He must have suspected he would go this route. Why else would he have washed his mouth so many times?

“You don’t really like to be treated like a lady, right? Please tell me you don’t.” She’d told Noelle she was a fragile flower.

“I don’t. Treat me bad. Real bad.”

Thank God. He released her breasts and sank his fingers into her scalp, forcing her head to tilt and allowing him deeper contact. As the kiss spun even closer to that dangerous ledge, intensifying, he slid his hands down her back, along the ridges of her spine, and stopped on her ass, dragging her closer … closer still …

“Ava,” he said on a moan. He tightened his grip on her, probably leaving bruises.

“I’m not convinced you’re serious about our bargain,” she rasped. “Convince me some more.”

“More. Yes.”

The tips of his fangs sharpened, ready, eager. He couldn’t help himself; he scraped them against her tongue. She jerked, unprepared, groaned, but didn’t pull away. She edged the rest of the way, connecting fully, only clothing keeping him from penetration. He sucked. A bead of her blood trickled into his mouth, down his throat, dancing in his stomach, and he jerked. The decadent flavor … like the sugar sweetness of her lipgloss …

Good no longer described this kiss. Exquisite, maybe. Perfection, definitely. Addicting, probably.

Addicted? Yes. He was. And he wasn’t sorry.

He needed more, as he’d told her. Had to have more. He sucked, and another bead formed. Once again the drugging sweetness astonished him. He savored before swallowing, the warmth instantly traveling through him, strengthening him, easing the sting in his wound. Finally, it began to heal.

More.

Her hands fisted his hair, ripping several strands free, but not to stop him—to urge him on. He knew because her tongue continued that devastating roll, more insistent now, purrs humming from her throat. Her hips moved in sync with her tongue, mimicking sex, rubbing against him, control fading. He needed to open her pants and delve into her panties. He needed to feel how wet she was. Needed to sink one, two, three fingers into that tight little sheath.

“McKell,” she gasped out.

“More,” was all he could think to say. But any more, and he would pull from the kiss, sink his fangs into her neck, and drain her. He knew he would. Already an intense hunger beat through him, growing, propelling him to act as instinct demanded. As survival demanded.

“Yes, please.” Unaware of the animal she provoked, she rubbed him faster and faster, reducing him to that creature of sensation. Only sensation.

Instinct … food …

No. If he drained her, he wouldn’t be able to kiss her again. And he desperately needed her kisses. Her touch. His cock ached unbearably, rising past the waist of his pants, seeking every bit of contact, any contact. Damn their clothing. He wanted to penetrate. Needed to penetrate with the same intensity he needed the kiss, the blood. And he wanted to—the core of her rubbed against him again, from base to tip, and his thoughts fragmented. He found himself lifting, grinding against her, shoving her harder, their clothing no longer a concern. Just a little more and he would … come, he realized with shock. He would come in his pants like an untrained youth.

And when he came, he really would drain her, instinct taking over completely. In his weakened condition, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

McKell gripped her hips, stilling her this time. He was panting, sweating, shaking. Frantic … starving … Oh, yes, starving.

Control. He had to gain control.

Didn’t help when Ava licked the moisture from her mouth, savoring the taste he’d left behind. “Why’d you stop?” she asked, and she sounded drugged. Her eyes were glassy, like liquid amber, and her lips a well-sated scarlet.

“For the best.” Never had his voice echoed with such menace. For himself. He should have been eager to drain her. Resisting merely proved the true depths of his foolishness.

“Whose best?” she asked, nuzzling his cheek with her own.

She was going to kill him. And herself. “Yours,” he gritted out

“‘Cause you just snuck a taste of my blood and are trolling for more?” Slowly she straightened and ran her hands up and down his arms. She grinned a wicked grin. “God, your muscles are huge.”

And he’d thought her kiss torture. Her caress … like heaven and hell wrapped in silk, sprinkled with velvet, then bespelled with an irresistible mist. He grabbed her wrists as he’d done earlier and squeezed. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll sneak a whole lot more than you’re willing to give.”

Her gaze met his, all soft and luminous. “So you liked it?” Another purr as she pulled from his grip and toyed with his necklace.

Do not answer that. Don’t you dare answer that.

Her grin returned. “Tsk, tsk, McKell. You should know it’s rude to ignore your host.”

Change the subject. Save yourself, her. “It’s also rude to stab your host.” There. Better. Except, the reminder failed to enrage him. She’d gotten the better of him, which meant she was strong, capable, and that suddenly filled him with … pride.

Pride? Why?

All that lovely amusement faded. “Here’s another tidbit. It’s also rude to remind your host of the time she stabbed you.”