"Kinky. But like I was saying, if you want to see her, you'll bring Nolan to that pier.”

“Where I'll find all of AIR waiting for me. No thanks."

"You'll come, or you won't see her again. It's as simple as that." He shrugged, as if he didn't care what she decided. "Oh, and a little side note. I'm gonna need your cell number."

She laughed, her smile so bright it was as though the sun had just bathed hen "No way I'll give it to you."

"Then take mine. I bought a new number just for you." Devyn forced her to remain still as he stood and stepped around her. He bent down and grabbed her tights, reaching inside the slim pocket and tugging out her cell.

"If I could move, I'd slap that out of your hand. Stop controlling me, damn it!"

"Learn how to stop me yourself." He'd known she had a phone because he'd felt the energy kicking off it. Quickly he deleted every number in her address book and programmed in his own. "There. You'll have no trouble scrolling and finding me."

"Do you get a new number for all your girls, or am I just special?"

"You're special, sweet." There was a ring of truth to his tone that surprised even him, and he frowned. He released her from stun and handed her the pants, the phone stashed back inside the pocket. "Call me tomorrow at noon. I want to talk to Nolan and make sure he's still alive."

She yanked the pants from him and jerked them on. "I'll expect to talk to Aleaha."

"Sounds fair." If he'd truly planned to call her, that is. As it was, he'd have her at his mercy before lunch. "Any tricks tomorrow, and I'll slice Aleaha's throat like a melon." A lie, but she didn't know that. Her hands fisted at her sides. "You're going to regret the day you met me. I'll make sure of it."

"I look forward to your attempts." So badly he wanted to force her to strip again. So badly he wanted to finally sink inside her, pounding hard into her tight, wet sheath. And she would be wet when he took her. Dripping, as he so desperately wanted. He'd make sure of it.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow night," she said softly. Deadly. "Dream of me."

CHAPTER 8

Everything Devyn had told her about vampires raced through Bride's mind as she snuck home, doubling back, taking wrong turns, careful to avoid any AIR agents that might be following her. Devyn was just the type to tell her he'd meet her for an exchange tomorrow while having someone lying in wait for her today, ready to steal Nolan rather than trade for him.

Plus, it was better to think about the vampires and her possible family link—she was part of a warrior line?— than to think about Devyn's nicknames for her—pet, sweet, darling—and how they melted her heart—so foolishly, since he most likely used them with everyone. The way she'd wanted to trace his skull-and-dagger tattoo with her tongue. The way he had kissed her bra, her skin. The way he'd touched her, and the way she'd wanted to beg for more. Beg! Something she despised and had sworn never to do again. Too many times, she'd had to beg for food for Aleaha, and too many times, people had waved her away as if she were a pesky fly.

But for more of those naughty hands, that hot tongue, that decadent scent ... more of everything he had to give ... maybe. Who are you? Never maybe. Always no.

And what about Aleaha? Devyn had found her. How? Bride fingered the necklace she now wore. She'd been searching for years with no success. Devyn had learned the girl's name, and boom. He had her. How was he treating her? Bride was tempted to lie in wait for him. To follow him to where Aleaha was being kept. Except, his warning echoed through her mind continually. Any tricks tomorrow, and I'll slice her throat.

Any tricks ... tomorrow. He'd said nothing about tonight. Hello loophole.

Nervous, excited, hopeful, she backtracked once again, heading toward Devyn's building. Was he still there? He didn't live there, that much she knew. The closet had been empty. So had the fridge; she would have smelled the food.

Speaking of food, what did he eat? He smelled divine, no hint of human spice. And what did his blood taste like?

She was so curious about him, this man she'd encountered thrice, touched twice, made out with once —kind of—and now dreamed about. What made him tick? How did he live his life? Had he ever been in love?

Not that the answers mattered. Really. He was her enemy right now. If he'd hurt her friend, his throat would be ripped from his gorgeous body and tossed into a gutter, she thought, nails digging into her palms.

Physically hurting women didn't seem like Devyn's style, she reminded herself, and her muscles relaxed.

Most likely he'd screwed Aleaha stupid. That was more his MO. The bastard. How many hearts had he broken over the years? Did he even care about the destruction he left behind?

Not that it matters. Another reminder.

It was late Sunday night, and the streets were nearly deserted. Only a few people bustled past, a little woozy on their feet from too much alcohol. The moon was high, golden, and full. It was the kind of night she usually loved. She could meander freely, air cool on her easily heated skin, drunks ripe for the plucking. Not that she could keep beer-saturated blood down anymore, either. Even that upset her delicate stomach.

Devyn had seemed surprised and angry that she couldn't keep an entire meal down. Those beautiful amber eyes had given him away. Why the anger? He knew something she didn't, most likely. Hell, he knew a lot of stuff she didn't. If she had to trade more kisses for the answers, fine, she'd suck it up like a big girl and do it. If he treated Aleaha well. Everything hinged on that. Everything but the fact that she was going to drink from him. One way or another. As far as she was concerned, he owed her.

The closer she came to Devyn's apartment, the more she felt a pair of eyes burning into her back. Bride's heartbeat kicked up a notch, even as she tensed, slowed, scanning the area. One thing movies and books had gotten wrong was the fact that vampires were dead. At least, she wasn't. She had a working heart; she breathed. The only difference between her and humans—besides her abilities—was her need for blood rather than food.

Vamps could be otherworlders, she supposed. Or even genetically altered humans. Either way, she could be killed. She'd come close a few times over the years.

Purposefully she rounded a corner, heading into a back alley that led to a maze of doors and walkways. While it was a good place to hide, it was also a good place to test her possible shadow's intentions. There were no shops here, nothing a normal person would want to see or need. There was no reason to follow her here unless she was a target.

Boxes lined the buildings, the homeless sleeping inside them. No one should—footsteps resounded behind her. Okay. She was being followed; she was a target. Devyn? AIR? Or someone else?

Don't turn, don't let whoever it is know you know they're there. Bride breathed deeply, in and out, trying to sort through the deluge of scents. Urine, waste, dirt, unwashed bodies, rotting food. A clean body, lightly cologned. Not Devyn. She would have caught a whiff of his clean sheets and rain fragrance, mingled ever so slightly with Aleaha's sky-and-pine smell, no matter what surrounded her. It was probably someone he knew, though.

Grinding her molars, she swiped another corner and picked up her pace, grabbing her phone and flipping it open. She didn't have any trouble finding Devyn's number because it was the only one in memory. That dirty little shit! She didn't have any friends, but she collected numbers to restaurant deliveries. Not for the food, but for the delivery boys.

The footsteps picked up pace, too. With a press of a button, Devyn's number was dialed. She held the phone to her ear, snaking into an open doorway, zigzagging through a building, and sprinting out the other side.

"Miss me already, darling?" Devyn's sexy voice purred on the other end.

"Couldn't keep your word and wait until tomorrow, could you? Had to sic your AIR buddy on me tonight? Is it the blue-eyed one? What's his name? Dallas? He's cute, so I might call and thank you tomorrow. He won't, though. That, I promise you."

A heavy, crackling pause. "You're being followed?"

"Oh, look. Devyn's acting innocent. Must be a fun new game.”

“Where are you, Bride?"

There wasn't an ounce of humor in his tone. That... scared her. "And help your friend find me? Sorry. I'm not gonna tell."

"That's not my friend." There was static on the line as he spoke, as if he was talking and running at the same time. "Where are you?"

Was he telling the truth? Only person she'd ever truly trusted was Aleaha. Too many others had betrayed her, lied to her, and let her down. Course, most of those sins came courtesy of her exboyfriend. He'd been so sweet at first. A real doll. But because of her late-night jaunts, he'd begun to think she was cheating on him. He'd become resentful, jealous, hateful, and had decided to teach her a lesson and cheat on her.

A glowing blue beam soared a few inches to her right, and she gasped as she dove around a metal pole. "Shit! Whoever it is just tried to stun me. Sure it's not AIR?"

"Yes. Now give me your goddamn location."

The anger in his voice was enough to make her shudder. If the person chasing her was AIR, then that person could just as easily phone him and tell him where she was. He could have her location whether she gave it to him or not. The rationalization eased her objections, and Bride finally spouted off her coordinates.

"I'm on my way."

"Okay. See you—"

"Don't hang up!" he shouted.

Another beam soared past her, this one mere inches from her shoulder. She yelped, increasing her speed, feet pounding into the pavement. "Almost got me that time," she rasped. The burning started up in her chest, thorns ready to cut.

"Does stun effect you?”

“Yes." Unfortunately. "I'm almost there. Keep dodging.”

“Brilliant plan. However did you think of it?" she asked dryly. "Don't answer. We'll talk when you get here."

"That sounded like good-bye, and I already told you not to hang up."

"Sorry, but I'm going to take the bastard out, and I can't do that one-handed." Click. As Bride ran, she stowed her phone and tore several razors from her sleeve. Her palms were damp with sweat, but she maintained a firm grip as she swerved behind another doorway.

This time, rather than race onward, she crouched on the floor. A quick peek, her gaze cutting through the darkness like a knife, and she saw that her attacker was male. Tall, lean but muscled. Sandy hair. Boyish good looks.

Tom, she realized, and her stomach rolled. Shy, horny Tom wanted her stunned? Why? He slowed to a leisurely stroll and raised his pyre-gun as he searched every doorway. "Come out,

come out, wherever you are," he called. "I don't want to hurt you, Bride."

Bride didn't reply. She wasn't an idiot—hello, he so wanted to hurt her—and wouldn't give away her location by allowing him to follow her voice. Thank God she hadn't drunk from him that night. Afterward, he could have ambushed her while she'd writhed in pain.

Guess she owed Devyn a thank-you.

When Tom stepped around one of those thick metal poles, Bride jerked her arm forward, releasing one of her razors. It whizzed through the air and sliced the side of his neck. He howled, fired, free hand reaching up to staunch the blood.

The stun missed her by a mile. She used his distraction to her advantage and tossed another blade, aiming for his other side. It, too, sliced at his neck, drawing blood. Mmm, blood. So red ... so pretty. He didn't smell as pure tonight, had eaten over salted eggs and bread, but the dark red liquid still looked savory. He howled again, dropping his gun and covering the rest of his sensitive flesh.

"Damn it! I just want to talk to you," he growled.

"Then you shouldn't have shot at her," another, deeper voice said. A pissed-off voice. Devyn was here.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her skin tightened, and her nipples beaded, relief and arousal blending. Every nerve ending in her body ached for another touch from him. Maybe I am an idiot.

"You can come out, sweetheart. Your human can't move; he's under my control. Nice shots on his neck, by the way. Very impressive aim. Next time sever the jugular, though."

Keeping a razor in hand and beaming at Devyn's praise, Bride pushed to a stand and strode from the doorway. Though she wanted to stop beside Devyn and breathe him in, she bypassed him for Tom's gun, still resting on the floor. She picked it up and sheathed it at her waist.

Devyn tsked under his tongue. "Thinking of using that on me?"

"Just adding it to my collection." And holding on to it for protection. One wrong move from him, and she would stun him.

Finally, she faced him. He'd pulled on a shirt but was otherwise the same as she'd left him. Sexy as hell in wrinkle-free slacks, hair in disarray, and amber eyes bright. He wasn't winded or sweating. He looked as if he'd stepped from the pages of a magazine, rather than having just sprinted a five hundred-yard dash.

"Let me go," Tom demanded. "I'm human. I have rights.”

“Not anymore," Devyn said flatly.

Bravado faded. "Please. I didn't mean any harm, and I don't know how you're keeping me still like this, but I'm willing to forgive and forget. Just let me go."

"Do you know this man?" Devyn asked her, ignoring Tom. "Yep. Tom tried to pick me up the other day. The day I met you, actually."

One of Devyn's dark brows arched. "Heaven and hell, all in one day. Lucky girl. I take it you refused him?"