Irreverent baggage. And stupid, stupid increased pride. He liked her wit.

“Were you distracting me so that you could stab me?” she rasped, arching into him. The very idea should have sent her running from him. Yet still she remained completely unconcerned.

Either she was confident in her ability to protect herself or confident in his in ability to hurt her. Either way, his sense of pride increased again. The heart of a warrior beat in her chest.

Stupid, stupid, stupid of him to crave her.

“Ava.” He needed something to do with his hands, and so he once again latched onto her hips. He squeezed so tightly he knew bruises would form, if they hadn’t already, but better to mark her that way than the other. “Stop moving on me.”

“McKell. Answer my question. Please.”

Had he liked her blood? “What if I did?” He wouldn’t admit to the helpless need to possess her. The need to have her curves under him—over him. The need to have her touching, tasting, giving, taking. Oh, taking. Taking more than anyone else ever had. “What would you do if I decided to have you?” He hadn’t meant the words as a challenge, but that’s how they emerged.

She licked her lips. “Stop you, of course.” But she didn’t sound confident.

He chuckled. Then frowned. Beyond stupid, that’s what he was. “I think you’ve changed your mind about me.” How many times had she told Noelle she didn’t want him? Countless. And usually a human’s disregard wouldn’t have bothered him. Humans were beneath him, after all, but he couldn’t walk away from this one. As evidenced by his actions today.

“What do you mean?” she asked, settling her weight on her haunches. Away from his erection.

“Before, you weren’t willing to do a load of laundry to be with me. Now, I think you would.”

She arched a brow. “Hurt your feelings when I said that, did I?”

“No!” The denial echoed from the walls, and his cheeks heated at his own vehemence. “No,” he stated more calmly. “I have no feelings. I was simply repeating something you said.”

She grinned, and the return of her amusement lit her beautiful face. Again, most people ran from him in terror when he displayed the slightest hint of displeasure. Those who didn’t soon wished they had. And really, this one had more reason than most to fear him. Yet she remained on his lap, as calm as ever.

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she traced a fingertip down his sternum. “Well, to be fair, I hadn’t kissed you then, so I had no idea what I was giving up.”

Another hint for him to get back to kissing her?

Slaying … him. “The bargain has been sealed,” he said. Before she could tempt her further, he did what he should have done minutes ago: unceremoniously dumped her onto the floor.

Severing the contact failed to calm him, though. His body still ached, and his teeth still throbbed for another taste.

She gasped in surprise and glared up at him, her silky curls in disarray around her shoulders. “And by had no idea what I was giving up, I meant kissing you would be awful and wouldn’t have changed my mind. And I was right!”

Liar. Her pupils were blown, her lips still red and swollen, and with the distance between them, he was finally able to concentrate on more than the heaven that rested between her legs. He could hear the rush of blood through her veins, swift and needy. Could smell the desire pouring off her, sweet and heady.

That should have increased his hunger. Instead, his instincts switched gears. From wanting to devour to wanting to protect, and this time, they far overshadowed his need for blood. Odd. Incomprehensible.

She popped to her feet and dusted off her hands, all while donning a mask of disinterest. “Anyway, the bargain can’t be sealed. We haven’t set the rules yet.”

“The rules are simple,” he said, relaxing in his seat and adopting the same disinterested mask. He liked this couch. Its softness, its worn exterior. Every crease meant Ava’s body had rubbed there. Repeatedly. “You’ll obey me in all things.” Hadn’t he made that clear already?

“That’s not what I meant.” She anchored her hands on the flare of her waist. “Who helps who first?”

“You’ll help me, since AIR will want to lock me up.” Sure, he would escape the second their questions were answered and he’d fulfilled his promise to Ava, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Good point. But in return for allowing the male to go before the female—as is proper—you have to swear not to drink from me without permission. Which I won’t give. So that means you’ll have to drink from other people.”

“I swear.” Because he could gain her permission with little effort. “I’ll drink from others.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, as if his answer had angered her. Surely he was mistaken. He’d pretended to give her what she wanted. Hadn’t he? What fault could she find with him?

“So my blood isn’t good enough for you?” she snarled. “Is that it?”

Oh, yes. She was angry. “I never said anything about your blood not being—”

“Just forget it,” she said, derailing his rant before it could truly begin. “It doesn’t matter. And now that that’s settled, when do you want to start hunting vampires?”

Settled? Ha! She was still angry, yet didn’t want to hear his rebuttal. He might never understand this human. “We’ll start tonight.” He unfolded his big body from the couch, his stitches pulling. Thankfully, the nearly debilitating sting never returned.

And wasn’t that surprising? Just how powerful was Ava’s blood? He’d had only a few drops, yet he was healing as if he’d feasted. The blisters on his skin had even faded, just from the scent of her, and though he was tired, he could function.

His head tilted to the side, his attention on her deepening, as a thought occurred to him. “Why did AIR send you to capture me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” she said, the words lashing as sharply as his whip. “I’m the best.”

Aw. He’d pricked her pride. “You are indeed good, but you’re also in training.”

“So?” She splayed her arms, a look-at-me gesture. “That doesn’t mean I’m not the best.”

“Yes, actually, it does. Or they would have made you an agent already.”

She scowled at him.

Had they sent her because they’d somehow known how potent her blood was? Had they known he’d crave it? Had they hoped he would become her slave? He wouldn’t put such an action past them. They were devious like that.

He wouldn’t worry about her purpose, though. Not now. There were more important matters to attend to. “Where’s your bed?”

She blinked over at him, confusion replacing the anger. “Excuse me?”

“Your bed. Where is it?”

“Why?”

He pushed past her and snaked a corner. Kitchen. Small, but clean. Stone counters, stainless steel sink, metal chairs. Her dishes were put away, and there was a faint scent of butterscotch in the air. His mouth watered, and he fisted his hands. Stupid scent. He almost wished he’d never encountered it before, because now the slightest whiff caused his cock to stand at instant attention.

“McKell,” Ava called out behind him, footsteps pounding.

She followed.

He nearly grinned. “Ava,” he called back. Another corner, and he stood at the entrance of a small bedroom. The bed was so short and thin, his feet would hang off the edge and his arms would fall off the sides. But the curtains were closed over the only window, muted shadows chasing away the brightest light, creating a homey, well-loved atmosphere, so he would make do.

He kicked off his shoes and climbed atop the mattress. The springs squeaked.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ava demanded from the doorway.

He burrowed under the covers, and once again the scent of butterscotch wafted to his nose. Shaft … twitching … “I’m going to sleep.” And after a few hours of rest, he would have the strength to ignore these protective instincts and bodily urges, and start acting like the ruthless vampire he was. More importantly, his mind would be alert and he could figure some things out.

“Why?”

“I need to regroup. Now be quiet.”

“Wait. Sleeping? Here? With me and my weapons only a few feet away?”

“Yes.” Hopefully, resting would obliterate his foolish urge to trust her, too. But he did. Trust her. Some part of him knew she wouldn’t betray him while he was at his weakest. “Don’t disappoint me and tattle.”

“Or you’ll rip me to little pieces and send me back to Mia?” Drily uttered, as if she didn’t really think he’d do it.

“Something like that,” he muttered. Her way of thinking needed a remodel, too.

“But … but …”

“You’re still talking.”

There was a tense pause. Then, “If you want peace and quiet in my apartment,” she snapped, “you’ll have to return my phone.”

“I don’t have it with me,” he lied. The phone was in his pocket, where it would remain. Perhaps forever.

“Return it later, then.”

“Maybe.” Another lie, but he doubted she would have liked the truth.

“McKell,” she ground out, exasperated. “You can’t just—”

“Still. Talking.”

She cursed under her breath before slamming the door.

Was the vampire brain damaged? Ava wondered as she paced the length of her living room. Mia liked to say all men were damaged in some way, but Ava hadn’t believed her. Until now.

McKell acted as if they were best friends. He acted as if he owned the place. He acted as if he hadn’t kissed the breath right out of her and rocked her entire world. He acted as if her blood was subpar.

Bastard.

Sure, they were partners now. In a way. Sure, they were working together. Kind of. So he should treat her better. Definitely. He should treat her as if he valued her opinion. As if her kisses were amazing. As if her blood was the best he’d ever had.

Bastard, she thought again.

When she’d told him he would have to drink from other people, he’d responded quickly, with no hesitation. Clearly, he’d wanted to drink from other people. And that pissed her the hell off. Not just because he’d made her feel subpar, which was irrational—she knew it was, but she couldn’t help herself—but because she hated the thought of his mouth on anyone else. He should have demanded access to her blood.

Ava stomped into her kitchen and fixed herself a ham sandwich. And as she chewed with more force than necessary, she realized she was shaking. Not from anger, as she would have liked to convince herself, but from arousal.

McKell’s kiss had heated her blood, and the fever had yet to cool. Her nipples were still hard, her stomach twisted into a anticipatory knot, and her skin too tight for her bones. And her tongue ached, damn it! He’d scraped the sensitive flesh with his fangs, and rather than hurt her, the action had intensified her desire for him.

She’d wanted her hands all over him. Had wanted to offer him complete access to her neck. Had wanted to tell him to suck every last drop of her blood. Only thoughts of who and what he was had stopped her from doing so. He was a criminal. A vampire who clearly considered himself far superior to humans.

Dessert, he’d said with disdain.

She couldn’t forget. Not what he thought, and not what she’d always wanted. Respect. She would not be known as the agent who fucked her targets. No, no, never. Talk about humiliating. Especially since a few of the other trainees already referred to her as trash.

Street trash. Daughter-of-a-druggie trash. Trash, trash, trash. She was so used to the reference, it didn’t bother her anymore. But adding to the list? Sleep-with-anything-that-breathes trash? Hell, no.

After draining a glass of water, she picked up her home phone to ring Noelle. The slide of a door caught her attention, and she dropped the phone, grinning. Noelle must have sensed her need and come running, because her friend was already here.

Ava trudged into the living room, and sure enough, Noelle had let herself in. She fell onto the couch, and stared down at the worn fabric. She frowned.

“You were bleeding?” her friend said. “Which means you’re injured. Why didn’t you tell me you were injured? And who did it? I’ll kill him. I swear to God I’ll kill him dead! Is he the one who brought the whip?”

Shit. McKell had left stains on the couch? He was paying the cleaning bill or buying her a new one. “I’m fine. The vampire was bleeding, not me.”

Gray eyes swung to her, shock in their depths. “He was here? And he brought a whip?”

“Was? No. He’s still here.” She jabbed her thumb toward the back of the apartment. “He’s sleeping. And yes, he brought it, but no, he’s not going to use it,” she added before her friend could ask. She might use it, though. Later. The thought of tying him up—don’t you dare go there!

Now those gray eyes widened. “You banged him already?”

Unlike the others, Noelle wouldn’t view such a bedding as trashy. Noelle was a romantic, though she would probably deny that until her dying breath, and would have praised Ava for following her heart. Or panties.

“Nope. No banging.” But she would have, and would have hated herself for it. Despite everything, she wouldn’t have stopped him. Would have gone all the way. Taken everything he had to give. Between her legs, his cock had been thick and long and ready, and she’d wanted it. Desperately.