“Ryder has vetted it prior to our date. And the ID would do you no good. Vampires don’t photograph, and my sketch does not do me justice.”

“How can I confirm that you are one?”

“Give me your hand again, and you can tell.”

Despite my unease with him, I stretched my hand over the table, palm up. He’d have to place his hand in mine, not the other way around. There was that apex predator in me again, always needing the upper hand.

To my surprise, he placed his hand in mine and waited. His fingertips were cool against my skin, his scent enveloped me, and it was impossible to think that he was anything but vampire.

His thumb grazed the inside of my palm in a caress.

Startled, I jerked my hand away. Were all vampires so grabby? I resisted the urge to flick out my claws to scare him and instead put my hand in my lap. Be nice, Ruby. I cleared my throat. “How long have you been a vampire?”

“Four years. How long have you been a were-jaguar?”

I forced a smile to my face, still feeling a little annoyed. “I’ve always been one. Most of us are born shifters. It’s rare that anyone is turned.”

“I see,” he said in an odd tone.

There was something he wasn’t telling me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was as if he knew something I didn’t and was judging my answers according to that. I didn’t like it. Plus, the damn blindfold was driving me crazy. I tugged at the scarf. “Can I take this off so we can have a real conversation?”

“I would prefer you kept it on,” Valjean said. “As a favor to me.”

Again, that odd lilt that seemed to come and go. Something he’d picked up in Europe?

“Fine,” I said after a moment. “But I just want you to know I’m not enjoying this. I can’t get comfortable with my eyes covered.”

“I think you’ll be more comfortable around me with it on,” he said cryptically.

A twinge of sympathy shot through me. “If it’s about the teeth, I assure you that it’s not a big deal to me. I’m used to big canines hanging out of my own mouth.”

“Still, this is what I prefer. It allows me to feast my gaze upon you without worry.”

I squirmed uncomfortably, my nipples pricking at the thought. I hoped he didn’t notice that. I also hoped he wasn’t spending the whole evening staring at my boobs.

“You are very beautiful,” he said in a soft, husky voice that sent a shiver through my body. “Any man would consider himself lucky to be sitting in my chair right now.”

“Thank you, but I can’t date any man,” I said, a hint of bitterness in my voice. “I have to date Alliance.”

Awkward silence. Probably not the wisest thing to say. This is why you’re single, I could hear Jayde saying. You’re too hung up on that human guy. Forget him.

“So tell me about you,” I said, rushing into the awkward silence. “Is Valjean a family name? A nickname? Do you have a thing for musicals?”

“It is a name I chose. It seemed appropriate.”

“How so?”

“A man betrayed on all sides, forced to live a double life…” He trailed off.

“Betrayed?” I had to ask.

“It is a long story, and one for a different day.”

I rolled my eyes under the blindfold. This Valjean guy needed to get over himself. “Just thought I’d ask. It’s an unusual name.”

“Didn’t you know? Vampires assume new identities. It helps us break our ties with our old lives.”

There was something about him that bothered me, even as I found him appealing. I tilted my head, trying to put my finger on why his responses were unsettling to me. As I moved, I heard him inhale sharply across the table.

I froze. Was he turned on by the sight of my neck? My entire body tingled with alarm… and a hint of arousal. That my slightest gesture could turn a man on so much was bizarre and heady.

Not a man, I corrected myself. A vampire. That changed everything.

Perhaps I’d misunderstood his reaction, though. The blindfold made it difficult to trust my senses, since there was context that I was missing. As a test, I tilted my head further and brushed my long, curling hair over one shoulder, baring my throat. I tilted my chin slowly, working over to the other side as if stretching.

I heard the barest hint of a groan, and he shifted in his chair, adjusting his clothing. As if it had become suddenly… too tight in one area?

That pervert! “Okay, that’s it,” I said firmly, getting to my feet. I tugged at the knot at the back of my head. “I can deal with a lot of things, but I’m not going to sit here in the dark while you’re getting turned on by this freaking blindfold—”

“Ruby, don’t—” the vampire began, his accent suddenly gone, his voice sounding oddly familiar.

I popped my claws, sliced through the fabric, jerked the blindfold away, and stared at my date.

Michael.

Chapter Two

When we’d first started dating, Michael had been this gorgeous, geeky god, and that hadn’t changed. Inky black hair covered his head in a rakish, thick swath. It was always a little too long on top, and when he dragged his hand through his hair, the black locks stuck up like wild spikes on top of his head. I’d been infatuated with those spikes; they made him look untamed. His face was as perfect as I remembered it, too—his cheekbones defined and arching, his brows dark slashes in an otherwise pale face, his jaw narrow but firm and currently clenched with anger. His eyes were beacons of pale green, and his mouth was full and sensual. He was every bit as muscled and hard as he was back when he was playing football in college. In the past, he’d always had a bit of a five o’clock shadow—that was gone now. His chin was completely smooth. He’d always had a tan in the past, too; that was also gone.

He was a vampire.

Michael was freaking undead. The blood drained from my face as I put things together. Four years, he’d told me he’d been a vampire. He must have been changed right after we’d broken up.

My gaze narrowed, and I focused on his teeth. There was nothing wrong with them. Nothing at all.

This date was all a setup. He hadn’t wanted me to see that it was him. He’d been sitting there, laughing at me as I was blindfolded and trying to act as if it was a real date. Disguising his voice so I wouldn’t be clued in that it was him.

Why would he do such a thing? Just to mess with me? To get the upper hand and make me look like a fool?

Fury pulsed through me. “What the fuck is this, Michael? Some sort of sick little game?”

He stiffened in anger. “So what if it is, Ruby? Is it so different from the tricks you played on me when we were together?”

So it was just to fuck with me. I threw the scarf at him, smacking him in the chest with it. “I never played games. I was always straightforward with you.”

“Didn’t you? Because I seem to recall that your last words to me were ‘It’s not what it looks like, Michael.’”

“Fuck you, Valjean,” I said coldly. I scooped up my clutch purse, which would make a great projectile when I launched it at his head. “Find some other woman to ogle while she’s blindfolded. I refuse to go along with your sick, perverted little vampire game.”

I pushed my way through the restaurant, ignoring Ryder’s questioning call. So much for a little companionship. I was done with this. Out of here. Waiters and customers scurried out of my way as I stomped to the door, bristling with outrage.

Outside on the sidewalk, I inhaled sharply, breathing in the clear night air. Odd how I’d enjoyed the slightly spicy, sweet vampire scent. I’d heard that was part of their charm, so attractive and appealing that normal, sane people let their guard down. I took a few steps down the street, stretching and letting the night air brush over my shoulders, and headed for the bus stop.

“Stop!” Michael called. “Ruby, stop! I want to talk to you.”

This evening was a waking nightmare. How many times had I dreamed of seeing him again? Of confessing my horrible misdeeds and having him forgive me? Of telling him that I’d always loved him and having him say the same back to me? The only thing Michael wanted was to fuck with me. I walked even faster.

A cool hand grasped my arm.

I turned and snarled. “What?”

The wind ruffled his thick, unruly hair. He loomed over my smaller form, and I was struck anew at how beautiful he was. His features seemed refined in undeath. It suited him.

I hated that.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said.

“I’m leaving,” I bit back, jerking my arm away from him. That was the good thing about being a were-jaguar. He wasn’t stronger than me. “This was obviously a mistake. I’d say it was nice to see you again, but we’d both know that was a lie, right? So I won’t even bother.”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair for you to leave so quickly?”

I stopped and turned, furious. “Exactly how is this unfair?”

“Don’t I get a kiss good night?”

“Not as long as you have fangs in your mouth.” I stomped away. God, what was wrong with him? With me, for dreaming about him for so long?

“Good-bye, Ruby,” he said softly, so softly I almost didn’t catch it.

The bus pulled up to the curb in a noisy squeal, drowning out anything else he might have said. I paused. Why had his voice gotten so soft and thoughtful? Was it a vampire lure? I peeked over my shoulder and caught a man turning into an alley. Michael must have decided to stick to the shadows for his walk home. Valjean, I corrected myself with a curl of my lip, and turned to the waiting bus. Just then, a heavy shuffling and the sound of flesh striking flesh pricked my ears. A fight? It was coming from the alley.

A trick?

The wind shifted, and along with the heavy scent of car exhaust, I caught the smell of something odd and pungent. I scanned the strip of restaurants nearby. No Italian. How odd that I’d caught the thick scent of garlic—