Why had he taken them?
Whatever the reason, she wanted a necklace like that for herself. Not only because it would go with all of her outfits, but also because it screamed powerful and just a little insane. One glance at that necklace, and most people would run, too afraid to bother him. They wouldn’t tease him mercilessly for his mistakes and laugh about them days later in front of his AIR peers.
Ava’s hands curled into fists. Maybe she’d steal the necklace from him after she arrested him. Food for thought.
What she knew about the man, besides the fact that just looking at him could give a girl an orgasm: He needed to feed—aka drink blood—only once a week. His name was Victor, but McKell, what everyone called him, was his classification. And in layman terms, his classification was “bad motherfucker.” Apparently, he was a warrior. The warrior. Once leader of the entire vampire army and still savage beyond compare. Unless the comparison was with her best friend Noelle. “Savage” was a wee bit mild for Noelle.
Anyway, Ava had walked into McKell’s makeshift camp a few minutes ago, yet he hadn’t even glanced up from his task. He hadn’t asked her to leave and hadn’t questioned her about her sudden appearance and obviously nefarious intentions.
He knew she was here, though. She’d watched his nails grow and sharpen, becoming claws. Yet he didn’t fear her enough to bother with her. Or Noelle, who stood beside her. A mistake, but he’d learn. Everyone did.
Ava glanced at her friend, fellow (almost) AIR agent, and partner in many (allegedly heinous) crimes, to gauge the girl’s reaction to the man. Noelle, too, stared at him, completely fascinated.
Fascination was a good look for her. Hell, everything was a good look for her. Bastard wouldn’t stand a chance. Tall, slender, with silky brown hair and velvety gray eyes, Noelle was always the epitome of elegance. Until she opened her mouth. Then she was the epitome of mean. And sarcastic. And rebellious.
The contradiction intrigued anyone with a pulse.
Wait. Did vampires even have pulses? Ava suddenly wondered. Were they the living dead? Maybe. What did she know? Okay, so. Rephrase: the contradiction intrigued … anyone. McKell would be no different.
“Dibs,” Noelle said in her hoarse, used-to-be-a-smoker voice.
Ava massaged the back of her neck. “The fact that he’s a murderous bloodsucker isn’t a deal breaker?”
“With those biceps? No.”
Her gaze returned to McKell. He was shirtless, his muscles on full display. Those to-die-for biceps—literally to-die-for, since a lot of people had probably watched their lives flash before their eyes while those meaty clubs descended—mouthwatering pectorals, and rope after rope of hard-won abs.
“You’re right.” Damn. But since Noelle had already called dibs, Ava would never be allowed to run her hands over that deliciously strong body. Was that a … tear in her eye? “Just a warning, though. Your name rhymes with his, and I plan to torture you about that forever.”
“Still not a deal breaker.”
Damn her friend’s stubbornness. Stubbornness Ava was intimately acquainted with.
They’d met years and years ago, after Noelle had been kicked out of every private school in the state and no boardinghouse would take her. Ava had understood the reason why within five seconds of meeting the girl. Noelle’s first day at New Chicago Junior High No. 17, she’d taken one look at dirt-poor Ava and said, “I’m bored and need a project. You’ll do.”
Ava, of course, had said, “Project this,” and busted her two front teeth.
The next day, Noelle had held her down and chopped off her hair. She’d then given Ava a glittery ribbon to style away the damage. And when the principal had arrived a few minutes later, demanding answers, neither had told on the other.
They’d been inseparable ever since.
“Can I at least have a feel of him when you’re done?” Five minutes. That’s all she needed. She’d touch every inch of him—if anyone asked, she’d just say she’d frisked him—and then, the next boyfriend she had … hello pretend vampire. Win, win. Not that she’d had a boyfriend in years. Not that she wanted one in the future. Commitment sucked. But hey, so did McKell. She snickered. Anyway, thumbs up for sex. Which she hadn’t had in a while, either.
Noelle shrugged. “You can touch him, but only if you do my laundry for a week.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. Even the suggestion was cruel. But she said, “I need some think-time.” There was a scar on McKell’s sternum, stretching to his navel and dipping inside his pants, and the thought of tracing it … maybe she could survive the laundry. That’s craziness.
“I’m kinda pressed for time, so you’ve got two minutes to decide,” Noelle replied. “Starting now.”
Finally the vampire stopped running those silver blades together. Had he been listening to their conversation, as they’d hoped? Was he now waiting for her think-time to end to discover her answer?
Two minutes after her two minutes had passed, McKell growled low in his throat. “I’m right here. Stop talking about me as if I’m not.”
That voice … God hadn’t just been on his A game when he created this being. He’d decided to enter a new league. Rough, raspy, and purring, McKell’s voice was like hot butterscotch poured over—hmm, butterscotch. The thought of her favorite candy distracted Ava for a moment.
Yep. Should have called dibs yourself.
“We did,” Ava said, forcing her mind on the task at hand. “We stopped talking about you. In fact, you had to break the silence. Remember?”
That earned her a snarl. “Just answer the woman and leave. This is my camp. Mine!”
Or not have called dibs. Selfish much? “I’ve decided. You can have him,” Ava said to Noelle. “He’s a little too cranky for me. Besides that, I promised myself I’d take a razor to my wrists before ever doing your laundry again.” She hadn’t minded the blood and gore on the clothes. Why would she, when the same stuff could be found on her own? The problem had been folding the skanky costumes Noelle supposedly liked to wear in the bedroom—in full view of everyone inside Suds and Bubbles Laundromat. Costumes Ava suspected Noelle had purchased only for her benefit and subsequent humiliation.
“You’re such a prude,” Noelle muttered.
“Well, you’re a pain in my ass.”
“Me? You’re the ass pain!”