McKell flashed his fangs—long, sharp, and oddly beautiful—before Ava could call her best friend a raging bitch. “Be quiet! Seriously. I preferred the silence.” Then, contradicting his own demand, he asked, “So what are you doing here, anyway?”
Mmm, butterscotch. The real deal was too expensive for her to have at every meal, as well as between meals, during the middle of the night, and for all snacks. As she would have preferred. Citywide, sugar was in low supply, the price for it rising every week, it seemed, so she only indulged once a month. Which just happened to be her favorite day of the month. Even if she was on her period.
His voice, though … give me a spoonful of that.
“Mind out of the candy bowl,” Noelle said on a sigh. They knew each other too well.
Right. The vampire had asked a question, and she had a job to do. “We were just passing through, saw your fire, and thought we’d stop by and make out with each other.”
His jaw dropped.
“Wanna watch?” Noelle added hopefully.
“Or maybe join?” Ava suggested.
“Whatever. We’re not picky.”
That violet gaze shifted from one to the other, pupils expanding. He licked his lips, tongue pink and wet and, well, pretty. Was everything about the man attractive? Doesn’t matter. Good news: even vampires were perverts.
She shouldn’t have been surprised, even though a part of her still reeled at the knowledge that vampires existed at all. Sure, Ava had known aliens lived here. They’d walked this planet for over eighty years—and as she was only twenty-three years old, that meant they’d lived here her entire life (duh). All different races, sizes, colors, and shapes.
In high school she’d dated a Teran for six whole days, and they were a very catlike species. Lots of rubbing and purring and shedding. Too much rubbing and purring and shedding.
Anyway. Vampires had never revealed themselves, even during the human-alien war, and everyone had assumed they were the stuff of myth and legend. Apparently they’d been living underground for thousands of freaking years. They might have remained a secret forever, even, but AIR had a way of ferreting out the truth.
“Do you always wear weapons when you plan to make out?” McKell snapped, dragging Ava from her thoughts. God, she had to stop letting herself become distracted. And funny that his gaze seemed directed at her, and her alone, boring past her clothes and her skin and, somehow, into her soul. “Don’t try to tell me you’re unarmed. I can smell the weapons on you.”
“Uh, hello. This forest is miles from town, and it’s the dead of night. Of course we’re armed. Plus, my friend is a freak and likes when I rough her up.”
Noelle snorted. “No way. You’re the one who likes it rough.”
“Please! I’m a fragile flower. You know I like to be treated like a lady.”
“I’m not foolish,” McKell interjected, his voice now flat. And yet, somehow that timbre crackled with fury. “You’re both from AIR. You have to be, despite your … distractibility. Only agents would be foolish enough to approach me. Again.”
Distractibility—a nice way of saying they argued too much? Probably. And wasn’t that a shocker? A savage who didn’t want to hurt their feelings. She and Noelle would, of course, use that against him.
“We can do this easy, or we can do this hard,” he continued in that same flat, yet furious tone. “Leave, and you can return to Agent Snow just as you arrived. Stay, and you can return to Agent Snow in pieces. Although I’ll keep your fingers for touching what’s mine.” As he spoke, he caressed his necklace. “Your choice.”
Butterscotch, even while threatening.
Ava didn’t reach for her pyre-gun or any of her blades. She kept her arms at her sides, hands empty. She and Noelle had to be careful with this one. He could stop time—for them—while moving freely himself. Which meant he could slash their throats, and they wouldn’t know until he restarted the clock.
“News flash: we didn’t touch anything that belongs to you,” she said, to keep him talking.
“You’re here, aren’t you? So, what’s it to be, girls?”
He’d do it, too. Cut off their fingers without a moment’s hesitation. He was cold, and he was hard, and not in the good way, that she could tell. There was no line he wouldn’t cross to achieve what he wanted. No black and white for him. Only shades of gray.
Why the hell was he suddenly a thousand times sexier? The dibs system sucked worse than commitment, she decided.
“Dude,” Noelle said. “You totally stole my line. Ava, did you hear him steal my line? Easy or hard way,” she mocked while pouting. “I had planned to say that to him.”
“I heard, Noelle. At least give him a chance to apologize, though. We do not want a repeat of the last time this happened.”
A muscle ticked in McKell’s jaw. “Did you also hear what I did to the last three agents who came for me? Ava.”
Her name on those wicked lips … delectable. She shivered.
Noelle splayed her arms, deceptively innocent. “First, eyes on me, cowboy. I called dibs. Second, we heard. You ate them. So can I sign up for the feasting now, or would you rather I wait until later?”
Now those violet eyes widened, confusion swirling in their depths. A common occurrence around the girl.
“And was that a no on watching us make out with each other?” Ava asked. No mercy. No matter how badly she wanted to tongue him.
His nostrils flared, even as his gaze—which had never left her—traveled over her, lingering in all the right places. Her suddenly pebbling ni**les, the now aching apex of her thighs. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, the cool night air blending with the warmth from the campfire and licking over her. Another shiver rocked her.
“Well?” she prompted, hating the breathlessness of her voice.
“That’s a yes,” he rasped.
She almost grinned. Typical male. Little did he know, he’d just bought himself a one-way ticket to AIR HQ.
“Excellent choice! I’ve been dying to put my mouth all over this little morsel for too long. So come here, you sexy piece of sexy goodness, you.” Noelle grabbed Ava by the shoulders and tugged her close, lips lowering to plant a big, wet one.
Ava made sure to moan really loudly as her hands slid down … down … the seeming delicate bumps of Noelle’s spine. She cupped Noelle’s ass with her right hand, made a mental note to inquire what kind of workout program her friend had been doing, then curled the fingers of her left hand—the one farthest away from the vampire—around a tiny pyre-gun stored beneath Noelle’s too-tight jeans.