My gaze ran over the pictures lining the walls just under the ceiling, and I started when I found the blurry shot of me, Nick, and Ivy on her bike. It was fuzzy, but you could still tell there were a rat and a mink standing on the gas tank. Warming, I lifted my iced tea to sprinkle some salt on my napkin.

"Is that a spell?" David asked, eyes going to the kitchen doors when someone laughed.

I shook my head. "It's so the paper doesn't stick to the bottom of the glass and make me look like more of a dork than I already am."

The Were pulled his head up from his melancholy hunch. "Rachel, you're wearing leather and sitting at a vamp bar. You could have a pink slushy with an umbrella in your hand and still impress the hell out of most people."

My exhalation was long and slow. "Yeah, but alphas aren't most people."

"You'll be fine. You're the female for my pack, remember?" His gaze went behind me. "Afternoon, Kisten," he said, and I turned, smiling when I recognized the scent of incense and leather.

"Thanks, Mr. Peabody," the vampire said sourly, his attempt to startle me clearly ruined.

"Hi, Kist," I said, curving an arm about his waist and drawing him closer. He was wearing dark pants and a red silk shirt—his usual casual clothes. "Thanks for letting me borrow your club," I added, tugging at him suggestively. Damn, I could really have used some alone time with him this Friday. The memory of Ivy's kiss intruded, then vanished.

His eyes dilated, and my pulse increased despite my efforts. A smile hovered over his features, and his look became more intent. "You can borrow a back room anytime," he said, his hand finding my waist with a comfortable familiarity before he leaned in for a quick kiss hello.

He was aiming at my lips, but, conscious of David, I turned and he got the corner of my mouth instead. His low growl of bother sent a spike of desire unexpectedly through me. He wasn't truly upset—more like amused—and I wondered if playing hard to get one night might be extremely fun. Or deadly.

"I'm… ah, sorry for postponing our date," I said when he leaned back, becoming flustered when he'd lingered a moment too long. "Let me know when you have another night free, and I'll get the reservation changed."

David gave Kisten an up-and-down look, then took his drink and moseyed down the bar to stare at the pictures. Blue eyes gazing up at the ceiling, Kisten ran a hand through his hair to leave it attractively tousled. "Oh," he teased, leaning against the bar to look alluring and in control. "My witch has enough clout to snag a reservation at the Tower whenever she wants." He held a hand to his chest. "My masculine pride is wounded. I had to make mine three months ago."

"It's not me," I said, pushing at his shoulder, but not hard enough to move him. "Trent is doing it. It was part of the deal that I work his wedding."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "The point is that it's done, and it was done—for you."

Not knowing what to say, I drank my tea. The melting ice shifted, and I almost got a lapful of it. "I'm really sorry," I said again, shaking the glass to get the ice to move. "I wouldn't have said yes to Trent, but he waved enough money at me to get the church resanctified," I finished sourly. My gaze went distant as I wondered if I should tell him about our encounter this morning, then decided against it. Maybe later, when we had more time.

Kisten bent to reach over the bar, and, realizing I was ogling him, I put my attention back on my drink and off his tight butt. Crap, the man knew how to dress to showcase himself.

"Forget it," he said when he settled himself on the stool beside me, a bowl of almonds in his hands. "Someday I'm going to have to cancel on you because of business, and then…" He popped a nut into his mouth and crunched through it. "… you're going to have to take it gracefully and not be a spastic girlfriend."

"Spastic girlfriend?" I huffed, realizing that his quick acceptance came from self-preservation, not understanding. Mildly ticked, I swiveled my stool, my fingers on my cold glass.

With a little hop as if having decided something, Kisten put a hand on my knee to stop my motion. "You want to come over tonight for dinner?" he said. As he leaned closer, his hair brushed against mine. "I've got to work tonight, but Steve can handle everything, and we can eat on my boat. No one will bother us unless it involves blood."

His shoulder was touching mine as I sat facing the bar, and his hand had curved around my back, his fingers playing with the hair over my left ear. My pulse quickened, and I was having a hard time remembering what I was upset about. His hand dropped lower, and his breath came and went upon my neck. The scar there didn't show anymore—lost under my perfect skin—but the vamp saliva the demon had pumped into me was still there.

"I've got something I'm dying to give you for your birthday," he said, his low voice heavy with intent. "If I'm not going to see you Friday, I want to give it to you… now."

The last word was almost a demand, and I shivered at the tension that pinged through me. Straightening, I licked my lips, turning to tuck my head beside his. I couldn't help but remember Ivy's kiss, and then I quashed the thought. "God, that feels good," I whispered.

"Mmmm." Kisten's touch on my neck took on the hints of massage, promising more than dinner. My breath grew fast, and I intentionally pulled in his scent. I didn't care that he was throwing off pheromones to lure me into making myself vulnerable. It felt too damn good, and I trusted him to not break my skin, substituting sex in place of his need for blood.

Fingertips playing with the hair above his neck, my shoulders relaxed and my gut tightened in anticipation. My unclaimed scars were both a pleasure and a pain, making me vulnerable to any vampire who knew how to stimulate them, but when in the hands of an expert, it made for insanely good bedroom play, and Kisten knew it all.

Thoroughly lost, I went to swing my left leg over his to pull him to me, then stopped, remembering where I was. Gathering my will, I pushed back from him, and Kisten chuckled, desire heady in his gaze. "Damn it, look what you did to me," I said. My face was warm, and my hand rested atop my neck, hiding it. "Don't you have napkins to fold or something?"

His grin was cocky as he leaned back and ate another almond. My fluster worsened when he glanced at David with an infuriating, satisfied-male look on his face. So he had gotten me hot and bothered. It wasn't hard to do when you knew what buttons to push, and my demon bite was a huge button, easy to hit and hard to miss. Plus, I loved him. "See you tonight?" he had the nerve to ask.

"Yes," I snapped, but I was looking forward to it already despite my embarrassment that David had seen the entire incident. Okay, I was a witch with a vampire boyfriend. What did he think we did on our dates? Play tiddledywinks?

The hum of Jenks's wings caught my attention, and the pixy landed lightly atop the dessert menu. "What's up, Rache?" he asked, angular features concerned. "You're all red."

"Nothing." I sipped my tea, the ice sliding down the glass and smacking my nose again. "You want some sugar water or peanut butter?" I asked as I set it down.

Kisten subtly moved himself farther onto his stool and away from me. Jenks's wings increased their hum. "You sure you're okay? You're not sick, are you? You're throwing off heat like you've got a fever. Let me feel your forehead," he said, rising into the air.

"I'm fine," I said, waving him off. "It's all this leather. What's Mr. Ray doing?"

Jenks saw Kisten smirking as he ate his almonds, then my hand covering my scar. The pixy's attention went to David, who now had his back to us. "Oh!" Jenks sang out, laughing. "Kisten got you worked up? You tell him about Ivy kissing you, and he had to prove himself? "