Bones almost smiled. “You want the evolutionary or the creationist version?”

I thought for a second. “Creationist. I’m a believer.”

Our feet made little staccato noises as we kept heading downstairs, and he kept his voice low. The stairwell made for echoes, and though it was late at night, there was no need to alarm someone accidentally overhearing.

“We began with two brothers who had different lives and functions, and one was jealous of the other. So jealous, in fact, that it led to the world’s first murder. Cain killed Abel, and God drove him out, but not before putting a mark upon him to make him distinguishable from everyone else.”

“Genesis, Chapter Four,” I breathed. “Mom was big on me learning the Bible.”

“This next part wasn’t in any Bible you read,” he went on, casting me those sideways glances. “The ‘mark’ was his transformation into becoming undead. For his punishment in spilling blood, he was forced to drink it for the rest of his days. Cain later regretted killing his brother and he created his own people, his own society that existed on the fringe of the one he’d been expelled from. The children he ‘reproduced’ were vampires, and they made others of their kind, and so on. Of course, if you ask a ghoul, they have a different version. They say Cain was turned into a ghoul, not a vampire. Been a cause of bickering ever since about who was first, but Cain isn’t around to settle that.”

“What happened to him?”

“He’s the undead version of the Man Upstairs. Watching over his children in the shadows. Who knows if he really is? Or if God finally considered his debt paid and took him back?”

I mulled this over. Bones picked up his pace.

“Makes you think your mum is right, doesn’t it?” he asked jadedly. “That we’re all murderers? We’re the offspring of the world’s first, unless you side with the notion that vampires and ghouls are a random evolutionary mutation.”

I kept up with him. Twelfth floor…eleventh…tenth…

“The first of my kind has gotten a lot of shit for what she did also,” I finally said with a shrug. “That whole apple business makes it harder for me to criticize.”

He laughed-and then whirled me up in his arms so fast, my feet were still flexing for another step. His mouth crushed down on mine, taking my breath away, and the same mindless compulsion that had led me to act so bizarrely upstairs manifested in another form. My arms went around his neck, my legs wrapped around his waist, and I kissed him as if by willpower alone I could erase the memory of every woman before me.

I heard a rip. Felt the wall at my back, and then the next moment, he was inside me.

I clung to him, nails digging into his back with mounting need, mouth locked onto his throat to stifle my cries. He moaned into my skin, free hand tangled in my hair as he moved faster, deeper. There was no gentleness to him, but I wanted none, exulting in the unbridled passion between us.

Everything inside me suddenly clenched, and then relinquished in a rush of ecstasy that streamed down to my toes. Bones cried out as well, and a few shattering minutes later relaxed against me.

There was a creak, a gasp, and him snapping, “Walk away, you’ve seen nothing!” before a door slammed. That’s when the haze lifted and a tidal wave of embarrassment swept over me.

“My God, what is the matter with me?”

I pushed at him, and he set me on my feet with a lingering kiss.

“Not a bloody thing, if you ask me.”

My jeans were torn from zipper to thigh. Whoever had tried to enter the stairwell was long gone, but I was still cringing with shame at the glimpse that person had caught. Who’s the slut now, huh? Hypocrite!

“First I publicly grope you, almost stab our potential Judas, then, for the grand finale, I molest you in a stairwell! And I thought you behaved rudely with Timmie! You should demand an apology!”

Bones chuckled, taking his jacket off and placing it around me. It covered the tear in my pants, at least. His own clothing hadn’t been damaged. After all, the man never wore underwear himself, so he’d only needed to pull down a zipper.

“You didn’t molest me, and I will never ask you to apologize for tonight. Any of it. I’m relieved, to be frank.”

“Relieved?” I glanced at the front of him. “I guess that’s one way to put it…”

“Not that.” Another amused snort. “Though it applies there as well. Do you know what you acted like tonight? Like a vampire. We’re territorial, every last one of us, which is why I had such a harsh reaction when I saw Timmie gaze at you with those smitten-calf eyes. Your similar, decidedly hostile response with Francesca showed me…that you consider me to be yours. I have wondered what you felt for me, Kitten. Hoped you cared beyond mere rapport or physical attraction, and so while I assure you that you have nothing to fear from her, I was selfishly pleased to see how deep your emotions ran.”

I stared at him in silence. There were so many things I wanted to say. Like, How could you think what I feel for you is only physical? or, Don’t you know you’re my best friend? and finally, Bones, I love-

“I think we should get out of here,” was what I settled on, cowardly. “Before you have to green-eye anyone else out of reporting us to the police.”

He smiled, and it could have been my guilt, but I thought it was a trifle sad. “It’s all right, Kitten. I’m not demanding anything. You don’t have to fret.”

I took his hand, not caring about the difference in temperature and scared as hell that I didn’t care about it anymore.

“Are you really mine?” I couldn’t stop from asking.

Those cool fingers squeezed gently. “Of course I am.”

I squeezed back, but with more strength.

“I’m glad.”

NINETEEN

T HE CLOCK STRUCK ELEVEN AND CAT THE vampire huntress was on the loose, except my battle armor was a push-up bra, curled hair, and a short dress. Yeah, it was a dirty job, but I was going to do it. Come one, come all, bloodsuckers! Bar’s open!

Hennessey was still on the lookout to restock his supplies. After ten days of spying, Francesca had confirmed that. It was the same thing we’d heard from Lola and Charlie, so no real shocker there, but what she did relay in her most recent surreptitious phone call was noteworthy. She’d overheard one of Hennessey’s men refer to a mysterious human partner as “Your Honor.” It could be a sarcastic title, but considering the tampered police records and Hennessey’s new method of preventing disappearances from being reported, Bones thought differently. He figured it was a judge, maybe from Columbus, where most of the evidence-tampering had taken place. We were working that angle, but there was the other one as well. When you were looking to catch someone who didn’t want to be caught, you needed bait. Bait placed out temptingly for the still-unknown Switch or Hennessey to try and snatch. That’s where I came in. During the day I went to college, but at night I made my rounds at all of the easy-sleazy bars and clubs we could hit. Did I mention it was a dirty job?

“Catherine? My God, Catherine, is that you?”

Huh? No one called me that name except for my family, and certainly none of them were here. Yet there was something familiar about that voice.

I pivoted around in my chair, and the glass I’d been protecting from any added chemicals crashed to the floor. Six years later and still I knew him at a glance.

Danny Milton stood in front of me, openmouthed at my appearance in my tight silver dress and knee-high boots. The black leather gloves that were my standard matched my heart when I saw his gaze drop from my face to my cleavage and back again.

“Wow, Catherine, you look…wow!”

Either he was truly speechless at my appearance or college literary classes had not been kind. My eyes narrowed as I considered my options. One: Put a stake through his heart. Appealing, but morally incorrect. Two: Ignore him and hope he went away. Possible, but too kind. Three: Order another drink and throw it in his face while thanking him for the memories. Deserved, but too flashy. I wasn’t looking to draw unwanted attention or get thrown out of the place. That only left Option Two. Damn, that was the least satisfying of them all.