Jenks took off with a yelp, but my eyes closed as I returned Steve’s embrace, pulling his luscious scent of incense and vamp pheromones deep into me. God, he smelled good. Almost as good as Kisten. “Hi, Steve,” I said, feeling tingles at my vamp scar and putting space between us. “How ticked is Kisten that I asked to borrow the bar for a few hours?”

Kisten’s assistant manager/bouncer gave me a final squeeze and let go. “Not at all,” he said, a devious glint in his eyes. They were dilated more than the low light warranted, and his toothy smile probably owed to the fact that he knew I was enjoying breathing him in. “He’s looking forward to taking the rental fee for the back room out of your hide.”

“I’ll bet,” I said dryly, my hands falling to my sides. “Ah, this is David, my alpha,” I said, remembering the man behind me. “And you know Jenks.”

David leaned forward, his hand extended and the hem of his duster furling. “Hue,” David said, his face melancholy. “David Hue. It’s good to meet you.”

Steve’s gaze flicked from him to me and back again, silently remarking on David’s depression. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hue,” the vampire said earnestly. “I heard that Rachel had taken up a pack. It’s the rare man who can get her to let him put a claim on her.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed, swatting Steve’s shoulder with the back of my hand. But Steve caught it, his eyes flashing black as he kissed the tips of my fingers.

I forgot what I was going to yell at him when the hard coolness of his teeth grazed my skin. A shiver lifted through me, and I blinked, his eyes fixed on me from under his lowered brow. “Stop that,” I said, and drew away.

Steve smiled at me like I was his little sister, and David pulled out of his funk to stare at me. “Mr. Ray is here already,” the vamp said. “He’s in the back with six men, waiting for you.”

Six men? Why did he bring that many? He doesn’t know Mrs. Sarong is coming, does he? “Thanks,” I said, setting my coat on the bar when Steve started drifting away. “You mind if we wait here until Mrs. Sarong arrives?”

“Not at all.” He pulled a stool out from the bar for me. “What can I get you and Mr. Hue?” He glanced at the melancholy Were. “I won’t tell the I.S. if you don’t.”

David leaned against the bar. His brown eyes were everywhere, and he looked like a gunslinger coming in from the prairie. “Water, please,” he said, not aware I was watching him. It must be tearing him apart, having caused those women’s deaths, even if indirectly.