You aren’t kidding, I thought, wondering what kind of a mess Kisten was going to find himself in if Piscary got out. I wasn’t the only one the master vampire had unfinished business with. And while Piscary could hurt Kisten while he was still in prison, I had a feeling that the undead vampire enjoyed drawing out the fear of the unknown. He might forgive Kisten for giving me Egyptian embalming fluid to incapacitate him, seeing the betrayal as the act of an unruly, rebellious child. Maybe. Me, he was just ticked at.

His shoes scuffing, David came forward. “David. David Hue,” he said, eyes pinched. “Can we please get this over with?”

Glenn shook his hand, his expressive face turning to a professional detachment I knew he used so he could sleep at night. “Of course, Mr. Hue,” he said. The FIB detective glanced at Iceman, and the college kid tossed him the Bite-Me-Betty doll with the key. As he caught it, the rims of the upright, meticulous FIB officer’s ears darkened in embarrassment.

“Rachel?” Kisten murmured as we all headed that way. “Ah, if you can get a ride home with David, I need to fly on out of here.”

I stopped. Glenn turned from holding the door open for me. Through it I could see the comfortable seating arrangement and Iceman’s work partner puttering around with a clipboard, peering over his glasses at us. Kisten is afraid of the dead?

“Kisten…” I coaxed, not believing it. I had wanted to stop at The Big Cherry on the way home to pick up Glenn’s tomato fix, at a charm shop for the lilac wine, and just about anywhere for a box of birthday candles for me in the hopes that a cake might be in my future. But Kisten backed up a step.

“Really,” he said. “I have to go. There’s some rare cheese coming in today, and if I’m not there to sign for it, I’ll have to go to the post office and pick it up.”

Rare cheese, my ass. And I hate not having my own car. Hip cocked, I took a breath to complain, but David interrupted with an easy, “I’ll get you home, Rachel.”

Kisten’s eyes were pleading. Giving up, I muttered, “Go on. I’ll call you later.”

He jiggled on his feet, his usual poise gone to make him look charmingly vulnerable. Leaning in, he gave me a quick kiss on my neck. “Thanks, love,” he whispered. His hand on my shoulder tightened, and with a quick hint of teeth he sent a spike of desire to my core.

“Stop that,” I whispered, gently pushing him away and feeling myself flush.

Grinning, he retreated. With a self-assured nod to the rest of the men, he stuck his hands into his pockets and sauntered out.