“You’re deluded,” she said, pulling back sharply. “That’s what you are, McKnight. Blind-ass dumb and deluded. And even if I was interested in you—which I’m not—but if I was, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to get involved with you again. Especially now. Didn’t I already tell you this? You know it as much as I do. We’ve got too much to do. And come on.” She mustered up a disgusted glare. “There might be a little something there, between us, okay. But it’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” he argued.

“Nothing.” She picked up the forgotten bedding and tossed it to him again, pointing to the chair. Then she turned to Bruno and pointed to the rug. “As for you, you sleep there.” He cocked his head and thumped his tail, but didn’t move.

Jay whistled. “Here, boy,” he said, and Bruno ambled to the rug. “The boss has spoken.”

Kristi ignored the jab. “The way I see it, we don’t have much time. I figure whoever was here earlier was looking for the vial. I bet he’s not giving up. I bet he’s going to strike again and soon.”

“And maybe you’re his next target.” Jay’s tone had changed from playful to serious. “That could be the reason he was here earlier.”

“No.”

“Let’s hope not.” He patted the dog’s head absently, then walked to the bike and rolled it in front of the door. He propped the frame against the jamb and lever, ensuring that it would fall over and crash loudly should anyone try to enter. Once the bike was balanced to his satisfaction, Jay turned and looked at the ceiling, as if searching for divine intervention. Shaking his head, he said, “I should have my head examined, but you win.” His eyes returned to hers, their amber irises steady with determination. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. I won’t call the police. For now. You’ve got one week and not a second more.”

Could she go through with it?

Ariel looked around her small apartment and wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Sure, she’d needed friends and the rush of being in some exclusive, secret cult. She’d even loved all the vampire stuff that went along with it.

She’d never felt so alive as when she’d allowed “the master” to bite into her neck, to let some of the blood flow out and to collect those drops into a vial.

The ritual had been exciting, the feeling of belonging, of doing something dark and sensual and out of the norm, seductive. To have been chosen had been heady and she finally, for the first time in her life, felt like she was someone, that she belonged, that she was even better than a lot of her peers.

Now, she had doubts.