The defiance on her sweat-streaked, pale face brought a crooked grin to Max’s lips. If she was well enough to be a pain in the ass, she might not be in such bad shape, after all. “The first one is you can either hook up with me and help figure out what’s going on with Nathan—”

“And be renounced by the Movement.”

He resisted the urge to growl at her; it might be considered foreplay to her kind. “God forbid that happen. I mean, they’re only going to kill me. What will they do to you, fire you?”

“Point taken.” She narrowed her eyes. “Continue.”

“Or you can stay here until I can get the situation under control. It’s up to you.” He rose and stretched, giving his gently phrased threat a moment to sink in.

It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped for, though in hindsight it had been stupid of him to think she would bend easily.

“Do you think you can keep me here against my will?” She glared at him. “You have to sleep sometime.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the handcuffs he’d tucked there. He’d found them in Nathan’s closet while looking for the first aid kit, and while he didn’t want to speculate on why they’d been there in the first place, he was glad to have found them. Her eyes widened as he dangled the shining restraints from his forefinger. “I’ll even let you pick where I lock you up, baby.”

“I will tear you apart,” she threatened, the last of her words turning into a growl as they escaped her throat.

“Bad dog,” he admonished, twirling the cuffs around his finger. “You’re not doing anything of the sort. At least, not in the state you’re in.”

He’d expected, hell, even looked forward to, the venom she should have spewed at him, but she only closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with a weary sigh. “You are right. I cannot fight you. Yet.”

“So, I take it we’re going with option number two?” He sighed. “Remember, it was your choice.”

“And remember, there is still one night of the full moon. I might forget the code of my people, just this once.” Her tone was pure hatred poured into words.

He shook his head. “Sorry, honey. Max Harrison is not going out as dog food.”

If looks could kill, the one she gave him would have been a wooden stake. “I would not eat you. Your flesh would taste like carrion.”

“You wound, lady,” he mocked, laying his hand over his heart.

She held her wrists out resolutely. “Close to the toilet, please.”

Max returned the cuffs to his pocket and went to examine the shelves on the far side of the room. “I won’t lock you up until I’m ready for some shut-eye.”