“What are you talking about?” I snarled, embarrassed and angry as I brushed myself off.

His eyes narrowed. “It felt good, didn’t it? Me touching your scar? Once a vamp binds you by blood, only they can elicit that kind of a response. Who bit you and didn’t bother to claim you?” His face went thoughtful, and I thought I saw a glimmer of lust. “Or did you kill your attacker afterward to prevent being bound? You’re a bad little girl.”

I said nothing, letting him believe what he wanted, and he shrugged. “Since you aren’t tied to anyone, any vamp can entice that kind of reaction.” His eyebrows rose. “Any vamp,” he repeated, and a chill went through me at the thought of Piscary waiting for me. “You should have an interesting morning,” he added.

Vision clearing, he reached behind him and dragged my bag from the table. The vamps had begun to talk among themselves, making casual, unnerving speculations as to how long I would last. Kist pulled out the butcher knife first, and hooting laughter rippled over them. My gaze went over the destruction of Piscary’s as Kist set a handful of charms clattering on the table.

“Did Ivy do this?” I asked, trying to find a sliver of my confidence. The longer I kept them talking, the better the chance that Nick would get the FIB out there in time.

The vamp I had crotch-punched sneered. “In a manner of speaking.” He looked at Kist, and I thought I saw the blond vamp’s jaw clench. “Your roommate’s a good lay,” Samuel said, going smug as Kist’s breath quickened and his fingers digging through my bag became rough.

“Yeah,” Samuel continued in a good-old-boy’s drawl. “She and Piscary got the entire restaurant hopped-up on vamp pheromones. Ended up with three fights, a couple of bites.” He leaned against a table, crossed his arms and smirked. “Someone died and got carted off to the city’s temporary vaults. See? He got his picture on the wall and a coupon for a free dinner. We were damned lucky we figured out what was going on and got everyone not a vamp outta here before all hell broke loose. God help us if Piscary lost his MPL and had to reapply. Took him almost a year last time.” Samuel took a peanut from a bowl and threw it into the air, catching it with his mouth and grinning as he chewed.

Kist’s face was red with anger. “Shut up,” he said, pulling the ties to my bag closed.

“Whatsa matter?” Samuel mocked. “Just ’cause you never got Piscary that worked up doesn’t mean he’s gonna make her his scion.”

Kist stiffened. He hadn’t told anyone that Piscary already did. My eyes darted to him, his anger keeping my mouth shut.

“I said shut up,” Kist warned, the heat from him almost visible.