His shoulder was too close to mine, but I wouldn’t shift away and let him know it bothered me. I snuck a glance at him as he breathed with a heavy slowness, his eyes scanning the patrons even as he took in my scent to gauge my state of unease. Twin diamond earrings glittered from one ear, and I remembered the other had only one stud and a healed tear. A chain made out of the same stuff as Ivy’s was the only hint of his usual bad-boy attire. I wondered what he was doing here. There were better places for a living vamp to pick up a date/snack.

His fingers moved with a restless motion, always pulling my eyes back to him. I knew he was throwing off vamp pheromones to soothe and relax me—all the better to eat you with, my dear—but the prettier they are, the more defensive I get. My face went slack as I realized I had matched my breathing to his.

Subtle bespelling at its finest, I thought, purposely holding my breath to get us out of sync, and I saw him smile as he ducked his head and ran a hand over his chin. Normally only an undead vampire could bespell the unwilling, but being Piscary’s scion gave Kist a portion of his master’s abilities. He wouldn’t dare try it here, though. Not with Ivy watching from the bar around her bottled water.

I suddenly realized he was rocking, moving his hips with a steady, suggestive motion. “Stop it,” I said as I turned to face him, disgusted. “There’s an entire string of women watching you at the bar. Go bother them.”

“It’s much more fun to bother you.” Taking my scent deep into him, he leaned close. “You still smell like Ivy, but she hasn’t bitten you. My God, you are a tease.”

“We’re friends,” I said, affronted. “She’s not hunting me.”

“Then she won’t mind if I do.”

Annoyed, I pulled away. He followed me until my back found a support post. “Stop moving,” he said as he put his hand against the thick post beside my head, pinning me though air still showed between us. “I want to tell you something, and I don’t want anyone else to hear it.”

“Like anyone could hear you over the noise,” I scoffed, the fingers behind my back bending into a fist that wouldn’t make my nails cut my palm if I had to slug him.

“You might be surprised,” he murmured, his eyes intent. I fixed on them, looking for and recognizing the barest hint of swelling black, even as his nearness sent a promise of heat from my scar. I’d lived long enough with Ivy to know what a vamp looked like when they were close to losing it. He was fine, his instincts curbed and his hunger sated.