“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.

I was reasonably safe, so I relaxed, easing my shoulders down. His lust-reddened lips parted in surprise at my acceptance at how close he was. Eyes bright, he breathed languorously slow, tilting his head and leaning in so his lips brushed the curve of my ear. The light shimmered on the black chain around his neck, drawing my hand up. It was warm, and that surprise kept my fingers playing with it when I should have stopped.

The clatter of dishes and conversation retreated as I exhaled into his soft, unrecognizable whisper. A delicious feeling ran through me, sending the sensation of molten metal through my veins. I didn’t care that it was from him triggering my scar into play; it felt so good. And he hadn’t even said a word I recognized yet.

“Sir?” came a hesitant voice from behind him.

Kist’s breath caught. For three heartbeats he held himself still, unmoving as his shoulders tensed in annoyance. My hand dropped from his neck.

“Someone wants you,” I said, looking beyond him to the host, shifting nervously. A smile edged over me. Kist was tempting a break in the MPL, and someone had been sent to rein him in. Laws were good things. They kept me alive when I did something stupid.

“What,” Kist said flatly. I’d never heard his voice carry anything but sultry petulance before, and the power in it sent a jolt through me, its unexpectedness making it all the more demanding.

“Sir, the party of Weres upstairs? They’re starting to pack.”

Oh? I thought. That was not what I had expected.

Kist straightened his elbow and pushed away from the post, irritation flickering across him. I took a clean breath, my unhealthy disappointment mixing with a distressingly small waft of self-preserving relief.

“I told you to tell them we were out of bane,” Kist said. “They came in reeking of it.”