Jaw gritted, I felt his hands run over me. Where he touched, a warm tingling started, working its way to my middle. Not the scar, not the scar, I thought desperately, knowing what would happen if he touched it. The vamp pheromones were almost thick enough to see, and just the breeze from the fan was making a pleasant sensation run from my neck to my groin.

I shook in relief when his hands fell away. “The charm on your pinky,” he demanded, and I took it off, slapping it in his palm. He dropped it beside my gun. A tight look came into his eye as he stood before me. “If you move, you die,” he said.

I stared at him, not understanding.

Kist eased close, and my breath hissed. I could smell his tension, his wire-tight reactions balancing on the possibility of my next move. He sent his breath against my collarbone, and my thoughts jerked back to his lips brushing my ear four days ago. Head tilted, he looked down at me, hesitating, an empty look in his blue eyes, his hunger well-hidden.

Reaching up, he ran a finger from my ear, across my neck and the bumps of my scar.

My knees buckled. Sucking in air, I pulled myself upright, and with waves of need demanding to be met, I backhanded him. He caught my wrist before it landed, yanking me into him. Twisting, I swung my foot up. He caught it.

Kist jerked me off my feet and let go.

I fell on my can, the wooden floor bruising. I stared up at him as the vamps laughed. Kist’s face, though, was empty. No anger, no speculation. Nothing.

“You smell like Ivy,” he said as I got to my feet, my heart hammering. “You aren’t bound to her, though.” A sliver of satisfaction marred his stoic expression. “She couldn’t do it.”

“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.