Must Love Fangs.

Sims, Jessica.

For Ilona.

Who always offers commentary on how to fix my plots . . . and never gets mad when I ignore her always excellent suggestions. That's true friendship!.

Thanks for being my sounding board for every book.

Chapter One.

When I was a child, my father used to let me stay up late to watch movies with him on Saturday nights. My father had stunningly bad taste in movies. His favorite? Mothra vs. Godzilla. I remembered being terrified of the massive, furious creatures that screamed and bellowed as they tore through Tokyo.

Those furious growls and outraged shrieks sounded a bit like what was going on right now in the Midnight Liaisons conference room. No laser beams shooting from eyes, but there was enough snarling to make any human feel on edge.

My boss, Bathsheba Russell, was perched on the corner of my desk, wringing her hands and staring at the front door.

It made it impossible to work, and I shoved my notepad under a stack of papers. "Something I can help with, Bath?"

She glanced over at me, startled, then shook her head. Another round of furious snarls came from the conference room, and she winced as the snarls turned into shouting. "No, I'm sure they'll be here soon."

Well, that was frustrating, and it didn't bode well for my own plans. I cast an oblique look over at my coworker, Ryder. She widened her eyes and gave me a helpless shrug, as if saying, What can you do?

Sure, Ryder didn't care if the boss stuck around for an extra hour or two. It wouldn't derail her night like it'd derail mine.

And I needed this night.

I needed every single day I had left. When you're dying, you tend to get a little pissy about wasted time.

The front door opened, and just like that, the conference room got quiet. I could practically hear their shifter ears straining to make out who had just entered. In walked a scowling, lanky young man, hand in hand with a pretty, but frightened, redhead. The girl stared at me fearfully, then looked at Bathsheba as if she'd been about to pounce.

"We're human," Bath said in a dry voice. "The ones you need to be scared of are in there." She gestured at the now-too-quiet conference room.

The boy braced his shoulders and pulled the woman under his protective arm. She went willingly, her face utterly pale. Poor thing. They marched forward toward the conference room.

"They look like they're heading to a funeral," I whispered to Bath.

"They might be," she whispered back. "Vic wants to kill him."

She flushed when the boy paused in front of the conference room and turned to glare at us.

No one said a thing as the conference room door opened. They stepped in. Closed the door. A pause.

And then tempers exploded all over again.

"How dare you turn a human?" roared Vic. The snarl of the tiger alpha's voice rose above all others. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"There's no one for us," the man shouted back. "There's no women my age. There's no women, period!"

"Then you use this goddamn agency and find yourself a date," Vic roared again.

"Let's calm down," Beau said firmly. The Alliance leader, a were-cougar and Bath's husband, was usually cool and in control of every situation, but he didn't sound calm now.

Vic gave another ear-shattering roar, and I heard the gulping cry of the woman.

"She's still thinking like a human," Bath said in irritation, getting to her feet. "And they're going to scare the shit out of her. I'm going in there."

As she moved toward the conference room, I took off my glasses and pretended to check them for smudges. Act calm. Easy. No problem.

But my heart was racing a mile a minute. My head throbbed with the adrenaline rush. I ignored it, just like I did all the other physiological symptoms lately. I didn't have time to mess with them.

Ryder pointed at her computer monitor, indicating that she was going to send me an instant message.

I turned to my screen and waited.

Yikes, she sent. It sounds like they might be in there awhile.

I typed back quickly. What exactly is going on? Did that guy really turn a human?

Yup, she sent back. I got here just as they were shoving Sara out the door. You know how B protects her. Ramsey, too.

Sara was Bath's quiet, delicate sister; she normally hung around the agency until her mate, Ramsey, a were-bear, picked her up in the evening. It seemed that Sara was a werewolf and everyone had known this but me. Humans, always the last to know. But since I worked at a dating agency that catered exclusively to the paranormal, it made sense that someone on staff would be, well, paranormal.

I glanced over at Ryder again. More than one someone. Sara was just out of the closet, but Ryder was still in hiding. I put my hands on the keyboard. So do you have the scoop?

Wellllll, Ryder typed. From what I've been able to overhear, it sounds like ol' Johnny fell in love with his girlfriend, and Uncle Vic in there did not approve. So Johnny turned her and decided to ask permission later. Can you believe that?

That was bad. Really bad. Humans weren't supposed to know about supernaturals unless they were allowed into the Alliance first. And every human who'd been allowed into the Alliance was currently in this office: me, Ryder, and Bathsheba.

For a supernatural (or "supe" as we liked to call them) to reveal their true nature to a human was against the rules. To reveal their true nature and then turn a human into a shifter was worse than bad. It caused all kinds of problems. What if they broke up? What were human parents supposed to do with a were-tiger daughter? Who was going to explain why their cute little Lola had to use a scratching post and went gonzo when the catnip was rolled out?

By revealing his true nature to a human, Johnny had endangered everyone in the Alliance. The network was built on a tenuous trust of the other species, and now that had been broken.

And it was going to play havoc with my plans.

As the yelling in the other room increased, I pulled my notepad out again and looked at the list I'd been working on.

Potential Supernaturals Were-anything Vampire I frowned, displeased at how very short it was. Perhaps I was forgetting something? "Hey, Ryder?"

"Hmm?" My coworker dragged her gaze away from the conference room, where it had gotten awfully quiet again.

I tapped my pencil on my desk, thinking as I stared down at the list. "Can you think of any supernaturals that can turn someone?"

"Turn someone?"

"You know, turn someone," I said. At her suspicious look, I pointed at the conference room, where a low rumbling argument between two men could be heard, interspersed by an occasional higher voice that was probably Bathsheba, trying to interject some common sense into the argument.

Ryder shook her head. "Bad timing," she mouthed. "Let it rest."

But I couldn't afford to let it rest. I stared down at the paper, thinking, as the voices now rose in the conference room.

"This is abominable!" Vic shouted. "A disgrace!"

Ooo, abominable made me think of yeti. Were-yeti? I wrote it down and put a question mark next to it. Then I scratched it out. No one in their right mind wanted to be a yeti. Gross.

I chewed my eraser, thinking. Fae? They were born, not made, but they were also secretive. Maybe they knew something- The bell clanged against the glass of the front door, signaling that someone had entered the office. I looked up, putting a smile on my face . . .

And sighed with dismay at the sight of the man strolling in. Joshua Russell, my least favorite client ever. "Hi, Josh," I said in my most bored voice.

He grinned, making a beeline for my desk.

Damn it. I sighed and pushed the notepad under a stack of reports again, then focused my attention on the tall, sexy man standing in front of my desk. My gaze was just at crotch height, which made things a bit awkward when I was trying to ignore the man.

Suddenly a large, perfect rose appeared under my nose. "For you, beautiful."

I pushed it aside. Some flirts never changed. "Nice try, Josh. I'm human, remember?"

"Yes, but you're an Alliance human. That's different," he said with a devastating grin that would have knocked the panties off any were-cat in the area. "Different is good."

"I have a pollen allergy," I lied in my stiffest voice and gave him a prim look.

He sighed as if defeated, but sauntered over to Ryder's desk instead, presenting her with the flower. She looked up from her reports, grinned at him, and took the flower with a wink.

Good. Maybe he'd leave me alone now.

Like the other big cats his entire clan was infamous for, Joshua Russell was a mix of power and playfulness. I studied him under my lashes as he chatted with Ryder, leaning over her desk. His brown hair was cropped short, just barely a buzz under his black Russell Security baseball cap. There was an attractive hint of scruff on his strong jaw, as if he'd forgotten to shave. Like all of the Russell were-cougars, he had strong, masculine features. Where his brother Beau's features were a little more refined, more stern, Josh's seemed to be made for laughing. He had a ridiculous dimple in one cheek that flashed now and then, and his eyes were an unfair shade of blue, framed by lashes thick enough to make any woman jealous. His shoulders were big and brawny, and when he wore a tight shirt-like he was today-you could see the outlines of his pectorals and the bulge of his biceps. Yet these almost paled in comparison to his deliciously tight ass, which was currently pointed toward my desk. I stared at it. What a shame that such a beautiful piece of male flesh was attached to such an overt horn-dog.

He glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch me staring at his ass. I flushed and averted my gaze, but not before I caught his grin.

Damn it.

I sighed inwardly as he strolled back to my desk and dropped into the chair across from me. I shot him an irritated glance. "Can I help you with something?"

"I think I caught you checking me out, Marie."

"You did not," I said stiffly.

"It's fine if you can't admit it." He leaned forward and whispered, "I'm told my ass is quite biteable."

I leaned toward him in return. "Your mom doesn't count."

Josh grinned, then sniffed the air and slid my notepad out from underneath the pile of paper.

How the hell had he known that was there? I tried to snatch it back, but I was too slow. Josh held it aloft, then stood, reading it aloud. "Potentials-vampires, were-anything, fae. Yeti?" He glanced over at me. "Grocery list?"

"I'm helping a client decide who to date," I said, holding my hand out for the pad.

He waved it at me. "You're not being very choosy for your client here. Were-anything?"

"Just give it back," I snapped. "And tell me why you're here so I can get you out the door and get on with my life. Do you need a date? There's a shock."

"Ah, a date," Josh said, dropping the list onto my desk and slouching back in the chair again. He gave me a thoughtful look, those long lashes over his gorgeous eyes making him look sleepy-or sexy-or both. His gaze was intense, but his smile was disarming. "You think I should? I'm still avoiding the last girl."

I snorted. The last girl he'd dated hadn't been too thrilled when Josh had never called her back. She'd called me to gripe about it, since I was the one that had paired the two of them.

I reached for the list again and he pulled it out of reach, waggling his eyebrows at me. Ugh. Determined, I got up, moved around the desk, and snatched the list back out of his hands.

As I stalked back to my chair, I eyed him. "You should try dating someone more than once. Don't quote me on it, but I hear that's how you have a relationship."

He didn't seem deterred by my waspish tone. "And you're the relationship expert? How long have you dated your boyfriend?"

I had no boyfriend. "I don't date."

"All the more reason you should date me. I'd change your mind."

"I especially don't date clients."

"First time for everything."

Criss, I cussed mentally in my mother's French. Talking to him was like running in circles. I turned to my computer and began to type in his profile number. He came in so often that I had it memorized. At least, that's what I told myself. "How about a were-jaguar?"

"Too pushy. I like girls that are a little tart but melt in my arms."

I rolled my eyes. Oh brother. "Harpy?"

"Pottymouth."

"Dryad?"

"All they want to do is hike. I'm more of a 'curl up in front of the fire and get to know each other' kind of guy."

I'd just bet he was. "Fae?"

"Too delicate. I like a girl I can grab."

Oh, you are a pig. "Vampire?"

He touched his nose. "Not a fan of the dead smell."

I turned from my keyboard in exasperation. "Why don't you tell me what you're looking for, and I'll see if we have a profile that might match that description?"