"They consider her to be 'not enough' supernatural presence. Sure, she's a shifter, but she was human, and she's a werewolf, and that's two strikes against her." Bath sounded tired. "Beau's refusing to shut us down, but right now it's best if we lay low."

"I see," I said, trying not to panic. If we were shut down, I wouldn't have access to the Alliance database to find my vampire. "So we'd be unemployed just because we're human? That's totally unfair."

"And it doesn't help that people are starting crazy rumors, too."

Uh-oh. "Crazy rumors?"

"That we're setting them up with humans and trying to pass them off as shifters. Two months ago, everyone wanted a human. Now everyone just wants to keep things separate. Long story short, no more callouts for now. If they want our services, we'll let them come to us."

"Gotcha," I said, feeling sick. I had a sneaking suspicion that someone had leaked that they'd either seen me on a date, or one of my dates had let it slip that I was human. Damn it. I needed to talk to Josh. This was going to put a massive kink in my plans.

I texted him. Where are you tonight?

Busy for the next few nights, beautiful, he sent back immediately. You won't forget me, will you?

So I won't see you for a few days? I have a date tonight. I thought you were going to be my wingman. And by wingman, I mean hover unseen like an over-protective older brother.

The next text came back right away. Jesus, Marie. Way to kill a guy's boner. Don't ever call me your brother again.

And then, So who's the date with?

Some vampire named Andre. He was on your "maybe" list, remember?

His next text came almost ten minutes later, and I spent the entire time tapping my fingers impatiently. I don't know.

Why? What's wrong with him?

Sorry. Busy. Gimme a few. Busting a few heads right now.

He came back a few minutes later with Nothing's exactly wrong with him, other than he's a vampire. I've worked for him before. He's quiet. Doesn't say much. Very polite.

This didn't sound like a problem to me. So what's the issue?

The issue is that I'm working for the next several nights and I can't be there to protect you.

You don't have to be there.

In fact, it might be best if he wasn't. His getting possessive wasn't going to help me, yet I enjoyed it far too much.

And that was a problem.

His next text came a few minutes later. Just . . . go someplace really public and be careful. And text me when you're done to let me know how it goes.

I promise, I sent back. Who knows, maybe this one won't be a dud.

I hope he is. You'll have no choice but to fall into my arms.

That made me smile.

I decided to follow Josh's advice about the venue. Someplace public. Someplace noisy and crowded. And someplace close enough to the office that I could sprint back at a moment's notice. In other words, Greek food at Konstantine's.

I was more conservative in my clothing, too. I wore a bra with the tight pink boatneck sweater, and an equally black tight skirt that gave me an overtly feminine flair without saying, Please suck on my neck right now. I'd borrowed the clothes from Ryder, and I wore high heels. After all, I wanted to seem interested.

I fidgeted at the table, waiting for my date to arrive. Was I going to get stood up again? I checked my watch. He was ten minutes late-not a good sign. To my horror, I started to have another vision-blurring spell. They were hallucinations, I knew. Last time I'd gone to sleep, I'd spent half the time staring at walls that had seeped blood. Willing my brain to stop sending me the horrible visions, I'd known that it was just another stage in my slow decline, but that hadn't made things any easier. The hallucinations would keep coming, and eventually I wouldn't be able to tell reality from fiction.

Worst of all, there was no one I could talk to about it. My burdens were mine alone, and sometimes it felt crushing. But I'd made the choice to handle this on my own-a choice I just regretted in weak moments.

Maybe I could tell Josh. Sure, he was reckless and flirty and needed his ego reined in, but . . . I liked him. I felt safe with him. Maybe because we'd been spending so much time together. I pulled out my phone and started a text to him, then stopped.

If I told him, he'd stop flirting with me. Sick wasn't sexy. A dying girl wouldn't pique his interest. If I told him the truth, our flirty friendship would disappear.

I put my phone away.

"Minnie?"

I looked up at the sound of the male voice and stared. The man in front of me was gorgeous. Tall and athletically slim, he had short, straight blond hair that was slicked back from a widow's peak, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. He was smiling at me, and I noticed that his canines were only slightly longer than they should have been.

"I'm Andre."

"Oh, wow," I said, unable to hide my smile. I stood up and extended my hand. "Hi. I'm Minnie."

"Wow?" he asked with a grin.

I was charmed by that toothy smile. Everything was out in the open with him-he didn't hide his fangs under a close-lipped smirk like the last guy. It made me feel like I could trust him. "You just look . . . better than I expected," I said honestly.

"The vampire thing?" he asked delicately, though the grin remained on his face.

Oh, I must have offended him. "No," I said quickly. "The dating service thing. I seem to strike out a lot."

"I can't imagine why," he said, moving behind my chair to push it in for me. "You look just fine to me."

"Thank you," I murmured, and sat down. He moved back to the other side of the table and sat down across from me. As one of the waiters zoomed past, Andre raised a hand to call him over. Cuff links glinted, and I studied his clothing. He was wearing a dark gray suit jacket over a lighter dress shirt. Nice togs.

For some reason I thought of Josh's endless T-shirts and jeans, then I shook the thought away. Thinking about him on my date wasn't going to help me with anything.

"A bottle of red wine, please." Andre glanced over at me, the polite smile remaining in place. "If that's all right."

"Wine's fine," I agreed. Heck, I was just happy that my date was going to drink instead of stare at my neck all night. When the waiter left, I clasped my hands in my lap to stop their nervous twitching. "So, Andre, what do you do?"

He blinked at me, puzzled.

Merde. I must have said something wrong. "I'm sorry. Old money?"

"Oh," he said with a slow laugh. "Yes. Sorry. I didn't understand the question at first. It's not really done in my circles."

"I'm sorry," I said, wishing I could crawl under the table. Embarrassment made my cheeks hot. "I didn't realize."

"Guess it's a big deal with were-otters?" He gave me an assessing look.

"Overprotective parents," I lied with a smile.

"I can only imagine," Andre said easily, glancing up at the waiter as he placed two wineglasses on the table. We waited in companionable silence as the waiter popped the cork and began to pour. When he'd left again, Andre picked up his glass and raised it to me. "Toast?"

I raised my glass and looked at him expectantly.

"To the start of something delicious," Andre said.

Now that was something I could get behind. I clinked my glass to his and took a drink.

"Shall we order?" Andre said, picking up his menu.

I glanced down at mine and sucked in a small breath. The letters on the menu blurred and bled off the page, my eyes doing that weird thing again. I closed them for a minute, and then gave Andre what I hoped was a helpless, feminine smile. "Will you order for me?"

He looked pleased. "But of course."

Dinner went well. Better than well. Andre was cultured and polite, and very amusing. For every topic we touched upon, he had an interesting story to tell. I learned that he was four hundred years old, owned a nearby art gallery that he'd purchased some fifty years ago, and loved classical music. He hated modern music, television, and cell phones, but he adored modern cars, especially sports cars.

I did my best to keep the conversation focused on him, all the better to not have to make up an elaborate story about my fictional self. Andre seemed more than happy to talk about himself. The date went on for hours as we chatted, and we slowly went through the bottle of wine. Inside my purse, my phone buzzed over and over with texts, but I ignored it.

My date was going great. Hell, yes, I thought, smiling at Andre over my glass. I had this one in the bag.

"So, Minnie." Andre tilted his wineglass and smiled at me. "I have to ask. You're young. You're very pretty. And female shifters are in quite a lot of demand, I hear. What made you decide to look . . . elsewhere?"

Basically, Why are you dating a vampire?

I thought for a minute, remembering Josh's words. Vampires were predators. They liked the chase. I needed to give him something to hook his interest without scaring him off.

I bit my lip, and his attention immediately fell to my mouth. Ah. Vampires. Biting fetish. I'd keep that in mind for later. I bit my lip for a bit longer, then gave him what I hoped passed for a shy smile. "Most of the men in my clan are rather young, and the older ones are domineering. I like men with experience, but I don't like the brutish alpha attitudes."

He smiled and gave the barest of nods. "Culture can be hard to find, sometimes. It's a good thing we've met, then."

Oddly enough, that made me think of Josh, with his baseball cap and his sly, knowing grin. He was the opposite of cultured, but he was utterly delicious.

I pushed the thought away. "I can honestly say that I am incredibly pleased to meet you, Andre."

His smile deepened. "The feeling is mutual."

I snuck back to the agency an hour later, slightly tipsy and giddy with how well my date had gone. Things were looking up. Way, way up.

"How'd it go?" Ryder asked as soon as I walked through the door.

"Like a charm!" I told her.

And then I blacked out.

"Marie? Marie!" A warm hand patted my cheek frantically. "Wake up, girl."

I put a hand up and batted the patting one away. Then I cracked my eyes open and stared into Ryder's concerned face, and the office ceiling above her. What was I doing on the floor? My body throbbed in places that shouldn't have been injured, but I couldn't remember falling.

"Mmm. What happened?"

She sat back on her haunches and shook her head. "How about you tell me?"

I sat up, wincing, and rubbed my forehead. "I must have fainted."

"Did you drink too much?" Ryder's gaze was obviously concerned. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

I waved it off. "No, no. I'm fine." The ambulance can't do anything for me.

She looked at me dubiously.

"I'm serious. I'm fine." To prove it, I got to my feet, wobbly in the high heels.

Ryder helped me up, and I moved toward my desk. As soon as I sat down she leaned over me, brushing lint and dirt off the sweater I'd borrowed. "You sure you're okay?"

I gave her a wry smile. "It's nothing that a good night's sleep wouldn't cure." I raised a pinky into the air and looked at her. "Pinky swear that this goes on the list of dirty secrets known only to you and me?"

She sighed but hooked her pinky in mine. "Pinky swear. I just worry about you, Marie."

"I know you do. But I need this to stay a secret, Ryder. It's important."

She sighed heavily. "It'll stay under the pinky rules. Just be careful with yourself."

And that was why Ryder was my best friend.

She insisted on getting me a drink of water, then she went back to her desk. I clicked over to my Minnie profile to log my date-a requirement of all participants in the Midnight Liaisons dating service-and noticed that I already had a message.

From Andre.

I clicked on it, feeling a flutter of excitement in my breast.

Beautiful Minnie. It was an utter pleasure to meet you this evening. I feel incredibly lucky that I had the opportunity to go out with you, and would love to make lightning strike twice. I'd love to see you again. Say, Friday? You pick the venue. All my devotion, Andre.

If I could have stood up, I would have done a touchdown dance. I might not die after all!

Despite my pounding headache, I was so excited that I could barely concentrate on work. I quickly accepted Andre's request for a second date. After that, I threw myself into updating files and answering emails, logging information and keeping busy. All the while, my brain was racing a mile a minute.

This could really happen. I was one step closer to getting someone to turn me!

By the time the morning shift got to the office, I was so wired with excitement that I bounded to my car and sped all the way home.