"He nearly blinded me with that glowing skin thing," she said stiffly. "I mean, really. How annoying is that?"

"He glowed?" Claire asked, brow puckering.

The three women shared a strange look, as though silently asking each other if Devyn had glowed for them. Each one shook her head no.

He hadn't glowed for them?

"Tell us more," Madison pleaded.

The words tumbled from her before she could stop them. "He tried to make me beg for it, but I refused. He gave it to me anyway, but he wouldn't let me leave afterward. And when I tried to walk away, he tightened his hold. Talk about frustrating!" See, she wanted to shout. He's not a prize. He was domineering and too determined to have his way.

One by one, the women straightened. They shared another look. A look of wonder, this time.

"What?" she demanded, wiping at the sweat on her brow with the back of her wrist. Her hand was trembling.

Ann was the first to shake off the awe. "He held you? After he finished with you?"

"Yes." Why were the lights in the cell suddenly winking on and off? Light, dark, light, dark. And why didn't the agents seem to notice?

"He couldn't get his clothes on fast enough with me," Madison said with a pout.

"Two seconds after he came, he thanked me and rolled from the bed," Claire said. "He was out the door a minute after that."

Both females sounded like they stood at the end of a tunnel, their voices thick and distant, slowed.

"He did me up against a wall and patted my head when he was done. Then he walked away and never looked back." Ann sounded closer, but no less slurred. "'Course, I couldn't chase him because I was boneless, completely sated." She paused. "Bride, are you okay? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look terrible."

They watched her with expectation, waiting for her reply. About Devyn? About her health? She didn't know what to say. Clearly they thought it was a miracle that Devyn had stayed with her after his climax, but they couldn't know that he'd had nowhere else to go. That he'd been waiting for Macy. That he hadn't trusted Bride to stay put.

He didn't like her, not the way they thought. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone on a date with another female. He would have been here, claiming his kisses. Feeding her that delicious blood. Blood ... Need blood.

"Bride?"

Dizziness flooded her mind, her thoughts breaking apart, unable to realign themselves. Where was she? What was happening to her? She pushed to shaky legs, but they were too weak to hold her weight, and she crashed into the cold concrete floor. A sharp pain exploded in her temple, and the world around her blackened completely.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart." Word of Bride's collapse had spread through AIR quickly, and Devyn had come running. Though he'd forced himself to remain outside headquarters these last three days, he'd never strayed far from the building.

Not even for the date he'd called a halt to half an hour into. He'd taken an agent to dinner, but before the appetizer had even arrived, he'd tossed a wad of cash on the table and left. Hadn't been right. Hadn't felt right. Bride was being drained, and he was out having fun. Well, not fun. He'd been miserable, unable to charm or flirt with his intended partner for the night.

He didn't know who he was anymore, or what he wanted. No, not true. He wanted Bride.

It was as if, when she'd kissed him and come on his fingers, she'd changed him. As if she'd somehow planted stronger seeds of obsession in his brain, and those seeds were now growing. He didn't know how to act anymore. Didn't know what to do with her.

He found himself thinking about her at the oddest moments. Like when he was on a date with another woman. Like when he was in the car and reached a traffic light flashing green. Like when he'd cut his fingertip and wiped the blood away.

What claimed the bulk of those thoughts was the fact that there'd been pain mixed with her pleasure. When she'd climaxed, she'd screamed, and it had not only been because of his exceptional skill. He wanted to know why she'd hurt and how to prevent it next time. For there would be a next time.

"Bride," he said more firmly. She was too pale, too still. He knew beyond a doubt she hadn't eaten in days. He'd kept tabs on her, and also knew she'd thrown up her one and only bag of plasma. "Wake up, and I'll let you slap me around. You know you want to."

A moan slipped from her, soft, barely discernible.

Of course the thought of hurting him physically had been the thing to rouse her. Her lashes fluttered open, casting flickering shadows on her cheeks. Those hazel irises were glazed, dull, but when they latched on to the pulse at his neck, they lit, swirled, once more like living emeralds, glowing.

He'd moved her to the bed, and he was stretched beside her, his head resting on his upraised palm. "You need to eat, sweetheart."

Desperately her hands pushed at him. "Get away from me." The words were slurred, thick. Her gaze never left his neck. "You have to get away from me."

"Drink from me. Hurry, or dinner's gonna get cold."

"Go. Please, go."

"Not until you drink. It's an all-you-can-eat buffet tonight."

"I said go!"

He tsked. "I don't know why you're so stubborn about this. You're hungry. I'm willing. Maybe you'll be able to keep it all down. Which wouldn't surprise me. It's mine, after all, so there's clearly none better."

"I don't want your blood," she said, trying to scramble away herself.

She didn't, did she? His eyes narrowed. They'd see about that once he prodded her temper. "Guess what? I took a female on a date. An agent. A six-armed Delensean. I haven't had one of those in years. The prospect of having one again amused me."

"I know," she snarled, some of her color returning. "You picked her up immediately after leaving my bed and dropping me off here."

"I can't deny it."

"Did you sleep with her?" No longer was she trying to get away. Now she was leaning into him, nails clawing past his shirt and at his skin. "No, wait. Don't tell me. I don't want to know. I just want you to leave."

"You're right. I should leave. I should go on another date. Maybe with a Rakan this time. I've never had one of those, you know. I've heard they're the best, though, so I really should make an effort to -"

With a roar, she was on top of him, pinning him to the mattress, her fangs in his neck, cutting deep, his blood flowing into her mouth. There was a sting, then only warm pleasure. He could hear her swallowing, purring as the flavor met her tongue. Finally.

"That's a good girl. Take everything you need." Her lower body ground against his.

Already he was hard as a rock, arching up to meet her thrusts. "Just so you know, I didn't sleep with that agent."

A mewling sound escaped her, and her teeth gentled on his neck. When she tried to disengage completely, he petted her hair with firm strokes, holding her in place. "Nope. I'm enjoying this. Because I was such a good boy on my date, you have to see to my needs. That means you don't get to stop yet."

On and on she continued to drink, her purrs growing louder, her body writhing faster ... faster, using him, taking what it needed, propelling her higher. Devyn gritted his teeth against the bliss, determined not to come like this again. A difficult task. She felt so good against him, she smelled like the sweetest flower, was finally doing something he'd commanded her to do.

Spots of color began to cloud his vision; she was taking a lot of blood, but still he didn't push her away. She needed it, and he had it to give. Even enjoyed the giving. "More," he said, the word barely audible. "Everything."

A hoarse cry slipped from her as she wrenched her mouth away. Up and down her chest moved in quick succession, her hard nipples abrading his chest. Exquisite, he thought. A trickle of crimson slid down her chin. Her lips were red, dewy. Her eyes no longer glowed, but her skin was so rosy it was like the petal of a rose.

"How's your stomach?" he asked. Wow. He sounded halfway to the grave.

"I-it's fine." She blinked in astonishment. "It's actually calm."

"I was ... right then. Better than ... most."

"Devyn?" she said with concern.

He didn't have the energy to form another word.

"Devyn," she repeated, determined this time. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to take so much. I didn't mean... I'll make it better. Okay? All right?" Slowly she leaned down and kissed him. Drops of his own blood seeped into his mouth. No, not his, he thought then. Hers. She'd swiped her tongue across her fangs, cutting the delicate tissue, and was feeding him that healing blood of hers.

Damn, damn, damn, was the next thought to hit him as some of his strength returned. He shoved her away from him and scrambled from the bed. He was panting, trembling, but he managed to maintain his balance.

"Devyn?" she said uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take so much. You just tasted so good, and it had been so long ... I'm really, really sorry, but I made it better. I did. You're already stronger. See?"

He scrubbed a hand down his face. She knows nothing about vampires, he reminded himself. She had no idea the magnitude of what she'd just done. Or did she? His gaze intensified on her. She sat up, smoothing her hair from her face with a wobbly hand. She wore an expression of concern and remorse.

No, she didn't know. Her ignorance didn't make it any better, though. He'd come in here to check on her and give her blood.

And okay, yeah. He'd wanted to see and kiss her, but he hadn't come for this. Maybe he should have warned her never to do it. Maybe he should have- No. No! He wouldn't take the blame for this.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "Why are you looking at me like I'm a monster? You're not going to turn into a vampire. Nolan didn't. And I didn't kill you. I just took a little too much blood. Blood you commanded me to drink. You should be thanking me for pulling away in time."

Thank her? He could think of several things he'd like to do to her, but none of them ended with the words thank and you, and all of them involved his hands manacled around her neck.

"I am a monster, aren't I?" she said next, tears filling her eyes. "You're repulsed by me now." Oh, those goddamn tears. Once again they sparked an ache in his chest.

Damn her. He would not soften. What she'd done was reprehensible. "I'm the one who should be crying. Right now the freedom I fought so hard for is gone. Everything I value is no longer available to me. And life as I know it, life as I've enjoyed it for so long, is over."

Her mouth fell open. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about regrets, sweetheart. I regret that I ever met you." He scoured a hand down his face. The action wasn't violent enough, so he slammed his fists together. "God, I can't believe you did this."

"Did what?"

"Congratulations," he snarled. "You married a rich man."

CHAPTER 15.

Dallas drained the last of his beer and chucked the bottle on the floor. Bride was gonna be pissed when she returned home and saw what he'd done to her place. Maybe Devyn would hire a few naked hookers to clean up like he'd done for Dallas. Dallas laughed at the thought.

"What's so funny?" the agent next to him asked.

Hector Dean. A hard-ass agent who knew how to have fun. He had a shaved head, arms sleeved with tattoos, and eyes like a snake's.

Currently they were lounging on the couch and watching TV-a TV that Nolan could see but couldn't watch. They had to keep an eye on him at all times, but the only way to see him, as well as the TV, was to angle the screen toward the couch and away from Nolan, who was pouting about it.

Not that Dallas cared. He'd stopped watching a while ago, but still hadn't turned the thing off. Nolan didn't deserve any luxuries.

Dallas balanced a laptop on his thighs, punching buttons, scrolling, typing, re-creating his vision to study it further. What he'd realized so far: there were eighteen McKell warriors, as Devyn had called them. The knife used to kill the Targon was made of titanium. And Devyn's body was positioned nine feet from the edge of the pier.

None of these things aided Dallas. What good was finally accepting his abilities if he couldn't use them to his advantage? "Well?" Hector prompted.

What had the agent asked him? Oh, yeah. "I was just thinking of Devyn and Bride." Hector whistled. "Boy is wasted, that's for sure, and I never thought I'd see a guy like him fall."

"Me, either." Right now Bride was holed up at AIR headquarters, and Devyn was close to her, unable to stray too far-and not by force. It was surreal. Impossible to figure out, therefore not worth thinking about. Back to the killing. Would Bride's people hear about her confinement and come gunning for her freedom? Is that how they'd catch Devyn unaware?

"Bride's just as ... wasted did you say? Over Devyn," Nolan grumbled. He lay on his cot, tossing a ball against the bars and catching it as it bounced back to him. "Maybe I'll steal her from him. She thinks I'm handsome, and her blood is divine."

Every morning they gave Nolan a bag of Bride's blood, hoping to keep the disease at bay. So far, it had seemed to work. "Just try romancing Bride," Dallas told him. "Devyn will cut off your head. That's his preferred method of punishment for guys who mess with his woman." His woman. Odd words when used in conjunction with Devyn. Words he'd never thought to utter.

"We're talking about Devyn, king of the Targon army and prince of a thousand bedrooms." The ball buzzed to the bars, back to Nolan. "He'll be over her in a few days, and I can be there to pick up the pieces of her heart."

"No. You'll still be locked up," Hector said. "Maybe," was Nolan's only response.

Dallas didn't glance up from his laptop as he flipped off the alien. "You will."

Most likely Nolan was right, and Devyn would walk away from Bride soon enough. But Dallas had never seen the otherworlder like this. On edge, belligerent. Past few nights, Devyn had been staying at Dallas's place and had drunk himself into a stupor. Guy hadn't dated-except for that once-and hadn't had any females over.

With a sigh, Dallas brought the conversation back to the blood issue. "You craving everyone's blood, or just Bride's?"

Nolan shuddered. "Just Bride's. Not because I like the taste, but because of the way it makes me feel. Besides, yours would give me heartburn, I'm sure. You smell like stale beer."

"You're lucky you're alive-most of AIR wants you dead." Hector leaned back on the couch. "And you would be, if not for your improved health and the desire for answers."

"And Mishka," Nolan added smugly. The woman had been here every day, seeing to the otherworlder's comfort and amusement. "When's she due to arrive, anyway?"

Dallas shrugged. "Hour, tops. Thinking of winning her, too?"

"Always."

That earned a laugh from Hector. "Keep talking like that and maybe she'll kill you herself. She's bat shit crazy for Jaxon."

"You don't know women, Agent Dean. I can win anyone I desire, whether they are mated or not."

Now he sounded like Devyn. Everyone who spent time with the Targon did eventually. People couldn't help but want to emulate him.

Hector stood and stalked to the mini-fridge they'd set up in the kitchen. "I may not know women, but I do know weapons, and I'm happy to introduce you to a few of mine."

Truth. Hector, too, reminded Dallas of Devyn in a lot of ways. Oh, Hector wasn't an unrepentant womanizer. Far from it. Dallas had never seen the guy with a woman or heard of someone special in his life. In fact, Hector, as fun-loving as he was, was pretty distant with the female agents. But he was emotionless when it came to killing, doing his job without hesitation or guilt.

"Let's talk about something productive," Dallas said. "Why don't you tell us where your queen's going to land?" Aka, what wormhole would she use to enter Earth. There were too many to cover all of them.

Thunk. Catch. Thunk. "Let me out, and I'll show you where I landed."

Hector reclaimed his seat on the couch, a bag of syn-chocolate cakes in his hands. "Not gonna happen again."

"The virus is no longer controlling me. I'm not going to betray you."