Ava’s hands curled into fists. Maybe she’d steal the necklace from him after she arrested him. Food for thought.

What she knew about the man, besides the fact that just looking at him could give a girl an orgasm: He needed to feed—aka drink blood—only once a week. His name was Victor, but McKell, what everyone called him, was his classification. And in layman terms, his classification was “bad motherfucker.” Apparently, he was a warrior. The warrior. Once leader of the entire vampire army and still savage beyond compare. Unless the comparison was with her best friend Noelle. “Savage” was a wee bit mild for Noelle.

Anyway, Ava had walked into McKell’s makeshift camp a few minutes ago, yet he hadn’t even glanced up from his task. He hadn’t asked her to leave and hadn’t questioned her about her sudden appearance and obviously nefarious intentions.

He knew she was here, though. She’d watched his nails grow and sharpen, becoming claws. Yet he didn’t fear her enough to bother with her. Or Noelle, who stood beside her. A mistake, but he’d learn. Everyone did.

Ava glanced at her friend, fellow (almost) AIR agent, and partner in many (allegedly heinous) crimes, to gauge the girl’s reaction to the man. Noelle, too, stared at him, completely fascinated.

Fascination was a good look for her. Hell, everything was a good look for her. Bastard wouldn’t stand a chance. Tall, slender, with silky brown hair and velvety gray eyes, Noelle was always the epitome of elegance. Until she opened her mouth. Then she was the epitome of mean. And sarcastic. And rebellious.

The contradiction intrigued anyone with a pulse.

Wait. Did vampires even have pulses? Ava suddenly wondered. Were they the living dead? Maybe. What did she know? Okay, so. Rephrase: the contradiction intrigued … anyone. McKell would be no different.

“Dibs,” Noelle said in her hoarse, used-to-be-a-smoker voice.

Ava massaged the back of her neck. “The fact that he’s a murderous bloodsucker isn’t a deal breaker?”

“With those biceps? No.”

Her gaze returned to McKell. He was shirtless, his muscles on full display. Those to-die-for biceps—literally to-die-for, since a lot of people had probably watched their lives flash before their eyes while those meaty clubs descended—mouthwatering pectorals, and rope after rope of hard-won abs.

“You’re right.” Damn. But since Noelle had already called dibs, Ava would never be allowed to run her hands over that deliciously strong body. Was that a … tear in her eye? “Just a warning, though. Your name rhymes with his, and I plan to torture you about that forever.”

“Still not a deal breaker.”

Damn her friend’s stubbornness. Stubbornness Ava was intimately acquainted with.

They’d met years and years ago, after Noelle had been kicked out of every private school in the state and no boardinghouse would take her. Ava had understood the reason why within five seconds of meeting the girl. Noelle’s first day at New Chicago Junior High No. 17, she’d taken one look at dirt-poor Ava and said, “I’m bored and need a project. You’ll do.”

Ava, of course, had said, “Project this,” and busted her two front teeth.

The next day, Noelle had held her down and chopped off her hair. She’d then given Ava a glittery ribbon to style away the damage. And when the principal had arrived a few minutes later, demanding answers, neither had told on the other.

They’d been inseparable ever since.

“Can I at least have a feel of him when you’re done?” Five minutes. That’s all she needed. She’d touch every inch of him—if anyone asked, she’d just say she’d frisked him—and then, the next boyfriend she had … hello pretend vampire. Win, win. Not that she’d had a boyfriend in years. Not that she wanted one in the future. Commitment sucked. But hey, so did McKell. She snickered. Anyway, thumbs up for sex. Which she hadn’t had in a while, either.

Noelle shrugged. “You can touch him, but only if you do my laundry for a week.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. Even the suggestion was cruel. But she said, “I need some think-time.” There was a scar on McKell’s sternum, stretching to his navel and dipping inside his pants, and the thought of tracing it … maybe she could survive the laundry. That’s craziness.

“I’m kinda pressed for time, so you’ve got two minutes to decide,” Noelle replied. “Starting now.”

Finally the vampire stopped running those silver blades together. Had he been listening to their conversation, as they’d hoped? Was he now waiting for her think-time to end to discover her answer?

Two minutes after her two minutes had passed, McKell growled low in his throat. “I’m right here. Stop talking about me as if I’m not.”

That voice … God hadn’t just been on his A game when he created this being. He’d decided to enter a new league. Rough, raspy, and purring, McKell’s voice was like hot butterscotch poured over—hmm, butterscotch. The thought of her favorite candy distracted Ava for a moment.

Yep. Should have called dibs yourself.

“We did,” Ava said, forcing her mind on the task at hand. “We stopped talking about you. In fact, you had to break the silence. Remember?”

That earned her a snarl. “Just answer the woman and leave. This is my camp. Mine!”

Or not have called dibs. Selfish much? “I’ve decided. You can have him,” Ava said to Noelle. “He’s a little too cranky for me. Besides that, I promised myself I’d take a razor to my wrists before ever doing your laundry again.” She hadn’t minded the blood and gore on the clothes. Why would she, when the same stuff could be found on her own? The problem had been folding the skanky costumes Noelle supposedly liked to wear in the bedroom—in full view of everyone inside Suds and Bubbles Laundromat. Costumes Ava suspected Noelle had purchased only for her benefit and subsequent humiliation.

“You’re such a prude,” Noelle muttered.

“Well, you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Me? You’re the ass pain!”

McKell flashed his fangs—long, sharp, and oddly beautiful—before Ava could call her best friend a raging bitch. “Be quiet! Seriously. I preferred the silence.” Then, contradicting his own demand, he asked, “So what are you doing here, anyway?”

Mmm, butterscotch. The real deal was too expensive for her to have at every meal, as well as between meals, during the middle of the night, and for all snacks. As she would have preferred. Citywide, sugar was in low supply, the price for it rising every week, it seemed, so she only indulged once a month. Which just happened to be her favorite day of the month. Even if she was on her period.

His voice, though … give me a spoonful of that.

“Mind out of the candy bowl,” Noelle said on a sigh. They knew each other too well.

Right. The vampire had asked a question, and she had a job to do. “We were just passing through, saw your fire, and thought we’d stop by and make out with each other.”

His jaw dropped.

“Wanna watch?” Noelle added hopefully.

“Or maybe join?” Ava suggested.

“Whatever. We’re not picky.”

That violet gaze shifted from one to the other, pupils expanding. He licked his lips, tongue pink and wet and, well, pretty. Was everything about the man attractive? Doesn’t matter. Good news: even vampires were perverts.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, even though a part of her still reeled at the knowledge that vampires existed at all. Sure, Ava had known aliens lived here. They’d walked this planet for over eighty years—and as she was only twenty-three years old, that meant they’d lived here her entire life (duh). All different races, sizes, colors, and shapes.

In high school she’d dated a Teran for six whole days, and they were a very catlike species. Lots of rubbing and purring and shedding. Too much rubbing and purring and shedding.

Anyway. Vampires had never revealed themselves, even during the human-alien war, and everyone had assumed they were the stuff of myth and legend. Apparently they’d been living underground for thousands of freaking years. They might have remained a secret forever, even, but AIR had a way of ferreting out the truth.

“Do you always wear weapons when you plan to make out?” McKell snapped, dragging Ava from her thoughts. God, she had to stop letting herself become distracted. And funny that his gaze seemed directed at her, and her alone, boring past her clothes and her skin and, somehow, into her soul. “Don’t try to tell me you’re unarmed. I can smell the weapons on you.”

“Uh, hello. This forest is miles from town, and it’s the dead of night. Of course we’re armed. Plus, my friend is a freak and likes when I rough her up.”

Noelle snorted. “No way. You’re the one who likes it rough.”

“Please! I’m a fragile flower. You know I like to be treated like a lady.”

“I’m not foolish,” McKell interjected, his voice now flat. And yet, somehow that timbre crackled with fury. “You’re both from AIR. You have to be, despite your … distractibility. Only agents would be foolish enough to approach me. Again.”

Distractibility—a nice way of saying they argued too much? Probably. And wasn’t that a shocker? A savage who didn’t want to hurt their feelings. She and Noelle would, of course, use that against him.

“We can do this easy, or we can do this hard,” he continued in that same flat, yet furious tone. “Leave, and you can return to Agent Snow just as you arrived. Stay, and you can return to Agent Snow in pieces. Although I’ll keep your fingers for touching what’s mine.” As he spoke, he caressed his necklace. “Your choice.”

Butterscotch, even while threatening.

Ava didn’t reach for her pyre-gun or any of her blades. She kept her arms at her sides, hands empty. She and Noelle had to be careful with this one. He could stop time—for them—while moving freely himself. Which meant he could slash their throats, and they wouldn’t know until he restarted the clock.

“News flash: we didn’t touch anything that belongs to you,” she said, to keep him talking.

“You’re here, aren’t you? So, what’s it to be, girls?”

He’d do it, too. Cut off their fingers without a moment’s hesitation. He was cold, and he was hard, and not in the good way, that she could tell. There was no line he wouldn’t cross to achieve what he wanted. No black and white for him. Only shades of gray.

Why the hell was he suddenly a thousand times sexier? The dibs system sucked worse than commitment, she decided.

“Dude,” Noelle said. “You totally stole my line. Ava, did you hear him steal my line? Easy or hard way,” she mocked while pouting. “I had planned to say that to him.”

“I heard, Noelle. At least give him a chance to apologize, though. We do not want a repeat of the last time this happened.”

A muscle ticked in McKell’s jaw. “Did you also hear what I did to the last three agents who came for me? Ava.”

Her name on those wicked lips … delectable. She shivered.

Noelle splayed her arms, deceptively innocent. “First, eyes on me, cowboy. I called dibs. Second, we heard. You ate them. So can I sign up for the feasting now, or would you rather I wait until later?”

Now those violet eyes widened, confusion swirling in their depths. A common occurrence around the girl.

“And was that a no on watching us make out with each other?” Ava asked. No mercy. No matter how badly she wanted to tongue him.

His nostrils flared, even as his gaze—which had never left her—traveled over her, lingering in all the right places. Her suddenly pebbling nipples, the now aching apex of her thighs. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, the cool night air blending with the warmth from the campfire and licking over her. Another shiver rocked her.

“Well?” she prompted, hating the breathlessness of her voice.

“That’s a yes,” he rasped.

She almost grinned. Typical male. Little did he know, he’d just bought himself a one-way ticket to AIR HQ.

“Excellent choice! I’ve been dying to put my mouth all over this little morsel for too long. So come here, you sexy piece of sexy goodness, you.” Noelle grabbed Ava by the shoulders and tugged her close, lips lowering to plant a big, wet one.

Ava made sure to moan really loudly as her hands slid down … down … the seeming delicate bumps of Noelle’s spine. She cupped Noelle’s ass with her right hand, made a mental note to inquire what kind of workout program her friend had been doing, then curled the fingers of her left hand—the one farthest away from the vampire—around a tiny pyre-gun stored beneath Noelle’s too-tight jeans.

“Dear God,” McKell said now. Had he expected them to balk at kissing each other, even after offering to do so?

Without pulling her lips from Noelle’s, she aimed the gun toward him, keeping the barrel flat against her friend, hidden. Then she released Noelle’s ass, let those fingers trace the waist of the jeans, as if desperate to sink down, past her panties and into heat, knowing the vampire’s attention followed, all the while allowing the gun a straight shot.

She squeezed the trigger.

A blue beam erupted, lighting up the night, nailing him in the chest, and stunning him in place. Boom. Done. For the next twenty-four hours, he would see and hear everything around him, but be unable to move.

Too. Easy.

The kiss ended, and Noelle grinned down at her, all white teeth and smugness. “Wow. I really felt your passion for me that time.”

Ava rolled her eyes as she stuffed the gun back into her friend’s pants. “Shut up.”