Butch picked up his handset and asked Dispatch to get someone over to the courtyard immediately to pick up the weapons and cash that were under his coat. As he drove, he kept one eye on the road and the other in the rearview mirror. The suspect stared back, a slight smile on his evil-looking face.

Jesus, the guy was huge. He took up most of the backseat, his head bent at an angle so it didn't smack the roof as they sped over potholes.

Butch couldn't wait to get him out of the damn car.

Less than five minutes later, he pulled off Trade Street and into the parking lot of the station, driving up as close to the back entrance as possible. He got out and opened the rear door.

"Let's play nice, shall we?" he said as he grabbed the guy's arm.

The man rose to his feet. Butch gave him a yank.

But the suspect stepped backward, away from the station.

"Wrong way." Butch threw his anchor out, digging his heels into the pavement and pulling hard.

The suspect was inexorable. He just kept backing up, dragging Butch along with him.

"You think I won't shoot you?" Butch demanded as he reached for his gun.

And then it was all over.

Butch had never seen anyone move that fast. One second the guy had his arms behind his back; the next, the handcuffs were on the ground.

And with total economy of movement, Butch was disarmed, put in a blistering choke hold, and hauled into the shadows.

The darkness swallowed them. As Butch fought back, he realized he was in the thin alley between the station and the office building next door. It was only about five feet wide, but some sixty feet long. And it was unlit. With no windows.

When Butch was spun around and slammed into the bricks, what little breath he'd been able to steal got kicked out of his lungs in a rush. Inconceivably, he was lifted off the ground, the man holding him by the neck with only one hand.

"You should have stayed out of it, Officer," the man said in a deep, accented growl. "You should have gone along on your way and let her come to me."

Butch clawed at the iron hold. The massive hand locked around his throat was squeezing the life right out of him. He gagged, desperate for air. His vision went checkerboard, consciousness slipping out of his grasp.

He knew without a doubt that there'd be no walking away from this one. He was going to be carried out of the alley inside of a bag. Just like the man had promised.

A minute later he stopped resisting altogether, his arms dropping and hanging loose. He wanted to fight. He had the will to fight. But no longer the strength.

And as for death? He was okay with it. He was going to die in the line of duty, albeit like an idiot, because he hadn't asked for backup. Still, it was better and quicker than ending up in a hospital bed with some nasty, slow growing disease. And more honorable than shooting himself. Which was something Butch had contemplated once or twice before.

With his last lick of life, he forced his eyes to focus on the man's face. The expression staring back at him was one of total control.

The guy's done this before, Butch thought. And he's very comfortable with murder.

God, Beth.

What the hell would a man like this do to Beth?

Wrath felt the cop's body go limp. He was still alive, but barely.

The human's total lack of fear was remarkable. The cop had been pissed to get jumped, and he'd fought back admirably, but he'd never been scared. And now that the Fade was upon him, he was resigned to his death. Maybe almost relieved by it.

Damn. Wrath could imagine feeling the same way.

And it was a shame to kill someone who was able to die as a warrior would. Without fear or hesitation. Such males were few and far between, be they vampires or humans.

The cop's mouth started moving. He was trying to speak. Wrath leaned down.

"Don't... hurt... her."

Wrath found himself answering, "I'm here to save her."

"No!" A voice rang out down the alley.

Wrath turned his head. Beth was running toward them.

"Let him go!"

He loosened his grip on the cop's throat. He wasn't going to kill the guy in front of her. He needed her to trust him more than he wanted to help the cop meet his maker.

As Beth skidded to a halt, Wrath dropped his hand, and the human fell to the ground. Tortured gasping sounds and hoarse gagging rang out in the shadows.

Beth knelt over the heaving policeman, glaring upward. "You almost killed him!"

Wrath cursed, knowing he had to get the hell out of there. Other cops were bound to show up.

He looked down to the other end of the alley.

"Where do you think you're going!" Her voice was scissor-sharp with anger.

"You want me to stick around so I can get arrested again?"

"You deserve to get thrown in jail!"

With a lurch the cop tried to stand up, but his legs buckled. Still, he pushed Beth's hands away when she reached for him.

Wrath needed to find a dark corner so he could dematerialize. If nearly killing someone had shaken Beth, pulling the disappearing act in front of her would only seal the deal on freaking her out.

He turned away. Began to stride off. He didn't like the idea of leaving her, but what else could he do? If he got his ass shot and killed, who would look after her? And he couldn't let himself get thrown in jail. Those cells had steel bars, which meant when dawn came, he couldn't dematerialize to safety. Faced with those two outcomes, if a bunch of cops tried to apprehend him right now, he'd have to slaughter them all.

And then what would she think of him?

"Stop right there!" she yelled.

He kept going, and her footfalls sounded out as she came running.

"I said, stop!" She grabbed onto his arm and pulled hard.

He glared at her, frustrated by the way things had gone down. Courtesy of his song and dance with her buddy, she was terrified of him, and that was going to make taking care of her a bitch. He doubted he had time to bring her around again so she would willingly go anywhere with him. Which meant he might even have to resort to taking her against her will when her transition hit. And that wasn't going to be fun for either one of them.

As her scent drifted up into his nose, he knew she was perilously close to the change.

Maybe he needed to take her with him now.

Wrath glanced around. He couldn't very well throw her over his shoulder here, just fifteen yards from the back of the police station. Not in full view of that damned cop.

No, he was going to have to come right before dawn and abduct her. And then he'd chain her in Darius's chamber if he had to, because it was either that or she was going to die.

"Why the hell did you lie!" she yelled. "You didn't know my father."

"Yes, I did."

"Liar," she spat. "You're a killer and a liar."

"At least you got the first part right."

Her eyes widened, horror dawning on her face. "Those throwing stars... in your pockets. You murdered Mary. Didn't you?"

He frowned. "I haven't killed any women."

"So I'm right about the second part, too."

Wrath eyed the cop, who was still down for the count, but gaining ground.

Damn it, he thought. What if Beth didn't have until dawn? What if she took off and he couldn't find her?

He lowered his voice. "You've been really hungry lately, haven't you?"

She jerked back. "What?"

"Hungry, but not gaining any weight. And tired. So very tired. Your eyes have been stinging, too, especially in the daytime, right?" He leaned forward. "You're looking at raw meat and wondering what it tastes like. Your teeth, the upper ones in front, have been sore. Your joints ache, and your skin feels tight. And it's getting tighter."

She blinked, mouth falling open.

Behind her the cop lurched to his feet, wobbled, and did an ass plant back on the ground. Wrath spoke faster.

"You feel like you don't belong, don't you? Like everyone else is moving at a different, slower speed. You think you're abnormal, separate, apart. Restless. You sense that something is coming, something monumental, but you don't know what it is or how to stop it. You lie awake, afraid of your dreams, lost in familiar surroundings." He paused. "You've had little or no sex drive whatsoever, but men find you incredibly attractive. Those orgasms I gave you last night were the first ones you've ever had."

It was all the things he could remember about existing in the human world before his transition.

She stared at him. Dumbfounded.

"If you want to know what the hell's happening to you, you need to come with me now. You're about to get sick, Beth. And I'm the only one who can help you."

She took a step backward. Looked at the cop, who seemed to be considering the merits of lying down.

Wrath held up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. If I were going to kill you, I could have done it last night in ten different ways, right?"

Her head turned back to him, and he closed his eyes as he sensed her remembering exactly what he had done to her. Her desire was a sweet saturation in his nostrils before the scent was quickly cut off.

"You were going to kill Butch just now."

Actually, he wasn't so sure about that. A good opponent was hard to find.

"I didn't."

"You could have."

"Does it really matter? He's still breathing."

"Only because I came."

Wrath growled, playing the best card he had. "I'll take you to your father's house."

Her eyes popped and then narrowed with suspicion.

She glanced over at the cop again. Now he was back up on his feet, one hand braced against the wall, head hanging as if it were too heavy for his neck.

"My father, huh?" Her voice was dripping with disbelief. And just enough curiosity so that he knew he had her.

"We're out of time here, Beth."

There was a long silence.

The cop lifted his head and looked down the alley.

In another minute or two the guy was going to try to make another arrest. His determination was palpable.

"I'm leaving now," Wrath said. "Come with me."

Her grip tightened on her purse. "Just so we're clear, I do not trust you."

He nodded. "Why would you?"

"And those orgasms weren't my first."

"Then why were you so surprised to be having them?" he said softly.

"Hurry," she muttered, turning away from the officer. "We can get a taxi out on Trade. I didn't ask the one that got me here to wait."