I must have looked concerned, because he smiled. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “We don’t need protection. My kind can’t carry disease and neither can we procreate without intention. And procreation is not one of my many intentions for you tonight,” he explained, between kisses.

“Ummm, Ryu?” I retorted, intelligently, as he kissed down toward my cleavage again. It’s just that I’d seen that made-for-TV movie, and I knew better than to believe a man who said, “Trust me, baby, my penis is harmless!”

“Hmmm?” he replied, nuzzling away at my boobs like a contented puppy. But when he saw that I still looked concerned, he smiled resignedly. “I’ve got protection, if it makes you feel better,” he said. I nodded and he sighed, reaching for his trousers.

I knew he was probably telling me the truth and we didn’t need the condom. Not to mention, I’d just handily violated every aspect of my blood-borne-pathogen training by letting him bite me. But I wasn’t about to end up sitting in the free clinic, knocked up or with vampire crabs, so I gave Ryu’s slightly martyred mug my best “tough titty, McVitty” smile.

After he’d found a condom, I tried to mitigate his obvious disappointment by illustrating how applying latex could be fun for both parties, if approached with enthusiasm. And a little oral sex. Then, with one last parting caress to his undercarriage that left him cross-eyed, I lay back and opened myself to him. He followed me back down to the blanket, where, in one long, slow motion, he slid into me, leaving me gasping. It’s been too long, I thought, reveling selfishly in my own pleasure. He moved inside of me, gently at first, letting me adjust to him as his lips toyed with mine. Then his kisses deepened, as did his thrusts, and soon we were going at it like two teenagers who had just discovered their apparently mismatched parts were actually wonderfully harmonized. I moved my hand between our bellies, placing my finger on my clit to help move things along, and he raised himself up on his hands to watch me touch myself.

“Oh, Jane,” he moaned, his hips starting to move erratically. My own pleasure was building fast, and seeing the lust on his face propelled everything even quicker. Calling my name, and burying his face in my neck, I felt him come just as my own orgasm washed over me, annihilating all conscious thought.

We lay there, kissing and cuddling for a few minutes, to catch our breath. I hadn’t felt this good in a really long time. I knew there’d be hell to pay with my guilt the next day, but for right now I pushed everything out of my mind and just enjoyed the feel of Ryu’s body pressed against mine.

When we had recovered a bit, he waggled his eyebrows at the ocean, and I laughed. Hand in hand, we walked down to the sea and scrubbed ourselves off in the shallows. Then we headed back to the blanket.

“Dessert?” he suggested, at the same moment that I shoved half of an entire tarte au citron into my mouth. “I guess that answers my question.”

He chose to eat his tart off my thighs, which I think we both enjoyed.

CHAPTER TEN

If I’d thought a dead, nearly decapitated goblin was one of the worst things I’d ever seen, I only had to meet a living one to realize just how wrong I’d been.

When Ryu pulled up in front of the bookstore, I’d headed into the back to change and get ready for that evening. I still wasn’t able to meet my own eyes in the mirror, so refreshing my minimal makeup was a slapdash affair. I took the opportunity to agonize, once again, over my behavior last night. I’d betrayed the memory of Jason with a bang, no pun intended, in the company of a man whose intentions were unclear to me. My attraction to Ryu was undeniably powerful, and apparently mutual. But in the cold light of day, the self-confidence I’d felt the night before was quickly eroding. What could someone like him want with somebody like me? He oozed confidence and authority; everything about him spoke of money, power, and status. Meanwhile, I didn’t own a pair of panty hose. I was afraid to ask my hairdresser for a glass of water. And let’s not forget the time Grizzie told me the fashion police were out to get me, on charges of banality, and I actually looked around to see where they were hiding.

Furthermore, Ryu is not Prince Charming, here to rescue you from your enchanted slumber, my brain reminded me. You still have to live in Rockabill, taking care of the father who won’t move away and whom you wouldn’t abandon even if you could. All of which means that Ryu will go, and you will remain. I stared at myself, hard, in the mirror, finally touching on the questions I couldn’t answer.

What are you going to take from this? From him?

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and thoroughly flagellated by my self-doubts, Ryu wasn’t alone. Next to his Porsche was a large Audi sedan, and arguing with him was what could only have been the female version of that awful creature in Peter’s trunk.

Ryu was obviously really angry, but the creature looked entirely unimpressed. She just stood there, impassively, her wicked looking long-fingered claws—painted a bold red, I noted—wrapped around the handle of her expensive-looking briefcase.

And she was huge, towering above Ryu by at least two feet. Since the only goblin I’d ever seen had been shoved into the trunk of a car, I had no idea they were so tall. Her bony, mottled-green body was encased in a conservative gray business suit and her many-fanged mouth sported a lipstick that perfectly matched her fire-engine-red nails. Her eyes glowed a horrible piquant yellow and appeared to be dripping mucus, but she did have lovely blond hair that was wrapped up in an elaborate French twist. All in all, the contrasts added up to one of the most repulsive sights I’d ever seen.

“Who is the suit arguing with your man?” Grizzie asked, curiously. I couldn’t believe she could see them, and I blinked at her, confused. “She’s hot, in a corporate way. Maybe she’s a naughty secretary.” Grizzie leered, too busy pondering the implications of “naughty secretary” to notice that I was staring at her with absolute disbelief.

Ah, the powers of glamour, I thought, as I mumbled something about not being sure who it was. Grizzie turned to me and sighed when she saw what I was wearing. I thought I looked nice in my sky-blue T and sexiest hipster jeans. My shirt had three-quarter-length sleeves and was cut in a rather deep V-neck. Because of the plunging neckline, and the fact that it was pretty thin material, I wore a nice white chemise under it. I was also wearing my boots again instead of my Converse.

I looked down at my clothes, confused and a little hurt. Grizzie came over and put an arm around me.

“You always look beautiful, Jane,” she said, apologetically. “But you’d look even better in some leather. Or maybe hot pants. Leather hot pants…” she finished, starting to look decidedly predatory.

“Grizzie, it’s November. Hot pants are not an option,” I reminded her.

She looked at me as if I’d just cursed the memory of my own mother. “Hot pants, my dear, are always an option.”

I shook my head, put on my coat, and hugged her good-bye. Ryu and the goblin were still arguing, but my curiosity was getting the better of my apprehension. I wanted to know what was going on.

Neither the bloodsucker nor the giant gremlin registered my appearance at their side. Ryu was so angry he was nearly spitting. No, he actually was spitting. His extended fangs made talking difficult.

“You have no authority to take me off this case, Gretchen,” he snarled. “I was asked to investigate this matter, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Yes, but Martin’s death means the situation has changed,” Gretchen the goblin replied impassively.

“How?” Ryu demanded. “Manx’s body was in Jakes’s trunk: Ergo, his death is connected to Peter’s murder and is therefore a part of my investigation.”

“But it’s no longer your investigation.” Gretchen’s voice betrayed not one iota of emotion as Ryu’s hands clenched into fists and he had to visibly restrain himself. I took a step toward him. Whoever this goblin was, she was obviously in charge and Ryu would do himself no favors by attacking her. Plus, I had a feeling she’d kick his ass.

“You have been removed from this case and I have been given the authority to replace you.” The goblin rummaged in the outer pocket of her briefcase. “Orin asked me to inform you that this is through no fault of your own. When a member of our firm is killed in action, our contract of service stipulates that we become responsible for the deceased agent’s investigation.” The creature’s yolk-yellow eyes flicked toward me for a split second, and I shuddered.

“This is horse shit,” Ryu spat, as she handed him a creamy white envelope.

“No, it’s procedure.” The goblin zipped shut her briefcase’s pocket and straightened her suit jacket. “And procedure dictates that the firm itself is responsible for meting out justice for those who interfere with our agents. Alfar justice, however swift, is not goblin justice.”

Those awful yellow eyes remained emotionless throughout her speech, and I knew I never, ever, wanted to find out what goblin justice entailed.

Ryu, in the meantime, had ripped open the envelope and was reading the letter. He was still angry, but a look of resignation passed over his face as he finished, crumpling up the letter and its envelope decisively. “Fine,” he said. “The investigation is yours.” He visibly gathered himself, as if remembering his manners. “I hope you find the murderer, and I am sorry for Manx’s loss. He was a fine attorney.”