“I think we should direct our attention to the Empusae next, mainly because I can’t think of any better place to start over. Their numbers aren’t what they were, but this is, at least technically, the seat of what remains of their power. I’m working on getting a meeting with one of the Empusa’s higher-ups, but it could take until tomorrow. None of the Shades in the area have seen or heard of a rogue Grigori, so he’s either kept himself very well hidden or he hasn’t been on his own long enough to garner any notice. But the Empusae keep very close track of their territory, even though they’re quiet about it, so”—he shrugged—“we ask there. The Empusa—it can get confusing when you’re in a bunch of Empusae, since they take their dynasty’s name from their ruler—owes me a favor, though she won’t like me collecting on it.”

“I know why they’re called Empusae,” Ariane shot back. “Just like I know that Empusa herself is sometimes called Mormo to differentiate.”

Damien snorted. “I wouldn’t try calling her that, if you enjoy having your head attached to your body. The lot of them are awfully prickly about treating her as anything less than a revered oracle. Mormo is a name reserved for those closest to her.” He smirked. “Or those she needs too much to destroy.”

“Hmm.” Ariane filed the information away, glad she hadn’t had to find it out the hard way. “Anyway, I’m glad we’re going to the seat of the Empusae,” Ariane said. “It was one of their dynasty who told me about Thomas Manon. Diana. She was very kind, and I’m sure she’d tell me if this Grigori has been seen around.”

“Ariane,” Damien said, reproach in his voice, “I’m not sure that announcing your presence to every highblood in the area is going to help you in the end. You know your people are looking for you.”

“I didn’t then,” she replied, thoroughly exasperated. “And besides, Diana approached me. She wondered if I’d heard anything about Sam. I guess they were friendly enough that he kept in touch, to an extent. She mentioned that Sam had had a lot of contact with Manon. Sam apparently handled most of the dynasty’s business with him.”

They paused at the edge of the complex, beneath a stylized arch that served as an entrance to the parking lot.

Damien was frowning. “You know, your knowledge of your friend’s activities outside of… well, wherever you came here from… seem to involve an awful lot of guesswork. I thought this was your closest friend?”

She opened her mouth, hoping some kind of reasonable answer would come out. When nothing happened, she closed it again. Why did she always end up embarrassed when he asked questions about her life? It was true—what she’d regarded as friendship back at the compound had turned out to be just a pale shadow of what it seemed to mean here. But there was no question that her kind was far from normal, even among vampires.

Damien picked up on her consternation almost immediately. “You know, you blush more than any vampire I’ve ever known. Believe it or not, kitten, that was an honest question.”

She blew out a breath and looked up at the sky. “Why do you keep calling me that? I’m not your kitten. I’m not a pet or a small, fuzzy animal!”

When she looked at him again, he had tilted his head slightly, regarding her with plenty of interest, but without, thankfully, any malice.

“It seems to fit,” he said. “Beautiful. Touchable. Very sharp claws. I’d promise to stop calling you that, but I’d be lying.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. And the burst of affection she felt for him in that moment set off warning bells immediately. No, she told herself. No no no. Lust is one thing. Liking him is quite another. But gods, it was hard when he was grinning at her like a naughty little boy.

“You’re awfully blunt for someone who claims to be an expert in subterfuge,” Ariane said. “Are you so honest with everyone?”

“No,” he replied, and she laughed again. His eyes glowed faintly with pleasure as he watched her, and for a moment, Ariane completely forgot they weren’t the only two people in the area. He had a way of doing that, she’d noticed. Wicked or not, he was certainly a compelling presence.

“I’m glad you find me so entertaining. Even though it’s only going to puff up my already inflated ego,” he said. “Come on, then. It’s possible we’ll run into Diana at the Empusae compound. If nothing else, she’s an avenue to explore if Mormo—and I can call her that—decides to be difficult.”

They turned down one of the aisles of cars. Ariane looked at the light reflecting dully off the metal and wondered what sort of car Damien drove. Something fast, she guessed. Sleek but not overly flashy. She was curious to see whether she was right.

They passed car after car in silence. Damien didn’t give any of them more than a passing glance. Finally, however, he headed for a new red BMW convertible at the very edge of the lot sitting all by itself. Ariane smiled as he pulled the key fob out of his pocket and unlocked it. She’d been right.

“Why do you think she’ll help us if she’s inclined to be difficult?” she asked. “And don’t tell me it’s your good looks and charm.”

He looked disgruntled, but far from ashamed. “I’m a Shade, Ariane. This may offend your delicate sensibilities, but what exactly do you think my kind does to curry favor with people? Bake them cakes?”

“You’ve killed for her,” Ariane said slowly. The reminder that she was going to be traveling with—and was actively considering sleeping with—a cold-blooded killer was like a hard slap across the face. Maybe she needed the reminder. It was far too easy to forget.

“Her enemies are clever,” Damien said with an unmistakable note of pride. “Not only does Mormo pay well, she always provides a challenge. Or she did. A shame that—” He caught himself from finishing the sentence and simply shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s be off.”

Ariane hesitated when he opened the car door for her.

“So you’ve… killed a lot of people, then?” Ariane asked, suddenly unsure of what, exactly, she was doing getting into a car with a man like him. It was one thing to know he was a Shade. It was quite another to hear him talk about the specifics… and leave the impression he really enjoyed the work.

Damien sighed loudly and looked at his watch. “Yes, Ariane. Look, it’s past ten already, and the estate is outside of the city. Could you just get in?”

He seemed to realize then that something was wrong and looked at her closely. Ariane had to struggle to stay still beneath the sudden intensity of his gaze. She’d folded her hands in front of her and realized he’d probably noted that one hand had the other in a death grip.

“You look afraid of me all of a sudden, kitten,” Damien said, stepping closer, his eyes turning feline in the dark. His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent that made Ariane want to run. It took everything she had to stand her ground, but she refused to back away. It would only encourage him.

“Not afraid,” Ariane said, though it wasn’t quite the truth. “I just… Does life mean so little to you? All the people you’ve killed, all the things you’ve destroyed… you never regret living this way?”

He arched a brow. “That’s quite a question, coming from a pampered highblood who’s never had to lift a finger for anything in her life.”

“But weren’t you pampered once too? You seem so—”

He laughed, cutting her off, and it had a cruel edge to it she didn’t like.

“Well mannered? Yes, Ariane, my governesses made certain I had lovely manners. And the fact that my father looked at them as pretty toys to be taken in and then discarded when he was through with them ensured that I had plenty of teachers. Are you so interested in my pedigree, sweet? Looking for the prince in the heart of the killer?”

The bitterness in his voice, so strong, caught her off guard. If she’d wondered whether he felt real emotion, she now had her answer, for better or worse.

“I’m trying to understand you,” she admitted quietly.

“There’s nothing to understand. I was an aristocrat once. Now I’m not. I do what I like, when I like, just as I did then. Nothing has changed, except that people now pay me to behave badly.” He moved even closer as he spoke, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl, until he was only a breath away from her. Desire unfurled, hot and unexpected, deep in Ariane’s belly. She didn’t have time to question why she should want such a broken creature. All she could do was react to him.

“Stop trying to run me off,” she said softly. His eyes glowed like blue fire so close to hers. Her entire body sizzled with his nearness, with the prospect of his touch.

Damien’s expression twisted into something pained. “You should be running, Ariane. You’re so damned innocent. You’ll end up ruined.”

She managed a small smile. “I don’t think worrying about being ruined really has a place for a woman in the twenty-first century. Even I know times have changed.”

He shook his head gently. “No, kitten. I’m not talking about your reputation. I’m talking about your heart and soul. There are still lots of ways to destroy those. And that is what I worry about with you.”

The admission, simple and sweet, left Ariane momentarily speechless. It was the look in his eyes, so haunted and impossibly sad, that moved her to slide her arms around him and press her mouth against his. He turned his face away, his breathing heavy, though he didn’t try to disentangle himself from her.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Ariane. I neither need nor want your pity. So don’t you dare.” His voice was rough with whatever emotions had finally slipped through the wall he’d built. She knew better than to engage him like this, even knowing him so little. He seemed to be looking for a fight because it was easier.

She wouldn’t give it to him.