Claimed by the Immortal

to do that.”

“But what is so good about it?”

His gaze darkened even more. “I can’t really explain. You’ll have to take my word. There’s a place between life and death where only a vampire can take you, a place so full of ecstasy that words simply aren’t enough to describe it.”

Ecstasy. He said it with such calm assurance that she found it hard to argue. What was more, the way he said it made her tingle and throb again. The experience he had given her such a short time ago had awoken cravings in her entire body. If he could give her even more than that...

But she shied away from the thought, hating that he had the power to evoke such a strong response. And it was indeed power. She loathed feeling that someone could control her being so easily.

Angry with herself, she spoke acidly. “I suppose you vampires just walk away untouched by all this havoc you wreak on humans.”

“No.” He sounded annoyed and his eyes grew as black as a moonless, starless night. “It would help if you understood something. If I drink from someone, they become an everlasting part of me. I may not ever see them again. I may not even care to ever see them again. But they become part of me, whether I choose it or not. Thus I am careful in my choices. I don’t want to be populated by the demons of others, their aches and pains and griefs. Minor though they may be, just imagine how they could accumulate over the centuries. At least bagged blood carries none of those risks because it is basically dead. For me anyway.”

That was an appalling thought, but she wasn’t quite ready to give up her anger, because it helped corral her chaotic emotions and protect her from him. “Well, then, I guess you should choose only empty-headed bimbos. That leaves me out.”

His laugh astonished her, but laughter or not, his eyes remained black. “No. I choose those I find sympathetic or compatible. That way, not only can I give them unparalleled pleasure, but they give me something, as well.”

“So what is it about me?”

Much to her pleasure, he appeared to be at a loss.

“I’m not sure,” he said eventually. “Perhaps it would be best if we never found out. You may think I’m dangerous to you, Caro, but to be perfectly honest, I suspect you’re a danger to me.”

With that he lowered his head and resumed reading, making it utterly clear that he was done with this conversation.

A conversation that had done little to settle Caro’s mind. How could she possibly be a danger to him? She had even waved her service pistol at him and he hadn’t seemed the least fazed by it.

“How could I endanger you?” she asked, not caring if she interrupted his reading.

She heard a faint sigh, and then he was leaning over her, so fast she hadn’t seen him move. There was that little problem, she thought sourly. How could you shoot something that moved faster than sight? How did you protect yourself? Danger to him? Hah!

“You play with fire, Caro,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” She could feel her chin thrust forward, defying him. “What kind of fire? And just how do you get singed?”

He shook his head a little. “Another time. It may not even be a real danger. I just know I feel these little warnings.”

Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, he reached out to touch her hair, then ran his fingers down her cheek to her throat, then lower still until they brushed the peak of one breast.

Instantly she was on fire for him, and if there’d been any blood left in her head, instead of all of it pooling between her legs to create a hard, heavy, damp ache, she might have blushed.

But her blood had already pooled down there, enflaming sensitive tissues, making everything else fade to insignificance. She wanted to hate him for that but couldn’t manage it. She also wanted to hate him because she saw the flicker of awareness cross his face as he smelled her reaction to his touch.

From somewhere came the wild thought that she wished she could plug his nose just to maintain her privacy.

But it was hopeless now. He knew. Her body couldn’t decide whether to clamp her thighs together or let them fall open to invite his touch. Right now every ounce of her being was centered between her legs.

“Damn you,” she managed to whisper.

Instantly he reappeared across the room, but he didn’t look amused. “I might say the same to you,” he remarked. “A willing woman responding to me the way you do is one thing. Unwilling is another. Damn you, too, Caro, because I feel the same desire.”

He felt the same desire? Really? Surprise filled her, causing her to realize for the first time just how much she needed that kind of reassurance. Control was an important part of her self-image, and she had never thought herself needy in the least way. But here she was, needy and relieved to know she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

He closed the book he’d been reading with a definitive snap. “I need to get out of here. You perfume the room with enticing scents. Fresh air is the only answer.”

He rose, then paused. “But I can’t leave you alone.”

“What difference does it make?” she asked, swamped both in the desire she felt and in the inevitable fear she felt about being alone right now. It wasn’t an overpowering fear—she wasn’t certain she was capable of that —but it was uncomfortable nonetheless.

“Difference?” he repeated. “It might make the difference about whether I pounce on you. As I recall, you’re distinctly opposed to pouncing.”

Any other time, this might have been an amusing conversation. Pounce? Why did that sound like such a funny yet good word all of a sudden?

“Pouncing aside,” she said, “you do remember those guys outside Alika’s shop? They weren’t there by accident. I probably could have handled that group, but what if this power sends something else? Witnessing may not be enough to protect me, so I’d rather have backup alongside.”

The corners of his mouth tipped upward. “Backup? You mean you’d rather have my strength, my powers and my ability to kill at your side?”

The cop in her rebelled at the part about his ability to kill, and then she wondered why it should. Didn’t she always hit the streets with an armed partner? And this one seemed better armed than most for the threat they were facing. Guns clearly weren’t going to cut it unless to kill humans who were under some outside control.

“Can I be frank?” she asked.

“Of course. I’m frank with you. To use Jude’s phrase, I want you like hell on fire. I admit that phrase has always perplexed me, but it seems to convey the meaning adequately.”

Now she flushed a little. “Pull in your fangs and your pheromones, or whatever you’re using on me.”

“Trust me,” he said bluntly, “I’m using none of my wiles on you. They clearly don’t work. In this particular situation, you seem to have all the wiles.”

Now that made her feel good. A different kind of warmth settled in her. As she’d discovered, not too many men were interested in an armed woman, except possibly for her handcuffs. “Let’s get back to my point.”

“Certainly. Something about killing, I presume.”

“Actually, yes. The thing is, Damien, I don’t want to kill people who are being controlled by that elemental, or whatever it is. I really don’t. If they’re acting under the influence of something they don’t understand and can’t control, why should they pay with their lives?”

He tilted his head. “Moral questions used to be so much simpler.”

“It’s called social evolution,” she said tartly.

A chuckle escaped him. “Point taken, though I don’t always agree. All right. You want any pawns to be removed from the table alive.”

“Yes.”

“I can promise to try. But there is your so-called doctrine of self-defense. I might also point out that you