The UnHallowed’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his head tilted in contemplation. His gaze touched every part of her, intimately. Heat stoked his cold aquamarine eyes. “I’m at a loss, human. Not that I’m not absolutely delighted, but have we met?”

Amaya struck fast, swiping one blade in a wide arch while bringing the other to thrust into his unprotected chest. He dodged each attack, folded into the shadows, and emerged behind her. She kicked back and connected with his knee. He grunted, then grabbed her ankle, and yanked.

She landed on the floor and rolled. He countered the move and followed her down. She flung him away and watched him crash into the opposite wall. The damned UnHallowed was on his feet before she climbed to hers.

His presence surprised her and threw her attack off balance. It wouldn’t happen again. Amaya settled low onto her haunches and waited for his first move.

He waved a finger at her. “Now, I remember you. The ninja has shed her clothes to reveal a most beautiful woman. Your name?” he demanded, menace in his tone and grin.

Just as she remembered, his voice was dark and decadent, like expensive wine and Swiss chocolate. Amaya ignored the heat spiking her system and pulled a dagger from a sheath along her pants leg. She targeted the center of his chest and let it fly.

He swatted it away.

“You’ll have to do better than that. If you know anything about the UnHallowed, you’d know a knife, or a dagger”—he pointed to her weapons— “are pointless.”

She pulled a silver vial filled with holy water from another pocket, thumbed it open, and poured the contents over her second dagger.

His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Oh. Fuck.”

She didn’t expect him to back off and he didn’t disappoint. He stepped to her, strolled actually, as if his immortal existence wasn’t threatened by the dagger gripped in her hand.

She blinked and he was upon her, her wrist caught on the downswing. Her other wrist clamped in his other hand like a vise.

He leaned closer until all she could see was him and the crimson around his icy eyes.

“Why are you wearing contact lenses? I want to see the color.”

“I don’t care what you want. Let me go.”

“I want to see into your soul, to see who you are at the most basic level, and those colored discs prevent it. You will remove them.” His voice caressed her skin like rough silk.

“Go screw yourself!” She yanked to be free. His grin was all sorts of temptation. An annoying flutter started in her stomach.

“You will remove the lenses and let me see the light within you.”

The rage inside her paused. “The UnHallowed seeks the light? Step outside where there’s plenty.”

He smiled with the same menacing twist to his lips. “Wit and strength. You shouldn’t have been able to shake me off, but you did. What other traits do you have?”

“Cunning.” She smashed her forehead into his as hard as she dared without knocking herself out. His grip loosened and she was free. She brought a knee into his gut. When he doubled over wheezing, she slammed a fist into the back of his head. The UnHallowed dropped and took her with him. They rolled around, limbs entangled until she landed on top with a blade at his throat. The other one lost somewhere.

In a blink of an eye, she was on her feet, her back to his front. His arm wrapped around her throat, squeezing gently. “You will cease in your struggles.” He leaned down and—did he just sniff me?

Instead of obeying, Amaya slipped her knife between his ribs. He hissed and she imagined his flesh sizzling inside and out. He applied more pressure, not enough to cut off her oxygen, just enough to immobilize her.

So, she complied and relaxed in his embrace.

He stopped squeezing, but didn’t release her. Playing possum had to work. It was the only thing she had left. She sagged, her heartbeat slowing even more.

He yanked the blade from her hand. Next, he swung her into his arms. She’d never been carried. It was a strange sensation, having a man’s arms completely around her as if she were helpless.

He dumped her in the only chair, a worn upholstered hardback. Dust kicked up, nearly causing her to sneeze.

“You are a horrible possum.” He moved out of the way before she could strike again.

She righted herself and watched as he slapped a hand to his side. The material from his shirt was wet and partially melted. When he drew his hand away, black covered his palm. A drop fell from his fingertips and burned a round hole in the wooden floor.

“So, it’s true. Acid for blood. I hope you bleed out.” She started to rise.

“Remain where you are or this time, I will kill you,” he snarled and crossed the room to the fireplace. The old wood ignited and flames danced at his approach. He placed the knife in the orange flames.

A minute later, the UnHallowed grabbed the hilt, lifted his shirt, and slapped the glowing flat surface of the blade to the wound. His flesh sizzled, smoke snaked from his skin, and the scent of burned meat flavored the air. Her lips curled in disgust, not the glee she expected. She should rejoice in any pain he suffered, not flinch at the grimace tightening his features.

“What now?” she asked when he tossed her blade aside.

“You tell me your name.” He leaned against the fireplace. Backlit with an orange glow, he appeared demonic and dashing in equal parts.

“Why?”

“Since we’ve broken the ice with blood, I want to know the name of the female who stabbed me.”

“Fuck you.”

He mumbled something then said, “Your name is not Fuck You. Though I am not opposed.”

Her throat dried, and not totally in fear. Her mind went there, to her and him—naked, sweaty in front of the fireplace. Him, head bowed at her nipple, sucking with deep pulls into his wet, hot mouth. She shoved the image away, yet it was lodged there. His gaze strolled down her body and she tensed, prepared for a different kind of attack.

“Very well.” He picked up her purse from the floor.

“Hey!” She plucked her discarded dagger off the floor and rushed him.

“Do not move.” Power radiated from his voice and she froze. Every muscle in her body, except for her heart, stopped. She couldn’t even breathe. All she could do was watch as he dumped the contents on the floor and kick through the items until he found her wallet.

With a flick of his fingers, he brought the billfold to him, and opened it. “Amaya Prince.” Her work ID was in his hand next. “DMV employee.”

Fury blazed through her system as she white knuckled the dagger. The UnHallowed let the wallet fall from his hand and stepped to her until the dagger pressed to the center of his chest. All she could see was the wide expanse of his pecs.

His cool palm settled on her neck. His body temperature had to be lower than ninety-eight point six. He stroked the column of her throat and moved to her jaw. Her insides shivered as he trailed a finger to her chin and lifted. Her gaze traveled up his chest, the pale column of his neck, past the cleft in his chin, and followed his straight nose to his eyes.

He leaned forward, his lips much too close to hers, and said, “Hello, Amaya. I am Bane.”