And then, just as quickly as it had flashed through him, the pain left. In its place was a lingering warmth and sense of well-being unlike anything he’d felt since being turned. Strength suffused his body, and the voices, at least for the moment, remained miraculously still. Not even the low hum of their presence remained. Not that he could hear over the beating of his own heart.

Chrysabelle was at the door. He knew, not because of her unique scent or the familiar rhythm of her heart, but because he could feel her. Sense her in a way he’d not sensed anyone. None of the human donor blood he’d gotten through Sweets had caused this sort of reaction, but then comarré blood was as different from that substance as oil from water.

He moved to the door, shocked at his own speed, and opened it. Her hand was lifted, prepared to knock. The subtle glow that had always surrounded her now radiated with new force.

‘Oh.’ She stared up at him like she was seeing him for the first time. Had her blood changed him that much? ‘You drank it.’

He frowned, reluctant to admit the truth. ‘Yes.’

She glanced down each length of the hall, then stepped inside and shut the door. She sucked in her right cheek, her hands twisting the hem of her borrowed shirt.

‘What?’ Obviously, she had something to say.

She smoothed the hem of the shirt, then crossed and uncrossed her arms. ‘You have to kiss me. Now. While your heart’s still beating.’

‘What?’ He backed up and swallowed, ingesting a breath of Chrysabelle-flavored air. His body tightened. He cursed himself for not pouring the blood out. He should have known there would be strings attached.

‘You took my blood. You can give me this.’

‘I didn’t take it, you offered.’

‘Same difference. Now kiss me.’

‘No. Why?’ Kissing her would be … wrong.

She sighed and looked thoroughly exasperated. ‘It’s part of the exchange.’

‘I didn’t agree to that. I didn’t agree to any of this.’ Irritation nibbled away at the euphoria her blood had given him.

She threw up her hands. ‘Fine. I’ll just start to age, the quality of my blood will deteriorate, and I’ll be unable to defend myself. But that’s just fine.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Beyond the ship’s confines, the night called to him more strongly than it had in decades. He wanted to join it, to revel in its comforting black embrace.

Peering at him intently, she nodded. ‘You want to be out there, don’t you? In the night. Part of it.’

‘What? No.’ He shook his head while taking one step toward the door.

She blocked his path. ‘Not until you kiss me.’ She licked her bottom lip. ‘You owe me.’

His eyes stayed on that lip, studied the deep crimson that evidenced the richness of her blood. Would she taste the way she smelled? Would her lips be as soft as they looked? He’d not kissed a woman in many years.

She notched her head back, lightly rapping it against the door behind her and shaking him from his thoughts. Without realizing it, he’d backed her into the door, pinning her with his arms. Her pulse jumped beneath her skin. He growled softly, making her jerk.

‘Just get it over with.’ She lifted her chin and closed her eyes.

‘Not until you tell me why I owe you.’ He moved his hand to trace a finger across that succulent bottom lip. She shivered under his touch. He was scaring her again, and this time, he didn’t give a damn. She should be afraid. She asked too much.

Opening her eyes, she bent her face away. ‘It’s the rule of the exchange. I give you blood, you give me saliva. If you’d taken from my vein … ’ She paused, and he knew she wanted to say the way you were supposed to, but didn’t. ‘If you had, that part would already be over.’

‘What does it matter?’ His fingers followed the swoop and curl of her signum across her cheek and up to her temple. The beat of her pulse stroked his fingertips, beckoning in a steady, erotic thumping that meshed with the one still filling his body.

‘My blood gives you life. Your bite does the same for me. Keeps me from aging. Makes me strong.’ She dropped her chin, forcing his fingers into the silk of her hair. ‘I am only human, you know.’

‘A kiss will replace a bite?’

‘Yes.’ Her head stayed down. He would have thought the idea repulsed her, but her scent carried the heavy sweetness of lust and the sharp, tinny edge of shame. She desired him and hated herself for it.

The realization made him want to punish her. Prove her right.

‘Fine.’ He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her against the door as his mouth ground down on hers. She made a small, startled sound and tensed. It didn’t slow him. He was careful for nothing, save to keep his fangs sheathed so he wouldn’t nick her. He couldn’t risk that.

She tasted the way she smelled, whiskey strong and honey sweet. She was soft and pliant and dangerous. The tension left her body, and she moved into him with a willingness his body instantly recognized.

He pushed away, ending the kiss as quickly as it had begun. ‘Get Doc and Fi. We’re going to your aunt’s.’ He raised his brows. ‘Unless you require more of me?’ His tone was cruel even to his own ears.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘That will do.’ She seemed dazed. Her heart raced in his ears, faster than his own. Without question, she’d found the kiss pleasurable.