He nodded. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

She took a breath. “Turn me into a vampire.”

“So you are the man who killed my husband?” Heaven stood atop the step that led into the sunken living room, dressed in a one-shoulder python-print minidress that revealed more of the grieving widow than it covered. The last time Doc had seen a woman who looked like her, he’d been flipping through one of Fi’s fashion magazines. Lean, dark, dangerous, and beautiful. High maintenance. Totally Sinjin’s type.

“Yeah.” He inhaled, the exotic scent of jaguar filling his nose along with the flowery fragrance of some perfume. Or hair products. Or skin lotion. Hard to tell with a woman like that.

Her eyes flickered from tawny brown to green-gold, showing off her varcolai side. His answer angered her. Her spike heels clicked down the steps until they were on the same level. “Is that all you have to say for yourself? Yeah?” She mimicked his American accent with obvious disdain before shifting back to her Brazilian lilt. “You killed my husband and you cannot even apologize? Or perhaps you are not sorry?”

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to kill Sinjin. He attacked me and—”

“He challenged you and you accepted. You knew what was at stake.”

“He came at me.”

“They say you went up in flames. Burned him to death.” She eyed him warily as if looking for fire to burst off his skin. “Varcolai can’t do that.”

“And neither can I,” he lied. Since he’d started popping ketamine, the emotions that caused the flames had been so mellowed out that even at his most angry, nothing happened. “It was just a weird power brought on by Samhain.”

She crossed and uncrossed her arms, obviously unsettled. “You could have let him go. Let the police deal with him. At least if he were still alive…” She ground her teeth in anger and turned away.

“If he was still alive but in police custody, you’d be pride leader by default.” He plopped down on the couch—his couch now—and kicked his feet up onto the glass coffee table. “I get it. You’re bunched up because you’re not the boss. You should have spilled your plans to Sinjin before he decided to up and kill some innocent women. Or maybe you knew what he was doing.”

She spun back around, gold bangles jangling on her wrist as she lifted her hands in expression. “I had no idea.”

“You had no idea what your husband was up to.” He raised a brow, then snorted softly. “I take it this was a political marriage only, then.”

She lifted her head slightly. “I cared for Sinjin, but you know how it is with pride leaders. Marriage is for making alliances.” She sat at the far end of the big sectional, crossing her feet at the ankles and tucking them to the side. “I knew he was intent on stirring up the city against the vampires.” The way she pronounced vampires gave it an extra syllable. Vam-pi-years.

“Would you have stopped him if you’d known how?”

She nodded, eyes downcast. “I would have tried. Sinjin was not… an easy man to have his mind changed.”

Doc snorted again. “You don’t have to tell me.”

She looked up. “He kicked you out, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And now you are pride leader.” Her fingers twisted the rock that was her engagement ring. “And my husband.”

He shifted forward. This was just the opening he needed. “Look, I know you didn’t sign on for this—and I’m sure you never agreed to get hitched thinking you’d have a stranger for a husband a few months after you said I do. I’m cool to have the whole thing annulled or whatever needs to take place to make the marriage go away.”

Her fingers stopped fussing with the ring and her head jerked up, her spine straightening like a rod had been shoved through it. “You think I am so easy to get rid of? Do you know who my father is? Rodrigo Silva. The São Paulo pride leader. He commands more than ten thousand varcolai. Do you wish to anger him? Because I’m sure he would love to hear how you so casually desire to toss me aside.”

Dammit. “That’s not what I meant. I was trying to do you a favor.”

“A favor. Pah.” She spat air at him, flicking her fingers. “We are married. You must accept that.” She crossed her arms and stared away from him, muttering in Portuguese.

“Look, you don’t understand. I have—”

Her head whipped around. “What is the matter with me? Do you not find me attractive?”

“Of course you’re attractive. You’re beautiful.” Some of the anger left Heaven’s face. Thank Bast Fi wasn’t here. “But it doesn’t matter what you look like, because—”

“Ah, I see now.” She raked her gaze down his body, head waggling back and forth. “You do not like the girls, eh? You prefer men—is that it?”

“No! Hell no.” He growled softly. This was so not going how he’d pictured it. “Listen to me. What I’m trying to tell you is I’m already in love with another woman.”

“Love.” She waved her hand at him. “An emotion that comes and goes.”

“Heaven, she’s my fiancée. I plan to marry her.”

He waited, watching the words sink in. Her expression went blank; then her eyes took on the greenish gold of her true nature.

“So the rumors about the ghost girl are true?” Her mouth twitched into a grimace.