After Lucien left I was discombobulated. On one hand, he was super cute. On the other, I wasn't so sure he was trustworthy. But something was bothering me. The note the agency had left me stated my soulmate was dead. Of course, in this town, that meant undead. Hopefully.

Hank was a ghoul, though I had yet to see him eat anything weird.

Lucien was a vampire with pristine manners and a possibly untrustworthy soul.

Except...I didn't know either man very well. Hank a little more because I'd been using his nursery for quite awhile. He was a big grump and found my hair to be offensive. Again, he thought I was annoying, too.

Lucien, on the other hand, comes onto my property, insults me, then gets caught trespassing red-handed. As soul mate material went, but both of these men weren't high up on my potential mate list. But...both of them were attractive. Hank in a rumpled sort of sweet way. Lucien in a men's cologne and underwear ad kind of way.

But the bigger question was...which one was it? The rational part of me leaned toward Lucien.

Or was it either of them?

Margo curled up next to me on the couch as I went through the massive stack of books I'd brought out from my lab. One of them caught my eye: Through the Veil and Beyond: A Study of What Comes After Death.

That one could work. Even if it was all theoretical. I'd seen this one before but hadn't thought to pick it up. I was more interested in whether I needed to change the bindings up or in any way alter my ritual. Stupid me. I was more concerned with their appearance and how it would affect my clients rather than a fundamental change in their behavior.

I set that one to the side and continued to go through my pile. After setting aside three more books, my stomach began to growl. I grabbed my cell and dialed Pepper.

"Dude!" she shouted into the phone. "Whatcha doing?"

I grinned. She sounded happy. Like she always did. "I'm reading."

"Boo. Hiss," she said. "Want to grab a bite?"

I did. "I do. I haven't been out the house since the court date."

"Let's do it. Meet me at the shop. Wear something cute. We need to try the new restaurant that just opened up."

"Done. Give me thirty."

"Look. Cute," Pepper emphasized. "Not like you're a bookworm who doesn't want to be there."

"I'm wounded," I said, deadpan.

"Good," Pepper said. The phone beeped as she hung up on me.

I snuggled Margo. "She's making me get dressed," I whined. "Want to come with me?"

She put a paw on her nose and stared up at me. "Yeah. I already have regrets."

Ten minutes later I had on a pair of dark skinny jeans, black wedges, and a turquoise tunic. I'd brushed my hair, put on a new pair of contacts and even put on a light coat of makeup. I debated about Margo, but decided that so far she'd been a great girl. I let her out and while she was running around doing her business, I fixed her a plate of food and refilled her water. She came running back in and attacked the food with vigor.

"I'll be back in two hours," I said.

Margo ignored me.

I flipped on the Food Network so she'd have something to listen to and grabbed my purse and headed out.

Pepper's shop looked magical. Of course, just about everything was magical here, minus the couple hundred humans who lived here, but Pepper's shopped just screamed I'M A WITCH. There was a crooked little sign announcing the name of her nursery written in cute curly q font. The building was painted teal and white and there wasn't a single available space where either a plant or a knick knack hadn't been crammed. Little toadstools lined the walkway up to her shop. Creeping rosemary and thyme curled close to my feet as I walked to the entrance. Above me was an arbor carefully cultivated with climbing jasmine, moonflowers, and wisteria. How that wisteria hadn’t sent the arbor crashing down, I would never know.

Hank might have had a gift for plants, but Pepper had a gift for nursery pizzazz. Everything I touched I itched to buy. She carefully chose her plants based upon their aesthetics, their magical properties and their scent patterns. Granted, she had a lot of flowers with no scent, but she also had tons of flowers with gorgeous heady scents that filled my head. I just felt good when I came into her store. Whether it was the plants, the kitschy knick-knacks scattered everywhere or the positivity charm she had hanging above the door, I didn't care.

Pepper's place was awesome.

I pushed through the door sending the harmony bell above my head jingling through the store. I inhaled the scent of the tobacco flowers she had growing right by the entrance. Incense and something else added to those scents made it an intoxicating combination. I called her name but no one answered. I walked through marveling at the new arrivals of stained glass and goddess water fountains until I found her in the classroom at the very back of the store.

I peeked through the window and gave her a little wave. She held a finger up and I turned to explore the rest of her shop. It had been a couple of weeks since I'd been in and she'd rearranged it...again. She claimed it was due to feng shui and energy, but I just thought she had too much nervous energy and needed to stay busy.

Maybe good feng shui helped that. I wouldn't know feng shui if it bit me in the butt, but I liked my reading chair positioned with its back toward the kitchen so I wouldn't have to turn the living room light on to read. It was both energy savvy and lazy, two of my favorite things.

Five minutes later my friend exited the classroom and gathered me in a hug. She smelled like sage and jasmine. Wild black hair curled around her face and her pretty blue eyes were accentuated with gold eyeliner. "Karina is back there. We have a Wicca for Beginners class going on." She rolled her eyes. "It's the newest batch of human high schoolers. We could teach them about Wicca until we’re blue in the face, but they’re never going to get it until they realize the only tools they need to perform real magic are inside of them." Pepper grinned. "But until then, we have this fancy bunch of hand crafted wands we upsell by three hundred percent!"

I snickered and leaned over the case to look at the overpriced wands. "They're pretty," I remarked.

"They sure are. And about as magical as my left toe."

I gave her the once over. "Maybe my left toe. Yours is pretty magical."

"True," she said, "but you get my drift."

I did. Pepper was always bitching about the Wiccans. As a powerful hereditary witch, Pepper couldn't stand to see someone's potential wasted with what she called "pansy" magic. By this she meant the whole law of attraction thing that had become so popular over the last five years. This was the kind of magic where you sent your request out into the universe and thought positively. She equated her Wicca classes to this, but when she tried to change them to get into the deep roots of magic, her students dropped exponentially. So she was forced to go where the market was. Light magic, woo woo light stuff, and upselling products she didn't think people needed. Pepper might have been a witch first, but she was a businesswoman second, and if people wanted to spend too much on pretty wooden wands, she was going to give it to them. And then bitch to me in private.

"Where are we going?" I asked as Pepper dragged her jacket on. I was pleased to say she no longer looked like a Harley Quinn goth queen, but she still looked pretty over the top. That was just Pepper.

She wore a blue and white tartan skirt because she had announced she was binge watching Doctor Who for the next two months, a white collared camp shirt, and a pair of black combat boots. If anyone who wasn't a Doctor Who fan saw her, they'd probably think she just looked like a rebellious Catholic school drop out.

"Marco's," she said. "It's about time we got a good Mexican restaurant in this place." She grabbed her keys and headed out of the shop, flipping her sign to Closed and punching a code in the locking pad on her door. Her assistant would let the students out later, but locking them in meant Karina wouldn't have to deal with customers while she was teaching.

I headed around to the passenger side of Pepper’s small pickup truck. As much as she hated having to drive a truck, she needed it to haul plants and other things to and from her nursery. She wasn't like Hank in that she grew everything from seed. Pepper was more of a plant hunter. She researched, shopped around, and would usually drive at least a few hours to pick up a new plant that caught her eye.

I slid into the seat and got a whiff of loamy earth. Double checking to make sure I wasn't sitting in dirt, I discreetly wiped the seat before Pepper unlocked her door.

"I saw that," she said.

"I don't often dress up. I don't want any mud on me."

She rolled her eyes. "Dirty is the new black."

"No. It isn't, dork."

"I picked up some corpse plants," she said, her eyes sparkling as she checked her mirrors. "I've never been able to get those before. They are going to smell so bad when they finally bloom!" She cackled as she pulled out of the lot.

"Can't wait," I said, my tone dry as dust.

"You're going to be front row! People drive for miles to see this kind of stuff. Speaking of that, when do I get to see the layout Hank came up with?"

We chatted for awhile about the permaculture plan until she pulled into a brightly lit restaurant. On the top of the building was a massive sign with three neon Mariachi players that lit up in time with the music blaring from the speakers.

"My," I said. "This is loud."

"Right?" Pepper exclaimed, enthralled. "I've been wanting to try this place for weeks!"

I was a little less excited because the parking lot was jam packed with people. "Don't worry," Pepper said as she climbed out, "I used that new app to reserve us a seat. We shouldn't have to wait long at all."

We pushed through the doors only to get assaulted with the spicy scent of salsa, sizzling meat, and people. We had to practically elbow our way up to the front. Pepper gave the hostess our names and the woman smiled at us and grabbed two menus.

"Right this way."

We got some dirty looks but I kept mumbling to everyone, "We used an app, we used an app." No one cared.

I followed Pepper to our seats marveling at the decor of the place. Used hubcaps were attached to the ceiling. The floors were a bright, searing orange, and the music was a cross between mariachi and hip-hop which was so weird I wanted to put my hands over my ears and yell make it stop! But Pepper seemed to fit right in. She waved at a bunch of people she knew and I smiled politely at them even as their mouths turned down once they saw me. Funny. I lived in a town full of paranormals where most couldn't step outside of the boundaries of Midnight Cove because of their appearance, and they still judged me. Sometimes I wanted to grab them by the shoulders, shake them, and scream, "DO YOU NOT SEE THE TUSKS COMING OUT OF YOUR HEAD?" Their prejudices against me were bizarre especially when I had no doubt they'd spent most of their lives being judged. But this is what Midnight Cove was. A haven for us. Even if we couldn't get past our own judgments.

We finally made it to our seat and I slid into the small both, surprised at both its size and comfort. But immediately, I felt like someone was staring at me. I looked up and lo and behold. Right in front of me, in the booth right behind us sat Hank.

I groaned internally. Hank scowled at me.

But what was worse about the whole thing was he was not alone. I couldn't see the face of the woman he was with, but I could vaguely make out her scent.

She was a ghoul, too.

Pepper, seeing my face, turned her head around. "Hey, Hank!" she said and waved.

He gave her an awkward little wave and she turned around. "Oh my gods, that's Charity from the library," she stage whispered.

"Charity?" I gave a little shake of my head. "No idea."

"She’s not a librarian. She just helps scan the books out. She's fairly new here, but word on the street is she's single and ready to mingle, if you know what I mean." Pepper gave me a lusty wink.

"Very nice," I said to her and gave her a grossed out look.

She snickered and snapped her menu open.

I had no idea why I was feeling so conflicted. Hank looked handsome as sin. I couldn't tell if he was wearing jeans, but in a place like this I would expect them. He wore a vivid blue button down shirt. His hair was brushed back from his face and he was freshly shaven. He looked nothing like the rumpled man who'd showed up at my house this morning. I gave a finger wave and turned my attention to the menu. I was going to do my best to keep my eyes on Pepper even though he was seated at such an angle that I was going to see him every time I looked up.

Kill me now.

But Hank was entitled to be on a date. I was not entitled to be jealous. He'd told me more than once I wasn't his type. It was about time I listened to him.

Pepper and I were on our second margarita and third bowl of chips when we finally burst out into hysterical laughter over Hank and Charity. She had a laugh like I'd imagine a Disney mouse would, high pitched and chittering. But the latter part of her laugh sounded like she was chomping on wood while having an asthma attack. Pepper first pointed it out to me and we'd stared at each other like we'd both gotten the best Christmas presents ever. But we kept our mouth shut because we were too close to actively talk about it without possibly being heard.

So we kept drinking and every sip of margarita that went down made it harder and harder for us to stop listening.

I knew for a fact that Hank wasn't as funny as Charity was making him out to be. Or, if he was, he never showed that side to me. Figured, he was on a date with her. Why would he waste all of his good jokes on me?

But after a particularly rowdy joke, I guessed, Charity was laughing so hard she sounded like a dying animal. Pepper and I both pressed our lips together, stared at each other with wide eyes, and did our best not to make a sound. It lasted for about ten seconds. Pepper's nostrils started flaring and her cheeks flared out like she was having an allergic reaction.

I broke first.

We laughed so hard tears streamed from our face, but we were trying to keep it quiet, which made it worse. On top of that, I accidentally made eye contact with Hank. His eyes were sparkling with mirth which made me laugh even harder.

Charity turned around and greeted us with a bright smile. She was a pretty girl, but I suspected I knew why she was still single. That laugh could stop a train. "Oh my goodness," she declared. "Aren't you two having a grand time?" She was blonde, petite, and had pretty blue eyes ringed with long black lashes. Her nose turned up at the end and her ears were perfect and flat to her head. From what I could tell, Charity was wearing a strappy dress designed to show off her tan shoulders and decolletage.

"It's Pepper," I said, wheezing with laughter. "She's hilarious."

Pepper snorted with laughter and did her best to wipe her eyes. "Helen is correct. It's true. I am hilarious."

"Well, maybe we should sit with you!" she declared.

My eyes widened. I threw a frantic look at Hank who looked just as weirded out as I did. "Oh no," I said and tried not to wince as I realized how strangled I sounded. "You're on a date. Please continue." I waved my hand dismissively.

Pepper's eyes narrowed. "But we have room over here if you want to!"

No, I mouthed to Pepper who gave me a wicked little grin.

"What do you say, Hank? Want to join your friends?"

I gave him a frantic little headshake. He opened his mouth, shut it, and finally sighed. "Sure."

Nooooooooo. If I could have murdered him with that look I would have. I went to move over to Pepper's side, but Charity with the wood chomper laugh scooted right in next to her, forcing Hank to scoot in next to me. The booth wasn't all that big and our thighs were melded together. The warmth of him went right through my jeans. I was going to kill him, then I was going to kill Pepper. And then I was going to kill them both again for good measure.

"Long time, no see," she said to Pepper.

“I haven’t been reading much,” Pepper admitted. “Mostly I just meddle in other people’s lives.”

“Oh,” Charity said and gave Pepper a funny look which my friend returned with an innocent smile.

“Have you ordered yet?” Hank asked after he cleared his throat in warning.

I shook my head. “Just a few minutes ago. They cleared out our appetizer.”

"The service is really slow here."

Yes, I thought, and our conversation is really awkward. "I can flag him down if you want to put your order in." I saw our waiter and waved both of my hands in the air. The faster he ordered, the faster he could eat, the faster we could get out of this terrifyingly awkward situation.

When he finally made it over and Hank and Charity ordered, the silence was deafening. Pepper finally spoke. "So, Hank, I heard you created a pretty cool landscape for Helen."

Hank brushed off the compliment. "It's sustainable and will come back year after year. I made it as low maintenance as I could get it."

"So you like low maintenance, Hank?" Pepper said.

I shut my eyes and silently counted to ten.

"I do," Hank said through gritted teeth. "I also like silent things."

I snorted out a laugh. "Lawnmowers must be torture for you."

"Among other things," he said.

The area between Charity's brow wrinkled. "So how do you know Hank, Helen?"

"I've known him for awhile. I come into his nursery a lot. I just hired him to do a project for me. How about you?"

Charity beamed and I felt Hank squirm a little bit. He was uncomfortable.

Good.

"He comes in the library every so often. I never can find the books he wants, but I help scan them out!"

"Oh, that's wonderful," I said weakly. "How long have you been dating?" I was being nosey.

Charity's perfect little cheeks pinkened. "Oh. Umm, a few months, I guess."

I choked on a sip of my margarita. "Oh, really? Wow!" I nudged Hank with an elbow. "That's wonderful! Things must be going really well."

I hissed in pain as something pinched my thigh. I looked down and Hank's hand was on my leg. I forced a grin. "Sorry about that. I hurt my ankle the other day and I twinged it wrong."

Pepper was having so much fun she looked high. She wore a crazy smile and her eyes were glazed. Also, maybe that had a little bit to do with the margaritas too.

I smacked Hank's hand off my leg.

Charity nodded. "They are! Hank is wonderful. He's coming to meet my parents in a few weeks."

Hank stiffened beside me. I think he was surprised by this. Served him right.

"Helen had a surprise visit from the Deadication Dating Agency," Hank announced.

I reached over and pinched right on the inside of his thigh, perilously close to his jingle bells. He hissed in pain and clapped my hand down.

Right on his crotch.

Color rose high on my cheeks.

But that wasn't the only thing that was rising.

So. Huh. Hank was a big ol' liar. My hair color based upon the woman sitting right in front of me was just fine. And his reaction to my hand was also just fine.

Two could play that game. I gently squeezed.

Hank hissed.

But it wasn't in pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked innocently.

"Fine," he said. "Just fine."

Charity's brows drew together in concern. "Was it the appetizer? Is your stomach okay?"

Hank forced a laugh. I stroked the length of him through his pants. He pressed his lips together. I noticed he had not moved his hand from over mine.

"I'm fine. Just getting really hungry." Hank's hand ventured over and onto the top of my thigh.

We had to stop.

This was getting out of hand. We were in a public restaurant for crying out loud.

"Me, too," Charity said. "I feel like I've been hungry for days." She bent her head to look at her phone. Perfect date behavior.

Hank's gaze met mine. "Me too," he said.

We both knew he wasn't talking about the food.

Woo boy.

Thankfully the waiter chose that moment to deliver the third round of drinks I'd placed before Charity had crashed our party. Hank loosened his hand from mine and I regretfully pulled away. I needed to focus on anything but what just happened. I took a long pull of my margarita and allowed the frigid drink to replace some of the heat I'd just experienced.

"This dating agency," Charity asked, coming back around to our conversation before we got so sidetracked, "they find you your soul mate? I've heard of them but I'm pretty new here."

I nodded. "Supposedly. They work in secret. It's...odd. They contact you and from what everyone tells me things just sort of fall into place. Though not always perfectly at first."

She frowned. Even that was pretty. "What if you don't like each other?"

Hank was staring at me.

"Then I can only assume you aren't soul mates." I took another long drink. "I received a puppy and a letter."

"A puppy?" she practically squealed.

"I named her Margo. She's pretty amazing."

"But why did they give you a puppy?"

I had no idea. "Maybe they thought I needed one? Maybe it was part of the package? Even if I don't find my soulmate, I'm keeping her." And I was. Margo had annoyingly wormed her way into my heart.

"Have you met him yet?"

Hank's eyes were burning a hole in the side of my face. "Yes, I haven't heard this part. Have you met him?"

I bared my teeth in a grin. "I'm not sure. Today I had a strange visit from a handsome vampire. He showed up again tonight and we had coffee."

Hank stiffened beside me. "He did?" he asked and I could practically hear his teeth grind.

Didn't like blondes, my butt.

"He did. He asked me out this weekend, but I haven't decided."

Charity clapped her hands together. "You should go!"

Pepper was giving me an appraising look. "We didn't get the chance to chat about that. Who was it?"

"His name is Lucien Nightingale."

Pepper's eyebrows went up. "Really? He's a handsome devil."

"He sure is. Margo caught him out back and she cornered him."

"What was he doing out there?" Hank practically had steam rolling from his ears.

"It's a long story, but I invited him in. He stayed for a little while and we chatted." I leaned forward. "He said I was ravishing."

Pepper and Charity grinned and high fived me.

Hank sat like a stone in his seat.

We were interrupted by the waiter, thank goodness. He set our plates out efficiently. I thanked him for getting everything at the same time and he gave me a baleful stare and left. He was just full of personality. Perhaps we should have ordered before we had all of that to drink. Speaking of which, my head was starting to feel pleasantly fuzzy now. I tucked into my fajitas and we finally had five minutes of blissful silence.

This night would go down as one of the most awkward dinners I'd ever had.

Thirty minutes later, Charity excused herself. Pepper ran after her and asked if she could get a ride. "Pepper," I stage whispered, "I am going to KILL you!" She gave me a cheery wave and hopped into the car with Hank's date. And Charity. Was she really that naive? Good gracious.

So that was how Hank and I ended up standing in the parking lot together. Alone. And me without a ride.

I sighed. "I can call a cab," I said. Most people were nocturnal around here so the cab service was really good.

"Nonsense," Hank said. "I can give you a ride. Come on."

We walked in silence to his truck. He held open the door for me and I hopped in. When he came around and slid in the vehicle, I turned to him. "Should we talk about that?"

Hank grunted and started the car.

"You like blondes," I said. "You like them a lot."

"I don't like them a lot," he growled.

"You like Charity." I hated the way I sounded. A little sad. A little lost. A little drunk.

Hank let out an aggrieved sigh. "Perhaps we should discuss this when you aren't under the influence of about sixty ounces of margarita?"

"Pssssh. No way that was sixty ounces."

"Give or take five." Hank pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I believe I did," he retorted.

"You like Charity."

"That wasn't a question, Helen."

"Well, do you?"

Hank looked like he was chewing on nails. "Charity is nice," he finally allowed.

"That's all?"

He shook his head. "What are you asking me? In fact, why do you care?"

I jerked back. "Why do I care?"

"Yes! You barely gave me the time of day any time you walked into my nursery. You barely even looked at me!"

I blinked at him. "You didn't give me the time of day!" It was the best comeback I could think of through my fuzzy thoughts.

"I always tried to talk to you!"

My mouth worked like a fish out of water. "Are you kidding me? Telling me I can't pick out my own damn plants is not a conversation maker! And I don't look at anyone in this town because everyone hates me!" I gasped as soon as I said it.

Hank slowed down and took a turn off onto a side road. There were no street lamps. No houses, no stores. Just us and the dash lights. He put it into park.

"Explain," he gritted out.

I leaned my head back against the seat. "No."

Hank turned off the vehicle. The only sound was the ticking of the engine and our breath. "Explain why you think people hate you."

"I'd rather talk about why you're grumpy."

"I'll tell you why I'm grumpy if you tell me why you think people hate you."

I looked at him sideways. "Really?"

"Cross my heart."

"They hate me because they're scared of me."

Silence fell in the cab of the truck.

"I find that a little hard to believe," Hank said. "Have you seen yourself? You're like a hundred pounds soaking wet and you have the face of a pissed off angel."

A smile pulled at the side of my mouth. "It's my power. Death scares people."

Hank rested his hands on the steering wheel. "Death is terrifying. But it's also natural. And it's something we work toward every day. Most of us anyway. Do you really feel like that, Helen?"

I nodded. "People cross the street trying to get away from me. They whisper about me behind my back." I sighed. "When I was a child they used to tease me about wanting to be friends with dead things."

Hank let out a soft breath.

"The truth is," I said, "the dead are easier to talk to. Easier to relate to. There's nothing they have to strive for anymore. Their burdens are cast aside. Their work is done. We spend so much of our lives working toward some unattainable goal that we forget to live." I rubbed my eyes and let out an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm a little bit toasted."

"More like quite hammered," Hank said. "But isn't that when our truths come out?"

"Tell me why you're so grumpy," I said, changing the subject.

"I'm not really grumpy."

I punched him on the arm. "You are. You're like that guy that screams at everyone to get off his lawn."

"I find people to be disappointing," he admitted after a long silence.

"Why?"

"They don't keep their promises. They cheat and lie and look the other way when people are hurting. Sometimes I find the world of the living to be a difficult place to live."

"That's...sad."

He smiled and reached over to hook his fingers through mine. "But there are a few people who make it worthwhile."

"If you say me, I'm going to blubber all over your truck. I'm an emotional drunk, Hank. Don't make it weird."

Hank chuckled, unclicked my seatbelt and pulled me over to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned against his chest. "Do you think it's because you've been alive so long?" I asked him.

"Are you calling me old?"

"Ghouls live a long time. It's one of the first things we crazy necromancers learn."

His breath hitched against my ear. One of his fingers lazily stroked my hair. "No. It's because I've never been around good people. Until recently. I've hired some wonderful people in the nursery. I met you."

"What about Charity?"

Hank chuckled. "I need to talk to her. We haven't actually gone on four dates and there's no way in Hell I'm meeting her parents. I got tricked into one date. Then she invited me to something at the library. The third time I got caught when the nursery guys invited me out for a beer and she was standing right there." He paused.

"So you have been on four dates then?"

"Crap."

"She seems nice enough."

"She's about as bright as a penny buried underneath a pound of sand."

"Ouch." I tried another tactic. "She's pretty."

"She's tolerable."

"She's tan."

"She uses a tanning lotion and has to be woefully low on vitamin D."

"Do ghouls even need vitamin d?"

I felt his shoulder rise and fall. "No idea, but I had to come up with something witty."

"Should we talk about our table pinching?"

Hank laughed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know. Maybe now is the best time because I hope not to remember this tomorrow."

Hank kept toying with my hair and it was causing a slow ache to build inside me. "You pinched me," I accused. "I'm going to bruise."

"You pinched me back in an even worse area."

I smiled against his chest. "You totally deserved it."

"But you didn't quit there, did you?"

"Only because you wouldn't move your hand."

Hank tilted my chin up. Our lips were perilously close. "Was that the only reason?"

I swallowed hard and shook my head slowly. "Having my hand right there made me realize you didn't mind blondes at all."

"Not blondes, Helen. You." Hank swept his lips across mine, a light feathery touch. I gasped as heat flooded me. He stilled, stared down at me, and placed his lips on mine, this time searching and hungry. His tongue flicked out to touch mine and I fisted his shirt in my hands. His head dipped down and his hand cupped the back of my neck as he plundered my lips. I shifted my body, flicked off his seatbelt, and adjusted myself until I was on top of him.

Hank never broke our kiss and I gasped against his mouth as his hands reached down and grasped my waist, pushing me down against the heat of him. I rocked my hips and caught his gasps with my mouth.

"Helen."

I groaned as his fingertips reached up to brush the tips of my breasts. "Hank, god."

The tapping of metal on glass broke us apart like two kids caught under the bleachers. I scrambled off him. Hank sat up, adjusted his shirt and rolled his window down.

Oh. My. God.

I hid my face.

"Hank," the officer said, and I could practically hear the laughter in his voice.

"Jimmy," Hank said. I was pleased to note his voice sounded a little bit husky.

"Looks like you've got your hands full," he said.

I wanted to groan at the terrible pun, even though technically his hands were no longer full.

Hank let out a deep breath. "Sorry about that. We got a little bit carried away. We'll leave."

"Not so fast," Jimmy said. "Who's your lucky friend?"

He shone the light over and I had no choice but to look at him. Jimmy's eyes widened and he took two full steps away.

Hank's brows flew together and he looked at me and back at Jimmy. "Is there a problem here?"

Jimmy sneered. "No problem. Not if you like chicks that play with dead things."

Full on rage appeared on Hank's face, the likes of which I'd never seen. "I'm sure you'd like to apologize to the lady, Jimmy."

Jimmy choked on a laugh. "I'm sure I wouldn't. People around the courthouse call her the Corpse Fuc-"

Hank punched him right through the window. Jimmy went down like a stone.

"Shit," I whispered. "Shit. Shit. Shit." I gave Hank an anguished stare. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. So so sorry."

Hank held a hand up. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said practically spitting with anger. He stepped out of his truck and made his way over to the patrol car. Me, not wanting to see what was going to happen next, stayed put, though I did peek out of the cab to make sure Jimmy was still breathing.

A few minutes later, Hank got back into the truck. "We'll wait for a patrol car to come and pick him up." At my terrified glance, his face softened. "He'll be fine. He isn't human."

"You knocked him clean out."

Hank rubbed his knuckles. "I told you. Speed and strength are two of our gifts."

I fell silent. What could I say to him? I knew he hadn't exactly believed me when I told him about the townsfolk, but maybe now he would.

"'I'm sorry that happened," he said to me.

"Don't apologize for punching him."

His stare was incredulous. "I'm not apologizing for punching him! He deserved it twenty times over. I'm apologizing that he said those things about you!" He rubbed a hand across his mouth. "Geez, Helen. You have to step up and be proud of who you are. People like Jimmy are in the minority, but they can poison the well. He deserved it," he said again. "I'll keep saying it until you believe me." Hank slammed a hand down on his steering wheel. "Plus we were having a pretty amazing makeout session and it got interrupted by that idiot."

That was true. The unconscious cop lying in the middle of the road put the kibosh on that, though. I blew out a breath and wrapped my arms around myself. “This is really bad.”

“Jimmy deserved it. I explained what happened over the radio. Don’t worry about it. I have family in the police department.”

I turned to look at him. “Really?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “My father is the sheriff.” Flashing lights pulled up behind us. “I’m sorry you have to meet him this way.”

Before I could squawk out a response, a voice came out from the loudspeaker on the patrol car. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

Hank groaned. “My dad is such a drama queen.”

I put my hands on the dashboard.