“Wraith,” Kynan blurted, “bite me.” Okay, maybe he really was drunk.

Wraith paused as he reached for the door handle. “Come on, Ky. I expect a better comeback from you.”

“It’s not a comeback. I want you to feed from me.” I’ll take Things You Never Thought You’d Say for a hundred, Alex.

One tawny eyebrow shot up. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough to affect my judgment.” That was a totally drunk thing to say.

Wraith snorted. “I don’t care about your judgment. I’m wondering ’cause I get a righteous high from the alcohol in the blood.”

“Do you ever have any thoughts that don’t revolve around you?”

Wraith appeared to consider that for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Nope.”

Which wasn’t true, because the demon definitely cared about his brothers, no matter how vehemently he denied it.

“Just do it.”

Wraith stepped away from the door, his eyes narrowed as if he expected Kynan to spring a trap. “Why do you want this?”

“I’m curious.”

“Bullshit. You’ve hunted my kind for years, and now you want to let one suck you dry? And why me? Why not find some hot female vamp for a nice f**k and suck special?”

“I don’t trust anyone else.”

“You shouldn’t trust me,” Wraith growled.

“I don’t. But I know you won’t kill me. The hospital means too much to you, and I’m a damned good doctor you can’t afford to lose.”

“You’re a fool if you think anyone or anything means anything to me.”

“Whatever.” Kynan crossed his feet at the ankles. “You going to bite me or what?”

“Not until you tell me why.”

“I’m giving you a free shot at my blood and you’re playing hard to get? What kind of vampire are you?” When Wraith just stood there, Kynan rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. My blood’s eighty proof. You want it. You know you do.”

Wraith’s eyes sort of glazed over, because, yeah, he wanted it. But the damned demon wouldn’t be deterred. “Tell me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not my type.”

Ky sighed. “I hear you don’t usually feed from females.”

“Female humans. Demon females and male humans are on the menu.”

“Why male humans, but not females?”

“Because men don’t give me wood.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Only if I plan to feed from you. Which I don’t. Unless you tell me why.”

“Because I want to know what my wife felt when you bit her, dammit!” Kynan roared, surprising himself at the ferocity and suddenness of his anger.

Wraith turned away. “I didn’t want to,” he muttered. “I swear.”

Kynan slapped his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. Shit, he was tired. “I know.”

He heard a rustling, the creak of the chair cushion next to him. Wraith’s hand closed on his forearm and brought it to lie, palm up, on the armrest. Ky’s heart began to pound hard in his chest. He didn’t look. Couldn’t. Then came the pain as Wraith’s daggerlike fangs sank into his wrist. A second later, warmth washed over him. Tingles spread through his muscles and nervous system.

God, this felt good.

He slid Wraith a glance. “This isn’t like, vampire gay, is it?”

Wraith snorted and shot him the finger.

Vampires were freaking strange. But he was starting to see why some humans willingly allowed vamps to feed from them. The high was powerful, and probably addictive.

He could imagine how it would feel to have a female doing this. At his throat, pressed up against him, lying on top of him or under him. His body began to stir as Gem became the female crushed beneath him, her teeth latched on to his throat—except she wasn’t a vampire, so the whole idea was ridiculous.

A stream of sensation shot up his arm when Wraith took a particularly strong pull, and damn him for putting the Gem scene in his head earlier, because now he couldn’t get it out of his head. It had been so real it felt like a memory instead of a fantasy.

He could still hear her whispering sexy, naughty things in his ear. The sound of her voice took him deeper into relaxation, lulling him more than the alcohol ever could.

“What. The. Hell?” Gem’s voice drifted to him, crisp and clear.

He peeled open his eyes just enough to see her standing in the living room, arms crossed over her br**sts, which were pushed up into two plump mounds by the midnight-blue corset she wore. If she turned around, he’d bet her skirt would barely cover her ass. Her chunky, high-heeled boots came up over her knees, leaving only her thighs touchably bare.

She’d braided her hair into two ponytails, put on a spiked leather dog collar and black lipstick, and she looked like she was ready to party. Why that thought sent a stab of jealousy through him, he had no idea.

Then again, he was sitting on his couch, drunk, with a vampire latched on to his wrist. Clearly, he was f**ked in the head.

Holy shit, Gem thought. This was … unexpected. Kynan was sprawled on the couch, legs spread, left arm propped on the armrest. Next to him, kneeling on the floor, was Wraith, his mouth firmly attached to Ky’s wrist. When he looked up, his eyes glinted with mischief.

“And I repeat, what the hell? What is going on here?”

Kynan gazed at her with slumberous eyes that made her body flood with heat. “What’s it look like?”

She glared at Wraith. “Looks like someone was too lazy to order a pizza delivery guy for dinner.”

Wraith disengaged his hold and smacked his lips. “This is better. Home cooking.” He held her gaze as he licked the punctures in Kynan’s wrist to seal them. Slowly. Sensually. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

Wraith knew. Knew she wanted Kynan, was toying with her because he was aware of the fact that she wanted to be the one licking the human. And when his nostrils flared, she knew he could smell her arousal.

“Why are you here?” Ky’s voice was husky, lazy, as if he’d just woken up. He’d have a great morning voice.

“Wraith called me.”

Ky shot Wraith a you’re-going-to-get-it look, but Wraith just shrugged and leaped nimbly to his feet. “What? I called while you were in the bathroom. Didn’t think you should be alone. And I gotta go. I need more than the measly pint you gave up.” He headed for the door. “Later.”

Throwing his head back to look at the ceiling fan as it spun in slow circles, Kynan heaved a sigh. “Shit.”

“Shit, is right. What were you thinking? You didn’t do something dumb, like ask him to turn you into a vampire or something, right?”

“I might be guilty of poor judgment, but I’m not stupid or suicidal.”

“Well, don’t get stupid or suicidal, because I don’t think Wraith can turn anyone. He’s not technically undead.”

Kynan threw his arm over his eyes. “Ever think about that, Gem? You know, wonder what kind of person would trust a vampire enough to drain them to the point of death? I mean, what’s to stop a vamp from just leaving them for dead instead of giving them the exchange of the vamp’s own blood?”

“I’m sure that happens.” She looked into his kitchen, which was basically a cove in the corner of his living room. “I’ll get you something to drink. You need to hydrate. And a little tip? Next time you decide to donate blood, give to the Red Cross.”

He said nothing as she searched his fridge, came up with Gatorade, and poured a glass. When she returned to him, he was in the same position, eyes closed, though he’d dropped his arm. She planted one knee on the cushion next to him, lifted his head, and put the glass to his lips.

He emptied half the glass before opening his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Well, you couldn’t very well hydrate on beer,” she said, eyeing the bottles scattered on the end table and floor.

His smile was lopsided as he tugged on one of her braids. Her pulse jumped wildly. “You ever get drunk, Gem? Ever lose yourself in a bottle and hope to drown?”

Abruptly, she became aware of the heat of his outer thigh against her knee, the stroke of his fingers over the braid, the hot fan of his breath across her cheek. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

“You get sick?”

“Yes,” she lied, because she couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now, when he seemed to have forgotten what she was.

Which was a demon of the Fifth Tier, the last, worst level on the Ufelskala, a scoring system for evil. If the demons of her species were tornadoes, they’d be F5s.

That she was only half demon made little difference to her, or to Kynan. She did what she could to contain her Soulshredder half, which included having ensorcelled restraining tattoos inked around her ankles, wrists, and neck. She also avoided alcohol. Drinking reduced her ability to control the demon within.

She’d learned that the hard way, when she’d gotten drunk at a frat party during med school. Something minor had sent her into a rage. Fortunately, she’d recognized the sensation that felt like claws scraping the inside of her skin, and she’d raced for the nearest Harrowgate. Somehow she’d ended up at UG, where Reaver had sedated her until the buzz wore off.

The fallen angel had prevented what would have been a bloody rampage.

Kynan’s knuckles brushed her throat, and at her quick intake of breath, his hand stilled. She searched his face, saw a range of emotions playing out like a movie in fast-forward. Sadness. Fear. Arousal.

Confusion.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

It was the alcohol talking, but she didn’t care. For nearly a year he’d viewed her only as a colleague on a good day, as a demon on the rest. Right now he saw her as a woman, and it didn’t matter that he was looking at her through beer bottle glasses.

Slowly, so as not to startle him or snuff the sexual spark arcing between them, she set down the drink. She lifted her hand to his face, marveling at how his cheek felt hot against her cold palm. He stared at her, and when she swiped her thumb across his full lower lip, his mouth opened, just a little. God, she wanted to kiss him. Instead, she kept stroking. Lightly. Gently.