The hand on her rear moved to her thigh. Goose bumps fled across her skin.
"Yeah, but I've learned the hard way its dangerous to mix business with pleasure with someone like Ming."
There went the vague hope that the soul sucker might kill the werewolf in the midst of passion. "So, what sort of business are you in?"
"Feeding the young."
His touch moved under her skirt and caressed bare skin. The tremor that ran through her had nothing to do with desire. She fought the flash of kinetic energy and raised an eyebrow. "Charity work?"
"No. Not unless you consider self-interest a charity." His other hand slid under her breast. She couldn't help trembling again, and he chuckled softly. "Is this what you want?"
He caught a nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezed hard. Her moan was one of pain rather than ecstasy, but he didn't seem to care. He brushed a kiss across her cheek, his breath hot and foul as it fanned her skin. His mouth moved down to hers, but at the last moment she turned away, pressing the slightest kiss to his neck instead. Even that brief contact had her stomach squirming in distaste.
The waves of his aura were blasting her with heated desire. Her ni**les hardened in response, and her breathing became more rapid. Yet they were both outward signs of a response she didn't feel inside.
She swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat and said, "Have you lived around these parts long?"
He shrugged and cupped her breast, kneading it hard through the gauzy material of her shirt. "Ten months."
Energy prickled across her fingertips. She clenched her hand behind him, fighting the desire to smack him across the room. "So you like it here enough to stay?"
He snorted. "No. We're only here until the kids are old enough — " He stopped, suspicion darkening his expression.
Fear stirred. She ran a hand down his body and pressed her palm against the hardness so visible under his jeans. "Perhaps we should do something about this before we continue our chat."
Suspicion fled, replaced by avid hunger. "We could go somewhere more secluded," he whispered into her neck. "And dance a little more intimately."
She shivered. There was no way in hell she was going to be caught alone outside with this man. She didn't like the edge of violence so evident in his aura — and besides, there was the soul sucker to consider. She might be able to cope with one madman, but two was pushing her limits.
"It's too cold outside," she murmured, running a finger back up his chest and undoing the top button of his shirt. "But I noticed earlier that the ladies room has a lock."
Amused anticipation gleamed in his eyes. His hand slid up her thigh and settled on her rear, but his touch was so hot it felt as if he was branding her.
"I like your thinking."
So did she. At least help was within yelling distance if she got into trouble.
"Then let's go."
She stepped away and caught his hand, leading the way through the crowded dance floor. When they neared the restroom she released him, her smile teasing as she looked up. "I'll just go check to make sure we're alone."
"Don't be long." His voice was brusque and edged with hunger.
The urge to run all but swamped her. She forced her smile and entered the restroom. It was empty. She checked the stalls anyway then reached up to close the window.
A warning tingled across the back of her neck, telling her she was no longer alone. She ignored the urge to turn and face him, knowing she had to lock the window just to make sure no one else could join them. Especially the soul sucker
— though a locked window wasn't going to delay her long if she decided to join the party.
He kicked the door shut, then slammed the bolt home. Her heart began a doubletime dance that had nothing to do with desire. She slid her hand into her bag and clenched her fingers around one of the two silver knives she carried.
"Getting a might anxious aren't — " Metal slithered across her throat, cutting off her words. She reacted instinctively, thrusting a hand up to her neck as the wire snapped taut. A ribbon of fire began to burn around her throat and cut into her fingers.
"Did you think a wig would fool us?" he whispered, his breath hot and unsteady against her ear.
She didn't answer. Couldn't answer. The wire was growing tighter, cutting into her fingers and neck. Moisture pulsed down her palm, and her chest burned as air suddenly became scarce.
Energy blistered through every fiber, but she fought desperately against the urge to release it. She didn't dare when he held the garrotte so tight. She might just end up cutting her own throat.