There was a very slight chance she might actually kill him that way, and if she did, she’d be brought up on charges. Unless, of course, she could prove harmful intent. She could see it now.See, Your Honor, he was going to f*ck me silly, make me like it.

I can smell blood, Elena,” Dmitri drawled, walking back into the room. “Are you trying to flirt?

But it was the dark hunger in his tone that got to her. Damn kinky vampire had actually liked the knife.Shit.

Do you know where Jason is?” she asked Dmitri when they exited the morgue.Dmitri pressed the car remote to unlock the flame red Ferrari parked in the employees-only lot. “Tired of your Bluebell already?” A tendril of champagne circled around her senses, cut with something far harder.Never had she felt that harsh edge in Dmitri’s scent. She pitied the woman he took to his bed today.“Yeah, that’s it. I’m building a harem.

In my time,” he said, “they believed in witches. Are you a witch, Honor, that you make me say these things to you?” Causing him to rip open wounds that had stayed safely scabbed over for so long that, most of the time, he managed to forget they existed. Her hands, so very, very gentle, continued to hold his face as she tugged him down until their foreheads touched. “I’m no witch, Dmitri. If I was, I’d know how to fix you.