My cell phone rang. “Hello,” I answered.

“Agent Arthur, are you still questioning Mr. Flannery?” my second-in-command, Tate, asked.

“Yes. This should be wrapped up in thirty minutes.”

Translation: If I didn’t answer again in half an hour, Tate and my team would come in after me.

Tate hung up without further comment. He hated it when I handled things alone, but too bad. Flannery’s house was as quiet as a tomb, apropos as that may be, and it had been a long time since I’d battled with a Master vampire.

“I believe the police told you that the bodies of Thomas Stillwell and Jerome Hawthorn were found with most of their blood missing. And not any visible wounds on them to account for it,” I said, jumping right in.

Liam shrugged. “Does the Bureau have a theory?”

Oh, we had more than a theory. I knew Liam would have just closed the telltale holes on Thomas and Jerome’s necks with a drop of his own blood before they died. Boom, two bodies drained, no vampire calling card to rally the villagers-unless you knew what tricks to look for.

Flatly I shot back, “You do, though, don’t you?”

“You know what I have a theory on, Catrina? That you taste as sweet as you look. In fact, I haven’t thought about anything else since you walked in.”

I didn’t resist when Liam closed the distance between us and lifted my chin. After all, this would distract him better than anything I came up with.

His lips were cool on mine and vibrating with energy, giving my mouth pleasant tingles. He was a very good kisser, sensing when to deepen it and when to really deepen it. For a minute, I actually allowed myself to enjoy it-God, four years of celibacy must be taking its toll!-and then I got down to business.

My arms went around him, concealing me pulling a dagger from my sleeve. At the same time, he slid his hands down to my hips and felt the hard outlines under my pants.