Lauren had made fettuccini Alfredo, and I had to admit it was excellent. The sauce was creamy with just the right amount of freshly ground black pepper and chicken. I bit into a warm breadstick smothered in butter and sprinkled with Italian herbs.

"Lauren, you have a phone call." I nearly dropped my fork at the sound of Normani's voice. I hadn't heard her enter the room nor had I heard a telephone ring.

"Downstairs," Normani told Lauren, as she stood. I watched Lauren leave the room until she was out of sight. Normani stayed in the doorway, staring at me. I resisted the urge to throw my fork at her because a fork probably wouldn't hurt her.

She'd taken off the spiffy trench coat and was wearing a form-fitting black shirt with slits up the sides of her torso. A line of white skin peeked through the buckles that held the slits together. Normani propped herself against the archway, turning at the hip to reveal the silhouette of her breasts where the fabric clung to them. It took me a second glance to realize her nipples weren't hard; they were pierced and she was showing them off.

I met her amethyst stare, giving her the blankest expression I could muster. The expression must've worked because the grin on her face faltered.

"Those must've hurt," I said.

"It felt good to me." She raised her hand as if to touch them.

I busied myself by twirling a small amount of fettuccini around my fork.

"You don't strike me as the masochistic type."

"I have varied tastes."

"Goody for you." I raised the fork to my mouth and drew the noodles off with my teeth. If she wanted to have a stare-down, fine. I could do that.

"You would be such fun to play with." She said it almost wistfully, and I relaxed. I could win this round.

Dinah remained silent, as if she didn't want to draw attention. I ignored Normani's comment. She was just trying to get under my skin, and if I threw a witty reply at her, she'd find one to throw right back. Dinah leaned over her bowl and I suddenly realized just how submissive Dinah could be, even though she was beta wolf of the Blackthorne Pack. She might as well be on her back, offering up her soft belly. That said something about either Normani and whatever she was or Dinah. I wasn't sure which.

"How long were you in gymnastics?" I asked, changing the subject and referring to the backflip she had done when Lauren set a beautiful dinner on the table. Dimah's gaze flicked nervously from my face to Normani, who laughed before she turned to leave the room.

"Five years," Dinah said. "She wants you to top her."

"What?"

"Normani. She wants you to top her."

"As in?"

"BDSM."

"Yeah, I got that. She wants me to top her?"

"Um, yeah. At least, I think that's what she's doing."

I actually laughed. "No, I think Normani would rather top me than play the role of the bottom."

"You heard what she said about having varied tastes. I know for a fact she went to see Vanessa once."

"Wait, Vanessa? As in the vampire Vanessa?"

Dinah nodded.

"What does she have to do with it?"

"She's a pro-domme."

I knew a little about BDSM because I'd entertained the idea once or twice. I'd done a little nail digging and biting with the women in my past, but after being infected with lycanthropy, rough play seemed like a bad idea, especially with a human. I hadn't been intimate with a human woman since then. Remembering what I'd done to Lauren's thighs and what might've happened if I'd lost control or if it had been closer to the full moon confirmed that not being with a human was a wise decision. Lauren could handle me and my beast.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Vanessa is a professional dominatrix."

I stared at her. "You're kidding me. She gets paid to spank and fuck people? Isn't that close to prostitution?"

She gave me a look. "Prostitution is illegal."

"It doesn't mean people don't do it."

"A pro-domme isn't a prostitute. A lot of people have that misconception. A true pro-domme doesn't have sex with her clients."

"She just spanks them?"

Dinah grinned. "And a little more, I'm sure. She's not allowed to sleep with them. I don't think she'd want to and Lauren would tear her head off if she solicited uncivilized behavior at the club."

"She's a pro-domme at the club?"

"Yes."

I shuddered, remembering Vanessa's piercing sea-green eyes. Her presence made me weak in the knees.

Is that why she had been staring at me? Is that why she had called me a pet? I straightened my spine. I never had been, and never would be, someone's pet werewolf.

Dinah was watching me intently. "It's very professional. Both parties have to consent." She gathered our bowls and the breadstick plate from the table. "You sign a contract and everything. A lot of the time, there's an undercurrent of sexuality to it," she said, "but sex is never involved. It's more about the power exchange. The submissive gives most of their control to the dominant. For some bottoms, it's a therapeutic release."

"How is giving all your control to someone else therapeutic? Doesn't the submissive give all their power to the dominant?"

Dinah looked thoughtful, standing near the curtain. "It may look that way, but in reality the submissive has the power to use the safe word."

"Safe word?"

"Or sign, depending on the agreement. The safe word is what protects the submissive. It keeps the dominant from going too far."

I leaned back in my seat, "You sound like you have experience."

"My ex-girlfriend was a little freaky," she said, balancing our plates in her hands. "That's all I'm saying."

When Dinah left the room to put dishes in the dishwasher, my mind reeled. Vanessa was a dominatrix. Dinah had made a valid point. Was she right? Was Normani pushing my buttons because she wanted me to get pissed and try to hurt her? If I hurt her, would I be doing exactly what she wanted?

Lauren emerged from downstairs, calling me out of my thoughts. "Dinah, a visitor will arrive shortly. Will you escort her to the parlor?"

Dinah walked back into the room. "I will."

"What's going on?" I asked Lauren, searching her blank expression for an answer.

"Vanessa thinks she has found the vampire that turned Jacob."

"Are we sure Jacob's been turned?"

"If he hasn't been, why would the vampires have stolen the body?"

I pulled my hair up. "Right. Maybe a pedophile with a thing for necrophilia is on the loose." I dropped my hair. "Oh, Gods."

"What?" Lauren looked worried.

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm not saying that thought out loud. It'll sound so much worse if I do."

"Camila, tell me."

"Just because you're undead it doesn't make me a—"

"A necrophiliac?"

I gave a slight nod.

"I am quite sure the term is only applicable to predators that enjoy their prey cold and unmoving." She touched my cheek gently as if trying to wipe the horror from my face. "As you said to your detective friend earlier this evening, I am undead, not dead." She caught my wrist, placing my hand on her chest. I felt the air swirl into her lungs. "Do the dead do this?"

"That's the thing," I said, "you don't have to breathe. Hell, sometimes you don't even have a heartbeat. It's like you guys get this on-and-off switch."

"Not quite. It is only a natural part of our survival ability to shut off our bodies. It aids a vampire in hunting." She pulled me into the circle of her arms, and I didn't struggle or try to pull away. She didn't feel cold and empty, which was enough to chase the thought away. The reality was she died at dawn. Well, most of the time. As far as I was concerned she was alive, not the way I was alive, but alive enough to will her own heart to beat.

I stood on my tiptoes, offering my lips. She kissed me.

"Better?" she murmured.

I nodded, not needing to explain. She knew it was taking me time to get used to everything. Even before I'd been infected I hadn't exactly been great at relationships. I loved being in them but hated having them blow up in my face. In the past, I always got with women I had absolutely nothing in common with.

Lauren understood me. She saw me, not what she thought I could be or what I could do for her or how I looked in the crook of her arm. I didn't have to explain myself to her because she paid attention.

Your lover should always see you.

The doorbell chimed loudly through the house. I heard Dinah open the front door and greet Vanessa in a soft voice. She offered to take her cloak, sounding not quite subservient but utterly polite.

Looking at Lauren I thought,
It just might get worse.

My fear was confirmed when Vanessa thanked her in a silky tone that made my stomach fall.