Noah cleared the building first and then her little troupe all went up to shower and dress. After pressing her up against the wall of the shower and having his way with her, Noah allowed Bethalie to bathe, and all the while she tried to pretend that she hadn't nearly taken Noah up on his offer to bite and feed from him.

After bathing, she brushed out her hair, pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black sweater, her boots, strapped on her weapons, and went for her coat. Noah had already dressed in black jeans, black jackboots, a black button down shirt and his standard black leather duster.

He actually looked like an extra from a Vampire movie, which she found to be a bit ironic.

They found Evyn and Mace waiting downstairs, Evyn wearing a slinky black dress that made the most of her small curves and six inch heels that must have been incredibly painful to walk in, and Mace was dressed in khaki pants, a grey tee shirt and an army style jacket, a shade darker than one Bethalie had burned. All in all, her little clutch cleaned up pretty well.

They made it back to The Warehouse in good time, finding it fairly empty save for a few early birds and the muscled bouncer, who stepped aside and let them enter without question, likely due to Noah's cool factor. They quickly found a table in the corner, away from the dance floor, and set up camp, prepared to have fun, like it or not.

However, it was rather hard to have fun with a territorial Vampire who expected every male in the building to maintain at least a twenty foot radius and then was chomping at the bit to go after them when they didn't. It was also hard to have fun with an assistant who was sitting as stiff as a plank in her seat and acting like she feared being attacked and eaten whole. The only person who seemed relaxed was Mace, who was having a high old time sipping his womanly Appletini, gyrating around in his seat in time to the thumping music, and enjoying having to turn away all the hot blonde chippies that were drawn over by the aroma of fresh meat.

As for Bethalie, who was sipping a glass of watered down soda and trying to ignore the fact that her organs were being shaken loose thanks to the deafening music, fun seemed to be an elusive concept. Having to worry about Noah Grey launching himself at some unsuspecting male and tearing his throat out, while trying to make sure that Evyn didn't faint dead away from...well, whatever was wrong with her, did not make for a relaxing time, despite Mace's theory to the contrary.

As the club began to fill to bursting and the music reached a brain melting level, Bethalie decided that enough fun was enough and opened her mouth to tell her crew it was time to get back home...when a slower strain of music suddenly filled the air. It was a rather sensual cadence that surprised Bethalie and had Noah getting to his feet and holding his hand out to her. Of course a Vampire wouldn't want to dance to anything other than a slow, sensual melody. Gamboling around the dance floor and working up a sweat might chip away at some of his cool factor.

Bethalie didn't protest, mostly due to the expectant spark glinting in those large hazel eyes and the crooked half-smile on that ruggedly handsome face. He was almost daring her to follow him. She slid out of her coat—and hoped that no one paid too much attention to all the hardware strapped to her body—took hold of his large, overly warm hand, and was led away from the table and out onto the dance floor that was packed with people, all of them young and beautiful and pressed so close together there wasn't even air between them. But, as soon as Noah took her in his arms, those other people disappeared.

Bethalie wasn't a capable dancer and very quickly gave herself over to Noah, allowing him to sweep her across the floor and...away from the rest of the world. And the way he was moving her, almost against the rhythm of the music, made it seem as if he was hearing a tune that did not exist, one that was far older than anyone or anything around them. Somehow, looking up into his beautiful face that didn't quite belong in her time, Bethalie could very nearly hear the refrain he was playing inside his head. It was eloquent and sophisticated and undoubtedly centuries old, something that had been played during grand parties held to entertain kings and their kin. And Noah's movements matched the regal, splendid melody that she was imagining. He was swaying her to the rhythm that filled and thickened the air around them, twirling her and dipping her, letting his hands slide over her back and up into her hair. 

Dancing with Noah Grey was like making love, only without the actual physical act and he was holding her to him in a way that allowed her to feel just what sort of effect their dance was having on him. Feeling that piece of him throbbing against her, getting lost in the hazel eyes that were locked with hers and in the pace of the movements that were joining them together, was almost as sensual as having him inside her. Maybe it was even more sensual because she couldn't have him inside her just then. She'd never experienced anything so stunningly moving and by the time the last strains of music died away, she was breathing hard and feeling oddly aroused and yet...saddened...at the same time. It was such a heartbreaking shame that Noah Grey had been forced to leave his time and be ushered forth into a place where his soul clearly did not belong.

"We shall continue this later, mīla," Noah said as another brain jarring techno beat started up.

That noise jolted Bethalie out of the fog that had surrounded her and she was shocked to realize that nearly all the people on the dance floor were staring at them in open mouthed disbelief.

Noah took her hand and began to lead her back toward the table. And that was when her gaze landed on the three Sister Witches, now sitting at what must have undoubtedly been deemed their table. A small throng of male worshipers had already surrounded them and it took Bethalie only an instant to pick out the tall, very blonde form of Jürgen Van Cleeve. He was waiting his turn to speak with the women and Bethalie stopped in her tracks so she could watch the exchange, bringing Noah to a halt with her.

Jürgen made his way up to the three women sitting like queens on their respective thrones, bending close to Marley Tate and saying a few words. The woman only smiled in response and then Jürgen reached for one of the cocktail napkins on the table, pulled a pen from his pocket, and quickly jotted something down, handing it to the woman before going on his way and disappearing into the crowd.

Jürgen Van Cleeve...  Hmmm. 

Watching the brief encounter caused a thought to flitter through Bethalie's mind, but she didn't speak of it just then. Instead, she allowed Noah to continue her on toward their table. As they sat, Mace finally pulled Evyn up out of her seat and fairly forced her onto the dance floor, where she stood for a few minutes in a frozen state while Mace gyrated around her, showing off just how...white guy he was. Seriously, the man had the rhythm of a tone deaf elephant. But, watching him was amusing and everyone on the dance floor seemed to share her opinion, some of them stopping to capture video with their phones. Mace did not seem to mind though and continued to cavort and writhe around Evyn, who wasn't moving a muscle, until the music died away. Damp and breathless, he brought the stiff woman back to the table and plopped down in his seat.

"Whew! That was fun!" he beamed, taking a sip of his Appletini.

Noah humphed in detest, but Bethalie had to smile and give him the thumbs up. There were people still snapping pics of him, probably to go with the videos they'd taken. She was glad he was having his moment.

After that, it seemed they'd had all the fun they could and decided to call it a night, heading out into the darkness and toward the van in the lot across the street. As they reached it, Noah's cell sounded out and he pulled it from his pocket, walking away a few steps to speak in low tones. Something in his demeanor changed so that Bethalie felt her insides grow tight. He spoke for several minutes before putting his phone away and turning back to them. Just by looking at his expression, Bethalie knew it was about his father.

"That was my contact. It's done. My father has met his maker this night," he said solemnly.

Evyn gasped and Mace went a shade paler. Jarred down to her bones, Bethalie went to Noah and took hold of his hands, since her coat prevented her from putting her arms around him. She thought he might need the support.

"I'll be fine, mīla. It was time to end his stranglehold on my family," Noah said, tightening his grip on her.

She knew he was hurting. How could he not be? It would kill her if her own father died and she'd only had him for a couple of decades. Noah had been with his father for much, much longer. What a gaping hole this would leave inside him.

"There is one thing, though," Noah said hoarsely. "My contact doesn't know if he ended my father before he could send more men for you or not. So, we must still be careful for a while longer. At least until news of his death spreads. If there's no one to back the payment for your death, the men will give up and go away."

Well, that was one tiny bit of good news. Wasn't it?

"Will you be okay?" she whispered to him, not allowing the relief the news of his father's demise would ordinarily bring her.

"I'll survive. But, mightn't we head homeward, mīla?" Noah asked, his eyes dark and his jaw hard set.

Bethalie nodded, something slightly uncomfortable wafting through her belly. Noah was without a father...because of her. The situation had been unavoidable, she'd had a job to do and she would end Noah's sister again in a heartbeat, without a second's hesitation, but still...this was because of her. And for the first time ever, she wanted to take away the pain of the one left behind.

Bethalie's little troupe all climbed into the van and were sped back to the garage, where she was immediately taken up to her sleeping loft, stripped of her weapons and clothes, and Noah proceeded to bury himself inside her, taking her over and over, clearly trying to blot out the pain of killing his own father with the pleasure of physical release.

*  *  *  *  *  *

As was the norm now, Bethalie awakened later in the day than usual and found herself feeling like she'd been run over by a truck. She barely had the strength to shower and dress and if Noah hadn't arrived to help her down the stairs and into the kitchen, she would never have made it on her own. Thankfully, Evyn had a large glass of coffee waiting along with her food and she drank it down as if it was nectar, the jolt of caffeine hitting the spot.

Evyn had to go out for supplies and Mace offered to go with her, but she refused, declaring that she was faster on her own. Noah put up an argument, but Evyn brought him up short. The Grey assassins weren't after her, they were after Bethalie, which meant she could make a run to the store in relative safety. That settled, she hoofed it out of the loft, list in hand.

After Bethalie finished her coffee and food and felt more...human, she began to think about the scene she'd witnessed last night at The Warehouse and even in the stark light of day, the notion that had struck her still seemed like a viable option.  

"What are you thinking, Bethalie?" Mace questioned from his place at the table.

Noah, rinsing dishes, shot him a scathing glare, but said nothing.

"I was thinking I may have a way to smoke out the person killing Darksiders," she said, causing Noah's head to whip back toward her.

"Really? When did you come up with something?" Mace asked, curious.

"At the club last night, actually. I just need to get hold of The Big Guys and see what They think about it."

"Evyn showed me how to do that," Mace said, shocking Bethalie. "She's been letting me in on her secrets, which I may or may not have use of at some later date." His tone was rather shifty, so Bethalie did not question him. She didn't want to be an accessory to whatever he was planning.

"Well then Donovan, get over there and get to it," Bethalie ordered, rising from the table and heading in the direction of Evyn's desk.

Mace followed, plopping down in Evyn's chair and giving his knuckles a crack. Within a couple of minutes he had done whatever Evyn had instructed him to do and the e-mail to The Big Guys had been sent. Within a couple more minutes, the reply had been received and the go ahead was given. She had twenty four hours until things were set in motion.

Which meant that she needed to find Jürgen Van Cleeve ASAP. He was the most important part of the little plan she'd hatched. And if this didn't work, well she was going to tell The Big Guys to hire a P.I. or find the killer Themselves. This was not her area of expertise. This kind of hunting sucked. She made a much better Fred than Velma. Hell, she had three Velma's on her side and they still weren't getting anywhere.

Knowing that Jürgen Van Cleeve showed up at the same convenience store every day, they had about an hour and a half to get across town and get into place, assuming their first encounter hadn't caused him to break his routine, in which case she would have go hunting for him and she did not have that kind of time.

Evyn wasn't back nearly forty minutes later and Bethalie couldn't wait around, so she strapped on her weapons, slid into her coat, and piled Noah and Mace in the elevator, taking out her phone and hitting the Walkie app. "Evyn?" she called to her assistant.

"I'm here," Evyn responded.

"I need to go have a talk with Jürgen Van Cleeve and I have to leave now. Will you be alright on your own?" she asked, getting into the elevator.

"I always am. I'll come straight home and lock myself in," Evyn responded.

"You'll drive by a couple of times before you go inside?" Bethalie urged, worry racing through her.

"I'll be alright. I know what to do," Evyn soothed in a motherly tone.

Bethalie didn't want to leave Evyn with more rogue assassins possibly lurking out there, but she had no choice. She had to get to Jürgen if her little plan had any shot at all.

With fear for Evyn heavy on her mind, Bethalie climbed into the van with Noah and Mace, ready to force Jürgen Van Cleeve to help her if necessary. They headed through the cross-town traffic and parked down the street from the convenience store with what felt like only minutes to spare. They all three exited the van and made it up the sidewalk through the small crowd of people coming and going, positioning themselves down from the door.

By some miracle, it wasn't long before the large, brooding form of Jürgen Van Cleeve came down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets, handsome face scowling at things in general. His gaze landed on Bethalie before he reached her and he rolled his eyes, clearly uttering an expletive. Bethalie wriggled her fingers at him, slightly offended that he wasn't happier to see her. Noah positioned himself right next to her and Mace put himself on the other side, despite the fact that she didn't need, nor had she requested, their help.

"Is it your life's mission to harass innocent people, Ward?" Jürgen grumped as he approached her.

"Yes," she answered easily. "I need to have a little chat with you, Jürgen."

He looked at her with cold, unfeeling eyes. "The last time you chatted with me, you shot me. I think we should leave it at that."

"I wish I could, Jürgen, but I need a favor from you," she said, thinking there was no way he'd help her unless she shot him again.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You shot me! Why in hell would I help you!"

"Because if you do, I might be able to see to it that you're rewarded with a nice wad of cash," she enticed, already having cleared it with The Big Guys.

"Get bent, Ward!" Jürgen spat at her, trying to side step her, but she followed him, blocking his path.

"I've seen your financials, Jürgen, and I know you could be in better shape. This nasty bit of business that's going on is putting a kink in how things run and They want it cleared up. Fast. If you can help me out, they'll make sure you're set for a while," she cajoled.

Apparently, money was indeed a great motivator because she could see Jürgen begin to waffle.

"Come on, Jürgen. You can use the money and what I need you to do isn't that complicated," she inveigled. "And if it all works out you can brag to your buddies about having a hand in catching the person behind the Darksider killings."

That seemed to entice him more than the thought of the money. "You want me to help you catch the filth that's been putting us down?" Jürgen asked through his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Filth?" Bethalie repeated, confused. She wouldn't have thought Jürgen would give a care if Darksiders were being killed, so long as it wasn't him.

"Yes! Filth! None of us wants some piece of garbage running around taking us out!" Jürgen said, his face drawn up in disgust.

"I put you down," Bethalie pointed out, feeling just a tad stung.

"You are putting us down fair and square, Ward. If you come for us, then we've earned the visit. For someone else to take that duty into their own hands, someone who's just as guilty as the person they're ending, is an affront to the way of things!" the man growled.

Funny. It sounded like Jürgen Van Cleeve almost...respected her, in some small way.

"So, you'll agree to help me out with this?" Bethalie asked, liking Jürgen Van Cleeve just a little bit more.

"I agree. Whatever you need," Jürgen said to her.

"Though, principles aside, I should still put the word in for the cash prize at the end, yes?" she asked amicably.

"Money always sweetens the pot," Jürgen said with a shrug.

"Alrighty, then," Bethalie said, removing her hands from her batons. "Why don't we find a place to talk and I'll fill you in on the details," she said, turning and starting back toward the van, Noah and Mace flanking her like two stoic sentries. "And Jürgen, if you double cross me, I'll slice your head off and mail it to your next of kin."

"I would expect nothing less, Ward," came the response.

An hour later, they dropped Jürgen back at the convenience store and pointed themselves toward the garage. Things would be set in motion when the next e-mail came. Hopefully, not long after that, she would be shoveling Mix over the offender. If not, well...early retirement was the only option.

Oh god. No way in hell was she retiring early! This had to flush the target out!

At the garage, Noah got out to clear the building and Bethalie sat with Mace, patiently waiting for him to return.

"I think this will work, Bethalie," Mace stated, sounding rather convinced. 

"I sure hope so," she answered him. "If this doesn't work, then I quit." Theoretically, of course.

"It will.  I mean, its a good plan," he said firmly.  

"Is it?" sighed Bethalie, feeling as if it wasn't so much a plan as a desperate, last-ditch effort. 

Truly, she was flying by the seat of her pants here and there was a huge chance she'd wind up falling flat on her ass.  

"It is.  Besides, you're the coolest woman I have ever met," he stated with a crooked grin.  "That alone means you can't lose."

Ah. The cool factor again. Clearly, cool people weren't allowed to be miserable failures. It would take the cool factor down a notch and wouldn't that be a shame?

"Thank you for your faith, Mr. Donovan," she tried to smile back.  She truly hoped that faith was not misplaced.

Mace's grin suddenly faded and his eyes took on something of a dark light.  "There is something I need to talk to you about, though, Bethalie.  A couple of days ago...I-I noticed something---"

Mace's words were cut off as Bethalie's door was jerked open and hands shot in, dragging her out of the van in the blink of an eye. Before she could gasp, she was slammed down onto the pavement hard enough to cause her vision to go dim and the air to be pushed from her lungs.

The very next instant a shape was on top of her and before she could more than comprehend what was happening, she saw the sharpened hunk of wood coming at her. Her body instinctively jerked sideways to avoid the blow, but she wasn't fast enough and the thing was plunged deep into her shoulder, filling her entire body with a sense of crushing pressure.

A loud roar rent the air, and for a second she thought it might have come from her, but then Mace was there, his baton swinging, connecting with the shape on top of her. The silver rod smashed into the side of the skull and sent the shape pitching sideways. Mace went after it, battering the figure with such a fury his batons were nothing more than a shimmer of silver. The shape quickly hit the pavement and Mace was on it, striking it with blind fury and still roaring like a pissed off grizzly bear.

But, then another roar sounded out, one that eclipsed Mace's voice and fairly shook the ground beneath Bethalie. She saw a fast moving shadow fly in from the side, sweeping Mace out of the way and descending upon the shape lying on the ground. It was Noah, and he grabbed hold of the figure, taking the skull in both hands and with a vicious twist and a sharp crack, tore the head away from the body, making it seem as easy as drawing a breath.

He was on his feet then, letting out another deafening snarl before throwing the head against the wall of her building with such force it exploded like a detonated bomb. Noah turned back to the shape on the ground and took a step toward it, but then his gaze swept over to Bethalie. He stood for a moment, his shoulders heaving and his rugged face a mask of rage, but that rage slowly melted away as his eyes fell on the thing that was still lodged in her shoulder.

Almost instantaneously he was kneeling beside her, his gaze sharp as he assessed the situation. "Hold still, mīla. I have to remove this from you," he told her, his jaw set.

Bethalie gritted her teeth, bracing for it. She knew it was going to hurt like hell, even though it oddly wasn't hurting at all right then, aside from the pressure that seemed to be pushing her into the pavement. Noah took hold of the...stake...and pulled it from her shoulder in one sure motion and the searing pain that tore through Bethalie's arm and jaw caused a shriek to escape her throat and Noah's face to go blurry before her eyes.

"Oh god.  What do we do for her?" Mace's asked, his voice tight with dread.

"I need to get her upstairs and staunch the bleeding," Noah stated, looking up at Mace. "Take her coat off, Tuck. I can't touch it."

Mace quickly obeyed, kneeling down and hurriedly helping Bethalie out of her coat, which sent another wave of burning agony washing through her, forcing her to cry out again. Even through the pain blazing a trail from her finger tips to her jaw, she could feel her body growing cold and she feared the Vampire had hit an artery. Which would suck because she'd been...staked...and not bitten, so silver wouldn't help to cauterize the wound...and she would bleed to death.

Once Mace had her coat off, Noah slid his arms beneath her and scooped her up off the ground, turning to carry her into the garage. "Wait. You have to...get the body," Bethalie told him hoarsely, her words sounding slurred.

"What do we do with it, mīla?" Noah questioned, continuing on his way.

"Put in the trough," she said through her teeth, her head slumping against his shoulder.

"That won't work, Bethalie," Noah said. "This one was human."

A little jolt went through Bethalie. "Human? What...what...I-I...what?"

Noah made a derisive sound in his throat. "Well, we weren't expecting a single human to come for you, were we?"

No. She'd been expecting another half dozen frothing Vampires or a horde of Demon assassins. She had been prepared for that sort of attack. Yet, one human had appeared from the shadows and managed to get done what neither Vampire nor Demon could accomplish. 

 It was kind of funny, actually.

"Drag the body inside, Tuck," Noah said over his shoulder, whisking Bethalie inside the garage and over to the elevator, slamming the gate shut with one hand and sending them clamoring toward the second floor

As they burst through the front door and into the loft, Evyn let out a little screech, rushing over to them. "Oh my god! Bethalie, what happened!"

"She was staked," Noah explained tersely. 

Upon hearing that, Evyn let out another shriek, this one smacking of sheer panic.  "Staked!  Oh god!  With what!  What should I do--"

"Calm down, woman!" Noah commanded as he strode toward the sofa.  "Its a simple wooden stake!  Bethalie will heal!  But, we need to stop the bleeding, so go and find what supplies you can!"

"I-I-I...we have a first aid kit," Evyn said, turning and bolting toward the kitchen.

Yes. They had a first-aid kit they had never had to use. Not once in five years. Not after she had put down Vampires and Warlocks and feral Werewolves and Nyriecht Demons. Not once in five years... And now, thanks to one lone human, of all creatures, and his wooden stake...she needed it.

It actually was...funny.

Bethalie was laid on the sofa and Evyn re-appeared with the enormous first-aid kit, filled with everything needed to piece a Ward back together. Noah tried to pull her shirt off, but the silver in her blood singed his skin, so Evyn took over, shaking off her shock and putting her work face on. Noah stood by, hovering around the edges, while Evyn packed the wound with sterile rags and applied pressure in an effort to halt the flow.  Bethalie tried very hard not to make the sounds she wanted to make, but halfway through she couldn't help it. It hurt like hell and she let out a groan that had Noah  hying himself to the furthest corner of the loft.

Once he had gone, Mace appeared, sitting with her and holding her hand while Evyn worked, finally managing to stop the bleeding so that she could try and patch up the wound as best she could, using gauze pads and invisible adhesive.  Once that bit was finished, she cleaned everything up and then ran off to make coffee.

Bethalie tried to shoo Mace away from her because she'd lost a lot of blood and she feared what she might take into her mind to do. For a few seconds there, she thought she could actually hear the blood being pumped through his veins, but then Evyn appeared with a massive glass of coffee and once she'd chugged it down, Mace's veins didn't matter so much. 

Evyn brought her another glass almost before she'd finished the first and that one seemed to help even more. The caffeine seemed to get what blood she had left pumping through her body and she started to feel better, it even helped to lessen the throbbing in her shoulder. Truly, she had to wonder why Vampires needed to drink blood at all when coffee seemed to be doing the job.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Bethalie awoke the next day—not remembering getting into her bed or falling asleep—to find Noah standing by the bedside, a glass of coffee in hand, which he made her drink before he would allow her out of bed. Once she was properly fortified, she was permitted to go into the bathroom to shower, noting in the mirror that the wound on her shoulder was nothing more than a faint red shadow marring the space between her shoulder and collarbone. She didn't even need the bandages anymore, so she pulled them off and stepped into the shower, giving everything a quick scrub while Noah stood outside, leaning against the sink and watching her intently. Noah helped her dress afterwards, even though she felt capable enough to dress herself, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and ushered her down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Mace and Evyn were heaping the table with food.

Bethalie was forced to eat her weight in muffins and fruit salad and then she escaped to the garage to deal with the body they had acquired the night before. Mace had placed the corpse in the trough, along with a plastic bag that contained the shrapnel that used to be the man's skull. Bethalie stood back to regard the body for a moment, having no idea what to do with...him. Yes, it had definitely been a male who'd nearly taken her out.  A single human male using an old school wooden stake had nearly done her in.  Another inch to the right and Evyn would be making arrangements to ship her back to her parents...

She still found it rather a bit...funny, all things considered.

"So, what should we do with him?" Mace asked, coming to stand beside her.

"I have no idea," she said. "I have never dealt with human leftovers."

Noah stood close by, looking useless. He had never been in this situation, either, apparently.

"Well, we could put it in one of the barrels and cover it in your Mix. That might absorb some of the bodily fluids and keep it contained until the barrels are picked up," Mace suggested.

Bethalie thought about that. Well, Mace Donovan was just making himself useful every which way. "That's a good idea," she said and before she stopped to think about it, she stepped up to him and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a stout hug. "Thank you."

"For what?" Mace asked, hugging her back despite the low growl suddenly filling the room.

"You jumped in to fight for me even though you could have been killed. Again." she told him.

"Well, like I said, hanging out with you ups my street cred. If you die, I'm right back at the bottom," Mace said.

"Alright, Tuck!" Noah growled. "Let her go!"

Mace obeyed, dropping his arms and moving away from her so that Noah could step in. "Let's get the body disposed of," he grumped, glaring at Mace.

With a measure of tension in the air, they set to work and dumped the remains into a barrel, shoveling in Mix to cover it. At first, Bethalie feared her reaction to being near a blood soaked corpse, but she soon discovered that she had no desire whatsoever to imbibe the bodily fluids of a deceased person. Not only was the sharp, sour scent unappetizing, but it was repulsive enough to turn her stomach.

As they wheeled the hand trolley out to the back alley, Bethalie checked Mace's watch. The Big Guys would be sending out the e-mail any time, so all she had to do was wait. Hopefully, Jürgen Van Cleeve wouldn't pull some kind of double cross and blow the whole thing. She hadn't killed anyone in a while, so she had a lot whoop-ass pent up. If she went after him, she might not leave anything but a greasy spot on the ground where Jürgen Van Cleeve used to be.

"Go care for your woman, Tuck," Noah said as they re-entered the garage. "I'd like to be alone with mine."

Mace didn't argue and retreated to the elevator, clamoring his way up to the second floor.

"What do you want?" Bethalie asked, not quite sure she liked the strange look in Noah's eyes.

"You," he said.

"Wh-what?" she croaked out, taking a step back from him, something unnerving running through her belly.

"I want you, mīla," he repeated, his coarse voice thick and his eyes pulsating with intensity.

"Here?" Bethalie asked, not sure she if she was willing to go along with him in this particular instance.

"Especially here. The aroma of death...is an aphrodisiac," Noah explained, his breath seeming to quicken.

"Um, no it's not," she assured him. It was foul, the stench of stale and decaying blood. The last thing that scent brought to her mind was sex.

"It's an aversion to you because you haven't fully transitioned. To my kind, the smell of death brings with it a sense of...urgency," he stated as he reached for her, pulling her up against his body that was already alive and pulsating. "It reminds us that we're hanging by a tentative thread. It reminds us that we aren't supposed to...be. And that makes us want to do whatever it takes to feel alive, to forget that we're nothing more than shadows."

Wordlessly, Noah scooped her up into his arms and swept her toward the work table. Once she was lying on the cold, stainless steel surface, Noah hastily swept her boots and jeans away and when she was completely exposed to him, he dropped to his knees and with a feral growl, he lowered his mouth to her center and began to devour her.

Bethalie had never been tasted so intimately, not ever, not by any man, and the feel of Noah's mouth on her, the feel of his tongue lashing at the tiny mound of flesh that was made solely to give her pleasure, sent her spiraling toward the stars. She wanted the ecstasy of feeling Noah working her flesh to last forever, but her body had other plans and within only a few moments, she was melting into spasms of bliss that had her center weeping and had Noah moving to drink of her, suckling the moisture that he had brought forth.

Once he'd drank his fill, he stood, his hazel eyes throbbing and his ruggedly handsome face a mask of need. He unzipped his jeans, freed his throbbing length, and without words or hesitation, he was shoving his length into her, filling her so completely that it took her breath away. And then he began to drive into her with a ferocity that stunned and elated Bethalie and within only a few moments, she began to understand just what it meant to truly feel alive.