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hers.
    He turned her so that her back was pressed against his chest. He put one arm tightly around her waist. The stair tread was narrow, so they were of necessity very close. Necessary or not, the press of her hot flesh against his sent a shiver of desire through him. The warmth of his flesh sent a shiver through her.
    The leader of the vampires made her way to the front of the crowd. She put her hands on her hips and looked up, past Selena to the vampire holding her. "You're late, old friend."
    His breath brushed Selena's ear when he spoke. "Caught in traffic."
    "Caught the mouse we were chasing, as well." She held out a hand. "Now, if you'll just hand her back."
    "She's keeping me warm."
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    Maria's smile didn't waver, though annoyance radiated from her. "But I'm giving her to Lawrence, my dear."
    Lawrence didn't look happy, but he nodded rather than contradict his leader.
    "You always were a matchmaker, Maria." He had one arm around Selena's waist; his hand hovered just beneath her breast. The touch, even the hint of a touch, was disturbingly intimate.
    "She's not Lawrence's type."
    "I'm Type O-negative, to be precise," Selena whispered angrily.
    "Universal donor," he whispered back, amused by her grim humor. "Slut." She banged her head back hard against his shoulder.
    "She's no innocent we abducted for the hunt," Mariaexplained. "We didn't bring her here. The situation is of her own making. We caught her spying on us. She won't respond to persuasion."
    "She's a cop," Lawrence added with a bitter sneer.
    "That is a problem."
    "So we can either take her or kill her," Maria went on. "What other choice do we have, my dear?"
    "This has nothing to do with why you're here," Lawrence insisted. He looked around at the rest of the nest. "None of us is involved in that."
    "A cop would make a dangerous companion." His hand had settled over her breast. Selena was aware that he was aware that her nipple was hard and hot against his palm. "So I think I'll take you for myself."
    "Shit! Shit! Shit!"
    Selena scrubbed her hands over her tear-streaked face and swore some more.
    The worst part about this recurring nightmare wasn't waking up covered in sweat, scared out of her mind and with a racing heart. Selena almost didn't mind the terror. It was the unbearable arousal that drove her up the wall, at least out of her bed to stumble across the dark bedroom into the bathroom.
    She washed the sweat off her face, which woke her up further. That really wasn't what she wanted.
    What she wanted here, alone, in the dead of night, was black oblivion. No dreams, no memories. She sure as hell didn't want to think, and being awake meant thinking. She was trembling, her body aching and alive, and she hated it, wanted to divorce her mind from singed, singing nerve endings and the siren call that was never answered. That she never wanted answered, but still, she couldn't help but radiate —
    She stepped into the shower still wearing the T-shirt she slept in and stood in a cascade of cold water that did nothing for her body but get it wet. The burning didn't go away; it never did. Masturbation didn't help, so she didn't bother. She stood with her hands braced against the tiles and tried to get over it.
    Instead, as her senses gradually grew sharper, she began to realize that the longing was more than inside Page 21
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    her. It was in the air around her, the water washing over her. When she closed her eyes, it was a presence she felt on her skin rather than icy needles of water. The scent she breathed in was the musk of sex rather than the aroma of soap or shampoo. This wasn't all her doing, and it wasn't a dream. Her imagination was not of the vivid sort. She'd found out she had some gifts — curses — she didn't know she had, but Selena Crawford never imagined things.
    When she turned off the