When she would arrive, no one but Nolan knew, and he wasn't talking. AIR only knew that she would come, and she would kill. Already she had destroyed several worlds, for the more people she infected through sex and bloodletting, the longer she lived, keeping the disease at a minimum inside her own body. Same with her army. Same with Nolan. If they didn't pass the disease on to someone else, and then someone else, and then someone else, they too became cannibals.

It was a vicious cycle.

"You ready for this?" Dallas asked. "Lay it on me."

"Nolan escaped AIR."

Okay. No, he hadn't been ready for that. "Shit. How long ago?" Dallas glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "About fifteen hours.”

“And no one realized until this afternoon when Mia called the meeting?”

“That's right."

"How is that possible?" The guy had been locked in a state-of-the-art facility, complete with fingerprint IDs, retinal scanners, and weight- and heat-sensitive tiles, all of which should have caused the alarms to screech to life the moment he stepped outside his cell. Again, "should have" sucked ass.

"God only knows. He's out there, probably screwing his way to good health while infecting innocent women, who then infect their lovers. If that's the case, this thing is going to spread fast. So fast we might not be able to stop it."

Devyn placed the now-empty beer bottle atop the stack of unfolded laundry beside him. "Think the Schön will want revenge against Jaxon and Mishka?"

Mishka, the cyborg Devyn wanted a go at but wouldn't make a play for because he did not poach his friend's females, ever, had befriended and betrayed Nolan, all to protect Jaxon. Saving the world from that sadistic disease by locking Nolan away had been a side benefit.

"Revenge?" Dallas shrugged. "He didn't seem the type, you know? He was more concerned about falling in love before he died than truly hurting others. I mean, I got the sense that he didn't enjoy infecting his lovers and only did it to survive."

Love. Devyn barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Love could be found in the arms of anyone, anywhere, if only people would abandon the silly idea of monogamy. What was the point of giving yourself to only one? Boredom, that's what.

"I'm guessing a patrol has been sent out to look for him," he said.

"Correct. So far, no sighting. Who knows? Maybe I'm wrong, and he's not out there screwing everyone he meets. Maybe he's keeping to himself, hoping to die with a little dignity. You know, without an AIR audience. Or maybe he caught a solar flare home." Solar flares were what opened the wormholes that allowed the travel between the planets. That was how Devyn so easily moved between this one and his own. "There's been no new case of infection."

"None that have been reported, at least." One thing Devyn knew about those in power: they kept secrets. Many women could have been infected by Nolan and eliminated by the government already.

And one thing Devyn knew about men: they liked to have sex. Nolan needed sex more than most, not just for pleasure but for survival. He was sleeping around, keeping himself strong, no doubt about it. There would be no dying with dignity.

"Nolan didn't return to his planet," Devyn said. "It was wiped, remember? All of its people were either infected or killed. And then, of course, the infected traveled to Eden's planet, Raka, wiped it, then ventured here. We have to catch him, and we have to kill him this time."

Dallas shook his head. "We can't kill him. He's the only one who knows about the Schön queen we'll soon be fighting. Speaking of, I wish there was a way to send the bitch a message. Come here, and we'll hang you with your own intestines."

Devyn, too. "We've questioned Nolan repeatedly. Hell, I even tortured him. He never broke and managed to keep every one of his secrets. And the fault was not mine. I'm a damn good torturer." It wasn't something he usually enjoyed, but he'd been the only one for the job. Touching Nolan hadn't been an option. Spilling his blood hadn't been an option, either. The disease inside his body was alive, with a will and agenda of its own, and it only left a host when another was nearby.

Devyn had not wanted to become one of those hosts. As he could force objects to move in the same way he could force people, manipulating their energy, he'd been able to shatter every bone inside Nolan's body without ever setting foot in the room.

"It's time to end him," he added, "before he begins a pandemic." Dallas scoured a hand down his tired face. "That's what we decided, as well." Wait—what? "Then why the hell'd you hassle me about keeping him alive for his secrets?"

"Mishka spent an hour trying to talk us out of killing him. She cried, Dev. Real damn tears." The agent leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. No one was tougher than Mishka, who had once had a chip in her brain. A chip that had forced her to do things she hadn't wanted to do. Murder people she loved, have sex with people she didn't. Only recently had it been removed. "I wanted to cut out my heart and give it to her. Now you waltz in here, late, and state as pretty as you please the very thing we had to fight her for."

"One, I'm late for everything but what really matters. And two, had I been here, we both know her tears wouldn't have affected me." Tears never affected him. It was almost like he was missing the sensitivity gene or something. For sex, he could pretend like he cared that he'd upset a female. But actually care? No. Emotions, he'd learned from ruling his people and being responsible for their fates, were foolish. Wasted, even. "Now, why don't you tell me what this is really about."

Silence. Thick, heavy. Then Dallas laid his arm over his eyes and said, "It's Kyrin. Ever since he saved my life, there's been a desire to please him inside me—and it's not from gratitude! Anything he says, I feel compelled to do on a cellular level. Like the blood inside me knows it used to belong to him and wants to cater to his every whim."

"You're talking as though the blood is alive, as with the Schön."

"Maybe it is. I mean, if Kyrin told me to blow him, I'd blow him, even though I don't swing that way. And yeah, I know he'd never command me to do something like that, but still. I can't stand even the possibility of it."

"Shall I kill him for you?" Devyn's loyalty belonged to this man, not to the Arcadian. Dallas had broken several AIR rules for him, placing his own career and future in jeopardy. He'd even saved Devyn's life, jumping in the way and taking a blade meant for Devyn. Of course, the agent's new Arcadian blood had caused him to heal quickly, but that hadn't lessened the impact of the gesture.

More than that, Devyn liked him. Dallas had no inhibitions, and he was as open as Devyn was about his sexuality. Those blue eyes never judged him, and the man himself had been as desperate for a friend as Devyn had been. Mia, his last BFF, was now dating the very man responsible for Dallas's gifts—and torment.

"You'd do that for me?" Dallas asked.

"Of course." Yes, Devyn respected the enigmatic Kyrin and would hate to see him eliminated. And yes, anyone who could put up with the violent Mia Snow for more than a single bedding deserved his respect. But if Dallas wanted Kyrin gone, Devyn would take care of it, no questions asked. He owed him that much. At least.

Wasn't like he got all emotional about his kills. To be honest, he could eliminate almost anyone with no hesitation and no sense of remorse. He'd been that way since defeating his sexual shame. With its fall, his other emotions had seemed to crumble as well. He didn't cry. Ever, for any reason. He didn't become attached to people, places, or objects, in the sense that he craved them, needed them, and had to be with them. And he certainly didn't mourn when those around him kicked it.

Perhaps, though, he wouldn't tear the otherworlder's limbs from his body and choke him to death with his own hands, as was Devyn's custom. Perhaps, too, he wouldn't sneak up from behind and slice his throat. He was fond of doing that, as well. Maybe he would challenge the alien to a fight, win, of course, and then bury the body and pretend like nothing had happened. It was the only honorable thing to do, really.

"No," Dallas said on a sigh. "Don't kill him."

"Bummer. I had just come up with a gold star plan, if I do say so myself." Devyn knew why Dallas had declined his offer. Dallas still loved Mia like a sister, and Mia loved Kyrin. The agent would never do anything to hurt her, which meant he'd never do anything to hurt his new blood master, no matter how much it might beleaguer him. "You change your mind, you let me know and it's done."

Dallas straightened, some of the tension leaving him. He even gifted Devyn with one of his wry—so rare these days—smiles. "Just for that, I forgive you for being late."

"Does that mean you're not breaking up with me?"

Snorting, Dallas launched a pillow at him. "You could be so lucky."

The small square of material slammed into his chest. Devyn collected it and propped it behind his head, getting comfortable. But damn it, what the hell was still poking him in the back? Finally he reached back, fingers wrapping around ... a vibrator. He blinked at it. Large, pink, and beaded.

"Want to explain this?" he said, holding it up to the light and smiling.

His friend shrugged sheepishly. "Had a girl over and we had a three-way with it."

"Wait a second." Devyn tossed the device to the floor and peered over at. the agent in disbelief. "Back up. Two things shock me about your story. One, you actually brought a female into this dump? And two, you had a three-way yet you're still moody? Sounds like you need a few lessons in ménage etiquette."

Dallas shot him the bird.

"You wish. Okay, subject change before you start slobbering on yourself over the possibility. When do we start hunting Nolan?"

"Tonight. The others are out there now, and we're their relief.”

“Let's not wait. I'm bored."

"But I'm tired. I worked all night and haven't had a chance to catch any Z's.”

“Excuses, excuses. Man up, get off your ass and grab some weapons. We're going hunting."

CHAPTER 3

Finally they caught sight of the bastard.

Devyn remained in the shadows, back pressed against a wall of peeling red paint and metal. Fourteen days of flashing Nolan's picture to everyone they encountered, fourteen days of interviewing people who might have interacted with the poisonous alien. Fourteen days of passing out their cell numbers—and having to answer the calls of supposed sightings that were really women trying to date them—waiting for something, anything to break. Fourteen days of disappointment and failure. Until now. Nolan had come out of hiding to score a prostitute.

Fitting, that sex would be the man's downfall.

They had to be careful, had to treat this situation like they were patient admirers and Nolan a skittish virgin. (Devyn happened to be very good at that.) Nolan could cloak himself with invisibility and disappear in the blink of an eye. It was a skill that had almost gotten several AIR agents killed the last time they'd dealt with him, because it was nearly impossible to win a fight with a ghost.

Earlier, before he'd actually seen the little shit, Devyn had feared he'd already made a wrong move, alerting Nolan to his intentions and causing the Schön to follow him. Every so often, he'd felt as if someone was watching him, studying him. Waiting. Perhaps judging. That gaze had blistered him, seemingly alive with fury.

It was as that fury had grown that he'd begun to think that maybe it wasn't Nolan. Maybe it was the vampire. Bride. I'll come after you. I swear it, she'd shouted heatedly. Once, he'd even thought he'd caught sight of her. But she'd been blissfully, erotically naked, more curved than possible, all rose tinted skin, blood red nipples, and dark hair.

Because he'd caught this wondrous glimpse on a crowded public street, he'd known he hadn't really seen her. He knew women. No matter their race, they didn't traipse around naked. (Much to his consternation.) There was simply too much shame involved. (Again, much to his consternation.)

After that, though, he'd begun to look for her. Which was odd. He'd already dismissed her from his mind. Hadn't he? But he couldn't deny that a true glimpse of dark hair now sent his pulse racing. Pale skin caused moisture to flood his mouth. Green eyes caused his cock to harden painfully.

And each time his body reacted to thoughts of her, he remembered the way she'd rebuffed him. How she'd wanted no part of his (magnificent) body. Not sexually, at least.

His desire to see her, really see her, had increased.

If he put the vastness of his sensual knowledge to work, would he be able to tempt her to his bed? He just didn't know, and every fiber of his being sparked with the challenge of finding out.

He was going to have to find her, he decided. Surely she'd succumb, just like everyone else, and he'd stop thinking about her. Exactly as he'd done with everyone else. Life was too precious to waste wondering if Bride's eyes would sparkle like emeralds when she came. If her nipples were really blood red. If she had any tattoos, birthmarks, or scars. The scars he might enjoy kissing all better. Or was kissing boo-boos an Earth custom she would hate? Had she been raised here on the surface? Or had she escaped the underground to avoid punishment for something? If so, why? And did that mean she would make love like a naughty little criminal?

He had to know. The sooner he found her, he thought, the better.

He'd use the databases at AIR, of course, but would they be able to lead him to her? All he had was her first name. And what a strange name it was. Bride. Who had named her? Why had they named her that? Was she mated?