Page 62 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

“Okay.” Who’s driving this runaway train of a tongue of mine? Not me!

“What?”

“You invited me to seduce you. So that’s what I’ll do.” Why don’t I just lie down and surrender . . . to whatever or whoever is pulling my puppet strings?

“You never mentioned seduction.”

“Convince, seduce, same thing.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

“Yes,” he said, finally gaining control of his unruly tongue.

“Idiot!” she said. “Here’s my idea if you’ll let me finish a sentence. Michael said we would marry after the mission is over. All we have to do is pretend to be compliant, and then we can do lots of good things to change his mind. Time is our friend.”

“It might work,” he said. “First of all, the mission might not succeed. We might all be destroyed. Then, our marriage would be a moot point. Second, it would give us time to come up with worthy arguments against our wedding.”

“Exactly.”

“The only thing is,” he hesitated, “in the Jewish religion, as it was when I was human, a betrothal was as legal as an actual marriage. Oh, not consummation or love play of any kind, but for the year or so between engagement and wedding, the man and woman were considered man and wife.”

She pondered his words, then concluded, “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

“What in bloody hell does that mean?”

“Times have changed,” she explained, standing. Apparently, their meeting was over. In her mind, anyway.

He stood, too, and said, dubiously, “If you say so.”

“It’s a deal then,” she said, extending a hand for him to shake.

Which was a big mistake.

The second his flesh touched hers, palm to palm, a blue mist of cinnamon rain emanated from their clasp and swirled about, enveloping them in an erotically charged cocoon. Really. It did. Like magic, or something weird.

Every hair on his body stood on end, even the fine bristles on his head. Carnal caresses seemed to sweep over his body, in slow motion, like feathers.

She moaned.

He groaned.

And then he succumbed to the need that overwhelmed him, tugging her closer. He even felt a jolt down below.

She succumbed as well, stepping into his embrace.

The kiss that followed defied description. Lips met lips, then shifted reflexively to get the best angle of fit. Turns out fangs against fangs was no problem, after all.

Zeb didn’t touch her, except for his fingertips on her upper arms. Her hands were pressed, lightly, against his chest.

But you would have thought they were joined in the most intimate way. His brain seemed to melt, and all logical thought was gone. He was just one big mass of throbbing need. For what, he wasn’t sure.

He moved his mouth against hers, then tasted her with his tongue. Sweet. And spicy. Cinnamon with a bite. And the perfect match to his raging hunger.

She sighed and kissed him back, licking at his lips and fangs, then inserting her tongue into the hot sheath of his mouth.

He breathed into her mouth.

She breathed into his mouth.