Dean's POV:

I must have made a noise or something because Jaime's "Easy, Dean", while spoken Vampire-soft, is loud enough to make the little men with pickaxes that are currently trying to bust out of my skull via my eye sockets redouble their efforts. For the first time in a long time, I wish to God I could take some kind of pain reliever.

"What the fuck happened?" I moan. When I try to sit up, the world spins crazily so I just lay my head back down and close my eyes again. Vampires might not be able to die from regular head wounds but they can sure as hell get concussions, and it's a feeling I'm all too familiar with.

"You took one in the chest. Thank God, you actually listened to Carter for once!" Jaimie pats me right over the bruise that won't go away until I can feed, causing me to wince at the slight pain. "Not even your EMT friends here-" she nods her head in the direction of the open door at the rear of the ambulance, where I can see several EMTs milling around once I decide to open my eyes just enough to see who she's talking about, and sure enough there are familiar Chosen faces making sure everyone is okay. "-could have covered that."

Getting tired of the little men with pick-axes complaining about the bright light illuminating their world, I close my eyes and hope it'll make them happy enough that they'll stop taking their aggression out on the inside of my skull. "I've taken one in the vest before. The kick's not enough to knock me unconscious."

"And so it wasn't. But the kick from a point blank shot to the chest was enough to spin you around and knock you off your feet. Even a Vampire as old as you can't stay conscious when your head bounces off the floor like a basketball."

That explains the wonderful 'concussed' feeling, which drowns out the notion that Jaimie might be trying not to laugh at me. I just grunt in reply, taking a few minutes to lie there and heal as much as possible without having to actually move. Or at least, that's the plan until a thought comes to me and my eyes pop open and I sit up too fast. "Carter?" I groan, clutching my head while lying back down.

"He's fine." Jaimie rubs my shoulder in what I'm sure is supposed to be a soothing caress but isn't at this time.

"Jon?" I'd like to think if something had happened to him she would have said by now but I need to know for sure.

"Some minor scrapes from where you shoved him to the floor. He's being checked out in the other ambulance."

I nod slightly, and that doesn't make my world spin too much. "And you?"

She chuckles, not fooled in the least that I asked about her after both Carter and Jon. "I'm fine. Definitely better than the target."

I squint up at her. "What do you mean?"

"Carter killed him." Her relief is evident in her voice and I hate having to ruin that for her.

"No, he didn't." And I almost wish I hadn't said it, because suddenly she seems angry that I'd doubt her word on it.

"How the fuck would you know, Dean Bendis?" Her eyes spit brown fire at me. "You were snoring your ass off on the floor!"

"McGillis," I mutter, knowing it won't really distract her but I haven't said it in far too long. It's another thing on the list of things I haven't let out for a while, really, and normally I wouldn't go there but at the moment my logic is being drowned out by the pounding of the industrial-strength subwoofers somebody seems to have installed inside my skull.

"What?"

"My name." I wave one hand in a random circle. "Well, the one my parents gave me."

"I didn't-" she starts.

"I know," I interrupt. "But I also know you've been dying to."

My ploy works. Somewhat. The heat in her eyes fades and she slumps where she's sitting on the edge of the gurney. "Really, Dean. How could you possibly know that Carter didn't actually kill the bastard?"

"Because he's a Vampire. Not as old as some, older than others. And certainly not the oldest I know. But a Vampire nonetheless."

"And you know this, how?" One of her eyebrows climbs her forehead.

She's not going to rest until she hears everything, I just know it. "I was one of his Samurai when he was Emperor of Japan."

She just blinks at me. "Wh-" She clears her throat. "When was this?"

I sigh. It's never easy to admit to a Human just how old you are. "Back in the late fourteenth century."

Her eyes open impossibly wide. "Fourteenth!? Dear God, Dean. Just how old are you?"

I close my eyes because I've never liked seeing the look on the face of the person I'm talking to when I admit just how old I am. It isn't embarrassing so much as how I just hate seeing their eyes when they realize how much of their 'history' I've seen first-hand. "I was born in 877. That makes me one thousand, one hundred thirty-two years old and I've been a Vampire for one thousand, ninety-nine years." And to be honest, I currently feel each and every one of those years.

"One thousand-" If she wasn't already sitting, I'm sure she would have sat down heavily on the nearest flat surface. "That's-" She shakes her head. "I'm actually speechless!"

I laugh at her response. "No, you're not." She swats me on the arm and I remind her, "Well, you're not. You keep saying stuff." I manage to get a small smile out of her. "Now to get back on topic. Who checked my vitals?"

"Jonathan and I both." She narrows her eyes on my face. "You didn't tell me he knows you're a Vampire."

Now it's my turn for my eyes to open wide. "I didn't?" I know my innocent act isn't fooling her but it does have a smile twitching about the corners of her mouth and maybe – just maybe – she'll forget about how old I am. Pouting's a weapon I save only for desperate times, and I'm not one to brag but it is one I've had plenty of time to perfect. "I do believe I mentioned I've known him his entire life."

"And I'm supposed to know that means he knows about you?"

I sit up slowly, pleased when everything stays where it's supposed to be, and start to remove the IV so I can leave the ambulance. "You're right. But I figured you would make the connection, especially since you asked if he was a Vamp."

She purses her lips but the twinkle in her eyes tells me she's trying to keep from laughing. "I suppose I should have but I wasn't really thinking straight at the time."

Just as we exit the ambulance, Brian, a Chosen whose family has been Chosen Ones for generations, approaches. "You really shouldn't be up and about yet, Detective."

"I'm fine, Brian." I pat him on the shoulder and try to step past him.

"You need more fluids, Dean." He shifts to block my exit. One inconvenient thing about Humans is what we Vampires refer to as their second 'age of wisdom,' when they get just old enough to have a half-ass clue of what they're talking about, but they're still young enough to think they can actually change our minds about something.

"I don't have an open wound so I don't need that much." I again move to step around him but again he steps in front of me.

Brian then crosses his arms. "She said you fed from her recently." He nods at where Jaimie's standing behind me.

I look over my shoulder at her and she just shrugs. "I had a snack from her recently. But she's not the only Chosen I have, you know that."

Brian's eyes narrow on my face. "I thought you hated those terms."

Must these Humans be so damn frustrating? I've got shit to do, dammit! Important shit! "And so I do but it's the easiest way to explain that I barely took a sip a couple of days ago."

And then Brian pulls out his trump card. "Mom would skin me alive if I let you walk outta here without making sure you're properly hydrated."

I chuckle at the fact that Brian is still afraid of being yelled at by his mother. Clamping one hand on his shoulder, I give it a tiny shake and say, "Tell your mother I insisted despite your best efforts, and that I promise to spend several hours at the club just as soon as my boss lets me outta his sight."

Brian is still unsure about letting me leave without giving me some blood. "You gorge yourself tonight. Understand?" He points one finger at me.

I give him a mock salute. "Yes, sir." Looking over his shoulder at the other ambulance I can see Jonathan sitting on the tailgate still being checked out by another EMT. "You done with the boy?"

He turns to look behind him. "Yeah. You know he looks like-"

Crap. "I know," I interrupt quickly, "but he's not even related."

"You sure?" he asks, and I raise one eyebrow. "Right, of course you're sure. How silly of me to doubt you."

Making eye contact with Jonathan, I beckon him to me with a nod of my head.

Brian turns back to face me. "Nick sent out word-"

He tries to continue to question me about why Jonathan looks like Jack O'Neill but I'm not about to let this discussion go any further than it already has. "He sent word about what, Brian? An eyes-only government program?" I dip my head and lower my voice to encourage confidentiality. "And when did he send this word?"

"Six years ago. He asked all Chosen to keep a look out for a runaway boy."

Brian's a good kid and all, but this conversation calls for making him feel like he doesn't know squat, so I somewhat contemptuously wonder, "Does he look like a runaway boy?" One of Brian's eyebrows climbs his forehead, and I sigh deeply. "Fine. Do you really think I'd use a minor in an undercover op?"

"Six years ago the boy was fifteen so now he'd be twenty-one." Brian's starting to look smug.

Taking a step closer, I lower my voice even more, making sure only Brian can hear me. "You tell Nico that I have no idea where this 'runaway boy' he's been looking six years for is." Brian's eyes widen, he swallows and gives a stiff nod of understanding. "You will also tell him to stop looking."

"Of course, Detective."

I give a curt nod of acceptance and step back. "Good. The boy he's looking for deserves to live his life without having to look over his shoulder all the time, don't you agree?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean anything by it."

I slap him on the shoulder. "I know, Buddy. You were just trying to do what your Clan Leader requested."

Yes, that second age of wisdom sure is annoying. Brian's at that inconvenient age where he's old enough to know a thinly veiled 'suggestion' from a nicely-aged Vampire when he hears one, and still young enough to give me that damn puppy-dog look as he hopefully asks, "You're not angry?"

Shaking my head, I smile a bit and pull Brian into a hug. "Naw. You were just trying to keep your mother and Clan Leader happy."

"Remember what I said." Brian wags a finger in my face, trying to use every bit of leverage he's got.

"Yes, Mother," I reply snidely. He snorts in amusement, turns and walks away. And no sooner does Brian leave than my other current personal interrogator latches on to me again.

"What was that all about?" Jaimie asks.

"Not something you need to worry about just now." She makes a rude noise in the back of her throat but lets the subject go. And for a moment, I can almost believe I'm about to catch a break and I'll be able to make my escape, go find Carter, and-

"You mentioned needing to talk to me once this was all over?" Jonathan says, approaching where Jaimie and I are still standing by the ambulance.

Dammit! I scrub one hand over my scalp. Ah well, I've waited this long. And at least I can rationalize it as needing to make the most of these Humans' short life-spans, because once I Turn Carter, he and I will have all the time in the world. Literally. "Actually I need to speak with you both." I cast a look around to make sure no one is paying us any attention before leading the two of them to stand near the front of the ambulance. Turning to face them, I cross my arms over my chest and lean my shoulder against the driver's side door. Looking beyond Jaimie and Jonathan, I watch Carter finish cleaning up the scene. Oh man, Carter's rocking that 'righteous indignation' look. If only he knew what that look did to me…

Jonathan plows right through my little fantasy with a pointed, "Does this have anything to do with what you told me the other day?"

Placate the humans now, fantasize – no, do Carter later. "Yeah, it does," I answer. Jaimie looks from me to Jonathan and back, confusion wrinkling her brow. "I told Jon about whose soul he has."

"Yeah, we're not gonna talk about that," Jonathan grumbles, wrapping his arms around his upper body and turning his face away.

"Except we are," I counter. "Jon has the soul of a woman I knew when I was Human, named Myra."

"You were a woman!?" Jaimie turns to Jonathan, biting back a laugh.

A sneer curls Jonathan's lip. "Not just a woman, the castle whore."

I just barely refrain from slapping him. "Not the castle whore, a castle whore. How many times do I have to tell you that? Besides, she was my first and came to be one of my best friends. And one of just a few women I took to bed on a regular basis."

"Doesn't matter. I spread my legs for anyone who wanted me." Why can't he get past this? Being a whore back in the ninth century wasn't anything to be ashamed of.

"And that's different from how you are now, how?" I raise one eyebrow and hide my smirk at his blush in my hand.

"Hate you," he hisses, his voice pitched low enough for just the three of us to hear him.

Jaimie clears her throat. "You told him about his past life?"

"Yeah, I did." I look over at where she's standing, trying to not picture her as her past life.

"Well?" She bounces in place.

"While I have nothing but fond memories of Jonathan's past life, yours… I never really got along with your past life. In fact, by the time I died I positively hated her."

Jaimie's eyes widen and she actually blanches. "That explains the hostility when we first met."

"Yeah. That and jealousy from the attention Carter was giving you."

She snorts a laugh and tucks her hands in her back pockets, which causes her chest to stick out enough to emphasize her breasts and has Jonathan sneaking peeks out of the corner of his eye. Nice to see that some things never change, though I doubt I'd ever get Jonathan to admit it, and Jaimie jibes, "And now we know just why he was being so attentive, right?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Shall we get back on topic?"

"If ya want." Jaimie shrugs her shoulders and the movement has Jonathan no longer pretending to not be interested.

"Such a horn dog." I can't help but tease him.

"Shut up," he mumbles, once more turning away.

"Back to my past life, if you please, boys." The tone of Jaimie's voice lets me know that I'm dead on about whose soul she has.

God, sometimes I hate talking about the beginning of this lifetime. "When I knew your soul, her name was Erica McKinnon. She was the sister of The McKinnon."

"The…who?" Jaimie interrupts.

"The McKinnon. The leader of the clan."

"Oh!" Her face brightens at the knowledge that she was nobility.

I tuck my hands in my front pockets and lower my gaze to the ground beneath my feet. "Don't get all excited just yet," I tell her. "Erica was a heartless, self-centered bitch."

Jaimie lifts an eyebrow and wonders in a monotone, "Wow. It's a wonder you can stand to be in the same room with me."

"Well, you are most definitely not Erica. Just 'cause you have her soul, doesn't mean you're going to be anything like her. A soul does not determine a person's personality."

Now she's curious. "So why do you hate her? I mean beyond the fact that she was a heartless, self-centered bitch?"

"Erica was a few years younger than me. She was widowed shortly after she was married and by the time she was coming out of her mourning period, one of our biggest enemies was making noise about a marriage to seal a truce between our clans." And may God have had mercy on the poor bastard's soul if that had happened.

But I don't add that last part. I just see the expectant look on Jaimie's face and inform her, "The McKinnon refused to even consider it so he married Erica to The Second McKinnon."

"Wait, he married her to a family member?" Jaimie interrupts to demand, disgust heavy in her tone.

I look up through my lashes at her. "No. He married her to the second in command of the entire clan."

"But, you said-"

"I know what I said. The man's proper title was The Second McKinnon because whenever The McKinnon was away, he was in charge."

"Oh." She looks over at Jonathan and they share a look of confusion. "How does this explain why you hate her?"

A small smile crosses my face; they're making me wait to get to Carter, so I'm going to milk this for all the admittedly petty annoyance I can get. Fair's fair, after all. "I'm getting there." I clear my throat and glance up to make sure there's still no one within hearing distance. "On her wedding day, Erica stood before the priest and the entire clan and swore that her husband would not be the only man to grace her bed. She hated him every bit as much as he hated her and she wanted to humiliate him before the entire clan for having the balls to rise up from his meager beginnings." I pause just to get stock of my audience's wide-eyed shock when they get the gist of Erica's 'wedding vows' before I plow on. "See, the man who was The Second was born to the poorest of the clan's crofters and after his parents died, he challenged The McKinnon and accidentally won the right to sit at his right hand."

Jaimie blinks at me, her mouth open in surprise. It's obvious she remembers what little I've told her of my history. "But, Dean, you were born to the poorest family in your clan."

"Yes, I was."

"Erica was your wife!?" I can't tell if she's pissed over what Erica did to me, or that I hadn't told her before now.

A glance at where Jonathan's standing shows he's just as shocked as Jaimie. "You were married to your laird's sister?"

"Not by choice, I assure you. She was the one person who never accepted me at table. She maintained that I would never be good enough to eat with the 'rich folk' as she called the clan nobility."

"So what happened?" Jonathan asks, leaning forward slightly.

"I told her that she had better make sure she never got pregnant because there was no way in Hell I was going to raise another man's bairn."

"You said that in front of the clan?" Jaimie's eyes are as big as saucers.

Did she not just hear Erica's wedding vows? "If the bitch could swear to share her bed with every man who wanted, then why couldn't I force her to not get pregnant?"

"But that means that you weren't ever going to be a father." For some reason Jaimie's the one who can't get past this point.

"Didn't want kids. The person I was in love with couldn't give me children so-" I shrug.

"Who were you in love with? I mean back then not very many women couldn't conceive."

"I was in love with a man." And I'm surprised that at least Jaimie hasn't made the connection yet.

"And?" they say in unison.

"Back then it may not have been a big deal to have sex with other men before marriage but settling down with one was definitely not something that would be overlooked."

I shift away from the side of the ambulance until I'm standing up straight, hands pushed deeper into my pockets. "Highland rules allowed men to fuck each other before they married. Once married, though, only women were allowed in your bed. Until your wife died, that is. Marriage to Erica meant that I was no longer allowed to fuck the man I was in love with."

"And you hated her for that, too?" Jonathan asks, head tilted to one side.

"It wasn't her choice anymore than it was mine, so no. I only hated her for the way she treated me."

"So who were you in love with?" I can see Jaimie trying to picture me head over heels for some kilt wearing Highlander.

"His name was Adair McShaw." As I say his name for the first time in years, my eyes land on where Carter is still directing the clean up. Despite him being a direct descendant of Adair's he doesn't look all that much like him but I can see Adair in just about all of Carter's movements.

Jaimie and Jonathan turn as one to follow my gaze, then turn back, Jaimie giving me a look of genuine surprise and Jonathan giving me one of sympathy. "And now you're in love with Carter?" Jaimie asks.

It's the first time I've said it aloud to Jaimie. "Yeah. He's my Soul Mate."

"Wait, McShaw, Shaw. Is Carter related to Adair?" Jaimie's on a bit of a roll. She's really learned how to interrogate a person.

I nod. "He is."

"Oh, Dean," Jaimie breathes, her voice full of compassion.

"It's not that bad, James. Carter has already practically ordered me to tell him my secrets once this case is over."

"So no more feedings?" She actually looks like she'll miss me fucking her while feeding.

Jonathan nudges her with his elbow. "You're not the only one he won't be fucking and feeding from anymore."

I shake my head to stop Jaimie from responding. "Erica may not have been faithful, but I was. My da always told me to respect the person I'll be spending the rest of my life with. I take my vows seriously and soon I'll be Turning Carter which in Vampire society is as binding as any Human marriage."

"You were celibate for the length of your marriage?" Apparently Jaimie thinks she knows me pretty well.

"Nope. I insisted on twice monthly visits. And The McKinnon backed me. Told her if she denied me my marital rights, he'd disown her."

"That's-" Jaimie starts to protest the way women were treated back then.

"The way it was back then, Jaimie. I certainly don't agree with it now, but back then-" I shrug one shoulder. "-that's just how it was." A glance in Carter's direction tells me I need to finish saying what it is I have to tell them. "But we're getting off topic again."

"And what exactly is the topic, Dean?" Jaimie crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the side of the ambulance.

I scratch the middle of my forehead and try to figure out how to tell them of my suspicions. "I think the two of you may be Soul Mates."

They glance sharply at each other. "Did Erica and Myra ever sleep with each other?" Jonathan asks.

I chuckle humorlessly and reply, "Oh, hell no. Erica couldn't stand anyone who was of lower class than her and if a woman was prettier, she had better watch her back."

"Then what makes you think we're Soul Mates?" Jaimie looks confused, which isn't really all that surprising seeing as until she saw me vamp out she didn't know that much about Vampires.

"The way the two of you honed in on each other the instant you met and how you can barely stand to not be touching even now." As if to prove my words, they move a step closer until their arms are touching. "Feel better now?" I ask when they both relax from the stiff way I'm sure they weren't even aware they were standing. They share a sheepish look and nod. "Thinking back on things, I see now that both Myra and Erica were more relaxed when they were both in the same room. As far as I know they never had any dealings with each other but Erica was definitely aware of Myra's presence; how could she not be aware of a woman living in her home? And of course Myra knew Erica, she was The McKinnon's sister after all so everyone knew her."

"So how do we know for sure if we are Soul Mates?" I can see Jonathan trying to figure out what this means exactly, almost as if he can't decide if he wants it to be true or not.

"Well, one of you will have to be Turned and then we'll know when you touch."

"I don't understand," Jaimie says, her brows lowered over her nose in confusion.

"This is why you should have let me tell you about Vampires." I wag a finger in her face and she just rolls her eyes at me.

Before I can begin to answer her question, Jonathan picks up the tale. "When a Vampire touches his Soul Mate they both feel a tingle like if one of them had been rubbing socked feet along a carpet."

"That's very helpful." Jaimie nods her head in understanding.

"Especially if the Vampire hasn't ever met his Mate before and can't rely on recognizing their Mate's Soul in the eyes of their current Human form."

Jaimie, as always, has more questions. "Do Soul Mates ever find each other as Humans, marry and die without ever being Turned?"

"Oh, yes. It's rare, but it does happen. My parents were one of those pairs."

"How do you know?" she wonders.

It's actually one of the few fond memories I have of my parents. "I remember the way they looked at each other and how they were always touching. Most of the time the touches weren't even sexual, just gentle loving caresses."

"At least you know they'll find each other again." I know Jaimie is trying to make me feel better but my memories of my parents will always be tinged with sadness.

Before I have a chance to respond, Carter approaches. "Dean." Fuck! He's pissed! I do my best to keep my eyes lowered because I've found that, just like with his glasses, seeing Carter pissed off turns me on like crazy.

"Carter." I step between Jaimie and Jonathan and over to where Carter's standing at the end of the ambulance.

Carter is not in a pleasant mood, which I've noticed tends to happen whenever one of his people gets shot. "You have a lot of paperwork to do. I suggest you get started on that. Now." He looks over my shoulders at where Jaimie and Jonathan are. "Jaimie will see that your friend gets home safely."

"Yes, Boss." I don't even turn back to look at Jaimie and Jonathan before walking over to my car, climbing inside and heading back to the loft. Trust Carter to put work before pleasure, and since I want this encounter to go as smoothly as possible then I don't plan on cutting any corners.

I actually write my entire report in detail. Well, not complete detail. I mean, I don't mention fucking Jonathan or seducing the neighbor woman but I gave minute details of everything else, like my conversation with Carter and Ty about using Jonathan for the op. I even go so far as to use some of the background info Jonathan set up for himself to explain why he was perfect for the role.

Once finished, I email Carter my report and print out a copy since he likes to have it on paper.

I place it in a folder on his desk and turn to leave, relishing the thought of going upstairs and crashing for the next seventy-two hours. I could use a little rest before starting the most awkward conversation of Carter's life.

Before I even take two steps, I see Carter walking toward me. Except I don't see him as Carter, I see him as Adair. Complete with léine and long flowing hair with braids at his temples. I blink and give my head a sharp shake.

When I look again, it's Carter Shaw that's standing before me with his brows lowered over his nose in a mixture of anger and frustration. "And just where the hell do you think you're going?"

With a sigh, I settle back on my heels and tuck my thumbs in my back pockets. "I thought I'd go home. Catch a few Z's." I shrug and point over my shoulder toward his desk with my head. "My report's in your email inbox and in the folder on your desk." I go to step around him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been a long day."

He shifts until he's blocking my path and when I look again, the frustration's gone and he's beyond angry. Placing one hand in the center of my chest, he shoves a little, forcing me to give ground. "Damnit, Dean! What were you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" Carter in a full on protective rant is a sight to behold. His eyes sparkle, the color rides high on his cheeks and if he happens to be touching me, well, the Bond flares white hot; almost hot enough to burn.

"I was doin' my job!" I puff myself up and get right in his face, just like I used to do whenever Adair would question my actions. Only thing is that Carter, for all that he has Adair's soul, isn't Adair and as such doesn't back down. Not one inch. This leaves us glaring at each other, noses almost touching.

"You never gave the signal!"

"I had it under control until you walked in."

"I could see just how well you had everything in hand," he snaps sarcastically.

"And this is exactly why you had me wear a vest! When it became obvious that things were about to go south, I made a judgment call and was just about to take him down when you burst in and took my focus off him which gave him the opening he needed."

"So it's all on me? I don't think so."

"Fuck it, Carter! When the hell will you trust me to do my job properly?"

"Maybe about the same time you trust me with your secret?" His response pulls a snort of laughter out of me. If he only knew.

And we're back to staring each other down. Neither willing to give in.

I'm positive if I wasn't so attuned to him, I wouldn't have noticed the second he makes his decision. Between one of his heart beats and the next, his hands whip out and grab my face just before his lips crush mine. Oh, thank God! Instinct takes over and I relax and let him take control, opening my mouth to his questing tongue. I moan deep in my throat at the promises he's making against my tongue with his. Before long, he's pulling back. A groan at the loss builds but before I can give voice to it, he spins me around so that I'm bent over his desk, my weight braced on my hands.

God, is this really happening? Have I died and gone to Heaven? His hands fumble with my belt and fly but eventually he gets them undone and pushes my pants and boxers down to my knees. I can hear him undoing his own fly, and yet I still startle a bit when two spit wet fingers probe my hole. "God, you're already prepped?"

I can't not answer him, my voice little more than a throaty groan of, "Yeah. Started prepping myself the day I met you."

"Oh, God," he moans, removing his fingers and slowly pressing inside. "Fuck!" he grunts when I clamp down on his length.

"I do believe that's what we're doin'." I push back to take more of him inside.

"Shut up, lad!" he orders in Gaelic. God, what a hell of a time for Adair to make an appearance.

I let my head hang down between my arms and relax even further, allowing him to fuck my brains out. He finds the proper angle to hit my sweet spot and nails it on every in stroke. Just when I gather the energy to reach under me, I feel his hand wrap around me and begin stroking me. He seems to know exactly how I like it, each stroke ending in a quick twist at the head before slowly running back down; his grip tighter on the up stroke, than the down. Much too soon, my orgasm races up my spine to slam into my skull, causing me to scream as I spill my load all over his desk and hand.

Carter runs his hands up my back under my shirt and around my chest, his left hand coming to rest over my heart. A couple more thrusts and he empties himself inside my guts before sagging a bit over my back. It takes a few minutes before he realizes that he can't feel my heart beating.

Through the Bond, that our fucking has intensified, I feel his anger spike just seconds before he roughly pulls out. I slowly straighten, pulling my pants and boxers back up before turning to face him. My heart breaks at the stiff way he's standing with his back to me.

"Carter, I can explain," I begin, only to have him shut me down.

"Really, Dean? You can explain why you didn't tell me you're a vampire, something that I know doesn't exist?" He spins to face me, buckling his belt, and I wish to God he had kept his back turned. The anguish – the betrayal – that is shining from his eyes hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

"How can you say Vampires don't exist when you just felt for yourself that they – that I – exist! Seriously, Carter. Why do you persist in ignoring the evidence that's right before you?"

"Vampires go against every law of nature I know. How can something that doesn't breathe walk around?"

"Can't say I know the answer to that one, but I know someone who does."

He tilts his head back, looking down his nose at me. Despite the posture, I don't feel that he's looking down on me like so many of the upper class did when I was a kid, more like he's not sure what to make of me. "This your big secret?"

"Part of it, yeah."

He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. "What's the other part?"

"Trust me when I say you don't want to know."

"No more lies or secrets, Dean." He steps back toward me, his eyes taking on the hard edge that warns I'd be wise to do as ordered.

Oh, if he only knew! I chuckle mentally then remember that I can now tell him. With a shrug I lean back against the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. "Very well. The rest of it, the reason I come to work every day prepped and lubed, is that you're my Soul Mate."

He actually stops and blinks at me for a second. "Your what?"

"Soul Mate. The other half of my soul. We're destined to spend eternity together."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you known this?" I can see I'm losing him again.

Instead of answering, I step up to him and grab his hand. "Do you feel that?" I ask when the Bond flares bright in the back of my head.

His eyes narrow and I can see he's thinking about lying. "What is it?" he manages to surprise me when he actually admits to feeling it.

"It's our Bond. It's how a Vampire knows when they've met their Mate." I try and remember what Viggo told me all those years ago.

"Does the human usually feel it too?"

I give a one shouldered shrug. "Dunno. Why do you ask?"

"I feel it each time we touch. Have felt it since that first day."

God, he's known, however subconsciously, that we're meant to be and has kept it from me. The fact that he didn't know what it is notwithstanding, it just adds to more of the stress I've been feeling lately. "Why the fuck didn't you say something!?"

He just shrugs. "Didn't think it was important. Besides, most times it just felt like when someone who has built up excess static electricity touches you."

I don't even know what to say to that. Chewing on my lip, I lower my head and look up at him through my lashes. He stares right back. And we're now at an impasse. I know what I want to happen next but I'm not sure he's ready for it. Correction, I know he's not ready for it.

He tilts his head to the side. "How about we take this somewhere a tad more private? Say, my place, since it's closer?"

I have to laugh at that. "Actually, my place is closer."

"That right?" He doesn't seem to believe me.

"Follow me," I say and walk to the elevator. Once we're both on, I close the doors and hit the up button.

"So that house I visit whenever we have things at your place…?"

"A decoy." The elevator comes to a stop on my floor with a lurch and I open the doors.

"Right." He steps around me and slowly prowls my living space.

Something deep inside unfurls at seeing my Mate where he belongs at long last. Maybe before the night is over we'll be a step closer to him being Turned. Not to mention the fact that he's now standing beside my bed and I can't stop picturing him buried balls deep in my ass.

I step up behind him and turn him so I can capture his lips in a heated kiss. Making promises of my own against his tongue. His hands find their way up under my shirt and I shiver as the Bond once again sizzles along my nerve endings. Carter pulls my shirt off over my head pulling a growl of protest from deep within me at having to give up my possession of his mouth. "Easy, lad," he purrs, Adair once again making an untimely appearance.

Sliding my hands up his chest, I push his jacket off his shoulders before beginning to unbutton his shirt. I attach my lips to the corner of his jaw, sucking lightly. Carter moans and flexes his fingers against my scalp.

"So, how often do you need to… um… feed?" Carter pulls back to ask.

With an irritated noise, I grab the open halves of his shirt to keep him from getting too far away. "Every couple of days. A week at the most."

"Huh," he huffs. "When was the last time you fed?" He trails the fingers of one hand along my collarbone.

"Yesterday." A shiver begins at my toes and works its way up my spine.

His lips droop and the heat in them intensifies. "So you don't need to feed right now?"

Is he trying to kill me? "No, I don't. Although I do usually feed once a day, which isn't always possible if we're in the middle of a case."

He growls softly. "You're not getting it, Dean. I want you to feed from me. Show me what I've been missing."

I step back out of his arms, shaking my head. "No."

Carter's eyes narrow, his eyebrows lowering over his nose. "Why not? You said it's only a matter of time before you turn me."

"It's not the same." I pace away from him. "The Bond is reinforced every time we touch but feeding from you would make it even stronger."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Reminding myself that he doesn't know these things, I turn to face him. "It can be. With how dangerous our jobs are, you could be taken from me at anytime and I've seen too many friends begin the Bonding process before Turning their Mate and then watched them descend into madness when the Mate died." I've seen it firsthand. Seen it happen to the last person I'd expected or even wanted to see again, in fact. But I also remember what happened to him when she died. God, the things he did when she took his sanity with her… it still haunts me sometimes. And the small part of me that still can't think about that time without being horrified is just relieved in a way all Vampires understand, a sort of 'Glad that wasn't me'. I actually kinda feel sorry for the bastard, even though I'd never actually say it to his face.

"Then go ahead and turn me." He reaches for me again.

I step back. If I let him touch me now, my resolve will disappear and I'll give in to his demand. "No." I shake my head even harder than before.

"I can't believe you said 'no' again, Dean. C'mon, I know you want to." He leers at me and I can feel my will slipping.

"You're not ready. There are things you need to know first."

"But you'll be here to help me, right?"

I rub my hands over my scalp. "I don't get you, Carter. I mean, one minute you insist that Vampires – that I – don't exist and the next you're demanding I not only feed from you, but Turn you too." I can't seem to stay still and so pace in circles around the sleeping area of my apartment.

"How long have we known each other?" His question gives me pause. I stop and stare at him trying to figure out if he means in general or what.

Eventually I figure out he means in this life. "Three years, give or take."

He nods. "There were a lot of people who warned me to not tap you for my team. They said you were too much of a loose cannon; that you were a wild dog that tended to slip its leash way too often. I was told you were nothing but a major headache and that you would most likely get me and the rest of the team killed." He manages to sneak up on me. The warmth of his hand on my shoulder gives the heat of the Bond a run for its money. "From the moment I looked into your eyes I knew they were all just jealous. That you and I would be perfect together. I think that somewhere deep down I knew that we were meant to be together for eternity. I can't say I love you, Dean, because I don't. Not yet at any rate, but if what you're saying is true, and why wouldn't it be? then one day I will love you. So why not turn me now? Why make us wait, risking one or the other of us dying before we can bond?"

I jerk away from him, my eyes narrowed in anger. "Bullshit, Carter. I don't know what game you're playing but I do know this isn't you. Did people try to warn you against hiring me? Sure. Did you take one look at me and decide to give me a chance anyway? Absolutely. But knowing we're meant to be together before now? No way in fucking hell."

He grins at me. "Didn't buy that, huh?"

My eyes narrow; he thinks this is funny now? "What made you think I would? Is this some kind of game for you? Because it's not a game for me. This is my life, Carter."

He has the grace to look chagrined. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm having a hard believing this whole soul mate thing. I can believe that you're a vampire because I have the evidence of there not being a heart beating in your chest." He steps closer again and wraps one hand around the back of my neck. "Think we could discuss this later? After maybe another round or two of wild monkey sex?"

"Wild monkey sex?" I choke on my laughter. Here's yet another bit of evidence that Carter isn't Adair. Sex with Adair was always pretty serious. Most encounters were so quick we barely had time to talk, before or after, much less joke around. Of course Adair was a very serious person. He didn't see humor in much. For all that Carter takes life seriously, he does find the humor in some things and can make me laugh quite easily. "I think we can do that."

Sliding my hands up his chest, I push his shirt off his shoulders then pull his undershirt off over his head before leaning in and capturing his lips in a spine tingling kiss while undoing his belt and fly.

His hands land on my hips and slowly begin to make their way up my torso. When his left one encounters the scar on the lower right of my abdomen, they pause and he pulls back to look down at it. "What happened here?"

I try to figure out how to explain that the scar he's currently fingering is the one I got when I died. Deciding that now's not the time, I grab his wrist and place his hand where I want it most. On my erection. "We can discuss that later," I purr, leaning forward to nibble on his Adam's apple.

After squeezing me a few times through the cloth covering my dick, he slips both hands around to the back and under the band of my underwear so he can grab my ass cheeks. With a groan, I being trailing kisses down his chest, stopping to tease his nipples and dip my tongue into his navel. When I get to his waistband, I dip my tongue under it, pulling a hiss from him. With a smirk, I kneel and, looking up at him from beneath my lashes while running my tongue seductively along my lower lip, pull his pants and underwear down to his knees. His erection springs free and I don't even think before I lean forward to bury my nose in his pubic hair, inhaling deeply.

His places his hands on my head, not guiding, just resting there. Running the tip of my tongue up the vein on the underside of his dick, I suck the head into my mouth, dipping my tongue into the slit. His breath hitches in his throat and his fingers flex against my skull and I know if I had hair he'd be clutching it. "Dean," he growls when I begin teasing him with my teeth. A glance upwards has me deciding to stop with the teasing and just get on with what I'm on my knees for.

Taking a breath I don't need, I slowly take his entire length down my throat. Once my nose is pressed against his quivering belly, I swallow. He stops breathing for a heartbeat. His fingers tighten each time I swallow until I'm afraid he'll squash my head like a melon. "I think I found one advantage to having a vampire for a lover," he pants.

After just a few minutes, he's pushing rather desperately on my head. "Dean! Stop! I'm gonna…" He shudders and moans when I pull off his cock with an obscenely wet slurp.

"That's kinda the point, Carter," I inform him, licking my lips like the cat that got the canary.

"Don't wanna come down your throat." He tugs on my shoulders until I'm standing.

He doesn't wanna come down my… If I still breathed I know I'd be panting right now at what those words mean. "Oh, yeah. I want you to come in my ass, too." I push him down on the bed so I can remove his shoes and pull his pants and underwear off. Once done, he scoots back on the bed until he's propped up on his elbows, legs splayed, in the middle.

I toe off my shoes and shove my pants and boxers down, I never did up the fly from earlier, then step out of them before crawling up the bed to lie on top of him. Both of us groan at the flash from the Bond when our skin touches. "God, Dean. How could I have denied myself this for all these years?" Good question. And one I have no answer for.

I lick a stripe up his neck from his shoulder to his jaw. A small voice in the back of my head tells me to go ahead and bite him, feed from him. What can it hurt? my subconscious asks. He's your Mate. Go on! Ya know ya wanna.

Suppressing a growl, I tell it to shut the fuck up and settle for just nibbling my way back down and along his collarbone, leaving a tiny bruise in the dip where the two halves meet.

Carter doesn’t just lie there and let me learn his body. His hands seem to be everywhere at once. Stroking down from my shoulders to my ass and back up. One hand eventually settles on the back of my head and the other on my flank.

We rub against each other until I feel my orgasm building. Pulling back from where he's sucking on my tongue, I shift until I'm sitting astride him. Wrapping my hand around his dick, I lean up, getting ready to impale myself. "No," he says, grabbing my wrist.

"What?" I blink down at him. How dare he decide he doesn't want this now?

"I want you in me."

"Are you sure?" I've dreamed of hearing those words from him for years. Adair certainly never would have let me top him.

When he nods, I reach under the pillow and pull out a bottle of Astroglide. Smearing some on my fingers, I kneel between his legs and just about swallow my tongue when he grabs his thighs to pull them back for me. "God, Carter! You ever done this before?" I don't want to know the answer, and yet I need to know.

Carter whines low in his throat when I begin to rub one finger against his exposed hole. "It's been a while, but yeah, I've done this before," he manages to grunt out.

The surge of jealousy that his answer causes surprises me. I've never been the jealous type. Adair and I both had other lovers and it didn't bother me. I guess I was hoping I'd get to be Carter's first like Adair was mine.

Slowly I press inside and begin to twist my finger, making sure to spread the lube all over. After about a minute, I add more lube and a second finger. Carter shudders and sighs, clamping down on my fingers. With a smirk, I dribble more lube down his crack, then add a third finger. He screams my name when I brush my fingers over his prostate. God, Carter screaming my name… as if my dick wasn't already hard enough to be painful.

Deciding I've tortured him long enough, I squirt some lube onto my cock and slowly enter him while keeping my fingers where they are. His eyes roll back in his head and it's obvious he's having difficulty catching his breath.

Once I'm fully seated, I remove my fingers and stretch out fully on top of him, my arms under his shoulders, my hands fisted in his hair. Tremors wrack both our frames. My skin burns everywhere that we're touching. I slowly begin to move, staring into his eyes the whole time. His pupils are blown so wide with passion there's only a thin ring of crystal blue left.

"Let me see your fangs," he whispers, one hand coming up to cup the back of my head.

Bracing myself on my fists over him, I open my mouth and extend my fangs. He pulls my upper lip up so he can see my gums. He runs one finger down one of my fangs, stopping just shy of the tip. His eyes meet mine and he holds my gaze as he slowly pulls my head down until he can run his tongue along my gums and down my fangs. Hooking his ankles beneath my ass, he urges me to start moving while sealing his mouth to mine and going on a search for my tonsils.

We fight for dominance of the kiss for several minutes, until he has to pull back to breathe. He takes this opportunity to guide my head toward his neck. He's tossed his head back, baring his throat.

Just inches from doing as he wants, I remember my objections and with a hiss, I pull back to crouch at the foot of the bed. Carter growls his protest and sits up to reach for me. I snarl a warning and he backs off.

"Dean?" he calls softly, settling on his knees at the head of the bed.

We stare at each other for several of his heartbeats. I shake my head to clear the rest of the fogginess that fucking my Mate left me with. "I'm not so far gone that you can get my instincts to do what you want, Carter."

"I'm sorry." And he sounds like he genuinely is sorry for what he tried to do.

"Not sorry enough," I mutter, stumbling off the bed and around it to where my clothes lay in an untidy heap. Snapping up my jeans, I yank them on followed by my shirt. Just my luck: one minute he's in denial about Vampires, and the next minute it turns out he's not only been thinking about hopping into bed with me this entire time but he's also turning out to have a Vampire fetish? Attention, Fate, I'm having enough problems controlling myself here!

"Where the fuck are you going?" Carter yells when I pick up my shoes on my way out of the room.

"Away from here before I do something we'll both regret," I call over my shoulder.

Before he can say anything, I slam out the stairwell door and stomp down to the loft while doing up my fly and buckling my belt, and over to Carter's desk, intent on raiding the stash in his bottom drawer.

I'm almost there when a scent registers. "Jaimie," I growl when I finally notice her standing at Carter's desk.

A part of me sits up when I see that she's wearing a short skirt and a pair of heels.

"Dean," she begins but I don't let her finish.

Stepping up to her, I grab her face with both hands and shove my tongue into her mouth. I don't wanna hear whatever it is she might have to say. Slipping my hands down her body, I hook them under her thighs and lift her high enough for her to wrap her legs around my waist. I then stalk over to the wall where I slam her back against it. "I love it when you wear a skirt." My voice is a deep rumble that causes her to shiver.

I get a couple of fingers under the elastic around the leg opening of her panties and pull it aside while undoing my fly with the other hand. Tugging my erection out of my pants, I line up with her entrance and slam home pulling a gasp of surprise from her.

When she breaks the kiss in order to breathe, I tilt my head and sink my fangs deep into her neck, shuddering as the metallic taste of her blood rushes over my tongue.

Slipping one hand up under her shirt, I tug the cup of her bra down and fondle her breast, applying the amount of pressure that she likes. Rolling her nipple between my fingers, I squeeze a tad harder than usual. She seems to enjoy it, throwing her head back as much as she can and tightening her pussy muscles around my cock. We both climax at the same time. I pull my fangs from her vein and lick the wound closed.

She strokes the back of my head soothingly. "I guess you still haven't told Carter?"

"Oh, no. He told Carter about an hour ago." Carter's voice booms through the empty space.

Jaimie lets out a tiny little 'meep' and unwinds her legs from my waist. I slowly lower her, tilting my head the other direction to look over my shoulder at where Carter is standing stiffly, looking for all the world like the Highland Scot he once was. Only things missing are his léine, a tartan and some war paint. I'm vaguely aware of Jaimie putting her clothes to rights.

"Leave!" Carter barks when it becomes apparent that Jaimie isn't going to take the hint and go. "Get out!" he orders again when she continues to hesitate.

She looks at me and I give a tiny nod telling her it'll be fine. She sails from the room, nose firmly in the air. She's gonna be hell to deal with for the next several days.

"Do you not know how it feels to walk in here and see you with your prick shoved up some tramp's twat, Dean?" he demands in Gaelic.

Of course. I turn to face my irate Mate. "Hello, Adair," I respond, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over my chest.

"Don't you be helloing me, lad," he snaps. "Have ya last your mind? Don't ye know what'll happen if'n The McKinnon finds out? Bedding a wench where the Lady Erica can see ye. Ye must be daft."

"Not quite," I reply softly. I know I fucked up but I can't seem to find the energy to care at this moment.

"What does that mean?"

"It means –" I trail off at the confused look that crosses his face.

Adair is gone again, and now in front of me is Carter, looking equal points puzzled and pissed. "Dean? What the hell just happened?"

Sighing deeply, I straighten back up, put my own clothes to rights and walk over to where Carter's still standing, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "You just experienced one of your past lives breaking through."

He looks up at me like I've lost my mind. "I don't understand."

I sigh deeply, settle all my weight on one foot and link my hands behind my neck. "It's complicated."

"So simplify it for me." I haven't seen him this pissed since Ty questioned him about arresting Frye.

"It's not a simple thing to do." It's starting to look like he might have a heart attack. "Seriously Carter. I'm not trying to be difficult."

"I said no more lies or secrets, Dean!" We're standing nose to nose and it takes everything within me to not grab him, throw him to the floor and fuck him until neither of us can walk.

"You aren't ready to hear my whole truth, yet, Carter!"

"How the hell do you know I'm not ready?" If his current tone is any indication, we won't be going back upstairs to finish what we started earlier.

"Because I'm not ready and it's my truth!" I pace away, my hands stacked on top of each other on top of my head, fighting back my own anger and frustration.

I have never in all my years on this planet been this much at a loss for how to proceed. There isn't one person in my life who knows my entire story. Hell, I don't even know my entire story because I don't even remember being Turned. But even if I did, I don't think I'd tell Carter about it. Not now at any rate. Who wants to know that someone they trust to watch their six was Turned Without Consent so soon after finding out that that person isn't even Human?

In Vampire society, being Turned Without Consent is on par with a Human being raped. It holds the same stigma. And other Vampires look down on you because if you couldn't protect yourself enough to keep from being Turned then how can you possibly protect your Vampire family?

I always thought that was unfair for Vampires with stories like mine. I may not remember being Turned but I do know that the creature that Turned me did so just moments before I would have died of blood loss.

Carter steps into my path, forcing me to stop my pacing. Taking my face in his hands, he looks me in the eye. "Is this something you think you'll be able to tell me in time?"

I close my eyes. "Eventually. I think I can."

"Then we don't need to worry about this now." He pulls me in and places a chaste kiss on my lips. "For now, I want you to go feed and then come see me upstairs."

I blink at him. "You want me to go feed?"

"You need to, don't you?" I give a small shrug. "When was the last time you fed?"

I have to actually stop and think about it. "Yesterday."

"Then go. Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?" I step back out of his grip and begin walking toward the door.

"Don't fuck whoever you feed from."

Turning to look at him over my shoulder, the look on his face has me walking back to where he's standing. Taking his face in my hands, I lick my way into his mouth, telling him without words that he doesn't have to ever worry about that.

He pulls back so he can breathe, places his hands on my shoulders and pushes me gently in the direction of the door. "Go. Now. Before I change my mind."

With one last kiss to his forehead, I walk out of the loft and climb into my truck.

I sit there for a few minutes with the engine idling, trying to decide exactly which local club I want to go to because I definitely don't have the time to drive all the way to San Francisco. Tapping a beat against the steering wheel, I decide to visit a club I haven't been to in quite some time.

Decision made, I exit the parking garage and head toward the club about half an hour's drive away.

When I arrive at the club, I park and enter, by-passing the main room in favor of the back hallway where you can hire a Donor for however long you require them.

On both sides of the hall are little booths similar to those found in a peep show. Each room is lit by a different color light: red for Donors who have been fed from recently, yellow for those who have only been used as snacks and green for those who can provide a full feeding.

It's still early enough in the evening that most rooms are green. As I walk down the hall, the Donors in the rooms try to catch my attention. Most of them are extremely attractive but I'm looking for someone in particular. Of course it's been so long since I've been here that she may not work here anymore.

In the last room on the right, I find the person I'm looking for.

A pretty girl dressed in what she herself calls happy Goth, is sitting in a chair with her feet propped on the wall and reading The Little Prince in the original French. I tap on the glass of her window with one knuckle and she jumps before flashing me a pretty smile. She bounces to her feet and throws the door open before launching herself into my arms.

"Dean!" she squeals, hugging my neck as tight as she can.

I chuckle and return the hug. "How ya doing, Tracy?"

"I was beginning to think I wasn't ever going to see you again!" She pulls back to smack me on the arm.

"Sorry about that. Life's been keeping me really busy."

"Mmhm." I can see she doesn't believe me. "What's been going on?"

"Well, I found my Mate."

Her eyes widen and she hugs me tight again. "Oh, Dean! I'm so happy for you!"

"I haven't Turned him yet." She leans away from me to narrow her eyes on my face. "Not that I don't want to but I just today told him about me."

"That right?" I can't identify the tone of her voice but I know it can't be good.

I roll my eyes. "Sue me. After what I've been through, I think I have the right to be hesitant to tell people the truth."

Tracy actually looks chagrined. "I'll give you that. So, what's he like?" She tucks her hands under her chin and acts like she's about to settle in for the gabfest of the century.

I tug on one of her ponytails. "I don't really have time to talk about him right now."

"Is he waiting for you?"

"He is. And before you ask, I'm not going to feed from him until he's ready to Turn."

Her lips thin and she harrumphs. "Whatever. So what can I do for you tonight?"

"He sent me out for a meal. You up for one?" She glances over her shoulder at the green light coloring the booth she's standing in. "Right. Like I said, it's been a busy day."

She nods her head, reaches behind her to shut off the light, takes my hand and leads me to one of the rooms around the corner.

I let her pull me inside and close the door before I tell her what Carter asked of me.

Clearing my throat, I scratch the back of my head and do my best to ignore the large bed that's taking up most of the room. "Um, there's something I have to tell you." I walk away a bit, then turn to face her. Squaring my shoulders, I take a breath and just tell her, "Carter has asked me to not fuck my Donors anymore."

A soft smile graces her face. "I think it's sweet that you're going to honor him by not sleeping around anymore." I roll my eyes. "I can certainly deal with just feeding you. Although I will miss that dick of yours," she says with a wistful sigh.

"And I'll miss fucking my Donor but I respect Carter too much to not do as he asks. I won't say it'll be easy for me, because you know it won't be, but I'm willing to do this because my Mate has asked it of me."

"And I totally respect that." She pouts at me. "Does this mean I'm not allowed to get any pleasure out of your feeding?"

Chuckling softly, I pull a chair out to the middle of the room. "Absolutely not. He asked me to not fuck my Donor but didn't say anything about giving them pleasure."

She bounces on her toes and claps her hands. "Yay!" She goes so quickly from sweet and innocent to sultry, licking her bottom lip and eyeing me through her lashes, I almost get whiplash. "So what are we gonna do?"

I beckon her with a crook of my finger. "C'mere and find out."

She approaches where I'm sitting, swinging her hips enticingly. "Tracy, stop it!" I growl. She complies with a tiny sigh and stops in front of my chair, her head lowered demurely and her hands clasped in front of her. Reaching out, I wrap my hands around her hips and guide her to straddle my lap.

She leans down and seals her mouth to mine, her tongue sweeping inside to tangle with mine. Running both hands up her thighs and under her tiny little skirt, I slip my fingers under the elastic of her panties until I can cup her ass cheeks in both palms. I give each globe a squeeze before trailing the fingers of my right hand along the crease where her leg meets her body until I can slip two fingers into her.

With a breathy moan, she breaks the kiss, throws her head back and guides my mouth to her neck. I kiss the skin of her throat before placing my mouth over the spot where I can see the blood pumping from her heart up to her brain through her carotid artery. Just as I extend my fangs in preparation of biting her, she wiggles a little, trying to get my fingers in deeper.

Knowing this will be one of the last times I'll be with her, I push them in as far as I can and rub my thumb over her clit. Her breath catches in her throat on a tiny gasp and she gives a barely there shudder.

Pushing my fangs through her beautiful skin, I suck greedily at the sweet blood that comes seeping out. Her blood has a spicy after-taste, telling me she had her favorite Indian food recently.

Curling my fingers, I rub against her G-spot causing her back to arch sharply. I place my left hand on the back of her head to keep her more or less in place.

When I rub that spot again, she groans and clutches at my scalp. Knowing she's close to the edge, I swirl my thumb over her clit while running my fingers lightly in a circle on her G-spot. It does the trick and just as I pull my fangs from her neck, her body trembles with the force of her orgasm.

She collapses against my chest and tucks her head under my chin. I continue gently stroking her until she's had enough and pulls my hand up where we can each lick my fingers clean, our tongues touching often. Once my fingers are clean, we nibble on each other's lips for several minutes.

Eventually she sighs sadly and begins to get off my lap. "You shouldn't keep him waiting any longer."

I echo her sigh and with a pat to her pretty butt, help her stand up. "I suppose I shouldn't. Especially since we've been fighting our attraction for three years."

She smacks me on the arm. "What have I told you about denying your attraction to someone, especially when that someone is your Soul Mate?"

I chuckle and rub at the spot where she hit me. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were my mother."

"Luckily for you I'm not." With her nose firmly in the air, she turns with a flounce and a huff, leading the way back to her booth.

Once there, she flips on the red light and leans one shoulder against the door jam. She bites her lip and gives me a look that at any other time would have me spinning her toward the wall so I can lift her skirt and fuck her brains out.

"Stop that, now." I tap the end of her nose with my finger. She pouts at me. "You're not making this easy for me."

She actually looks apologetic. "I'm sorry, Dean." She twirls the hair of one ponytail around her finger. "Carter's a lucky guy."

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out some cash and peel off several bills, then hand them to her. She counts them and raises startled eyes to mine. "I can't possibly. It's too much." She tries to give the money back.

I curl her fingers around the bills and pat her hand. "Just take it. You're red lighted for the next six weeks."

She smiles at the reminder. "I may not be able to feed a Vampire for six weeks but there are some who pay just for sex, ya know."

The cop in me doesn't like knowing about that but the law states that if the person paying for sex, or being paid for sex, is a Vampire, it's not illegal. Well, as long as the transaction takes place inside of a legal Vampire club.

"Surely there's something else you can do."

"What, now that you won't be coming to visit me anymore?" Her eyes sparkle and I have a suspicion she's fighting back tears despite her brave tone. "You had better bring him by so I can meet him."

"Yes, ma'am." I place a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I better go."

"Yes. Don't leave that man waiting any longer."

"Bye, Tracy," I whisper, kissing her one last time.

"Bye, Dean," she replies, just as softly.

As I turn away, I catch sight of a tear rolling slowly down her cheek. It's always a gamble, feeding regularly from the same Donor, because they sometimes develop deeper feelings than they should. Over the centuries I've had some women, and a few men, claim to be in love with me and it's never easy when I have to move on and ultimately break their heart.

I luck out on the return drive and hit every single green light and very little traffic.

When I arrive at the loft, I take the stairs two at a time, hitting the door to my apartment at a jog. As I cross the space, I begin undressing so that when I step around the glass brick wall into the bedroom area, I'm naked and ready to just slide into the bed.

My first glimpse of the bed is enough to make me smile. Carter is sprawled on his stomach in the middle of the bed, naked as the day he was born. The rhythm of his breathing tells me he's not asleep so I climb up onto the bed and between his spread legs.

"Hello," he murmurs, raising his hips to give me better access.

"Mm," I hum, placing biting little kisses across his shoulders. "Do I need to prep you?"

"No." He shivers when I take his right ear lobe between my teeth and bite down sharply.

"Good. I don't think I can wait long enough for that." Grabbing his ass cheeks in my hands, I spread the globes and press inside until I'm balls deep. I pause for a moment to give him a chance to become accustomed to the intrusion. Then I pull back slightly and press in, giving a tiny wiggle when I bottom out.

He grabs a pillow and stuffs it under his hips which gives me even greater access and changes the angle enough that I nail his prostate without even trying. Carter gasps and grabs fistfuls of the sheets, spreading his legs even further telling me without words that his body is mine to use as I wish.

I take him up on his offer. Pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with enough force to having him grunting each time my hips smack against his ass. Soon the room is full of the sounds of his panting and our flesh hitting.

He's so far gone, that it doesn't take long before he's tumbling over the edge with a scream that could be my name. His muscles clamping down on me is enough to have me following him into bliss.

I pull out as gently as I can and roll over to lie at his side. Turning my head, I laugh out loud when I see that he's already sound asleep. "Just like Adair. Unconscious within seconds of climaxing." With an open mouth kiss to his right shoulder, I snuggle down, close my eyes and follow him into slumber.