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humans. Yet now, cleanliness and the tools requisite to achieve it were essential for them.
    If he could get used to the speed with which this time moved, he might begin to enjoy its benefits.
    Toward the end of the day, when he’d finally finished all his tasks, he realized he hadn’t lost control or had to fight a rage once in the several hours he’d been away. The Lykae were prone to fits of temper—in fact, they spent many years of their lives learning to control it. Couple that tendency with what he’d been through, and he was shocked that he’d felt only a flare or two of anger. To quiet each one, he’d pictured the vampire sleeping up in his room, in what was now his bed. It was in his possession, to do with as he pleased. The knowledge of that alone helped brace him against his memories.
    In fact, now that his mind had cleared somewhat, he wanted to question her. Impatient to return, he considered the elevator. Certainly they’d existed when he’d last walked above ground, though back then they’d been an amenity for the indolent rich. They weren’t now, and using it was expected. He rode it to his floor.
    Inside the room, he removed his new jacket, then crossed to the bed to wait for sundown. He studied her at leisure, this creature he’d been deluded enough to mistake as his.
    Brushing aside her thick blond curls, he studied her fine-boned face, the high cheekbones and delicately pointed chin. He traced a finger over her pointed ear and it twitched under his touch.
    He’d never seen a being like her, and her fey appearance sharply separated her from the seething, towering male vampires with their red eyes. The ones he would exterminate one by one.
    And soon he’d be strong enough to do it.
    Frowning, he lifted the hand that rested on her chest. Examining it closely, he could barely see a smattering of scars across the back. The web of fine white lines looked like a burn scar, but it didn’t extend to her fingers or past her wrist.
    She’d been burned as though someone had seized her fingers and held only the back of her hand to a fire—or to the sunlight. And she’d been burned young, before she’d been frozen into her immortality. Typical vampire punishment, no doubt. Vile species.
    Before the fury engulfed him again, he allowed his gaze to settle on other parts of her, then dragged the cover from her. She didn’t protest, still soundly asleep.
    No, she was not what he had normally been attracted to, but the nightgown he dragged up past her navel and down to her waist revealed those small but plump and perfect breasts that had fit in his hands, and her hard nipples that had aroused him so last night.
    The back of one finger trailed across her tiny waist, then over the bunched silk and down to her blond sex. He had to admit he liked that and wanted to taste her there.
    He was a sick bastard to contemplate these thoughts about a vampire, to find one so attractive. But then, shouldn’t he be allowed some latitude? He hadn’t seen a Lykae female in nearly two centuries. That was the only reason why his mouth watered to kiss her.
    He knew it was nearing sunset. She’d wake soon. Why not wake her with the pleasure she’d forfeited the night before?
    When he spread her silky white thighs and settled between them, she moaned softly, though she still slept. Last night, she might have decided her fear or pride was stronger than her desire, but her body had wept for release. She’d needed to come.
    With that thought in his mind, he didn’t even attempt to start slowly, but fell upon her, ravenous. At his first taste, he groaned from the intense pleasure. He licked madly at her wetness, grinding his hips into the sheets. How could she feel so good to him? How could he be experiencing this much pleasure—as if she was truly the one he’d waited for?
    When her thighs tightened around him, he took her with his stiffened tongue, then suckled her small flesh. A glance up revealed that her nipples had