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do.
    Deliberately, he crowded her with his larger body, trapping her against the expensive leather of the seats. Immediately, she tried to slide away from him, but he wasn’t having that. Inexplicably, he wanted her—he needed her—just as close as he could get her. This close, he could taste the delicious heat and scent of her skin. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. No, what he wanted was to stroke his thumbs along the sweat-slicked line of her collarbone. Follow that feminine shadow with his tongue. His teeth.
    Christ. What was wrong with him? She was a weapon in his fight with Cuthah and making this personal was a disaster waiting to happen.
    “This is kidnapping,” she hissed up at him. “Kidnapping. Do you know what the penalty is for that?”
    “Ten years,” Nael tossed over the seat. Brother had a mistimed sense of humor, as always. “If you’re human. Your kind haven’t built prisons that can hold our kind, love. There’s no point in making useless threats.”
    “Is that true?” Her glare drilled into Zer as if he was honor-bound to tell her the truth. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten the memo that the Fallen were no longer members of the choir. “You think you’re above the law? That you don’t have to play by the same rules the rest of us play by?”
    He eyed her.
    “You want to kidnap me, feel free to try.”
    She was absurdly feminine, lying there sprawled on the seat. Her careful chignon was lopsided, sliding out of its pins. He reached out and pulled the last survivor free, ignoring her hands as she batted at him. The heavy locks spilled around her shoulders, all waves and gentle curves. He wanted to bury his fingers in those sweet strands, run them through his fingers.
    No. He didn’t want a lover—and he certainly didn’t want a vulnerable, fragile human lover. It didn’t matter that she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in months, startlingly alive and achingly vulnerable. Someone had to seduce her, coax her into falling in line with the plan. That someone could be him.
    His cock’s violent reaction warned him that his body was so on board with that plan. He’d been hard since he’d laid eyes on the professor.
    Not happening, though. He’d learned millennia ago, hadn’t he, that lovers made a male vulnerable? The minute he let her into his bed—the minute he saw her as anything but a tactical advantage, a pawn to be sacrificed in the game he was playing with Cuthah and the Archangel Michael—he knew what could happen. Once he’d sunk himself deep inside her, he might not remember that, in the end, she was a weapon. A game piece to be played.
    Forget about seeing her as a female—as a person. He’d learned three millennia ago, hadn’t he, that making emotional choices only ended in disaster.
    She wasn’t his. He had to remember that.
    He was going to play her in Cuthah’s damn chess game and nothing more.
    Still, the glare she shot at Nael should have frozen the brother in his tracks. Nael, of course, merely smiled, a slow, heated warning of a smile. If his Nessa wasn’t careful, Nael might be doing some claiming of his own.
    “No,” she said, and someone should have warned her that no one said no to the Fallen. “You stop this car,” she ordered, “and you let me out right now. This is ridiculous. This is the twenty-first century, not the Dark Ages. I don’t know where you get off, manhandling me like this, but you’re breaking a half dozen laws, and I’m going on record right now. Stop.”
    His cock hardened, thickened with pleasure at that feminine defiance. Someone should have warned her what happened when saucy females baited dominants.
    “No,” he repeated, his voice low and hard. “You don’t get to say no to me, baby.” Fuck the hands-off shit. It was time to engage.
    “Zer—” someone warned from the front seat. Nael. “Let me take care of this.” Leather rustled as his brother shifted. Beside him, Nessa froze.
    “No,” he said again.