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from under me. I clung to the back of the couch and bowed my head, hiding behind my hair.
    Lenorre gave a short laugh this time. "Your mouth forms words that say one thing, but your body and your pulse say another, Kassandra."
    I raised my face. "I think you're misinterpreting my physical reaction."
    "How so?"
    "I'm not excited, by any means, at the idea of you mind-fucking me, Lenorre."
    "Fair enough," she said. "However, you are excited by the thought of being bitten. I believe we have already garnered such knowledge."
    I held her gaze. "Yes."
    "Will you let me bite you?" she asked bluntly.
    "I don't know."
    Lenorre let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I do not understand what is truly so bad. What makes you so uncertain when it comes to sharing blood with me? What is in the way, Kassandra? You have shared during sex. You have bled me during sex. What is the issue?"
    "I don't want to be food."
    "You are my lover," she said, somewhat incredulously. "Zaphara is food. You are my lover. You are the one I want most to share blood with. Do you know how mutually pleasurable such a thing could be?"
    "I've upset you."
    Lenorre's dark eyelashes fluttered closed. "A little."
    "Why?"
    "You are withholding a piece of yourself from me to avoid getting too close. Are you that afraid I will hurt you? Do you distrust me so, even now?"
    I thought about denying her words, but I knew it was pointless. She was a vampire, and despite my job description, I'd never been much good at lying to the people I cared about. The best liars are the ones who are capable of convincing themselves of their lies. In this, I was too aware of myself to dissemble.
    "Damn it, Lenorre."
    "Damn it? You are not going to disagree or argue with me?"
    "That would be a lie and pointless, wouldn't it? I'm not trying to hurt you."
    "I know you are not trying to hurt me," she said. "But can you see how it would?"
    I stood there, watching her as she fell into that vampiric stillness. She had this uncanny ability to see past my walls, to force me to turn around and look at myself behind them. It was exciting and frightening. Exciting because she understood me. Frightening because the more she understood me, the more in love with her I fell.
    I sighed, breathing the word, "Yes."
    She took a step back. "We have a scene to look at for the police," she said. "When you are ready, Kassandra."
    It was obvious she wasn't referring to the fact that I needed to get dressed so we could go, but was referring to me opening up, letting down my guard, and giving that piece of myself to her.
    That's one thing the stories don't tell you, that sometimes, love, real love, is a scary bitch. Love will ask you to face the things within yourself you'd rather just ignore. And the catch is, in order to make a relationship work, you can't. You have to face your inner demons and fears head on, or they get bigger, nastier.
    Lenorre was asking me to face them. If I didn't, I risked hurting her.
    Sadly, I'd always been better at dealing with the monsters outside myself than the ones within me.
    At least the ones outside me I could shoot.

CHAPTER six
    found a pair of black boots I'd left at Lenorre's. The boots looked good with the dress slacks. Lenorre was wearing a white knee-length jacket that cinched at her waist. The onyx waist-length curls of her hair looked delicious against the white coat. I was wearing the same black pea coat I'd worn to the office. Between the two of us, the only splash of color other than black and white was Lenorre's wine-colored blouse.
    Arthur was right. The entire street was blocked off, and the red and blue police lights were a flashing beacon. I put the car in park, unbuckled my seat belt, and reached over Lenorre to open the glove compartment. I retrieved the spiffy new badge Arthur had given me, draped the lanyard over my neck, and pulled my hair out from under it.
    "We're going to get stopped by at least three police officers after getting past the tape."
    Lenorre gave me a