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bitch.”
    “I promise.”  To Tabitha’s surprise, she found herself swept into another crushing hug. 
    “Be careful, girl.”
    With Cera and her employees gone, Tabitha pushed the kitchen doors closed and stripped off her shirt.  Blood still oozed from the wounds at her shoulder, thick and sluggish.  Normally she wasn’t a bleeder, so the wound must have been deep.  Only it didn’t hurt , not the way other wounds had.  It throbbed, yes, but more with awareness than actual pain.  Either way, the wound was gross.  And her shirt was ruined.  Plus, it was summer and she didn’t have a jacket to cover the stain.
    Sighing, she dropped the shirt into a sink and filled the basin with cold, soapy water.  Infusing her will into her hands, she scrubbed at the stain, demanding it to release.  Her fingers tingled, but whether from the magic or the frigid water, she didn’t know.  Still, whatever the key ingredients in that combination, it worked.  Her bright white shirt came out of the pink water without so much as a dark spot.  Her shoulder, on the other hand…
    No matter how she willed the blood to stop, or pushed at it with magic, the small, perfect marks still dripped their thick red bounty.  There wasn’t really any point in washing the shirt if the bleeding wouldn’t stop.  Tabitha groaned and tucked a towel around the wounds.
    “Great,” she muttered, picking up her wet shirt and immediately slinging it back to the counter in a soggy pile.
    “Is there a problem?” Russell’s voice filtered through the air and insinuated itself at the juncture of her thighs.  She resisted the urge to shriek with surprise, but could not suppress the shiver.
    “Not really.” She sighed.  “Only that I’m bleeding profusely and I can’t go collect my chafing dishes because my shirt is soaking wet.  Besides, going into a ballroom full of recently turned werewolves with an open wound probably isn’t the best idea.”
    “And that says nothing at all about you walking around my kitchen in nothing but your pants.”  His voice was full of innuendo…innuendo she did not have time for.  She was still wound up from his abrupt departure, and now he wanted to play?
    Oh hell no .
    “Well, I wouldn’t have to walk around half-naked if you hadn’t bitten me!” she shrieked.  “I can’t stop bleeding!”
    A low, deep rumble of laughter filled the silence following her outburst. Heavy footsteps moved across the floor toward her, but Tabitha refused to turn around.  If she looked at him, she’d be lost, and she was too busy being mad to fall for that again.
    “So the big problem here is a little bit of blood?”  His dark chuckle crawled up her spine and settled at the back of her neck.  “Well why didn’t you say so?”  Large, warm hands found her waist. Every cell in her body stood at attention as his breath puffed along her neck.  Tabitha whimpered and bit her lip to stifle the accompanying moan.  Even furious, she still wanted him to finish what he had started.  And finished.  And started again, damn him.
    Brushing her hair to one side, Russell pressed his lips to the soft patch of skin behind her ear.  Her breath rushed from her lungs on a hiss as his tongue darted out to trace the line of her shoulder.  Sharp needles of pain tore through the raw skin around the bite as his tongue rasped over it.
    She bit down hard on her lip to stifle the little sounds of pain as the sting intensified; then she moaned as it blissfully faded away.  A strange numbness descended over her skin, an intoxication of sorts, and Tabitha began to forget.  Where she was.  Whose arms she was in. Why she should collect her things and leave as fast as her legs would carry her.
    She leaned back into him, accepting his hands around her body while his tongue continued its hypnotic rhythm along her throat.  She found she didn’t care that she was standing shirtless in his kitchen anymore, or that all of his dinner guests were