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“That is not our hunger,” he said.

“Who is it?”

“She is the Dragon.” He spoke in my head, and there was urgency there.

“She made Primo,” I said, and it was only then that I realized I wasn’t talking out loud.

“She’s using him as a conduit for her own power.”

“How do we stop it?”

Byron suddenly drew back and thrust himself inside me again, and did something with his hips and legs at the same time. It blew my concentration all to hell, and all I could do was stare down at him. “A man likes to know he’s not boring a girl,” he said, but there was no smile to go with the light-hearted comment.

Jean-Claude echoed through my head. “We stop her as we did Moroven, by sending her something she does not understand.”

“Let me guess,” I said, and again it wasn’t aloud.

“Sex, or love, ma petite, what else is there for us?”

I don’t know what I would have said, because Byron rolled me. He rolled us over in a sudden amazingly fast, fluid movement, and never fell out of me, which is harder to do than it sounds. I was suddenly on the floor staring up at him, my hands on his shoulders as if I’d grabbed the nearest thing to prevent me from falling. He grinned at the surprised look on my face and said, “You’re not moving enough, luv, let me show you how it’s done.”

He did two quick thrusts that left me breathless, then he raised up on his hands like he was trying to do a bad push-up with his groin pressed tight against mine. His smile faded, and he frowned. “You’re bleeding, luv.”

I’d forgotten about my wrist again. I followed his glance and found that blood was seeping out from it. There was blood spattered across my blue top.

“Some gauze, please,” he said.

I think it took both Nathaniel and me a second to realize who he was talking about, and why. Nathaniel fumbled a package open and handed it to him. It was acutely uncomfortable to be trapped under the body of a strange man while Nathaniel knelt beside us. It was more embarrassing than having Richard watch with Damian. It just felt worse, as if I should apologize.

I think I would have done just that, but Byron pressed the gauze to my wounded wrist, pinning it to the floor. It hurt, sharp and immediate, and I was left gasping and staring up at his face. He pinned my other wrist, so that he was pressed above me, and I was very, very pinned.

I might have complained, but Jean-Claude roared through my head. “Ma petite, I need to feed. You are not moving fast enough with Byron.”

“You’re a big vampire, feed yourself,” I said, and that was out loud.

“Do you understand what you’re giving permission for, ma petite?”

“Tonight, yes, help me, Jean-Claude. Feed, for God’s sake, feed.”

Byron hesitated, poised above me. “Something wrong?”

“We’re not moving fast enough for him, apparently.”

A nearly evil grin crossed Byron’s face. “Oh, we can fix that, luver, we can fix that.” And he fixed it. He moved himself in and out of me in long writhing waves of his body. It was as if the thrust started at his shoulders and danced its way down his body until he thrust himself inside me. Once inside me, he did something with his hips that seemed almost to make him roll inside me. It was as if that writhing dancelike movement went all the way down his body and inside mine. It wasn’t fast, as in speed, but it was fast in other ways.

My breathing had sped up, and my body had figured out at what point in his writhing that he plunged inside me, so that my hips thrust upward to meet him. It began to be like a dance, except we were both flat on the floor, but when he realized that I wanted to move, he changed how his lower body pinned me, so that mostly only him sliding in and out of me pinned my lower body, and the rest of me was left to rise and fall against his body.

He kept my wrists pinned, and I kept thinking I should say something about that, but I kept forgetting, and I finally realized I didn’t want to say anything.

Another British voice came from behind us. “Jean-Claude said I was needed in here, but it looks