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God, but he wanted to taste her again.

He wanted to drink of her.

He wanted to take her.

Before he knew what he was doing, Dante stepped down off the curb and into the street. He could have been at her side in half a second, but something strange caught his eye.

He wasn’t the only male watching Tess with evident interest.

A human stood in the shelter of a building entrance just a few doors down, peering around the casement at the market in an attempt to not be seen as he observed Tess finishing up her shopping. He didn’t fit the stalker mold, with his tall, lean frame and college-boy good looks. Then again, neither had Ted Bundy.

Tess paid for her groceries and wished the old woman a good night. The instant she started to step away from the lighted awnings of the produce stand, the human carefully came out of his hiding place.

Dante seethed at the idea that Tess might meet with harm. He crossed the street in a blink, coming up on the human from behind and stalking within a few yards, ready to tear the man’s arms off if he so much as breathed on her.

“Hey, Doc,” the man called out, familiarity in his voice. “What’s up?”

Tess spun around, gave him a surprised little smile. “Ben, hi! What are you doing here?”

She knew him. Dante pulled back at once, easing off into the flow of pedestrians milling about the shops and restaurants.

“Didn’t you get my message at your place? I had business up here, and I thought maybe we could have dinner or something.”

Dante watched as the human went up and hugged her, then leaned down to give her a fond kiss on the cheek. The man’s adoration was obvious. More than adoration; Dante detected the sharp tang of possessiveness radiating off the human male.

“Are we still on for the dinner exhibit at the museum tomorrow night?” the man asked her.

“Yeah, sure.” Tess nodded, surrendering her tote when he reached to take the burden from her. “So, what should I wear to this thing, anyway?”

“Whatever you want. I know you’ll be gorgeous, Doc.”

Of course. Dante understood it now. This was the boyfriend Tess had called at the clinic last night. The one she had turned to out of terror for what Dante had done to her.

Jealousy curdled in his gut—jealousy he had no true right to feel.

But his blood said different. His veins were alive and burning. The part of him that was not human at all urged him to plow through the crowd and tell the female that she was his, and his alone. Whether she knew it or not. Whether or not either of them willed it.

But a saner part of him lashed a collar around that beast and dragged it back.

Forced it to heel.

He didn’t want a Breedmate. Never had, never would.

Dante watched Tess and her boyfriend stroll off ahead of him, their casual chatter all but lost amid other conversations and the general buzz of street noise swirling all around him. He hung back for a minute, blood pounding in his temples as well as other, lower regions of his anatomy.

Turning around, he loped off into the shadows, back to the building where he’d left Harvard on watch. He hoped like hell Gideon’s tip about Rogue activity there was going to prove solid—the sooner, the better—because right about now he was itching for a good, bloody fight.

CHAPTER Eight

The North End stakeout was a bust. There had indeed been a rave at the old, empty building, but the partygoers were just a lot of humans. Not a Rogue in sight, and no sign of any Darkhaven vampires, let alone any misguided Breed youths jacked up on Crimson. Maybe it should have come as a relief that the city was quiet for a few hours, but after a patrol that had netted zero action all night, Dante was a good long way from relieved. He was frustrated, tense, and in severe need of some chill.

The cure for that was simple enough. He knew of about a dozen places topside where he could find a willing female with juicy veins and a warm, welcoming pair of thighs, and after dropping Chase off at his Darkhaven residence, Dante drove to an after-hours nightclub and parked the Porsche at the curb. He dialed the compound on his