“The man dabbed briefly at his lip with his bloody sleeve end and then cocked back his head and laughed. The sound was sharp and joyless and desperate.”

“His lips made a grim twist that was like the joyless cousin of a smile.”

“Man was made to lead with his chin; he is worth knowing only with his guard down, his head up and his heart rampant on his sleeve.”

“He can be pretty charming and charismatic. Still, he’s not a well man.”The newcomers all burst out laughing. Callum scowled at her a moment before dropping his head back and saying to the ceiling, “Bloody hell.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” I asked.He dabbed his tongue to his lip again. “Not everything.”“Like what?”“You.”

“Startled, he loosed his grasp and she pulled free. He clutched her arm, but she spun around and pressed her mouth to his. His lips were rough, chapped. She felt the sting of fangs against her bottom lip. He made a sharp sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. Mouth opening under hers. The smell of him- of cold, damp stone- made her head swim. One kiss slid into another and it was perfect, was exactly right, was real.”