He had me there. So I accepted the glass, careful not to touch his fingers in the process. The delicate lemon and grapefruit notes teased my nostrils, making my taste buds water. I'd become something of a champagne freak since I'd begun hanging around with Quinn, and Bollinger, with its fresh flavor and teasing undernotes of fruit and coffee, was one of my favorites. I took a sip.

"There," I said. "I've upheld my end. Now answer the question."

He smiled again, and my stomach knotted in response. "Haven is one of the regulars here. He services my guests."

"So the vamps here are under your employ?"

"Not all of them, no. Haven wasn't, but this place was close to his cafe and handy for a nightly top-up." He took a sip of champagne, then sighed. It was a sound of sheer pleasure, and it curled around me as lovingly as a caress. "There is no sweeter taste than the nectar of the gods."

"Oh, I could think of one or two things that are better," I said, trying to keep it light. Trying to ignore the net of hunger that he seemed to be spinning around me. "Hazelnut coffee, for instance. I'd die without my daily dose of that."

"Good coffee is a must, although I'm not sure hazelnut could be classified as good." His heavy-lidded gaze met mine again, and something hot unfurled inside me. "Though I do agree that there are things in this life whose sweetness equals that of champagne. The juices of a woman in the throws of ecstasy, for example."

The words were barely out his mouth and I was imagining him between my legs, licking and teasing and savoring. I blinked and the image shattered, leaving me aching and hungry.

"Will you stop that?" I said sharply.

"Stop what?" he asked, the innocence in his voice at odds with the wicked smile teasing his lips and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Spinning the seduction web. I'm here to find a killer. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I weave no web. I merely enhance what is already there."

"You can't enhance it because it isn't there, so start concentrating on answers." My voice was sharp. "Otherwise I will arrest your ass and drag it down to the Directorate."

He merely shrugged. Which probably meant he'd tone it down but not give up. "What else do you wish to know?"

I crossed my legs and took another sip of champagne. The cool liquid didn't do a whole lot to ease the fires burning within.

"Why do you employ some vamps and not others? Don't you get enough vampires in here to cater to the needs of your human customers?"

"This club is not one of the more popular ones, but we still get plenty of humans in on the weekends." A small smile teased his lips, briefly drawing my gaze. "The vampires I don't employ are the ones I know I can trust not to go too far. There are fewer problems that way. The others help act as additional security should the need arise."

"So Haven has never acted as of your bouncers?"

"No."

"Then did he ever serve someone and perhaps go a little too far?"

The small smile became full blown, and my toes curled in response. Damn, that was one hot smile. "Despite the way my establishment looks, we run an orderly club. There are very few problems here."

I took another sip of champagne and decided Quinn really needed to get a case of this stuff. "That didn't answer my question."

"No, he has never caused any problems. He's actually been on vacation for the last couple of weeks. Tonight was supposed to be his first night back." He paused to take a drink. "I never knew they had pretty guardians. I find it quite refreshing."

"Considering most guardians are vampires who don't actually wash a lot, that's not really the compliment you think it is."

His expression became contrite, but I didn't believe it for a second. "It's very remiss of me to make such a remark, then. I shall endeavor to make it up to you."

"Don't bother. Do you know if Haven had any problems in his personal life?"

Starke raised his eyebrows. "Why would you think I'd know—or even care—about the intimate details of my friends' private lives?"

"Because you seem the type of vampire who likes to know these sorts of things."

"You could be right," He flashed me a smile that was as playful as it was sensual. "I could tell you two truths right now, in fact."

"Well, I'm not here to hear lies, Starke."

He put the glass down on the table then leaned forward, so that his long golden body was only inches from mine. Tension ran through me, yet I honestly couldn't say it was totally due to the readiness to fight. Part of it—a tiny, dark, and altogether stupid part—was sexual.

"I know, for instance," he continued, his voice as smooth as silk, "that if I took you in my arms and kissed you right now, you'd fight. Eventually. Yet there would be several moments beforehand when you would melt into that kiss and enjoy the passion of it."

I didn't bother refuting it. I couldn't when my heart was beating like crazy at the mere thought of that kiss.

"And the second truth?"

It came out somewhat breathless, and he reached forward, taking my free hand in his, turning it over and gently caressing my wrist. His skin was smooth against mine, his fingertips warm. And the caress…

The tremor that ran through me was all heated desire.

"The second truth," he said softly, raising my wrist to his lips and placing the gentlest of kisses on it, "is that this is not the first beheading to happen in this area."

I jerked my hand away, but his kiss seemed to have seared itself into my skin. My wrist burned.

"What do you mean, this is not the first beheading?" I surreptitiously glanced down at my wrist, but there was no mark on it, despite how it felt.

He leaned back in his chair and picked up his glass. "Just that."

I frowned. "We've had no reports of other incidents."

"No, because the sun was rising by the time he was discovered. His body was consumed by fire."

"Meaning he was a very young vampire."

"One would presume so. We older souls can take at least a few hours of sunshine."

If he could take a few hours, then he was at least five hundred years old. "When did this happen?"

"Two days ago."

"Do you happen to know the victim's name?"

If we had another murder, Jack would want me to check it out, even if we didn't have the body.

Starke shook his head and shifted his foot again. He must have surreptitiously moved his chair, because though I had my legs pointed away from him, he managed to run his toe up and down my calf. He might be wearing shiny leather shoes, but somehow it felt like skin on skin.

And that dark part of me wished it was.

"As I mentioned," he said softly, amusement playing around the corners of his delicious mouth again, "he was ashes by the time I got there."

That raised my eyebrows. "You went to the crime scene?"

"The man who reported it was a little on the inebriated side. I thought perhaps a customer had merely fallen down."

"So why not send one of your lackeys to investigate?"

"Employees," he corrected gently. "And we were full that night. I could not afford to take anyone away for even a few minutes. "

"So you don't personally service the blood whores?"

"No." He was still caressing my calf, and the movement, though gentle, was extremely erotic. "I prefer to take what I need the old fashioned way."

And he'd be damned good at it too, I thought, then pushed the thought away as his gaze met mine. He gave me a wicked smile.

Though he wasn't reading my thoughts—I would have known if he tried—I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Thank God the full moon wasn't near. I probably would have been all over him otherwise. My self control was barely hanging on as it was.