Chapter Two

Kierse sat. What else could she do?

Monsters were real. He was a monster. He was well within his rights to kill her for invading his home. If he wanted to talk, then she'd talk. He wasn't the first monster she had dealt with, and she was determined that he wouldn't be her last, either.

Monster rights were still a new thing. It had only been three years since the war had ended and the Treaty had been signed. Before that, she never would have imagined that monsters and humans could come to an accord.

The war had started when Coraline LeMort was murdered in cold blood. She was a vampire visionary who led the charge on ending the feud between vampires and werewolves, and she'd had the support of her own army to back her words up. When a rogue werewolf publicly murdered her, it was the spark that lit the world on fire. Her death brought all of the monsters out of hiding and started the Monster War. Vampires and werewolves became even more divided, and the other monsters chose sides.

It got so bad that monsters and humans alike were starving. Then the Coraline Convention was called. Delegations from each monster race as well as the United Nations agreed to end the killing and restore order. The result was the signing of the Monster Treaty. It put limitations on all monsters, made laws for humans and monsters to live in this world together, and ensured lasting peace for humankind. They even built a statue of Coraline in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art to commemorate the Treaty.

The world was finally beginning to recover from the decade-long reign of terror, but that didn't mean that every monster agreed with it.

And that didn't mean Kierse was going to survive this altercation.

"Now, let's start with your name," he said.

"Why don't we start with yours?"

"Surely you know the name of the man you are robbing." His smile said otherwise. As if he knew that she didn't know who he was. That he clearly wasn't the fake John Smith that owned the place.

"Man?"she asked.

"Your name," he repeated gruffly.

"Kierse," she spat out. "My name is Kierse."

"Is that short for Kirsten?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No," she snapped. "It's like Pierce but with a K."

"Ah." He hadn't taken a seat. He still stood a few feet away, lording over her with that impenetrable fire. "You may call me Graves."

"Graves?" she asked. "Like the thing you crawled out of?"

"Some do."

"You're not a human," she accused.

He stared straight through her. "No, I'm not."

She wanted to ask what kind of monster he was, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He clearly wanted her to ask. To find out what side of the Treaty he was on and whether or not he was going to kill her.

"You don't look like much," he finally said when she didn't give in.

She gritted her teeth. "Appearances can be deceiving."

He leveled her with an imperious gaze. "So, who are you?"

"You already know that: the person here to rob you."

"Ah, perhaps."

He slid his hand out of his pocket and produced the ring she had just risked her life to retrieve. She stared at it agog. How had he gotten it off of her? It had been secured in a secret inner pocket in the left side of her jacket, and he hadn't frisked her. He hadn't even gone looking for it. But she only let surprise show on her face for an instant before returning to her cocky, disinterested veneer.

"A lot of trouble for one ring," he said, twirling it between his fingers like he would a coin.

"If you say so."

"How did you get inside my home?" Graves asked, pocketing the ring once more.

She watched carefully as he put the ring back so that she knew where to retrieve it later. "Through the window."

"Which window?"

"The one in the study."

He pursed his lips and glanced away. As if he were contemplating the study very closely. No, almost as if he could see to the study beyond and retrace her steps. But of course, he couldn't do that. No monster she knew of had that ability.

"How did you get past the security system?"

She nearly barked in laughter. "It was turned off."

Graves's head whipped toward her. "It certainly was not."

"Maybe you should check it again, then."

"I'm the security," he all but growled.

"Then you're shit at it."

He smirked again. "Says the girl I apprehended with no effort."

"Woman," she bit back.

He conceded the point. "How old are you exactly?"

"Don't you know it's rude to ask?"

He just arched an eyebrow as if to say you agreed to answer my questions.

She blew out a breath. "Twenty-five. Not much younger than you."

"Appearances can be deceiving," he said, throwing her words back at her as he strode casually to a wet bar and poured himself a drink.

He brought the drink back over and offered it to her. Drinking with the enemy was a bad, bad idea. But either way, she couldn't take it. Not with her shoulder in this condition.

"Oh, my apologies." He looked smug as he said it.

He set the drink down. And then with reflexes she could hardly comprehend, he grasped her shoulder and knocked it back into place. No warning. Just perfect precision and a hard pop. She doubled over as pain lanced down her arm. She barely kept herself from crying out again.

"Better?"

She cleared her throat. "Can we just finish this interrogation?"

"Is that what we're doing?" He held the drink out to her again and, when she still refused to take it, knocked back half of it. "Interrogations used to be a lot more fun." Her eyes widened. What did that mean? "Fine. Who sent you?"

"I don't give out names," she told him. "I can't answer questions that are going to ruin my career."

He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. "Do you think that is the worst that will happen if you don't answer my questions?"

She swallowed. It was a threat. He'd probably kill her. He was capable of it. He could end her existence at his leisure. By the Monster Treaty terms, he'd even get away with it. The fact that he hadn't meant he needed something from her. Hence the line of questioning. She just didn't know what he needed.

She hated breaking her rules. She'd promised herself she'd never out a client. But if it was between her life and some dick billionaire who didn't care about her, self-preservation kicked in fast and hard.

"Gregory Amberdash."

Graves's eyebrows rose slightly. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "The wraith?" The ring magically reappeared in his hand. "Who is Amberdash working for?"

"That's above my paygrade."

He glanced back at her as if remembering that she was involved. "You will find out who he is working for."

Kierse huffed a laugh. "No, I won't. That wasn't part of our deal. And anyway, he'd never tell me. That's not how he works." She lifted herself off of the velvet chair in defiance of his other edict. She only wobbled slightly as she regained her balance. "I've answered your questions. I'm not going to do your dirty work. Ask Amberdash yourself."

Graves sighed and then shook his head once. He seemed frustrated that she wasn't groveling for her life and offering to do whatever he asked just because he hadn't killed her.

"You are going to make me do this the hard way, aren't you?"

"Just call the cops. We're on a first-name basis. Won't do a damn thing." There wasn't a jail in New York that could keep her locked away.

He grinned then. "I have no intention of alerting the authorities. My methods are much more... effective."

Her stomach twisted. "Your methods?"

Graves didn't respond. He just began to methodically remove his black gloves. He pulled each finger individually, slipping the material out of place before carefully tugging the leather forward. She caught a glimpse of the dark lines of a tattoo circling his wrists before he tugged the cuffs of his suit down. His hands were large, with long, slender fingers. She didn't know much about music, but the pianists she had seen in clubs had fingers just like that. Made to grace the keys and hypnotize a melody out of hidden strings. She had no idea why he covered them in gloves in his own home.

"Come here," he commanded with all the blunt force of a car crash.

But she refused to budge. She'd been on the receiving end of demanding men before in her life. She'd learned her lesson. She was no longer a sapling constantly moved by the next heavy breeze. She was a mountain, immovable.

He saw her defiance. The no that lingered in the air unsaid.

It infuriated him. This man—this monster—was used to incalculable respect. She could see it all over him. Power was the only way to test a person's character. She found him wanting.

He stepped forward then. Two quick strides that brought him directly before her. She tilted her head up to read the clouds roiling through those piercing gray eyes.

"Fine," he ground out.

He jerked the zipper of her jacket down, exposing her neck, and her heart sank. Fuck, he was a vampire—and about to drain her. She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she got a look at his surprised face. He was staring at her necklace with bald interest.

"A wren." His gaze swept back up to hers. A cruel smile curled on his lips. "Interesting."

"Why?" she asked, protective of the necklace that was her most prized possession. The only thing she had left of her parents.

He didn't answer. Just slowly, ever so slowly, brought his hand up and pressed the tip of his index finger to the spot right behind her ear. With the grace of a predator toying with its food, he dragged the finger softly down the pulse in her throat. She refused to shiver, though her heartbeat had skyrocketed at the barest touch. Her body came alive.

She'd spent her entire life hating vampires, but suddenly she understood how some humans volunteered to be fed from. She was in pain and abjectly frightened of what was to come, but she couldn't move if she had wanted to.

His finger reached the hollow opening between her collarbones and trailed back up again. Then he wrapped his entire hand around her throat, caging her there. He had command. He had all the power. She could see the hunger in his features.

She swallowed back her own confusion and desire and fits of anger. As if he could touch her like this. As if he had her permission. How dare he! Yet, she didn't move away. Her body thrummed in response. Like met like. Power met power.

He leaned forward. And for one sharp moment, she thought he meant to kiss her. But he stilled, staring deep into her eyes. He shook his head once. Something like surprise hit his features.

"What are you?" he whispered.