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C lub Fantasy was nearly as dead as the majority of its patrons when Tiffany strode through the front entrance. It was still too early in the evening for all the vamps to be wide-eyed and awake yet. They could survive sunlight, but they sure didn’t like it, and it left one hell of a skin rash. She made her way through the virtually empty club to where Caius normally held court each night, but he wasn’t there yet.

What was he doing before his club’s initial rush came in?

As Tiffany tried to puzzle that out, Janette, one of Caius’s regular Feeds, strolled by, her hips swaying side to side as her blood-red pumps floated across the carpeting. Tiffany tapped her shoulder. The bleached blonde spun around, her face so pale the contrast with her fire-engine red lips was almost frightening. A fresh pair of fang marks were visible just beneath her golden tresses, making her look more like the walking dead than a human. It was…startling, really.

Then again, for all intents and purposes she was the walking dead.

Unless she managed to get herself out of Caius’s clutches. It wouldn’t be much longer and the regular blood loss of being a Host would start to take its toll on her health, or worse, she’d be drained. Maybe made into a vamp.

Tiffany met Janette’s eyes. “Do you know where Caius is?”

Janette scanned her, sizing up how much of a threat Tiffany was to her own position in Caius’s bed. She must have thought the answer was “not much,” because she shrugged before she said, “He’s in his office.”

“Thanks,” Tiffany muttered. She brushed past the other woman and hightailed it toward the other side of the club, only to be met by Caius’s closed office door, which meant he either wanted privacy as he banged another helpless Host on top his desk or he was meeting with someone.

Tiffany glanced up and down the hall, ensuring she was alone, before she pressed her ear against the door.

Please don’t let me hear any hot and heavy moaning.

She could do without those mental images.

“Yes, I’m very pleased with how it’s been spreading.” Caius’s voice was muffled but clear enough she could make it through the door.

Her eyes widened.

Caius chuckled. “It’s becoming quite widespread in Seattle now. I think we’re off to a great start. It’s moving faster than I expected.”

A moment of silence passed. From the one-sided nature of the conversation, she realized he was on the phone.

“Absolutely not. I’ll ensure it continues here. No newly transitioned vampire will escape its reach. The hunters won’t know what hit them.”

Tiffany gaped as she backed away from the door. That son of a bitch. He was helping to spread the virus. Anger hit her like a kick to the gut. The cosmos really had it in for her today. First Damon, and now her brother’s killer was creating flesh-eating zombies.

Just. Friggin’. Peachy.

She cursed under her breath. She’d been foolish to run off. As much as she wanted to hate Damon for what he’d done to her brother, she needed his help to pull this off.

An empty feeling balled in her stomach. For a moment, as she’d lain in Damon’s arms last night, she’d actually thought she might not be alone anymore.

So much for that.

As quickly as she’d come, Tiffany rushed out the back entrance of the club, nearly jumping out of her skin and pulling her stake as she almost ran headfirst into Damon.

Their eyes locked, and a pained look crossed his face. “Tiffany.”

Despite everything he’d done, a shiver went down her spine, a familiar heat tingling between her legs. She hated herself for it, but somehow, her anger at him almost made her want him more .

Knowing who he was made her want him more.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, ignoring the fact that a minute ago she’d been hoping for his help. “Are you following me?”

He let out a sigh and stepped even closer. “I’m making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Get myself killed?” She stepped back. The hell with his help. “Look, just because I’m not a member of the Execution Underground and I don’t have your strength, that doesn’t mean I’m don’t have anything to contribute.” She moved to push past him.

But he reached out and caught her hand. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But I won’t let you out of my sight. I have to protect you. For Mark’s sake.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “For Mark’s sake?”

Who the hell was he kidding?

He winced, and she crossed her arms over her chest, hoping she’d hit him where it hurt.

“Tiffany, please.” He lowered his eyes to the ground. “Please, let me do this.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you. That’s why.”

A sharp pang hit her heart.

Maybe Mark would have wanted this. The two of them together, and her…

Happy. Well and truly happy. Whenever she was in his arms. For the first time in a long time. Maybe this was exactly what she needed to heal her broken heart.

Or maybe she was making excuses, trying to justify any connection so she’d no longer feel so alone.

Against her better judgment, she pulled away from Damon, slowly shaking her head as she started to walk down the alley.

To Damon’s credit, he didn’t follow her. His feet stayed firmly planted on the cold, wet ground. But it was his voice that stilled her. “I know you want to kill Caius as much as I do.”

She stopped in her tracks.

“And we both know you can’t do that without me.”

If looks could kill, Tiffany’s expression would have massacred an army.

Slowly, she spun to face him, her lips pursed tight and her amber eyes blazing. Her hands balled into fists, as she stared down the bridge of her nose at him, acting as if she were twice her size. He loved it when she was like this. Fierce and full of righteous fury.

It was sexy as all get out.

Despite the evening’s emotional turmoil, Damon was surprised he had to fight back a smile. He couldn’t help it. Facing off against Tiffany felt a little like having a Texas standoff with an angry kitten. But as innocent as she seemed, she was pissed, and that kitten had claws.

And she wasn’t about to let him forget it.

“Who says I need your help to kill Caius?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her weight shifting from the curve of one haughty hip to the other.

Damon bit back a pleased growl.

He knew exactly how delicious those hips could feel in his hands as he sheathed himself in her, how easy it would be for him to leave the mark of his fingers there from how hard she wanted him to take her, make her scream. He wasn’t prepared to give that up just yet.

Not without a fight.

Damon didn’t know what caused it, but something in the air between them shifted then, a silent emotional pivot. He may not be able to have her in his arms—yet—but he would have her in his bed again, have this. Whatever this playful banter was between them. Neither one of them could resist it. Maybe then, she’d realize what she meant to him.

Because he would fight like hell before he was ever willing to give her up.

When he didn’t answer her question with any expediency, she waved a hand in dismissal. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. I don’t need your help.” She turned then, sashaying down the alley’s corridor. Leaving him scrambling for what it would take to get her to stay.

The words were out of his mouth before he’d even fully considered them.

“You wanna bet on it, Shortcake?” he called after her.

She turned and lifted a brow one furious at him once more. “Excuse me?”

Damon threw his arms out to the side, gesturing to the alley around them. “You. Me. Right here. Take your shot.”

Maybe he was being foolish, but…he didn’t think he needed for her to forgive him after all. Maybe all he really needed was to be a haven for her fury. Maybe that’s all she’d ever needed him to be. When the letters stopped. When he’d hurt her without meaning.

Better him than a vampire who would truly hurt her.

Maybe he’d simply needed to fight for her from the start.

She gaped at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

Damon shrugged, uncharacteristically nonchalant. “You win, you can have your way and I’ll leave you be.”

She turned to face him fully then, clearly intrigued. “And if I don’t?”

A smirk crossed his lips. “Then we work together to kill Caius, you and me. But I call the shots.” He paused for a beat, watching as her mouth quirked a little, revealing that wasn’t too far off from what she actually wanted really. “And then you’re done fighting vamps. For me. For Mark. Until you’re trained at least.”

Her lips tightened, her expression going from one of intrigue to rage in an instant. “No, thanks.” She turned away from him once more.

But he’d counted on that.

“Why not?” he called down the alley after her, trying hard not to feel that familiar ache in his chest as she walked away. “Too scared you’ll lose?” he taunted.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her cheeks flushed with fury. “What did you say?” She glanced over her shoulder toward him.

Damon cast her a haughty smirk. “I said, are you too scared to lose, Shortcake?”

Her gaze raked over him, assessing him in from head to toe. “You’re baiting me,” she said, seeing straight through him.

“Am I?” He quirked a brow, slowly prowling his way toward her. “Is it working?” When they were no more than a foot apart, he circled behind her, dropping his voice low. “Tell me, Tiffany,” he whispered into her ear, “Are you tempted yet?”

Without warning, she threw a spinning roundhouse kick, aiming straight for his head, but at the last second, he ducked just out of her leg reach.

“So close, and yet, so far.” He grinned devilishly.

She growled, her frustration with him making her sloppy. Rounding on him once more, she threw another kick toward his head, but her stance was still too wide, too uneasy, and he blocked her once more, catching her leg in his hands.

He leaned in, bringing them nearly nose to nose, as he used his words to hit her right where it hurt. “If you ever expect to be anything more than Mark’s baby sister, you’re going to have to fight for it.” He knew it was wrong, but he’d do anything, say anything, if only it would get her to let go of all that hurt she was holding.

She growled, aiming a punch straight for his teeth, but he blocked her, snarling viciously.

“You want this, Tiffany. Then fight for it!”

She landed a blow straight to his nose then, blood gushing down his face and staining his teeth, but he didn’t pause for even a second. He had her up against the wall and pinned beneath him within seconds, her wrists captured in his hands.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked. “Let go of me, you—”

“You what? You asshole? Call me it again, Tiffany. Call me it a hundred times, hell more even, if that will get you to stay, get you to listen to me.”

“I hate you!” she shrieked. “I hate you!”

“I know.”

“And I want you.” She growled, surprising him, though she still fought against him.

“I know.” An appreciative smirk crossed his lips, even as she went still in his arms.

“And I missed you,” she breathed, almost quiet enough he didn’t hear it.

He let go of one of her wrists and she cupped his face in her hand then, tears running down her face. “I missed you, B.”

His gaze softened. “Me too, Shortcake.”

He kissed her then like he’d wanted to since that first night, like it’d been years that he was gone, instead of a few months, a handful of weeks, finally giving them the reunion, he’d always wanted with her from the moment he’d first drawn her near.

They stayed like that for a long time. Him pressing her against the alley wall. Her cradled in his arms. Neither of them wanting to resurface, until the sound of some drunken teenagers yelling profanities from two blocks over sent Tiffany reeling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re a mess,” she whispered, gripping his face in both hands and appraising where his blood had dried all over his face.

“So are you.” He grinned, snapping his teeth at her nose like he planned to nibble some of it off her.

She smiled then, before finally her set her on her feet again.

“Caius is the one spreading the virus,” she said, breaking the momentary silence.

Damon’s gaze swept over her.

“I don’t know how, but I overheard him speaking about it on the phone, talking about the virus spreading and saying that no new vampire would escape its reach.”

Damon stood in silence, calculating all their possible next move.

As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t just rush in and kill Caius. If he killed the bastard out in the open, all Caius’s loyal followers would swarm him, and even in the unlikely event that he survived, he’d be revealed as a hunter in two seconds flat, not just to the vamps alone, but to every supernatural in the city. He’d need to assemble his team before he was prepared to do that.

No, he needed to get Caius alone, somewhere he could take him out in private.

Then he could figure out how to deal with containing the vamp infection without Caius further aiding its progress.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Tiffany quickly beat him to it.

“You need to get Caius alone, but you’re never going to manage that unless I lead him to a secluded spot, and you rush in.”

Shaking his head, Damon kneaded the base of his neck to ease the tension. “That won’t work. What happens if he attacks you during your meeting? I won’t be there to save you.”

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take.” Tiffany let out a long breath and placed a hand on her hip. “The Execution Underground can equip you with pretty much any electronic device you need, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t think he liked where she was going with this.

A small smile curved her lips. “Have them make me a panic button. One I can keep somewhere Caius won’t see it. Then, if anything happens, I’ll hit it. You’ll have the receiver, and you can trail us, so you’ll be able to rush in if I need you.”

“I don’t know, Tiffany.”

Narrowing his eyes, Damon analyzed her expression. She couldn’t be cocky about this. But from the look on her face, she was serious, focused. Whatever anger she’d harbored, whatever emotion she’d kept simmering under the surface since he’d first found her in the club was abated, for now at least.

It killed him to agree to put her in harm’s way for even a moment, but he’d be right there to save her. He always would be.

“I’ll set up a meeting with Caius, and then we’ll go from there,” she said, already confident he would agree to her plan. “If all goes well, I’ll hit the button when I get him where we want him, danger or not. I’ll make sure it’s completely private. Somewhere safe.”

“And then no more hunting?” He lifted a brow.

“Not until I’m officially trained,” she agreed, before she cast him a wry smirk. “Though if you think I won’t do everything in my power to ensure the Execution Underground allows women to join their ranks someday, you’re a fool.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“So, we’re agreed?”

He gave a single nod.

She had to know he didn’t like it one bit, but they had no other choice.

Not with so many innocent lives at stake.

Whipping out her cell phone, Tiffany pressed the number two and then hit send.

“What are you doing?” He lifted a brow, but Tiffany simply waved a hand.

“Calling him. What else would I be doing?”

Damon buried his face in his hand. What in the world would he ever do with her? He sighed. “Tiffany Solow, only you would place an ancient vampire on speed dial.”