t swore briefly, though only to herself. They had never thought to
ask the supposedly-unChanged ones about their dreams, and they--or at
least she!--should have. It was stupid to think Change had to bring
about a visible change; she could only excuse herself by pleading the
press of other problems that had claimed her attention since Kins began
appearing. "Your desire to feed Kins is more than simple desire now,
Captain; I can tell that. It is a physical requirement." She turned to
her Chief of Detectives. "He needs you."

"But it's only been a day," Kaufman said.

The detective chief's heart wasn't in her objection; the Count nodded.
"The law will have to be changed to accommodate Captain Thompson and
the other . . ." What was a good word for them? They weren't Kins,
though they were of the--the Kindred, yes.

Thompson chuckled harshly. "Call me a Bloodmate, my Lady. I give
blood, and I damnsure feel like Enna's mate."

The Count nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Appropriate; very well. Care
for your Bloodmate, Enna."

Kaufman didn't have to be told twice; she took Thompson into her arms
and nuzzled his throat, breaking the skin to sip but not piercing his
carotid. Thompson relaxed, his irritable frustration easing, and he
felt his consort's satisfaction at that. There was far more to his
need than her gentle sipping; he was responding to her physically as
well, knew she felt it, and luxuriated in her answering caress. There
was no such thing, he realized dreamily, as a casual liaison between
Kin and Bloodmate; he was free to accept her love-making, as well as
her feeding.

"But not in a detention cell," Kaufman murmured against her Bloodmate's
throat. He might be too far gone to care, but she had no intention of
taking him on the floor, no matter how well padded it might be. She
picked him up, sensing the Count's approval, and carried him to the
duty officer's apartment.

Thompson was content to wait; for now, the promise of her delicate
fangs, the strength of the body he would nourish, were enough. She
would make love to him, and when he peaked, she would sate her fierce
hunger in their shared ecstasy. She would care for him, yes . . .

The Count watched them leave, pleased. She had hoped for an ex-E-Team
leader turned Kin as Liaison Officer, though she would have settled for
whatever benefit a team-full of Donors might bring; now she had
something beyond her most optimistic hopes. She would gi