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 give Kaufman and Thompson time for--she grinned to herself--a honeymoon. While they were indulging in each other, she would name the Kindred--Kins and Bloodmates alike--as the System's local nobility. And then she would designate the pair of them as Liaison. Thompson had lost his team, yes, but he had gained at least as much in the way of companionship and more in physical satisfaction; he would be fine. And what a team those two would make! END