Kingsley was waiting for me outside Mulberry Street Restaurant in downtown Fullerton.

He looked dashing and massive, and I think my whole body sighed when he smiled at me. A big, toothy smile. Confident smile. Deep dimples in his cheeks. His ears even moved a little. The way a dog's might. He was wearing a scarf that matched his eyes and I think I might have mewed a little. Like a kitten.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, smiling even bigger.

"Hello, Mr. Observant," I said, grinning, and came to him. He wrapped a strong arm around my lower waist and pulled me into him, lifting me a little off my feet. I wasn't entirely sure he knew he had lifted me off my feet. One moment I was standing there, the next my heels were free of any gravitational pull.

He set me down again. "God, you smell good."

"For a dead girl?"

"You're very much alive."

"Well, that's good news."

He planted a big, wet kiss on my lips that I didn't want to end. At least, not for the next two or three hours. When we separated, I noticed an old man watching us. Hell, I would have watched us, too.

"You hungry?" asked Kingsley. I noticed his five o'clock shadow was looking more like a three-day growth. The surest indicator that a full moon was rising.

"Hungry enough to suck you dry," I said.

Now he shivered. "With talk like that, we might just skip dinner."

We were seated immediately at our favorite table near the front window. The waiters here knew my preferences and, after giving us one of their finest white wines - one of the few non-hemoglobic beverages I can enjoy - they brought us our meals. Salmon for Kingsley. Steak for me. Rare.

Very, very rare.

Rather than use a knife and fork, I used a spoon, and, as casually as I could, I dipped it into the warm blood that had pooled around the meat and brought it to my lips. I tried not to feel like the ghoul that I was.

Just a girl with her man, I told myself. A man, of course, who just so happened to be bigger than most men. And far hairier. Especially at this time of the month.

Kingsley, suffering from no such eating restrictions, went to work on the salmon. Although the defense attorney dressed immaculately, he ate like a pig. And, yeah, I was jealous as hell.

The waiter came by and filled my wine glass. Since I had taken precisely three sips, the filling part didn't take long. Kingsley ordered another beer, and when the waiter was gone, I said to him, "I found another medallion."

"Another what?" he mumbled around his salmon. Or, rather, I think he said.

"Medallion. You know, like the one before. But this one is inlaid with emerald roses, rather than ruby."

Kingsley's lips were shiny with grease. His impossibly full lips. His longish hair hung just below his collar. He was the picture of the maverick attorney, who just so happened to look like a ravenous wolf, too. "Tell me about it," he said.

And I did. I told him about the case I had taken on around Christmas, a case in which I had helped a sweet man find a family heirloom, of sorts. A sweet man who just so happened to be a hoarder, too. For payment, I was permitted to pick anything I wanted from his piles of junk. I had cheated. I had used my intuition to hone in on something particularly valuable, something that had lain hidden and mostly forgotten under piles of crap.

A box. With a medallion.

A medallion that was a near-exact replica of the one I had owned six months ago. And that medallion had contained powerful magicks. So powerful, in fact, that it had reversed vampirism.

"So the question is," I said. "Can this medallion do the same?"

During my recounting, Kingsley had finished his salmon and was now working on his cubed rosemary potatoes. The fork in his hand looked miniature. "Do you have the medallion with you now?" he asked.

I did. I showed it to him. Kingsley immediately frowned. A frown for Kingsley meant his bushy eyebrows came together to form one long incredibly bushy eyebrow. "You should have left it at home," he said, glancing around.

"And miss seeing your bushy eyebrows come together?"

"I'm serious, Sam. Stuff like this..." he lowered his voice. "You, of all people, know the lengths some people - "

"Or vampires."

His long eyebrow quivered. "Yes, Sam. Vampires. Some vampires will kill - "

"And kidnap."

"Yes, and kidnap for these things."

I set it on the table and mostly covered it with my hand. "And what is this thing? Another immortality reverser?"

Kingsley shook his head sharply. "No. There was only one of those made."

"And you know this how?"

"I know some things," he said.

"Because you've been around longer than me."

"A lot longer than you, Sam."

"Fine. So only one of those were made. Then what's this?" I moved my hand aside, revealing the shining medallion again. It caught the overhead chandelier light and returned a thousandfold, and the three emeralds within twinkled like green stars. Or like lime jello. Which so happened to be Anthony's and Tammy's favorite jello.

Kingsley glanced briefly at the medallion before reaching across the table and covering my hand with his own. Hell, he covered most of my wrist, too. And some of my napkin and plate. Big hands.

"I don't know yet," he said. "But I can tell you one thing."

"And what's that?"

"It's valuable as hell. Which means..." And his voice trailed off.

Unfortunately, I knew the ending to this sentence all too well. "Which means some people will kill for it."

"Some people," said Kingsley, "or some vampires."