His comment made her laugh, soft and breathy. Yes, she supposed there were plenty of intriguing things at the Cirque. Fae who turned bodies into flowers. Vampires that provided the bodies. Dragons and shifters and witches, oh my. But Zanna's thoughts needed to be on the man pressed against her, her attention needed to be dedicated to making sure that he wasn't more interested in draining her dry than in just playing with her.
He made it easy. With the zipper of her dress parting, she hummed for the feel of the wall cool against her back – and then the tease of the blade, even cooler against her skin. "Not yet," she breathed in response. "No time, still shiny and new..." Except for the tiny, shallow cut he'd made at her throat, at least, so small that it had already closed.