She gave him a frosty look. “When did you acquire the ability to speak more than one syllable at a time?”

He stepped closer. “Weapons?”

Her chin went up another notch. “Of course. I came well prepared.” She flipped back her cape to reveal her utility belt. “I have a sword, an assortment of knives and ninja stars, an automatic handgun with extra clips, and several hand grenades.”

“Hand grenades?” J.L. gave her an incredulous look. “Why would you want those?”

“They were on sale.” She gasped when Mikhail grabbed at her waist. “Unhand me, you brute!”

He wrenched a grenade off her utility belt, ripped out the pin, and tossed it into the forest.

“How dare you—” Her voice broke off when he pulled her against his chest as he twisted around.

A loud explosion boomed, followed by screams. He hunched over her as branches and leaves rained down on his head and shoulders.

Zoltan, J.L., and Jack drew their swords and rushed to the forest to destroy any survivors. He needed to go with them, but Pam was clinging to him, clutching handfuls of his black T-shirt in her fists.

She was in his arms at last.

Naked on a pile of furs. He shook his head. He couldn’t risk those thoughts right now. Too much lust, and his eyes would glow red. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, her face pressed against his chest. “What happened?” She lifted her head, and their eyes met.

Lavender blue. The color instantly sparked a surge of longing so intense he forgot to breathe. Time froze, and he was drowning as memories flooded his head, memories of love, joy, and everything that was beautiful in the world.

With a shake of his head, he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t fall into that trap again. The grief and guilt had nearly destroyed him.

“Oh, dear. Are you in pain? Were you injured?”

Yes, he was in pain, but it had been a slap in the face he sorely needed. He’d vowed centuries ago never to involve himself with another vain and selfish woman. The damage from the first one had ravaged his heart, and he could never allow himself to be that vulnerable again.

His mind made up, he opened his eyes. Unfortunately, with one look at her, he was instantly rocked by another wave of lust. It gripped him by the balls and squeezed tight. Damn, he wanted her bad.

Grasping her by the upper arms, he moved her back a few inches. “I’m fine. Release me, so I can help the others.”

She gave him a blank look, then gasped. “Oh! I didn’t realize.” She released her grip on his T-shirt. “Oh, dear, I’ve wrinkled your shirt. I do apologize.” She attempted to smooth out the wrinkles.

He gritted his teeth at the feel of her hands rubbing across his chest. Naked and wet on a pile of furs. His groin swelled. Not now, dammit!

Her hands stilled. “Are you wearing body armor beneath this shirt?” Her gaze lifted and locked with his once more.

His leather pants bulged. “No.”

“Oh.” She stepped back, her cheeks blushing. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t know a man could be so . . . hard.”

You have no idea. He turned away abruptly as his vision turned pink.

“Oh dear, I must have offended you,” she said in a rush. “Obviously, I don’t make a habit of feeling men’s chests. I don’t recall my late husband being so . . . well, he was much more refined. A viscount, actually.”

A candy ass. Mikhail willed his eyes to stop glowing, but it didn’t work. Prim and proper Pam would be shocked.

“I don’t believe we have been formally introduced,” she continued. “I am Lady—”

“I know who you are.” And why not shock her? Why not show her how he honestly felt? Was he such a coward that he intended to keep it a secret for another hundred years? He turned back to face her.

With a gasp, she stepped back.

She was tinted pink, along with her surroundings, a sure sign that his eyes were glowing red. There was no need to write a sonnet in her honor or woo her with fine gifts. No need to say a word. He could simply let the fire in his eyes blaze the message to her soul.

Yes, I want you. I lust for you. Deal with it.

He could hear her heart racing. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. For the first time in centuries, Lady Pamela Smythe-Worthing had been rendered speechless.

Chapter Two

“WE’RE DONE!” JACK ran up to them, followed by J.L. and Zoltan.

Mikhail turned away, so they wouldn’t see his eyes. He gazed at the forest while he attempted to force his vision back to normal. “I originally spotted about fifty.”

Pam gasped. “Fifty? Malcontents?”

Mikhail nodded. “Ready to attack.”

“I think the blast killed about half of them,” J.L. reported. “Most of the survivors teleported away, and we took care of the rest.”

“Oh, dear,” Pam whispered. “We were terribly outnumbered . . .”

“Any mission can suddenly become dangerous,” Zoltan told her. “It was ill-advised for you to come here.”

“I disagree,” she replied with a stronger voice. “You should be thankful I came here so well equipped.”

“Oh, yeah.” J.L. chuckled. “Thank God for the holy hand grenade of Antioch.”

“Actually, it came from Yorkshire,” Pam explained. “It’s amazing what you can find on e-Bay.”

“My lady, the Malcontents could return any second,” Zoltan insisted.

“I believe we are safe for the moment.” Mikhail turned to face her, his vision now back to normal. “They’ll think twice before risking another of milady’s hand grenades.”

She gave him a shy, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“So we have time for a few questions,” Mikhail continued. “How did you find out about our mission?”

Her smile withered. “Does it matter?”

“Yes. You’re not an employee at MacKay Security and Investigation, so you shouldn’t have known—”

“You mustn’t blame Lara,” she interrupted, turning to Jack. “She worries so much about you. I went to see her at your villa in Venice, and I encouraged her to call you, knowing that I could use your voice as a beacon.”

“How did you find out about our mission?” Mikhail repeated.

She fiddled with her glove and avoided looking at him. “It’s a rather long story—”

“Then make it short. Pam.”

That made her look at him again. Her eyes flashed. “That’s Lady Pamela to you—I mean VampWoman.”

His mouth curled up, and she turned away from him with a huff. “It all began when Maggie and Darcy went to Scotland to film Angus MacKay’s castle and interview Emma for their show, Real Housewives of the Vampire World.”

Jack groaned. “I can see where this is going.”

“Yes.” Pam frowned at him. “Your wife was quite devastated when you postponed your appearance on the show.”

“I told her I could do it after we destroyed this human-trafficking ring,” Jack mumbled.

“And that was six months ago.” Pam glowered. “Maggie and Darcy have been waiting forever. After they finished up in Scotland, they dropped by to see me and the old harem girls in London. They told us how frustrated they were, waiting for you to complete your mission in Albania, and that’s when I thought you might appreciate some help.”

“From you?” Mikhail asked dryly.

Her chin lifted. “You weren’t complaining when you needed one of my hand grenades.”

“We do appreciate your help,” Jack muttered. “But you should return home now.”

“I think not. We may have defeated some traffickers, but where, pray tell, are the humans?”

She made a good point. Mikhail scanned the area, wondering where the human captives were being held. Scarface had regained consciousness and was attempting to sit up. He flopped about, groaning, his lips bloodied and both eyes bruised and swelling.

Mikhail zoomed over, grabbed his shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “Where are the humans?” he asked in Albanian.

Scarface sneered. “Why should I tell you?”

He pulled back a fist.

“Wait!” Scarface gasped. “Don’t hit me again. There’s a road through there.” He waved at the forest behind them, then teleported away.

Mikhail drew his sword. “Let’s go.”

They ran through the forest. With his longer legs, Mikhail could have easily outdistanced his companions, but he held back, making sure Pam remained safe. You fool, it’s happening already, an inner voice chided him. He was becoming vulnerable. Over another vain and selfish woman. He shoved those thoughts away.

After half a mile, they emerged on a dirt road, where a dented and rusty old camper truck was parked. Mikhail quickly circled the truck. No Malcontents in sight. He returned to the back door, where Jack was hacking at the chained padlock with his sword.

“I’ll do it.” Mikhail smashed through the chains with his battle-axe, then opened the door.

They were greeted by a dozen pair of terrified eyes. The girls, tied up and gagged, attempted to squirm farther back into the filthy recesses of the camper. Mikhail guessed their ages to be somewhere between twelve and twenty. More years than his daughter had lived. He pushed that errant thought aside. At least he hadn’t failed these.

He climbed into the camper, and the girls cowered on the floor, whimpering behind their gags.

“You’re frightening them.” Pam quickly followed him into the camper, then knelt in front of the girls. “You poor dears, there is no need to be afraid. We have come to rescue you and deliver you safely home.”

“My lady,” Zoltan whispered to her. “These are humans. We should leave them to the human authorities. I’ll call the local police—”

“And what?” Pam looked up at him, aghast. “Make them endure hours of questioning when we could easily take them home to their families? Haven’t they suffered enough?”

“Our first imperative is always to keep our existence a secret,” Zoltan whispered. “If we teleport them—

“They have bite marks,” Mikhail interrupted, motioning at the girls. “The Malcontents were feeding off them. They already know about vampires. We should teleport them home, then wipe their memories.”

“I agree.” Pam gave him a grateful smile that made his heart squeeze in his chest.

He ignored it and moved closer to the girls, who were huddled together, trembling.

“There, there.” Pam patted a girl on the shoulder. “I know he looks like a huge brute, but he won’t harm you.”

A huge brute? Mikhail winced inwardly. Even so, it seemed like a good thing that Pam was here. Her presence was comforting the girls. They had grown quiet, the terror on their faces melting into hope.

He leaned over one of the girls, and, using his psychic power, he delved into her mind to locate her home. Then he grasped her arm and teleported her back. With a happy squeal, she turned to thank him. He removed her gag and ropes while he wiped her memory of the last few days. When her face turned blank, he teleported back to the camper truck.

With all five of them working, it took only a few minutes to return the captives to their homes. After delivering a third girl, Mikhail reappeared at the camper to find it empty. He sauntered around the truck, making sure no Malcontents had returned. As he approached the back, Pam materialized.

She glanced into the camper, then, with a satisfied smile, turned away. “Not bad for your first night,” she murmured to herself, then peeled the spandex cap off her head. Her blond hair slipped free, and she shook it out, the golden tresses falling in waves around her shoulders.

Good God, she is beautiful. He must have made some kind of noise, for she spun around to face him.

“Oh, you—you’ve returned.” She glanced around. “The others haven’t made it back yet.” She winced. “I’m sure you already know that.”

“Yes.” He stepped toward her.

She brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “The cap was rather hot. Stifling, actually. I might have to reconsider my costume design.”

He raked his eyes down to her boots, then back up to her breasts. “It looks good to me.”

“Do you mind?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re ogling my chest.”

“There’s a red mark there. It draws a person’s attention.”

She gritted her teeth. “That’s a ‘V.’ It stands for—”

“Voluptuous?”

She scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Viscountess?”

She winced. “No. VampWoman.”

“I would never have guessed.”

She gave him a dry look. “You may mock me, but I much prefer my new identity.”

“What was wrong with your old one?”

She ducked her chin and fiddled with her gloves. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

He stepped closer. “Why are you doing this? Why are you risking yourself?”

A pained look crossed her face. “I’d rather not—”

“What was wrong with Lady Pamela? I always thought she was beautiful.”

“No!” She glanced up. “She’s . . .”

“She’s what?”

“She’s . . . shameful.” Her eyes glistened with tears, and she turned away.

His breath caught. She didn’t sound as vain as he had expected. “Why do you say that?”

She sighed. “So many reasons. First, I married a vampire without realizing it. There were rumors about Maximilian. Plenty of clues. I never saw him eat, never saw him during the day. But like a fool, I ignored it all. I was too enamored with the notion that a viscount could love me and want to marry me.”