double line of candles that led from the hedges to the front door. Despite the late-summer breeze that stirred the night air the flames stood at stiff attention, not so much as flickering.
He grimaced.
Madre Dios. He hated magic.
âYouâre certain itâs safe?â
âIt should be so long as you remain between the candles.â
âAnd the house?â
She patted her neatly coiffed hair. âThereâs nothing we can detect inside, but I canât make any guarantees.â
Santiago pulled the sword from the leather sheath. âFan-fucking-tastic.â
The woman paled, taking a hasty step backward. As if the shiny sword was more dangerous than his massive fangs, or his claws that could rip through steel.
âYou should also know that the barrier weâve formed will only last until the candles burn down,â she said in a trembling voice. âYou wonât have more than an hour.â
âMagic,â he muttered.
Ignoring the females who scurried out of his way, Santiago forced his reluctant feet to carry him past the hedge and onto the narrow pathway. He refused to hesitate as he moved forward, climbing the steps to the wraparound porch and pulling open the heavy oak door.
If he was going to be skewered by some nasty spell, tiptoeing around wasnât going to help.
Of course, it wasnât until he had the door shut and he was standing inside the large living room with white plaster walls and open beamed ceiling that he managed to loosen his death grip on the sword.
He didnât fear death in battle. But the thought of being struck down by some unnatural force was enough to give any vampire nightmares.
With a disgusted shake of his head, Santiago turned his attention to his surroundings.
He had no interest in the rustic furniture upholstered in blue-and-white-checked linen, or the hand-carved banister that led to the second floor. Instead he moved directly to the heavy rolltop desk to sort through the various drawers.
Most of the papers were indecipherable scratchings, reminding Santiago that Caine had been a notable chemist before his transformation. A fact that was reinforced by the leather-bound books that lined the towering bookshelves. Only a scientist could appreciate Stratospheric Sink for Chlorofluoromethane or Introduction to Quantum Mechanics.
Finding nothing that might hint at where he could find the missing Weres, and more importantly, discovering no sign of any intruders, Santiago made his way through the spotless kitchen and up the staircase. Although the scent of the couple was spread throughout the house, his senses were acute enough to pick out their last trail.
He cautiously moved down the hallway to a large bedroom with a heavy, walnut bed that had been carved by wood sprites and walls painted a soft shade of ivory. He halted in the center of the hardwood floor.
Here.
In this precise spot the two had disappeared.
Santiago crouched down to inspect the floor, searching for any indications of a struggle. His fingers had barely touched the wood when he felt a burst of frigid power and he was surging to his feet.
Vampire.
And close.
Spinning around with a low growl, he had his sword poised for a death blow, only to hesitate at the sight of the female framed in the doorway.
Dios.
She was ... magnificent.
Despite working in a vampire club that was renowned for offering the worldâs most beautiful demons as entertainment, he was struck speechless.
She was tall and lithe, with dark hair that fell to her waist. Her face was a perfect, pale oval with eyes as dark as ebony and elegantly carved features. Her lips were full and tinted the color of cherries, and just looking at them made Santiago as hard as granite.
His bemused gaze skimmed lower, taking in the dark robes that draped over her full breasts and the ancient gold medallion that was hung around her neck. Farther down, the folds of the silk hinted at long legs and offered a glimpse of
He grimaced.
Madre Dios. He hated magic.
âYouâre certain itâs safe?â
âIt should be so long as you remain between the candles.â
âAnd the house?â
She patted her neatly coiffed hair. âThereâs nothing we can detect inside, but I canât make any guarantees.â
Santiago pulled the sword from the leather sheath. âFan-fucking-tastic.â
The woman paled, taking a hasty step backward. As if the shiny sword was more dangerous than his massive fangs, or his claws that could rip through steel.
âYou should also know that the barrier weâve formed will only last until the candles burn down,â she said in a trembling voice. âYou wonât have more than an hour.â
âMagic,â he muttered.
Ignoring the females who scurried out of his way, Santiago forced his reluctant feet to carry him past the hedge and onto the narrow pathway. He refused to hesitate as he moved forward, climbing the steps to the wraparound porch and pulling open the heavy oak door.
If he was going to be skewered by some nasty spell, tiptoeing around wasnât going to help.
Of course, it wasnât until he had the door shut and he was standing inside the large living room with white plaster walls and open beamed ceiling that he managed to loosen his death grip on the sword.
He didnât fear death in battle. But the thought of being struck down by some unnatural force was enough to give any vampire nightmares.
With a disgusted shake of his head, Santiago turned his attention to his surroundings.
He had no interest in the rustic furniture upholstered in blue-and-white-checked linen, or the hand-carved banister that led to the second floor. Instead he moved directly to the heavy rolltop desk to sort through the various drawers.
Most of the papers were indecipherable scratchings, reminding Santiago that Caine had been a notable chemist before his transformation. A fact that was reinforced by the leather-bound books that lined the towering bookshelves. Only a scientist could appreciate Stratospheric Sink for Chlorofluoromethane or Introduction to Quantum Mechanics.
Finding nothing that might hint at where he could find the missing Weres, and more importantly, discovering no sign of any intruders, Santiago made his way through the spotless kitchen and up the staircase. Although the scent of the couple was spread throughout the house, his senses were acute enough to pick out their last trail.
He cautiously moved down the hallway to a large bedroom with a heavy, walnut bed that had been carved by wood sprites and walls painted a soft shade of ivory. He halted in the center of the hardwood floor.
Here.
In this precise spot the two had disappeared.
Santiago crouched down to inspect the floor, searching for any indications of a struggle. His fingers had barely touched the wood when he felt a burst of frigid power and he was surging to his feet.
Vampire.
And close.
Spinning around with a low growl, he had his sword poised for a death blow, only to hesitate at the sight of the female framed in the doorway.
Dios.
She was ... magnificent.
Despite working in a vampire club that was renowned for offering the worldâs most beautiful demons as entertainment, he was struck speechless.
She was tall and lithe, with dark hair that fell to her waist. Her face was a perfect, pale oval with eyes as dark as ebony and elegantly carved features. Her lips were full and tinted the color of cherries, and just looking at them made Santiago as hard as granite.
His bemused gaze skimmed lower, taking in the dark robes that draped over her full breasts and the ancient gold medallion that was hung around her neck. Farther down, the folds of the silk hinted at long legs and offered a glimpse of
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