Must be why the others didn’t sense him yet. Our house and guesthouse were on the highest point of this hill, deliberately less accessible to any passersby.
“Kitten, come with me,” Bones said, rising at last. “Fabian, tell the others to stay inside and talk as though nothing’s amiss.”
I finished strapping more silver knives to the sheaths lining my arms. Wooden stakes would’ve been cheaper, but those only worked in the movies. Then I threw a coat on, not for warmth against the frigid November evening but to conceal all my weapons.
“Ready,” I said, my fangs popping out of their own accord.
Ian snorted. “Appears as if Christmas has come early for you, Cat.”
I glowered at him, but the exhilaration coursing through me must be evident from my aura. I hadn’t wanted a knife-happy intruder to crash Bones’s birthday party, but it had been weeks since I’d indulged in a little ass-kicking. Who could blame me for wanting to show this vampire what happened to anyone coming around my house looking for trouble?
“Remember we need him alive, luv,” Bones said. His gaze flared emerald with his own form of predatory anticipation. “For now at least.”
FROST-COATED LEAVES CRUNCHED underneath my feet as I walked through the woods. My strappy heeled sandals were the worst choice of footwear for any normal person navigating these steep hills, but vampires had great reflexes and couldn’t catch cold, so I hadn’t bothered to change my shoes. Plus, if it made me look more vulnerable to whoever was prowling out here in the dark with me, so much the better.
Bones was somewhere flying above, but I didn’t see him, due to his clothing blending against the night sky, or him being too high up. I didn’t see Fabian or his ghostly girlfriend, either, but I knew they were out here, ready to notify our friends if our prowler turned out to have an entourage. We’d guarded the location of our Blue Ridge home from all but close friends and family, yet if one enemy had found us, others might have, too.
Twigs snapped about a hundred yards to my left. I didn’t jerk my head in that direction, but continued on my way as if I were out for a leisurely midnight stroll. I doubted our trespasser would fall for the act, but he had to be somewhat stupid or he wouldn’t have attacked Annette while Bones was within striking distance. No Master vampire worth their fangs would stand for that.
More crackling noises sounded, too close for me to pretend not to hear them anymore. I turned in that direction, widening my eyes as if I hadn’t already noticed the shadowy figure lurking behind the trees.
“Is someone there?” I called out, edging my tone with worry.
Laughter rolled across the cold night air. “You’d make a terrible horror-movie heroine. You neglected to hunch your shoulders, clutch your coat, and bite your bottom lip ever so tremulously.”
His accent was English, and his manner of speaking sounded more like Spade and Annette’s aristocratic dialect than Bones and Ian’s less formal vernacular. Shoulder-length blond hair caught the moonlight as he stepped out from behind the trees.
It wasn’t his looks that made me stare, though the vampire’s chiseled cheekbones and finely sculpted features reminded me of Bones’s flawless beauty. Or his height, and he had to be at least six two. It was his shirt. Lace spilled out from under his coat sleeves to almost cover his hands. More of that frothy white stuff gathered at his neck and hung midway down his chest. I almost forgot to scan him for weapons, it was so distracting.
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t help but blurt. “Because RuPaul would think twice before wearing that in public.”
His smile showed white teeth without any hint of fang. “A nod to my heritage. I drew the line at the tights, though, as you can see.”
He wore black jeans, so yes, far more modern than his top. The jeans also showed off the silver knife strapped to the vampire’s thigh, but aside from a long wooden walking stick, that was the only visible weapon he carried. Didn’t mean it was the only weapon he had; all my best stuff was hidden, too.
“Let me guess. You’re lost?”
I started to close the distance between us. Although he didn’t have a speck of blood on him, chances were I was looking at Annette’s attacker. His aura marked him as a couple hundred years old, but I wasn’t afraid. Unless he was cloaking his power, he wasn’t a Master, which meant I could wipe the floor with him.
The vampire appraised me in the same way I looked him over; thorough, assessing, and unafraid. All the while, that little smirk never left his face.
“Beautiful, aren’t you, though I don’t care for the short hair. You’d look lovelier with long, flowing red locks.”
Something about him seemed familiar, even though I was sure we’d never met. His cockiness would certainly make him memorable.