Suddenly he grabbed her from behind, pulling her hard against his chest. His hands locked down on top of hers on the knife. She gasped. His breathing was fast and stirred the hair by her temple. His chest moved against her back with each breath he took.
He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. "Is this still enough for you?"
She shivered. "Let me go."
"Not only am I faster than ye, but I'm stronger." He forced her arms to bend. She resisted, her arms shaking with effort, but he soon had the knife up to her neck.
She swallowed hard. Normally, in this situation, she would stomp on the assailant's foot while doing a back jab into his ribs with her elbow. But she couldn't move her arms. He had her hands pinned beneath his.
"Ye see how easy it is, lass," he whispered in her ear.
"I won't let you kill me."
"Sweetheart, I only want to talk to ye." His breath wafted across her neck, causing little hairs to stand up.
"Don't you dare bite me!"
"Emma." His hands dropped. "Ye wound me."
She jumped away, turning to slash him with the knife. He dodged her attack, then yanked the knife from her hands and flung it to the side. It spun through the air with a whirring noise, then the blade embedded itself into a tree with a thud.
She grabbed the second stake from her belt and charged.
He seized her by the wrist and ripped the stake from her hand. "Sweetheart, 'tis difficult to have a wee chat if ye keep trying to kill me."
"There's nothing to talk about." She backed away, breathing heavily and rubbing her wrist.
"Och, did I hurt ye? I dinna mean to."
She snorted. "Like you care. You've been feeding off humans for years. How many people have you killed?"
He threw her stake far into the woods, then faced her, scowling. "I have killed more than I wish to remember, but I only kill in battle."
Like tonight. Her blood chilled. "If you have any honor, you'll give me a fair fight."
"Lass, ye've already decided I'm evil. Why would an evil man have any honor?"
He had her there. She swallowed hard. He hadn't even bothered to deny his evilness. She crouched in a defensive position, watching. Waiting. She ripped the third stake from her belt.
"Bugger," he muttered. He folded his arms across his broad chest, frowning. "Ye're a black belt in Tae Kwon Do?"
"You should know. You read my personnel file."
"Aye. Put away yer stake if ye want a fair fight." He glanced around, then pointed to his left. "We'll fight over there. The ground is softer for yer fall."
She huffed. "I'm not falling. You are."
"We'll see." He turned his back to her as he sauntered over to the area he'd chosen. Arrogant vampire. She wedged the stake under her belt, then charged. After a few running steps, she leaped into the air and caught him square in the back with a flying kick. "Aagh." It was like hitting a brick wall.
She landed on one foot and scrambled to a defensive pose. Meanwhile he merely stumbled forward one step. Damn him.
He turned with a smile. "An eager lass. I like that."
She snorted. "Typical vampire arrogance. It's your greatest weakness, and you're too arrogant to even know it."
He affected a wounded look. "Sweetheart, be fair. I was an arrogant bastard long before I became a vampire."
She was tempted to ask how old he was, but his personal history didn't matter. He was like all the others. An evil murderer. She assumed her favorite attack posture. "A fair fight. No cheating."
The corners of his mouth tilted up. "On my honor."
She attacked with a quick series of kicks and punches. He blocked each one.
She jumped back and prepared for another round. Damn, he was good. "Where did you train?"
"In Japan. I've been going there for lessons for the last two hundred years."
Her mouth fell open. Good heavens. The things he must have seen. "How old are you?"
"Five hundred and twenty-six years, if ye include my time as a mortal."
She gulped. He was a walking museum. He'd lived through the Renaissance, the Restoration, the Age of Enlightenment. He'd worn the clothes, walked the muddy streets, seen history unfold before him.
"Och, the stories I could tell ye," he whispered.
She stiffened. He'd read her personnel file. He knew she'd been a history major at the University of St. Andrew in Edinburgh. She'd been totally immersed in the mysteries of the past until that cold night when her parents' murder had snapped her into harsh reality. She'd put away the books and her dreams, and had changed her studies to law, martial arts, and firearms.