Mortals were so short-lived. So emotional. Their wounds were all recent and raw, whereas a Vamp had the luxury of centuries to cushion the blows.
Emma Wallace was the perfect example. Her whole life was focused on a passionate quest for revenge. But her life was so short. She should be enjoying it, not squandering it away on some creatures that would still be here a hundred years from now. He really needed to get through to her. And take away the rest of her stakes. He located her profile sheet from the Stake-Out folder and found her address and phone number.
"Hello?" Ian waved a hand to get Angus's attention. "Roman is waiting for you. He's at Romatech with Shanna."
"No' tonight." The fastest way to Emma's apartment would be to call her and use her voice to teleport. But would she be there after his silly remark about wearing something sexy?
"All right," Ian conceded. "I'll tell him ye're joining us tomorrow night for Mass. "
"For what?" Angus scowled at having his attention drawn away from the problem at hand. "Mass?"
"Aye. Father Andrew does a Mass for us Sunday nights at eleven. Roman had a room made into a chapel at Romatech. Then Shanna had the bright idea of offering free Fusion Cuisine afterward. We have about thirty Vamps showing up now."
Angus scoffed. "I doona need a priest praying for me. Unlike Roman, I'm verra happy being a vampire."
"So ye have no regrets?"
Angus shrugged. Every life had regrets, and his life had been longer than most. "I've always done what I thought was right at the time." And prayed that others didn't suffer for it. He glanced at Ian's permantly youthful face and winced inwardly. "I have made… mistakes."
"Then we'll see ye tomorrow."
Angus sighed. "Tell Roman I'll see him sometime tomorrow. I canna say when. I need to see Emma every night until I can convince her to stop her slaying."
"Connor thinks we should help, that ye shouldna handle this on yer own."
"He's wrong," Angus gritted the words out between clenched teeth while he glared at Ian.
"Right." Ian's innocent blue eyes widened. "Ye're the boss." He backed away toward the door. "Roman's going to want to know why ye canna come tonight."
Angus scowled at Emma's address on the profile sheet. "She has more stakes in her apartment."
"Ye're invading her home? Alone? She'll put up a hell of a fight, for certain. Let me come with you."
"Nay. I can handle her."
"She's murdered four vampires that we know of."
Angus stood. "I said I can handle her."
Ian hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. "Ye're no' immortal, Angus. None of us are."
Angus softened the scowl on his face. "I know. I'll be fine, lad. I'll see you when I get back."
Ian nodded. "All right." He left the room, calling back over his shoulder. "At least ye'll have the element of surprise."
Angus winced. No, he didn't. What a fool he was. And what a clever and feisty lass she was. She would probably have another trap ready for him. Blood rushed to his groin in anticipation. God help him, he was out of his mind.
Katya Miniskaya smiled politely as one of her Russian coven members entered her office. It was Boris, one of the whiners. Alek had informed her two months ago that Boris was complaining about her behind her back. Apparently he was upset that two of his whiny friends had suffered unfortunate, fatal accidents in her office.
She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. "How may I help you?"
His eyes lingered on her lace camisole too long before he sat. "Alek says you're offering a reward to whoever killed those mortals in Central Park."
"I am." She had suspected Boris was responsible. She'd also suspected he was stupid enough to fall for this bait. "Are you saying you killed one of those mortals?"
"Maybe." He lifted his chin with a challenging glare. "Maybe I killed all three. What's the reward?"
Katya stood slowly. She still had on her hunting clothes—a black lace camisole and a clingy skirt sliced up to her right hip. She wore nothing underneath. Dressed like this, she could usually scrounge up dinner in less than five minutes. Mortal men practically lined up to donate blood. She would feed from several, play with one or two if they were pretty enough, then send them away with their memories erased and an erection they couldn't explain.
She perched on the edge of the desk and crossed her legs so her right leg was exposed up to the hip. "What kind of reward would you like?"