"To keep a war from breaking out."
She jumped to her feet. "Damn you. You want to save vampires, but you're willing to let innocent humans die?"
He stood. "'Tis no' like that. Believe me, when a war breaks out, vampires and humans both die. The carnage is great. You doona want to see it."
She clenched her fists. "So we do nothing? You just let the Malcontents kill humans whenever they like because you're afraid of a bloody war?"
"Nay, I have a plan."
She folded her arms, glowering at him.
He stepped toward her. "Emma, trust me."
With a huff, she sat. "This had better be good."
He sat on the center couch. "The Malcontents will only declare war if we kill one of their coven. We can still police the park and keep them from murdering innocents."
"So we catch them in the act and then… slap their wrists and let them go?"
"Actually, I thought we'd scare the hell out of them."
Her mouth twitched. "That's not too bad."
"I'm glad ye approve." He picked up his bottle and took a long drink.
"So how long have you been fighting the Malcontents?"
He sighed. "As long as I can remember. Their leader, Casimir, is the one who transformed Roman. He tried to force Roman to do evil things, but Roman escaped and began transforming Vamps like me. Eventually we had an army, and we marched on the Malcontents."
She stood. "You went to war with them?"
With a silent groan, he stood. Why couldn't she sit still longer than two minutes? "Aye.
'Twas the Great Vampire War of 1710. I was the general on our side."
Her mouth gaped. "Wicked. You killed a bunch of Malcontents?"
"Aye, I did." He removed his sporran since her gun inside was weighing heavily against his groin.
She gave him a curious look. "Why are you standing?"
He winced inwardly. "Because ye are."
"You're mimicking me?"
"Nay. 'Tis a… silly habit. I lived through several centuries where a man had to stand whenever a lady did."
She let out a short laugh. "You mean you're an old-fashioned gentleman?"
He scowled at her. "Ye mean ye never noticed?"
"A vampire gentleman?" She grinned. "That sounds like an oxymoron."
"I'm perfectly capable of being rude," he growled.
"I can believe that." She moved to the middle couch and flopped down.
With a sigh of relief, he sat.
"So I guess you started your company back in 1927? You're Angus the Third and Fourth and Alexander, too?"
"Aye." He bowed his head. "Angus Alexander MacKay, at yer service."
"Such a gentleman." Her mouth tilted up. "Did you ever let Angus the Third or Alexander go on vacation?"
"Now ye're just mocking me."
She grinned. "Which one of you was knighted?"
"I forget."
"Oh, right. I've heard that memory goes with age."
He arched a brow at her. "My memory is fine."
"Then you remember why you were knighted?"
"Aye."
She waited, then gave him an exasperated look. She scooted down the couch to be closer. "Why don't you tell me?"
"'Tis a government secret."
"I can keep a secret. I haven't told anyone about you."
"Ye're trying to keep yer job."
She made a face at him. "Come on. I won't tell."
"Ye'll swear by the official Angus oath?"
"What's that?"
"I doona know." He smiled. "I just made it up."
She laughed. "I'll swear, as long as there's no biting involved."
"No biting." His gaze meandered down her body. She was sitting very close to him now.
"I will never harm you."
Her smile faded. She glanced away. "I don't want to hurt you, either."
He swallowed hard. He didn't know if this friendship was good or bad. He enjoyed talking to her, but his hands itched to hold her. Just being in the same room with her was becoming torture.
She cleared her throat. "So why were you knighted?"
"Some Royal Air Force lads were shot down over occupied France. The Germans claimed they were all dead, but we suspected some had survived and were being held in secret and tortured."
She touched his arm. "How terrible."
"My mission was to teleport from a plane into enemy territory, locate the lads, and teleport them to safety. I erased their memories afterward."