He frowned, dark brows drawing closer together. "You are being difficult."
"You better believe it." She fumbled in her purse and whipped out her.32-caliber Beretta Tomcat.
"Surprise, sucker."
No shock or fear registered on his rugged face, only a slight hint of irritation. "Madam, the weapon is unnecessary."
Oh, the safety catch. With trembling fingers, she switched it off, then pointed the gun back at his broad chest. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed her lack of expertise. She widened her stance and used both hands like she'd seen on cop shows. "I've got a full clip with your name on it, scumbag. You're going down."
Something sparked in his eyes. It should have been fear, but she could have sworn it was amusement. He stepped toward her. "Drop the gun, please. And the dramatics."
"No!" She gave him her best and meanest glare. "I'll shoot. I'll kill you."
"Easier said than done." He took another step toward her.
She raised the gun an inch. "I mean it. I don't care how incredibly handsome you are. I'll splatter you all over the room."
His dark brows rose. Now he looked surprised. Slowly, he inspected her once more, his eyes darkening to the color of hot, molten gold.
"Stop looking at me like that." Her hands trembled.
He stepped toward her again. "I will not harm you. I need your help." He lowered the handkerchief from his mouth. Red splotches stained the white cotton. Blood.
Shanna gasped. Her hands lowered. Her stomach lurched. "You … you're bleeding."
"Put the gun down before you shoot yourself in the foot."
"No." She raised the Beretta again, and tried not to think about blood. After all, if she shot him, there'd be plenty more.
"I need your help. I lost a tooth."
"You-you're a customer?"
"Yes. Can you help me?"
"Oh, Sheesh." She dropped her gun into her purse. "Sorry about this."
"You don't normally greet your customers at gunpoint?" His eyes twinkled with more amusement. Oh, God, he was gorgeous. Just her luck that the perfect man would waltz into her life two minutes before her death. "Look, they'll be here any second. You'd better get out of here. Fast."
His eyes narrowed. "You're in trouble?"
"Yes. And if they catch you here, they'll kill you, too. Come on." She grabbed her purse. "Let's go out the back."
"You are concerned for me?"
She glanced back. He was still hovering by the desk. "Of course. I hate to see innocent people killed."
"I am not what you would call innocent."
She snorted. "Did you come here to kill me?"
"No."
"Innocent enough for me. Come on." She headed across the examining room.
"Is there another clinic where you can help me with my tooth?"
She turned and caught her breath. He was right behind her, though she hadn't heard him move.
"How did you-"
He opened his hand, palm up. "This is my tooth."
She flinched. A few drops of blood had pooled in his palm, but with effort, she managed to focus on the tooth. "What? Is this some sort of sick joke? That's not a human tooth."
His mouth tightened. "It is my tooth. I need you to put it back in."
"No way am I implanting an animal tooth in your mouth. That's just sick. That … that thing's from a dog. Or a wolf."
His nostrils flared, and he seemed to grow three inches. His fingers curled around the tooth, forming a fist. "How dare you, madam. I am not a werewolf."
She blinked. Okay, he was weird. A little psycho, maybe. Unless … "Oh, I get it. Tommy put you up to this."
"I don't know a Tommy."
"Then who-" Shanna was interrupted by the sound of cars screeching to a halt outside the clinic.
Was it the police? Please, God, let it be the police. She edged toward the office door and peeked out. No siren, no flashing lights. Heavy footsteps pounded on the sidewalk.
Her skin crept with cold sweat. She hugged her purse to her chest. "They're here."
The psycho customer wrapped his wolf tooth in the white handkerchief and stuffed it into a pocket.
"Who are they?"
"People who want to kill me." She ran through the examining room to the back door.
"Are you that bad of a dentist?"
"No." She flipped the deadbolt locks with trembling fingers.
"Did you do something wrong?"
"No, I saw something I shouldn't have. And so will you, if you don't get out of here." She grabbed his arm to push him out the back door. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. He quickly wiped it with his hand, but it left a red smudge along his chiseled jaw.
There had been so much blood. So many lifeless faces, coated with blood. And poor Karen. The blood had pooled in her mouth, choking her last words.
"Oh God." Shanna's knees wobbled. Her vision blurred. Not now. Not when she needed to run.
The psycho customer grabbed her. "Are you all right?"
She looked at his hand, firmly gripping her upper arm. A red smear stained her white lab coat.
Blood. Her eyes flickered shut as she sagged against him. Her purse tumbled to the floor.
He lifted her in his arms.
"No." She was fainting away. She couldn't let this happen. With one last feeble attempt, she opened her eyes.
His face was close. The world was fading away, and still he studied her, his eyes slowly starting to glow.
His eyes were red. Red like blood.
Dead, she would soon be dead. Like Karen. "Save yourself. Please," she whispered. Then all went black.
Unbelievable. If Roman didn't know better, he'd swear she wasn't mortal. In more than five hundred years, he had never met a mortal who could resist his mind control. He'd never met a mortal who wanted to save him instead of kill him. God's blood, she even believed he was innocent. And incredibly handsome-those had been her words.
But she was mortal. Her body felt warm and soft in his arms. He dipped his head lower and inhaled deeply through his nose. The rich aroma of fresh, human blood filled his senses. Type A Positive.
His favorite. His grip tightened. His groin swelled. She was so vulnerable in his arms, her head dropped back to expose her virginal white neck. And damn if the rest of her didn't look just as tasty.
As much as he craved her body, her mind intrigued him even more. How the hell had she managed to block his mind control? Every time he'd attempted it, she'd slapped it back in his face. The struggle of minds hadn't angered him, though. Quite the contrary. He had still managed to read a few of her thoughts. Apparently she was frightened by the sight of blood. And her last thought before fainting had been about death.
But she was very much alive. She shimmered with heat and vitality, pulsed with vibrant life, and even unconscious, she was giving him one hell of an erection. God's blood. What was he going to do with her?
His extra-sensitive hearing caught the sound of male voices on the front sidewalk.
"Shanna! Don't make this hard on yourself. Let us in."
Shanna? He noted her fair skin, pink mouth, and light sprinkling of freckles across her pert nose. The name suited her. Her soft, brown hair looked dyed. Interesting. Why would a lovely young woman hide her true hair color? One thing was certain. VANNA was a poor substitute for the real thing.
"That's it, bitch! We're coming in." Something crashed through the front of the clinic, splintering glass. The mini-blinds rattled.
God's blood. These men truly meant to hurt her. What could she have done? He seriously doubted she was some kind of criminal. She'd been too inept with her revolver. And too trusting of him. In fact, she seemed more worried about his safety than her own. Her last words had begged him to save himself. Not her.
The sanest course of action would be to drop her and run. After all, there were other dentists out there, and he rarely involved himself in the mortal world.
He looked down at her face. Save yourself. Please.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave her to die. She was … different. Something in his gut, an instinct that had rested dormant for centuries, flared within him, and he knew. He was cradling a rare treasure in his arms.
More glass shattered in the front office. God's blood. He'd have to move fast. Luckily for him, that wasn't a problem. He hefted her over one shoulder and grabbed her strange handbag with pictures of Marilyn Monroe printed on each side. He cracked open the back door and peered outside.
The buildings across the street were jammed together with metal fire escapes zigzagging up the walls. Most of the businesses were closed. Only a restaurant on the corner was still lit up. Cars dashed along the busier street, but this side street was quiet. Parked cars lined both sides. His extrasharp senses detected life. Two men behind the parked car across the street. He couldn't see them, but he felt their presence, smelled the blood pumping through their veins.
In an instant, he pushed the door open and swooshed to the end of the block. As he zoomed around the corner, he saw the two mortals just starting to react. They ran toward the open door, their pistols drawn. Roman had moved so fast, they hadn't even seen him. He rounded another corner to the street in front of the clinic. There he hid behind a parked delivery van and watched the scene unfold.
Three black sedans blocked the street. Three, no, four men were there-two acting as sentries while the other two smashed their way through the glass storefront. Bloody hell. Who were these men who wanted Shanna dead?