Excerpt from Huntress for Hire:

Her heart began beating double time and another icy shiver rippled down Rachael’s spine as she stared into the darkness where the male voice had originated. If he was a vampire, he would hear her panicked heart, just as she heard her blood rushing in her ears. She tried to see what it was he held or wore that had so effectively lured her here.

She could see nothing in the ebony void, and the words he spoke again sifted through her brain. You won’t ever get to Piaras without my help.

Had he heard Zachary speak to her in the parking lot about how she was going after Piaras in sarcastic jest? Would he tell Piaras what she’d said? And then would Piaras, the devil of a vampire himself, come after her?

She swallowed, but her throat was dusty dry. She tilted her chin up, showing him he could not intimidate her. Yet every ounce of her huntress sense screamed at her to leave the balcony at once, to warn the hunters a vampire was lurking here, to have him destroyed before he could make her do something she would forever regret.

She’d never heard of a vampire behaving so boldly with that many hunters nearby. Which warned her he was a danger she should well heed. “If I scream, the hunters will come and rescue me.”

Hidden in the shadows, he made a derisive sound. “You’re not interested in anything they have to offer. To dance with any, you must ply yourself with liquor. You wish to be intimate with none of them...not like you wish to be with me.”

Instantly, her blood sizzled. “Why you arrogant—”

“But I can help you, and in return, you’ll aid me.”

To kill Piaras? The vampire had to be delusional, if he was sincere in the least. But he didn’t sound crazy, which left a more disagreeable reason he was risking his neck here. Some darker reason that had nothing to do with her helping him to kill the evil one.

“What makes you think I...” She folded her arms and changed her tactic, not wanting to discuss the most hated vampire in the region further, or give this vampire any clues about her own nature—that he hadn’t already sensed. “Who are you?”

Another inkling of dread twisted her insides—what if he was Piaras? What if he wished to see if she’d come willingly to him? The ultimate challenge for a vampire of his demonic stature? Right here under the noses of the gathered hunters of the biggest annual bash held in the region? And she, the head of the League of Hunters only unmated female relation?

“Come closer and I’ll whisper my name to you.” His sensual voice stroked her like a brush of black velvet against naked skin. “I wouldn’t want the others to know I have an interest in you.”

Interest? At seduction! Manipulating vampire! Yet, she was nearly ready to let him manipulate her right into his enticing embrace. Unless he was Piaras. Still, she’d heard he was a master at seducing women. Human women, of course. He couldn’t control hunters as far as she knew.

But maybe…maybe this cloaked man wasn’t a vampire after all. A hunter, who wanted to do away with Piaras, to earn himself a name. Someone who wasn’t part of the hunter families in the area. Someone who wanted to join them and needed a way to prove his worth.

Then again, what could she do to help? She wasn’t trained to take down anything as dangerous as the ancient one. No, he had to be a vampire. “You’re not a hunter. If you were, you’d be at the party. Unless you’re a renegade hunter. But you couldn’t slip onto the balcony unless you came through the ballroom, or…”

He had to be a vampire, and she was foolhardy not to ready her weapon. She reached for the dagger at her waist and belatedly realized she wasn’t wearing it. Not to a dance while wearing a gown. Her skin prickled with fresh awareness at how vulnerable she truly was.

He chuckled and the silky sound sent a volley of heat to her belly. “Are you afraid of me?”

He knew she teetered between fear and macabre inquisitiveness. She wasn’t afraid of dying, not at his hand. But of being seduced by his voice, by his touch, the memory of his strong fingers on her arm, the power, the possessiveness, the desire in the heat shared between them still clouding her judgment.

“Should I be afraid?” she asked, much more breathlessly than she wished.

“You should be more afraid of them.” His tone was ominous, as if he knew something about them that she didn’t.

Which was absurd.

“The hunters, you mean?” When he didn’t respond, she shook her head. “I’m not afraid of them.” Willing herself to fight her fear of the dark and what waited therein, she drew a step nearer the shadows. Only in an effort to learn what the vampire’s business was. If she could, wouldn’t her uncle be pleased with her? Maybe even enough to give her a really good paying contract? “I’m close enough. Tell me your name.”

“Come closer.”

She’d had enough of his game. She stood still and crossed her arms, determined not to move another step in his direction—no matter how badly she wanted to see if the creature’s appearance was as sexy as his alluring voice.

Time for the vampire to play his cards. She raised her brows. “I won’t draw any closer. Are you afraid?”

For a minute, that seemed like an eternity, neither moved, and she wondered if he’d grown tired of the game or was truly afraid of showing himself in the event any of the hunters noticed and so then had vanished. But then he walked partly out of the shadows, a ruffle of thick lashes framing his penetrating black eyes and pinned her with an aroused look, dark and lustfully dangerous.

Her heart tripped. She fought taking a step back, of fleeing from the balcony into the ballroom filled with hunters who would protect her from the likes of one so treacherous. And beautiful. His eyes drew her into their fathomless depths, willing her to drink further, to stay with him forever.

But vampires could not control a hunter with their seductive charms. A look, and a human would bare his or her throat, begging for the vampire’s bite. The vampire could not use their hypnotic seduction on a hunter, or huntress.

So what intrigued her so much about him? Not his chiseled face that looked as though he’d been carved from the finest marble from his square jaw to his distinctive nose and wide cheekbones. Not his dark eyebrows giving his roguish appearance further character. Or the straggles of dark tendrils that had loosened from his long hair tied back in a tail and swept his cheeks, teasing his ivory skin, softening his formidable appearance. Even now she longed to free the rest of his hair, to comb her fingers through the strands, to caress the silkiness as if she were his lover.

A blousy-sleeved, black silk shirt fit over broad shoulders and opened provocatively at the chest. And the lure that caught her attention, a gold medallion encircling a diamond, dangled against his bare skin, now catching the light from the ballroom again. Enticing her to reach out and touch it, to hold the treasure in her hand, to feel the hefty-looking weight of it.

But more than anything, his eyes caught her attention and held her captive.

Until banging on the glass door behind her shattered the spell the vampire held over her, and she jumped a little. The music instantly died, shouts filled the air, and two hunters struggled with the door handles, twisting and cursing, while another pounded on the glass to keep her attention. As if she’d give herself up to the vampire if he didn’t.

“Try to open the door, Rachel!” Gregory shouted, his face flushed, his hands on the glass as if reaching out to give her solace.

Her heart in her throat, she watched as other hunters, from potential suitors to older mated men, rushed to grab their swords, removed earlier while they danced. They yanked the deadly steel from leather sheaths.

Torn with indecision, part of her conscious told her she should try the door handles that the hunters continued to twist back and forth, see if they would work for her when they wouldn’t for them. But another part of her refused to do anything that could mean the vampire’s death.

His voice low and dark, the vampire said, “A special trick of mine.”

She turned to face him.

Everyone in the ballroom suddenly grew deathly silent as if they were swallowed up by a black hole. All that remained was the man in the shadows, the breeze whipping her hair about and plastering her long skirt against her legs, and the distance between them—that wouldn’t be safe enough if he decided to press his advantage.

No smile graced the vampire’s lips. His alluring gaze challenged her again to attempt to break free from his magnetism, or be his.