"Och, lassie. Those be flashes to hold up my hose."
"Is that a knife?" She leaned over for a closer look at Connor's socks.
Roman suppressed a growl. Next she'd be telling Connor his hairy knees were cute. "Connor, take our guest to the kitchen. She may be hungry."
"Aye, sir."
"And have your men conduct a full surveillance sweep every half hour."
"Aye, sir." Connor motioned to the back of the entry hall. "This way, miss."
"Go with him, Shanna. I'll come for you shortly."
"Aye, aye, sir." She gave him an annoyed look, then followed Connor to the kitchen, mumbling, "I should have shot him."
Gregori whistled low as the kitchen door swung shut. "Sweet. Your dentist is one feisty little babe."
"Gregori—" Roman gave him a stern look that was ignored.
He adjusted his silk tie. "Yeah, I think I need a check-up. I've got a cavity that needs to be filled."
"Enough!" Roman growled. "You will leave her alone. Understand?"
"Yeah, we know. We saw you drooling on her outside." Gregori strolled toward Roman, his eyes twinkling. "So, you got the hots for a mortal, huh? What happened to the 'never again' speech?"
Roman lifted an eyebrow.
Gregori grinned. "You know, I could tell she really likes those guy skirts. Maybe Connor could loan you one of his."
"They're called kilts," Laszlo said as he fiddled with a button.
"Whatever." Gregori looked Roman over. "So, how sexy are your legs?"
Roman gave him a warning look. "Why are you here, Gregori? I thought you were going out with Simone."
"Oh, I did. I took her to this new club over by Times Square, but then she got mad cause nobody recognized her."
"Why should they?"
"She's a famous model, bro! She was on last month's cover of Cosmo. Don't you keep up? Anyway, she was so pissed off, she threw a table across the dance floor."
Roman groaned. Becoming a vampire could vastly increase one's strength and enhance the five senses, but unfortunately, it did nothing to improve one's intelligence.
"I thought it might look suspicious for someone that skinny to be so strong," Gregori continued, "so I took care of it. I erased everybody's memories and brought her back here. She's with your harem now, getting sympathy and a pedicure."
"I would prefer that you not call them my harem." Roman glanced toward the closed parlor doors.
"Are they in there?"
"Yeah." Gregori looked amused. "I told them to stay put and be quiet, but who knows if they'll behave?"
Roman sighed. "I don't have time to deal with them. Call your mother and see if she'll keep an eye on them."
Gregori snorted. "She'll love that." He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and stepped away to make the call.
"Laszlo?"
The short chemist jumped. "Yes, sir?"
"Would you go to the kitchen and ask Shanna what she'll need for the… uh, procedure?"
Laszlo looked confused for a second, then his expression cleared. "Oh, right! The procedure."
"And tell Connor to come out here for a second."
"Yes, sir." Laszlo scurried to the kitchen.
"Mom's on her way." Gregori slipped the phone back into his pocket. "So the dentist hasn't implanted your tooth yet?"
"No. We ran into a problem. Ivan Petrovsky. It appears the young dentist is on his latest hit list."
"You're kidding! What did she do?"
"I don't know exactly." Roman glanced toward the kitchen. "But I mean to find out."
The kitchen door swung as Connor strode into the foyer. He met them at the base of the stairs. "Can ye tell me why I just made a turkey sandwich for a dentist?"
Roman sighed. He'd have to let his head of security in on the situation. "Earlier tonight, I lost a tooth while conducting an experiment." He removed the bloody hanky from his jeans pocket and displayed the contents.
"Ye lost yer fang? Holy Christ Almighty," Connor whispered. "I've never heard of that happening before."
"Neither have I," Roman confessed sadly. "And I've been a vampire for over five hundred years."
"Wow! Maybe it's old age," Gregori suggested, then winced at the look Roman and Connor gave him.
'The only explanation I can think of is our new diet." Roman wrapped the tooth and stuffed it back into his pocket. "It's the only variable that has changed since we became vampires."
Connor frowned. "But we're still drinking blood, man. I doona see the difference."
"It's how we drink it," Roman explained. "We no longer bite. When's the last time either of you extended your fangs?"
"I don't even remember." Gregori tugged at one end of his black bow tie to unravel the knot. "Who needs fangs when we drink our meals from a glass?"
"Aye," Connor agreed. "And if ye doona keep them retracted, they'll be clinking on the glass, getting in the way."
"Right." Roman didn't like his conclusion, but it was the only explanation he could come up with. "I think it's a case of 'if you don't use them, you'll lose them. »
"Bugger," Connor muttered. "We need our bloody fangs."
Gregori's eyes widened. "Well, we can't start biting mortals. I refuse! All the progress we've made would be lost."
"Exactly." Roman nodded. Gregori Holstein was annoying at times, but totally committed to their mission of making the world safe for vampires and mortals alike. "Perhaps we could come up with some sort of exercise program."
"Yeah!" Gregori's eyes sparkled. "I'll get right on it."
Roman smiled. Gregori attacked every problem with unfailing enthusiasm. It was times like this that he knew promoting Gregori had been a wise choice.
The kitchen door swung open, and Laszlo rushed toward them. "There's a problem, sir. The lady insists the implantation procedure is best achieved in a dental office. And she refuses to return to her place of work."
"She's right about her clinic," Roman conceded. "No doubt the police are all over the place by now."
Connor closed a fist over the hilt of his Highland dirk. "Laszlo told us there were some bastards wanting to kill the puir woman. Those bloody whoresons."
"Yes." Roman sighed. He had hoped Shanna could fix his tooth in the safety and privacy of his home. "Gregori, you'll need to locate another dental office, one close by that we can use."
"No problem, bro."
"I'd better watch the lass," Connor grumbled. "We canna have her digging about in our fridge." The Scotsman hurried back to the kitchen.
Laszlo plucked at a loose button on his coat. "Sir, she mentioned a specific product that would greatly increase your chances of a successful reimplantation. She was certain that any dental office would have the product on hand."
"Good." Roman removed the handkerchief-wrapped tooth from his pocket and handed it to Laszlo.
"I want you to go with Gregori and take care of my fang until I arrive."
Laszlo gulped and stuffed the fang into his lab coat pocket. "We… we'll be breaking and entering, won't we?"
"Don't worry about it." Gregori gripped the small chemist by the shoulder and herded him toward the front door. "The place will be empty, and the mortals will never know what happened."
"Well, okay, I guess." At the door, Laszlo halted and looked back. "I should warn you, sir. Even though the young lady was forthcoming with information, she insists that she will not, under any circumstances, put a wolf's tooth in your mouth."
Gregori laughed. "She thinks it's a wolf's tooth?"
Roman shrugged. "It's a logical misperception on her part."
"Well, yeah." Gregori gave him an exasperated look. "But why didn't you just plant the right perception in her head?"
Roman paused. Laszlo and Gregori watched him, waiting for the reply. God's blood. Hadn't he endured enough humiliation for one night? "I, uh—I was unable to gain control of her mind."
Laszlo's mouth dropped open.
Gregori jolted back. "Snap! You couldn't control on
e measly mortal?"
Roman clenched his fists. "No."
Gregori slapped a hand against his brow. "Snap!"
"Why the hell are you snapping? Are you a turtle?" It was times like this that firing Gregori seemed to be the wise choice.
"It means I'm floundering in stunned disbelief. Sheesh, bro. You gotta keep up with the latest lingo."
Laszlo frowned, his fingers fiddling even faster with a button. "Begging your pardon, sir, but has this ever happened before?"
"No."
"Maybe you are getting old," Gregori suggested.
"Screw you," Roman growled.
"No, no. You gotta sound more modern, bro. Try using the F-word." Gregori paused, then his face slowly turned pink. "You, uh, were referring to me, weren't you?"
Roman lifted an eyebrow. "The young can be a little slow."
Laszlo paced across the foyer. "This is somewhat beyond my area of expertise, but it seems to me that it is highly likely that you are missing a distinct possibility."
They turned to stare at the small chemist.
He licked his lips and yanked at a button. "Since Mr. Draganesti has never experienced this sort of… uh, problem before, the answer may not lie in his abilities or uh, lack thereof." The button tumbled to the floor, and the chemist leaned over to pick it up.
"What are you saying?" Gregori asked.
Laszlo slid the loose button into his coat pocket. "I mean the problem may rest with the mortal."
"She's extremely strong-willed," Roman conceded, "though I've never known a mortal who could resist our power."
"I agree." Laszlo nodded, attacking the last button on his lab coat. "But the fact remains that somehow, she did resist. There is something different about that woman."
There was utter silence while Laszlo's announcement sank in. Roman had already suspected she was different, but to hear one of his smartest scientists reach the same conclusion—it was unnerving.
"This is bad," Gregori murmured. "Really bad. If we can't control her, then she's…"
"Fascinating," Roman whispered.
Gregori winced. "I was going to say dangerous."
That, too. But even the thought of danger seemed appealing to Roman tonight. Especially when it involved Shanna.
"We could try to find another dentist," Laszlo suggested.
"No." Roman shook his head. "We have only a few hours of darkness left, and you said it yourself, Laszlo—the tooth must be fixed tonight. Gregori, take Laszlo to the nearest dental office and secure the premises. You can take his car. It's out front. Laszlo, do what you can to save my fang. Give us thirty minutes, then call my office upstairs."
Laszlo's eyes widened. "You'll use my voice to teleport?"
"Yes." It would be the quickest way to get the procedure over with. But they would never be able to do it unless they had full control of Shanna's mind and could erase her memory afterward. "Gregori, come back as soon as you can. I'll need you and Connor to assist me with the dentist. We have to gain control of her mind."
"No problem." Gregori shrugged. "At the club, I erased a hundred mortal minds all at once. This will be child's play."
By the worried expression on Laszlo's face, it was clear he didn't share Gregori's confidence.
"It should work," Roman said. "Even if she can resist the power of one vampire, she'll be no match for the three of us."
While Gregori and Laszlo hurried out the front door, the words of the chemist echoed in Roman's mind. There was something different about Shanna. What if he couldn't gain control of her mind?
She'd never agree to implant his fang as long as she believed it belonged to an animal. He'd spend the rest of eternity as a joke. The one-fanged wonder.
And he didn't dare tell her he was a vampire. She wouldn't want to implant his tooth. She'd react like Eliza and want to bury a stake in his heart.
CHAPTER 5
"Tell me you found Shanna Whelan." Ivan Petrovsky glared at four of the best thugs the Russian mafia had to offer.
They avoided looking him in the eye. Cowards, all of them. Ivan had insisted on staying close to the dental clinic in case Shanna Whelan was hiding nearby. These four men had completed their search of nearby alleys and come up empty-handed.
Three blocks away, police cars screeched to a halt in front of the ransacked clinic. Their flashing lights bounced off nearby buildings, waking the inhabitants. Mortals ventured onto the street, hoping to see something exciting. Like a dead body.
It was a thrill Ivan was usually happy to supply, but tonight, Stesha's thugs had screwed up.
Incompetent cowards.
Ivan strode toward the two black sedans they had moved away from the crime scene before the police could arrive. "She couldn't have just disappeared. She's only a mortal."
The four thugs followed him. A blond giant with a square jaw replied, "We didn't see her go out the front or the back."
Ivan breathed in the blond Neanderthal's scent. O positive. Too bland. Too damned stupid. "So, you think she did disappear?"
No answer. They watched their feet as they shuffled along.
"We did see the back door swing open," a thug finally confessed, his face stippled with acne scars.
"And?" Ivan waited impatiently.
"I thought I saw two people." Acne Face frowned. "But when we ran to the door, there was no one there."
"I thought I heard something. Like a swoosh," a third thug offered.
"A swoosh?" Ivan clenched his fists. "Is that all you can tell me?" Tension coursed through him, zeroing in on the muscles in his upper spine. With a sudden tilt of his head, he snapped his neck and felt a small measure of relief.
The four mortals winced.
Stesha Bratsk, the local Russian mafia boss, had insisted his own men take part in the Shanna
Whelan assignment. A big mistake. Ivan's fingers itched to encircle their thick bull necks and squeeze the life out of them. If only he had used his own vampires. Then the Whelan girl would be dead, and he'd be receiving the bounty money of two hundred and fifty grand.
He was going to get that money one way or another. He thought back, recalling the interior of the dental clinic. No sign of the girl anywhere. The only interesting thing he had found was an uneaten pizza with the name of a deli emblazoned on the box in red and green letters. "Where is Carlo's Deli?"
"Little Italy," the blond thug replied. "Great pizza."
"I like their lasagna better," Acne Face said.
"You idiots!" Ivan glowered at them. "How will you explain your failure to Stesha tonight? His cousin in Boston is serving a life sentence, all because that little bitch testified against him in court."
They shifted from one foot to another.
Ivan took a deep breath. He didn't care what happened to Stesha or his family. They were mortals, after all. But these guys worked for them, so they needed to show more loyalty. And less stupidity.
"From now on, I use my own men at night. During the day, you watch the deli and the Whelan girl's apartment. If you find her, follow her. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," they mumbled in unison.
Unfortunately, Ivan didn't have much hope for their success. His own vampires would prove much more capable at finding the missing Shanna Whelan. The only problem was they could work only at night. He needed these damned mortals to carry on the mission during the day.
A third black sedan pulled up beside the other two cars, and two more of Stesha's employees got out.
"Well? Did you find her?" Ivan asked.
A bearded thug with a shaved head came forward. "We spotted another car a block north of here. A green Honda. Two men. Pavel thinks he saw a woman."
"I did," Pavel insisted. "They were sticking her in the trunk."
Ivan raised his eyebrows. Had someone else captured the Whelan girl before him? Crap. Someone else wanted the reward money. His reward money. "Where did they go?"
Pavel cursed and kicked a car tire. "We lost them."
Ivan s
napped his head once more to relieve the building pressure in his neck. "Doesn't anyone train you people? Or does Stesha hire you right off the boat?"
The bald one's face turned red. Red and fully flushed with blood. Ivan's nostrils flared. AB
Negative. God, he was hungry. He had planned to feast on the Whelan girl, but now he would have to look elsewhere.
"We did get the license plate number," Pavel offered. "We'll find out who owns the car."
"You do that. And report to me in two hours. I'll be at my home in Brooklyn."
Pavel's face turned pale. "Yes, sir."
No doubt he'd heard the rumors. Sometimes people who entered the home of the Russian coven at night were never seen again. Ivan stepped closer to the six men and stared at each of them in the eye. "If you find her, you will not kill her. That is my job. Don't even think about earning the reward money for yourself. You won't live long enough to enjoy it. Understand?"
There was a series of gulps and nods.
"Leave me now. Stesha is waiting to hear from you."
The six thugs climbed into the black sedans and drove away.
Ivan strolled toward the crime scene. Neighbors stood about, huddled in groups while they watched the police. A pretty blond in a pink bathrobe caught his eye. He stared at her. Come to me.
She turned and looked him over. Slowly, she smiled. Foolish woman, she thought she was seducing him. He gestured toward a dark alley. She sauntered toward him, swaying her hips, stroking her fluffy pink bathrobe with long pink fingernails.
He stepped into the darkness and waited.
She sailed into her doom as dumbly as a pink poodle bouncing into a grooming parlor, eager to be admired and petted. "Are you new in the neighborhood? I don't recall seeing you before."
Come closer. "Are you wearing anything under that robe?"
She giggled. "Shame on you. Don't you know the police are just a few feet away?"
"Makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"
She laughed again, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "You are a bad boy, aren't you?"
He took her by the shoulders. "You have no idea." In an instant, his fangs sprang out.
She gasped, but before she could react further, his fangs were deep in her neck. Blood flooded his mouth—rich, hot, and with the added risk of the nearby police, it was extra spicy.
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