Excerpt of A Blood Seduction by Pamela Palmer

When the rope at her wrist came free, Ernesta stepped back. Quinn slowly sat up, easing stiff muscles, then reached for her jeans. "Can humans ever leave Vamp City?"

A shadow crossed the threshold, freezing her in place. Ernesta glanced at the door. "Master."

The vampire. Her heart shot to her throat. Was he back for another bite?

Quinn struggled into her jeans with shaking hands, then slid off the bed farthest from the door, fumbling to pull them up over her hips as her captor stepped back to let Ernesta exit the room. Slowly, casually, he propped his shoulder against the door frame and watched her.

She met his gaze, lifting her chin, trying to hide the quaking fear that was threatening to sweep over her again. She hated this place. Hated it!

His gaze slid leisurely over her like a predator assessing his next meal. "You ask if humans ever leave Vamp City, cara. The answer is no. A vampire may play with his food, but he never sets it free."

But what did she expect him to say? If humans did manage to escape, he'd never admit it. And it didn't matter. She'd find a way. Even if she had to be the first, she'd find Zack and get them both out of here.

He didn't move, just stood there leaning against the door jam. At least he looked normal again. No fangs, no white–centered eyes. Dressed all in black, he looked like a dark angel, the collar of his shirt open, revealing a vee of gold–dusted skin. He was good–looking, she'd give him that. Really good–looking. Too bad he was an evil monster.

His eyes drifting closed in visible pleasure, he tipped his head back. "Do not fear me, cara." Slowly, his lashes lifted and he pinned her with a gaze that, thankfully, was still dark, still normal. "I have come to make amends."

Those certainly weren't the words she'd expected to hear. What game was he playing, now? She watched him warily, every muscle tensed to fight him if he flew at her again, even as she knew he'd move too fast for her to do a damn thing to protect herself. If only she'd known vampires were real. If she ever got out of this mess, she'd never again go out without a silver cross and garlic bulbs in her pocket. And a wooden stake. Definitely a wooden stake.

Her fingers curled around the bedpost and she wondered if she could break it.

His dark eyes softened as he watched her, his mouth kicking up on one side again. "How much do you know of vampires, cara? The real ones, not the myth."

Good question. Maybe garlic didn't really work. "I know you bite."

He gave her a nod that was almost gallant. "We do indeed. What the legends fail to reveal is that not all vampires feed entirely on blood."

"You eat food, too?"

"I do, though not for sustenance. Only for pleasure." He pushed away from the door and took a step into the room. Her grip on the bedpost tightened. "I was not speaking of food."

Quinn's shoulders hunched reflexively. "What else do you need, then?" Dammit...if he said sex...

"Fear."

The word reverberated in her head, sending chills rippling over her skin. "What do you mean?"

"Vampires are not all the same. I am an Emora vamp, as are most within Vamp City. Emoras, like the name would suggest, feed on emotion as well as blood. And require both to survive."

"Fear."

"For me, yes. Each is different. My master, Cristoff, feeds on pain."

Her stomach clenched.

"A good friend of mine feeds on pleasure."

That would be better. Probably. "And you feed on fear."

He gave her another of those slow nods just short of a bow. "I do. I scared you intentionally, piccola. And I fed quite well. But I did so with the full belief I would soon glamour you and steal your memory of it. And that is where I failed."

She frowned at him. "Why steal my memory of it? Why not keep me afraid if you need fear to survive?" And was she an idiot? Was she trying to talk him into scaring the crap out of her again?

"Terrified slaves make poor servants. Shaking hands drop things." He shrugged. "I had believed I could take your memory. Hence my apology for terrifying you when I had no ability to remove that terror."

His regret rang true. Which was...startling.

Quinn shrugged. "You weren't that scary." Which was an out and out lie, but she had her pride.

To her surprise, the vampire grinned, transforming his face, giving it a boyish charm that did funny things to her insides. Things that had nothing to do with fear. "Now you insult me."

She found herself almost smiling in return, which was extraordinary. "Don't get me wrong, it was a damn good effort."

He nodded. "My thanks." But his amusement remained.

"So..." Her fingers lost their death grip on the bedpost. "You're not going to bite me again?"

His smile darkened. "I most certainly will bite you. But I will bring you pleasure when I do so, cara. I have no intention of hurting you."

A cool shiver trembled down her spine as she remembered a still from a movie, Dracula holding a scantily–clad woman in rapturous thrall as he drained the life from her. Was that to be her fate? Why toy with her, if he was only going to kill her in the end?