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.