Wallace laughed harshly. âThey donât like one another. They need women, and they donât like to share. They turn on each other, place someone into our hands. Still, they are strong. No matter how they suffer, they never talk. Which in some ways is fine, since they can mesmerize with their voices. But youâll talk, Doc. Iâll have all the time in the world with you. Did you know when a vampireâs in agony, it sweats blood?â
âSurely I would know that if I were a vampire. Iâve never sweated blood in my life. Letâs see if I have thisstraight. Vampires stalk not only humans but also each other. The males betray one another to you human butchers because they need females. I thought they could just bite women and turn them into vampires.â Sarcastically she was ticking off each item on her fingers. âYou want me to believe Iâm one of these fictitious creatures, so powerful that my voice alone can enslave this strong man here.â Deliberately she gestured toward Jeff Smith, flashing him a gentle smile. âGentlemen, Iâm a doctor. I save lives every day. I sleep in a bed, not in a coffin. I am not the least bit strong, and I have never sucked anyoneâs blood in my life.â She glanced at Don Wallace. âYou, however, admittedly have tortured and mutilated men, even murdered them. And evidently you derive great pleasure from this. I donât believe you two are cops, or officials of any law-abiding agency. I think you are the monsters.â She turned her emerald eyes back to Jeff Smith, her voice low, seductive. âDo you really think Iâm a danger to you?â
He seemed to be falling forward into her beckoning gaze. He had never wanted a woman more. He blinked, cleared his throat, and stole a slow, calculating look at Wallace. Smith had never noticed that greedy, cold look on his partnerâs face before. âNo, no, of course youâre not a danger to me or anyone else.â
âDamn it, Jeff, letâs get her and get the hell out of here,â Wallace snarled, the need to teach her who was in charge riding him hard.
Emerald eyes slid over Smith, fastened on his mesmerized gaze. She could feel his desire, and she fed it, fed his fantasies of her welcoming his attentions. She had learned at a very young age that she could get into peopleâs minds, manipulate their thoughts. Initially it had terrified her to wield that kind of power, but it was a useful tool in the O.R., and it was useful now, when she was threatened.
âDon, why donât they just turn human women? Thatwould make sense. And why did the vampire just quit helping us? We left the area in a big hurry, and you never did tell me what went wrong,â Smith said suspiciously.
âAre you trying to say one of these male vampires actually helped you in your campaign to kill others and thatâs how you were so successful?â Shea asked, a little sneer of disbelief in her voice.
âHe was nasty, vengeful. He hated the kid, but he particularly despised this one here.â Smith tapped the photograph of the man with the long black hair. âHe wanted him tortured, burned, to feel it.â
âShut up,â Wallace snapped. âLetâs get it over. Sheâs worth a hundred thousand dollars to the society. They want to study her.â
Shea laughed softly. âIf I truly was one of your mythical vampires, I should be worth far more than that to your âresearchâ committee. I think your partner is holding out on you, Mr. Smith.â
The truth was there to read on Wallaceâs face. When Smith turned to confront him, Shea made her move: she leapt out the window, landed on her feet like a cat, and ran for her life. She had no personal items she was concerned about, no favorite memento. Her one regret was the loss of her books.
When he felt her fear, Jacques experienced the need to protect her. The urge was as strong as his