“Oh, yeah. You sure you can undo this freeze thing?” Greg patted my cheek, hard enough to make me rock against the wall. “Aggie really wanted to come out here and do it herself.”

“I can take care of it. Leave us.” Simon smiled into my eyes. It was like staring into a cobra’s gaze, waiting for the fatal strike. I prayed he’d thaw me out, so I could run like hell or shift and fly away.

Greg left and closed the door.

“Gloriana, you know I can read your thoughts. Since you’re so hell-bent on leaving, it suits me to leave you in this helpless state awhile longer.” Simon backed up a step. “You’re not going anywhere until you meet my special guest. That’s why I had Gregory bring you out here, since you refused my invitation to come on your own.” Simon walked over to his desk and picked up a phone. “Send him in, Loretta.”

I didn’t know who to expect and sure didn’t like Simon’s secret smile when the door opened and a man walked in. When I saw who it was, I really wished I could blink, rub my eyes, something. No way. Couldn’t be. That bump on my head had given me hallucinations.

“Glory St. Clair. I’ve been wanting to thank you for what you did.” The man strode over to stand right in front of me.

Gag reflex. No, not working. Hyperventilate. Breathing didn’t function either.

“What’s the matter with her?” He put his hand on my shoulder, and I began to slide.

“Frozen. It’s a trick some of us higher-level entities can use as a defense. She doesn’t like to visit here.”

I landed on my back and lay staring at the ceiling. Neither man so much as lifted a finger to help me. Real gentlemen.

“I’d like to do that. Freeze someone. Is she stuck like this permanently? That would be bad. I need her, you know. Able to move.” The man squatted beside me and peered into my eyes, so close I could feel his breath on my face.

He’d been drinking from a type-B mortal, and I could see his fangs. Vampire. Hysterical laughter knocked around in my brain, sending my thoughts scattering. One landed front and center. I hated him. Oh, yeah. First chance I got, he was going to hell and staying there. His eyes raked my body, and he squeezed my breast through my sweater. His smile begged to be ripped off his face.

“I can release her at any time. But I’d suggest you be on the other side of the room when I do it.” Simon stood beside his guest and clapped him on the shoulder. “Read her thoughts. I think you’ll find them enlightening.”

“Oh yeah. I keep forgetting I can do that.” He stood, then stared into my eyes. I sent him a very specific message.

“Wow. She’s got a mouth on her.” He glanced at Simon, then back at me, his smile full of fang. “Sorry, Glory, but Brent Westwood’s back, and thanks to you and Greg Kaplan, I’m going to live forever.”

Nine

“Glory, I’m going to release you now.” Simon had taken Westwood’s place by my side. “I’d advise you to behave if you want to stay free.”

Behave? Instead of fight or try to escape? Why not? I wanted to know what Brent Westwood could possibly need from me. Gross touches or not, it wasn’t sex. I’d read his mind too, enough to know he’d just been trying to intimidate me. God, I hated him.

“All right. I can see you’ve decided to be reasonable.” Simon touched my shoulder. I could move.

Good intentions or not, I leaped and went straight for Westwood. I threw him up against the wall, my hands on his shoulders.

“Listen to me, you asshole. You ever touch me like that again, and I’ll kill you and make sure it’s permanent this time. You hear me?” I slammed his head against the wall. Simon just watched, apparently amused. “I’m not ripping out your throat because you probably taste like dirty gym socks. But, remember, you’re a fledgling, and I’m over four hundred years old. I can take you down and not even break a sweat.”

“Simon? You just going to stand there and let her do this?” Westwood’s mouth trembled over his new fangs.

“You shouldn’t have touched her. Only a man who can’t get a woman any other way would take advantage like that.” Simon strolled over to his desk and sat in a black leather chair. “Let him explain his needs, Gloriana. I think you’ll see an advantage in cooperating.”

I smacked Brent’s head against the wall one more time, then let him slide down into a groaning heap on the floor. “Cooperate with him? You’re kidding. Damned vampire killer. Why haven’t you fed him to your goddess in little chunks already?”

“Normally, I would have. But remember who we’re dealing with.” Simon gestured at Westwood, who was giving me hate-filled looks. “He’s a billionaire. Money talks.”

“Not that loud. I can’t believe Greg turned him. What the hell was he thinking?” I strode over to an armchair in front of Simon’s desk and sat. I didn’t doubt Simon would keep Westwood from retaliating against me. Obviously I had a purpose here.

“It was genius. I was amazed Kaplan had the foresight to do it, and I’ve rewarded him.” Simon smiled. “You can imagine how surprised our guest was when he woke up.”

I grinned. “Hey, Brent, how’s it feel to be one of those evil undead bloodsuckers? Where’s your crossbow? Want me to put you out of your misery?” That earned me a one-finger salute, and I laughed so hard I got tears in my eyes. “I love the irony. Tell me, Simon, did he cry and beg you to stake him?”

“Shut up, bitch.” Westwood threw himself into a chair. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“What I know is that you hunted down innocent vampires. I saw that Web site. You put your kills on exhibition.” I snarled at him. “You don’t deserve immortality.”

“Tough shit.” He smiled and showed fang. “I got it anyway.”

“Cool it, both of you. Westwood, remember you need Gloriana’s cooperation. Living forever is an expensive proposition. You said you wanted access to your funds.” Simon was serious now. “Don’t get sidetracked by petty concerns.”

“It’s not petty when I’m attacked. She nailed me in the first place with my own weapon.” Westwood glared at me. “The pain! Hell, I prayed for death as I tried to stay absolutely still and listened to that bunch of vampires talk about chopping off my head.”

“Too bad they didn’t follow through. It would have made a sweet bowling ball.” I smirked at him. “You can appreciate the desire to take a trophy, can’t you, Brent? Where’s your necklace?”

“Figured one of those damned vamps took it.” Westwood looked down at his fists. “But forget that. I’m looking to the future now.” He glanced at Simon. “I want my old life back, or at least access to my funds. But I’ll need your help.”

“When monkeys fly out of your butt.” I sat back. “Your kids are already divvying up your fortune. All they want is your body. Somehow I think they’ll be disappointed if you show up now.” I grinned at him. “Not exactly father of the year, were you?”

“I made some mistakes. Like anybody could.” Westwood stood, looming over me. I jumped up and faced him.

“Yeah, I made a big one. I should have ripped out your throat. Made sure you were truly dead that night.” I looked him up and down. “But I couldn’t bear to get that close.”

“Can we drop the pissing contest and get down to business?” Simon pounded his fist on his desk, making his phone clatter and Westwood jump a foot. Newbie.

I shrugged and sat down again. “Business. Whatever it is, I’m not interested. This is a waste of time.”

“You’re not going to turn us down, Gloriana.” Simon smiled, his fangs gleaming in the light. He was basically ugly as sin—sharp nose, thinning hair and squinty eyes. But those eyes could promise you the pains of hellfire with just a glance. He gave me the creeps and scared me more than I’d ever admit.

“Watch me.” I hid my fear with a yawn.

“I’ve got to prove that I’m still alive.” Westwood fidgeted. “I want my money and to resume my old life as Brent Westwood, billionaire. I can’t just show up and claim it.”

“Why not?” I was interested in spite of myself.

“Because there were bodyguards who got away that night. They saw you take me out. I’ve been out to the ranch, in disguise of course. I heard what’s going on.”

“What did you do, shift into your natural form and slither in?” I saw him struggle to keep from lashing out again. Damn, he really did need me. This could work to my advantage. I peeked at Simon. He nodded, like there you go. Be smart.

“I went out there really late one night. I managed to destroy the vamp-detecting glasses, every pair. No one else knows exactly how they work, so we won’t be bothered with them again. That was my survival instinct kicking in, of course.” Westwood straightened, looking more like a man who’d made billions with his ideas.

“Of course.” I waited to see what was coming. Insane, talking to Brent Westwood without a stake aimed at my heart.

“There are statements from several witnesses who saw me go down under fire that night. You were identified as the shooter. One guard even had the foresight to take a video with his phone. It’s poor quality, but you can see enough to figure I was down for good. No one went to the police for a couple of reasons.”

“Oh? Like maybe the kids didn’t give a damn how you died or who killed you as long as they could get to your money?” I loved seeing Westwood lose his cool.

“Gloriana, quit goading him.” Simon’s quiet voice rang with authority and the implied threat that I could be a statue again if I didn’t shut up and listen.

Westwood, half out of his chair, glanced at Simon, then settled for a look that promised me payback.

“A couple of reasons. First, it was clear I had the drop on you first. You were acting in self-defense.” He frowned. “I’d underestimated you, and you managed to turn my own weapon on me.”