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urging Foley to bare his neck.
    Foley did as he was bid, closing his eyes as a wave of desire skittered across his body, awakening unwanted passion. With a chuckle, Lee softly said, “Do not fear. We will get to that later.”
    Which was just what Foley was afraid of. He whimpered and finally did wet himself as he recalled the last time Lee had taken him. The Asian vampire had been brutal and uncaring of how much damage he had done.
    Dreading a repeat of that performance, Foley said, “Master—”
    â€œSssh, Daniel,” Lee began, using his given name the way one might a lover’s, only Lee knew nothing of love. Only conquest and pain, Foley thought.
    â€œYou will enjoy it, Daniel. You always do,” Lee said, beginning to transform. The black of his eyes literally bled out and became glowing embers of red. The black of his hair receded, replaced by the palest strands of glistening white, making him look almost albino.
    But it was his fangs that snared and held Foley’s attention.
    From the small buds he had noticed earlier burst shiny white and lethally long fangs that extended well beyond the lower jaw. Needle-sharp, they could easily pierce the toughest of hides, but what Lee clearly wanted tonight was him.
    Before he could protest, Lee forced aside Foley’s head and perforated the skin at his neck to sink his teeth deep into an artery.
    The pain of the kiang-shi’s bite seared along Foley’s nerves and exploded in the center of his brain like a supernova. The explosion continued outward, tearing into every sensitive synapse in its path, creating fiery agony in each cell of his body.
    Foley screamed, his harsh guttural cry resounding in the confines of his small office.
    Against his neck, Lee’s throaty laughter erupted. In his brain came Lee’s insistent command.
    Scream some more. I love it when you scream.
    Â 
    Blake noticed the way Diego’s nose wrinkled in apparent disgust and how Ryder Latimer, the other coowner of Otro Mundo, eyeballed him the way a father might a virgin daughter’s first date.
    â€œWhat is that smell?” Diego said.
    The debonair vampire, chic in a charcoal gray suit that probably cost more than Blake had ever made in both his lifetimes combined, walked from around his large desk and stood beside him. Diego bent from his greater height, took another sniff and said, “Mothballs?”
    â€œIs that getup for real?” Ryder asked. He motioned with his finger to the rather dated, dark blue polyester suit Blake had lifted from the Goodwill store earlier in the day.
    Blake tugged at the lapels of the jacket and inched his head up defiantly. “Didn’t think the chains and leather would make a good impression during an interview.”
    â€œAn interview?” Diego said with a sneer. He sat on the edge of his desk and across the way from Ryder, who lounged lazily in the chair beside where Blake stood.
    Blake fought the urge to fidget beneath the probing glances of both vampires. With his head tilted upward at a defiant angle, he said, “Heard you were still hiring. Thought it was about time I had some gainful employment.”
    â€œWhat you really mean is that you want to stalk Meghan up close and personal.” Diego crossed his arms, straining the fabric of the suit across his powerful shoulders.
    â€œIt’s not a good idea, Blake,” Ryder added, his tone a trifle more friendly, but tinged with concern.
    â€œLook, I know the little chit probably wants nothing to do with me—”
    â€œâ€˜Probably’ being a major understatement,” Ryder said with a chuckle. Then he grew more serious and continued. “If I recall correctly, she spent the first year of her undead life trying to rip your throat out.”
    â€œOr put a stake through your heart,” Diego added.
    It was hard to argue with them when they were right, Blake thought. “Things have changed since