Gregori turned another page. "Draperies—guaranteed to block out that annoying sunlight.

Dungeons—your choice of several floor plans." He sighed. "That's it. No dentists."

Roman slumped into a wingback chair. "I'll have to go to a mortal." Damn. He'd have to use mind control, then wipe the dentist's memory clean afterward. Otherwise no mortal would be willing to help him.

"We may have trouble finding a mortal dentist who's available in the middle of the night." Laszlo dashed to the wet bar and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Then he proceeded to wipe the blood off VANNA. He gave Roman a worried look. "Sir, it might be best for you to keep the tooth in your mouth."

At the desk, Gregori thumbed through the Yellow Pages. "Sheesh, there's a ton of dentists." He straightened with a jerk and grinned. "I found it! SoHo SoBright Dental Clinic—open twenty-four hours a day for the city that never sleeps. Bingo."

Laszlo let out a deep breath. "What a relief. I'm not sure, since I've never heard of anything like this happening before, but I'm afraid if your fang is not successfully implanted tonight, then it never will be."

Roman sat up. "What do you mean?"

Laszlo threw the bloodied paper towels in a trash can by the desk. "Our injuries are naturally healed while we sleep. If dawn comes and you fall asleep with your fang still missing, your body will close the feeding veins and the wound for good."

Shit. Roman stood. "Then it mutht be done tonight."

"Yes, sir." Laszlo fingered a button on his lab coat. "With any luck, you'll be in perfect shape for the annual conference."

God's blood! Roman gulped. How could he have forgotten the annual spring conference? The Gala Opening Ball was scheduled for two nights from tonight. All the major coven masters from around the world would be there. As master of the largest coven in America, Roman was hosting the big event. If he showed up, missing a fang, he'd be the brunt of jokes for the next century.