From her fluid grace to her perfect curves, she was sensual and exotic, ready for a bedding rather than a battle.

"You should not be here. I could have killed you, woman." He didn't mind killing females, had done so on many occasions, but it would have been a shame to destroy something so lovely. His jaw clenched as he realized exactly what he was thinking. Damn her. He did not regard women with any kind of desire. Not anymore.

One corner of her lush, red mouth kicked up, causing his stomach to tighten. "Please," she said, voice sultry, like a dream. "You'll need a few centuries' more sword practice before you have the skill to eliminate me, vampire." She swung at him yet again, this time aiming for his neck.

There were no creatures faster than the vampires, and he managed to arch backward with swift precision as the blade soared just over his nose. "And you fancy yourself my tutor? I think not." But he admired her confidence.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. Another swing.

Another block. "Helping you."

A tinkling laugh escaped her, floating over his skin with the surety of a lover's caress. His stomach tightened again. He scowled, mouth thinning over razor-sharp teeth. How was she affecting him like this?

He had not experienced even a single wisp of need since—do not think of Susan. You will lose focus.

Growling, he swung at the Amazon. She blocked the harder blow and frowned. Better. A frown was better than a laugh. And so he did it again. Slashed at her, using all of his might. When their swords next met, both of their bodies vibrated from the impact.

Her delicate nose twitched. In irritation? Amusement? Delight?

Surely not the latter two.

"This is how you help me?" she demanded.

"No. That was me, helping myself. Now this is me, helping you." With a swift jerk of his arm, he tossed his dagger. The tip embedded in the neck of the dragon racing toward her from behind. "See the difference?"