“Let me down!” Vancha yelled furiously.

“Not until you give me a kiss, you naughty boy,” she chortled.

“I’ll give you a kick up the —”

“Language, Vancha,” she stopped him, squeezing his ribs so hard that his eyes almost popped.

“Apologies… Lady,” he wheezed, then pecked her cheek before he suffocated.

The woman smiled and let him drop, then curtsied gracefully to Seba. “You are welcome as always, Master Nile,” she said in a soft, melodic voice.

“And grateful for that privilege, my Lady,” Seba said, bowing as he would have before a Prince.

“You’ve brought a couple of assistants,” she noted, turning her brown eye on Larten and her green eye on Wester. Both were gaping at her.

“This is Lar —” Seba began to introduce them.

“I know their names,” the woman interrupted. “And I believe they know mine. Don’t you, gentlemen?”

“Evanna?” Wester gasped, barely able to believe it.

“They expected someone more glamorous,” she said to Vancha.

“Many do,” he grinned.

“Perhaps this is more what they had in mind.” She shimmered and changed shape. She was now tall and lithe, with long blond hair and an angel’s features, clad in a flowing white dress. Larten stared at her, enamored. He reached out a hand to caress her, then let it drop. He didn’t feel he had the right to touch anyone this beautiful.

“Too easily impressed,” Evanna tutted, resuming her former appearance. “You shouldn’t judge by what’s on the outside. Only a fool falls for a pretty face. Are you fools?”

Larten was first to speak this time. “For you, Lady, I would be anything,” he said softly, the words springing to his lips.

Evanna raised an eyebrow and glared at him. But as he blinked, confused by her icy look, she realized he wasn’t being impudent. “I like this one, Seba,” she cooed. “Not the brightest vampire I’ve ever met, but he has a good heart.”