Suddenly he leaned over, grabbed the hem of his kilt, and peeked underneath. Then he dropped the kilt and fumbled at something below his waist. Emma winced. Was he playing with himself? He lifted something to his mouth and drank. Moonlight glinted off the metal. A flask. Super. He was a pervert and a drunk. With a sigh, she turned north and walked away.

What a silly waste of her time, fantasizing about a brave Highland warrior. She should have known he was just one of the thousands of kilted, liquor-guzzling men roaming the city after the parade. Besides, in her line of business, she couldn't afford to get sentimental. The enemy was ruthless.

Scrunch. Emma halted and listened. The path curved to the left and out of sight, but she could hear the sound of footsteps shuffling through dead leaves. She lunged to the left and hid behind a tree. The footsteps grew closer.

A lone man came into view. Emma caught her breath. He was wearing a long black trench coat. The vampire she'd killed last night had sported one just like it. Maybe they all shopped at the same store, Vampires «R» Us. She lowered her tote bag to the ground and retrieved one stake.

He came closer. He'd be easier to kill if he was feeding, but there were no victims nearby. Emma slipped the stake into her belt behind her back. She'd lure him in, using herself as bait.

She sauntered onto the path and gave the man an innocent look. "I think I'm lost. Do you know the way out of the park?"

The man halted and smiled. "I was hoping to find someone like you."

Right, someone to feed from. Damned bloodsucker. Emma widened her stance so she wouldn't lose her balance when he attacked. She reached behind her back and curled her hand around the stake. "I'm ready when you are."

"Okay!" The man untied the belt on his trench coat.

It was then that Emma noticed the hairy calves below the hem of his coat. Good heavens. He wasn't wearing any pants.