Oh God. He might actually be a vampire.
Shit! She should have taken him down while she had the chance. Emma strode toward the corner entrance to the park, then ran up the stairs to Fifth Avenue. Good heavens, Angus had seen her stakes. He had to know she was the slayer. He'd probably report her to all the other vampires.
She froze, her arm lifted to hail a cab. Cars zoomed by. Horns blared in the distance.
The clip-clop of horse hooves approached slowly from an open carriage. All the sounds of the city blurred as the full truth unfolded in her mind.
Angus knew who she was. Her nights of secretly slaying vampires and remaining anonymous were over. The vampires would want revenge. They'd want to kill her. Her quest to avenge her parents had just escalated to a new level.
She was at war.
CHAPTER 3
The devil take it. He'd screwed up royally.
Angus watched Emma cross the stone bridge, her stride quick and determined. Instead of convincing her to retire, he'd made her even more determined to use her bloody stakes. Roman and Jean-Luc were right. He was too hot-headed. But damn it all, it pissed him off that such a lovely young lass would place herself in so much danger. He suspected she was avenging more than the innocent mortals killed recently in Central Park. She was avenging her mother. That would explain her passion and determination, but even so, her behavior was suicidal. It was an idiotic, reckless thing to do, and yet there was nothing stupid or careless about Emma Wallace.
She was clever and quick. She possessed enough psychic power to detect his presence, though he'd managed to shield his thoughts and location from her. He'd never had to do that with a mortal before, which only gave further proof of how special she was. He had hoped reasoning with her would be enough, but she was so determined, it was going to be difficult to persuade her. He might have to pin her down just to get her to listen.