"I would have, but I wanted to see if ye would go through with it."
She closed her robe and tied the belt. "And now you're going to gloat because I failed."
"Nay, lass." His eyes glimmered with emotion. "I'm verra happy that ye passed."
She stiffened. "You were testing me?"
He sat up. "I wouldna want to be attracted to a murderer."
"I'm not a murderer. You are."
His eyes narrowed. "I have killed in the past for self-defense, but never for revenge. Unlike you."
He considered himself morally superior? Anger snapped inside her. She stood and slapped him.
"The devil take it, woman. Ye're trying my patience."
"You're trying mine. How dare you judge me? You're the one who's existed for centuries by exploiting people. I should have killed you when I had the chance."
His jaw clenched. "Ye never had a chance." He stretched his hands apart, and with a snap, the chain on the handcuffs broke.
With a small gasp, Emma stepped back. Humiliation seeped into her and increased her anger. Damn him. He could have escaped all along.
He kicked off his shoes, and the chain slipped to the floor. He stood to the side of the chain and lifted his cuffed wrists. "The key?"
She motioned to the key on the bedside table and walked away. Damn him. Arrogant bloodsucker. She strode into the living room, then stood by a window, peering out onto the street.
"Emma." His voice was soft behind her.
"Please go."
He stopped beside her at the window. "I doona want ye feeling like a failure. Personally, I was verra happy ye dinna kill me."
She glanced at his wrists and noted the handcuffs were completely gone. He was wearing his shoes once again. "You could have escaped at any time."
"And missed having ye sit on my lap in yer sexy knickers? Nay, I couldna have left, even with my life in the balance."
Did he really find her that attractive, or was he just humoring her? Probably the latter. She looked out the window. "I want you to stop seeing me."
With a sigh, he leaned against the wall. "And here I was, thinking ye might have grown to like me a wee bit."
She folded her arms across her chest. "I like you enough to make an exception for you and not kill you. But I can't let that stop me from slaying other vampires."
"Lass, how many times do I have to tell ye, ye canna do any more slaying."
"You can't tell me what to do. I expect you to respect my decision and let me live my own life."
His eyes blazed with anger. "Ye willna live a week!"
"It's none of your damned business!"
"Ye're the most stubborn woman I have ever known."
"I'll take that as a compliment since I'm sure you've known thousands."
His eyes narrowed. "You doona know what ye're up against." He glanced out the window. "Do ye see that building there?"
He was pointing at the tallest building across the street. Emma gasped when his arms suddenly surrounded her. "What are you—"
Everything went black, and she felt a swirling sensation around her. Her feet stumbled onto cold concrete, and she grabbed at his coat to steady herself.
"What?" She looked around. She was no longer in Austin's apartment.
"Look below." Angus stepped to the side.
She peered over the waist-high brick wall. The street was far below, at least fifteen stories. They were on the roof of the building Angus had pointed to. "You teleported us?" she whispered.
His arms enveloped her from behind. Slowly they rose into the air. Their feet cleared the wall.
"This is levitation," he whispered in her ear. "All I have to do is drop you over the wall."
"Stop it."
"Stop yer slaying."
She closed her eyes. "You just want to protect your own kind."
"Those murdering bastards are no' my kind." They dropped back onto the cement roof.
"I'm trying to save yer life."
She pushed away from him. "By dropping me off a roof?"
He glowered at her. "By showing ye how damned easy it is to kill you!" He marched away, muttering curses under his breath.
Emma stared at him. She'd always assumed his agenda was to save other vampires from her stakes, but now she wondered. Did he really care about her? She flinched when he pummeled a fist into the metal door that led to the stairwell. Even in the dark, she could see the dent he'd left behind.
"I'm sorry I frightened ye." He paced across the roof. "I just doona know how to get through to you."
"Why do you care what happens to me? Haven't you've seen thousands of mortals come and go?"
He stopped and looked at her. "I've never met a woman like you. Ye're different.
Ye're… like me." He shrugged with an embarrassed look. "Well, ye're a hell of a lot better looking than me."
Emma made a face. "You think I'm like a vampire?"
"Nay, ye're a warrior. Brave and relentless. Ye spend yer nights fighting evil."
"Like… you?" Her fantasy man. Except she'd always expected him to be alive 24/7. A chilly breeze ruffled her silk bathrobe and she shivered.
"Och, ye're cold." He strode toward her. "Shall I take ye back?"
"How do you do it?" She glanced over the waist-high wall to Austin's apartment building. "Do you simply look at a place and then go there?"
"Aye, or I can hear a voice and go. If it's a place I've been before, I can remember the way without a beacon."
"So, in just a few seconds, you could be in London or Paris?"
"Aye. Would ye like to see?"
She blinked. "Now? I'm not exactly dressed."
"Then I know exactly where to take ye." His arms enveloped her. "Will ye go out with me, Miss Wallace?"
"What? I—" She grabbed on to him. "This isn't a date."
He smiled slowly. "I believe it is."
Everything went black.
CHAPTER 8
Angus materialized in a familiar place—the Parisian office of Jean-Luc Echarpe. Emma stumbled, and he steadied her. An alarm went off, one that Angus had installed himself, that she couldn't hear. Jean-Luc heard it, though, for he jumped from his desk with a dagger pointed at them.
"Merde." He lowered the dagger. "You should warn me when you're coming."
The door burst open and Robby MacKay dashed in, his claymore drawn. "Och, tis you."
He hit a button by the door to turn off the alarm.
"Bonsoir, mademoiselle." Jean-Luc's gaze shifted to Emma. He looked her over curiously.
Angus kept an arm wrapped around her and gave his old friend a warning glare.
Jean-Luc responded with a slow smile. "Bravo, mon ami."
"Jean-Luc, Robby, this is Emma Wallace," Angus announced, keeping her close to his side. "Emma, this is Jean-Luc Echarpe."
"The famous fashion designer?" Her eyes widened. "Then we are in Paris?"
"Aye." Angus motioned toward the kilted Scotsman. "This is Robby, who works for me and guards Jean-Luc. He's something like a grandson."
"We forget how many greats should be in front." Robby bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, miss." He gave Angus a questioning look.
No doubt, they were wondering why he was teleporting about with a mortal woman. He was usually all business. "I… thought I'd take Miss Wallace on a picnic. Could ye find us a basket of food, Robby?"
Robby's mouth dropped open. "You? On a picnic?"
Jean-Luc chuckled. "Ask Alberto. He'll know what to do."
"Verra well." Robby left the room with a stunned expression.
Angus winced inwardly. They acted like he'd never courted a woman before. Well, it had been a century or two. And it wasn't like he was courting Emma for romantic purposes. He merely wanted to gain her friendship and trust so they could work together against their common foe.
Then why did he still have his arm around her, claiming possession? He released her.
"Miss Wallace needs… something to wear."