"Are all these people vampires?" she whispered.
"No, they're just pretending," he replied. "All but that small dark-haired guy in the corner."
"What about that girl over there? She has fangs."
"They're fake."
"How do you know?"
"I just know."
Roshan found a table in the corner and he ordered drinks, a strawberry daiquiri for Brenna, wine for himself.
"Do you come here often?" she asked.
He nodded. "I can be myself here. No one suspects my true nature. Here, I'm just another wanna-be vampire playing a role. Come," he said, "let's dance."
She shook her head but he paid her no mind. Taking her by the hand, he led her onto the dance floor.
"I cannot," she said, glancing at the other couples. She tried to pull her hand from his, but to no avail.
"Trust me," he said, and drew her into his arms.
Never before had she danced with a man. Never before had she realized how pleasurable it could be. Though she didn't know any of the steps, Roshan held her so closely she had no trouble following his lead. The music seeped into her, a low, steady beat that echoed the beat of her heart, a slow, sensual rhythm that made her think of the heated kisses she had shared with Roshan earlier. His arm was strong and sure around her waist; his body brushed against hers as they moved in a slow circle around the dance floor. The other couples faded into the distance until she was aware of nothing but the music and the tall, dark man holding her in his arms. His lips moved in her hair, his breath fanned her cheek. She risked a glance at his face and saw her own need mirrored in the depths of his eyes.
In her time, there had been those who considered dancing a sin, a prelude to all manner of lasciviousness. Being in Roshan's arms, swaying back and forth, she was all too aware of his body against hers, of the sensual heat that flowed between them.
He met her gaze, his deep blue eyes almost hypnotic in their intensity. She could see nothing but him, wanted no one but him. She leaned into him, feeling as though she was being drawn into his very soul.
She reminded herself that he was a vampire, that there was no way they could have a life together, and that even though she was attracted to him like no other, it would never work, but somehow, with his arms around her, none of that seemed to matter.
It took her a moment to realize the music had ended. Roshan smiled down at her, the affection in his eyes warming her clear to her toes.
The music changed, becoming hard and fast. Taking her by the hand, Roshan led her off the dance floor.
They were on their way back to their table when someone called her name.
"Brenna Flanagan, is that you?"
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Anthony Loken striding toward her. Roshan's hand tightened on hers as his steps slowed, stopped.
"Good evening, Mr. Loken," she said politely.
"Anthony," he reminded her with a smile. "It's wonderful to see you again."
"Thank you." She looked up at Roshan. "This is the man I told you about, remember?"
"Ah, yes, I remember," Roshan said, his voice cool.
Loken stuck his hand out. "You must be the competition," he said, grinning good-naturedly. "It's nice to meet you."
Roshan took Loken's hand, felt the unspoken challenge in the other man's grip. "Loken." Roshan had never met a warlock before but he could sense the other man's power. It crawled over his skin like dead leaves over a freshly turned grave.
Releasing Loken's hand, Roshan took a step back. "Come, Brenna."
She smiled fleetingly at Loken. "It was nice to see you again."
"And you."
Roshan guided Brenna back to their table, acutely aware of the other man's gaze on his back. Was it mere coincidence that Anthony Loken was here tonight, Roshan wondered. And yet, what else could it be? Bringing Brenna here had been his own decision, reached only a few hours ago. There was no way Loken could have known Brenna would be here, and yet…
He didn't know who or what Anthony Loken was, but he was more than a mere witch. Much more.
Their drinks were waiting when they returned to their table. When they were seated again, Brenna looked at Roshan, her expression troubled. "You are angry with me."
"No. But I want you to stay away from him."
"Why?"
"There's something not right about him."
"Not right?" A strange accusation, she thought, coming as it was from a vampire! "What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure. Just stay away from him."
Her chin went up defiantly. "You are not my father, Roshan DeLongpre. You cannot tell me what to do or who to see, or expect me to spend my days waiting for you to rise. Mr. Loken offered to be my friend, nothing more."
It didn't matter that she had already told Anthony that she couldn't see him again. She would not let Roshan tell her who she could and couldn't see. In the last few weeks, she had read a number of women's magazines, watched Oprah and The View. While the well-dressed women on television discussed much that Brenna didn't fully understand, one thing she had learned was that the women in this century demanded equality in every facet of their lives. Brenna smiled inwardly. Granny O'Connell would have been proud of her for speaking her mind, for demanding that she be treated as an equal.
A muscle twitched in Roshan's jaw. It hadn't taken Brenna long to assert her independence, he thought irritably. A few weeks of living in the twenty-first century and she was ready to take on the world. Life had been easier when women did as they were told.
Drawing on his preternatural powers, he leaned forward, his gaze capturing hers. "You will not see him again." He kept his voice low and hypnotic as he endeavored to bend her will to his.
Brenna stared back at him, her eyes narrowing as she drew on her own power to resist the enthralling sound of his voice, the mesmerizing look in his dark eyes. Focusing her energy, she threw it out toward him, parrying his hypnotic thrust as a swordsman might ward off the blow of a rival. "I will see whoever I wish, whenever I wish."
Roshan swore under his breath. Even as a young vampire, he had been able to compel others to do his will when it suited him. Why was it that this slip of a girl had the power to thwart him when no one else did? Were her own powers that strong, or was it just that she was the most hard-headed, stubborn woman he had ever met?
"The man is evil," Roshan said. "Can't you feel it? See it?"
She glanced in Anthony Loken's direction and then back at Roshan. The warlock looked like an angel of light with his close-cropped blond hair and sky blue eyes, while Roshan looked like the Dark Prince of legend with his long black hair and midnight blue eyes.