Awakening the Fire - By Ally Shields Page 0,3

older. Awareness of him filled all the available space.

Whoever he was—she hadn’t forgotten he didn’t answer the question—his continued watchfulness made Ari uneasy. She moved her hand closer to her dagger. Although blood hunting was strictly forbidden, with a penalty of immediate execution, she didn’t trust any vampire to play by the rules.

His lips curved under her scrutiny, a hint of amusement reaching his dark eyes. Humor? That surprised her. As their humanity fell away, vampires usually took on a distinctive look: cold, predatory, reptilian. Except for the newborns, and this guy didn’t feel that newly minted.

In a rare flash of vanity, she wondered what he thought of her. The long, dark blonde hair wasn’t very witchy. And her five-five frame was more boyish than curvy. But the long-lashed green eyes? All witch, and her best asset. Great-Gran’s eyes. Her mother’s eyes. Ari jerked herself back from this weird train of thought. What was the matter with her? This wasn’t a hot-looking date.

Whatever was going on behind the vampire’s hooded eyes, he kept it to himself. He made no overt aggressive moves, simply stood there. Wasn’t that typical predator behavior? Lure the unwary into a sense of safety? Well, he could forget it. Wrong prey, bloodsucker.

She took the initiative. “I know what you are, but I’ll ask again, who are you? What are you doing here?”

He moved then, gliding forward. She was startled when he bowed with all the grace of an old world aristocrat. It didn’t quite fit the jeans and T-shirt. “Andreas De Luca, at your service, madam witch. And you are…?”

“Arianna Calin. Guardian for Olde Town.” She hesitated, then stuck out her hand. She really didn’t want him touching her, but getting along with both the human and magic communities was part of the job.

He accepted the gesture, grasping her hand in long, cool fingers. Ari felt a spark of energy, but its relative neutrality told her how good he was at controlling his magic.

“Arianna.” With his eyes never leaving her face, he repeated the word, his voice rolling it around. “Not exactly a Romani name.”

“No, should it be?” Her gut clenched at his unexpected remark. How much did this vampire know about the Calin family of witches? About her?

As if she’d spoken aloud, he said, “Your great-grandmother was the witch Talaitha. The last great fire witch in this region.” His smile said he knew he’d surprised her. “Talaitha is a Romani name.”

How did he know that? What right did he have to use her name so freely? Ari was tempted to confront him, but it would have confirmed what might be a guess on his part. Talaitha was one of Ari’s given names. An ancient name. Since the old names held power in her world, she was reluctant to share it. Especially with a vampire.

Andreas De Luca examined the hand he continued to hold. His fingers were inches away from Ari’s silver bracelet. Although he didn’t make direct contact with the trinket, he didn’t act bothered by the sight or presence of the charms, most of which were considered dangerous or at least harmful to vampires. The miniature silver cross, the vial of holy water, the protection stones. Ari lifted a brow. Interesting reaction.

“These slim fingers have inherited Talaitha’s gift for fire,” he said, using her great-grandmother’s name again, as if he knew it bothered her. “A rare and coveted talent.” His smile broadened, bringing charm to his attractive face, and he lifted Ari’s fingers to his lips in a brief kiss. Before she had a chance to react to this unexpected gallantry, he turned her hand over and nipped the palm with wickedly sharp teeth.

“Ouch!” She snatched it back, leaped away, and glared at him. Her witch senses flared with a rush of hot energy that ran to her fingertips. Ari clenched them into fists.

His rich laughter rang out. The real thing, no magic this time. Grinning, he threw up his hands as if to ward off retaliation. It defused the moment.

“It’s not funny,” she snapped, getting herself under control. Unclenching her fingers, she stared at the small drop of blood that welled from the broken skin. Her brain warred between anger and a strong desire to get the hell out of there.

“You are too tempting.” A hint of teasing entered his voice. “Such smooth skin. And sweet-smelling blood.” He ruined the milder tone by widening his grin to show a glimpse of fang.

Ari scowled. If he was trying to freak her out, it was