be naughty? Desire flooded back, and he clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her. It had been so long since he’d…He shoved the thought aside. He had to leave mortal women alone. He’d learned that in the most painful way possible.
She strolled down the aisle, touching the clothes as she passed by. “These are cool.” She stopped in front of an assortment of belts made of leather, brass, and silver.
“This is my first season to design belts.” He moved closer. Only mortal models could wear the belts made of silver. Simone and Inga stayed far away from anything that would burn their delicate skin. “What do you think?”
“They’re lovely. I especially like the big, chunky ones that rest on the hips.”
Click. Jean-Luc’s superior hearing picked up a sound. He held up a hand, and Heather hushed with a questioning look. A footstep, another click.
He’d never heard the door open or close. Only someone knowing the combination could open the door. A vampire teleporting in from outside the building would set off an alarm. So this person must have teleported from somewhere inside the building. His Vamp friends would have called out, so chances were the visitor was not a friend.
Jean-Luc raised a finger to his lips to warn Heather to remain quiet. He eased toward the end of the aisle and the center of the room. He peeked through the space between the clothes and long rod they were hanging from.
There he was. The old man with a cane. Click. He planted the cane on the hardwood floor, then shuffled his feet forward. He remained hunched over, his face hidden.
Jean-Luc sniffed. Heather’s aroma was behind him, definitely mortal, but he sensed nothing from this man.
The old man halted with a final click of his cane. “I know you are here, Echarpe.”
Jean-Luc stiffened. Mon Dieu, it was Lui. He hadn’t seen his most dreaded enemy in more than a hundred years.
“I am a patient man. I knew in time you would grow careless. And here you are, unarmed, without your precious bodyguards.” The old man straightened slowly, unfurling his spine. “You were impossible to reach in Paris. Surrounded night and day by half a dozen guards.” He lifted his chin.
Jean-Luc dragged in a deep breath when he saw the man’s eyes. Lui had assumed many identities over the centuries, always managing to look different. Except for the eyes. They were always dark, cold, and filled with hate.
Jean-Luc eased back to Heather as Lui continued to boast.
“You have made your last mistake, Echarpe. I went to the openings of all your stores, but you remained hidden like the coward you are. Now, at last, you have made an appearance. Your final appearance.”
Jean-Luc reached Heather and lifted a finger to his lips. She nodded with an anxious look.
He whispered in her ear, “Do not let him see you. Escape out the doors in the back. Run.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a finger pressed against her lips.
Go, he mouthed the word. He pushed her gently toward the opposite end of the aisle.
“Come out of hiding, you coward,” Lui shouted. “I have decided to kill you once and for all. I will miss having you around to torture, but Casimir has offered me an enormous sum. I could not refuse.”
Jean-Luc marched down the aisle toward the center of the room. “Zut alors, I thought you were dead. But no matter, you will be soon enough.” He was a better swordsman than Lui, but unfortunately, he was unarmed at the moment. He sent out a psychic message.
“I can hear you,” Lui sneered. “Whining to your friends to come and save you.”
Jean-Luc stepped into the clearing. “I fight my own battles. Tell me, how long did it take for you to recover from our last encounter? If memory serves, your guts were hanging out.”
With a growl, Lui twisted the knob on his cane and ripped the wooden sheath away from a slim, lethal foil. He tossed the wooden sheath aside, and it clattered on the floor. “Your friends will