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and an old velvet cloak.
    Alexia pivoted slightly and, after a quick consideration, decided Lady Kingair was just lady enough to warrant the precedence, and said, “Lady Kingair, may I introduce our host, Lord Akeldama? Lord Akeldama, this is Sidheag Maccon, Alpha of the Kingair Pack.”
    Everyone waited a breath.
    “I thought as much.” Lord Akeldama gave a little bow. “Enchanted.”
    The female werewolf nodded.
    The two immortals evaluated each other. Alexia wondered if either saw beyond the outrageousness of the other’s appearance. Lord Akeldama’s eyes gleamed and Lady Kingair sniffed at the air.
    Finally Lord Akeldama said, “Perhaps you had best come in.”
    Alexia felt a surge of triumph at the achievement of such civilized discourse under such trying social circumstances. Introductions had been made!
    However, her pleasure was interrupted by a high-treble query from behind them. “Dama?”
    “Ah, I see
somebody
is awake. Good evening, my puggle darling.” Lord Akeldama turned away from his new acquaintance to look fondly down the corridor.
    Prudence’s little head poked out from the drawing room. Tizzy stood behind her, looking apologetic. “I
am
sorry, my lord. She heard your voices.”
    “Not to worry, my ducky
darling
. I know how she gets.”
    Prudence seemed to take that as an invitation and padded down the hallway on her little stubby legs. “Mama! Dada!”
    Lady Kingair, momentarily forgotten, was intrigued. “This must be my new great-great-great-aunt?”
    Alexia’s forehead creased. “Is that correct? Shouldn’t it be great-great-great-great-half sister?” She looked at her husband for support. “Immortality makes for some pretty peculiar genealogy, I must say.”
No wonder the vampires refuse to metamorphose those with children. Very tidy of them
. Vampires preferred to have everything in the universe neat. In that, Alexia sympathized with their struggles.
    Lord Maccon frowned. “No, I believe it must be something more along the lines of—”
    He never finished his sentence. Prudence, seeing that there was a stranger among her favorite people, andassuming that all who came into her presence would instantly adore her, charged Lady Kingair.
    “Oh, no,
wait
!” said Tizzy.
    Too late, Alexia dove to pick up her daughter.
    Prudence dodged through the legs of the adults and latched on to Lady Kingair’s leg, which was quite naked under the velvet cloak. In the space of a heartbeat, the infant changed into a small wolf cub, muslin dress ripped to tatters in the process. The cub, far faster than a toddler, went barreling off down the street, tail waving madly.
    “So that’s what
flayer
means,” said Sidheag, pursing her lips and arching her eyebrows. Her unnatural pallor was gone and the lines in her face were more pronounced—mortality had returned.
    Without even a pause, Lord Maccon stripped smoothly out of his full evening dress in a manner that suggested he had been practicing of late. Alexia blushed.
    “Well, welcome to London Town, indeed!” exclaimed Lord Akeldama, whipping out a large feather fan and fluttering it vigorously in front of his face.
    “Oh, Conall, really, in full view!” was Alexia’s response, but her husband was already changing midstride from human to wolf. It was done with a good deal of finesse. Even if it was done right there for all the world to see. Sometimes being married to a werewolf was almost too much for a lady of breeding. Alexia contemplated divesting Lord Akeldama of his fan—her face was quite hot, and
he
no longer possessed the ability to blush. As if reading her mind, he angled about so that he could fan them both.
    “That is a lovely fan,” said Alexia under her breath.
    “Isn’t it marvelous? From a little shop I discovered off Bond Street. Shall I order one for you as well?”
    “In teal?”
    “Of course, my blushing pumpkin.”
    “I do apologize for my husband’s behavior.”
    “Werewolves will happen, my pickled gherkin. One