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E leni sat at the bar, a glass of Pinot Noir in her hand as she perused the club’s male occupants. What would it be tonight? Young or old? Short or tall? Blond, brunette, or bald?

If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want any of them.

It was Saintcrow who piqued her interest. Why had she ever let him go?

He was strong and handsome and as stubborn as hell itself.

She still couldn’t believe he had endured her wrath rather than beg her to release him.

How much pain could he tolerate before he broke?

she wondered. It might be entertaining to find out.

She sipped her drink. The other vampire, Kincaid, was also remarkably attractive. And perhaps more easily managed than Saintcrow, who had not yet forgiven her for turning him. And likely never would.

There really was no decision to be made, she decided. She had sired Saintcrow. In the end, he could not refuse to obey her. Had she insisted he beg her to withdraw her power, he would have been compelled to do so. Eventually.

As for tonight, there was only one choice. Catching the eye of a tall, fair-haired young man, she spoke to his mind, calling him to her. He would make a pleasant diversion for the evening, she decided, as she watched him stride toward her.

And a tasty snack for later.