Too scared to scream, she’d lain on the ground, covered in their blood, waiting for her own death as she looked up at the men in armor who were routing the few attackers who’d managed to run.

Dressed in his dull black armor that held a gold serpent emblem, the knight who’d killed her would-be rapists had quickly wrapped her in his fur-lined cloak and picked her up from the ground. Without a word to her, Velkan had carried her on the back of his destrier to his home, where he’d made sure she was well tended and fed.

She could still remember the sight of his fierceness, the raw power that had bled from every part of him. He’d worn a black basinet helm that’d been fashioned to look like a bird of prey so that it inspired fear in his enemies. And it had definitely scared her to the core of her soul.

She’d had no idea of his features until later that night when he’d come to check on her. But it wasn’t his handsomeness or his strength that had captivated her, it’d been his uncertainty around her. The fact that this man who’d been so intrepid and strong before the Turks had actually trembled when he reached out to touch her.

It’d been love at first sight.

Or so she thought.

Her heart aching from the memory, Retta curled her lip as she banished that memory and reminded herself that in the end Velkan had betrayed her and murdered her father. “I was young and stupid, and had no idea what I was letting myself in for. I thought he was a noble prince. I had no idea he was barely one step up from a monkey.” She grabbed the printed-out page that Francesca had brought to lunch from Yahoo! News. “I take that back and I deeply apologize to all the primates of the earth for insulting them. He’s not worthy of monkeydom. He’s a slimy slug trail.”

Francesca dipped her french fry into ketchup. “I don’t know, I think it’s kind of sweet that he keeps doing these stunts to get you to come see him.”

Yeah, right. “That’s not why he’s doing this. He’s trying to torture me and get back at my father. This isn’t about tender feelings. It’s about a man who’s ruthless. A man who, even after five hundred years, can’t let my family rest in peace. He’s an animal.” Sighing, Retta tossed the paper back to the table and reached into her purse for her Treo phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m booking a flight to Transylvania so that I can kill him in person. Then I’m going to stop these antics once and for all.”

Francesca snorted. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then make it two.”