“Right,” I say. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to forgo that particular pleasure. And I’ll treat you with more respect when you start treating me with more respect. This is my place of business—don’t come in here and insult my intelligence.” I may not like running this stupid shop but I know my stuff cold and I’ll be damned if I let him say otherwise.

To my surprise, Aiden James suddenly stops looking scary and vampiric and nods a little stiffly. He takes a deep breath and his next words genuinely surprise me. “Very well, I will admit that it was rude of me to disparage your knowledge.”

“Thank you,” I say, nodding.

“I can see you know what you’re talking about. You’ve saved me from a very costly error, Ms…”

“Emma,” I say grudgingly. “Emma Krist.” I wonder how he can be out in the daylight. The gold and onyx ring on his right hand catches my eye again, must be magic—heavy duty magic too, to pull off something like this. A vampire with access to high-level sorcery—great. My little bottle of magical mace would probably bother him as much as a gnat bothers an elephant. Slowly I release my grip on it and place both hands on the counter.

“Very well, Ms. Krist, you’ve earned my respect.” He looks at me speculatively. “And my interest. Forgive me for being rude, I’m very preoccupied just now.” He puts out his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “We are well met on this Sacrifice Eve.”

I don’t really want to shake his hand but I don’t see that I have much choice. Reluctantly, I hold out my own hand. “Well met, indeed,” I say, giving the ritual response. Or that’s what I start to say as his hand closes over mine.

But as the vampire's much larger hand engulfs my own, I feel a strange tingle that runs down my arm and gives me a most uncomfortable jolt. My heart starts to hammer and I jerk my hand away from him. What the hell…?

Aiden James must have felt it as well because he looks from his hand to my face and back again, as if trying to figure out what just happened. Well if he finds out, I wish he’d let me know. I’ve never felt such power from anyone before, not even my Aunt Cassandra and she’s a senior witch and the mistress of our coven.

The vampire studies me, his gray eyes narrowed. “You know,” he says at last. “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“About…about what?” I ask, wishing my voice didn’t sound quite so breathless.

“About this…all this.” He waves one hand negligently at the packets of dried herbs strewn over the countertop. “I don’t think I need to make this potion after all.”