Claws and Fangs.

By Laurann Dohner.

Scarred and Kilt.

Matty has a new neighbor, and she strongly suspects the kilt-wearing hottie is a vampire- he only goes out at night, has weird visitors and the blood bank is making regular deliveries. But he doesn't seem to hurt anyone, so "live and let live" is Matty's motto. Until she sees a guy armed with crosses and wooden stakes breaking into the neighbor's house. Matty charges to the rescue- and ends up in Mr. Hottie's bed...and on his desk...and...

Lacey and Lethal.

Lacey hunts vampires-vile monsters who leave death and shattered lives in their wake. They murdered her sister and she wants revenge. Until she captures a big, s.e.xy blue-eyed vamp, and the strong attraction she feels contradicts everything she's become. But she can't resist getting closer.

Lethal can't believe the little la.s.s got the better of him. He's been drugged and chained, but he's more insulted than concerned. She swears he's her enemy, but he's determined to be her lover.

Mine to Chase.

Jasmine met the guy of her dreams, who unfortunately wasn't interested. She's spent a year filled with l.u.s.tful fantasies and soul-deep yearning for a man who doesn't want her. Now she's locked away in a dark hole, kidnapped by a madman, her life almost over.

She was supposed to be his a year ago, but Chase had walked away to protect her from his world. He's a mixed-breed-vampire and werewolf-and his list of enemies is endless. His current mission is to hunt down and kill a rogue vamp who's preying on humans, but what Chase finds changes everything. Jasmine's one of the victims. Instinct demands he protect her, possess her. He won't be denied again. This time, she's his-for keeps.

Claws and Fangs.

Scarred and Kilt.

Chapter One.

He's back.

Matty leaned closer to the window, glanced at the clock on her nightstand table and realized he'd barely beaten the rising sun. Her focus returned to the house across the street as the man climbed out of the back of the limousine, his near-white braid trailing down his back to his waist, seeming to glow from the streetlamp.

He turned and bent down, talking to someone inside the black vehicle. She could hear his deep chuckle through her open window. His muscular arm braced on the roof of the car, thick biceps displayed in the black tank top he'd chosen that stretched across a broad chest.

"Have a good one," he told his ride home, the brogue as clear as the deep baritone of his voice.

It gave her the good kind of chills every time she heard it. He pushed the car door closed and glanced at the sky, before striding briskly toward his home. She loved the way he moved, with those broad shoulders and that manly grace.

Matty grinned while she studied the blue plaid kilt he wore. She never thought she'd find a guy wearing a skirt hot but that was before she'd glimpsed "Kilt". She'd dubbed him that since she didn't know his real name. She'd raided his mailbox a few times out of pure curiosity, but the only name on the junk mail had belonged to the old homeowner.

His legs, revealed under the material, were as muscular as the rest of him. He wore solid blue socks with black leather boots. It was an interesting look, but attractive. She'd glanced at photos of other men in kilts on the Internet. A lot of the men sported high-tops or tennis shoes. Kilt dressed more old fashioned in his footwear.

He'd moved in three months before and it had become a habit of hers to watch him whenever possible. He had become the most fascinating person on the block. She hated it when he unlocked his door to disappear inside. He kept all his curtains closed so she couldn't catch glimpses of him.

Lights turned on and off as he moved through the house. She knew where he'd go; it was always the same routine. The first two floors of the house went dark. She looked up and, sure enough, lights shone through the vent from the attic, barely noticeable unless someone was looking for it. He slept there during the day.

I have it bad for a guy who I'm pretty sure is a vampire.

The thought made her back away from the window. She normally wouldn't believe in such things but it made sense. She'd never seen him during the daytime. He never answered his door while the sun shone, only seemed awake at night, and he always made it home before dawn. It would account for his occasional weird evening visitors too. Most of them dressed strangely from various time periods.

He could have a rare allergy, one of those people sickened by the sun, but she'd noticed the white van making deliveries every Monday and Friday. She'd called in a favor with her friend at the police department to run the plates-and it had been registered to a blood bank.

It all fit, and the facts seemed clear.

She remained seated in her chair, waiting for the sun to rise, and knew she'd go to bed soon. Matty had her own reasons for keeping the hours she did. She'd let her guard down once during the night and now the darkness frightened her.

Dawn broke and the sky pinkened with streaks as she watched. She stood, stretched her arms high and twisted her hips a little to alleviate the stiffness from sitting too long.

A black van pulled up to the curb across the street and she frowned. It wasn't one she'd seen before. Where they parked, it could mean they planned to visit her house or Kilt's, but neither was feasible. No one ever came to see her, and anyone who knew him wouldn't arrive after the sun rose. It was also too early for it to be someone trying to sell something.

She stepped back into the shadows, watching as a man climbed from the driver's side. He opened the sliding back door behind the driver's seat and leaned in. Matty grabbed her binoculars and could make out the interior of his van.

The guy had crosses, two long wooden stakes, and what appeared to be a squirt gun of the gallon-sized variety that kids loved to play with during the summer.

Oh s.h.i.t.

Kilt seemed to have been discovered by someone who obviously intended to do him harm. She watched as the stranger wedged the stakes and crosses between his pants and belt, then hoisted up the plastic weapon she suspected held holy water. The van door slammed closed and the man studied Kilt's house. He crept toward the side gate.

Matty bit her lip. She shouldn't interfere...but she liked to watch her neighbor. He hadn't ever bothered her, no one on the block had disappeared, and he wouldn't have blood delivered if he were a killer. He'd be getting it for free by attacking people.

"d.a.m.n," she muttered, rushing to her nightstand.

She grabbed the Taser gun, not wanting to kill anyone. Then reconsidered and took the handgun too. It could be deadly to face off against someone who might have one, only holding something that didn't fire bullets herself. It was better to be safe than sorry.

The small screwdriver she kept to change the batteries on her remote came with her, then she jogged out of her room and down the stairs. It only took seconds to tap in her code to shut down the alarm and open the front door.

Hesitation struck. Some of her early rising neighbors might look out a window and spot her. Memories surfaced of when she'd allowed that to happen in the past. They weren't good ones. Her gaze fixed on the van though, and she exited the house, closing the door behind her. Vanity wasn't worth Kilt dying. She had to do something.

The gra.s.s chilled her bare feet as she jogged across her lawn, then the paved street, only stopping when she reached Kilt's front porch. One darted glance around revealed how empty of life the other houses seemed to be. No one stared or came out to see what she was doing. She bent, staring at his door handle.

The locks were flimsy and she doubted he even had an alarm system. Any security company would have strongly suggested he upgrade them. She grimaced. It was stupid not to use technology to help keep himself safe, but maybe he didn't want responders coming to his home if his security system was ever triggered. There wasn't even a deadbolt. She used the screwdriver to stab into the crack between the door and jamb. It took a little wiggling but she managed to pop it open. She pushed on the door, stepping inside.

Yeah, I'm definitely going to have a talk with my neighbor about his cheap taste in hardware. I might as well, since I've pretty much appointed myself the neighborhood watch. She glanced around, closed the door behind her and sprinted up the stairs. The intruder was probably still trying to work his way into the house. They were all similar models on this block, so she felt she knew Kilt's house almost as well as her own. The intruder would have to either figure out how to remove the family room's slider from its track or break a window, if he couldn't find one unlocked. She doubted he'd be brave enough to smash gla.s.s, for fear of drawing attention to his trespa.s.sing from nearby homeowners.

She avoided the bedrooms, sure Kilt wouldn't be there, and strode to the end of the hallway. She hesitated when her fingers touched the handle to the attic door. Every vampire movie she'd ever seen flashed through her head, and she drew back. No way would she invade his sleeping s.p.a.ce. Her neighbor could attack her.

She spun instead, stepped into the laundry area and waited.

The bedrooms all had thick curtains, the doors open, but hardly any light filtered into the second floor. Her ears strained and she heard someone coming up the stairs a few minutes later. The stranger had a heavy tread, breathed loudly as if he'd done something to get a workout, and her hand gripped the gun she'd shoved inside her robe pocket. Her fingers curved around metal. The weight comforted her as she slid her other hand into the matching pocket, grabbing the stun gun. Prepared for anything. That's me.

A light clicked on near the stairs, illuminating the hallway. She hesitated before inching forward. She peeked around the doorway to watch the stranger disappear into the first room closest to the stairwell, and she tiptoed down the hallway. She pressed against the wall next to the bedroom he searched, and waited.

The closet jerked open inside the bedroom, the guy obviously looking for Kilt, and he softly cursed. Matty's hand tightened on the b.u.t.ton of the stun gun, her other hand ready to jerk out the handgun if needed. The shadow moved on the floor as the man stalked closer. Her heart pounded but she had surprise on her side.

She lunged as the shadow grew larger.

The guy startled when he faced Matty. His brown eyes widened as he stared at her face. She shoved the stun gun at him. The metal bars touched the guy just as she pushed the b.u.t.ton.

The repet.i.tive clicking noise seemed to create a beat for the stranger to dance to as his body began to shake and twitch, and she watched him pale. His arm shot out while he jerked around. He struck her face, but it didn't hurt. She pulled away quickly but kept her arm outstretched. She didn't ease up on shocking him until the guy collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

A few long seconds ticked by as she watched him to make certain he wasn't faking it. She stepped over his body. Her gaze swept the room and landed on the drape ties hanging uselessly from the wall. She retrieved them, returned to the intruder, and used her foot to roll him over.

His limp body flopped onto his belly. She crouched, braced her knee on his a.s.s, and quickly tied his wrists behind his back. She returned to the wall to remove a second set of drape ties. It didn't take long to yank up each of his ankles, and she hogtied him tightly before removing all his weapons.

She tossed the crosses, his plastic water weapon, and both stakes toward the window. It wasn't easy, but she pushed him onto his side. Sliding her hands over his body, she found a knife hidden inside an ankle strap. He also kept a folding knife stashed in the front pocket of his shirt. She tossed those into the pile too. Matty let him drop onto his stomach and rose to her feet.

A quick study of her handiwork a.s.sured her the guy wouldn't be going anywhere without someone untying him. Now she had to decide what to do with him. It would be bad to call the police. She'd broken into the home herself. They would also search every inch of the house and find the sleeping vampire. She couldn't allow them to find Kilt.

"d.a.m.n," she whispered.

The only option would be to leave the guy there and hope he didn't wake and somehow get free. It was also possible he'd start yelling for help and a neighbor might hear him. The cops would come, and again, Kilt would be found. The whole point of saving him from dying would be for nothing.

Her last option would be to wait with the jerk on the floor until her braided neighbor woke. She could stun the jerk if he began to yell, keeping him quiet. Then again, Kilt might not be thrilled to find two unwelcome visitors inside his home. It was possible he might feel the need to kill her for the trouble she'd gone to.

It was a difficult decision. She backed away and glanced around the room again. The desk beckoned, and she approached it. Maybe it would give her a clue as to just how dangerous or harmless Kilt actually was.

He didn't have anything personal inside the drawers, no bills stated his name, and no letterhead on his print paper. She turned on his computer but it was pa.s.sword protected. Her disappointment rose. She wanted to find out something about her mysterious, hunky neighbor, knowing she'd never get another opportunity to be inside his home, but this idea had been a bust.

Matty decided to return home, put on actual clothes, and lock up her house. She'd sit with the stranger for a while and keep him quiet. It was possible when he woke that she could scare him, possibly convince him it was her home instead of Kilt's. Once she opened the curtains and stood in the sun, he'd realize she wasn't a vampire. A threat of having him arrested might send him fleeing. As long as she was back home safe before the sun set, her neighbor wouldn't be any kind of danger to her.

She turned to leave-but something blocked the bedroom door.

Her mouth fell open as Kilt stepped into the room wearing just the blue plaid kilt, a big, dangerous-looking sword gripped in his hand. His blue eyes were striking as they shifted away from the intruder and met her stare. A frown curved his firm lips but he didn't speak. His unbraided hair had obviously just been washed, the damp strands flowing down his muscular chest to his waist. Drops of water dotted his tan skin as if he'd just jumped from the shower.

Mute, Matty gawked at the bronzed G.o.d who silently watched her. His sword lowered when she met his gaze again. His intense eyes fascinated her. It's probably not a good idea to stare into them in case movies are right and he can control my mind. She still didn't glance away. He wouldn't be calmly standing there watching her if he wanted to do harm. He'd have attacked already.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze roamed down her body, and he took a step closer. "Who are you and what are you doing inside my home?"

She cleared her throat. "Um, I live across the street. I saw that dirtball park in front of your house and realized he meant to break in. I'm kind of the neighborhood watch." Her ratty robe embarra.s.sed her. He probably thought she was insane. "I'm not with him."

"Did you call the police?"

She hesitated in answering. It was possible he wanted to know if help was coming before he used that sword. It would be difficult for him to explain a b.l.o.o.d.y mess and two dead bodies to armed officers. Then she remembered that she wasn't defenseless. The weapons she'd brought were rea.s.suring weights against her legs in her robe pockets. "No."

"You tied him well. Thank you."

She loved his husky voice and the accent was flat-out hot. So was he, with his handsome good looks. The danger factor actually made him s.e.xier. A real vampire stood feet away-and seemed grateful to her.

A real vampire. She resisted the urge to faint. She'd been half joking, but the laugh was on her.

"I'd like to repay you. Name what you want."

She hadn't dated in the five years since her attack, and it definitely made her lonely. It had also made her socially challenged. She was aware of that, even if the one thing that came to mind wouldn't have been wrong to ask of him.

She shook her head, refusing to ask him to show her what he wore under that kilt, despite the curiosity she'd had since she'd laid eyes on him. Totally inappropriate and don't go there.

"I should be going home now. I'll leave you to deal with your intruder."

Chapter Two.

Blaron regarded the woman, inhaling the scents inside the room. The hunter on the floor wore cheap, offensive cologne and stank of sweat and fear. It nearly masked the sweeter, tempting feminine fragrances of his neighbor. He hadn't seen her before but he believed her reason for being there. His gaze traveled down her well-worn robe, her shapely legs peeking from beneath the thigh-length material, and her bare feet. She wouldn't have gone far dressed that way.

Her face intrigued him. A scar ran down the side of her jaw, another at her temple, and at her cheek near her ear. They didn't distract from her delicate, attractive features. Her big blue eyes stared at him with a mixture of awe and wariness. He didn't pick up fear coming from her but her heart raced. He could hear the fast beat, tormenting him just a little. He wasn't hungry but she tempted him all the same.

He'd been showering, oblivious to the happenings inside his home until he'd turned the water off. The noise of someone moving around the floor below him had been alarming. The hunter surprised him-Blaron had been careful to hide his ident.i.ty-but the female stunned him. He knew humans fought crime by watching their neighbors' homes, but he'd never thought a woman would take on a criminal in her bathrobe. Most would dial for the police.

She had mentioned being the neighborhood watch. That meant she must have some sort of surveillance to have seen the hunter. It worried him that his senses had failed to notice her scrutiny.

She took a hesitant step toward him, her intent to flee, but he didn't budge from blocking the doorway. He wasn't allowing her to leave until he a.s.sessed the threat she posed to his future safety. It was odd that she hadn't called for a.s.sistance.

His study switched to the hunter on the floor.

The male lay on his side by the bed, awake now, his arms and feet bound at the center of his back and his terrified gaze on Blaron. He noticed the pile of weapons, and his lips pressed firmly together. The male had intended to kill him.

He glared at his enemy. "Who are you?"

"I have friends," the guy whined. "They will come, evil demon." The guy twisted his head to shoot a murderous glare at the woman. "They'll kill your minion too."

Confusion made Blaron frown. "My what?"

The hunter jerked his head at the woman. "Her. Your lover who guards you while you're in your death sleep. Release me, son of Satan! It's my duty to send you back to h.e.l.l!"

He hid a wince, glanced at the woman, and knew he couldn't just allow her to stroll out of his home. She'd seen and heard too much. "Good luck with that, hunter. You're the one who has been caught."

"My friends will come, and they'll kill you and that hideous b.i.t.c.h who feeds you! I can see why she'd sink so low as to protect a monster. She's one too."

Blaron instantly noticed how the woman's features paled. She lowered her head to allow some of her curly blonde hair to drop forward to hide the worst of her scars, and her shoulders sagged a little.

Anger hit him instantly that the insulting words had made her courageous spirit withdraw. Only a strong female would attack a larger male and come to a neighbor's defense, both of which she'd done for a stranger. He admired her for that. She was probably sensitive about her flaws, and he moved before he allowed his temper to cool. His bare foot nailed the rude b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the side.

The hunter gasped from the pain. The sharp kick knocked him against the bed and he blacked out.