Kerrelyn Sparks - How to Seduce a Vampire (Without Really Trying)

The brass helmet hit the tree hard, causing another gasp to escape the warrior. Zoltan pinned the man’s arms overhead and leaned close.

“Now cease your—” Zoltan stopped, taken aback by the eyes that glared at him. They were the bluest he’d ever seen. An improbable royal blue.

He moved to the side, just barely missing the man’s attempt to knee him in the groin. Still, the blow struck his hip hard, making him grunt in pain. Damn, what kind of warrior would go for a man’s groin?

He narrowed his eyes. The noises coming from the warrior had been a little high pitched. Could he be . . . ?

Zoltan released the man’s wrists and ripped the helmet off. Long black hair cascaded, falling past the warrior’s shoulders and framing a face that was delicate and feminine. An expression as stunned as his own. The helmet slipped from his hands, thudding on the ground at his feet, as he stood there, transfixed. She was exquisite. The most beautiful woman he’d—

“Aagh!” Her knee hit home, and Zoltan fell to his knees, doubling over.

She lunged to the ground to reclaim her sword.

“Dammit,” Zoltan growled as he seized one of her ankles and jerked her feet out from under her. She fell onto her side and rolled, lifting her sword overhead.

“Enough!” Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zoltan jumped on top of her, grasped her sword arm, and slammed it to the ground.

She went for his throat again with her left hand, but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it down. She wriggled beneath him, but he pressed his weight on top of her.

“Enough,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened, and she grew very still as she studied him.

He had a strange feeling she was assessing him. “How do you do? My name is Zoltan. And you are . . . ?”

She continued to stare at him.

“I’m afraid we got off to a bad start, but I assure you I mean you no harm.” He gently pried the sword from her hand and tossed it to the side. She didn’t object when he took hold of her wrist again. “Now that’s better. You were about to tell me your name . . . ?”

“You are extremely strong and fleet of foot,” she said softly, as if she was thinking out loud.

“So you do speak English.”

She frowned. “You are fair of face and seemingly intelligent.”

He winced. “Seemingly?”

“It is unclear.”

“Then allow me to clear it up for you. My intelligence is fine.”

She gave him a look that seemed to indicate he’d just proven his lack thereof. “It was not wise of you to come here.”

He snorted. At least she thought he was fair of face. “Actually, I thought it was very clever of me to find you.” Even if it had taken him eight hundred years. “I have some questions, you see, regarding an arrow—” He glanced toward the rocky outcropping where he’d left the arrow and froze.

A snow leopard crouched on the rocks, ready to pounce.

Slowly, never taking his eyes off the wildcat, Zoltan eased off the young woman and reached for her sword. “When I stand, back away. Then run home as fast as you can.”

“You intend to protect me?” she asked. “Why? I was trying to kill you.”

“Yes, but you failed.” He glanced at her, giving her a wry smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

Her eyes widened and she lay very still, staring at him.

Maybe he’d shoved her around too hard. She seemed stunned. He gave her a little shake. “You should go home now, okay? I’ll take care of this.” He’d protected people for almost eight hundred years, so it wasn’t something he questioned anymore. He simply did it.

He straightened, facing the pile of boulders with the sword clenched in his hands.

The snow leopard hissed.

“You’re very brave,” the woman said behind him.

“Seemingly,” he muttered, lifting the sword. “Now back away slowly.”

Pain exploded in his head as something slammed into the back of his skull. He fell forward, dropping the sword. Why? The word skittered around his aching brain just before everything went black.

“Good kitty.” Neona rubbed the young snow leopard’s ears. “Although I should fuss at you for breaking that twig. You ruined my surprise attack.”

The eight-month-old leopard butted its head against her leg.

“Well, you did make up for it, so you’re forgiven. That was very clever of you, pretending you were going to pounce on us.” She smoothed a hand down Zhan’s spotted back.

The snow leopard had become her companion after she’d found him seven months earlier while on guard duty. She’d taken the kitten home, where two of the women had been able to communicate with him. Zhan’s mother and littermates had been killed by a pack of wolves, and he had managed to survive by crawling into a rabbit hole.

Even though Neona didn’t possess the gift of communicating with animals, Zhan clearly preferred her to the other women. Probably because she was the one who had rescued him and nurtured him back to health. She suspected the cat still had enough wildness to dislike the other women’s ability to read his mind.

Right now, she wouldn’t object to having someone to communicate with. She had to decide what to do with the man who called himself Zoltan.

He was still lying on his stomach, unconscious. She winced at the size of the goose egg on the back of his head. She’d hit him hard with the blunt end of her knife, suspecting he possessed an extrahard head.

Her gaze drifted past his broad shoulders, down his back and legs. He had a powerful build, yet he was nimble on his feet. The way he had evaded her attack was amazing. He was an excellent specimen, as Winifred would put it.

Gently Neona turned the man over, and her heart squeezed in her chest. She’d called him fair of face, but that had been a huge understatement. She’d never seen such a handsome man in her life. Nor a man this fast and strong. The men who lived near their territory were either poor farmers or Buddhist monks, not the type of man who could sire a daughter who needed to be a warrior. And since the area was remote and snowed in half the year, outsiders were rare. A man like this Zoltan was extremely rare. Strong, fleet of foot, and incredibly handsome. When he had smiled at her earlier, she’d forgotten how to breathe.

What a beautiful daughter she could have. If only she dared. The daughter could inherit this man’s courage, too.

Kneeling beside him, she placed a hand on his broad chest. “He wanted to protect me even though I attacked him. He has a noble heart.”

The snow leopard butted her hand away with his head, and she smiled.

“Are you jealous? Don’t worry. Once I’m done with him, I’ll have to kill—” Her breath caught. How could she do that? It was one thing to kill a man in the heat of battle, but to lie with him and then kill him? That had to be wrong. Her mother, the queen, would disagree. She always said that nothing was more important than preserving the secrets of Beyul-La.

Neona closed her eyes as a wave of grief crashed over her. Her sister was more important than anything, but now she was gone. Minerva never would have taken a man’s seed and then killed him.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Neona made her decision. She would convince this man to leave and never come back. He might be hard to convince, given his questionable intelligence, so she would have to be firm. Threaten to kill him if she ever saw him again.

In order to succeed, she needed to remain in charge of this situation. After all, she was a warrior woman, so she could never submit to a man. Once he agreed, she would take what she needed, then send him on his way. She pulled a length of coiled rope from a drawstring pouch on her sword belt, then proceeded to tie the man’s hands together. Then she dragged him close to a tree and tied the end of the rope around the trunk.