physician and geneticist. And Dr. Lee had offered great benefits and an outstanding salary. Because the Vamps wanted you.
She’d been drawn into this world on purpose. Fate . And she’d felt it the first time she saw him . Dougal. The Undead pervert who ripped arms off lifelike sex toys. She could almost hear her grandfather’s cackling laughter.
“Dougal!” Emma’s voice yelled in the hallway. “You shouldn’t go in there.”
Leah spun toward the door, her heart thudding.
“Angus told me about your prosthesis malfunctioning,” Emma continued. “I’ll explain it to Leah.”
Prosthesis? Leah’s thoughts raced as she searched her memory. The room had been dark, but she’d clearly seen the blood splatter across Dougal’s pale face and white shirt, the shocked expression on his face, and the bloody arm clutched in his hand. A metallic, bloodstained hand. A vampire with a prosthetic hand? And, apparently, a malfunctioning one. Did that mean the bloody assault had been nothing more than an accident?
When a deep voice responded, she stepped closer to the doorway.
“ . . . my fault. I should apologize. I frightened her out of her wits.”
She smiled to herself. He had pronounced out like “oot.” And his lilting accent sounded like sweet, soothing music. She slapped herself mentally. What was she thinking? That a vampire was attractive? His voice and handsome looks hardly made up for the fact that he was a bloodsucker. And why was she so eager to excuse the assault as a simple accident? He had looked like a wild man, his hair flying and his voice roaring in anger.
Her heart jolted when his large frame filled the open doorway, and his gaze immediately fixed on her. Green, expressive eyes that studied her intently.
He was even bigger close up. His navy polo shirt clung to every muscled contour of his chest and shoulders. He still wore his bright and colorful kilt, made of a green, black, and red plaid. Green knee socks hugged his muscular calves.
He stood with his feet wide apart and his hands at his sides. His right hand was gray and metallic. A series of tiny clicking noises emanated from it as he curled it into a fist. Was it strong enough to tear a real person’s arm off?
She eased back a step, then lifted her gaze to his face. To the injured look in his eyes.
“I doona blame you for being afraid of me,” he said softly. “But I willna harm you.”
She squared her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”
His eyes softened. His skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark whiskers lining his chiseled jaw and the long black hair brushed neatly back and tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck.
A wide brow, high cheekbones, strong chin, and an abundance of lean muscle in all the right places. He was the type of man who could actually be called beautiful and still be wonderfully masculine.
A shame he was dead.
A bigger shame that she found him so appealing. Vampire, she reminded herself. Strong and wild enough to rip a woman’s arm off.
She lifted her chin. “You were watching me on the cameras, weren’t you? Did you enjoy the show? Was my performance amusing?”
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Nay. I dinna enjoy it.” He stepped into the room. “But I thought ye were verra brave and strong.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest.
Emma walked into the room, pocketing her cell phone. “Well? Are you going to explain, or shall I?” she asked Dougal.
“I will.” He turned to Leah and lifted his right hand. “My hand locked on VANNA’s arm. The prosthesis wouldna obey my command to release. I dinna mean to tear her arm off. ’Twas an accident.”
That was a relief. Sorta. He had still reacted like a wild man. The volcano might be sleeping now, but who knew when he would erupt again? Leah’s eyes narrowed on his hand. “How do you command it to do things?”
He hesitated. “Mind control.”
She suppressed a shudder. He probably had the power to tamper with her mind like Dr.