Isabella left the tattoo shop, her back stinging slightly from six-hour ordeal. She pulled her leather jacket on and straddled her bike. Gripping the handlebars, she gazed through the shop window and caught Ashton’s eyes. He looked back at her, and their eyes locked for long moments.

She could hear his heart pounding, smell his arousal mounting, feel his fear and longing at the sight of her. When she’d shown him her breasts, she’d thought he’d come undone, but the coy cat just went back to business as usual.

She knew she had him cornered. Right where she wanted him. This game of cat and mouse was in effect. Just who was the mouse and who was the cat was still anyone’s guess. Isabella had her own hunger, just like the lion, and the smell of his blood made her tingle with desire.

Her pussy wept for him the entire time he pressed his sharp needle into her skin. She revved her motor, and their gaze broke. He turned away first. Damn him. This shifter had a stronger constitution than she’d expected. Far more than a human and even some vampires. Most men couldn’t resist her once she set her sights on them.

The shifter obviously wanted her. That much was clear, but his resistance to her vampiric charms frustrated her. He should have had her bent over the tattoo counter for all the pheromones she was pumping into the air.

Isabella pouted and peeled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She had a surprise for Daddy. The prodigal daughter had returned, and she intended to make his life as much of a hell as hers had always been. She hadn’t been asked to be born. She hadn’t asked to be a halfling bastard with a human mother.

She gritted her teeth as she sped up the coast and turned onto the smooth drive that led to her father’s estate. Manicured hedges lined the way, and she passed through the iron gates with her father’s family crest emblazoned above.

The house came into view. It wasn’t a house so much as a mansion, built in a Gothic style hundreds of years before. One of the oldest buildings in the state, the mansion was a monument. It rose four stories above her, with gilded turrets and parapets.

She saw a curtain drop closed, high above on the third floor. Her father’s study. She parked her motorcycle. The butler, Jensen, a sniveling vampire who did her father’s bidding, hurried down the stairs, his eyes covered in dark sunglasses.

“Madam, your father has been waiting for you all afternoon. Please come this way,” he said in a grasping voice.

She rolled her eyes and followed the little man. Unlike full-blooded vampires, Isabella could go without sun protection. She thought it an advantage. Too bad no one else did.

Inside the cool shadows of the house, she heard her father’s footsteps echo down the stairs. She looked up and saw him on the second floor balcony above the great front hall. Massive paintings of her ancestors covered the walls. It was all so drab and boring. If her father had his way, he’d keep her locked up here forever.

“Yes?” she asked, looking up at her father with a beguiling grin.

“Isabella, there is someone here I want you to meet,” Santiago said, his voice smooth as silk. Her father’s handsome pale face as beautiful and young as it had been for a thousand years. His shoulder-length black curls shimmered around his angular features.

A second man stepped out from the shadows above her and came into the dim light of the crystal chandelier that hung from the twenty-foot ceiling. He was handsome, beautiful in a way only a vampire could be. His marble skin glowed white with the inner fire of her race.

His cool black eyes shone down on her, his chiseled, masculine face a mask, his desires hidden. She raised an eyebrow at the new comer and pursed her lips.

“Hi,” she said with a curt little wave. The men walked down the stairs toward her as she stood by the intricately carved banister. She leaned against it, watching them walk toward her with effortless grace.

“This is Don Domingo Balcazar,” her father said, introducing his friend. Domingo smiled, showing his gleaming, sharp white teeth.

“Wazzup,” she said, playing it cool She knew what was coming. She could feel it. Daddy wanted to pawn off his halfling bastard on some vampire aristocrat. She wasn’t game.

“Come, Isabella, let us sit by the fire. Jensen will bring us a bottle of our finest vintage.” Santiago moved as if on the air. They entered the sitting room, which was draped in gold and red and the finest furnishings in Louis XIV style. 

She took a seat by the fireplace and soaked in the warmth. The bike ride home had been cool and damp. Not that she minded the weather all that much, but a nice blazing fire felt good on her cold flesh.

Santiago and Domingo sat opposite her, both of them eyeing her like a prized cow. Jensen brought the wine, and they all sipped from gold-plated, crystal goblets. Isabella set her glass beside her on an end table and peeled off her leather jacket. She turned sharply to lay the jacket over the back of her chair, her new ink visible on her back.

When she faced them, her father’s eyes were wide with anger. Domingo stared at her pert breasts that were unencumbered by a bra. She smirked at both their reactions. With the power firmly back in her court, she leaned back and crossed her legs, taking another sip of wine.

“I’ve wanted you to meet Domingo for some time, Isabella,” Santiago started, regaining his composure. “He is my second-in-command in the coven. It would be advantageous for you two to bond.”

“Advantageous for us to bond? What does that mean?” she said, gripping her glass.

“You are not a child anymore Isabella, and you are my only blood heir. You have responsibilities to the coven. It is time you start living up to your own name.”

“I never asked for this,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Domingo. Why did these people always do what her father wanted? Vampires could be so sniveling and grasping. She rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine.

“Regardless if you asked for it or not, darling, you’ve got it. You are the daughter of the High Lord of the Cascade coven. You have to take your position. There are vampires half your age with far greater responsibility than you. Here you are, a hundred years old and acting like you were just turned.”

“Well, father, as you know, I was never turned. I was born. I’m not one of your creations. I’m your daughter, and I’m half human.”

“Be that as it may, daughter, you will marry Domingo and have his child. It is your duty to take your place in the coven. Refusal will meet with a swift punishment. Believe me, child, you don’t want to cross me. I’ve been far too lenient with you for too long.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she said with a sigh, rising. She started toward the door when her father grabbed her arm.

“This isn’t a game, Isabella. This is about the future of our coven. I don’t take these things lightly. You will fulfill your role, or you will be no more. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I get it,” she said, pulling away. Anxiety strained her face as she regarded her father. Turning away, she hurried out of the room.