His gaze pinned her down, then swept over her, and he was gone. She was left staring at the back of his head. His dark hair was unfashionably short. No hair ornaments, as far as she could see. The cloying smell of roses was thick in the air, but she'd scented no perfume on him. He'd tasted like... a cool wind, rather. Even his skin was ivory, as if he didn't spend much time in the sun.

The leather thong she'd used to bind her hair had broken again. She had no coin for the cosmetics and jewelry that wealthy Roman women bought in droves. Her hands were roughened with calluses, and her wrists heavily bruised from sets of vampire bites. If she could only -

"Hail! Hail Gaius Flavius Varro Magnus! Hail!"

The babble of frenzied voices exploded into her consciousness. Her mouth dropped open. What on earth was she thinking? He was a monster, but she was acting as if she were a blushing virgin still.

Humiliation heated her cheeks. She'd heard about how vampires could entice their prey; she knew this fact better than most, but her shapeshifter blood had prevented her from falling victim to them.

Until now.