What were they doing here? Only the king was rumored to have eyes as light in color as this animal. This couldn’t be him. Not in her ER.
Her “client” unfolded his over-six-foot muscular frame to stand, forcing her to look up. She wasn’t a shrimp at five- six, but he had many inches on her. His move to an onlooker may appear respectful, but he meant to intimidate her.
He extended a strong hand. “Eric Vorste.”
She glared at his hand. A public handshake was a symbolic truce. Doing so during this time of war was treason. Crystal, the vet tech, might not be a vampire, but under a vamp’s persuasion she’d tell. Her father’s minions checked up on Vee on a regular basis. They mind-wiped whomever they spoke with, but he’d find out about this.
Crystal sucked in a loud breath, clearly astonished at her rude reluctance.
Eric’s mouth curled into a smile at her dilemma. Vee lifted her lip, exposing her half-mast elongatedcanine. They both might be the product of centuries of evolution, but fundamentally, vamps and werewolves remained primal species. Everything about both of them was engineered to make them effective predators who valued strength.