“What the hell-?” he muttered, pulling back.

I smiled. “Surprise!” And then I struck.

It would have been a killing blow, but Liam was faster than I anticipated. He swept my feet out from under me just as I jabbed, so my silver missed his heart by inches. Instead of attempting to regain my stability, I let myself drop, rolling away from the kick he aimed at my head. Liam moved in a streak to try it again, but then jerked back when three of my throwing knives landed in his chest. Dammit, I’d missed his heart again.

“Sweet bleedin’ Christ!” Liam exclaimed. He quit pretending to be human and let his eyes turn glowing emerald while fangs popped out in his upper teeth. “You must be the fabled Red Reaper. What brings the vampire bogeyman to my home?”

He sounded intrigued, but not afraid. He was more wary, however, and circled around me as I sprang to my feet, throwing off my jacket to better access my weapons.

“The usual,” I said. “You murdered humans. I’m here to settle the score.”

Liam actually rolled his eyes. “Believe me, poppet, Jerome and Thomas had it coming. Those thieving bastards stole from me. It’s so hard to find good help these days.”

“Keep talking, pretty boy. I don’t care.”

I rolled my head around on my shoulders and palmed more knives. Neither of us blinked as we waited for the other to make a move. What Liam didn’t know was that I was aware he’d summoned for help. I could hear the ghoul creep quietly closer toward us, barely disturbing the air around him. Liam’s chattering was just to buy time.

He shook his head in apparent self-recrimination.

“Your appearance should have warned me. The Red Reaper is said to have hair as red as blood, gray eyes like smoke, and your skin…mmm, now there’s the real distinction. I’ve never seen such beautiful flesh on a human before. Christ, girl, I wasn’t even going to bite you. Well, not the way you’re thinking.”

“I’m flattered you want to fuck me as well as murder me. Really, Liam, that’s sweet.”

He grinned. “Valentine’s Day was just last month, after all.”

He was forcing me toward the door and I let him. Deliberately I pulled my longest knife from my pants leg, the one that was practically a small sword, and switched it with my throwing knives in my right hand.

Liam grinned wider when he saw it. “Impressive, but you haven’t seen my lance yet. Drop your trappings and I’ll show you. You can even keep a few knives on, if you’d like. Would only make it more interesting.”

He lunged forward, but I didn’t take the bait. Instead I flung the five knives in my left hand at him and whirled to avoid the blow from the ghoul behind me. With a single swipe that reverberated through my arm, I sent the blade into the ghoul’s neck with all my strength.

It came out on the other side. The ghoul’s head rotated on its axis for a moment, wide eyes fixed on mine, before it plopped to the ground. There was only one way to kill a ghoul, and that was it.

Liam yanked my silver knives out of him as if they were merely toothpicks.

“You nasty bitch, now I’m going to hurt you! Magnus has been my friend for over forty years!”

That signaled the end to the bantering. Liam came at me with incredible speed. He had no weapons except his body and his teeth, but those were formidable. Liam pounded his fists into me, and I retaliated with punishing blows. For several minutes, we just hammered at each other, knocking over every table and lamp in our path. Finally he threw me across the room, and I crashed near the unusual art piece I’d admired. When he came after me, I kicked out and knocked him backward into the display case. Then I tore the sculpture off the wall and chucked it at his head.

Liam ducked, cursing when the intricate artwork broke into pieces behind him.

“Don’t you have any bleedin’ respect for artifacts? That piece was older than I am! And how in the blazes did you get eyes like that?”

I didn’t need to look to know what he was talking about. My formerly gray gaze would now be glowing as green as Liam’s. Fighting brought out the proof of my mixed heritage that my unknown vampire father had left me.

“That bone puzzle was older than you are, huh? So you’re what, two hundred? Two fifty? You’re strong then. I’ve skewered vamps as old as seven hundred who didn’t hit as hard as you do. You’re going to be fun to kill.”

God help me, but I wasn’t kidding. There was no sport when I just staked a vampire and let my team sweep up the remains.

Liam grinned at me. “Two hundred and twenty, poppet. In pulseless years, that is. The other ones weren’t good for anything but poverty and misery. London was a sewage back then. Looks much better now.”

“Too bad you won’t be seeing it again.”

“I doubt that, poppet. You think you’ll enjoy killing me? I know I’ll love fucking you.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” I taunted.

He flew across the room-too swiftly for me to avoid him-and delivered a brutal blow to my head. It made light explode in my brain and would have put a normal person right into the grave. Me, I’d never been normal, so while I fought nausea, I also reacted quickly.

I went limp, letting my mouth hang open and my eyes roll back as I dropped to the ground with my throat temptingly tilted upward. Near my relaxed hand was one of the throwing knives he’d pulled from his chest. Would Liam kick me while I was down, or see how badly I was hurt?

My gamble paid off. “That’s better,” Liam muttered, and knelt next to me. He let his hands travel over my body, and then he grunted in amusement.

“Talk about an army of one. Woman’s wearing a whole bloody arsenal.”

He unzipped my pants in a businesslike manner. Probably he was going to strip me of my knives; that would be the smart thing. When he pulled my pants past my hips, however, he paused. His fingers traced over the tattoo on my hip that I’d gotten four years ago, right after I left my old life in Ohio behind for this new one.

Seizing my chance, I closed my hand over the nearby dagger and drove the knife into his heart. Liam’s shocked eyes met mine as he froze.

“I thought if the Alexander didn’t kill me, nothing would…”

I was just about to deliver that final, fatal twist when the last piece clicked. A ship named the Alexander. He was from London, and he’d been dead about two hundred and twenty years. He had Aborigine artwork, given to him from a friend in Australia…

“Which one are you?” I asked, holding the knife still. If he moved, it would shred his heart. If he stayed motionless, it wouldn’t kill him. Yet.

“What?”

“In 1788, four convicts sailed to South Wales penal colonies on a ship named the Alexander. One escaped soon after arriving. A year later, that runaway convict returned and killed everyone but his three friends. One of them was turned into a vampire by choice, two by force. I know who you’re not, so tell me who you are.”

If it were possible, he looked even more astonished than he had when I stabbed him in the heart. “Only a few people in the world know that story.”

I gave the blade a menacing flick that edged it fractions deeper. He got the point, all right.

“Ian. I am Ian.”

Motherfucker! On top of me was the man who’d turned the love of my life into a vampire almost two hundred and twenty years ago. Talk about irony.

Liam, or Ian, was a murderer by his own admission. Granted, his employees may or may not have stolen from him; the world never lacked for fools. Vampires played by a different set of rules when it came to their possessions. They were territorial to a fantastic degree. If Thomas and Jerome knew what he was and stole from him, they’d have known the consequences. But that wasn’t what stayed my hand. Eventually it boiled down to one simple truth-I might have left Bones, but I couldn’t kill the person responsible for bringing him into my life.