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PROLOGUE
“Noooooo!” A little girl’s voice echoed through the hallway. The cry was followed by footsteps, more yelling, and a petulant squeal.
“It’s mine! You give it back right now, Connor stupid Keene!”
The dark-haired boy stuck his tongue out at her—the tiny blonde he relished torturing—then tore down the hallway, holding aloft the plastic sword he’d taken from his enemy. “Victory!” he said.
She followed him, Mary Jane shoes padding down the carpeted hallway, but he was nearly a foot taller, and she knew she couldn’t catch him. Not by running. So she called in a reinforcement.
“Daddy! Connor stupid Keene won’t give me my sword!”
Connor stupid Keene stopped and spun around, then leveled his best glare at Elisa Sullivan.
“I’m a prince,” he said, sticking his thumb against his chest. “And I can take your sword if I want!” He was seven, and she only five and a half, so he was obviously the more mature of the two of them.
She jumped up to grab the sword but couldn’t reach it. “Give it back, you... you...”
“‘You’ what?” he asked with a wily grin, spinning around to keep the toy out of her hands. “What am I?”
“You’re... you’re... you’re a stupid boy—that’s what you are!”
“Children.”
They froze, then turned back toward the doorway to Elisa’s father’s office and looked warily at the vampire who filled it. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Sullivan,” said Connor, scowling at his companion.
Green-eyed Elisa, just as wily as he was, stuck out her tongue at Connor, then batted her eyelashes at her father. “He took my sword,” she said in a small, soft voice she knew was guaranteed to get her way. “And he won’t give it back.”
“Son, did you take her sword?”
They turned again, saw a tall man at the other end of the hallway.
“No, Dad,” Connor said as his father walked toward him. Connor held out the sword and let Elisa take it back, but scowled when she stuck her tongue out at him. Again.She is so spoiled,he thought.
Gabriel Keene grinned wolfishly, crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m glad we resolved this peacefully.”
Ethan Sullivan smiled, one hand braced against the doorframe as he watched his daughter and her nemesis do what they did best. “As am I. Do we need to talk about the House rules again?”
“No, Daddy.” Elisa tucked the sword behind her back.
“Son?” Gabriel asked.
“No, Dad.” Connor shifted from foot to foot.
“We talked about this.”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in the hallway.
“I know.”
As she bit her lip, Elisa looked up at Connor and saw the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. She didn’t like being teased—or not that much, anyway—but she really didn’t like that look on his face.
She stepped forward, putting her small body between Connor and his father.
“It was my fault,” she said.
Arching an eyebrow, Gabriel crouched down, hands clasped in front of him. “Was it, now?”
