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Excerpt from Deep Red by Kate Hill Available from Ellora's Cave! Seraphim wandered to an indoor courtyard filled with exotic trees and flowers, the likes of which would never be found on the barren land outside. While in the mansion, it was difficult to believe miles of desert waited just beyond the stone walls. Seraphim extended the claw of his right forefinger and traced the shape of a thorn sprouting from one of the rosebushes. He caught her scent before she reached the garden. Two hybrid males—other household servants—accompanied her. So, Seraphim's lips curved into a humorless smile, she has been forced after all. He'd thought he sensed it from her, but hadn't been certain. Her footsteps quickened as she struggled to keep her balance after one of the hybrids shoved her inside. The door closed and the scent of the hybrids faded. The echo of her heartbeat and the aroma of her flesh filled the room. Seraphim closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "What's your name?" She didn't reply, and he turned to her, lifting an eyebrow in question. He found himself gazing into those wide green eyes and resisted the urge to shiver. "Hannah," she said. Seraphim took a step closer and touched her hair. He watched the pulse beating in her throat, and when he concentrated hard enough, heard the rush of her blood. Taking a tendril of her honey colored hair gently between his fingers, he asked, "What do you think I want, Hannah?" "I know what you want." She didn't bother keeping the bitterness from her voice. "You want what every other bastard he sends me to wants." She flung her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head so he could see the partially healed fang marks in her neck. "Go ahead. Get it over with." In spite of her words, he felt her tremble as he leaned closer and touched his lips to the wounds on her throat. He closed his eyes as he kissed the soft flesh. When he drew back without so much as exposing his fangs, she stared at him in surprise. "But I thought—" Before she finished speaking, his mouth covered hers. His kiss was chaste at first, allowing her to become accustomed to his touch and taste. One of his hands cupped the back of her head while his other arm slipped around her waist, drawing her curves closer to the hard planes of his body. He considered touching her mind with his—a trick of the magical religion he'd perfected over the centuries—but thought better of it. The last thing she needed was another display of power from his kind. She hadn't been far from the truth when she'd guessed his desire. He did want to taste her blood, but more than that, he wanted to seduce her into offering it freely.

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