Two men she�d never seen loomed on the path before her, drinks in hand, tuxedos impeccable, their smiles perfectly pleasant.

But every nerve in her body went on high alert.

Gabriel may have glared at her with annoyance that bordered on contempt. But these guys?

They looked at her like they wanted to eat her. And she was far enough from the main house that if they tried, no one would hear her scream.

"Lovely evening, isn�t it?" one of them�a man with gray hair and a trim, matching beard�said.

"Sure is." Charley smiled, gripping Beyonc� 2 inside her purse. "I was just leaving, if you�d like the bench. Great view out here."

"The scenery is rather enchanting," the younger of the two said, his beady eyes roaming her curves.

"I wouldn�t go that far." Graybeard frowned at Charley, sniffing at the air between them like a dog. "Redthorne royals cavorting with trash. What has the world come to?"

Redthorne royals? What?

"Sometimes trash has a certain� appeal." The junior guy reached forward and touched Charley�s hair, his eyes dark with malice.

Oh, hell no.

All pretense of politeness shattered. Charley removed the weapon from her purse and took a step backward, aiming Beyonc� 2 at the douchebag who�d touched her. "Careful, boys. This trash bites."

"She said bites," Junior said. "That�s so cute."

"Woman, you don�t know the meaning of the word," Graybeard said. "But you will." He flashed a cruel smile, his teeth sharp and long, almost like� fangs?

What the fuck?

Her mind flashed back to the bedroom at the Salvatore. Hadn�t she thought the same thing about Duchanes?

Junior reached for her again, but this time Charley was ready for it. She squeezed the trigger, plugging him square in the chest.

Her mouth quirked into a triumphant grin, but it didn�t last.

The asshole should�ve dropped to the ground, muscles jiggling like a Jell-o mold. Yet there he stood, unmoving, unaffected, still grinning at her like she was the main course.

Charley was sure of it now. The men had actual, real-life, terrifying fangs.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" he asked, plucking the probes from his chest.

"Maybe it�s a kink?" Graybeard said. "Young people are into pain these days."

Junior laughed. "Then I suppose it�s your lucky night, gorgeous."

In a blur, they dropped their drinks and surrounded her, Graybeard hauling her backward against his chest, Junior crushing her from the front, snatching at her breasts.

"Help!" Charley screamed, knowing her cries would likely go unheard. "Fire!" she tried again, recalling all the self-defense stuff she�d picked up over the years. Weren�t people supposed to be more likely to help if you yelled fire? JrNovels.com