The assassin and his little human mate would be gone in seconds.

But Lucien stepped away from the woman, relaxing his posture and reining his instincts. Aggression did not interest him. Instead, he plucked at the new curiosity, enjoying the vibration of it in his mind.

A human for a mate? No wonder the assassin’s energy had spiked. This Natalie Ellis was ridiculously vulnerable.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted you,” Natalie said quietly. “I just woke up and you weren’t in the house, so I wondered if one of the girls—”

“Everything is fine.” Baojia reached up and brushed a single finger over her cheek. “I was doing a quick sweep. Heading back to the house when Dr. Thrax arrived.”

“Lucien,” he interjected. “Please, call me Lucien. Doctor is a very recent title, from my perspective.” Lucien relaxed his shoulders, making himself as nonthreatening as a vampire of his size could be. He heated his skin to human warmth and held out a hand slowly. “Miss Ellis, it’s very nice to meet you. I assume you are not one of my patients.”

The energy in the room dissipated, though the assassin remained alert. Natalie didn’t just take his hand, she enclosed it, wrapping both her small hands around his large one. She was so warm. So very alive. Her warmth traveled up his arm and spread over his skin.

“You assume correctly,” she said, releasing his hand after a pleasantly long moment. “Though I’ve gotten friendly with most of the girls, so if you need a familiar face to put them at ease, I’m available.” She smiled. “I warn you though, Baojia’s Spanish is way better than mine.”

“Do all the patients speak Spanish?”

Baojia answered. “Yes.”

Natalie’s sleepy eyes warmed when she looked at her mate. “And they all trust Baojia. So it’s very nice to meet you, Lucien, but we probably won’t see each other much unless you want to come over to watch wrestling and have a beer.”

Lucien frowned. Was she joking?

Baojia seemed to read his thoughts. “She’s joking.”

Natalie elbowed her mate, and he captured her in a playful hold that belied his solemn expression.

“Maybe I’m not joking,” Natalie protested. “It’s not like our social calendar is jam-packed, George. Besides, I’ve already made friends at work—it’s time you have some too.”

The vampire raised a single eyebrow at her, but Lucien could see the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. This was a familiar lover’s game. The emotional tie between the two was evident in their body language. Now if he could just figure out why the human was calling her mate “George.” The look on the assassin’s face told him that story would have to be offered in its own time.

“Natalie, if you are inviting me to your home, I am honored by the invitation,” Lucien said, liking this couple the more he saw them interact. “Though we should probably allow your mate to become accustomed to me before I intrude on his territory.”

Natalie let out a sigh. “Vampires.”

“Horrible, formal creatures, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

Baojia leaned into Natalie and whispered a barely audible endearment before another suggestion Lucien was certain the vampire had not meant to share. A slight flush rose to Natalie’s cheeks.

Increased heart rate. Arousal. Pleasure. The mortal enjoyed her mate.

“I’ll just head back to bed,” Natalie said, nodding toward the door. “Bedtime for humans and all that. Lucien, it was very nice to meet you. After you two sniff each other’s butts and make friends, come over for that beer.”

Lucien watched her leave with a smile on his face and decided any vampire who had mated with a human like Natalie Ellis was a vampire worth knowing, and one he might even count as a friend one day.

Baojia cleared his throat as Natalie’s footsteps were lost in the sound of the night surf. “Yes, she is always like that.”

“Ah.”

“And no, you cannot have her.” Baojia let slip the first smile Lucien had seen from the man. “She’s mine.”

“Lucky you.”

CHAPTER TWO

Dr. Makeda Abel was reading a journal article by a Taiwanese researcher when she heard the childish giggle. She looked over her shoulder and saw Rochelle, one of the youngest patients in the sickle cell treatment wing, peeking around the corner. The girl was small for her age, as many of Makeda’s patients were.

“What are you doing here?” Makeda asked. “You were taking a nap when I stopped by your room. Isn’t it lunchtime for you? Does Nurse Mimi know where you are?”

Rochelle only giggled more.

Makeda bookmarked the article and turned her chair toward the little girl, who walked into the small office and toward Makeda’s desk.

“So”—she held up her arms and Rochelle scrambled onto her lap—“what are you giggling about?”

The delicate girl had been coming to the hospital for blood transfusions since she was a year old. She was as comfortable with the doctors and nurses as she was with her family. And Makeda, though she had no children of her own, was a very practiced auntie. It was one of the reasons she continued to keep an office at the hospital. Her office at the lab was far more spacious, modern, and quiet, but she didn’t have random little girls with bright smiles wandering in to say hello.

“Dr. Mak, you have curly hair like me.” Rochelle’s small hand reached out and patted Makeda’s hair.