Date: 2011-09-11T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Vampires; Fantasy; Romance
Description: Saxom is dead. The vampires know this. Anthony Hancock, Director of the Joint NSA/Homeland Security Department, knows it as well. Tony and the vampires are now on the hunt for Saxom's brood, all of whom are determined to avenge their sire's death. Neither Tony nor the vampires are aware of the other's efforts to search out these rogues, who may number in the hundreds at the very least. Tony holds information the vampires don't—he knows that Xenides, Saxom's eldest vampire child, has allied with terrorists (both foreign and domestic). Tony also neglects to provide vital information to Wlodek wh

BLOOD SENSE

A Novel by

Connie Suttle

Also by Connie Suttle

(Blood Destiny Series)

Blood Wager

Blood Passage

Blood Sense

*Blood Domination

**Blood Royal

*forthcoming, October, 2011

**forthcoming, November, 2011

For Walter and Joe. You know why.

For the fans (you know who you are) who took a chance on my books.

Thank you.

Blood Sense, e-edition

Copyright © 2009 by Connie Suttle

This e-book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed within its digital pages are purely fictitious and a product of the author's often warped imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Franklin studied the body floating in water with fear and horror. Blackened beyond recognition, it lay suspended between existence and non-existence. Even the hair had completely burned away from the small head. Merrill had instructed Franklin to change the water in the bathtub every hour until he rose for the evening. It was now four in the afternoon, sunset was three hours away and Franklin was frightened. There was no alteration in Lissa's condition—hadn't been throughout the day. Gavin wasn't aware of Lissa's attempt at suicide; he'd already gone into the rejuvenating sleep for the day when Merrill pulled Lissa from the roof. If Merrill hadn't gone looking for her, she would have died. Meant to die. Franklin's cell phone lay on a stack of towels nearby and he'd spoken to Greg several times already, for much-needed moral support. If Gavin wakes and finds Lissa like this, Franklin heaved a troubled sigh. His watch was set for half an hour before sunset, allowing sufficient time for Gavin's waking. Franklin considered getting away before Gavin discovered this disaster.

"Little girl, you need to come back to us," Franklin swirled a hand in the water. Merrill had placed Lissa in the tub inside her bathroom after collecting her burned body from the roof. Franklin had come running when he heard Merrill's shout, finding his father settling Lissa's blackened and unrecognizable body in the tub and turning on the taps. Black ash stirred and sifted off the body still, rising to float on the water's surface. Franklin had never seen anything like this. Never. The timer sitting on the side of the tub went off and Franklin dutifully released the water, watching while additional black ash drifted down the drain. More water ran into the tub and the wait began again.

"This doesn't look good," Merrill knelt down beside the tub later, reaching in to move the water a little. "We need to lift her head up so she can take a breath if she's going to."

"I don't think she's going to be happy with us if she wakes and finds we stopped her," Franklin murmured, passing thick, rolled up towels to Merrill. Merrill carefully lifted Lissa's head and placed towels beneath it so her nose and mouth were free of the water.

"You're likely correct," Merrill sighed. "She intended to do this. Absolutely. She waited until Gavin and I passed her room one last time before dawn and then escaped, probably as mist. She was just sitting there on the roof, waiting for the sun to take her."

"Perhaps the males can take beatings, but in this case, I think they should have devised an alternative punishment," Franklin muttered. He was still angry that they'd punished her to begin with, but Merrill and Gavin had both agreed to Wlodek's sentence, as had the Council. Franklin had expressed his opinion to Merrill, who'd listened dispassionately and then agreed with Wlodek anyway.

"I have three messages from Anthony Hancock on her phone, six from William Winkler and two from Weldon Harper," Merrill sighed. "How can we possibly explain this to them? What are we going to tell Gavin?"

Franklin stiffened when he heard Gavin's voice calling for Lissa. "I'll go," Merrill said. "He cannot get past me if he's bent on destruction." Franklin nodded, swirling the water a little.

"Where is Lissa?" Gavin demanded when Merrill stepped from Lissa's bathroom.

"In the tub," Merrill replied. "Gavin, I found her on the roof this morning. She was letting the sun take her when I pulled her away. There has been no improvement in her condition since then."

Gavin stood inside the doorway of Lissa's bedroom, stunned horror crossing his features. "No," he denied, shaking his head. "That is not possible. Where is she?"

Merrill placed the best compulsion he could muster on Gavin, instructing him not to be violent in his reaction when he saw Lissa and then motioned the Assassin inside the bathroom. Gavin dropped to his knees and wept instead as he gazed on Lissa's blackened flesh. Merrill's cell rang so he walked into Lissa's bedroom to answer.

"You left a message about an emergency?" Wlodek queried.

"Our little girl attempted to give herself to the sun this morning," Merrill informed the Head of the Vampire Council.

"Let me speak with her."

"She is beyond that, Wlodek. We have had the body in water since I removed her from sunlight this morning, but it doesn't appear to be working. I think the burns were too severe. We're losing her."

"I will be there shortly." Wlodek hung up.

"She hasn't taken a breath," Franklin said when Merrill returned. Gavin sat in the floor at the opposite end of the tub, watching Merrill mutely, silently begging for encouragement of some sort. Merrill checked his watch; it was ten minutes past sunset. Merrill seldom cursed but he did so now in his native Latin. Gavin understood every word.

"Breathe, cara," Gavin begged, turning back to Lissa's still form. "Do this for me. Please."

"Wlodek is on his way," Merrill said. Gavin nodded. He hoped Wlodek could help. They both stared at the small body floating in the tub, charred past recognition, the ends of fingers and toes already gone. If she recovered, those would grow back. If she recovered. If.

"I'll go downstairs to let Wlodek in," Franklin said, rising from his position beside the tub. Merrill nodded, placed a hand on his human child's shoulder for a moment and then let him go. Wlodek arrived half an hour later and Lissa still hadn't taken a breath.

"Any improvement?" Wlodek asked Franklin, handing gloves and an expensive trench over. Franklin shook his head and led Wlodek up the stairs. Wlodek cursed softly in his native Greek upon seeing the seared wreck that used to be Lissa. A cufflink was ripped from his shirt in Wlodek's haste to peel back a sleeve, the gold and diamond square ticking across the tiled floor of Lissa's bathroom. Mutely holding the exposed flesh of his wrist out to Merrill, Wlodek waited for Merrill to slice it open. Terrified that her body would disintegrate under his hands, leaving the tub filled with ash instead of her body, Gavin leaned forward and pried Lissa's mouth open as carefully as he could.

"Drink, little angel," Wlodek crooned, allowing the blood from his wrist to drip into Lissa's mouth. Merrill timed it—four minutes exactly. Wlodek pulled his wrist away when Merrill nodded. Gavin had watched carefully; there was very little blood in the water. Wlodek's was the oldest and most powerful blood. If that failed to bring Lissa back then she was truly lost. The timer went off again; it was time to replace the water.

"As long as her body remains intact, keep changing the water," Wlodek instructed. Merrill offered a unit of blood from Lissa's small refrigerator. Wlodek drank it as he watched Gavin fill the tub again, leaving Lissa's nose and mouth free to take a breath. "We hardly know what to do with them, they are so rare," Wlodek sighed. "And this is the rarest of all of them."

* * *

"No, brother. She became mist in seconds, if that," Henri spoke to his brother Gervais, who was currently on assignment in France. "And only her hand formed to knock the wood shaft of the arrow away. I would be flaking away somewhere in the U.S. but for her."

"What happened with the Council?"

"They found her guilty of disobeying her sire and sentenced her to a beating. Twenty strokes, delivered by that cretin Sebastian."

"He is much too heavy handed. Why did they not ask someone else?"

"They did. Everyone else refused," Henri replied.

"Do you think she will speak with us? Perhaps she can teach us how to improve our changing time." Gervais desired that greatly. It took the brothers five minutes to turn to mist every time. So much might be accomplished if their misting time could be reduced.

"We must make the request through her sire, I believe. She is committed to Gavin as you know, so his permission may be required as well."

"We will see," Gervais replied. He was more concerned about Gavin than Merrill on the matter.

* * *

"Tell me what happened." Wlodek sat in Merrill's study, a glass of wine in his hand. Wlodek had the tiniest bit of taste where wine was concerned. Food he abhorred but he enjoyed a glass of wine upon occasion. Merrill explained how he and Gavin had checked on Lissa regularly throughout the night, but shortly before dawn, she'd misted out of the house and gone to the roof.

"We can't chain her as I did Brock," Merrill sighed. "Not only can she mist out of the chains, but it will certainly break her spirit if that has not happened already." Brock had tried repeatedly to get away to visit friends, forcing Merrill to chain him and lock him up for two months.

"I would not suggest it either," Wlodek replied. "We took a chance with the beating, but we have witnessed the results of that."

"Most of them recover in one night and it is forgotten," Merrill nodded. "But these are males we speak of. Everything now hinges on Lissa taking a breath." Merrill toyed with his own glass of wine. "If she does not, well." Merrill didn't finish.

* * *

Gavin carried a chair into Lissa's bathroom and settled it beside the tub, watching for any sign of a breath and changing the water whenever the timer went off. It was currently two hours past sunset and he was trying to remember what their last phone conversation had been. Had he been angry and cursing? He couldn't recall. Lissa, unless he upset her, was always kind in her conversations.

Wlodek looked in one more time before he left at three hours past sunset. He had business to conduct and was forced to leave. His mind wouldn't be on his work, however, when he went home.

Charles met Wlodek at the door when he returned, afraid to ask after Lissa. "There is no change, she still has not taken a breath," Wlodek informed him, sweeping past his assistant. Charles turned away. "Did you do the research as I asked?" Wlodek went on, striding quickly toward the stairs and his private study.

"She has no brothers or sisters. Lissa was an only child," Charles said, trailing behind Wlodek as he made for the steps. "I found something else, though, that might explain all this. I wish I'd thought to look into this earlier."

"What did you find?" Wlodek stopped and lifted an eyebrow at Charles.

"I have the information printed out for you—news clippings and such," Charles followed Wlodek down the long, carpeted hallway to Wlodek's study. Wlodek sat down at his desk and opened the file folder. This would be added to Lissa's file when he was finished reading it. The headline on the top page caused him to catch his breath.

"Charles, make a copy of this and have it delivered to Merrill, please," Wlodek closed the file and handed it to his waiting assistant.

"If you don't need me, I can deliver it myself."

"Very well. Do not linger there, young Charles, we have much work to do," Wlodek reminded him.

"Of course, Honored One," Charles nodded and left to run his errand.

* * *

"Wlodek asked me to bring this. I did the research earlier this evening," Charles handed the copied folder off to Merrill. "May I see her?" he asked timidly.

"There's not much to see, but yes." Merrill led the way. Gavin was still sitting beside the tub, waiting. It was now five hours past sunset. Charles drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Lissa's burned body lying in a tub of water, flakes of black ash floating about her torso. He wondered if anyone could live over that severe an injury but didn't want to say it; Gavin looked as if he were about to crumble. Charles only stayed for a moment before leaving; Wlodek was waiting for him, after all.

Merrill flipped open the file after seeing Charles to the door. He stopped still in the kitchen, slapped the folder shut and cursed. The headline read Man Arrested in Beating Death of Wife and below that, the article said Teen daughter in critical condition at local hospital after assault. There was a photograph there of Lissa at age nineteen. The article cited years of abuse suffered by a wife and daughter at the hands of an alcoholic monster. Merrill walked up the stairs to check on Lissa again, wondering if he should pass the folder to Gavin or not. He decided to hold back for the moment—perhaps he would hand it over if she lived. This time.

Seven hours past sunset came and Gavin changed the water. Merrill came in and offered to relieve him. Gavin growled. Merrill left. He'd chased Franklin off to bed earlier, threatening compulsion if he didn't. Franklin would have to take over in the morning, if there was any reason left to take over.

"Lissa, do not leave us like this—do not leave me like this," Gavin begged. "Take a breath for me. Just one. That is all I ask." He spoke to her in French. Then in Italian, German, Spanish, Latin and Greek. He even threw in a few phrases in Russian, although he thought it might upset her. She had been frightened of Ivan. Gavin was losing hope at eight hours past sunset. The sun would be rising in two hours and he didn’t think anything would save her past that. Merrill returned and settled in the floor next to the tub. He would have to bury this one, too. He sighed and leaned his head on an arm.

"She had the most perfect mouth," Gavin said, startling Merrill and causing him to lift his head. "I sometimes lost my train of thought, just staring at it. I would revert to other languages at times so she wouldn't know."

"That upset her—when she couldn't understand what you were saying."

"I know. If she would breathe for me, I would be happy to translate every word." Gavin sighed and trailed fingers through the water surrounding Lissa's face. "When she first met me and didn't know what I was, she thought I smelled good," Gavin went on. "I had no idea I was ruining things for us when I did what I did, in order to bring her back to the Council. I thought I would have to take her life."

"We all took it, this time," Merrill stated bluntly. His cell phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Merrill pulled it from his pocket and answered. "Nothing," Merrill replied to the question. It was Flavio; he'd gotten the news from Wlodek. Flavio only talked for a short while and rang off. Merrill slipped the phone into his pocket again. Franklin walked in. He hadn't slept well and looked rumpled and frightened as a result.

"Little girl, who is going to watch out for me?" Franklin started weeping, something he seldom did. He couldn't stand it any longer, sobbing as he left the bathroom. Merrill rose and went after him, leaving Gavin in his chair by the tub. That meant he was the one who heard the sharp intake of breath and the whimper that followed. Gavin was shouting for Merrill while he knelt beside the tub, doing his best to coax a second breath. It came after several seconds. Merrill and Franklin were there to hear the third one. They almost jumped when the timer went off again.

"We'll rinse her off one more time and then move her to the bed," Merrill instructed. He and Gavin lifted Lissa from the tub while Franklin piled clean towels across her bed. Lissa moaned when they moved her and Gavin hushed her, speaking soft words. Her skin flaked away in his hands as he cradled Lissa's head in his palm. Once they settled Lissa on the bed, Franklin and Gavin laid the sheet lightly over her body. Franklin would be forced to throw it and the towels away afterward and he was never so happy to do something such as that in his life. Lissa continued breathing until the sun rose and then stopped, going into the rejuvenating sleep. Merrill and Gavin were old enough to stay awake a few minutes past sunrise, so Merrill called Wlodek to pass on the news.

* * *

I woke myself moaning. I wasn't dead and I was supposed to be. How had that happened? Who had done this to me, pulling me back into my misery? Who?

"Hush, love. All will be well," covers rustled around me as someone adjusted them. I knew that voice, that scent. I just couldn't immediately reconcile them with a name. I must have moaned again—I can't remember—and the lightest touch on my cheek came as if they were afraid to place fingers on my skin.

"Cara, you must drink," The voice came again as blood was gently smeared across my lips to convince me to feed. The bag of blood was held to my lips and mouthful by mouthful, I was coaxed to swallow. All this happened in darkness—I wasn't sure I could open my eyes. I was afraid the light would be too bright for some reason and my eyelids refused to cooperate anyway.

Another waking and still my eyes wouldn't open. Blood was offered and I drank. "Come, love, they say it is safe to take you in the shower." Hands lifted me up and I shivered as I was carried. "You must tell me if the water is not right," the voice murmured. Taps were turned and the scent and noise of water came. Yes, water has a scent. I knew that much, but I was still struggling to put a name to the voice and to assign a cause or blame for what was wrong with me. My body flinched as we stepped beneath the spray. Again, I was asked if the water was the right temperature. It felt warm and soothing against my skin.

"S'okay," I mumbled. The voice whispered his thanks for my words.

* * *

Gavin, Merrill and Franklin were all standing at my bedside when my eyes finally opened and I came fully back to myself. Six days had passed since I'd tried to let the sun kill me. "Thank God." Those were Franklin's first words as I blinked up at him. Gavin and Merrill stepped back as Franklin sat down on the side of my bed and took my hand. "Little girl, don't you ever try to leave me again," he admonished. "Greg is coming in tomorrow and if he doesn't give you a tongue lashing, then I don't know him at all."

I raised the other hand to rub my forehead, surprised that my limbs were actually obeying me. Somehow, I couldn't remember having any control over them for a while.

"Sweetheart, your fingers and toes are regenerating. It will take another two weeks or so for them to be normal." That was Merrill speaking. I went still at his words. Slowly I lifted my hand away from my face and saw that my fingers were missing from the last joint down. I had no fingernails; the part of my fingers that held them was missing. Covering my eyes with what remained of my hand, I asked the question.

"What else is missing? And why didn't you leave me on the roof? I should be dead now and far away from all of you." Now I remembered the beating. Merrill had no idea how hard it had been for me to stand there and take that. I'd sworn to myself long ago that nobody would beat me again. Yet here I was and that's exactly what had happened.

"Because of selfishness," Franklin said, kissing my hand. "Our selfishness. We didn't want to be without you, little girl. I can't face that pain. I'm sorry." Franklin wasn't alone in that; I wasn't sure I could face the pain again either. Bearing the agony of the burning as the sun crisped my skin had been almost unendurable. I might not be able to do it a second time. "And your hair, eyebrows and eyelashes are gone, baby Lissa, but they'll grow back, too."

My hand was still over my eyes as I muttered, "Great. I'm a freak."

"Your skin is fine and as beautiful as it ever was," Gavin said. "Those other things will come soon. Just be patient with your body. And with us."

That caused me to snort. Patient with them? When had they been patient with me? "Lissa, I know what you're thinking," Merrill replied. "And you are correct, up to a point."

"Oh, so suddenly you're a mind reader?" That came out with a little more sarcasm than I'd intended.

"As you know already, I am quite old and have been dealing with people and vampires for all of that time." Yeah. I knew he was old, all right.

"Did you know the vampire that came after me at the hotel in New Mexico was older than you and Wlodek?" That statement had Gavin drawing in a breath and Merrill laying compulsion.

"Gavin, you will not be telling anyone that our little one here has this talent," Merrill commanded sternly.

"I would not have done so, even without your instruction," Gavin grumbled. "That is both dangerous and highly useful at the same time, as well as something that I had already guessed at. She told me Nyles Abernathy was older than I when we faced him in Florida. I already knew that but she surprised me by telling me so."

"The vampire's scent at the hotel was also tainted," I said. Yeah, I was letting the cat partly out of the bag. "All of the bad vampires there that night had the same tainted scent."

"Christ," Merrill muttered. "And you could tell this?" His bright blue eyes held a worry that I couldn't define.

I removed the hand from my forehead and gazed levelly at him. "Yes, Merrill, I could tell that. Tate's mother was with the first vampire, as was Kevin's mom. The other female werewolf I didn't know and she didn't identify herself. I killed all four of them."

Merrill pulled out his cell, turned his back to us and waited for someone to answer his call. Wlodek responded with a greeting—my ears were still good, I guess. Lifting what remained of my fingers, I attempted to see if I still had ears and earlobes left. "Merrill says you hair protected your ears for a while; they were covered and your fingers and toes weren't," Franklin was reading my mind.

"Honored One," Merrill said after Wlodek greeted him, "Lissa can smell the taint on Saxom's get."

That statement earned silence on the other end for several seconds. "Then bring her tomorrow evening," Wlodek replied, his voice as smooth as water over river stones. Merrill agreed and ended the call.

"Is there anything we can get for you?" Franklin asked me.

"I want an iPhone," I said tartly. So far, someone else had picked out my phones and Merrill had taken away my last one. Now I wanted what I wanted and an iPhone would allow me to pick up my email messages a lot easier than the other phones I'd had.

Franklin laughed and it was a good sound. He probably hadn't done that for days. "Well, little girl, since I haven't gotten you anything for Christmas yet as I didn't know what you wanted, I will take myself out tomorrow morning and buy one."

"Franklin, you don't need to spend that much money," I said. "There's money inside an envelope in my computer case if you can get Merrill to give it up."

"That money is inside my safe," Merrill announced. Great. He had my backup stash. "Where did it come from, anyway?"

Gavin knew the answer. "Winkler paid her for saving his life and tracking the three that almost killed him last year. She hasn't used much of it at all."

"There hasn't been any opportunity to use much of it," I grumbled. And since when did he keep up with my finances?

"Winkler should have paid her more," Gavin did his own grumbling.

"I'm a cheap date, I guess," I said. "Can I get up or is it against the vampire law or something?" At least I was dressed in pajamas; somebody had bothered and it was most likely Franklin.

"You may get up and bathe and do whatever you have the energy to do, but Derlin suggests that you don't do anything strenuous until your fingers and toes regenerate completely," Merrill said. "You may wander about the house and aggravate anyone inside it as much as you want." I was ready to tell him that I'd tried my best not to be an aggravation to anyone when he smiled and I knew he was teasing.

"You may not go to the roof unless someone accompanies you," Gavin was back to laying down the law.

"Gavin, do not make that light die in her eyes," Franklin turned and lectured Gavin. Gavin actually looked apologetic. "Come on, little girl," Franklin was still holding one of my hands. He helped me sit up in bed and then helped me slide my legs over the edge. That gave me the first glimpse of my toes—they were just little nubs now and I wondered if I could even walk. Franklin was wondering the same thing; he just didn't say what he was thinking and held my hand tightly as I slipped off the bed. Yeah, toes are pretty important to walking, I discovered. Franklin helped me as I gimped along to the bathroom.

"Bath or shower?" Franklin asked as I stood unsteadily on my feet inside the bathroom, the Italian marble tile cold beneath my soles. The bathtub would be better in one respect; I could sit and get clean. The shower would be easier to climb out of afterward.

"Lissa, will you allow me to help you?" Gavin came in to stand right behind Franklin, his beautiful brown eyes pleading with me. Heaving a sigh, I considered it. So far, I'd managed to keep my back to the mirror. I was afraid to look at my image; too terrified to see the damage a few seconds in the sun had cost me. Now, Gavin was asking if he could help. Well, he'd probably seen me worse the last few days.

"All right," I agreed. Might as well get it all over with at once. Grabbing Franklin's hand to balance myself, I turned toward the mirror. The skin was intact, looked as fine as it ever did and I was thankful I still had eyelids to be honest, even though I had no eyelashes and was completely bald.

"I look like a bald girl in one of those sci-fi movies," I grumped, lifting my stubby little fingers to touch my head.

"You do not," Gavin said, stepping behind me. "You are more beautiful." His big hands gripped my shoulders as he leaned down to nuzzle my neck before placing a kiss.

"Honey, I don't feel very beautiful, right now." I pulled my gaze away from my reflection and hobbled toward the shower. Franklin made a graceful exit, leaving Gavin to take care of things. Gavin undressed me first and then undressed himself before lifting me off the sink. He allowed me to lean against him while I did my best to bathe. I had no idea how much that would tire me out so he helped dry me off and got us both dressed afterward. My clothes were quite loose. Gavin tried to convince me to drink as much blood as I could, but I couldn't get past the amount I normally consume. He also carried me downstairs and that's when I learned that Merrill had given Lena time off with pay. Who knows what excuse he'd fabricated to accomplish that?

I sat on the kitchen island and watched Franklin put steak marinade together for his and Greg's meal the following day. "How long will it be before I have fingernails again?" I glanced up at Gavin, who was standing beside me.

"The physician says two weeks, perhaps, but these are tiny fingers," he lifted one of my hands and kissed it. "It should not take so much time to recreate them."

"Will I gain weight back?" I could put one hand inside the waistband of the jeans I wore and they felt baggy.

"Lissa, you lost mass," Gavin informed me. "I have heard of this happening in severe cases before when the vampire survived. Derlin supports this. Even your bones are slightly smaller, now. It's like a second turn and that consumes a part of you to complete. I have never heard of a vampire gaining weight."

"Great. Now all my clothes are too big."

"We can fix that as soon as you're able to shop," Franklin grinned at me. He was placing the steaks in the fridge.

"How long is Greg staying?" I asked.

"At least two weeks." Franklin was happy, I could tell.

"Good for you, Frankie," I said and smiled back at him.

"Frankie?" Gavin lifted an eyebrow at me.

"It's a nickname, honey," I patted Gavin's cheek.

"I like the nickname." Frank busied himself around the stove. "Besides, Lissa can call me anything she likes, because I love her." Franklin didn't look at me when he made his announcement.

"I love you, too, Frankie," I said. Gavin looked as if he'd like to hear the same words aimed in his direction. I didn't offer them. He kissed my hand again and sighed.

* * *

Sunday, March seventh was a better day. My fingers and toes were a millimeter longer, I think. Gavin still had to help me in the shower, but I managed to dress myself and he and Merrill got me out to one of the cars. Gavin carried me to the garage, settling me in the back seat of the Range Rover and buckling my seat belt. My little finger stubs were a bit on the clumsy side. I was also the proud owner of a new iPhone; Franklin had picked it up after he went to the airport to collect Greg. I'd gotten a kiss from Greg when I made it downstairs, along with a promise for the lecture when there was time. Franklin had winked at me as Gavin hauled me out the door.

The road we took eventually looked familiar; I realized we were heading toward the holding cells where I'd been imprisoned when Gavin first brought me into the country. The scents were also familiar when Gavin lifted me out of my seat and carried me in. Wlodek, Charles and Radomir were standing in an office of sorts not far inside the door. I'd never been inside the office; I'd been escorted straight down the hall and tossed inside a cell instead. Those weren't good memories. Gavin must have read my thoughts—he gave me a little squeeze while he held me. My feet were encased in socks since none of my shoes fit at the moment and my white cotton socks stuck out against the dark denim of my jeans.

Charles was bursting to say something but held it back, I could tell. Wlodek's face looked a little gray to be honest, but he didn't say much either. Radomir stood behind him and never said a word. The schmuck was wearing the cufflinks I'd given him for Christmas, though. Just see if I ever sent these guys another thing. Ever.

"The Prisoner is being brought," Wlodek said and motioned for Gavin to set me down in a chair off to the side. "Lissa, please remain silent while the prisoner is here. We will ask questions, which he will attempt to refuse to answer," Wlodek instructed. I nodded. No way was I talking to him if I could help it.

I almost disobeyed Wlodek when the prisoner was brought in. One of the two vampires who escorted him was Sebastian. My hiss barely stayed behind my teeth when he arrived, one of the prisoner's arms gripped tightly in his huge hands. Stephan was on the prisoner's other side. The vampire prisoner had the taint on him, all right; I knew that right away. He stared at me, once he'd managed to do a little sniffing of his own.

"A little Queen," he grinned at me maliciously. Stephan cuffed him.

"Now, Claremont," Wlodek began, "please tell me why you are not registered with the Council and why drained bodies seem to turn up everywhere around you?"

"No," Claremont grinned nastily at Wlodek. I'd already determined that he was slightly older than the Head of the Council.

Wlodek turned to Merrill and nodded slightly.

"You will tell me, though, won't you?" Merrill commanded. Claremont's eyes went blank. Yeah, Merrill has the mojo, all right, where compulsion is concerned.

"My sire said it was not necessary for me to be registered," Claremont replied haughtily.

"And what was his name?" Merrill continued his questioning.

"He called himself Meletius," Claremont replied.

"Did he teach you not to kill humans?"

"He taught me to kill them without detection," Claremont said. Ugh. This guy was a piece of work.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"I do not know of any, but my master left me after two years."

"How old are you?" Merrill asked. Now I was going to get a true gauge on my age detecting skills, I hoped.

"Two thousand, eight hundred ninety-two," Claremont mumbled.

Jeez, the guy was nearly twenty-nine hundred years old and was Saxom's child. How old had Saxom been? Wlodek came close to this one's age but he wasn't that old. How could they not have known that Saxom was bad? This one smelled evil to me, just like the others. Tainted. Corrupt. And according to the information Tony had, Saxom had been on the Council. For how long? Since the beginning, maybe, and these guys never suspected? Jeez.

Merrill grilled Claremont at length as Wlodek supplied questions. Charles dutifully recorded all of Claremont's replies with Radomir, Sebastian and Stephan as witnesses. Sebastian never glanced at Gavin or me. Just as well. If he and I were ever in a room alone, one of us might die. Sebastian and Stephan eventually took the prisoner away and Wlodek leveled his gaze on me.

"He's the same as the others," I replied before the question was ever spoken.

"You are sure?" Wlodek gave me a searching look.

"Absolutely," I said. "I'll never get that scent out of my nose." My words made Charles stop tapping on his laptop for a second. He continued after a sharp "Charles," from Wlodek.

"Bring her to the Council meeting tomorrow evening," Wlodek instructed. "Charles will get this additional information to the others tonight." Charles nodded at Wlodek's command and tapped out a few last words on his computer before closing it.

Fucking great—Wlodek wanted me at the Council meeting. I was going to be paraded in front of the other assholes who'd had me beaten. That made me feel special. "Lissa, you will remain with Gavin and Merrill off to the side during the Council meeting and you will not speak unless the Council requests it, do you hear?" Wlodek laid compulsion. I nodded. The compulsion didn't work but my fear certainly did.

* * *

"She didn't even say hello," Charles grumbled after Gavin carried Lissa from the room, closely followed by Merrill.

"Young Charles," Wlodek laid a hand on Charles's shoulder, "our little girl has much to forgive first. It is my hope she will come around, given time. She will not be as angry with you as the rest of us, I think." Wlodek glanced at Radomir; the message had been meant for him as well. He nodded slightly. They prepared to leave, waiting for only a moment while Charles slid his laptop inside its case. Charles had to get the information to the remainder of the Council so judgment could be passed on Claremont the following evening. Wlodek sighed, lifted his jacket from a chair and slipped it on.

* * *

There was a question that Merrill and Wlodek hadn't asked and the answer made many other questions pop into my head, depending on what the answer was. I stewed about it on the way home until I couldn't hold it any longer. "Merrill?" I asked. He was driving and I didn't want to distract him that much.

"What, sweetheart?"

"When Claremont said his sire left him after two years, when did his sire tell him he didn't need to be registered with the Council? His making was long before the Council came into existence so his sire had to have contact with him after the Council was formed."

Merrill skidded the Range Rover to a stop on the side of the road. "Christ," he muttered. "Holy Christ," Merrill said before pulling onto the road again. Claremont had gotten around Merrill's compulsion. It was all in the wording of the questions and the carefully crafted answers. "Lissa," Merrill said after a while, "if you were making a guess, what would it be?"

"That some of Saxom's get might have known about each other, or found each other later and that Saxom may have been pulling all their strings, separately or together, to do collective harm." Merrill might have considered skidding to a second stop but he kept driving.

"Love, you have no way of knowing this," Gavin said over the back of his seat.

"No. I don't. All I have is a feeling." I couldn't tell him how my skin sometimes itched when I knew trouble was coming. The Council already had that information. They'd completely ignored it, too, as far as I could tell.

It was March in England and a light rain was falling when we got home. I could see swirling droplets in the glow of the headlights as we pulled into the garage. It was a little cold, too; my ears were freezing when we walked inside the house. Maybe I needed a woolly hat. It would keep my ears warmer and cover my baldness at the same time.

Franklin and Greg were still up and in the kitchen sharing a cup of tea. "I need a woolly hat," I said, sitting next to Greg at the kitchen island. "My ears are cold."

Greg reached out and touched one of my ears. "They are cold," he acknowledged. "But aren't you guys always cold?" He grinned when he said it.

"I may let you live," I teased him back. Franklin threw back his head and laughed.

"We're going into London tomorrow. I'll see what I can find," Franklin offered.

"Frank, you've already spent too much money on me. Let me see if I can pry some of my money away from dad over here," I nodded at Merrill. He was standing next to Gavin, watching the rest of us.

"Lissa, Franklin has one of my credit cards. He may use it for whatever you need," Merrill said.

"Fine," I mumbled, leaning on the island and burying my face in my arms.

"You don't like being dependent on anyone, do you?" Greg rubbed my back a little.

"No."

"Lissa, a child may be considered a dependent, legally, but a parent generally doesn't see it as an annoying obligation," Merrill said. I'd hurt his feelings, somehow. Gavin didn't look happy either. Where were they when I was getting the crap beat out of me? And that had happened because I'd disobeyed my vampire parent. Yeah, it didn't make a lick of sense to me.

"Then buy two woolly hats," I sat up and looked at Franklin. "And not those kind that have the weird tassels hanging down." Greg laughed this time.

What I received was a huge bag full of hats in all colors when I woke the following evening. They were mostly knit berets that could be pulled over the ears if I wanted. Some of them were cashmere and had a bit of embellishment, which was quite pretty. For my visit to the Council meeting, I picked out a nice pair of gray pinstriped slacks, a black crossover top and a black wool blazer. Winkler put paid to my leather one and I hadn't replaced it. Since the top was a knit, it hugged my body close enough but the pants were loose. I sighed, hunted down the thickest pair of black socks I could find and put my black slippers on. My toes were a little longer, thank goodness, so my hobbling wasn't quite so bad. My fingers were growing out as well but I still had no fingernails. I figured those would come last.

A black cashmere beret went on my head last of all, and if I'd had any suitable earrings I'd have worn them, but I didn't. I pulled the knit beret down to cover most of my ears and went out to find Merrill and Gavin. Gavin checked my fingers when I walked up to him and he kissed what I had. He hadn't asked to get in bed with me since I'd nearly died and I did and didn't appreciate that. I hadn't worn his ring, either, until now. I was worried it would just slide off or something. It was a little loose but I didn't think I'd lose it. Gavin fingered it while he held my hand.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He hadn't done much talking lately. Reaching up, I touched his face.

"Lissa, we need to have this conversation another night, I think," he said. "We have Council business tonight. Do not fear," he touched my face. "I love you so much it is painful. Your hat is quite becoming," he smiled and kissed me.

"I'm the one who can wish for longer hair for Christmas," I complained. "Yours is back to normal." I ran stubby fingers through the dark brown wealth.

"I had my doubts that you'd noticed." He was still smiling.

"I may be pissed at you sometimes, honey, but I always notice," I sniffed.

Brock came to drive us and Merrill asked him to take the Rolls. I sat in the back with Gavin, who pulled me close against his side. Once we arrived, we sat and waited near the park. I wasn't blindfolded this time and soon the vehicle that held the prisoner pulled up next to us. Brock, Gavin and I watched as Merrill placed compulsion on Claremont to answer all the Council's questions truthfully. Wow. Wlodek used Merrill more than I knew. We waited until the prisoner was escorted in ahead of us and then followed behind. My walking still wasn't up to par so Gavin carried me until we arrived at the cave entrance. He set me down there and he, Brock and Merrill walked slowly through the tunnel so I could keep up with them.

Claremont was already in the spotlight when we arrived, standing before the U-shaped table and chained head to foot. Wlodek, his face a bit grim, was waiting impatiently for us to arrive. He mentioned it to Merrill, chastising him for holding things up. Merrill nodded respectfully and we moved to a place at the left against the wall. Brock separated from us and took up a guarding position farther along the cave.

Wlodek and eight Council members, seated around the horseshoe-shaped granite table, had their faces of stone in place as they stared at Claremont. He knew he was going to die; I could see it in his eyes. I glanced up at Gavin. He, Merrill and I stood spaced apart, not touching one another. Somehow, I figured that touching would be frowned upon. Would they call on Gavin to deliver Claremont's death? I saw Sebastian standing on the other side of the cave. Perhaps he would do it and that made me wonder if he played with his kills first. Yeah, I didn't like him at all.

"Claremont," Wlodek addressed the prisoner, "you will answer the questions of the Council truthfully from this point forward." Wlodek was repeating Merrill's compulsion. Intrigue, indeed. Claremont nodded at Wlodek. "Now, what contact did you have with your sire after the initial two years you spent with him?" Wlodek was asking my question for me.

"He contacted me from time to time," Claremont answered. That caused a little stir around the stone table where the Council sat.

"And how did he do this?"

"I was expected to leave an address or some way to get in touch with a third party," Claremont replied.

"And who was this third party? Do you have a name?"

"He calls himself Xenides," Claremont answered.

"So, were you required to stay in contact with your sire through this Xenides? Did he have assignments for you?"

"Yes. Xenides often had assignments for me—he made sure I received these messages from my sire. I delivered things that he ordered I not open. He sent me to kill at times. To steal at other times."

Well, well, well. I wondered if Gavin's cousin, René de la Roque, had ever done anything at Saxom or Xenides' behest. René certainly had the penchant for theft.

"Did you see a pattern in any of these things at the time?"

"I was always told not to question," Claremont answered Wlodek's question, bringing me out of my mental side trip.

"Did any of these assignments have any lasting effects on the political state of affairs?"

Claremont named a few minor nobles and politicians he'd offed over the course of his life. There wasn’t anything done that would raise eyebrows more than a fraction. I wondered if those deaths meant personal gain for Saxom. Perhaps he was picking away at the threads of history, one strand at a time, instead. How could we know? Silently I begged Wlodek to ask if Claremont had killed any vampires. Wlodek did and Claremont answered.

"Reynard in 965, Nikolai in 1277 and Aurelius in 1422," he said. The last name caused Gavin to stiffen but he didn't say anything.

I might have asked about involvements with terrorists and such just to make sure, but Wlodek didn't go in that direction. Wlodek concluded his interrogation and asked the other members if they wanted to question Claremont. "Do you recall what your sire looked like?" A member on the far right asked. I remembered him; he'd voted for my death when I'd first been brought before the Council.

"I was instructed not to say," Claremont replied stiffly. The sire-child bond is a strong one; even Merrill's compulsion couldn't get past that. I didn't think for a minute that Wlodek was going to spell out my ability to smell the taint on Claremont to the entire Council. Charles and Radomir both were under his thumb; Radomir as his own vampire child and Charles as the child of his vampire child Flavio. Did vampires claim grandchildren? If so, that's what Charles was.

"How did you kill Nikolai?" Another Council member asked—a woman this time. She was the female who voted for my death. I wondered if anyone would care to put names with faces and scents for me. I'd never been formally introduced to most of them.

"My sire lured him into a trap where I was waiting," Claremont explained. "I beheaded him with my sword before he knew I was there."

"And the others, how did they die?" The black Council member asked. He'd voted for me in the beginning and I'd appreciated his support. All of them were still on my shit list, though, for having me beaten.

"In a similar fashion, only we lured Aurelius in with the lie that one of his children was dying. That he'd walked into the sun." Gavin stiffened again.

"And that worked?"

"Of course it did. He died easily and unsuspecting."

"Of course," the Council member muttered. His voice held anger and that surprised me. The mask had cracked just a little.

"Are there other questions?" Wlodek asked. He waited for a minute or two and there were none. "Very well, in the matter of Claremont, what say you?" Nine votes of guilty came swiftly, with Wlodek's being the ninth and final vote. "Let the record reflect that the guilty vote was unanimous," Wlodek said and Charles, in his usual efficient manner, tapped it all into his computer.

"I was going to ask Sebastian to perform this task should it prove necessary, but in light of the evidence given, I believe I will offer it to Gavin instead, if he desires it," Wlodek turned his gaze in Gavin's direction.

"I want it," Gavin growled, moving forward swiftly. Claremont was poised to beg for his life when Gavin, faster than a blink, had Claremont's head separated from his body. I knew two things, then. Aurelius was Gavin's sire, and Gavin would want to be alone tonight.

I was correct; Gavin asked Stephan to drop him off at his home, wherever that was. I still didn't really know. Merrill and I made our way out of the cave, Brock remained with us and he was the one to lift me up and carry me to the car.

"What did you understand from all of that, Lissa?" Merrill asked while Brock steered us away from the park.

"Do you really want me to say?" I asked. Normally I was left in the dark and had to keep my musings and discoveries to myself.

"Yes. I do," Merrill nodded. He was in the front seat of the Rolls with Brock and turned to look at me.

"Aurelius was Gavin's sire," I said. "And therefore René's, since Gavin told me they were turned by the same person. I'm disappointed, though, that Wlodek didn't ask if Claremont and his sire had any dealings with terrorists or with banking or anything else that might affect the economy."

"Lissa, you surprise me at times," Merrill said, not bothering to explain. He merely turned away and stared out the windshield.

Franklin and Greg were in bed by the time we got home. Brock was spending the day and accepted a bag of blood from Merrill before retiring around dawn. Huddling into my bed with a book, I reflected on the night's events. I knew Gavin was furious when he took Claremont's head, and that meant Gavin cared deeply for his sire. And Claremont? I didn't have a problem with his death. It was clean and swift and Claremont was an evil if I'd ever seen it.

Chapter 2

"René, I have news," Gavin said after phoning his cousin.

"I never thought to hear from you, Gavin, after the incident." René wasn't giving details—Lissa's injury in René's home still stood between them. René claimed it was a practical joke gone awry, but Gavin knew he'd truly been trying to take Lissa away.

"That was before the Council meeting tonight, René." Gavin's voice was clipped.

"What news do you have, then?" René was suddenly all business.

"The one who killed Aurelius was executed tonight. He claimed that Aurelius was lured in with the news that one of his children became injured by walking into the sun." Gavin waited patiently for René to stop cursing in French.

* * *

Gavin hadn't returned when I awoke the evening of March ninth. Greg and Franklin were dressed to go out and were only waiting for me to rise for the evening. Merrill had business to attend to, so Franklin asked if I wanted to go out with him and Greg.

"I don't want to hold you guys back," I said.

"You think you're going to hold two old geezers back?" Greg teased. Franklin was sixty-two; Greg was sixty-three. Of course, Merrill was probably two thousand or more, but who was counting?

"What should I wear?" I asked. I'd dressed in jeans and a sweater and wore one of my new berets. It and the sweater were cream in color.

"Just put shoes on," Greg said, pointing to my sock-covered feet.

I went to get shoes. I hadn't had an opportunity to go to London in well, forever, and the prospect of an evening out was certainly appealing. Franklin drove us to a restaurant first, where he and Greg ate a nice meal and I had a salad and a glass of wine. The waiter, who was family as Greg put it, tried to get me to eat more. I'm sure he thought I'd been ill—he'd noticed my baldness but was discretion itself over it. At least my fingers were longer now and not so noticeable as stubs, so it wasn’t horrible to hold a fork. I let the waiter know I was fine and left a nice tip when we finished.

We went to do a little shopping after that and I bought a dozen pairs of earrings at a department store. Greg and Franklin helped me make my selections and Frank paid with Merrill's card. Merrill still hadn't given me any money or credit cards but I did have my ID back. I also had a few pounds with me from my sock drawer, but it wasn't enough to pay for jewelry. I put a pair of earrings in my ears when we got back to the car. I know you're supposed to clean your earrings before wearing them but I was vampire and not susceptible to human diseases. The sun, though? Enough about that.

What shocked me was where Franklin drove us next; Greg and Franklin took me to a bar. Not just any bar—a gay bar. I think I was the only woman inside the place and I had to give my ID at the door. The man checking IDs was in drag, looked pretty darn good and asked what happened to my hair. I just told him I had the Sinead O'Connor thing going and he laughed and let me in.

"When's the last time you were in a bar?" Greg asked as we settled around a small table in a corner.

"I think I was in Sacramento, California," I said. "The person I was with wanted to do Karaoke."

"Funny you should mention that," Franklin said. "That's why Greg wanted to come here. He likes to sing."

Really?" I was interested, now. "What do you like to do?"

"All kinds of things. I wish I could do Barbra but I don't have the voice for it," Greg said.

"My favorite is Memory and he can't do that, either," Franklin said.

"If they let girls sing, I'd do it for you," I offered. "It's one of my favorites, too."

"We'll see if we can fix that," Greg said. We waited until they set everything up. This bar had a piano, which the one in Sacramento didn't have. Greg signed both of us up, but there were several ahead of us. Some were good, some not. I could see that they had some regulars there.

Greg did Embraceable You and he had a low, mellow voice that fit the song perfectly. I would have played the piano without the canned music when my turn came, but my fingers weren't whole, yet. Singing Karaoke was fun and I hadn't had fun in a while. The whole place was standing and clapping when I finished and came off the stage. Franklin hugged me when I made my way back to the table. We stayed for two hours and Greg sang again. He and several others tried to get me to sing something else but I told them I wasn't up to it.

"You looked awful hard at that piano," Franklin said once we were inside Merrill's Cadillac and on our way home.

"My fingers aren't healed up," I said. "Otherwise I would have played." He nodded silently at my explanation and drove away from London.

Merrill was there when we arrived and he surprised me by handing my laptop over. "You may have this but under no circumstances may you tell anyone what happened since your return," he said. I wondered what his reaction would be if I saluted him or something.

There were probably fifty emails from Winkler, quite a few from Tony and several more from Weldon. I sat at the kitchen island, plugged in the power source for my laptop (the battery was drained) and went through all my mail. Winkler sounded desperate. A wedding was in the works for him and Kellee, since she was pregnant and daddy was rushing things. Love (or in this case, sex) truly was blind. Honestly, Kellee might have more in common with a garden slug than she did with Winkler.

Winkler, stop hyperventilating, I wrote back. I wanted to tell him he'd gotten himself into this mess but I didn't. He was also asking why I hadn't answered his zillion emails, so I told him I'd been busy. Get Whitney to help, I suggested—she'd be good with wedding crap, I just knew it. If it were me, I might consider tossing Kellee through a wall. After she had the baby, of course.

I turned to Weldon's messages then. He thanked me for what I'd done for him, carefully skirting what happened before I'd been taken away. The tour was finished finally and he was happy about that. He said Rhett and Dalroy had done a good job but didn't have a sense of humor. I figured it was because they were a bit uncomfortable working with werewolves. I'd gotten a few smiles from Rhett and Dalroy the short time I'd been with them. Of course, I didn't point that out to Weldon. Instead, I wrote back and told the Grand Master to relax and enjoy some time with his part-time lady. I had no idea if or when I'd see him again but at least we could talk to each other through email.

Tony's emails came next. He should learn to be more circumspect and I told him that. He was the one concerned for my welfare, asking if I was all right. Well, he'd witnessed part of my verbal drubbing at a warehouse in Santa Fe, so it was no wonder he asked how I was. I told him I was fine and that he should reconsider buying crackers or wash his sheets more often if he was still having problems with crumbs in his bed. That was a joke between us now.  I didn't offer my new phone number and wondered if he'd track me down anyway.

There was one last email, from Charles. I opened it, feeling a little weird.

Lissa, I beg you, don't ever do anything like that again. I was almost ill when I saw you, he wrote. I never got the chance to thank you for my Christmas gift. I hardly ever get something like that and it was a breath of fresh air. The game is fun. I do that one and a few others when I have a spare minute. They teach me to slow down a little.

So. He'd seen me. I wondered what I'd looked like. Something like Gavin had when he'd been hit with the flamethrower in Florida, most likely. I had to think for a while before I sent a reply. Charles, I finally wrote, I appreciate your note. As for doing something like that again, I don't know that I'd have the courage a second time. I hope you are well—Lissa.

I had an answer from Winkler when I was done. He was asking why it took so long to write back.

Dad grounded me and I just got my computer back, I replied. Man, having a parent at forty-eight sucked. Yes, I was a year older now. My birthday had come and gone without any fanfare, last year in May. In two more months, I'd be forty-nine. My driver's license said twenty-three. I wondered if the Council issued new ones now and then, so we wouldn't be questioned about our ages. I also wondered what Merrill's looked like and how old his license said he was.

* * *

"I got a reply to my email," Charles picked up the stack of papers Wlodek had signed.

Wlodek focused dark eyes on his assistant. "What did she say?" He was very curious but didn't want Charles to know.

"She said she didn't think she'd have the courage to try it a second time."

Wlodek rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. Lissa would be a Queen if she weren't susceptible to compulsion. If she weren't, he didn't know what they could do. She might want to go after every rogue herself and there wasn't any way they could control her. He sighed, grateful for small favors.

* * *

Gavin came back two nights after the Council meeting. I hadn't tried to call and neither had he. He had some issues to work out; I understood that. And my toes and fingers were better but still not whole. No sign of stubble on my head, though. I wasn't an old vampire, like Gavin. His hair had grown back in record time.

"Honey, are you all right?" I asked him. He'd come into the room where the pool and hot tub were as I was reading. I'd wrapped myself in a long, fluffy white robe after soaking in the hot tub for a while.

"I am well," he sighed and lifted me up to sit on his lap.

Dropping my book on the floor beside us, I pulled his head down for a kiss. He pushed the hat off my head, stroked my face with gentle fingers and kept kissing me. I had no idea if the pool might need cleaning after Gavin and I got into it that night. Thankfully, we weren't interrupted.

Gavin was sent on assignment two days later and Lena came back the day after that. She brought a batch of fresh strawberries with her so she, Franklin, Greg and I made my version of a special strawberry dessert. "They sell this every year at the Arts Festival in Oklahoma City," I said. I just wished I could still taste it. Greg was in heaven, I think; he loved it.

"This is quite good," Lena was smiling as she ate her portion.

* * *

My fingers and toes were almost back to normal. I was only waiting for my nails to grow back. I hadn't tried to extend my claws as yet and since I didn't really need them, I didn't make the attempt. Merrill and I covered Vampire Law number eight later in his study. It involved what he called the Companion Vote.

"If a vampire wishes to take a human as a permanent companion and does not choose to turn them or the human does not wished to be turned, then they must petition the Council for approval," Merrill said. My legs were tucked under me in my chair. I only had socks on and Merrill didn't seem to mind.

"The Council has to approve it?" I asked. "How often does that happen?"

"Those women you saw at the annual meeting last year?" I nodded at his question. "At least a fourth of them are approved companions," Merrill informed me. "The vampires normally do not choose to attempt a turn on a female because the odds are very high that the turn will not be successful, as you know."

"Yeah. Lucky me," I grumped.

"As you say," he nodded. "Therefore, the records on the human, both female and male as the situation dictates, must be submitted to the Council by the requesting vampire. The Council has a subcommittee that reviews the records and makes a decision most often from those. If the Council approves, the vampire places compulsion on his companion not to reveal the race and for any other pertinent thing that might crop up."

"And if the Council does not approve?"

"As you may realize, requests are denied immediately should the human be famous or engaged in a high-profile position such as politician or film star. Those situations are only asking for trouble. There are other circumstances, which if present, will also result in a rejection. If the human has a criminal record, has too deep an involvement with close family who might discover the truth or is generally unsavory in character, those situations often require extensive investigation before a decision may be made. The full Council must vote on those."

"Wow," I said. "How often do these requests come in?"

"Wlodek says he gets an average of three per month. You must realize that some vampires change their companions often. Others keep companions for their entire life span and even provide for them if they become ill or disabled. It depends upon the vampire, just as it depends upon the human."

"And if the companion is not approved? I'm assuming that in some cases the human already knows what the vampire is?"

"In most instances," Merrill nodded. "Therefore, the human's memory must be altered with compulsion and the vampire is forced to let them go."

"Sounds like trouble brewing if the vampire truly cares about the human." I was watching Merrill's face and wondered yet again about the photograph I'd seen on his bedside table. I wasn't going to ask. Uh-uh. No way.

"Yes. Definite trouble at times. If the vampire refuses to give the human up, then they are both declared rogue and someone is sent to eliminate them."

"Oh, good grief," I muttered. "They're killed just because they love somebody?"

"The race must be protected. That is a higher law and much more important as a whole. Now, Wlodek and I have been wondering for a while just how it is that you know Anthony Hancock. We decided only two years ago that we would participate in his little experiment when he wished to form a special division within the FBI. Wlodek also monitors this closely and receives regular reports from the vampires who are employed there. I'm sure Mr. Hancock is aware that this happens and has not discouraged it. Weldon Harper also receives reports, I'm sure. In fact, Hancock notified Wlodek through channels of the attempt in New Mexico. We received certain information from him that was quite helpful. Weldon Harper was also notified and had people on standby as well. Then there you were, Lissa. You were kept ignorant purposely because of your youth and the potential volatility of the situation, yet there you came, leaping right in the middle of things."

"I see I'm a gigantic disappointment to you," I muttered, lowering my eyes.

"Lissa, did I say that?"

"Not in so many words. I had no idea if you knew anything, Merrill. What was I supposed to do? Sit there and wait after fooling Mr. Vampy and his bitch squad and hope you and Weldon came back? Is that what you think? I sure as hell couldn't call the police."

"I am upsetting you when all I truly want to know is how you met Anthony Hancock." Merrill's eyes were hooded.

"I met him in Port Aransas," I grumbled. I think I was pouting a little, too. "He was there on vacation. I met him at a bookstore. I went out with him a total of three times. Is that a crime? Gavin certainly thought it was and he and I didn't have a relationship at the time."

"Did you sleep with Hancock?"

All right, that was plain insulting. And none of his business on top of that. "No, I did not sleep with him!" I shouted, flinging out a hand. "And if you want verification, you can ask Gavin. He was checking!" I stalked out of Merrill's study.

* * *

Merrill watched Lissa walk away and sighed. As soon as he knew she was headed toward her bedroom, he pulled out his cell and called Wlodek.

"Yes?" Wlodek answered on the second ring.

"She didn't sleep with Hancock," Merrill said.

"Then it likely wasn't from a lack of desire on his part," Wlodek returned dryly. Merrill gave Wlodek information regarding Lissa's initial meeting with Anthony Hancock in Port Aransas and their three dates.

"And now he's calling her almost every day on her old phone," Merrill said.

"I have received requests through our vampire contacts in Hancock's department, asking for her assistance as well," Wlodek went on. "Hancock has something for which he greatly desires her help, and I have been toying with the idea of having him present it to me first. I only consider this because we owe him for his assistance and the information he provided on Saxom's turns in New Mexico."

"Do you think it will place Lissa in danger if we allow her to go?" Merrill asked. "I just offended her by asking if she slept with Hancock."

"We both know there are more of Saxom's turns out there. We also know one of them was sent to collect Lissa in New Mexico. It is most fortunate she managed to escape. Should they learn what her talents truly are, they will attempt to capture her again. And as she is susceptible to compulsion, they can force her to do terrible things. They could bring our race and every other race on this planet to its knees, if not destroy it outright. She is enough of a Queen for that." Wlodek wasn't mincing words. "If we send her to Hancock, it may remove her from potential danger—they will expect us to keep her hidden away after the incident in New Mexico. I hear Mr. Hancock only wishes to make use of her scenting ability and to provide an extra guarding presence for him. Xenides and Saxom's other whelps may attempt to search her out and take her, and they likely realize she is here, In England. You know that as well as I."

"Yes, I do know that," Merrill sighed. "How is the investigation proceeding in searching out Xenides and Saxom's other turns?"

"We don't have enough Enforcers or Assassins to cover the globe. These rogues could be anywhere, preparing to spring the worst sort of trap against us. This is the calm before the storm, I believe."

"I worry as well, and Griffin is more tight-lipped than usual on the matter."

"That is why we must take care if we send Lissa out again," Wlodek agreed. "In the meantime, Henri and Gervais are requesting a meeting with her. They wish to see if she can teach them how to mist more quickly. I doubt this is possible but it cannot hurt to allow her to try and perhaps it will bring her around a little."

"When?" Merrill asked.

"In two nights; Gervais will return from France tomorrow and Henri is asking for the night after, if we permit. They were also asking if Gavin's permission was needed, but as he is out on assignment, I will decide this for him. Bring her at nine. I will have the misters here by that time. She may spend the day as well."

"I'll have her pack a bag," Merrill sighed.

* * *

"Lissa?" Merrill knocked on my bedroom door. I was sulking on the sofa in my sitting area and the television was on but muted. I wasn't really paying attention to it, though—I had my own thoughts chasing through my head.

"Come in," I muttered. He heard of course and opened the door. My fingernails and toenails were growing in one thin layer at a time and I was rubbing the toes on my left foot, my knees pulled to my chest as Merrill strode in.

"Lissa, I apologize for offending you earlier. It's just that Tony Hancock has left message after message on your old phone and we have to be sure of his motives." Merrill walked toward me.

"And mine as well, I'm sure," I snipped.

"As you say," Merrill inclined his head slightly and settled on the sofa beside me.

"And it's not annoying or anything that you're monitoring my phone calls. I hate being treated like a child."

"Lissa, to us, that's exactly what you are. A young vampire who is still learning." Merrill wanted to place an arm around my shoulders, but as he wasn't sure of the reception he'd get, he held back. Just as well. I certainly wasn't in the mood.

"So, you want me to be Miss goody two-shoes," I said. "Do everything you say and never question a thing. Yet you send me out to guard the Grand Master and leave me blind. Or send me to Florida because you might need a mister. You don't send a six-year-old after thugs or terrorists, Merrill. You can't have things both ways. Feel free to pass that on to Wlodek. I warn you, though, beat me again and you may as well kill me. I won't submit to it." I stood and angrily walked away to pace at the foot of my bed.

Silence grew uncomfortably between us for a moment before Merrill spoke. "We know about your father, Lissa. And about your mother." Merrill's quiet statement stopped me in mid-stride.

I whirled to face him. "Is that why you beat me? Is it? Is that why that fucker Sebastian hit me in the head there at the end? I don't believe this." The tears came; I couldn't stop them. My father, or the one who'd been listed on my birth certificate anyway, had always claimed I wasn't his and there at the end he'd killed my mother and then did his best to kill me with blows to the head, shoulders and back.

Merrill got up but I held a hand out. "No, just stay away," my words were choked.

"Lissa, we didn't know at the time. We didn't find out until later. Let me hold you."

"No. Get the fuck away from me. I don't have a father. Have never had one."

"Lissa, that's not true. I care about you. As a father should. The beatings are generally accepted, the vampire recovers after a night or two, the lesson is learned and we go on."

"Merrill, if you say that to me again, I swear I'll find a way to take myself out and you won't be close enough to do anything about it next time. Don't ever try to justify a beating to me. Ever." I left my bedroom then, turning to mist as I ran out while Merrill was shouting behind me. I went straight to the roof. I didn't need to go out a crack and I'd only just realized it. I went through the ceiling, then through the attic and right through the roof. Rematerializing, I sat on the roof for almost half an hour, sobbing at times, before Merrill came to find me. He sat down nearby but didn't touch.

"Lissa, I was only trying to explain why beatings have been given in the past. There wasn't anything to justify what was done to you, either this time or during your childhood. Charles has managed to pull the court records of your case. We have the testimony—all of it." Merrill's blue eyes were begging me to understand.

"That's just great," I wiped tears off my cheeks with newly formed fingers. "Now everybody fucking knows."

"What do they know, Lissa?" Merrill's voice was gentle.

"That I got my mother killed," I wept. "My own fucking father claimed I wasn't his so he beat her, the whole time. Then, if he had any strength left, he'd start on me. If she tried to leave him, he'd beat her harder until that last time, when he finally hit her so hard he killed her. He beat me, then, blaming me for making him kill her. Explain that to me, Merrill. You're the old vampire. Tell me why people do this." My voice broke on a sob.

He sat there for a long time, silent. "I don't know," he said quietly. "Sometimes people look for someone else to bear the blame for their own mistakes or shortcomings. That blame can turn to anger and the anger to violence. Unfortunately, it is often leveled against the helpless and the innocent. Monsters exist in every race, Lissa. You have seen more than your share of them already. Gavin and I would never have agreed to the beating if we'd known what we should at the beginning.

His admission made more tears fall. They'd agreed. No wonder Gavin hadn't approached me for days. At least he felt guilty over it. After the fact.

"On another note," Merrill said, changing the subject, "Henri and Gervais, the two Enforcers who are also misters, wish to meet with you in two nights. They are intrigued with the way you turn to mist so quickly, and would like to speak with you about this. They desire to make their changes faster. Wlodek has given permission for this meeting to occur and has requested that you work with the brothers during an entire evening. Therefore, you will be spending the day as well."

"Perfect."

"Lissa, Wlodek will not allow you to huddle in a corner or wallow in self-pity. You must lift up your head and go."

"Until I'm as hard as he is?" My sleeve served to dry my face. The King of the Vampires required my presence, two nights hence. I didn't care how good he looked in a suit. He'd watched while I was beaten and I was naked, at the time. "At least he could have let me keep my clothes on." I didn't tell Merrill that someday, Sebastian and I might have a showdown. I could walk into the sun afterward if it was necessary. There was a taint about him, too; it just wasn't from being Saxom's get.

"Sebastian wasn't supposed to hit you in the head but the removal of clothing is customary," Merrill murmured.

"And how many females have they beaten?" I asked sullenly. Merrill didn't answer for a long moment.

"None until you," he replied. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to meet my gaze.

"Did it make them feel proud? Did they get their titillation, watching a naked female get beaten into the ground? Did it?" I was upset all over again and that wasn't what Merrill intended, I could tell.

"Lissa, I can't speak for the others but I was horrified. Horrified, too, that they let Sebastian perform the beating. None of the others wanted anything to do with it. Radomir flatly refused and he was the one Wlodek approached first. When Sebastian hit you in the head and knocked you unconscious, punishment was given to him, then. He disobeyed Wlodek."

"Yeah? I'll bet he got a hard slap on the wrist."

"Wlodek assigned him one blow in exchange for the one to your head."

"Oh, whoopee," I muttered.

"Gavin delivered it. One blow, to the back of the neck. It knocked Sebastian out and broke several vertebrae, according to Derlin.

"Fucker," I said.

"Gavin?"

"No. Sebastian. You need to watch him, Merrill. There's something wrong with him." I stood up, brushed myself off and then ran down the slope of the roof before Merrill could stop me, leaping off the edge and turning to mist before I ever hit the ground. If Merrill had a heartbeat, I figure it would have stuttered over that stunt.

* * *

"She frightens me," Merrill informed Wlodek the following evening. He described how Lissa had come off the roof the night before.

"Then place compulsion not to do those sorts of things," Wlodek replied.

"I am hesitant to place any compulsion on her at the moment. There is such fragility there and some of it is my own making."

Wlodek cursed a little in Greek. "What should we do, then? The law is the law."

"We didn't just punish her. We humiliated her. She thinks everyone there received some sort of sexual gratification from her beating."

Wlodek cursed again. "Did you tell her it is customary?"

"It didn't make any difference, but yes. And when she asked how many females had been beaten, I told her the truth."

"She isn't stupid."

"No. She is not. I realize that most of the others might have a pretty face and little else, Wlodek, but Lissa is different."

"I know that as well as you." Wlodek hung up.

* * *

"Come on, I like this one." Greg pointed to a human hair wig displayed on my laptop. He'd informed me that I couldn't go around bald all the time or wearing my hats because it was spring and summer would be coming soon.

"I like this one." Franklin pointed to a different wig with shorter hair. I had no idea human hair wigs could be so expensive. I was used to walking past a window in the mall with all the synthetic wigs on display, many of which sold for less than a hundred dollars, U.S.

"What about this one?" I tapped the screen, indicating a third option. "And it won't be embarrassing or anything if it falls off."

"Haven't you heard of tape and wig caps?" Greg asked, as if I should have known about that already.

"Fine," I said.

"I think you should buy all three," Franklin said, waving Merrill's credit card. "You'll have three styles to choose from, the lengths might be fun to play with and you can change your look. This is close to your natural color," he pointed to one of the shades offered. How many women can say they got wig help from experts? If I took all three, the total came to more than seven thousand dollars.

Greg didn't wait for me to back out or change my mind—he placed all three wigs in my online shopping cart, Franklin provided credit card information and they asked for next day delivery. Holy cow.

I didn't have any lessons with Merrill later so I went to pack my bag; the Vampire King said I was to spend the night and the following day. My toiletries were the only thing I left out. Greg and Franklin had picked up eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil for me on one of their shopping trips. No, I don't like drawing on eyebrows. At least there were the tiniest beginnings of hair in all the right places now. If I ran my hands over my head, I could feel the stubble. My poor eyelashes, though—I could see the barest hint peeking out and the same went for the eyebrows.

Merrill drove me to Wlodek's manor the following evening. I wore a hat and had another packed in my smallest bag. I'd decided not to dress up all that much. Right then, I didn't really feel like dressing up for anybody. I hadn't heard from Gavin either. Maybe he was waiting to hear from me. After I'd learned from Merrill that he and Gavin agreed to my beating, well, he could keep on waiting.

Rolfe answered the door before we arrived. I'm sure he heard the car drive up with his vampire hearing. Charles was standing expectantly behind Rolfe, waiting to take us up to Wlodek's study. We walked up two flights of stairs to Wlodek's private office and I found the two misters inside, waiting for me.

I didn't greet Wlodek, nod politely, or do that little bow. He'd lost my respect. I know—it's such a precious commodity and all that. It was all I had left—they'd stripped just about everything else away from me. Merrill said a few words to Wlodek instead and left after telling us he'd be back to pick me up the following evening. There was probably a lecture coming when he did.

Henri was the mister I'd seen in New Mexico. At least I had a name to put with his face and scent, now. He'd been inside the meeting cave the night I was beaten, too. That wasn't humiliating. His brother, Gervais, looked quite a bit like him. I knew Henri was the older of the two but not by much. Wlodek didn't look pleased when he introduced them to me and Charles took us to an empty bedroom afterward so we could work. The brothers both had black hair and deep brown eyes. They were also older than Charles—as vampires anyway. Not even close to Gavin, though.

"I watched you change so swiftly," Henri said, once Charles left us alone. He and Gervais did their best not to stare at my hairless state. I figured Wlodek had brought them up to speed on that.

"My timing has improved every time I change," I said, ignoring their curious glances. "I can mist immediately, now." It had become instantaneous; I'd proved that to Merrill two nights before.

"We wish to improve our time," Henri said bluntly. He and Gervais wore such hopeful expressions.

"Honey, I'm not sure how to go about that," I said. "But let's try something, first. Don't worry, when I touch you while I'm mist, you'll go to mist, too. You'll turn back as soon as I let you go."

Henri was looking very interested now. "I wish to do this first," he said. I nodded at him and turned to mist. Gervais sighed in jealous pleasure. Going to Henri, I touched him and he immediately became mist. It's strange; while I'm mist and turn someone or something else, they look like a part of my mist. I can see, hear and smell, still, but as tiny droplets or whatever, I don't see myself. I let Henri go after a bit and he rematerialized. He did a little exclaiming in French and it sounded like excited words and not profanity. I turned back.

"Your turn now," I nodded at him, so he set about turning to mist and Gervais timed it. He was invisible when he turned and Gervais was nearly jumping up and down; Henri had cut an entire minute off his time. As soon as Henri became solid again, Gervais wanted to go. We did. It was the same as before. Once we were both back to corporeality, he tried turning again. He cut more than a minute off his time. Henri turned again and he was even faster, this time—three minutes instead of the five that it normally took. Just as an experiment, I turned while Henri was still mist and received a small shock—while I was mist, I could see his mist particles. They were a pale green in color but I could see them. I did the same when Gervais turned next and his misty droplets were nearly the same color.

"So," I said after coming back to myself, "can you see each other if you're both mist at the same time?"

"No. We are invisible to each other. Why do you ask?" Gervais wanted to know. I lied. "I just thought since you're brothers, and all," I said, shrugging a little.

"Ah. No. It is unfortunate as it might help at times, since we cannot mindspeak." I nodded in agreement at that and we kept working.

We worked through the night until we were exhausted, but the brothers couldn't get their misting time below two minutes. They were still so pleased with that they dragged me out of the bedroom, found Charles and insisted we talk to Wlodek.

"Honored One, we have cut three minutes off our time," Henri was very happy. For a vampire, he seemed downright giddy.

One of Wlodek's eyebrows rose quite high. "Demonstrate," he commanded, dropping the inevitable gold pen onto the blotter covering his desk and leaning back in his chair. Henri obliged while Gervais timed it. Gervais handed the stopwatch to Wlodek when his brother's turn was complete. Wlodek's eyebrow went up another notch. Gervais turned next, just to prove he could. Wlodek gave me a speculative glance before turning back to the misters. "How did this occur?" he demanded. His question was aimed at the brothers instead of me, which was fine. I really didn't want to talk to Wlodek if I didn't have to.

"Lissa turned to mist and then turned each of us to mist with her," Henri explained. "We were faster, immediately after. Perhaps we became a part of her for a moment and then came away with a little of her ability."

"I will have to research this," Wlodek said softly. "Charles, bring those records," Wlodek nodded to Charles, who scurried away. "It is nearly dawn and I realize this has exhausted all of you, changing so much. Go have blood and then retire. We will not wake you tomorrow evening; we will wait until you rise in your own time." Wlodek gave us a brief nod, didn't meet my eyes and we all trooped out of his office.

"Merci, ma petite puce," Henri said as I made my way to the kitchen downstairs to find the fridge. Apparently, the brothers had their own blood supply upstairs with them. I didn't understand what Henri said but I could ask Franklin or Greg. They both spoke French.

Rolfe came into the kitchen while I was drinking. "Little Queen," he nodded at me while pulling out a bag of blood for himself. I think those were the first words he'd ever spoken to me.

"No. They say not," I said.

"Mmmph," he growled and walked out, drinking. That expression held contempt. Not for me—for them.

After placing my half-pint back in the fridge, I went upstairs and pulled the book I'd brought from my bag. I unpacked a few things, too—things I'd need for my bath the following evening. I was still reading when I dropped over in bed as dawn came.

* * *

Wlodek murmured in Greek as he removed the book from Lissa's hands and set it on the bedside table, then lifted the covers and slid her underneath. His fingers brushed her face carefully before he left to go to his own bed.

Chapter 3

Merrill was sitting on the side of my bed when I woke. I blinked at him, worried that I'd slept much too long. "Here she is," he said and handed a unit of blood to me.

The blood was cold as usual and I noticed that Charles was standing right at Merrill's shoulder, his hazel eyes twinkling and a hopeful expression on his face. "Hello, Charles," I grumped while I tore the top off the bag to drink. You'd think the sun had risen for the first time in a month the way Charles smiled at my less than receptive greeting.

"Lissa, there is a justified execution the Honored One wishes you to cover up, but we must go soon. You may bathe when you return," Merrill said, his manner a bit cool, although his face was in its usual expressionless mask. He was upset that I hadn't say hello to him as well. And the cover-up Merrill mentioned was part of an earlier lesson—to make any justified deaths appear to be accidents. Lovely.

Sliding off the bed while I drank my meal, I went in search of the clothes I'd laid out the night before. Charles politely took my leftover blood while I went into the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth. I had no desire to venture out and about with bloodstains between my bicuspids. Five minutes later, I was ready to go—shoes tied and everything. Wouldn't do to keep the vampires waiting. What shocked me when we walked out of Wlodek's manor, however, was the helicopter sitting on the lawn. Wlodek and Radomir were already inside it, waiting for us.

Merrill sat up front, giving me yet another surprise. I learned that he could also fly, and not just in the vampiric sense. The pilot asked if he wanted to take the controls. Merrill waved him off but put a headset on anyway while I was stuck in the back, wedged between Radomir and Wlodek. Radomir buckled me in, Rolfe shut the door and off we flew. They didn't tell me where we were going and I didn't ask. The trip took forty minutes and Radomir's face revealed nothing to me as we landed. I knew better than to offer Wlodek a questioning look.

"We cannot muddy the scene, Lissa, so you must either turn to mist or allow me to carry you," Merrill instructed. We'd set down half a mile from our intended location, in a quiet field filled with dry, dead grass. It was early March and green tipped shoots might make their presence known soon; a scented layer of expectancy lay about the land. At the moment, however, everything remained still and silently dormant. The imprints of the helicopter's landing skids might be a giveaway, too, if we'd landed closer. Grumbling to myself because I didn't know where we were going and would be following blind, I allowed Merrill to carry me. After pulling me up, he lifted a short distance off the ground and traveled swiftly, the tall dead grasses we rushed over whispering beneath us as we passed. Wlodek came along, flying right at Merrill's shoulder. Radomir stayed behind with the pilot, ready to come swiftly if assistance was required.

The house was old. If I were guessing, I would have said between one and two hundred years—the thick, heavy stone portion, anyway. A frame addition on the back looked much newer. The boards on the addition were painted a sunny yellow on the outside, a harsh contrast to the smell of death inside. Merrill settled me in the kitchen after elbowing his way through the open back door. Was I allowed to ask questions? Probably not. I was there to make things look like an accident. Walking carefully through the spacious, modern kitchen, we found the woman's body in a wide doorway leading into the older portion of the home. There were no visible wounds on her body and her head was still connected. Had I still been human, bile might have risen. I got the idea she'd been asphyxiated, which meant she died after minutes of terror. That in itself angered me—her death had not been swift or merciful. A pile of ash covered a rug nearby. Was this one of the killings Merrill had discussed during my last lesson? Had the vampire refused to give up his human companion? Fuck. The house certainly held the woman's as well as the vampire's scents. It also held Sebastian's; he'd performed the assassination. Another sniff brought an additional scent to me. Something fairly new. Oh, dear God.

"What happened to the baby?" I demanded, whirling around to stare at Merrill.

"There was no baby, Lissa, now do your job." Merrill's dispassionate expression gave way to a frown.

"Yes, there was," I insisted. Merrill reached out to grab my arm but I misted away from him, flying through the house while he shouted after me. I'll give Sebastian props for cleaning everything pretty damn good; he'd taken everything out of the house that was baby related except for one small thing—I misted beneath the bed in the mother's bedroom and found a dropped pacifier that had rolled underneath. The mother hadn't noticed or tried to retrieve it. It was chance. Providence. A miracle, perhaps. I grabbed up the small item and went back to Merrill and Wlodek, both standing in the kitchen waiting. Both angry. That didn't come close to what I felt.

"See?" I waved the pacifier under Merrill's nose, suppressed fury in my voice. "Where did that fucker take the baby? What did he do with it?"

"Lissa, that is not why we're here," Wlodek had gone completely stone-faced.

"No. It isn't, is it?" I hauled a kitchen towel off the cabinet and wrapped my hand in it, grabbed the kettle off the stove and dropped it in the sink. Then, my hand still wrapped in the towel, I turned on a stove burner and dropped the towel near the flame. It caught in seconds and bits of burning cloth dripped onto the floor. Eventually the kitchen caught fire, Merrill grabbed me and we flew out of the house swiftly, with Wlodek close behind. We waited nearby until the entire house was engulfed in flames. Was I furious? Yes. It was a cold fury I felt that night. I knew the child was dead. I'd smelled its death, along with that of its mother. Sebastian had killed a baby. The vampire's lover had been pregnant and given birth. No, the vampire hadn't been the father. Not only was that impossible, the baby didn't have the vampire scent about it. It was human, just as the mother was. Had they decided to have a child between them, by available means? Was that part of their crime?

The helicopter returned us to Wlodek's manor, the only sound that of the chopper flying us through a misty night. None of us spoke. Where were their lofty laws now? Were babies considered collateral damage if they happened to be in the way? I gathered my things, threw them into my bag and marched angrily out of the house. If it weren't Wlodek's home, I imagine I'd be cursing. Merrill wisely didn't attempt to speak to me on the drive home. The roof of his manor was the first place I went and I stayed there until nearly dawn.

* * *

"Charles," Wlodek said quietly after Merrill had taken Lissa away. "Find Sebastian. I wish to speak with him."

"Of course, Honored One," Charles replied, pulling out his cell.

* * *

Sebastian ignored the vibrating of his mobile phone. He was busy digging a hole far from the child's home. Lifting the bag that held tiny remains, he tossed it in first, heaving other items in after. He'd drained the baby before removing all evidence of it inside the home. Clothes, shoes, toiletries, everything that Sebastian could find went into the hole. A crib had been the only furniture involved, so it had been reduced to splinters in his hands, making it easier to carry. Sebastian was careful not to leave evidence behind that might reveal his indiscretion.

A large boulder over the covered hole was the final touch and Sebastian shook crumbs of earth from his claws before retracting them. Pulling the phone into his hand, he checked the message. Wlodek's number was displayed. Day was coming and Sebastian had to find cover. The Head of the Council could wait.

* * *

"Your package came," Franklin tapped a large box sitting on the kitchen island when I walked downstairs the following evening. He and Greg were preparing an evening meal. I was still depressed over the previous night's revelations, so I moved listlessly toward the box, slit it open with a slightly extended claw and peered inside. My wigs had come. Holding back a sigh, I pulled them from the box and checked them over.

"I found something to put them on," Greg grinned, hauling out three wig heads. Well, he and Franklin didn't need my depression. I made an effort to be more cheerful.

"Those wig heads resemble me greatly," I said, patting my hairless head. There was a bit more stubble, I suppose. My eyelashes and eyebrows were also making progress. Perhaps in three months I'd have something to be proud of, but there wasn't much there now. The wigs went on the heads first and I played a little with the hair.

"Here," Greg said, lifting one of the wigs off. He nodded for me to sit down and proceeded to place the wig on my head. "That looks good," he said. Franklin turned from his cooking to take a peek.

"It does," he agreed and went back to what he was stirring. The wig felt like a tight hat to me. Greg found a mirror and held it up so I could examine my new look. Turning this way and that, I arranged the hair a bit. It was a little coarser than my own but I couldn't complain; the color was good and it looked natural.

"I'm ready for my close-up," I quoted, fluffing wig hair. Greg hugged me.

We spent the evening, Franklin, Greg and I, shopping on the internet for clothes. Somehow, Frank knew I was upset—Merrill must have told him something. He and Greg were attempting to chase away my depression by teasing me and spending money. Greg had bought jeans and tops for me in London earlier as a late Christmas present, all in size four. Since I'd lost something after my bout with the sun, they fit. Franklin also ventured to tell me I was five feet tall instead of five-one, as I was before. They weren't kidding, I guess, about sunbathing making me smaller. Therefore, now that we had a proper size, we went looking for all sorts of clothing. We guessed at bra sizes; what I had still worked if I fastened them in the last hooks.

Franklin didn't even blink when our total for the evening turned out to be in the fourteen thousand dollar range; we hadn't gone to any of the cheap websites and Greg cheerfully added anything to the shopping cart he felt I needed. After they'd gone to bed, I broke down and called Gavin but it went to voice mail. He'd told me once that if he didn't answer, he was either busy or dead. I was hoping for the former. After leaving a short message telling him I missed him, I turned to other things. I did miss Gavin, although we didn't have the most perfect relationship ever. And if he and the entire vampire race would stop treating me like an infant, I might miss him more.

Merrill had gone out according to Franklin, so there was no lesson for the evening. I watched a movie on television instead—an old Hitchcock thriller. The early morning news came on afterward and the first article covered the kidnapping of three small children from a daycare in Wales. Parents were obviously distraught; the children were the last to be collected at the end of the day and someone had killed one of two attendants and knocked the other unconscious in order to take the children. The unconscious attendant was now recovering in a local hospital. She'd described her assailant as having blond hair and a small scar above his right eye. The police were searching for leads but hadn't come up with anything solid on the missing children, who ranged in age from one to four years. This was awful. The dead attendant had been strangled and there were no other witnesses. No vehicle had been sighted either, leaving investigators baffled.

The abduction bothered me very much, coming so soon after the baby incident with Sebastian. The house fire hadn't made it into the news, thanks to the kidnappings. Shutting off the television, I stood and yawned. Dawn was coming and if I didn't hurry, I'd be dropping in the bathroom floor while trying to brush my teeth.

* * *

"I left instructions for Sebastian to come tomorrow evening," Wlodek informed Merrill and Flavio. All were on a conference call set up by Charles; Wlodek was explaining that he'd contacted the Assassin. "We'll get to the bottom of this quickly. Lissa was wrong; I didn't find anything amiss at the home."

Merrill listened impassively. He was struggling with this and trying not to jump to conclusions where Lissa was concerned. Flavio was agreeing with his sire, sure that it was all a mistake. After all, Lissa's emotional state was still fragile; he'd spoken with Charles. Wlodek promised to keep them informed, the call was terminated and they all went looking for beds.

* * *

"Cara, I was very happy to get your message." Gavin called me back. The phone was ringing before I was fully awake for the evening.

"Honey, I just woke up," I mumbled after fumbling to answer the call. Sleep was keeping me from articulating a better answer.

"I know, love," there was a smile in his voice. "I wish I were there to see it."

Well, weren't we Mr. Honey Tongue tonight? "Darlin', are you all right?" I asked, the Oklahoma accent that I normally tried to hide thick in my voice. Gavin worked to cover a chuckle when he answered.

"I am very well. At times, I wish you were here with me. The assignment has become a little boring."

"Yeah, maiming and killing always make me feel the same way," I said without thinking. Gavin laughed. He actually laughed. That hadn't happened in a while. Of course, I hadn't felt like cracking jokes lately, either. I couldn't ask him where he was or what his assignment entailed; I wasn't supposed to know. If he died somewhere, would they bother to tell me?

"I purchased something for you," Gavin said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I will bring it home with me when I am finished here," he teased.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" I asked. "Now I'll spend the rest of the night wondering what it is."

"That is what I hoped for," he said.

"You want to make me crazy?"

"You will not be bored."

"Is it a crossword puzzle book?" I was never good at those. He chuckled softly.

"No, cara. I would not do that to you."

"Good, because I'm hopeless at that."

"I will keep that in mind."

A knock came while Gavin was on the phone. I slid off the bed to open my door, finding Merrill on the other side. "Honey, Merrill just came in," I said.

"Then I will let you go, bella mia."

"Yeah, well, I love you, too," I said. Gavin was laughing again when he hung up.

"That isn't what he said," Merrill informed me.

"I know that, I just didn't know how to reply," I grumbled, hanging my head a little. At times, I felt so inadequate around Merrill and Gavin. I was bilingual if you counted pig Latin as a second language.

"How much Italian do you know?" A smile teased the corners of his mouth.

"Tiepolo," I said. "Giotto. Michelangelo. Caravaggio. Bernini. The list goes on."

"Which of those is your favorite?"

"Bernini. Hell of a sculptor," I said. "Not much to look at, according to his self-portrait. Had a bit of a nose," I tapped mine. "Did you meet him?" Well, he could have.

"No." Merrill was definitely smiling, now. "I was not in that country at the time."

"Dang. And there I was hoping you'd commissioned a piece or something."

"Sorry," Merrill was still smiling.

"Caravaggio is my second favorite of those, although he did manage to get into some trouble," I said. "Died before forty. Kind of a shame, I guess."

"Was he your favorite Baroque artist?"

"No. You're forgetting Vermeer, Rubens and Rembrandt," I reminded him.

"And yet you gave the Rembrandt to me."

"I kept the Vermeer."

"Yes, you did. I have it in a vault," he said.

"Good. Temperature okay in that vault?"

"Yes."

"Did you want something?" I wondered why he'd come in to begin with—he usually didn't knock on my bedroom door first thing.

"If you will get dressed, Charles will take you into London," Merrill said. "He will drop by in about an hour." Merrill looked at his watch and then at me. "I will give your credit card back to you and a few pounds in case you need cash for something," he added.

"Really? You're letting me leave the house?"

"Yes. Greg and Franklin wished to have some time out alone and Charles has requested the night off to see a motion picture. Go and amuse yourself."

I got my credit card and five hundred pounds. Who knew that five hundred was a few pounds? I wore one of my wigs, Merrill seemed to approve and I went out the door when Charles came.

"That looks nice. Almost like your normal hair," Charles gave my wig the once over as he opened the car door for me.

"Uh-huh," I said. "Where are we going?" I settled into the seat and buckled in while Charles closed the door and trotted to the driver's side.

"Let's go to a movie and then have a glass of wine someplace," he said, shutting his door and starting the car. A movie sounded like heaven to me—a promise to take my mind off my troubles. Charles drove us into London in his powerful sports car he calls the Lizard King. It has a gecko logo on it and he drives it like a maniac at times. It was a good thing I was vampire. Him too, actually.

"Do you arrive sometimes before you leave?" I asked, teasing him a little. We were going quite fast down the highway.

"Are you suggesting that I time travel?" Charles gave me a nice smile.

"I think I saw your clock running backward," I pointed to it on the dash.

It was Friday night and there was a line to buy tickets for the movie when we arrived. Wishing I could still eat popcorn, I shot a wistful glance at the concession stand before following Charles to our theatre. The film was a comedy and we laughed in all the right places. Charles is a good companion and I always enjoy his company. He is never judgmental and sometimes it's hard to hold back because I can't ever confide in him. He works for Wlodek after all and is Flavio's child. I could have a good time with him, though, and I did.

We went to a very nice bar afterward. Charles and I sat across from each other in a booth and had a glass of wine. We were discussing the film we'd seen when someone walked up to our table. I knew he was vampire at least three seconds before he arrived, just by the scent. "Hello, Charles, what are you doing in," his head swiveled so fast in my direction it was almost frightening. "Christ," he muttered, staring at me.

"Behave yourself, Bryan," Charles admonished quietly, sipping his wine.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Bryan was still staring.

"Sit down, Bryan, I'll order a drink for you," Charles grumbled. Bryan did sit. Right next to me. I scooted over a little. He wanted to come along but thought better of it; he'd spotted Gavin's ring.

"Charles, I never thought you'd," Bryan wasn't finishing his sentences.

"I didn't. That's Gavin's ring." Charles motioned for our waiter. Bryan held off until his drink order was taken before speaking again.

"Yeah. Trust the Aristocracy to have first shot at everything," he grumbled. I was looking from Charles to Bryan as if I were watching a tennis match. Now I stared at Charles with a question on my lips but didn't ask it.

"Lissa, this is Bryan Riley," Charles nodded at Bryan. "He works as an assistant to one of the local television news producers. Night crew, of course. Bryan, this is Lissa Beth Huston, Gavin's fiancé and Merrill's adopted daughter."

"Holy Christ. A double whammy," Bryan murmured. His drink was delivered and he thanked the waiter absently. "Charles, how long has it been since?"

"Over seven hundred years," Charles muttered. Of course, we all heard the near-whisper perfectly. Now I knew what they were discussing; this wasn't the first time I'd heard rumblings over the first female turned in seven hundred years. That meant, of course, that all those other female vampires—all fifteen or so of them—had to be over seven hundred years old. No wonder Merrill treated me like a child at forty-eight.

"So, assistant to the producer, huh?" I said to break the silence.

"Yes. Bryan sometimes knows the night news ahead of everyone else," Charles sounded cryptic. "He makes sure it gets to the proper place."

"Ah." If a vampire might be involved in a crime, I figured the calls might come to Charles first and he passed them along. Not bad. "So, what's the latest on the kidnapping in Wales," I asked. "Have you heard anything?"

"Terrible," Bryan said, shaking his head. "They found all three children in a flooded ditch with their throats cut."

"Oh, dear God," I said. Those parents had to be devastated. "Did they find the one who did it?"

"Not yet. There's very little to go on." Bryan sipped his wine. He was around five-eight or so with muddy blond hair that was styled well. It looked as if someone had reached a hand in and tousled it a little. He had a thin face but wasn't bad looking for all that, with warm brown eyes and a nice smile when he did smile.

"So, how long have you been working at your job?" I asked.

"Six years. I'll have to give it up soon and trade off with someone else," he replied.

"So, there's more than one of you doing this?"

"Of course," he nodded, toying with his wine glass. "I'll trade with someone in Paris or Edinburgh. Maybe Dublin, even."

"Well, that's enlightening," I said. "Do you like it or would you rather be doing something else?"

"It's all right," he shrugged. I understood his response—he received precious little thanks for what he did. Charles most likely didn't receive much praise either, but I knew that Wlodek wouldn't keep him if he weren't exceptional in his job.

"I don't think they'd keep you in a position like this if you weren't very good at it," I told Bryan. "So that means you must be outstanding."

"He is," Charles agreed. "I get things from Bryan before I get them from anyone else."

"A compliment? I must be dead or dreaming," Bryan sighed.

"You are compensated, just as the others are," Charles huffed.

"But a good word never goes amiss," I added. Bryan was nodding at my assessment.

"So, what are you two doing in London?" Bryan asked as we settled in to talk.

I liked Bryan and we traded phone numbers and email addresses before we parted. We'd ordered three glasses of wine each but the last ones were only partially finished when Charles told me it was time to go.

"It was a true pleasure," Bryan kissed my hand as we said our goodbyes. He was slightly younger than Charles, I could tell.

"So, it doesn't hurt to have vampires in the media since they're often on the scene shortly after the authorities are," I said, once we were inside Charles's car.

"Yes, and they can tell quite a bit of the time if a vampire or werewolf was involved. That information comes to me and I pass it on. Wlodek, Russell and Flavio decide if someone needs to be sent out and who that someone needs to be since the talents and expertise of the Enforcers and the Assassins must to be taken into account."

I wondered what Sebastian's talents were, but didn't ask. I guess if you needed a thug sent, he was your vampire. It still bothered me greatly about the baby and I wanted to ask Charles what the vampire policy was on that, but held back. The baby was dead. I knew that and nothing could bring it back now.

"Merrill asked me to take you one last place before we went home," Charles shifted gears as he drove through London.

"Where's that?" I asked curiously, watching Charles drive. He truly enjoyed driving and it was likely Wlodek didn't let him out often to do it.

"It'll be a surprise," Charles allowed a smile to curve his lips. He was handsome and even more so when he had a bit of a devilish grin on his face. I was quite surprised when we parked on the street not far from St. Paul's Cathedral.

"Merrill made arrangements for someone to meet us here," Charles said, opening my door for me.

"You mean we don't actually fry if we go inside a church?"

"Nope. Come on," he pulled me along behind him. "Holy water doesn't work either," he snickered. "Although it might piss a vampire off if somebody threw it at him." Someone did indeed allow us inside, and I stared at the beautiful, vaulted interior, remembering a time in my distant past when I'd gotten up very early one morning and watched on television as a prince married a princess inside those walls. We thanked the clergyman before we left and Charles passed over what looked to be a very generous donation as we walked out the door.

* * *

"Radomir, try the number again." Wlodek was pacing inside his library. It was more spacious than his study and he'd chosen it to accommodate Merrill, Radomir and Flavio as they questioned Sebastian. Only Sebastian failed to appear as instructed. Wlodek, Flavio and Merrill had shared a bottle of wine among the stacks while they waited. Radomir pulled out his cell and tapped numbers quickly. It rang many times before going to voice mail. Wlodek cursed while Radomir left yet another message. Sebastian had agreed to be there four hours earlier. He'd never arrived, pointedly ignoring a command from the Head of the Council. Wlodek even sent Rolfe out to search for the missing Assassin earlier, but found nothing. Three of Wlodek's spies were also ordered to watch the three known residences that Sebastian registered with the Council. Sebastian hadn't visited any of them.

Radomir closed his phone and glanced at Wlodek. "It is not your fault, child," Wlodek jerked his head angrily. Merrill watched Wlodek silently. Any one of a number of things might have occurred, but his suspicions were now being raised and he didn't have a good feeling about any of it.

* * *

"Lissa, come," Merrill held out a hand to me the moment Charles and I came through the door. Rolfe nodded slightly to me when I walked in so I gave him a smile. Merrill stood just inside the door, waiting for me when we arrived. He held a hand on my shoulder while we walked out to his Range Rover, put me inside it and then climbed in himself. Merrill asked about my night out but was distracted, I could tell. Something had happened; I just didn't know what it was. I told him I'd had a good time, thanked him for the visit to St. Paul's and left it at that.

"Lissa," Merrill said after we'd gotten home and parked the Range Rover in the garage, "Wlodek has agreed to lend you to Anthony Hancock's department for a few weeks. Hancock wants additional security for a few functions, I believe, and has been begging for your help." The announcement shocked me a little, coming so soon after I'd been grilled over my three dates with Tony.

Tony. I hoped he wasn't planning to try to get me in bed with him the entire time. "When?" I asked.

"In two days. Russell and Radomir will accompany you in the Council's jet. They're taking you to Dulles International. Someone will be there to meet you."

"All right," I sighed. "I'll pack up tomorrow." Merrill was correct; Wlodek wasn't allowing me to huddle in a corner or wallow in self-pity. He was sending me out again less than a month after my stint in the sun. Humans received therapy. Vampires received assignments.

"I'm sending Franklin to New York in three days," Merrill came over to stroke my cheek with gentle fingers. "He and Greg will be in the states if you need anything." I nodded mutely at Merrill's words.

"Does Gavin know?" I asked after a moment.

"I phoned him earlier with the news," Merrill replied. "Of course he was not happy."

That might be a huge understatement. If Gavin knew I was going to be working anywhere near Tony, the jealous rages would come, I was sure of it. I was glad Merrill made the initial call; Gavin had to mind his manners with Merrill. I nodded at Merrill's statement and walked toward the stairs. As a form of rebellion against Wlodek, I planned to dress in pajamas and huddle in bed to read.

* * *

Franklin asked if I needed anything from town while Greg helped pack two of my wigs the following evening. Greg gave Frank the list of toiletries I needed after going through my bathroom and cupboards. The clothing we'd ordered online arrived so we spent some time going through it and washing what needed washing before packing up what I wanted to take with me. At least my fingers and toes were completely normal now, with finger and toenails. My eyelashes were short but they were there; my eyebrows were also short but there. Greg insisted on packing the eyebrow pencil and eyeliner he'd gotten for me. The man was better at that sort of thing than I was. Franklin just smiled at his honey and let him do his thing.

"There's a land line in the New York apartment," Franklin made sure I had that number. "And you already have our cell numbers. The address on your New York license is the brownstone that Merrill owns. If you get into trouble, head for that right away." Franklin and Greg kissed me on the cheek before they went to bed. Yeah, I loved both of them.

Tuesday, March thirtieth found me riding with Merrill into London so he could drop me off at the airport. Russell and Radomir were there waiting and my four bags were loaded quickly. Merrill leaned down to kiss my cheek before I climbed the steps to the jet, with Russell and Radomir right behind me. "Don't get into trouble," Merrill called before I went inside.

The door to the jet was shut and locked behind us; Radomir sat next to me with Russell across the aisle. This was how we'd sat the last time the three of us had been on a jet together. I'd flown to Paris to steal something back from Gavin's cousin René. I wondered what René was up to and if he'd stolen anything lately. That caused me to snort a little while the jet was speeding down the runway for takeoff.

"What is it?" Radomir asked.

I decided to be honest. "I was just wondering if René has managed to steal anything recently." Russell laughed aloud. Radomir smiled.

"I heard someone sent him enough glass panes to replace his window, all with tape on them," Russell grinned.

"I don't know a thing about it," I said, claiming innocence.

The flight was uneventful until we almost got to the states and then we ran into turbulence. We were knocked around pretty good and a couple of times I wondered if vampires could survive plane crashes. Thankfully, we didn't have to test any of my theories and Russell and Radomir, along with the pilots, were mighty glad they were spending the day in in D.C. and heading back to Great Britain on Tuesday evening.

My ride was waiting for me when we taxied in. Tony and a vampire I hadn't met were there with the usual, government-issue dark car. The vampire helped get my luggage stowed while Tony stood by looking important. He didn't say much, loaded me into the back seat of the car while the vampire agent slid into the driver's seat and we drove away after I said goodbye to Russell and Radomir.

"Lissa?" Tony turned in his seat to look at me.

"What, Tony?" He motioned for me to lean forward. I shouldn't have because he had my face in his hands immediately, kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

* * *

"What did you have to do?" Merrill asked Griffin. Griffin had arrived unannounced two nights after Lissa's near-suicide in the sun and put his hands on her. Things were much better since then, but Griffin hadn't returned until now. He'd brought a bottle of wine with him and he and Merrill were sharing it.

"Just a minor suggestion that you and Gavin weren't so terrible after all. Of course, if she becomes upset again, well," Griffin shrugged his shoulders a little.

"She refuses to look Wlodek in the eye."

"Would you?"

"If I'd been through what she has, probably not," Merrill muttered.

Chapter 4

"Tony, stop." I had to pry his hands away so I could sit back in my seat. "What was that all about?" I asked, my voice breathless from the extended bout of kissing.

"You think I don't hear anything?" he huffed. Well, that was unexpected.

"What did you hear?" My arms were crossed over my chest and I was still shaking a little from the aftermath of Tony's determined kissing. He shouldn't be doing that. Shouldn't.

"Lissa, don't ever do that again," Tony lectured. He knew. No way to know how he knew, but he did.

"Tony, before you start in like that, make sure you have all the facts," I said, turning my head to look out the window. Four weeks had passed since I'd tried to kill myself. Four weeks since I'd been beaten. I struggled to put it out of my mind as I watched portions of the nation's capital pass by my window. The streets we drove through were foggy and wet from rain that had fallen earlier; the streetlights we passed reflected off damp pavement. Light mist continued to fall as we made our way somewhere; I had no idea where we were going.

As it turned out, we were going to Tony's home somewhere in Arlington, Virginia. "This is Agent Ken White," Tony introduced the vampire driver to me when we arrived. He held out his hand so I shook it before unloading my luggage. Most men might feel intimidated by a woman who can lift your car, but Tony didn't seem to mind. Agent White didn't stick around either; he dropped the last bag in Tony's entryway, said it was nice meeting me and took off. I hoped Tony had a second bedroom—I didn't want to sleep with him and Gavin would likely tear both our heads off if I did.

"You can sleep in here," Tony led me to a small bedroom that held a full-size bed. "The closet is empty so you can hang up your clothes. I don't suppose you'd consider using my room instead?" There was such a look of hope on his face.

"Tony, do you see this?" I fingered my ring. "Both of us would die if I even considered it."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he mumbled. "You have your own bath in here," he pulled me toward a small door in a corner of the room. It led into a small but tidy bathroom with a shower only, no tub. No matter, I didn't usually take baths anyway.

"You have a nice house, Tony," I told him. It was nice and in the neighborhood where he lived, it was probably quite pricy, too.

"I hope you like it. We'll be doing some traveling before long," he said. "I'll fill you in tomorrow night." Dawn wasn't far off and I needed to unpack a little before getting ready for bed. "Goodnight, Lissy." Tony kissed me again before I could stop him and walked out of my temporary bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Tony had placed something on the windows, I learned. They were completely blocked with some sort of film and I couldn't see through them at all. I examined them carefully while I brushed my teeth, pulling the patterned curtains aside to make sure. I had a cooler of blood with me too, plugged into a wall socket so it would stay cold. The key was in my purse, just in case. My bed was comfortable, but it didn't really matter once dawn came.

* * *

"Lissa, what happened to your hair?" Tony walked around me, inspecting my hairless state when I woke and found him in his kitchen the following evening. I hadn't bothered to put on a wig.

"I thought you heard," I said, repeating his words from the night before.

"I guess I didn't expect that." He ran a hand over the top of my head. "It's growing back," he said.

"Slowly. Hair doesn't grow that fast on my kind," I grumped. "I barely have eyelashes and eyebrows, now. Lost the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes." I wiggled my fingers for him.

"Lissa, why did you do that?" He pulled me into an embrace. He was warm. Humans were so warm. It would be wonderful if I could relax into his embrace and let him have the tension and worry for a while. I just couldn't.

"I'm not allowed to discuss it," I said. He held me away from him.

"Lissa, I'm very good at keeping secrets," he said, gazing earnestly at me. Tony has the nicest gray eyes and his good looks, coupled with black hair means he's not hard to look at.

"I know, but I still can't talk about it. Not now. Maybe someday." I pulled away from him. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"I was going to throw something in the microwave."

"Tony, is that any way to live?" I put hands on my hips. "Tell me you have something to fix in that nice stainless steel refrigerator of yours." I jerked my head toward the appliance in question. We went digging around in it before going to scavenge in the pantry. He ended up with chicken and noodles and the chicken was canned chicken but he liked it. "If I had more time, I'd restock your kitchen," I said while stuffing dishes in the dishwasher. I'd found a boxed brownie mix in a cabinet, so that's what Tony was getting for dessert. The brownies were almost ready to come out of the oven and the scent filled Tony's kitchen. Chocolate still smelled heavenly to me—it just didn't taste the same.

"We can go grocery shopping tonight," Tony suggested, grinning at me. "There's a twenty-four hour market not far away. You can get anything you want. Stock me up, Lissa."

"What do you want for dinner tomorrow night?" I asked.

"Italian?"

"All right. I'll see if they have some Italian sausage and I'll make lasagna or something." Tony ate three brownies before we went out. Two cars were parked in Tony's garage; we chose the Escalade for the room in the back. It was a hybrid, too. I was proud of him and told him so. That seemed to make him happy.

"Salad?" I asked later as we strolled down the produce aisle.

"Yeah."

"How long are we going to be in town?" I asked, before putting fruit in the basket.

"Only two more nights," he said, sounding a bit disappointed as he tossed bananas in the cart.

"Then put half those bananas back," I said. He did. We found ingredients for lasagna and bought chicken breasts for a second meal. Tony picked out wine and we went through the check out.

A wide yawn nearly cracked Tony's jaw when we carried bags into the house, so I sent him to bed and put the groceries away. I read and watched television for a while afterward, almost shouting at the television screen when I heard that two schoolchildren had been abducted near Shrewsbury in England. I went to grab my laptop, discovering via the internet that Shrewsbury wasn't far from Wales. The journalists were drawing the same conclusion I was; that the man responsible for the other kidnappings was likely involved in these as well—he was still on the loose. The authorities were taking a cautious approach to the entire thing, warning everybody not to jump to conclusions while they were still investigating. Dawn was coming so I went to bed, still fuming a little.

* * *

Tony didn't get spaghetti or chicken. Not as scheduled, anyway. I woke inside a body bag and almost had a claustrophobic fit before he could get me unzipped. "Sorry, Lissa, sorry." Tony was apologizing and trying to block my body from the scrutiny of two men who stood behind him. I'm sure it was the claws; they were out and my eyes were most likely red. At least I wasn't hissing. The floor was also rocking slightly beneath us and that shouldn't be.

"You're on a Navy ship," Tony explained as I drew in my claws. He stepped away from me then.

"Tony, I hope you have a really good explanation for this." I felt like shouting it at him, but we had witnesses so I reined in my temper. That still wasn't good enough for one of our witnesses.

"You allow her to speak to you like that?" The one wearing the white uniform with plenty of little doo-dads on his left breast snapped. He was a bit on the chubby side and probably referred to himself as portly. A balding head topped off a round face with thinning lips, as if he disapproved of most everything.

"She's a civilian and didn't exactly agree to this mission," Tony said, turning and staring the man down.

"Is that why you stuffed her in a body bag?" The man dressed in dark blue asked. He had a few doo-dads but not as many as portly guy. He was also taller and thinner, with thick brown hair that curled a little.

"For the most part," Tony answered. My body bag was sitting on top of some sort of bunk; Tony helped me out of it while I glared at him. He knew he was in trouble. He also didn't seem to care. I'd figured part of this out, at least—we were on a ship and the guy in the white outfit was Captain Nemo or something. I was still dressed in my PJs and without a wig so I was even more bald that Captain Nemo. He was still frowning at me, by the way.

"This is the one you brought for the mission?" Nemo was incredulous as I stood before him in my sleeveless stretchy top and striped cotton pajama bottoms. If I glanced downward, I'm sure my nipples would be showing through the stretchy top. I kept my gaze level and hoped my audience would do the same. "Don't criticize," Tony warned the two men. I got the feeling he didn't appreciate the audience any more than I did. "Lissa, I brought some clothes for you and there's a bathroom right through there," he pointed to a door off to the side, only it was made of metal, as was the wall around it. "If you gentlemen will excuse us, I need to have a few words with my agent, here." Tony was giving orders and Captain Nemo wanted to grumble, I could see it in his eyes. He saluted smartly instead, as did the other guy and they left, closing the outside door behind them.

"I'm sorry, Lissa, but this just came up. It couldn't wait and I knew you could do this better and faster than anybody else." Tony was talking quickly, his gray eyes pleading with me to understand.

I was standing there, barefoot on a cold metal floor, listening while Tony defended his decision to haul me into international waters. My arms were crossed over my chest against the cold and to hide my protruding nipples, so I blew out a calming breath. "Tony, where are we?" I asked as sedately as I could. He'd just exposed me to two Navy officers for some reason and I wanted an explanation.

"The Arabian Sea, near the Gulf of Aden," he replied. All right, my geography needed improving. "Off the coast of Somalia," he added.

"Pirates," I said.

"Yeah." Tony looked uncomfortable for a minute. "There's something else, Lissa."

"What's that?" I looked up at him.

"I forgot your blood. I remembered your clothes, even your toothbrush, but I didn't think about the blood."

"Tony, if you're going to deal with what I am, that's the first thing you have to think of," I said. "Fuck. Now what?" My fingers would have run through my hair if I still had any. The stubble seemed to be improving, though.

"You'll have to feed from me tonight. I'll find somebody else for later if we have to." He pulled me into a hug. "Lissy, I messed this up for you but the opportunity was too good to pass up. You can do this for me. The pirates have a hostage and it's somebody important."

"Tony, I don't want to feed from you." I leaned away from him. "Do you know what happens if I do that? With a warm body?"

"No. It won't be that bad though, will it? Can you do it so it won't leave marks?"

"I can do it so it won't leave marks," I huffed. "But there's a side effect besides the symptoms of just having donated blood."

"What's that?" Tony led me to the bunk and pulled me down to sit beside him.

I had to clear my throat before I could tell him. "You'll, uh—do you have a change of underwear, Tony?" He lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"Why would I need one?" He wasn't getting it, and he was in charge of national security. Me? I was embarrassed—and not in charge of anything.

"You'll need it," I glanced down at his khaki slacks. He might get away with it if he'd worn black or some other dark color. With those pants, he didn't need the humiliation.

"You're kidding?" The light was finally coming on and he blinked at me.

"No."

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

"Here." He unbuckled his belt and slipped his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Okay, that was a sight I wasn't truly prepared for. Tony grabbed my stretchy cotton top and lifted it over my head before I could squeak out a protest. Seems vampires and werewolves weren't the only ones with no modesty.

"Hey!" I said, watching while he wrapped my top around himself. Too bad, too—it was something to see.

"Now, get to it, we have someone to rescue," he said, impatiently pointing to his neck. Well, this was going to be awkward. I ended up almost in his lap; biting while your donor is sitting down isn't the most graceful thing to do, I learned. Gripping the back of his neck, I placed my forehead against his.

"I won't hurt you," I said and kissed him gently. Tony stole a second kiss before I could stop him. I had to place a hand over his mouth before lowering my head. The pulse throbbed strongly in his arteries and I could scent and almost taste him before placing another, softer kiss over his carotid. My fangs sank into his skin and I drank.

Tony came. Oh, boy did he come. And he enjoyed it too, if those little sounds of pleasure were any indication. I licked his neck three times, just to make sure the skin was healed before backing off. A dazed smile lit his face as I slid away from him. "Lissa, I love you," he turned orgasm-clouded gray eyes toward me.

"Yeah, you and a bunch of other guys," I said. Turning his attention to his lap and my now ruined top, Tony cleaned himself up, tossed my top into a nearby wastebasket and dressed himself again.

"Lissa, if I had time," he walked over to me and brushed a knuckle over one of my bare nipples.

"Yeah, you and a bunch of other guys," I repeated while taking his hand away. "Where are my clothes? Thanks for the blood by the way. You're really quite tasty." I hadn't had warm blood in a while and Tony's had been an exceptional treat. "You should eat something, I think. While I clean up." I walked into the bathroom.

A duffle bag stood in a corner of the tiny bathroom and it held a couple pairs of jeans, three tops, bras and underwear, along with two pairs of athletic shoes and one of my wigs. Soap and other toiletries were out on the minuscule sink. The shower was pretty much a joke but I couldn't be picky, I guess.

I was clean and dressed when Tony came back with a cup of coffee in his hand. "I ate," he held up a hand. "And I want to talk about what happened later. Come on." He motioned for me to follow him, so out the door we went, through several narrow corridors and up two sets of steps until we got to the deck. The Navy certainly bought a lot of gray paint, I noticed as we walked along. Eventually we came to another door. Tony stopped there, opened it imperiously and led me inside a room occupied by the two men I'd seen earlier, a few crew members and banks of electronic equipment. We'd made our way to the control room and Tony acted as if he owned it.

"Lissa, this is Captain Andrew Chapman," he introduced me to the tall, thin man who held out his hand so I shook it. "And this is Rear Admiral Dennis Hafer." Tony indicated the shorter, chubbier one clothed in white. Hafer felt obligated to shake and consequently, so did I.

"Show her where the boat is," Tony said so Captain Chapman led me to a table that held a large, electronic map.

"This is where we are, now," he pointed to a spot on the map. Unfortunately, the map didn't make any sense at all to me, looking to be a lot of numbered dots and wavy lines as it did. "This is where the pirates' craft is floating. They're holding the prisoner at gunpoint." He pointed to another spot, which wasn't far from the spot where he'd first put his finger.

"Okay," I said. "I know this makes sense to you, but you lost me on the first part. Why don't you point in the direction you want me to go and tell me how far it is in miles, feet or inches?" Silently I cursed myself for not paying more attention to the metric system over my lifetime as I watched a frown form on Captain Chapman's face.

"This is useless," Rear Admiral Dennis Hafer's voice was filled with contempt as he tossed up a hand and turned his back on us. The rear part of his title was correct; he was an ass, all right.

"Trust me," Tony said. Captain Chapman looked at him, then at me and sighed.

"They're about two miles away in that direction." He pointed toward the only window in the room. I could see the deck through it.

"I need all hands kept away from that portion of the deck out there," Tony said, hustling me away from the room.

The night air was cool around us, smelling of salt, fish and diesel exhaust from the ship's engines as Tony and I walked to the railing at the edge of the deck. The ship was huge and most of it blended in with the early evening mist forming about us. "I have this," Tony drew out a plastic bag that held a piece of cloth. "This is from one of the victim's shirts that haven't been washed." He pulled the bit of cloth from the bag and handed it to me. I sniffed it.

"Got it," I said, handing the cloth back and wondering if baying like a trailing bloodhound might be expected next.

"You don't need to take it with you?"

"I have a very good memory," I huffed. Scents stayed with me. Always. Tony scanned the deck around us, checking to see that no crew members were anywhere near.

"Go, Lissa. Bring this one back for me."

"Where do you want him delivered?" I asked.

"Control room," he nodded to the place we'd just left.

"All right. I'll do the best I can."

"Be careful, Lissy." He gave me a quick kiss. I turned to mist before he could take his lips from mine.

Misting over the ocean at a rapid rate of speed is a little disorienting. I realized quickly that I couldn't solidify again unless I wanted to be floating in seawater. There is no solid ground—nothing to hold onto or stand upon. I was also beginning to have my doubts about whether I could find the boat or not. I could be hunting a raindrop in the ocean; nobody told me how big the boat was or how many people were on it. Once again, I was flying blind. I misted low over the water as it rippled below me—a silent, massive behemoth that could stretch for fathoms beneath its constantly moving surface. I felt it was waiting to swallow me up if I made even the slightest mistake.

Five minutes it took. Five minutes before the scent of human bodies reached me. I zoned in on the smell right away and sped in that direction. The small boat I found was bobbing about in the water and there were ten men on board, most armed with rifles. One even had a rocket launcher. That's what it looked like, anyway, and the men appeared to be waiting for something or someone. A bigger ride, perhaps? Too bad—I got there first. Flying over the boat, I took stock of the situation. All the men aboard were armed except for one sitting in the middle. He didn't have a gun and was tied up and blindfolded instead. That looked like my target but I hovered around him just to make sure. It was the hostage, all right; he was the one whose scent I'd been given. His shirtless body was shivering and he might have been tortured—I could see dark marks on his chest and ribs. I could have grabbed him right then but thought about it for a second before coming up with an idea. My target sat in the center of the boat with three pirates around him who were watching closely. They were about to get a surprise from me. I misted down to the prisoner's feet. His captors weren't paying attention to those and it was dark anyway. Only one of my hands materialized in the dark. I touched my fingers to the bottom of the fiberglass boat and allowed my claws to slide out. When I turned my hand to mist again, there were four nice punctures in the boat and water was flooding in. Surrounding the prisoner, I turned him to mist instantly and got the hell out of there. I heard yells and screams coming from the boat as we flew away, along with a few gunshots, but they quickly faded as I put distance between us. My poor passenger was giving off vibes of pain and confusion as we traveled low over the water's surface. It's strange that I can know this about them while I carry them as mist.

Tony told me later that it took less than thirty minutes to do the rescue, start to finish. He was waiting for me and the man I'd rescued was nearly having a fit, even though he was gagged and trussed up when I dropped him on a chair inside the control room. I solidified quickly and helped Tony get the ropes off the prisoner. Tony was out the door after that, shouting for a corpsman.

The prisoner was going into shock; I could see that right away. He stared at me with wild eyes. "Don't worry," I placed compulsion. "Your friends got you out." He nodded and some of the shivering stopped. His blond hair was disheveled after extended exposure to the elements and his body definitely needed medical attention; he looked as if he'd been held for days, to be honest.

Four men rushed into the room; two carried cases filled with medical supplies. The other two were Captain Chapman and Rear Admiral Hafer, who stared in disbelief at the prisoner, at me and then at Tony. I might have more compulsion to lay if the growing light in the Rear Admiral's eyes meant anything.

"What about the pirates?" The Captain asked, eyeing the rescued man as the medics swarmed around him.

"I imagine they're bailing water and hoping for a rescue right now," I said, looking him in the eye. "There are nine of them and they smell terrible."

"Lissa, do you think you can find the way back to your room?" Tony asked distractedly, interrupting my conversation. He was busy with the prisoner and the corpsmen. Tony probably wanted to ask questions and I wasn't allowed to hear the prisoner's answers.

"Yeah. I can find my way," I snapped and stalked out of the control room.

* * *

"Would you care to tell me how the hell she did this?" Hafer hissed at Tony.

"I can't tell you, it's top secret," Tony growled a reply. "And no, you don't have clearance so don't ask. She's on loan to me for the moment, so don't go there, either."

"My friends got me out," the prisoner mumbled.

"That's right." A corpsman spoke soothingly while shining a light into the man's eyes; he appeared to have a concussion.

"How did they know to grab him?" Captain Chapman asked. "Nobody knew he was on that ship except the higher ups."

"Somebody let it slip or those pirates got lucky," Tony grumbled. "We're just fortunate that we had Lissa at the moment. Send some people out and see if they can pick up our pirates now. We'll see if Lissa's right."

The Captain leaned out the door and shouted, getting a response quickly. Two small, well-armed craft were sent out in no time to check on the status of the pirates.

* * *

Clouds were gathering overhead as I found my way to the room in which I'd wakened, and I smelled rain in the air. It hadn't arrived yet, but it wasn't far away. Shutting the metal door behind me, I turned and took stock of my poorly furnished room. The bunk was situated against the wall or protruding out of it. It was also the only place to sit so I sat in the corner facing the door. Tony hadn't brought any books for me to read, so I closed my eyes after a while and listened to the sounds around me, my nose soaking up scents as well. Thunder rumbled over the ship a while before Tony's footsteps sounded and his scent reached me long before he did.

"Sorry," he came in shaking himself a bit—a burst of rain had followed on the heels of the thunder. I was grateful the rain had held off during my rescue mission.

"How's the patient?" I asked, watching as Tony flipped water from his black hair.

"Better. They've got him in the infirmary," he said. "Don't ask who he is, Lissa. I can't tell you that."

"Wasn't going to," I muttered bitterly.

"Lissa, don't be like that," he came to sit beside me.

"Like what?" I asked, refusing to look at him.

"Upset because I can't tell you something." He reached out and ran a knuckle down my cheek.

"You're just another in a long line of that," I said, pushing his hand away. "I'm used to it by now. You may have problems with the ass Admiral, though. I saw the light in his eyes and I didn't like it."

Tony scooted back until he was against the wall, just as I was. "Lissa," he sighed, draping an arm around me, "we all walk around in the dark at times. I'm sorry." I just snorted at his words. Sometimes, I think the person doing the dirty work deserved to know what they were getting into. He leaned in and nuzzled my temple before placing a kiss there. I had to stop him before he got too far with that. Had to.

"Tony, stop," I tried to push him away.

"What would happen if this guy didn't exist," he took my hand and rubbed a thumb over my ring.

"Tony, I am what I am and you're human," I said, refusing to look at him. "How long do you expect that to last? You wouldn't get kids. No backyard barbecues on Saturday afternoons. No lunch dates. No waking up next to each other in the morning. None of that. We're the classic fish and bird, Tony. We might love each other but how can we ever live together? It's impossible. Go find somebody else."

"Like Winkler did? He's going crazy already and he's not even married to her yet." Tony shook his head in confusion.

"That's his fault. He wasn't thinking with the proper part of his anatomy on that one."

"Lissa, just stop for a minute, all right?" Tony put his arms around me and I felt his warm breath on my temple. "Close your eyes and let me hold you," he whispered. "Let me pretend just for a little while that I'm the big, strong male here and I can protect you, okay? That there isn't anybody else out there, right now. Nobody that needs anything or wants anything from you. You're safe, Lissa. For this one small moment, let me have that." My hand shook as I wiped the tears away. It was a nice dream, what he'd said to me. But still a dream, when all was said and done.

* * *

Winds whipped Tony's clothing as the helicopter settled onto the landing pad at the end of the ship. A seaman opened the door and took the small cooler from someone inside. The cooler was dutifully carried to Tony, who accepted it while the chopper rose into the air and flew away, heading back to land.

* * *

"Lissa, I've never done this before so you're going to have to help me, all right?" Tony's voice woke me the evening of April second. It was a Friday, if I remembered correctly.

"Hmmm?" My eyes blinked open and I looked up at him. He was sitting on the edge of my bed—or bunk, I should say, holding a unit of blood out to me. "Where did that come from?" I mumbled.

"I had it flown in," he grinned.

"Oh, that's not going to tell everybody what I am or anything," my sarcasm woke up almost before I did.

"They don't know what it is exactly," he was still grinning. "I just told them you had an unusual medical condition and we left your medication behind."

"What is wrong with you?" I sighed, snatching the unit of blood from his hand. "You may not want to watch this," I said, biting the top of the tubing off the bag.

"No, this fascinates me," he said, gesturing for me to drink. I did. I have to hand it to him, he didn't even go pale. "What happens if you get packed cells?" he asked.

"No idea," I said and continued drinking. He had a cooler plugged into a socket in the bathroom with five more units of blood inside when I put my third of a bag back for later. "They'll be coming for us tomorrow night," he said. "We'll take a helicopter to Kuwait and a military jet from there. I'll have to zip you up in your bag after we get halfway home; that's when daylight will hit us."

"Lovely," I told him. "How's the former prisoner?" I sorted through the duffle for something to wear.

"He's good. The ship physician says he's stable now, so the Navy will deliver him where he needs to go."

"Ooh, more secret stuff," I fluttered my fingers. "What about the pirates?"

"They were picked up after floating in the water for a while. Our boats stayed a little way off until they let their weapons sink in favor of saving their own skins. They're in the brig right now. If you could speak their language, you'd hear them talking about the ghost that visited them."

"Is that what I am?"

"To them. You scared the shit out of them, Lissa."

"Yeah. I'm plenty scary all right."

"How many are there that can do what you do?" Tony pulled me toward the bunk and convinced me to sit down beside him.

"I don't know that I should tell you that," I said.

"Agents White and Townsend say it's a really rare gift. And the mindspeech is just as rare."

"They're just full of helpful information, aren't they?"

"I've been waiting for you to communicate with me like that again. It shocked me when you did it in New Mexico."

I was desperate in New Mexico, I sent. Besides, you could send to me first, you know.

I didn't want to presume, Tony replied.

I thought that was your specialty—presuming, I returned. It certainly was with everyone else I knew.

Someone started banging on the metal door while we sat there. I'd heard them walk up but thought at first they'd just go on past. Tony got up to answer it.

"The Admiral has issued an invitation for both of you to join him for dinner," the young seaman said, saluting Tony. Tony stood there for a few seconds before turning to me. This could be a test of sorts.

"We can go if you want," I shrugged when Tony asked if I wanted to go.

"We'll come but Lissa doesn't have much in the way of clothing," Tony said. "Let the Admiral know." The seaman saluted again and took off.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"I can do it," I nodded. "I just won't be able to eat much."

I dressed in the best outfit Tony packed for me; black jeans, a cream knit top, black athletic shoes and my wig. At least my eyelashes and eyebrows were looking better now. Rear Admiral Hafer greeted us as we were led into a small dining room that held a round table, arrayed in the Navy's best. Two seamen were there, waiting to serve us.

You'll have to let me know what tastes good, I sent to Tony as I smiled and took the Admiral's hand. It all tastes like sawdust to me.

I will, he sent back, nodding pleasantly at the Admiral.

We were served rack of lamb with vegetables and some sort of sauce. Tony said it was good so I complimented the Admiral on the food. He still watched every bite I placed in my mouth. Crème Brulée was served for dessert. It looked wonderful and I was sorry I couldn't taste it. Tony liked it a lot and ate half of mine when I said I was too full to eat anything else.

"So, is growing hair quickly one of your many talents?" The Admiral decided to play twenty questions over an after dinner drink.

"This is a wig; I wish I could grow hair that quickly," I said, trying not to let my temper show. The question was rude and Tony frowned at the Admiral.

"What happened to your hair then?" He was digging, now.

"An unfortunate accident. I was burned," I said.

"She's had reconstructive surgery," Tony lied for me so the Admiral wouldn't ask about my perfect skin. "We're working on the hair." Admiral Hafer wanted to ask how I'd retrieved the prisoner so badly the question trembled on his lips, but Tony already informed him it was top secret and Hafer didn't have clearance.

"Have you performed any other feats of bravery?" The Admiral attempted a different tactic.

"None that I can discuss," I replied.

"I told you she was on loan and you don't have clearance. If you'll excuse us, Admiral," Tony got up from the table and I followed suit. He stalked out the door with me hot on his heels. I didn't think he liked the Admiral any better than I did and I certainly didn't trust the man. When the helicopter came to pick us up the following evening, I was more than happy to leave the ship and Admiral Hafer behind us.

Chapter 5

I'd been out of touch with everyone while Tony and I had been aboard the ship. He'd forgotten my cell phone along with the blood when he packed my clothes. Tony didn't pass up the opportunity to kiss me, however, before zipping me inside the body bag just as we were coming up on daylight. "Lissy, you'll be all right—I'll see to it," he promised. All the window covers on the plane were down, shutting out any light that might shine in and my eyes closed while Tony hovered above me.

* * *

The unfamiliar ceiling of Tony's guest room greeted me when I woke at nightfall, creating a bit of disorientation at first. I'd only slept four or five hours and my body was struggling to adapt. I felt sluggish and tired as I showered and dressed.

"Lissa baby, you don't look good," Tony set down the newspaper he'd been reading and pulled me against him.

"Going through too many time zones and not getting enough sleep," I yawned a little. Tony rubbed my back. Unconsciously, I allowed my head to droop onto his shoulder. He pulled me onto his lap in no time and when I stiffened, he attempted to get me to relax. Of course, Gavin called while we were like that. I climbed right out of Tony's lap and answered my cell.

"Lissa, where in the nine levels of hell have you been?" he shouted. With Gavin, nothing changes. At least he was shouting in English.

"Honey calm down. I was on a ship in the Arabian Sea and my phone was left behind in the states," I said as soothingly as I could. I was now pacing inside Tony's kitchen while Gavin shouted. He punctuated the rest of his diatribe with occasional words in French and Italian, shouting that I had no business anywhere near the Middle East and other similarly cheerful thoughts. I wanted to tell him that I'd not had a choice in the matter; I'd been shipped out while I was sleeping and couldn't have objected. He didn't bother to ask me and didn't take a long enough breath to let me get the words out regarding that fact. I had to settle for letting him release all his steam.

"Other than that, honey, how are you?" I asked when he wound down. Gavin was silent for several seconds.

"I am well," he grumbled. "See that you do not leave your phone behind again or borrow someone else's. I know there was some way you could have kept in touch, Lissa."

"Of course. You're right, honey. I'll make sure next time."

"See that you do." He hung up abruptly, so I ended the call with a heavy sigh.

"He should treat you better," Tony grumbled.

"We don't always get what we want," I said, slipping my phone into a pocket of my jeans. "Do you want dinner?"

"Lissa, I already snacked around; we have work to do tonight."

"All right. Where are we going?"

"We're taking a trip to Georgia. We'll be there for a few days so pack a bag, all right? I've already made arrangements to have blood delivered to our hotel. It's secure, we'll have guards around us and nobody will be asking questions."

"Great," I muttered and went to pack.

A driver picked us up and drove to the airport where a jet waited. Someone else was there to load our luggage. Tony's bag had already been packed when I woke for the evening; he'd just waited until we had our brief encounter to inform me we were going somewhere else. I recognized one of the two men who flew with us, other than the pilot and co-pilot. He was one of the human agents who'd been with Tony in Kansas City. At least he wasn't one of the two who'd worn sunglasses indoors and at night. He was the one, however, who'd pulled his jacket back to reveal the weapon he carried in a shoulder holster. Now he watched me suspiciously until I stared back at him. He turned his head when I did that. I sent mindspeech to Tony.

Was the goon necessary? I asked.

Tony sat quietly in a seat across the aisle from me, tapping away on a laptop. None of the rules applies to Tony; he was sending emails. He lifted his head but didn't turn in my direction.

Lissa, I normally travel with at least three. This is a compromise, he returned.

Fine, I sent back and was silent the remainder of the flight.

Goon was directing traffic as soon as we landed in Atlanta. He yelled at the limo driver who'd come to meet us. The poor driver was scared witless because he hadn't gotten close enough to the jet after we came to a stop. Who knew? I guess there's a manual somewhere, listing rules on precisely how close to park next to the plane. Tony didn't interfere; he just packed up his laptop and followed me off the jet. The driver helped load our bags into the trunk; goon had two, Tony and I had one each. Maybe the goon carried all his guns, Tasers and portable cannons in the second bag.

"What's his name or is that top secret?" I asked Tony as he slid into the back seat of the car with me. The goon, dissatisfied with the driver's packing skills, was rearranging our bags in the trunk while complaining to the driver.

"Bill Jennings," Tony said quietly. "He's strictly by the book, so don't joke or tease with him."

"Like I would," I snorted. "He looks like his mother fed him nails for breakfast."

"With little tiny marshmallows," Tony held a thumb and forefinger a half inch apart.

"Nah, no marshmallows," I shook my head. "Wood chips, maybe." Bill was finally satisfied with the luggage arrangement, climbed into the passenger seat and we were off. It had rained earlier in Atlanta and the highways were wet—we passed through mist and fog on the way to the hotel. At least the hotel downtown was a nice one; Tony and I had rooms next to each other with a closed connecting door. Bill the goon was staying in Tony's room. He should have moved over and let me do the protecting at night; I'd be awake anyway. I thought about Winkler but it was too late to call him so I pulled out my laptop, sent emails and spent the rest of the night reading. Just before dawn, Tony came in through the connecting door, forcing Bill the goon to stay behind in the other room. Tony made sure my door was secure and my curtains completely closed. He covered me up in the bed too, just as a precaution.

One thing about being a vampire is that you never toss and turn. There are no sleepless nights spent fretting and worrying over what your next waking will bring or whether your boss will yell at you. Day comes and you're out. Night falls and you're awake. Hell of a system. My locked cooler of blood was plugged in and waiting for me when I woke. I checked the connecting door, making sure it was locked on my side before drinking my dinner. Maybe blood tastes good to other vampires. For me it was something to keep the hunger away and not much else. It tasted better if I took from someone I cared for. So far, that had been Gavin and Tony, with Tony's being warmer and nicer. I didn't want to drink from him again unless I couldn't help it, though. Bagged blood was fairly tasteless and just fine, thanks.

Tony knocked on my door as soon as I was dressed so I opened up. Bill was standing at Tony's shoulder, wearing an impatient frown. Obediently I followed them out of Tony's suite. I wore a black t-shirt and jeans, black leather athletic shoes and a black sweater. I had no idea what we'd be doing so I came prepared. Tony smelled like steak and a baked potato, Agent Bill smelled of seafood linguine, so they'd eaten already.

"We're taking you to a house we've quarantined," Tony informed me as the driver from the evening before pulled up in front of our hotel. It was raining again and I was glad I'd worn the sweater. The house was in the suburb or Smyrna and was a small rental with only two bedrooms. It looked as if it had been abandoned in a hurry—trash and stray pieces of furniture lay scattered about. Dirty dishes were still in the sink, too. Tell me what you smell in mindspeech only, Tony instructed as he, Bill and I walked through the door. I sniffed quietly through the house and my eyebrows rose a little.

Tony, there were three humans and two vampires here, I sent to him while walking into the back bedroom. There were two twin beds inside and the windows were covered with dark blinds and curtains. I imagined they blocked light efficiently enough for vampires to sleep there.

Will you recognize any of them if you see or smell them again?

Tony, who do you think you're talking to, here? I almost snorted audibly.

I suppose that's a yes, he grudgingly admitted. What else can you tell me?

The vampires we killed in New Mexico? I asked.

Yes?

These are connected to those. They have the same taint.

Lissa, you frighten me.

You and a bunch of other guys, I responded.

We drove to an office building downtown after that. I kicked my heels while Tony and Bill met with someone inside an inner office. They'd left me far enough outside and the walls and doors were thick enough that I couldn't hear any of the conversation, although I tried. Not even a mumble came through, dammit. Tony came out with a box in his hand and motioned for me to follow him into another room across the hall. Bill didn't follow us inside; he stood in the waiting room, arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression plastered on his face as Tony shut the door behind us.

The room looked to be a place where job interviews might be done; it had putty colored walls, sturdy but nondescript furniture and a picture of the president hanging behind a faux-wood, utilitarian desk. "Lissa," Tony said, setting the box down on the desk and opening it, "tell me if this smells like any of the humans you scented earlier this evening." There was a shirt inside the box and it had blood on it. The scent reached my nose before Tony ever lifted the lid.

"Tony, this is somebody else and either they bled a lot or they're dead. That shirt has blood on it." I looked into his gray eyes, which were unreadable. He carefully replaced the lid and gestured for me to follow him from the room.

"Stay here," he nodded toward the chair I'd occupied earlier and he and Bill went back inside their sensory deprivation chamber.

Sit, Lissa. Stay, Lissa. Heel, Lissa. I was getting used to it by now. I picked up a weekly news magazine lying on a nearby table. On the front cover was a photograph of weeping parents and the inside story covered the continuing disappearances of schoolchildren in Britain and Wales. Now there were seven reported missing or dead. The first three bodies had been found—that's what Bryan told me in London, anyway. I didn't have time to read the entire article; Tony and Bill came out of their private office so I dutifully stood and followed along behind them.

"We have one more place to go tonight," Tony said while the driver steered us away from the underground parking garage. This building had been another with no signs, just like the one in Kansas City. One more place turned out to be a dorm room at Georgia A&M University, about sixty miles northeast of Atlanta. A campus security guard escorted us to the room in question. The other inhabitants of the dorm were asleep or otherwise engaged—I heard quite a bit of snoring, some computer tapping and a tiny bit of sexual activity. The targeted dorm room was located at the end of a lengthy, tiled hall. Keys rattled as the security guard unlocked the door for us.

Lissa, tell me what you smell, Tony sent when we stepped inside the room. The room was quite small and very empty, with naked mattresses piled onto two built-in beds. Someone had come to clean the room; disinfectant permeated the other scents.

Who cleaned? I asked.

Campus housekeeping services, Tony replied. Can you get anything?

One of the people inside the house was here, I sent. There's a faint scent of someone else that I didn't find at the other place.

Not the one who owned the shirt?

No. Just one from the house and the new one, I sent.

"Fuck," Tony said aloud.

Why don't you let me go up and down the hallway, just to see if I pick anything up? I suggested.

Fine. See what you can do. I'll hold these two off, Tony agreed. He and I held our silent conversation while Tony looked through the room, peering under mattresses and looking inside closets. There wasn't anything there for him to find.

"Is there a restroom nearby?" I asked the guard.

"Down the hall on the left," he jerked his head in that direction. I thanked him and walked out the door. Knowing it would be quicker if I turned to mist, I zoomed down the hallway, sniffing as I went until I came to the end on the right side and crossed over, coming back down the left. I was nearly to the room we'd been investigating when I caught the scent. I misted under the door, finding a young man with blond hair typing on his computer. I misted beneath the door again, noted his room number and turned to myself.

Room 318 is the other scent, I gave the information to Tony the moment I walked inside the dorm room. Tony pulled out his cell and made a call before giving the security guard brief instructions. Tony's backup arrived in less than half an hour. The security guard wore a confused look as Tony, Bill, and three new agents walked down to room 318 and knocked on the door. Tony pushed the security guard to the door when the young man answered.

"What do you want?" The boy's voice was sullen.

"We have a fire on the first floor. Nothing to worry about, we just need to evacuate the building for a little while," The guard lied. The young man stepped into the hallway and all three agents were on him immediately. He resisted a little, which resulted in two black eyes, various bruises, several bumps and multiple contusions. I hoped he was in on whatever it was and hadn't been just a casual friend. He was in for a long night, either way.

The young man's computer equipment was confiscated and he was hauled out in handcuffs while several students opened doors to see what was going on. The guard ordered all of them to return to their rooms as we escorted the young man out of the building.

Dawn was coming in less than two hours and we had an hour drive back to Atlanta. Tony ordered Bill to ride with us, although he was itching to go with the one they'd just arrested. Bill told the security guard he'd be in touch and we left—Tony didn't say a word during the entire trip to the hotel.

"Lissa, I have guards posted outside and they know not to come in," Tony informed me as I climbed into bed just before dawn. "Bill and I need to do some interviewing."

I had a feeling the interviewing might involve intense questioning at the very least. Amazing, isn't it, what people will stoop to if you back them into a corner? Nodding instead of arguing, I allowed Tony to cover me up in bed. I was out the minute dawn hit the horizon.

* * *

"Father, we have not been able to track Sebastian," Radomir kept the worry from his voice as he stood before Wlodek's desk. He and Russell had just completed another fruitless search for the Council's missing Assassin. Sebastian had abandoned all three of his residences and none of the vampires he'd associated with in the past had seen or heard anything. It was as if Sebastian had systematically erased all evidence of his existence. Russell stood at Radomir's side, concerned that Wlodek might become furious. Wlodek hadn't maintained his position as Head of the Vampire Council by being a benign leader. Wlodek cursed, first in Greek and then in Latin, followed by a few other languages. "Charles!" he shouted after the cursing fit was over.

"Yes, Honored One?" Charles was at the door to Wlodek's study in a blink.

"Pull Gavin off his assignment. He's the only one that might be able to track Sebastian. Russell, you will take Gavin's place in Barcelona."

"Of course, Honored One," Russell gave a slight nod. He'd never acted as an Assassin before. This would be a first.

"Charles will give you the information," Wlodek waved Russell away. Russell was quite relieved to get away from the tension-filled room, although he kept the mask in place and didn't show it. Charles went with him, handing a folder of information over. Russell was on his cell phone immediately, calling for the Council's jet.

* * *

Saturday, April tenth heralded a cool and cloudy evening when I awoke, and I'd had dinner and a shower by the time Tony knocked on my hotel room door. He didn't offer any information and I didn't ask when he said, "Lissa, pack up, baby. We need to be at the airport in an hour." Biting my lip to keep some retort from escaping, I gathered my clothes and toiletries, packing them into my bag as best I could in the least amount of time. We'd spent nearly a week in the Atlanta area but had come up empty as far as tracking the vampires and the humans from the house we'd visited the first night. Tony already had his bag ready so I followed him, Bill and two other agents as we made our way through the carpeted, tastefully bland hallway of the hotel.

"We're flying straight to L.A. I can have your clothes laundered or we can buy something else while we're there," Tony told me as we buckled ourselves into seats on the jet about forty-five minutes later. "What do you want to do about clothing, Lissa?" Tony asked when I ignored him. Again, I was left in the dark and there wasn't any way that Tony was going to tell me anything. I still didn't have a clue why we'd searched the house, the dorm room and several other locations in the Atlanta area, and wasn't likely to ever learn those things. Obviously, the whole thing made me a bit grumpy and depressed. And why hadn't he asked me to pack more than one bag to begin with, for cripe's sake? I had plenty of clothes at his house in Virginia, and they did me no good at all if I was in one place and they were in another. Resigning myself to buying clothing from a discount retailer that stayed open late, I settled into my seat on the jet and considered not answering Tony's question. "Well?" Tony wasn't going to let me ignore him for long.

"It doesn't matter," I sighed and settled back in my seat across the aisle. Tony wasn't about to apologize to me in front of the others. I was a subordinate to him just as they were. He pulled out his laptop first thing once we got off the ground, preparing to write his inevitable emails.

One of Tony's two extra agents aboard the flight had a copy of the New York Times and he offered it to me after reading it. I thanked him, grateful for something to read. There was an article on the second page about the child disappearances in Great Britain. Nine had now been taken. Another two had been found just as the first three were, floating in water with their throats slashed. My skin itched. I wanted to make a phone call so badly I could barely stand it but it would have to wait.

Flying to the west coast meant another extended night for me as we loaded everything into a waiting SUV. The extra space was needed for the other two agents, both of whom were human (although not nearly as stiff as Bill). I learned their names were Gene Pogue and Dustin Howell. Dustin asked to be called Dusty, surprising me a little. I was getting used to being treated with contempt or as an inferior, sometimes both. The informality of the nickname was like a breath of fresh air.

Tony was on the phone during the ride to the hotel, but I didn't pay much attention to his conversation. I wondered in a distracted sort of way if he knew I could hear the person on the other end clearly and it didn't take a genius to know it was the Vice President. What had caught my attention in the newspaper I'd read, other than the children missing or dead in Great Britain, was that the Secretary of State would be in Los Angeles in three days for a conference and speech of some sort. I had a feeling that was why we were there.

Our hotel was in Beverly Hills and perhaps the nicest place I'd ever stayed. Hollywood stars stayed there, or so I'd heard. I didn't see any when we arrived but it was three in the morning. "Lissa, do you need money?" Tony asked when we got to our connecting rooms. Bill's room was across the hall this time and I was thankful for the added privacy. I'd had a talk with myself during the trip, reminding myself that Tony had an important job and couldn't hand off information to just anybody, even if we had shared a few lip-locks. At least I was in a better mood when we landed at LAX.

"No, I have some," I said. Merrill had given my envelope of cash to me, but I'd handed all except five thousand back to him before I left. I also had my credit card again. I didn't need anything else. "Why?"

"I've asked agent Howell to take you shopping," Tony said.

"Tony, the only thing that will be open is Walmart," I pointed out with a sigh.

"Get some jeans at least," Tony said. "Will you pick up a few things for me as well?" He handed a list over. His sizes were on it; he was asking for jeans for himself, along with shirts, socks and underwear. A few toiletries were also on the list.

"I'll do what I can," I nodded. "Dusty isn't going to fall asleep is he?"

"Not likely. He's going to be a day sleeper, just as you are. I'm assigning you two to be night guards."

"Good idea," I told him. "Where's Dusty, now?"

"The room next to yours." Tony was already heading toward his computer case to pull out the laptop. He was in work mode so I didn't ask any more questions.

Agent Howell answered my knock almost immediately. He was prepared and had keys in hand when he came to the door. "Ready to go?" he asked, grinning a little.

"Yeah. Let's boogie," I said and followed him to the elevator.

"Tony says you're on loan to us," Dusty said as he drove out of the hotel parking lot.

"Yeah. And I can't tell you from where," I said.

"He said that, too. That doesn't keep me from being curious," he said.

"You'll have to get used to curiosity, or get rid of it altogether," I muttered. "Lord knows I've had to." Dusty chuckled and nodded.

Dusty used the on-board GPS system to find the nearest Walmart. If not for their penchant for staying open all night, I might not have a wardrobe at times. We ended up at a store located in Culver City. Time was short so I rushed through the store. Dusty had to run to keep up with me and we barely made it back to the hotel before dawn arrived.

"I'll have everything cleaned," Dusty promised, taking the bags of clothing from me. I'd carried my share up to our floor. I thanked him and nearly slammed my door in his face since I was about to keel over. I did fall face-first onto the bed and didn't move again until nightfall.

* * *

"Lissa, you really don't have any control over this, do you?" Tony turned me over so I'd be face-up that evening. I blinked a few times to bring his features into focus. He was dressed very nicely in a tux and set about picking up the bags of toiletries I'd dropped in the floor on my way to the bed. Shampoo and other things had rolled across the carpet; the rest was scattered near the dropped bags.

"No, I don't have any control over it," I mumbled. "Some of the older guys can stay up a little later as long as they're out of the sun. They wake a little earlier, too. But not me. Sorry." I had a hand over my eyes; the bedside lamp Tony flipped on made my eyes water.

"Come on, lazy bones, get out of bed," Tony sorted out his toiletries, setting them on the bedside table. He then grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed.

"I don't think lazy has anything to do with it," I snipped, wanting to smack him a little.

"Come on, I have your clean clothes here," he pointed to a pile of clothing, all wrapped in dry cleaner bags. "Get in the shower. Do you need help?" He had a hand at the small of my back. I stopped and turned to look at him.

"No." My eyes focused on his chin as I moved away from him and shut the bathroom door firmly in his face. I even locked it. That wouldn't keep him or any determined five-year-old out but it was the gesture that counted. He wasn't telling me anything, just like everybody else. He could keep his secrets. He could kiss my foot. No way could he kiss my ass—that was privileged territory.

"Here." Tony handed a badge over when I walked out of the bathroom, clean, dressed and ready to go. The laminated badge had a metal spring clip attached to it so I could clip it to my blouse. The badge had my photograph, along with the title Special Agent Huston on it. Well, la-de-da. And where the hell did he get my picture? I didn't even ask where we were going. I was a little pissed and I think he knew it. I clipped the badge to the gray, short-sleeved blouse I'd brought with me; I'd coupled one of my better blouses with a pair of new black jeans and my black athletic shoes. My shortest wig was slapped on my head; I had no idea what I'd be doing so this outfit would have to work. If Tony didn't like it, he could at least tell me how to dress.

"You look fine," he said as I adjusted my shirt a little on the way to the elevator. "Don't fidget. I need you for guard duty tonight and if you see, hear or smell anything, let me know immediately," he added, tapping his forehead. I nodded, stepping into the elevator with him. We rode to the first floor and I followed Tony across a wide expanse of marble tile until we met up with Bill, who waited impatiently for us.

"The back entrance is this way," Bill said, taking the lead. Tony walked between the two of us while Bill handed a small earpiece off to him. I watched as Tony placed it in his left ear and the crackle came through clearly, as somebody spoke.

Be careful, I can hear every word, I sent to Tony. It was time he knew.

I'm counting on it, he sent back. Well, well, well.

There were six cars lined up at the back of the hotel, waiting. FBI and state agents were everywhere, with Tony's men scattered throughout. Bill and I were protecting Tony; everybody else was there for Madam Secretary. We ended up in the car next to last, driving toward the Chinese Embassy for a private dinner. I heard over Tony's earpiece that the Chinese Ambassador and several important Chinese entrepreneurs were attending. They were planning to discuss making China a greener nation; at least that's what their business goals were.

Protesters were lined up outside the embassy when we arrived, waving signs and shouting accusations at some of the arriving guests. Ecological groups were accusing Chinese companies of not working hard enough to bring China in line with other countries on greenhouse gas legislation. Some were complaining about the economy, of course. That was always an issue, in addition to the usual human rights protesters. Local police were everywhere and had the crowd backed up behind wooden barricades so the cars could get through. I saw plenty of signs and heard even more shouting as we drove past and wondered how often Tony had to deal with this sort of thing.

Bill and I were stationed in an alcove inside the Embassy, just outside the dining room. Madame Secretary seemed to know Tony—they engaged in brief conversation before both were greeted by their host and led inside the formal dining area. FBI agents surrounded and followed. Bill and I were the first line of defense, I suppose, if anyone tried to get inside.

I did my best to stand still and not wiggle nervously, while Bill stood as if he'd had concrete poured around his ankles. Maybe he'd been taught to do that; I hadn't. After the first hour, I fidgeted a little more and then my skin began to itch.

"Mr. Jennings, I need to find the ladies' room," I said rather urgently. Bill started to object but I was already trotting down the hall before he could call me back. Finding a place to mist was a problem; it took several seconds to locate an empty restroom stall, but it was worth it in the end. Our plotters and schemers from the house in Georgia had sent in one of their vampires.

Chapter 6

Tony said to keep him informed. I had no idea what he was going to do with this information. The vampire I followed was a mister, his purplish gray mist flying ahead of me in a rush toward the dining hall. Henri and Gervais were a greenish gold when they turned, so the Council didn't know about this one. Merrill said the only other known misters were the brothers, who were also Council Enforcers. This definitely could turn into a problem—I was about to see how I stacked up against another vampire who could turn to mist.

Tony, I'm tracking a mister, I sent as I followed the invisible vampire down a lengthy hall. He misted right through a crack between two heavily guarded double doors, flying straight into the dining room with me hot on his undetectable heels. I could see Tony talking into a band on his wrist and every FBI agent inside the room immediately went on alert. I have no idea what they thought they were going to do against a vampire; all of them were human.

My biggest advantage was that the vampire not only didn't realize he was being followed but that it would take him a few minutes to regain corporeality.

Where are you now? Tony sent back.

Inside the dining room in a dark corner. It'll take the mister a few minutes to turn back to himself.

What can we do?

Nothing. He'll probably try compulsion if he gets a chance. I'm going to take him out of here instead.

Like you rescued the man from the pirates? Tony asked.

Yes. That's all I know to do without causing chaos and getting anybody hurt in here. My problem was what to do with the vampire after I dropped him somewhere and came back to myself so I could fight him.

You're going to fight him, aren't you?

Tony, that's the only thing I can do unless you want him to get away.

I knew I should have gotten White and Townsend out here. Tony was upset.

Tony, there's no guarantee they'd have any better success. He's turning. Gotta go. I cut off the mindspeech. The vampire was indeed turning and as soon as he solidified enough that I could grab him, I did so, shocking the hell out of him. Fear and anger were pouring out of him as I fled the room, carrying him through the same crack we'd used to get inside. We zipped through the entryway, out a narrow gap between tall, heavily carved wood doors and into an April night.

Our flight seemed to take forever as I desperately searched for a place to drop the vampire that was secluded—this showdown definitely wasn't for public viewing. I hoped to heaven that I'd be able to fight him once we both became solid. I felt the taint on him too; he was unquestionably one of Saxom's get. A huge storm drain channel where runoff from rains would travel through the city and empty into the ocean loomed ahead of me. I dumped my guest in the center of that deserted concrete canyon. He was cursing and hissing, his fangs and claws out, as I appeared twenty feet away.

"Well, look what we have here," his eyes were so deep a red they were nearly black and he smiled, fangs and all, as he got a good whiff of me. "Stand still little girl so I can get my claws into you. We'll have a bit of fun before I kill you." Compulsion dripped from his voice. It wasn't the thunder and lightning that Merrill could do, but it would eclipse Wlodek. This one was older, even, than the last one I'd seen at the Council meeting.

"I won't be having any fun with you," I snarled back. His compulsion had absolutely no effect. His eyes widened a fraction but that was the only indication given that I'd surprised him. My own claws slid out as I prepared for his attack. I avoided his first assault, which occurred in a rush of wind and blazing fury. He growled as he came to ground, facing me still. Not only could he fly as Merrill and Wlodek did, but he could do so as swiftly as any vampire could run. That was frightening. Now, my problem seemed to be getting close enough to decapitate him. That was my only chance of taking him down.

Flexing his claws a little, he hissed and charged me again. I slashed out at him as I whipped out of his way once more. "Nice," he growled, wiping a bit of blood off his face. My claws had barely nicked a cheek. "Little girl, I don't intend to let you live. Give up now and I'll make your death swift."

"That's an offer I'll have to refuse," I said and misted right next to him. He roared, turning in a swift circle to look for me when I appeared at his side. Moving faster than I could see, he punched my jaw, breaking it. With dismay, I heard bone snap as I swiped at him. He clawed my side even as I removed his head.

The body dropped like a sack of grain and began to flake away immediately. The pain in my jaw caused me to drop to my knees and I knew the gashes in my side were deep. When I drew my hand away from the sliced skin, it was covered in blood. There wasn't any help for it; I had to let Tony know. I didn't know if I could stay conscious long enough to get back to the embassy and I certainly couldn't go in looking like this.

Tony, I need help, I sent. I think I whimpered with the effort it took to send the mindspeech.

What do you need, baby? Tony sounded scared.

I need somebody to come get me. I got hit a little, I returned.

Where are you?

I don't know. In the middle of a big concrete drainage ditch somewhere. He wasn't going to be able to find me and I nearly panicked.

Do you have your cell phone with you?

Yes. It was in my pocket. I had no idea why he wanted to know that.

We'll be there, baby, just hold on, all right?

All right. I sat down on the concrete, then, hunching over in pain while the mister flaked away right beside me.

It took Tony and some of his men twenty minutes to get to me and Tony was running down the sloped side of the steep drainage ditch with three agents right behind him when they found me. "Lissa, what's wrong?" Tony knelt down next to me, ignoring the clothing and pile of ash that lay on the concrete nearby.

He broke my jaw and did this; I lifted the hand that covered part of my deep claw marks.

Tony swore as he examined my gashes. Is that him? He nodded toward the pile of ash and clothing.

Yes. Tony I can't go to the hospital but I need somebody to set my jaw. The rest will clear up with the sleep. I need blood, too.

"We'll take care of this," Tony assured me, motioning for one of the agents to help get me up. "Call one of our doctors and have him meet us at the hotel," Tony ordered. Another agent pulled out a cell and made a call. I was in too much pain to listen to the conversation.

"I can carry her," the agent who'd helped pull me to my feet offered, so Tony nodded and allowed it.

"Be careful, her jaw's broken, too," Tony said. The agent lifted me up—I moaned a little at the movement. It caused blinding pain in both my jaw and my side. Tony asked one of the agents to pick up the vampire's clothing and the ash that clung to it. I wondered what he planned to do with it but didn't ask. Somehow, we climbed up the steep side of the drainage channel and they placed me inside a waiting SUV.

The man waiting for us inside Tony's hotel room wasn't dressed like a doctor, but what did I know? "Just get the jaw aligned and clean out the gashes," Tony instructed as the agent settled me on Tony's bed.

Towels, Tony, I hugged myself, hoping not to get blood on his bed. We'd come into the hotel by the back way and hotel security had stood aside and watched us pass.

Tony convinced the agent to leave us alone while the doctor examined my jaw first. Getting it back in place was a bitch—I might have screamed, I think, if I could have.

"There," the doctor said when it was over. "Don't talk," he held up a hand. I nodded, tears in my eyes. "Now, what do we have here?" He lifted my shredded shirt and looked at the deep rips in my skin. "Get that shirt off," he said. "Are you sure she doesn't need a tetanus shot?" He gave Tony a curious glance.

"No shots, no drugs," Tony said. "You can use peroxide to clean it out, that's it."

"Fine," the doctor grumbled. I shrugged out of my shirt with Tony's help. I sat on the edge of Tony's bed as the doctor cleaned my side with the recommended peroxide, bandaged it with gauze and tape and then stepped outside the room to talk with Tony. I was afraid to move my jaw; it needed to stay in place so it would heal properly. Very carefully, I lay down on the bed—on the good side of my face—and closed my eyes.

"Here, baby," Tony held a partial bag of blood in front of my nose after a while. Clenching my jaw and hoping not to jar it any, I sipped slowly at the blood. Tony took the bag away when it was empty, asking if I wanted any more.

No, I sent and closed my eyes.

* * *

"This all began when we took Lissa to Vilmos' cottage. He refused to respond to our demand that he give up his human companion when the Council rejected his request," Wlodek informed Gavin, who sat on the other side of his desk. "Sebastian was already gone; he'd called to let Charles know the assassination had been carried out and we arrived perhaps two hours later. Lissa went through the house, swore that a baby had been there and that Sebastian had done something with it. Merrill and I found no evidence and the only thing Lissa could produce to support her claim was a pacifier."

Gavin was surprised that Wlodek knew what a pacifier was but held his tongue. "Lissa's sense of smell is more sensitive than mine," he said instead. "Are you sure she wasn't right?"

"I no longer know for certain," Wlodek sighed. "Sebastian has disappeared and now human children are turning up missing or dead. Find Sebastian, Gavin. If I learn that he took a baby from Vilmos' human companion and is responsible for taking these other children, well, we will deal with that situation as it arises. If you locate him and he refuses to cooperate, then kill him."

Gavin nodded. It would be extremely difficult to take down another Assassin; they were the elite of the Council's fighters. Sebastian had no love for Gavin, just as Gavin had no respect for Sebastian. Sebastian often toyed with his kills before taking them down; the kills were never clean and swift.

"I will do what I can, Honored One," Gavin nodded and stood.

"If you need Henri or Gervais, let me know."

Gavin gazed at Wlodek. Even with the brothers' improved turning time, they might still be too slow. What he needed was Lissa, but she was far away and he was reluctant to involve her in something like this. "I'll keep you informed," Gavin nodded again and turned to leave.

* * *

My jaw and side still ached a little when I woke Monday night—it was April twelfth—and I moaned as I rolled over, discovering I'd slept in Tony's bed.

"About time, sleepyhead," Tony said, sitting on the side of the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit, what do you think?" I mumbled, slapping a hand over my eyes.

"You managed to lose your wig somewhere. When we found you last night, you were wigless," Tony rubbed my nearly bald head and grinned down at me. I lay flat on my back on his bed, staring up at him, my mouth set in a petulant frown.

"Your bedside manner definitely needs improvement," I snipped. "Are you always this cheerful when you wake someone up?"

"Always. When I wake I'm as grumpy as a bear so it's only fair that I get to deal out misery to someone else," he chuckled.

"At least you get coffee to remedy the situation," I said, slapping a hand over my eyes again. He looked fine—quite good in fact—in a dark gray suit and white shirt with a gray and burgundy striped tie. "I have to get cleaned up and dressed," I attempted to sit up in bed.

"You can clean up and eat but you're not going anywhere else. You get tonight off," he said. "And I sent Dustin out to replace the blouse that got shredded. He couldn't choose so you now have six more shirts."

"You sent a man out after clothes?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Unbelievable," I sighed and rolled over so I could use an elbow to push myself upright. Tony must have pulled my jeans off sometime; I was dressed only in a bra and panties as I wobbled toward the connecting door.

"Use mine," Tony steered me toward his bathroom. "I moved your soap and shampoo over. This way, if you drop in the shower, I'll be more likely to hear it and come running. Then you have to report on what happened last night."

"Unbelievable," I repeated as I walked into his bathroom, closing the door in his face.

* * *

"So, he was a mister, too?" Tony practiced his new vocabulary words later.

"Yes. I could see him while he was mist but he couldn't see me. That's how I surprised him," I said. "Tony, no way can you ever tell anyone else that I can see other misters while I'm mist. Even the Head of the Council doesn't know and there's no telling what he'd do if he found out I withheld information."

"Lissa, these people sound vindictive," Tony looked at me, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

"Hmmph," I grumbled. He had no idea. None at all. He asked me questions as I explained what I'd done and how I'd gotten hit, getting close enough to deal a death blow.

"Now," I said. "You told me once you were raised by wolves. Care to explain that to me?"

"My mother is a werewolf, my father isn't," he shrugged. "My parents divorced and mom married my stepfather who is also a werewolf. I have a werewolf half-brother."

"Are your parents still alive?"

"Yeah. My stepdad is Second in the Denver Pack. My half-brother works in the Denver area. He's a police lieutenant."

"Being a werewolf probably helps out quite a bit with that profession," I said.

"It does, he just has to be careful and make sure there are other ways to explain how he knows whodunit," Tony grinned.

"How does he feel about having a human brother?"

"He's good with it, especially since I outrank him, so to speak."

"How about that?" I grumbled.

"Want to take a walk? I haven't had dinner yet."

"I think I can make it to one of the restaurants downstairs without fainting," I muttered sarcastically. "Tony, I'm a little worried, though. What do you think our dead vampire's buddies are going to do when he doesn't come home?"

"I don't know. I have people doing intelligence now, but nobody can say for sure at the moment. Come on, I want a steak."

"You know, I think you got more wolf in you than you know," I said and followed him out the door.

Somehow, we picked Bill up on our way downstairs. He stepped out of his room, chased after us and rode the same elevator downstairs, asking if he could join us for dinner. So much for being able to talk to Tony over a meal. And since my wig from the evening before was missing, I had one of the longer ones on my head this time. Bill didn't say a word about my changing hairstyle. I'll give him this; at least he knows discretion.

"I received a call from Naval Intelligence this afternoon, asking if they could borrow the female agent," Tony smiled, cutting up his rare steak. He really had been influenced by a family of werewolves.

"You'd better tell them no," I snapped before thinking. Wlodek and Gavin would never agree to that. No way.

"Young woman, you could be written up or fired for insubordination," Bill admonished. He's by the book, all right.

"Feel free," I said. I had my cup of hot tea in front of me; I didn't even pretend to eat.

"Lissa," Tony said quietly. I shut up.

"What was all the fuss about last night?" Bill was in a mood to talk.

"Can't say," Tony replied. Bill was probably wondering why I never came back from the bathroom. At least I wasn't the only one left in the dark at times.

"The next time you go off to handle a situation without your partner, I expect to be informed," Bill grumbled, handing me a dark look.

Tony looked from me to Bill. "Lissa, see if he can hear you." He cut another piece of steak and stuffed it in his mouth. Tony was a swift and vigorous eater.

"What?" I didn't understand, at first.

"Go ahead—see if he can hear your mindspeech."

"Are you kidding me?" I couldn't believe he was asking this. Tony was outing me to a rigid, semi-insufferable goon. Bill was now staring at me in shock.

"Go ahead. Include me, too," Tony instructed, stuffing another chunk of steak in his mouth.

Bill was now staring at Tony, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Tony, I'll get you for this, I sent to both of them. Agent Bill Jennings was on his feet in a flash, nearly knocking the chair over in his rush.

"He heard you," Tony smiled, cut another chunk off his steak and chewed. "Sit down, Jennings. See if you can send your thoughts back to Lissa."

Bill tried. I'll give him credit for that, he just couldn't do it. "Don't worry about it," Tony told him. "It would be great if you could but I didn't think it was going to happen. I think Lissa may be able to send to just about anyone if she concentrates on them well enough." Tony was extremely happy with his little experiment. "Jennings, I hope you know not to let this get out," Tony cautioned. "Now you know why she's so valuable and can get away with a bit of insubordination now and then. She's on loan to us so don't fuck this up. We might need to borrow her again."

"I can see that," Bill was nearly breathless at the information he'd received. Tony and Bill finished their meal; I was grateful when it was over and we rode the elevator upstairs. Bill glanced speculatively in my direction several times, thinking, I'm sure, just how my talent might be exploited. He also wondered where I'd come from, since he'd never been informed of anyone like me. Plus, I had no idea how Wlodek would react if he knew Tony had given out a piece of my information. Naval Intelligence was already knocking on the door; they'd gotten a little taste, too. I doubted if Madam Secretary even knew how close she'd come to being jumped by a vampire. I guess some things are just better left unsaid.

* * *

"Merrill, I'm positive it was one of Saxom's turns," I insisted. I'd called him when Tony and I had gotten back to our rooms. I shut the connecting door, too, since I wanted to make my calls in private.

"He had the taint? You're sure of this?"

"I'm sure. Merrill, Tony took me to a house while we were in Atlanta and I scented three humans and two vampires there. Both vampires had that smell about them."

"How old was this one? Could you tell that?"

"Yes. He was older than the one the Council sentenced."

Merrill blew out a frustrated sigh. "Lissa, this is frightening. If there were some way I could pull you back from all this I would, but we made a promise. Please let me know if you find something like this again and I'll inform Wlodek about this one."

"All right." I wanted to do a little sighing myself but held back. We said our goodbyes so I dialed the next number on my list.

"Lissa, are you well?" Weldon was on the phone.

"Yeah. How about you?"

"I'm good; I'm a proud Grampa, now."

"Hey! Congratulations," I said.

"Two weeks ago. Daryl Harper Junior," he said. I could picture him, standing there about to pop the buttons off his plaid flannel shirt, he was so proud.

"That's great. Is Kathy Jo doing all right?"

"She's fine. That baby can't even snuffle without one of his parents being right there," Weldon said, a grin coming through in his voice.

"And I'm sure Grampa is right behind them," I teased.

"Maybe," he admitted.

"Weldon, I need a favor if it's possible," I said.

"Little girl, all you have to do is name it and if I can arrange it, it's yours," he replied.

"Wait and see what it is before you say yes," I said. "Have you heard about those kids that are coming up missing in Wales and Great Britain?"

"That's been on the news several times," he said. "What about it?"

"Weldon, I need somebody with a good nose to go to the next crime scene, and I'm thinking there will be a next one, just to see if there's any vampire scent. Better yet, if they find more dead bodies, see if there's vampire scent around those."

"Baby, don't you think you ought to go to the Head of the Council with this?"

"Weldon, do you think they'd listen to me?" I said. I'd already told the Head of the Council what I thought and he hadn't listened.

"All right, I have someone that can arrange to send a wolf out to check things over. I'll have the information passed on to you if they find anything. How's that?"

"That will be fantastic," I said. "Thank you, Weldon. I'll be forever grateful."

"Little girl, you don't owe me a thing."

"Kiss that baby for me, okay?" I said. Weldon was laughing as we hung up.

My next call was the one I dreaded to make because I didn't know what mood he'd be in and also didn't know if Merrill had managed to pass on information yet. I dialed Gavin's number.

"Lissa?"

"Hi, honey."

"Cara, how are you?"

"I'm fine now. I got into a little bit of a scrape last night but everything is good now," I repeated.

"What kind of scrape?"

How I wished I could confide in him without setting him off or making him curse. That was impossible, so I just forged ahead with my news. "Gavin, I was at the Chinese Embassy last night and a mister came in—somebody that the Council doesn't know about. He had the same taint as the one that the Council took care of last time."

"Lissa, what did you do?" Gavin growled.

"I killed him, Gavin. He's dead now. I sneaked up on him and managed to do it."

"And you were harmed." I could hear the anger in his voice.

"It's all fine now," I said. I'll give him this, he didn't curse as long or as loud as he normally does but he did curse. I felt like crying at the end of all of it. Why couldn't he be sympathetic? Just once, when I needed him to be? I wiped a tear off my cheek. "I love you, too, honey," I said, my voice getting thick. I hung up before I started sobbing.

* * *

"Wlodek, this is sounding more and more like a carefully laid plot," Merrill said over the phone. It was nearly dawn and they didn't have long to talk. "Lissa swears that this mister had the same taint. She knew about the last one. If this is true, there's no way to tell how many of them are out there."

Wlodek was tapping the gold pen against the blotter on his desk. The problem hadn't gone away when Saxom was eliminated, and now his turns seemed bent on causing chaos and destruction. Wlodek and the Council were at a loss, however, to discover just what Xenides and Saxom's other whelps truly planned. Wlodek had eyes and ears in many places, but Saxom's turns remained cleverly hidden. This was becoming worse by the minute. Two Assassins and twelve Enforcers were not enough to send out against an enemy that might number in the hundreds at the very least. Who knew how long Saxom had been making turns? "We must to be quite vigilant from this point forward," Wlodek said. "Quite vigilant indeed."

* * *

"Hi, Frank, I hope I didn't wake you." It was nearly five in the morning on the west coast and I was going to hit the bed shortly. I'd thought about sending Franklin email but I wanted to talk to him instead. At least it was three hours later on the east coast.

"Lissa, I was already up making breakfast. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, honey. I just wanted to check in with you and see how you were." Franklin paused for a moment and I didn't like that hesitation. "Franklin, tell me what's wrong." There wasn't any way I could place compulsion over the phone and I wouldn't do that to Franklin anyway. Franklin was my friend and I loved him.

"Greg went in for some tests yesterday," Franklin sounded upset, suddenly. "The doctor didn't say anything but I'm worried."

"Oh, honey," I said. "What can I do to make this easier for you while you wait?"

"Lissa, I'm not sure there's anything anybody can do except pray, I think. One of the tests was a biopsy and this was after blood work was done a couple days before. We're keeping our fingers crossed."

"Then I'll do the same. Frank, you know I love you, and Greg, too. Tell him that and I'll be thinking about both of you."

"Send him email and pretend you don't know, all right?" Franklin sniffled slightly, although he'd covered the mouthpiece with his hand.

"I will, honey. I miss you both." We hung up shortly after; I think Franklin was about to have a meltdown and I wasn't there to help.

"Lissy?" Tony gave an obligatory half-knock before barging into my bedroom. He was getting up; I was about to go to bed. My pajamas were on and my teeth brushed. I'd just waited until the last minute to make my call to Franklin. I was glad that worries never followed me into my sleep and that I didn't dream. I think I'd be well established in the nightmare realm, otherwise.

"Tony?" I was handing him a one-word question back.

"I need you up and about as soon as possible tonight, we have work," he informed me. "I'll also have a uniform for you."

"Tell me it doesn't include sunglasses," I joked.

"It might if you want them."

Great. What did he have planned? Of course he wasn't elaborating. Of course.

"I'll get up and around as fast as I can," I grumbled.

"Come on, baby, the sun's about to come up, get in bed," he was herding me. Tony wore pants only; they looked like the pants to a suit and he wore them well. Nothing wrong with Tony, other than a couple of scars. Nothing at all.

Bill let himself into my bedroom that evening while I was racing around trying to finish dressing. The uniform consisted of the standard dark suit and white shirt I'd seen Bill and the other agents wear, and there were two extras lying across the foot of the bed when I woke. Wonderful. I was thankful that Bill hadn't barged in while I'd been drinking my dinner.

The suits fit. I gave Bill my best glare for not knocking first and then went into the bathroom to slap a wig on my head. At least my fuzz was looking longer and thicker now and my eyebrows and lashes were almost back to normal. Grabbing a suit jacket and clipping my name tag on, I gestured for Bill to lead the way.

Madam Secretary was scheduled to deliver a speech that evening at a venue downtown. If I understood some of the chatter in Bill's earpiece, the same location had been used for the Academy Awards a few times. Most of the security team was already in place. I was the latecomer and Bill, since he'd had to wait on me, didn't like that one bit. He was always punctual, I could tell. Well, if Tony wanted my help, he had to live with my little quirks, one of which was being completely unconscious until sundown.

We met up with Dusty and another agent at the back of the building where the usual dark cars were parked. I imagined that most of them were bulletproof. The other agent waiting for us was a tall black man whose tag read Jefferson. He didn't smile, though, as Dusty did.

"The Director wants you by the front door," Dusty informed Bill and Bill took off almost at a run. "Lissa, he wants you to roam. He said you'd know what he meant. We're supposed to be inside so we'll catch up with you later." Dusty flashed a wider grin and he and agent Jefferson took off as well. I found a dark corner, hoped there weren't any security cameras nearby and turned to mist.

The speech was a good one, concerning the economy and other issues facing the country and how the U.S. figured into the global scheme of things. I just wish I could have heard more than bits and pieces of it as I zoomed through the place as mist. I was beginning to hope there wasn't anything to go wrong when I caught the faintest of noises coming through one of the air vents I passed.

The two terrorists—at least that's how I thought of them—looked like your average boys next door. Maybe they were in cahoots with someone else; I had no idea. What they did have (which gave them a huge advantage), was the second vampire I'd scented at the house in Georgia. The three of them were huddled in a crawlspace where pipes and air conditioning ducts ran throughout the building. I decided quickly that the vampire had placed compulsion—not only on the two young men who seemed to have a knack for building and placing explosives, but on someone who worked at the venue in order to get inside. One of the young men was laughing as he placed an explosive and set the charge. I saw this as I rushed past them as mist.

Tony! I gave the mental shout. Dusty! Agent Jefferson! Bill! Dammit, why didn't I know more names? Get everybody out! There are bombs! Get everybody out now!

Precious minutes were wasted as I wondered why the vampire was still there, watching calmly as additional charges were laid, until I realized he'd likely had compulsion placed on him as well. Now there was a decision to be made and I had to make it quickly. Did I leave the vampire and get myself out, taking the chance that he might escape, or did I take him now? More seconds ticked by—important seconds while I desperately worked to make up my mind. Another charge was placed during that time and the decision was nearly taken away from me. The young man who'd laughed earlier started a countdown from ten. He'd reached four when I raced invisibly back in the bomber's direction instead of getting the hell out of there as any normal (and sane) person might. My hands formed with claws out and I took the vampire's head, causing both humans to shriek. The one who'd started the countdown pressed the detonator as the vampire's head was removed. The entire building exploded.

Chapter 7

Agents Bill Jennings and Dustin Howell had to hold Anthony Hancock back from the exploding building; parts of it were still blasting skyward. Fire crews were already on the scene and rescue squads and paramedics were treating wounded while more emergency crews dashed in. Sirens could be heard from blocks away as thick, black smoke billowed into the night sky. The Secretary of State had been evacuated and rushed to a safe location, along with many other high-profile guests. The advanced warning had given security enough time to alert attendees, the evacuation was orderly and they'd gotten most people out of the building before the first of many bombs detonated. Even so, there were still a few wounded and several missing. Lissa was one of the latter and Tony was screaming her name.

Another portion of the building blew, filling the night air with ash and acrid fumes and forcing Bill and Dusty to haul Tony backward while he struggled to pull away. Arthur Jefferson, the tall, black agent walked over, dragging an EMT with him. "He needs to calm down," Jefferson told the tech, nodding toward Tony who was back to shouting for Lissa. The med tech nodded and ran to one of the waiting ambulances.

Tony got a sedative, although he fought with all three agents while it was given. The news crews were already on the scene and the police were having difficulty holding them back since the building presented a danger to everything nearby. That didn't prevent the news media from reporting at a location as close as they could get and using the burning building as a backdrop for their newscasts. The entire nation watched in alarm as it was televised, with a live video feed showing the bombed building as the one chosen for the Secretary of State's speech earlier in the evening. As yet, no information had been given regarding the status of the Secretary of State or any other attendees. Rumors abounded at first, many of which listed Madam Secretary as dead or seriously wounded. News crews were dispatched to all nearby hospitals, waiting for casualties to arrive. Everything was in total chaos until the Secretary of State called a press conference from her hotel, assuring the public that she was quite all right and crediting the FBI and other governmental agencies for providing an early warning and getting nearly everyone out intact. Tony had been rushed to the hotel as well; he was still conscious but in a much calmer state. Flanked by Bill, Dusty and Arthur Jefferson (who mostly propped him up during the press conference), Tony listened and didn't speak as cameras flashed and video was recorded all around him.

"Find her body if you can," Tony ordered brusquely as they walked away following the brief news conference. Madam Secretary refused to answer questions but promised additional news conferences once information was brought to her and could be verified. The newscasts returned to making speculations, both wild and otherwise. Franklin watched the entire horrific episode unfold on television, his arms around Greg, who was terrified.

"Surely she wasn't anywhere near that," Greg muttered in disbelief. Franklin wasn't so sure. He intended to call Lissa on her cell as soon as he could get Greg calmed.

London was five hours ahead of New York and near dawn, but Charles watched the reports on his computer, gripped by fear. He'd informed Wlodek and the Head of the Council had subsequently shut himself inside his study. Merrill was at home, watching television in his own study. Wlodek had called first thing, alerting Merrill to the incident. Neither knew if Lissa was involved.

* * *

Midnight, Pacific Daylight Time: Tony had been forced inside his hotel room but was fretting anxiously while his agents returned to the scene, helping crews comb through debris. Six bodies had been found so far. Some were employees of the catering service; other dead were security guards provided by the venue along with one dead agent. Gene Pogue had been crushed by falling debris. Tony was given the information via cell phone. He sent emails and paced. The Vice President called. Tony handed over information and paced again.

Two o'clock in the morning, PDT: Tony was given additional updates. Two more bodies found, one blacken beyond recognition in the fire. Dental records would be required for a positive ID. The bodies were taken to the county Coroner's office for examination and identification. A press release was issued and news crews were hounding all of them for more.

Four o'clock in the morning, PDT: The search for more bodies continued. None had been found in more than two hours, however. The rubble was still being searched, even as parts of it continued to smolder. Tony answered more calls and emails, although his panic was rising as the sedative wore away. The Secretary of State had finally gone to bed, eliminating one of the calls he was getting every half-hour. His terror over Lissa's disappearance was nearly at its peak. So many things ran through his mind, including the fact that he'd kept her in the dark, depending on her abilities to protect the ones he'd been assigned to cover without vital information.

Six o'clock in the morning, PDT: Dawn came just after six-thirty and Tony buried his head in his hands and moaned. Another call came—from the President, this time. Tony was forced to answer.

The knock came after ten that morning. It was Tuesday, April thirteenth, Tony recalled and was supposed to be a day off for him. Madam Secretary should have been on a plane and flying back to Washington by then. Instead, those plans were scrapped and local police were crawling all over the hotel, along with the FBI.

Tony wearily answered the door. Bill, Dusty and Arthur all stood outside it. They looked as if they'd been doing exactly what they'd done, sifting through the rubble of a bombed building. "We found her," Bill said. "The blast knocked her through the wall of a nearby building." Tony had the beginnings of hope on his face. "Sit down, boss," Bill said, pushing Tony inside the room and following him in. "She's dead. They've taken her to the Coroner's."

"Was her body intact?" Tony had to force himself to be as calm as possible. He didn't want more sedatives; he had to act quickly and these three needed to come with him.

"As far as we could tell, but she looked beaten up. Bruised, probably broken bones. She was pronounced at the scene and hauled off in a body bag, boss. I'm sorry." Bill was still trying to get Tony to sit down.

"You three, come with me. Right now. Where's the nearest SUV? They didn't start cutting on her, did they?" Tony was grabbing a suit coat and rushing out the door. Bill stared after Tony for a moment and then ran down the hall to go with him. Tony seemed bent on going down to the Coroner's office for some reason. Bill had no idea what good that would do; perhaps Tony wanted to see Lissa one last time.

"Come on," Dusty grabbed Arthur's arm and hauled him toward the elevator; they didn't need to be left behind. It was their job to make sure the Director was safe.

* * *

"That body is in the cooler," a harried assistant informed the Director of the Joint NSA/Homeland Security Office when he produced official identification.

"Then you need to take us there immediately," Tony growled.

"But I have to—uh," the assistant watched as Bill pulled back the side of his jacket, revealing the shoulder holster hidden there. The assistant gulped. "Right this way," he led them down a hall and inside a huge room with a tiled floor. Metal examination tables stood in the center of the room and off to the side were lockers where bodies could be stored.

"This one, I think," the young man said, pulling a door open. Tony was already sliding the rack out; the body inside was covered with a sheet. He flipped the sheet back and stared at Lissa's face.

"Get a body bag. Right now," Tony ordered. The assistant and the three agents stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "I know what I'm doing, I promise," Tony insisted. "I'll sign whatever needs to be signed but I have to take this one with me. Pronto."

"Well, I don't know," the assistant mumbled.

"You'll do it and you'll do it now. Do I need to get the FBI involved? I talked to the President this morning. Do you want me to get him on the phone?" Tony was trying to keep himself from having a full-blown meltdown. He had to get Lissa out of this place. If they put even part of her in sunlight, the results would be disastrous.

"What's going on?" A police officer stepped into the room.

"I'm Director of the Joint NSA/Homeland Security Department," Tony pulled out his identification for the officer. "We need to take possession of this body. If you think to stand in my way, I'll have the California Bureau of Investigation here in ten minutes and you can argue with them."

"We work for him," Dusty nodded toward Tony and produced his own ID. Arthur and Bill followed suit. "We have to take this body, it's important to our investigation," Dusty went on. The officer, figuring he was outmanned and outgunned, shrugged his shoulders.

"Find a body bag," Tony snarled at the assistant, who trotted to the other side of the room and came back with a bag. "Be careful," Tony instructed as he and the three agents loaded Lissa into the bag. Tony zipped it up himself, making sure the whole thing was lightproof.

"Thank you for your help. If you have questions, call this number," Tony handed cards to the assistant and the officer. Dusty and Arthur hauled the body out between them (it wasn't heavy) while Tony led the way and Bill came behind, a hand on his pistol grip—just in case. They loaded the body bag into the back of the SUV.

"Boss, that may be the craziest thing I've ever seen you do," Arthur grumbled, taking the keys from Tony and climbing into the driver's seat. "What the hell do you plan to do with a dead body anyway?"

"You'll see," Tony mumbled. "Just get her up to my room. Around seven tonight, you guys come see me. Get some rest between now and then, okay?"

Arthur didn't answer. He merely put the car in gear and drove back to the hotel. "Special weapons," Dusty waved his badge at hotel security as they hauled the bag through the back door of the hotel. Tony walked ahead of them, ID in hand. The hotel security team recognized him and stood aside.

"Boss, you'd better have a really good explanation for all this or I'll call the VP myself and tell him you're certifiable," Bill whispered to Tony before he left Tony's room. They'd dumped the bag onto the floor as Tony asked. Dusty and Arthur had already left; they were exhausted and looking for a bed. They'd worry over what the boss wanted with a body later.

"Trust me, Bill," Tony patted Bill's shoulder. "Come back at seven."

Bill nodded and wandered toward his own room. Tony closed and locked his door, then went to kneel down by Lissa's body bag. "Let's get you out of this thing," Tony crooned and pulled Lissa from the bag.

* * *

"She looks like she's sleeping," Dusty said, looking Lissa's body over. He and the others showed up as instructed, right at seven. Tony had cleaned Lissa up and dressed her in pajamas. Most of her bruises were gone and Dusty, who'd seen her body when it was found, didn't have an explanation.

"Boss, this is ludicrous," Arthur said. "Being this close to a dead woman, well, that's not normal."

"Give me a few minutes," Tony said. "Actually, give me until seven-fifteen."

"What time is it now?" Arthur glanced at his watch.

"Seven thirteen," Dusty said, consulting his cell.

"Go ahead, sit down if you want," Tony smiled a little. "And I want you all to remember the oath you took and the promise you made to keep state secrets. If you leak this, I promise you'll regret it."

"Boss, what are we leaking? That you have a dead girl in your bed?" Arthur grumped.

"Seven fourteen and forty seconds," Bill consulted his watch. Outside, the sun was slipping below the horizon.

"Fifty seconds." Bill counted. "Fifty-five. Seven-fifteen, on the nose." They all looked expectantly at Tony. They were still staring at him when Lissa drew her first breath of the evening.

* * *

I kept my eyes closed for a few moments, savoring the feel of a soft mattress beneath my body and cool sheets over it. The last thing I remembered was decapitating a vampire and I wondered how I'd gotten into a bed somewhere in between. I might have contemplated that puzzle a little longer—until an unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts, that is.

"What the fuck?" The sound of that voice had me off the bed and against a wall in less time than it takes to blink, my claws and fangs out. My hiss had several people shouting amid a bit of commotion on the opposite side of the bed. The brass lamp on my side was now in pieces on the floor; I think I sliced it into thirds on my way off the bed.

"Lissa, calm down, baby." Tony's voice. I blinked across the bed at him. He stood there, Bill, Dusty and Agent Jefferson right behind him, all with expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces. I might have considered punching Tony right then; the idiot had displayed me like a prize ewe.

"Tony, I may kill you," I said, drawing my claws in and pulling my fangs back. The three agents stood there, eyes still wide and mouths open in surprise.

"You know you won't," he grinned.

"But I feel like it," I grumbled. "What are these yahoos doing here? Don't you know that letting them see this could get me killed?"

"That's a vampire." Dusty was the first one to speak, his words containing near-hysteria.

"Yeah. Nice to see you, too, Agent Howell," I said sarcastically.

"Are there more?" Agent Jefferson asked.

"More what?" I turned to look at him, now.

"More vampires?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," I snapped. "Tony, I'm in my pajamas, here. Would you like to explain that or do you want me to come over there and slam all of you into the wall a time or two?" Yeah, I was grumpy. And really hungry on top of that. No way was I going to drink my meal while three agents stood by and watched.

"Lissa, you're not giving my agents a good impression, here," Tony was still grinning.

"Really? You're not giving me a good impression, either. What do you suggest we do about that?"

"Can she do that? Slam us into a wall?"

"Maybe, but she won't. Not unless you turn into terrorists or something."

"Speaking of terrorists," I said. "I need to eat and then I need to tell you what I found." I pulled a pillow off the bed and hugged it against my chest so I could stand up. No way did I want those guys to see my nipples showing through the thin top of my PJs.

"What is she going to eat?" Arthur looked at Tony, an expression of alarm on his face.

"Relax, she drinks bagged blood," Tony huffed, waving off Agent Jefferson's fear.

"You mean you don't go around draining humans?" Dusty ventured the question to me instead of through Tony.

"Are you crazy?" I scoffed. "I can't even finish a pint of blood. How am I going to drain a human?"

"For real?" Dusty was getting into the whole idea, now. "Do you sleep in a coffin?"

That made me snort. "Now that's just dumb," I countered. "I'm claustrophobic. A coffin would be the worst place for me to sleep."

Tony's cell phone rang, interrupting my interrogation; he glanced at the caller ID before answering.

"Agent White? I'm glad to hear your voice," Tony said. "Come on up. Bring Townsend with you." Tony closed his phone. "We're getting a little company," he announced.

Uh-oh. The vamp agents had arrived. I had no idea what Tony planned but I wasn't sure I was looking forward to it. There wasn't any time to eat or get dressed; both agents arrived shortly and there I was, still in my PJs. I needed to make phone calls, too; I'm sure Merrill, Franklin and Gavin all wanted to hear from me. "Gentlemen, these are Agents Ken White and Chris Townsend," Tony introduced the two vampires to the others. "They've been with the FBI Special Paranormal Division for three years," Tony was smiling. "I've selected you three, here," he indicated Bill, Dusty and Arthur, "to work as special liaisons with their department."

"Paranormal Division?" Bill wasn't sure he liked that idea, whatever it was.

"Yes. You can refuse the promotion if you want, Agent Jennings. But hear us out before you make up your mind."

"We're vampires, just like Lissa," Agent White nodded in my direction. Well, maybe not just like me. They were male and I'm sure they'd eaten already. "There are werewolves, too but they're on assignment right now. We're looking to recruit others; the Division is highly successful and we have more work than we can handle." He grinned at the three humans who were now staring at him.

"We're not in danger?" Arthur asked.

"No more than you normally are," Agent Townsend said. "The vamps and the wolves police their own; that's why you haven't seen anything of us before. We work hard to fit into human society."

"But, uh, aren't there bad ones?" Dusty wanted to know.

"Just as there are bad humans, yes. There are those among us who hunt those rogues down and eliminate them."

"Have you ever met any of those guys—the rogue hunters?" Dusty was curious, I could tell.

"I hear tell that Lissa might be engaged to one of them," Tony had an evil glint in his eye.

"I heard that, too," Townsend turned to look at me.

"What's he like?" Dusty asked.

"Old and grumpy," I snipped.

"How old and grumpy?" Arthur was asking questions, now.

"Really old and really grumpy," I snapped. "Look, if you people don't need me for anything in the next fifteen minutes, I'd like to eat and get dressed." I stalked through the connecting door and slammed it behind me. I think it might have cracked. I didn't care.

* * *

"Merrill, I don't remember how I got out," I said. "I woke up at the hotel and I haven't had a chance to talk to Tony, yet. The vampire I killed before the building blew was another of Saxom's get. I know it. He had two humans with him—both young men—and they were setting charges when I found them inside the air ducts."

"Lissa, do you have any injuries?"

"Just a few bumps and bruises and I feel tired. Other than that, everything seems to be fine."

"Drink some extra blood later when you can get it down. It'll help, sweetheart. We were imagining the worst, here."

"If I'd been conscious, I might have been imagining that, too. Can you call Franklin and tell him? I'm short of time or I'd do it myself. Has he talked to you about Greg?"

"No, why?"

"Greg had some tests run and they're waiting for results. Frank wasn't doing very well when I talked to him early Saturday morning. I think both of them are really worried and are afraid to say anything until they know for sure."

"Damn," Merrill muttered. "If it's not one thing, it's another. I'll try to find a way to convince him to tell me so he doesn't think you let it slip."

"Thanks, Merrill."

"You should call Gavin, now."

"I know."

"Lissa, he'll be waiting to hear from you."

"I know that too. But you're not the one who gets to listen to him curse and rant. Goodbye, Merrill." I ended the call.

I dialed Gavin's number next, even though Tony was knocking on the door. Gavin answered after the first ring. "Lissa?"

"Hi, honey."

"Lissa, I was terrified you were in that building that exploded."

"Honey, I was in that building, when it exploded." The silence was long and very painful.

"Lissa, are you in one piece?"

"Yes. Will I not be when you see me again?" I was scared of what his answer might be.

"Lissa, I want to turn you over my knee and then kiss you breathless."

"Honey, the one, followed by the other, doesn't sound very tempting to me."

"Lissa, I will not harm you."

"I'll take what I can get," I said. There were different kinds of harm. Some people think yelling does no harm. It does.

"Lissa, tell me that you love me."

"Honey, I love you," I said. And I meant it, most of the time.

"I love you, cara. Very much. Please stay out of trouble."

"Honey, I always try to stay out of trouble but it finds me anyway, most of the time." Tony was now banging on the connecting door. "Sweetie, I have to go, all right?"

"Fine," Gavin grumbled. "Call me again, soon."

"I will." I hung up just as Tony barged into my room.

"How long does it take you to eat and get dressed?" His hands were on his hips and he was glaring at me.

"I had some calls to make," I muttered, hanging my head a little.

Lissa, I don't have time to hug you, baby. I want to hold you. It'll have to wait, Tony sent to me. "Get back over here, we have to hammer out some details," he demanded aloud. My life's not confusing or anything.

"Lissa's not an official part of the Claw and Fang Division," Agent White said. "She's on loan and we can't say from whom."

"The Claw and Fang Division?" Bill said the term with disgust.

"It's our nickname for it," Agent Townsend said, smiling. "Lissa has special talents. That's why Tony asked for her."

"I had to make a truckload of promises and beg, along with everything else," Tony sighed.

"Is the mindspeech part of those special talents?" Bill asked. I wanted to slap my forehead and then plain slap Tony for letting that out. It had worked for the speech, though. If he'd just given me more names, it might have worked better.

"Yes, very few of our kind have that gift," Ken White said.

"What else can you do?" Dusty turned his gaze to me. We sat around Tony's suite; there weren't enough chairs so I sat cross-legged on the bed. It was still rumpled from my being in it earlier. "And I want to see the claws again," Dusty added.

"You can't touch them, you'll cut yourself," Chris Townsend let his slide out. His, like Gavin's, were darker than mine.

"Hold his hand like this," I slid off the bed and did as Merrill taught me, taking Townsend's hand, cupping the back of it in my palm and turning it over, so Dusty could see the underside of the sharp claws. Agent Townsend offered a beautiful smile at my touch.

"They're really that sharp?" Bill was looking, now.

"He can slice through that metal lamp, over there," I nodded toward the lamp in question. "But you need it to see so we won't." I wasn't pointing out its twin that I'd sliced up—it was still on the floor on the far side of the bed. Tony got another call while Bill, Dusty and Arthur examined Townsend's lengthy claws. It was the Secretary of State's personal assistant, telling Tony that Madam Secretary was scheduled to fly back tonight and needed extra guards. "We'll be out back in five minutes," Tony promised and ordered all of us to come along.

"We're getting chatter about a news helicopter flying over the highway," an FBI Agent came over to speak with Tony as we walked through the back door of the hotel. "We haven't been able to reach them to tell them to move away and we can't drive out of here until they clear the air space."

"Lissa," Tony motioned for me to come over. "Baby," he said softly, "can you do anything about that?" He jerked his head toward the helicopter in question—it was circling the highway not far from the hotel.

"Probably," I sighed. "Can I take White or Townsend with me?" In case compulsion is needed? I added silently.

"Sure. Which one of you wants to go with her?" Tony asked the two vampire agents. They both volunteered.

"Good enough, come with me," I said. There were tall, flowering oleanders growing behind the hotel so I pulled both agents along until we could duck between two large bushes. "You'll be mist for just a few," I said. Grabbing their arms, I turned all three of us to mist simultaneously.

A door was open on the helicopter and someone was indeed pointing a video camera at the hotel and the caravan waiting to depart. That's where the similarity to any official news crew ended. This is trouble, I sent, landing all three of us inside the chopper. The helicopter wobbled dangerously in mid-air as four heads were separated from bodies quickly. I didn't do any of them; White and Townsend did. I didn't even have time to squeal or wonder who was going to fly the helicopter afterward; White took over and flew the damn thing. Well, Merrill knew how; maybe I should take lessons. I held onto a strap amid bloodied bodies while Agent Townsend hauled a headless body from a seat and dumped it in the floor so he could sit down.

Townsend was on the radio quickly, telling somebody on the ground that the crisis was over. He also instructed them to meet us at the airport. I sent mindspeech to Tony, letting him know what happened.

They had rocket launchers, Tony, I gave the mental shout—the helicopter was so noisy I could barely hear myself think.

* * *

"How the fuck did they get up there?" Arthur watched as the helicopter took off toward the airport. The FBI agent was getting information from someone; he was nodding and telling Tony that the problem had been eliminated.

"You can meet up with your people at the airport," the agent informed Tony, who climbed into a car with the other three. Dusty drove and they followed Madam Secretary's convoy with no further mishaps. The Secretary of State was safely delivered to her plane and Tony and the others watched it take off before going in search of their missing vampires.

"You know, if they can do shit like that, maybe it's not such a bad idea," Bill declared, shaking his head as the three vampires stood around the confiscated helicopter while FBI agents examined bodies and combed through it for evidence.

Tony stared at Agent Jennings in mild surprise as the seasoned veteran used profanity to punctuate his statement. He'd never heard the man say so much as damn before. "No, it's a good idea," Tony slapped Bill's back. "Let's go get 'em."

The FBI was now removing bodies from the helicopter, along with two rocket launchers when Tony and his three agents walked up. "Holy shit, man, they weren't kidding," Dusty watched as the weapons were unloaded. Lissa was standing nearby, out of the way so the agents could work.

* * *

"Lissa, were any of these from the house in Georgia?" Tony came to stand beside me.

"Tony, two of the people in the Georgia house, along with the second vampire were in the air duct at the building that was blown up," I said. "But the third one wasn't in the helicopter. They were all human, too, as you can see." Tony nodded at me. He didn't ask and I didn't tell him. That second vampire had been the first vampire's brother and was most likely a mister, just as his brother was. I'd surprised him completely, taking his head. He may have had last minute plans to get out of the building but I relieved him of that notion, along with his head. Secretly I was hoping that Madam Secretary would stay close to home for a while.

"How did they get a news chopper?" I asked. The helicopter had the logo for one of the local channels painted on it.

"Good question, let's check," Tony grinned and walked over to one of the FBI agents. They talked for a while, with Tony nodding occasionally. I didn't listen in.

"They say the news channel didn't report a missing chopper and all of theirs are accounted for so this one was fixed up," Tony told me. "I'm sure they thought they could bluff long enough to take their shot and after that, it wouldn't matter."

"These weren't Middle Eastern terrorists," I said, looking Tony in the eye.

"No, they're not," he sighed. I didn't tell him what I feared the most over the whole thing—I was afraid that Saxom's progeny were now pulling strings big time, trying to cause a major rift somehow or bring about global warfare. One or two of the men in the chopper might have had ties to terrorists, but I couldn't say that for sure. All it would take, though, would be a rumor to get the fear started.

"Don't worry, we'll keep this under wraps," Tony was reading my mind. I just hoped he could continue to keep this secret while those behind all this were taken down quietly.

"Lissa, how did you get inside that chopper?" Dusty came over to ask his question.

"You want I should show you?" I quipped, offering the agent a smile.

"Is it dangerous?" He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"No. Come over here by the SUV." He followed me until we were behind Tony's vehicle. I grabbed his hand, turning both of us to mist. There were planes parked at gates along a nearby terminal—some of them loading and unloading passengers. I took him inside one of the planes easily, setting him down in a seat at the back of the plane. Dusty stared at me as if he wanted to laugh, scream, or both.

"Now, we need to leave before somebody comes to claim their seats," I said and got us out of the plane as easily as we'd gotten aboard in the first place.

"That's a really rare talent," Tony was waiting for us when we got back. "I expect you to keep quiet about this, Agent Howell, or you'll place Lissa's life in danger."

Dusty nodded, his eyes wide. Normally I'd have placed compulsion for him to forget about this and I might still. But Tony had given away most of my secrets. What was left?

"Do people become vampire if you bite them?" Bill asked questions on the drive to the hotel. Agent White laughed.

"No," Townsend answered. "It takes a long and complicated process to make a vampire. You're not an ideal candidate. None of you are." That offended them, I could tell.

"You're not an ideal candidate because you're young and healthy," I explained. "In addition to it being hard to do a turn, the candidate must be of good character and death must be imminent. They don't take people who are in good condition. What would be the point?"

"What about werewolves? Do you become one of those if they bite you?" Arthur asked.

"You've been watching too many scary movies," I said. "Werewolves are born, not bitten. Get that out of your head right now."

"But you seem so benign," Dusty said.

"We are, until we rip somebody's head off," Agent White nodded. "Just ask those four guys in the chopper."

"I saw them," Bill said. He had—four bodies, with separated heads, had been hauled away by the FBI.

"Don't ever take the wolves for granted, either," I said. "They appear human, work as humans. There are a few I know that are in the military or are lawyers and doctors, even. That doesn't mean they don't go howl at the moon or can't track a scent for miles. They can and do."

"So, what happens if you bite someone, then?" Dusty was back to the question.

"Agent Howell, if a vampire bites you, it'll be the best sex you've ever had," Tony grinned.

"He's kidding, isn't he?" Dusty laughed.

"Um, well." I didn't finish, Agent Townsend did.

"He's not kidding."

"Even if a guy bites?"

"They can withhold it if they want," Agent White said, "but trust me, it's better with the climax. You don't notice the teeth in your throat so much."

"Tony, are you sure telling them all this is in their best interest?" I asked when Tony and I walked behind the others into the hotel. "I'm not sure it's in my best interest."

"I'll have White place compulsion and tell them to forget he placed it," Tony soothed. "Nobody's gonna rat out my baby." He put an arm around my shoulders.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done earlier. You saved our asses, Lissa. I ordered more wigs for you, by the way. This is your last one," he flipped a strand of my expensive, human hair wig. "And since you lost the others in the line of duty," he grinned at me.

"You really are a piece of work, you know that?"

"I do. Just ask me, I'll tell you all about it."

"When you were young and fought with your brother, who won?" I asked tartly.

"How do you think I was so well-prepared for Special Ops?" he chuckled.

"You lunatic."

"Nah, that's my brother."

"Tony, there's something you should know."

"What's that, baby?" He pulled me against him. The others had already gone upstairs; we were waiting for another elevator.

"These two vampires from the house in Georgia? They were probably under the influence of someone else's compulsion. This last one seemed to be waiting for the building to blow while he was inside it. Plus, these two were brothers. I can smell the kinship."

"Do you think White and Townsend can do that?" Tony turned to face me, placing hands on both sides of my jaw, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

"I don't know," I sighed. "The two oldest vampires I know can't do it."

"Is your fiancé one of those?" Tony leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"No, but he's not far behind them," I mumbled against his chest. It felt good to lean against him like that—to let his heartbeat soothe me.

"I always heard that the older the vampire, the more dangerous they are," Tony said softly.

"They don't live that long by being nice all the time," I replied. We took the fourth elevator that came along so the others wouldn't come looking for us.

"We have to get going," White and Townsend were leaving Tony's suite when we arrived. "I placed compulsion already; they won't know anything if somebody asks them about us," Ken White grinned. "And they don't remember the compulsion, either. I sent them to their rooms to sleep. If you need additional security, besides Lissa here," he turned his grin on me, "you'll have to send for it yourself."

"Thanks for the help, Ken." Tony heaved a sigh of relief.

"Little girl," Chris Townsend came over to me and took my hand, "that's some talent you have there. I always heard that misting took several minutes. I've never seen anything like what you did."

"It's the result of desperation, I assure you," I said. He smiled and winked at me before he and his partner left us in front of Tony's door. Tony got us inside with his key card and shut the door.

"Lissa, I don't suppose you'd come to bed with me?"

"Tony, I can't." I felt like crying over that fact. Gavin's ring was on my finger and as much as I might like to let Tony take my troubles and worries away for a little while, there wasn't any way I'd be able to face Gavin later. I'm a terrible liar.

"Lissy, don't worry about it," Tony tipped my face up and placed a careful kiss. "If I were engaged to you, I'd appreciate that loyalty, too." He let me go and I walked on wobbly, stubborn legs away from him and into my adjoining bedroom.

* * *

When I awoke on Tuesday evening, I learned two things. One, Greg had pancreatic cancer and two; Weldon had a werewolf police officer doing my legwork in Great Britain. He also told me there were several runaways listed in the past weeks; something the police knew but hadn't released to the press to keep them from jumping to further conclusions. There were numerous calls coming in with tips on the blond man with the scar but none could be verified. I sent a quick email to Weldon, thanking him for the help and the information. Franklin was next on the list and I called him personally.

"Lissa, it's advanced so the option is chemo," he said. "Merrill has already offered—you know what I'm talking about—and Greg doesn't want that. Neither do I, in case it comes down to that. If I'm unconscious someday, you make sure he remembers."

"I'll make sure he remembers," I promised. "Is Greg okay for the time being?"

"He has some bad moments," Franklin said. "Merrill told him to move in and he's hired a part-time nurse. Greg will probably go crazy with that, at least at first."

"Honey, I am so sorry," I said. "I wish I was there, only I don't know what good that would do." At least I had experience in ongoing diseases; Don, my husband, had heart disease and we'd had to work around that for quite a while before he died.

"Lissa, I would take anything at this moment; Greg's in a little bit of a funk to be honest."

"He never did get his yelling done over the whole I'm getting a suntan thing," I joked.

"No, he didn't," Franklin said. I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

"I'll see if there's any way I can come, even for a few hours," I said. "They never tell me from one day to the next what I'll be doing so there are no guarantees."

"Sounds like the government," Franklin snorted. I agreed with that assessment completely.

As it turns out, we were flying back to D.C., and while Tony wanted me to come home with him, he agreed to let me spend three days in New York instead. I told Franklin I was coming and not to worry about picking me up. If I couldn't get a cab, I had other ways of getting myself around.

The flight on the government jet from D.C. to La Guardia got me there around three in the morning. I was worried about waking Franklin when I called but he blew it off and told me that he'd already checked me in with the guard downstairs. I managed to get a cab and the driver dropped me off at a very nice brownstone in Manhattan. I gave my name to the guard who let me in. He told me to go up to the top floor, which was the sixth in that particular building. I suppose that the lower five floors were all separated into nice condos, but the top floor was all Merrill's. The door was double and wide, facing the elevators as I got off. The entry just off the elevators was marble—there was gold on the door handles and I was completely impressed.

I knocked lightly as Franklin asked—he let me in almost immediately. "Greg is sleeping," he said as I carried my bags inside. "You can have Joey's old room," he went on, leading me down a hallway off the spacious kitchen.

"Joey?" I asked.

"Merrill's last and youngest natural turn," Franklin replied. "Still younger than you age-wise, but not by much," he smiled. "He's been vampire for sixteen years and is working elsewhere now, so the chances of your meeting him are very slim."

"I see," I said. And there I'd thought Brock and I were Merrill's youngest. Turns out, I was wrong. Merrill never talked about his other turns and so far, Brock was the only one I'd met. Joey's bedroom was nice and quite large, with its own bath and small sitting area. There was a shelf of books, too, but they were all computer manuals or science books and not a single one had For Dimwits after the title. Might as well have been written in one of the languages that Gavin was so fond of using; I wouldn't understand any of it.

I thanked Franklin for staying up to let me in and he went to bed. Then I wandered around the apartment for a while. It held four bedrooms, had a formal entry, a living room, a media room, a study that was locked, two bathrooms separate from those inside the bedrooms and a kitchen with every convenience imaginable. The master bedroom held a huge bed, a nice library and sitting area plus a large bath with marble everywhere. I think six people could have taken a shower at the same time. No pictures on the nightstand, though. One of the nightstands—the one on the right side of the bed—held a small refrigerator that contained bagged blood. Next to the nightstand and fridge was a window that was floor to ceiling plate-glass. Through that was a view of New York City worth a fortune. The blood in the fridge must have been Merrill's private stash—Franklin said he had some there for me and not to worry about it.

I watched a little more television before checking my email. I had messages from Charles and someone I didn't recognize. Charles's was just a friendly hello; the other was from the werewolf Weldon had found for me. He introduced himself as Paul, first name only, said he was involved in law enforcement in the U.K. and was more than happy to go on this quest for Weldon and me. He said he'd visited the first site where the three children had been found, but too much rain had fallen and water and time had confused any scent that might be picked up. He planned to go to the newer site in the next day or so and check it over, but didn't hold out much hope of finding anything there, either. He was anxious to get to any future sites, however, and promised that he would do his best for both of us.

I sent him a return message, thanking him for his help and then closed my laptop with a sigh. Wishing I had the freedom to go and check things out for myself, I watched television until nearly dawn and then went to my borrowed bed. Just like everything else that Merrill owned, it was the very best and extremely comfortable. Once dawn came, however, I was out like a light and it didn't matter anyway.

Chapter 8

"I don't know how I ended up in the building next door but Tony says there was a hole in the wall and that I was covered up by bricks and debris so that kept the sun from frying me. Again." I was rubbing Greg's shoulders as I told him and Franklin what happened in Los Angeles. We'd cooked and they'd eaten after I woke for the evening. It was Thursday, April fifteenth, and Tony would be in New York to pick me up on Sunday unless there was an emergency.

I'd also caught the news—four more children were missing in Great Britain. I wanted to curse and throw a few things through a wall or two, but Greg and Franklin needed somebody calm around them so I pushed my anger to the background and concentrated on being relaxed and upbeat. After I finished Greg's massage, I leaned against his back and hugged him. "Have I told you I love you?" I kissed his cheek and moved away.

"Not in the last five minutes," Greg smiled.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure," I said.

"Do you play scrabble?" Franklin asked.

"I've been known to play—badly," I said.

"Oh, good. The old guys get the drop on the vamp," Greg laughed.

"All right, just slap the glove across my chops why don't you?" I huffed in mock indignation. Franklin pulled the game out and we played until nearly one in the morning, when Franklin chased Greg off to bed. The part time nurse that Merrill hired came in during the day but didn't have much to do and was long gone before I woke. She'd been warned to stay away from my bedroom. Franklin told her I was a day sleeper so she tiptoed around my bedroom, causing Greg to laugh. I wouldn't wake up if a bomb went off next to me during the day.

I slipped out of the apartment after Franklin and Greg were asleep. I'd never been to New York City when I had time to look around, so I misted where I wanted to go, including down to the subway. That mugger never knew what hit him, I swear. The top of the Empire State Building is windy, especially if you hang around the tip of the antenna. Times Square was impressive, too. I turned back to myself and walked around a little. There are people out and about in New York City no matter what time it is. Someday I wanted to go to Las Vegas, because I've heard the same thing about it. Someday. Maybe.

Misting back to the apartment, I slipped in the same way I'd slipped out but nearly shrieked when I found Griffin sitting at the kitchen island, helping himself to leftovers. My mouth was covered by my hand to keep the scream from escaping as the man sat there, calmly eating reheated lasagna.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he apologized, a smile lighting his eyes. "I was in the area and I have a key and Merrill's permission to come in any time," he explained. "How are you?"

"I'm just spiffy," I said, still trying to calm myself down and wondering if I should introduce myself. I knew who he was; I'd sent him a Christmas gift basket, after all.

He studied me with eyes that were a greenish-brown—hazel eyes with gold flecks. His hair was also brown, slightly darker than his eyes. He was tall, around six-five or so and looked well built. The thing that bothered me, however, was that he was shielded somehow, just as he'd been the first time I'd seen him. I couldn't really get a scent off him, which prevented me from knowing his age or anything else about him.

"I do it intentionally," he smiled, regarding me from across the island. He'd just read my mind and I had no idea how he'd done that.

"So I should keep all my evil thoughts to myself?" I asked.

"Only if you want to."

"It might be a little uncomfortable, otherwise," I said tartly. "Thank you for helping me out when I was sick that time. I don't think I want to feel like that again."

"I'm surprised you remember it," he was finishing off his lasagna with a glass of wine.

"I only remember the first part of it," I admitted, watching his hands as he wiped them on a napkin. His hands were fine and well-shaped, his fingers long and capable. The question of what he was trembled on my lips but I was afraid to ask. It was one of those moments where you might find out he was an angel or the devil, and either answer might be too much of a shock. He smiled wider and sipped his wine, ducking his head a little. I was definitely going to have to police my thoughts.

"What would you do right now, if you could?" His voice turned serious suddenly and his eyes probed my face. I have no idea why I told him the truth. He was Merrill's friend, not mine, and whatever he knew, Merrill would probably know too.

"I'd be in England right now, tracking down the asshole that's killing those babies," I grumbled. "I think it's a vampire but nobody seems to want to listen to me or thinks I have a sensible thought in my head. Is there anything I can get you? Maybe fix dessert for you or something?" I asked. He set his wineglass down on the island with a sigh.

"No, little girl. But thank you for asking."

"Well, if there's nothing I can do, I think I'll go read for a while," I said. He nodded and sipped the last of his wine as I made my way out of the kitchen. I couldn't get a scent off him but there was one thing I did know—and had known since the first time I'd seen him—he wasn't vampire. He didn't have a scent but his clothing always smelled like sunlight. Go figure.

* * *

"She came back; she went out sightseeing," Griffin informed Merrill after Lissa went to her bedroom.

"I should be there but there are too many things going on here," Merrill sighed. "Did she seem all right emotionally?"

"As well as anyone could be, I suppose."

"She nearly died in that bomb blast—who knows how she managed to escape. And the sad thing is I don't think she would have minded all that much."

"Merrill, I'm not allowed to interfere, you know that."

"I know. But can't you at least tell me not to fuck this up?"

Griffin had known Merrill for fifteen hundred of Merrill's two thousand plus years of existence and wanted to tell him it might already be too late—at least on some things. "You know I can't," he replied instead.

"Thank you for checking on her," Merrill said.

"Any time." Griffin snapped Franklin's cell phone closed, set it down on the kitchen counter and walked out of the apartment.

* * *

Tony came to pick me up himself Sunday evening. His driver delivered both of us to the airport. What shocked me, however, was where we were going next. "I got an invitation to Winkler's wedding," Tony admitted. "I know you didn't and I also know why. Don't be upset, Lissy. The bitch he's marrying pitched a fit so we're getting you in the only way we know how—as my bodyguard."

My lower lip must have been the indicator that I was now in pout mode; I hadn't heard from Winkler in a while and now I knew why. Kellee was so jealous it was frightening, although I knew she really didn't love Winkler. Kellee loved Kellee. There wasn't much room there for anyone else.

"You'll have to wear the uniform; Dusty, Bill and Arthur will meet us there. Quite a few dignitaries are coming so we'll be extra security." Tony's grey eyes searched mine as the plane lifted off the runway, and he held a thumb and forefinger on my chin. "Lissy, she's pregnant and has Winkler over a barrel. What else can you expect?"

"Nothing. I'm getting used to it," I said, pulling my face away from his hand. We were the only two on the plane aside from the pilots, so Tony sat next to me. He didn't even pull out his laptop, which was a huge shock. While we were in the air, Tony informed me that under normal circumstances we could have stayed with Winkler. Since Kellee was there, we had a hotel room. A suite, actually, with two bedrooms. We reached the Dallas airport around two in the morning and Dusty waited there with a car to drive us to the hotel. Our rooms were all on the same floor and Arthur and Bill were asleep already. I served as night guard for the others after unpacking a little. The wedding was scheduled for the following evening at eight and it was going to be close, getting me there on time.

A church was booked for the wedding, with the reception afterward in a ballroom at one of the nicest hotels in Dallas. I stood at the back of the church with Bill standing not far away. Dusty and Arthur were on the other side and there were plenty of big names in attendance. Not bad for a shotgun wedding. Kellee's parents were all puffed up and I could see right away where she'd gotten some of her attitude. It's a damn good thing Winkler had money; he was going to need it. Davis stood up with Winkler, as did Weldon and two other werewolves I didn't recognize. Kellee had a flower garden of attendants with her; all dressed in the gaudiest multi-colored silk dresses. I might have gagged—if I still could.

I tried to get out of going to the reception but Tony wouldn't allow it. "We need the extra security," he claimed, so off we went. The owner of the local basketball team was there since Winkler was a big fan and a season ticket holder. I never told Winkler the whole time I'd worked for him that I was a San Antonio fan. Therefore, I was there in the ballroom of the hotel while people laughed, ate and drank; all while I watched the door, navigated the perimeter of the room and made sure Tony was safe—possibly from overeating. He seemed to like the veal that was served quite a bit.

"Lissa," Davis was suddenly at my elbow. I'd scented him as he approached.

"Hey, Davis," I said, keeping an eye on the ballroom entrance.

"Winkler asked me to come and get you for a few minutes. He wants to talk to you," Davis said softly.

"I'm supposed to be guarding the overly important guests," I said, not meeting his eyes.

"Tony said it was all right," Davis went on.

"The boss has spoken," I sighed, motioning for Davis to lead the way. We found Winkler pacing inside a small room across the hall from the ballroom. Davis pulled me inside and closed the door.

"Lissa?" Winkler had been raking fingers through his hair—even more than normal. He was stressed. I hadn't seen him since New Mexico and a lot of things had happened since then—to both of us.

"What's going on?" I asked. No man should be asking to see another woman on his wedding day. If Kellee knew, she'd probably be screeching at the top of her lungs right then.

"Lissa, sit down." Winkler was still pacing and I didn't like it. I was getting weird scents off him and knew he was upset and agitated, even without seeing him moving around as he was. He was like a caged wolf and that wasn't comfortable to watch. I also didn't want to sit down but Davis was silently begging me to so I did. There were three chairs there; the kind the hotel provided if you were going to a meeting or something. I sat in one of those.

"Lissa, I managed to put a pre-nup together," Winkler began, "and convinced Kellee to sign it but there was one stipulation that she made before she'd sign the damn thing. Otherwise, she'll get the kids when she walks away and that's not how the werewolves do things. The kids are left for their fathers to raise if the female wants to move on. Kellee already does so I just have to wait this out." Winkler raked fingers through his hair again, his dark eyes troubled and not meeting mine.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach, then. This involved me somehow and I was just waiting for the shoe to drop. Davis sat down next to me and tried to take my hand. I pulled away from him and kept my eyes on Winkler.

"Lissa, I know what you've done for me." Winkler glanced at me for a moment, his dark eyes searching my face before he turned away. "I'd give you anything you want if you asked for it." He stopped and cursed under his breath but I heard his words anyway. "You want money? It's yours. Property? That's yours, too. All you have to do is ask. But Kellee is so fucking jealous, even though I've told her repeatedly that there was never a relationship between you and me that she's forcing me to transfer your Pack membership. I have to turn you over to someone else, Lissa."

I'd never asked to be a member of his Pack to begin with. Kellee sure knew how to hit below the belt, however. She was a bitch in every sense of the word. If she weren't pregnant, I might have been tempted to find her and toss her through a wall.

"What does Weldon say about this?" I asked instead.

"He didn't say much, not in front of Kellee, anyway," Winkler muttered. "He's pissed, though. He's been pissed at me ever since I picked her up to begin with, when she commandeered my attention while I was supposed to be acting as his Second."

"Now he comes to his senses," I looked at Davis and shook my head. "Glen's dead, because of her." I turned back to Winkler. "She's not a werewolf—she's a lapdog." I couldn't keep the contempt out of my voice. "You want me to say I want something?" I asked. "Then put up a memorial to Glen. I've been thinking about this and I've contacted sculptors. I think I want a statue of a sleeping wolf on his grave, Winkler. I've gotten prices from several good ones, actually. Do that and we'll call it even. Which Pack am I going to? Has that been decided?"

"Weldon has already done it. Thomas Williams Jr. is going to send information to you soon. You'll be a member of the Sacramento Pack. His entire family has told Weldon how proud they are to have you as a member."

"That would have been my choice," I rose stiffly. "Goodbye, Winkler. I hope things turn out for you."

"I'll transfer your Pack membership back here as soon as Kellee is gone." I was almost out the door when Winkler said those words to my back. Stiffening, I turned to face him. "Don't bother, Winkler." I whirled and walked out the door.

I was worried my eyes might have been the red that comes when a vampire is angered, so I slipped inside the women's restroom down the hall before going back inside the ballroom. I had to wait nearly ten minutes for things to return to normal before heading back to work. It's not easy concentrating on your job when somebody slaps you in the face.

"Lissa, not all werewolves are like that," Weldon came over to stand beside me.

"Like what?" I didn't look at him; I kept scanning the crowd instead.

"Like Kellee," he said.

"Or Winkler," I added. "How's your grandson?"

Weldon pulled out a photograph and showed me how cute he was. There would never be any babies for me. The man who claimed he wasn't my father had damaged my body badly enough to see to that years ago, and vampires couldn't have babies either. I was happy for Weldon and sad for myself. Kellee had been across the room, gushing with somebody but she was in front of us, now. She might have said something but Weldon put his arm around me, causing her eyes to widen a little so she took off across the room. Her tail would have been tucked between her legs, I think, if she'd been wolf at the time.

"Spoiled bitch," Weldon muttered.

"I hope the kids turn out all right," I said. Weldon snorted.

"What did Winkler want?" Tony asked on the drive to our hotel afterward.

"He was transferring my membership from the Dallas Pack," I said, looking out the heavily tinted windows of the limo. Tony had ties to werewolves; his mother was a werewolf. He knew what that meant better than I did.

"Fucker," Tony growled. "The only time a female werewolf is transferred if it doesn't involve marriage is when the wolf has become a problem somehow for the Packmaster. It's a blemish on their record," he said.

"Thomas Williams Jr. said he was happy to get me," I muttered. "Weldon set it up."

"Then Weldon will take care of it," Tony said. "Was this Winkler's idea?"

"He says Kellee forced the issue."

"Same thing. It happens sometimes if the Alpha female thinks another female in the Pack is getting too much of the Packmaster's attention."

"It wasn't because I wanted or asked for it," I snapped, struggling to keep my anger from resurfacing. "How often do you see your brother?" I asked, changing the subject.

"For the holidays, usually, unless there's something I can't get out of. Lissy, we're flying to Chicago tomorrow to pick up security on a Senator."

"Joy," I said, slumping in my seat a little.

"Lissy, this hasn't been a bed of roses for you, I know. And if I'd known Winkler was going to drop this bomb on you, I wouldn't have made you come. You look tired, baby." He tried to pull me against him. That wasn't the half of it. Right then, I felt weary. It was times like this when I wondered why Merrill had bothered to pull me off the roof to begin with. I could be far away now, in the afterlife if there was one. I wondered briefly if there was a patron saint for vampires. Or a guardian angel, maybe. If so, mine was getting a workout.

* * *

Senator Blaine Duff, from Oklahoma. That's who we'd been assigned to guard in Chicago. Honestly, I didn't think of him as conservative or liberal. I thought of him as batshit crazy. I'd voted against him (again) in the last election. Election time was here once more and he was making the rounds. I stared at Tony as if he were insane when he informed me that we were providing security for Senator Duff.

"Tony, that guy would like to see all the gays, progressives and atheists tortured and executed," I flung out an arm in disbelief. "And you're sticking me in the middle of his security detail? You want me to die if he finds out what I am?" I'd raised my voice and now Bill was pounding on the door.

Tony was a little angry himself and stalked over to fling the connecting door between our rooms open. "What?" he growled at Bill.

"Boss, things are getting a little loud in here," Bill was doing his best to be tactful.

"Fine," I muttered. I was done ranting anyway.

"Lissa, this is someone from your home state," Tony frowned at me. "And he's getting death threats."

"Honey, he's the reason I thought about moving away from Oklahoma," I grumbled. "Don't talk to me about how the state votes when he runs," I added. "My vote has been wasted for a long time now. And since I can't vote any longer, well, he'll be in office until he dies."

"Who says you can't vote?" Tony sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Tony, what the hell are you thinking? I'm dead, remember?"

"You don't look dead to me." That was from Bill and it shocked me a little.

"Our illustrious senator will think that if he finds out," I rubbed my forehead and sat down next to Tony on the bed. "As well as thinking I'm a minion from the lower levels of hell."

"You're not a minion from the lower levels of hell?" Tony teased.

"I may be a minion, but my digs are on the upper level now," I snipped. Tony laughed.

"Baby, you need to stop worrying about this and just do the job. That's all this is, okay?" Tony put an arm around me. "I may not agree with his politics either, but we have a job to do."

"And we're supposed to be professional about it." I hmmph'd a little.

"We have to be."

I didn't say anything on the way to the elevator and less, even, on our way to the back door of the hotel where the Senator and Co. were waiting. He was standing beside the usual dark car with tinted bulletproof glass, talking with two security guards. We were going to a stumping speech and fundraising dinner for a fellow political candidate; anyway that's what I was hearing.

The dinner went without a hitch—nobody planted bombs or sent in vampires. The speech was all about taking back the country. The last time I checked we were all Americans, so I didn't know from whom they planned to take it. We were loading into the cars after a lot of hand shaking and backslapping when the Senator motioned for Tony to come over and talk to him. Tony went and then came back after a minute or two of intense conversation. It was really noisy where we were; a busy street was nearby and honestly, I didn't want to hear anything Senator Duff said anyway. I should have paid attention.

"He wants you in the car with him," Tony said when he got back. There was the bomb that hadn't come earlier.

No way, I sent mindspeech. Tony, you cannot make me go with him. The man's wife had died shortly after he'd gone into office following the last election. I had no desire to cozy up to him for any reason. What if someone took photographs when we got to the hotel? That's all I needed—my face splashed all over the newspapers and television for Wlodek and the Council to see.

Lissa, this is an order, Tony ignored my pleading. At least I had my engagement ring on; maybe that would hold the turkey off if he had amorous leanings.

I had my shortest wig on, too—the ones Tony replaced had caught up with us and I preferred it since it didn't get in the way as much as the other two. Sighing, I walked toward the Senator's car and the Senator himself. Duff had additional security guards with him and one of them opened the limo door for me and waited until I sat down to shut the door. Two security guards rode along with us. A small, built-in television was on and tuned to a news station inside the car. I discreetly attempted to sit across from the Senator, but one of the agents motioned for me to sit next to the esteemed politician. I scooted as far into the corner as I could, the senator's door was shut and off we went.

"I haven't seen you before," the Senator offered an assessing stare. I felt shaky under the unwelcome scrutiny, but forced a smile anyway.

"I don't usually do this sort of thing," I said.

"Director Hancock says you're on loan from one of his special divisions. Is that true?" Duff was smiling now. I wasn't. He was in his mid-fifties, worked out daily, didn't have much gray in his nearly-black hair, had nice teeth, brown eyes and political and religious beliefs that would give me nightmares if I were still capable of having them.

"Yes," I answered his question.

"I spoke not long ago with Admiral Hafer, who described a young woman that managed to perform an amazing rescue," Senator Duff went on. "His description closely resembles you, Ms. Huston." The asshole was fishing for information and trying to nail me, I think.

Tony, I sent, he's saying he talked to the Ass Admiral, who gave a description of me. What should I do?

Tell him you're not at liberty to discuss any mission, Tony sent back. He sounded as if he wanted to do a little cursing, but didn't send that through the mindspeech.

"Sir," I said to the Senator, "I am not allowed to discuss any mission. I apologize."

"That's too bad," the Senator went on. "The Admiral certainly wanted to utilize those same talents, although he wasn't completely sure what they were."

I'll just bet he would. I almost snorted but held it back. "I go where I'm sent," I said instead. "He'll have to contact Mr. Hancock about that. He's the one in charge at the moment," I added, trying to be as diplomatic as I could.

"I get the feeling Mr. Hancock is less than forthcoming regarding your services." What did this guy want from me? Better yet, what did Admiral Hafer want from me?

"You'll have to address those concerns with Mr. Hancock."

"What if I would like you to have breakfast with me in the morning?" The Senator lifted an eyebrow.

"Senator, while that sounds tempting, I am engaged and my fiancé is quite jealous. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing anything of the sort."

"That's quite a ring on your finger." It was quite a ring. A full two-carat stone surrounded by swirls of smaller diamonds. I couldn't find anything like it anywhere and was afraid to have it appraised. It was probably worth a fortune.

"My fiancé only buys the best," I quipped. If we'd been alone in the car I would have placed compulsion, but we had Duff's two security guards with us and I was afraid to take the chance. Tony, now he's asking me to have breakfast with him, I sent. I don't know if he's digging for information like the Admiral was or if he wants a grope. Tony called my cell phone instead of sending mindspeech. I answered.

"Lissa, we have that appointment in the morning," he said.

"What appointment?" I was confused for a moment.

"The one at seven thirty." He was lying and I figured it out, finally.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot about that," I said. "What time do we need to leave in the morning?"

"Around six or six-thirty."

I repeated the time for the Senator's benefit and said I'd be ready. Tony hung up. "Couldn't have breakfast anyway, I forgot we had something to do in the morning." I tucked the cell phone inside my jacket pocket.

"Well, I would certainly like to hear someone else's account of what Admiral Hafer told me," Senator Duff said. "If you feel up to that sometime, please let me know."

"I'll keep it in mind," I said, glancing over at the security guards. They must have gone to the same school of non-expression that most of the vampires attended; they never made a sound or moved a facial muscle. Maybe their jobs were on the line if they developed a nervous tic. I turned my attention to the small television inside the limo then and almost cursed. Two more children had been kidnapped in Great Britain the evening before. Everybody was getting scared, now. These two made fifteen known disappearances and someone who lived near the two missing boys also claimed to have seen the blond man with the scar. I wanted the information that the newscaster was giving but Senator Duff picked up a small remote and turned off the television. I wanted to hit him for that.

As soon as we drove under the hotel awning, I was out of the car. While I worked my job making sure the Senator was safe, I also did my best not to look him in the eye once. He probably had plans to call the Admiral up and let him know where I was as quickly as possible, and that irritated me. Once the senator's security guards ushered him inside the hotel, I breathed a sigh of relief and slumped a little.

"He said he talked with Hafer?" Tony wore a deep frown as he came to stand beside me.

"That's what he said," I replied.

"I may have to make a few calls myself," Tony muttered.

"Tony, don't draw any more attention than you have to," I grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. "And just to make sure, you'd better have somebody go out of this hotel in the morning looking like me in case Duff wants to snoop."

"Then we need to get you out of here tonight and make sure the cameras catch you leaving. I'll have someone else come in to take your place later. They can borrow your wig," Tony was grinning at me. Maybe he could joke about this, I couldn't.

That's how I ended up staying the day at another hotel nearby. Tony made the arrangements and brought in a female FBI agent who waited in the room for me, took my wig and walked out of there looking as much like me as anyone could, I suppose.

* * *

"Sir, here's the taped footage," Hafer's assistant, Lieutenant Simpson handed a flash drive to the Admiral.

"Let's see this," Admiral Hafer handed it back. Lieutenant Simpson loaded it into his computer, pulling up the images.

"Senator Duff has already reviewed the footage and verified the image," Simpson said. "See, here she is, walking out of the hotel with Hancock." They had a view of the female agent leaving through the hotel's sliding glass doors and climbing into a waiting car outside in full daylight.

"Well, that destroys my theory," Hafer muttered.

"What theory, sir?" Simpson gave his superior a sharp glance.

"Nothing. We were wrong, anyway," Hafer sighed. "I still want her services; I just don't have enough clout to demand them."

"What might she do for you?"

"Son, I saw something that I still find hard to believe," Hafer said. "And if she can do shit like that, everybody might come knocking."

* * *

Tony was aggravated. Well, aggravated might be too mild a term. Lissa had been right to want to stay away from the Senator. Duff had demanded a copy of the security recording from the hotel, sending it straight to Hafer. Fortunately, Hafer and Duff had both fallen for the disguised agent. Lissa's wig was now securely returned to her head and she'd walked inside the hotel with Tony after nightfall. Tony was thankful the Senator had spent most of the day inside his suite, doing business from there before flying out that evening to Oklahoma. Tony, Lissa and Bill would be on the same flight. It would be a relief to leave the Senator behind when he, Bill and Lissa flew back to Washington in three days.

* * *

"Is there anything you want to do while you're in your home state?" Tony smiled down at me. He wanted to put an arm around me but that wasn't professional behavior so he held back.

"The things I might like to do probably aren't such a good idea," I said, thinking about Don's grave. I'd like to put flowers out since I'd be close but that could be dangerous. I wouldn't put it past the Senator to have me followed. I hadn't had a chance to take my laptop with me the previous evening and my cell had died; I didn't have the charger for it, either. Therefore, it was poetic justice that I had several emails from different people, including Franklin and Charles plus an angry voicemail from Gavin. I called Gavin first.

"Honey, there was a bit of a snafu; my phone ran down and I didn't have my charger," I said.

"Lissa, you are going to have to learn to be better than this," he said. His voice was only raised a little so I have to give him credit for that. Honestly, I was getting a little homesick again and I wished I were anywhere except where I was.

"I know." Tears were threatening again. If it were someone else or if Gavin would only be content to chat, I might have told him that my hair was now a little more than half an inch in length—it was growing back fairly quickly and my eyebrows and eyelashes were almost normal. Another inch or so on my hair and I'd go wig free most of the time. Instead, I listened while he lectured me. Before he hung up, however, he told me that the Council had a new prisoner. They'd discussed it at the meeting they had two nights earlier. It was unusual for him to give out information on when the Council met and that surprised me a little. He also said that Wlodek wanted to wait until my return to do anything with the prisoner. I understood that—he wanted to know if the captive was Saxom's get before the trial. Gavin knew I'd figure it out. What he didn't know was that I'd gotten other information from him as well. Inadvertently, of course.

My next call was to Charles, who sounded as if he were walking around and working while he talked. We exchanged pleasantries for a little while before I asked him what I truly wanted to know. "Charles, I know this is likely none of my business and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but just bear with me for a few minutes. You probably don't have any interest in those children that are disappearing in Great Britain, but it's bothering me. What I want to know is whether the disappearances have coincided with any Council meetings in the past."

Charles didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Lissa, I'll look into that but I don't think I'll find anything," he said.

"Well, it was just a thought," I said. "I don't know why I was thinking it anyway." We talked for a minute or two more before he said he had to take some papers in to Wlodek and hung up.

* * *

"Honored One, I may have something here and you may not like it," Charles walked in with several papers in his hand, some of which he'd only printed off the computer in the past few minutes.

"What do you have, young Charles?" Wlodek looked up at his assistant expectantly.

"Look, sir." Charles placed two stacks of paper in front of the Head of the Vampire Council. "Each disappearance occurred on the same night as a regular Council meeting. We've had many unscheduled meetings between, but those notices don't go out until a few days ahead of time."

"What does this mean, Charles?" Wlodek frowned at the younger vampire.

"It means that these children disappeared when every Enforcer in England would be inside the cave that same night," Charles said.

"But that information is only known to the Council Members, the Enforcers and the Assassins," Wlodek said and then knocked his chair over, he stood so quickly. "Get Gavin on the phone and quickly," Wlodek ordered. Charles pulled out his cell and dialed.

Chapter 9

I sat in the back of the plane and pretended to be asleep so the Senator wouldn't be tempted to talk. He sat toward the front, his two guards nearby, while Tony and Bill sat somewhere between. Tony did his usual emails. That held the Senator off him, while Bill was the quintessential agent and put everybody off. We were now in the downside of April and I scented trees budding out and new grass when we landed in Oklahoma City. Our destination was an upscale hotel with a bookstore nearby, which might have spelled heaven any other time. I was still concerned about the Senator and couldn't enjoy the fact that printed pages were within walking distance.

Tony received phone calls the moment he hit the ground and took most of them away from the rest of us, making sure we couldn't hear. He knew how good my hearing was and seemed determined that I not be privy to his conversations. No big surprise, the man was who he was, after all. When I checked my laptop for messages after we got into our room, I found one from Winkler. He was still on my shit list but I opened it up anyway instead of deleting it like I first thought.

There was an attachment with three proposals from different sculptors, depicting preliminary drawings of sleeping wolves for Glen's grave. He was buried in a cemetery in Dallas; I'd checked into that earlier. I liked one of the three best, even as Winkler's email tried to apologize. Well, screw him, and not in the physical sense. I told him which one I liked and that's all I told him.

Merrill's email was next, telling me that a shipment of blood should be arriving at the hotel the following day. That was a good thing—I was about to run out and had let him know a few days before just what my remaining supply was. He was taking care of it for me.

* * *

"Charles was the one who brought this to my attention." Wlodek studied Gavin, who sat before Wlodek's desk inside his private study. Charles, who stood nearby in case he was needed, cleared his throat a little and looked guilty.

"Charles?" Wlodek knew what his assistant's expression meant.

"Honored One, I was talking with Lissa last evening and she turned my attention to this," he said, hanging his head a little. Gavin lifted an eyebrow. He'd been the one to mention the last Council meeting to Lissa; she must have called Charles immediately after. He was glad she was in the states and nowhere near this. This was turning into a huge debacle.

"Since, then," Charles went on, "I took the liberty of talking with Rad—sorry, Radomir—and he told me exactly what happened at Vilmos' cottage. I managed to pull up Vilmos' last bank charges. Sir, I don't think you're going to like this." Charles handed over an itemized list of charges. Wlodek frowned as he took the papers from Charles. "I highlighted the ones that you might be interested in."

Wlodek scanned the sheets. Charges for diapers. Charges for formula. A crib. Several other items that might be used for a baby and all charges made on Vilmos' card by his human companion. This was why he hadn't wanted to give her up. The Council had not received this information.

"Who was in charge of delivering the final warning to Vilmos?" Wlodek growled. He was about to drag a vampire in and have an interrogation. Charles cleared his throat again.

"Honored One, Radomir was sent to help Ian in Barcelona. Sebastian was the only one in the country so he took it."

"Did he bring a reply?"

"No, Honored One. He called and said the papers were delivered. We never received anything from Vilmos."

"How far back do these charges go?" Wlodek's eyes were beginning to go red.

"Nearly six months before, well," Charles hesitated, watching Wlodek. He didn't want to be present when Wlodek lost his temper. What Charles did know was that this had happened before. He'd done additional research, finding corresponding disappearances of children in nearly every city where Sebastian had been assigned for more than thirty days in the past ten years.

"Charles, I see you have other information," Wlodek growled and the growl was that of an animal. Charles handed the information over quickly and backed away. Wlodek's claws were a sight to behold as he sliced through a heavy oak bookcase as if it were tissue paper, flinging books and papers away from him as he did so. Several priceless volumes were ripped into halves or thirds with one sweep of his hand. Charles ran out of the study. Gavin sat still and watched as Wlodek destroyed nearly everything within reach.

* * *

Senator Duff and his two guards came in from a golf game at a nearby country club and checked in with the front desk for messages. "We have these," the young woman at the desk handed over several messages. "And a delivery service dropped off something for one of your party."

"Which one?" Senator Duff asked absently, leafing through his messages.

"Lissa Huston?" The desk clerk went over to peer at the label on the foam container. "It says perishable on the labels." Senator Duff's eyebrow lifted just a little. "The driver said to be sure and deliver it only to the recipient, but I was afraid it would ruin sitting down here and I didn't get any answer when I called her room."

"Oh, we'll take it," Senator Duff said casually. "I'll make sure she gets it." The girl lifted it; it was heavier than it looked. She hefted it onto the desk. One of the security guards picked it up and the three men walked toward the elevator. The Senator made sure there wasn't anyone around when he motioned for the guard to take the package into his own room before locking the door behind him. "Open it," he ordered and one of the guards drew a knife from his pocket and slit the security tape surrounding the container's lid.

* * *

Bill had gone with Tony for a late lunch down the street; there was an Italian place not far away and they stopped at the bookstore for a couple of magazines before making their way to the hotel. Tony and Bill were nearly silent as they walked down the carpeted hallway toward their room, interrupting Senator Duff as he was swiping a key card to get into Lissa's room. Duff's guards and an uncomfortable hotel employee stood behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Tony growled. Bill had a hand on his gun, ready to take it from the shoulder holster.

"I'm just checking on Lissa; we couldn't get an answer when we called," Senator Duff backed up a little. "And I don't like that language."

"She's a night guard and sleeps during the day," Tony said, holding his hand out for the key card. Senator Duff refused to hand it over. One of the guards snickered and Tony turned to face him. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"I'm going to call the police," the hotel employee backed away when he saw Bill remove his gun from the holster.

"We outrank the police," Tony snarled. "Let's go back to your room, Senator. You're going to tell me what this is about."

"All right, but I think she's deceived you," the Senator huffed. "And after we talk about it, I'm sure you'll see things my way and we'll discuss what to do about the situation."

Tony was seething but had to deal with the hotel employee first. "You, what's your name and position!" he barked.

"Andrew Marshall and I'm an assistant manager," the man meekly replied.

"Well, Andrew Marshall, assistant manager, if you'll check your records—the ones your staff made when we checked in, it says under no circumstances should this guest be disturbed during the day. Now, would you care to tell me why you're trying to help the Senator break into her room?"

"I, uh, he said she might be in trouble, and I, uh," Andrew was babbling.

"Those same notes say to contact me first if there's any problem. Now, I've had my cell phone with me all day. Did you try to call?"

"Uh, no, sir. But since it's the Senator and all, well," Andrew ran out of words and excuses.

""Mr. Marshall, I know this is Senator Duff, but I am Anthony Hancock, Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Office. I answer directly to the President and the Vice President and I can make the rest of your life a living hell. Is that what you want?" Andrew was backing up a little farther.

"No, sir." Andrew shook his head.

"Then get the hell back to your desk downstairs. I'll be talking to your manager later."

"Yessir." Andrew almost ran toward the elevator.

Tony ripped the key card from Duff's hand. "Bill," Tony nodded toward Duff and the security guards. Bill waved his nine millimeter a little and all three took off toward Senator Duff's room.

Tony wanted to tear Duff's head from his shoulders when he saw the open container on Duff's desk inside his suite. Bagged blood had been lifted out and scattered across the desk. Some of the bags were empty; the Senator had apparently flushed the contents before taking matters into his own hands.

"And just what were you planning to do?" Tony stared at Duff. Duff looked at one of his guards, who drew a stake from his inside jacket pocket and rushed Tony.

* * *

Lissa, are you awake? Tony was sending mindspeech the moment I took my first breath of the evening, and it took a moment to force my brain to function.

Tony, what do you want? I rolled over and moaned. I'm not really pleasant when I first wake.

Lissa, you need to come down to 714 right now. Don't take time to change or do anything else. Come now. Tony's mindspeech was terse.

All right, hold your horses, I rolled off the bed and rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to work. Grabbing my key card off the nightstand, I left the room and went down the hall to 714. I knew it was Duff's; I could smell him before I knocked on the door.

Bill let me in and the worst sight imaginable met my eyes. Tony had Duff and both his goons in chairs against the wall, threatening them with a gun. A roughly made wooden stake was on the bed and my foam container of blood was open with bags—full and empty—scattered everywhere.

"What the fuck did you do?" I glared at Duff accusingly.

"Lissa, he decided to take matters into his own hands," Tony scowled at Duff. "I hope you have a way to take care of all this."

"Fuck," I muttered and then narrowed my eyes at Duff. "Who did you tell?" I demanded, putting as much strength into the compulsion as I could. His mind was like dandelion fluff—his eyes went blank immediately.

"I c-called Admiral Hafer," he mumbled.

"Is that the only one?" I demanded, placing more compulsion.

"Y-yes." His teeth were chattering, I swear. Tony was the one to curse this time.

"So, you were just going to have your two goons here kill me—is that it?" I was eyeing the wooden stake on the bed. My eyes were probably red by that time; my fangs were certainly threatening to slip out.

"Yes," he nodded his head like a bobble-head doll. "You're the devil's spawn. We have a duty to destroy you."

"That's just perfect," I muttered, hugging myself. For a moment, I was at a loss as to what to do. Waking up to this sort of fiasco didn't sit well with my sluggish vampire brain. Eventually I realized we had to get rid of the evidence. Sighing, I finally spoke again to Duff and his guards. "Well, I think you three are going to sit there like good boys while we clean this mess up, aren't you?" They were all nodding at me, now.

The blood was warm and I almost wept over having to dump it. Bill had a knife, so we punctured the bags and let them drain into the commode before flushing it all. Tony got on the phone and called Ken White and Chris Townsend in D.C., asking them to track Admiral Hafer down and find out if he'd told anyone else. They knew what to do and promised to call Tony back as soon as they knew whether Hafer had passed the information along. When we had all the empty bags gathered up and stuffed inside the foam container, Bill took it to his room and left it so we could dispose of it later. I turned to the three idiots.

"You're going to forget what I am," I commanded. "You think I'm a nice girl and a good agent. You never saw any blood or picked up my package, do you hear?" They all nodded eagerly. Honestly, at that moment I just wanted to toss them through the large window in Duff's room and listen to their screams as they fell to the ground. As satisfying as that sounded, killing was always more complicated than that. And it would cause too much fuss. "You've been watching television all evening, haven't you?" I added. More nodding followed that statement.

Tony picked up the stake and shook it at Duff. "Where did that come from?" I asked pleasantly.

"A chair in my room," one of the goons answered.

"You accidentally broke it so you're going to tell the hotel staff about that and pay for it when you check out, aren't you?" I asked. He nodded. "Good," I said. "When we close the door behind us, you'll never remember we were here. Oh, and Senator Duff," I said with as much false congeniality as I could muster, "I'll be sure and tell Satan you said hello the next time I see him." Tony and I left, shutting the hotel room door and wiping the memory of our visit from the three men inside it.

"Fuckers," I said, walking angrily down the hall toward my room. I had two bags of blood left. That would cover three meals, provided I didn't need anything extra. We waited to call Merrill. I wanted to hear about Hafer first so I could give my surrogate sire the entire story. I should have had a headache over the whole thing, but it was my stomach that was clenching, telling me I needed to eat. Tony's cell rang; I listened in.

"The idiot went straight to the President," Ken White said over the phone. I held my head in my hands. The president knew now that vampires existed. I wanted to cry. "We caught him on his way out and the President is the only one he spoke with. Hafer apparently was demanding Lissa's services. Didn't seem to care what she was, he just wanted to use her. We disabused him of that notion. He thinks he had a pleasant chat with the Commander in Chief and then went home."

"Thanks, Ken." Tony heaved a sigh of relief and closed his phone. I was frowning at him and dressing at the same time.

"Lissa, don't get your panties in a bunch," Tony held out a hand while I buttoned my blouse. "The President had to approve the special unit to begin with. He knows." Tony looked a little rumpled himself—as if he'd tossed at least one of Duff's security goons into a wall or something.

"Fuck," I said for probably the tenth time that night. I went to the cooler, pulled out a bag of blood and drank, putting the rest back in and locking it before calling Merrill. I got his voicemail. I told him as much as I could before hanging up. Right then I wanted to huddle in a corner and feel sorry for myself. If Tony hadn't caught Senator Doofus in the act, I'd be a pile of ash. "Thanks for coming along at the right time," I muttered ungratefully to Tony. "I think I would like to be alone for a little while. Can I borrow a car?"

Tony has such nice gray eyes and they were assessing me and making some sort of decision before he pulled keys to the rental from his pocket and handed them over. "Don't get into trouble," was all he said as I walked out the door.

The cashier at the twenty-four hour grocery looked at me oddly when I purchased nine bunches of cellophane-wrapped roses in different colors, along with several other mixed bouquets. I'd pretty much cleaned out their little cooler of fresh flowers. There was only one sad little bunch of roses left and they looked a little wilted to me. I suppose spending over four hundred dollars at a grocery store for flowers wasn't something that happened every day. The cashier didn't say much, though. She just rang up my flowers and took the cash I handed her.

The trip out to Rose Hill Cemetery came next and I hoped the police wouldn't come by as I scattered flowers over Don's grave. "I really miss you, honey," I said and sat down heavily, the scent of roses thick in every breath I took. I did miss him. He'd been gone a little over fifteen months. He wasn't the handsomest man or the most romantic or the tallest or most well-built, but he'd been mine. Don never hit me, told me he loved me from time to time and was always there when I needed him. He'd worked as an accountant for a hospital; that's how we met. When the man who'd insisted he wasn't my father nearly killed me after he killed my mother, Don had volunteered to come to my hospital room. I'd gotten out of ICU after five weeks so Don talked to me about the insurance a little and suggested I get a lawyer, since my dad was in jail and I needed to settle things over my mother's expenses and everything. He even helped me look through the phone book and dialed the number of the attorney I'd picked out.

Don was a nice man. I know lots of women like the bad boys or the ones that are a little dangerous, but I'd had my fill of both. Don loved me, almost from the beginning when I still had purple bruises and facial fractures. Three months after I got out of the hospital, he called and asked if I'd like to go to dinner with him and I said yes. He was there the whole time I sat through Howard Graham's trial; that was the name listed as my father on my birth certificate, anyway. He'd never gotten out on bond; he had no close relatives willing to post it and I sure as hell wasn't going to do it. Howard Graham never asked to see me and I could still detect the blame in his eyes when he sat on the witness stand, trying to defend himself against the murder and attempted murder charges. If my mother did have an affair, I couldn't fault her. Howard Graham was an awful man, a drunk and a murderer too, when all was said and done.

Howard Graham received life in prison for killing my mother, even though the District Attorney asked for the death penalty. He'd died in prison, too. Not because he got into a fight, or some other prisoner took offense because he'd beaten his wife to death, but from a stroke. I was thirty-seven when I received the call—Howard Graham was in the prison infirmary. The doctor said he wasn't going to last long and asked if I wanted to see him before he passed. I said no. They buried him in the cemetery at the prison because I didn't claim the body. Don stood with me through that, too.

I was weeping before I even realized I was—my amber, blood serum tears dripping onto my hands as I sat beside Don's grave. Is it too much to ask for a private moment ever? My cell phone rang. It was Gavin.

"Hello?" My voice was a little thick when I answered.

"Lissa, where the fuck are you?" He was growling. I choked back a sob.

"I'm at my husband's grave," I tried to sound as normal as I could, wiping tears off my face with a shaking hand. If Gavin had been about to go on a rant, I think the wind had just been taken out of his sails. I found out that Merrill was with Gavin then, because he came on the line.

"Lissa, sweetheart, we're just a little upset that you were nearly killed and your blood supply compromised," he said. "Have they taken steps to ensure that this will not happen again?"

"I hope so," I sniffled. "I didn't want to guard this man to begin with but I was told I had to be professional about it all. He's such a creep, Merrill." I did sob, then.

"So, you decided to visit your husband's grave. Lissa, sometimes we forget that you have that trauma in your background," he sighed. "Is anyone with you?"

I figured I was going to get into trouble when I told them. "No. I wanted to be by myself for a little while."

Gavin was on the phone again. "Lissa, you shouldn't be alone, cara. I know you are capable of taking care of yourself but you are upset and may not be watching properly. Please go back to your hotel soon. I will come with you next time and will watch over you as long as you wish to stay. Your new shipment of blood will arrive tomorrow. I suggest you tell the management at the hotel that the package is to be delivered to you or to Mr. Hancock only." I got the idea he was holding himself back. There was suppressed anger in his voice. Anger aimed not solely at me, perhaps, but with the people who'd placed me in my current circumstances.

"All right." I stood and talked while I walked toward the car. "I'm going back now," I said, closing the door of the car. I'm sure Gavin heard while I fastened my seat belt and started the car, putting it in gear.

"Cara, I am sorry that I cannot protect you at all times as you deserve," Gavin told me as I drove away from the cemetery.

"Honey, none of us have any guarantees," I told him. "No matter how well we're protected sometimes. I love you. I know it's near dawn where you are. Go to bed, Gavin." I ended the call and concentrated on driving.

Tony was asleep when I got back—he'd left the connecting door between our bedrooms open so I checked on him quietly. The desk clerk had compulsion placed now, along with the night manager. I'd told them not to hand over any deliveries addressed to me to anyone except Tony or me. It was entered in the computer already but I wanted to reconfirm. The last thing I did before taking up guard duty was done on a malicious whim. I misted beneath Senator Duff's door and replaced the blood I'd cried out with a little of his. The schmuck had a climax. I was happy to mess up his black silk pajamas though, and licked the bite marks until they disappeared. I'd placed compulsion at the beginning, making him believe it was a dream. I should have instructed him to have a nightmare instead.

* * *

"Look, we'll be leaving as soon as," Tony's voice halted when I walked through our connecting door the following evening. We were scheduled to go with Senator Duff, who had a speech to deliver to the Oklahoma Legislature. "We'll be on our way to the airport in ten minutes," Tony said, terminating the call. It was Thursday, April twenty-ninth, I recalled as I stared at Tony. He stared back. "I have your blood," he pointed to the foam container in the floor near his feet. "Get packed up quick. We need to be at the airport in the next forty minutes."

"What about Senator Doofus?"

"Senator Doofus can go fuck himself," Tony growled. "We have bigger fish to fry right now. Pack up."

I packed up, grumbling to myself the whole time.

We were halfway to D.C. when Tony got the call. I was far enough behind him and the noise of the jet was sufficient that I could barely hear Tony's words and nothing from the other end. Bill was sitting toward the front of the plane, Tony was near the middle and I had my seat in the back. Tony cursed a little after terminating the call. He turned in his seat, then, and looked at me. "One of Senator Duff's guards was killed tonight and Senator Duff took a bullet in the arm while they were getting out of their car at the state capitol. He's at the hospital now, for treatment."

"And probably milking this for all it's worth," I mumbled. I had no love for any of them, but that didn't mean I truly wanted anyone to die. The guard probably had family and this would be horrible news for them. Now, Duff would most likely get the sympathy vote from his constituents and float right back into his Senate seat. Tony got up to come sit beside me.

"Lissa, I know you don't like him, but he's an elected official. Tell me you didn't want him dead when he did what he did to you." Tony looked into my eyes. I looked him in the eye too and told him the truth.

"If I wanted him dead, Tony, he'd be dead right now. The man has kids, for Pete's sake. Just like the poor schmuck who did die, most likely. Trust me; I know what it's like to have a parent die from violent circumstances. I wouldn't do that to anyone unless I'm fighting for my life or protecting someone else's."

Tony lifted an eyebrow while I turned away from him and watched wisps of cloud float by, leaving condensation on the window by my seat. I pulled my knees up to my chin and kept my eyes pointed out the window.

"Lissa, why are you a vampire?" he said softly, leaning over to kiss my temple before heading back to his seat. That was a question I asked myself almost daily.

* * *

Dr. Lawrence Frazier, or Larry to his closest friends, slowed the images down until they were moving frame by frame. The footage showed a lab chimp that gradually faded, his body disappearing over a period of six minutes. Larry was so happy he could have wept at the results. He'd only taken a few days off from his ordeal with the pirates after an amazing rescue, and somehow that rescue was tied to his current research. When Tony Hancock sent ash and clothing to him from California, Larry had gotten to work right away. He was a research biologist with an M.D. and multiple Ph. D.s lined up after his name. And he worked for National Security.

With the information provided by Anthony Hancock, Frazier had set about duplicating the abilities possessed by a dead vampire. The ash provided by Director Hancock had been compounded with two injectable solutions Frazier designed. The results from both were amazing, but the second one yielded the best outcome. The ash was running out, however, and he was desperate to find more. The potential applications were numerous and astounding.

The chimp gradually reappeared inside his cage after half an hour and Larry speeded up the images and then slowed them down again to watch the animal become solid again. The animal remained in the cage, which surprised Dr. Frazier, but then the chimp had been well trained. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was nearing four in the morning and he needed to go home to sleep. The images were downloaded onto his personal laptop before Larry packed it up, making sure the lab was secure and the alarm set before he left. He couldn't wait to let the President and Director Hancock see what he'd achieved.

* * *

Tony flipped the television on in the kitchen after we were dropped off at his home, and then rummaged in the fridge for something to eat. Thankfully, he'd placed the chicken and other meat items in the freezer before he'd left, otherwise there'd be a terrible-smelling mess to contend with when he opened it up. Instead, he got spaghetti with a jarred sauce since I wasn't willing to let him eat potato chips as a meal.

"That's too much salt," I grumbled as I heated up the sauce and watched while linguini boiled. The article that came on the early news caught my attention; they'd found the last two kidnapping victims in yet another body of water. A pond this time, not far from where the boys were abducted. I grabbed my laptop case and checked my email. There was something from Weldon and from Paul, along with an email from Thomas Williams Jr., the Sacramento Packmaster. I opened the one from Paul first.

Right now, there's human evidence but my hackles are rising. Who can say if those children were drained of blood before or after their throats were slashed? The local authorities have at least two of my kind on the payroll and they've been most helpful. I haven't informed them of what I'm looking for specifically, they're just grateful for the additional nose. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise—Paul.

He sounded like such a nice man. Maybe I could meet him someday. I tapped out a reply while Tony was slurping up lengthy spaghetti noodles. The note from Weldon said close to the same thing, adding that I'd be hearing from the Sacramento Pack soon. Thomas Williams Junior's email was next.

Lissa, we are thankful to have you as a member, Thomas wrote. Leigh may be contacting you soon; she and my mother like you very much. Teddy sends a hello as well. We and the Pack understand that you may not be able to visit often or run with us, but we welcome you at any time. Keep in touch with your Packmaster—Thomas.

He truly was a nice man. I thanked him for his note and promised that if I were ever close enough I would certainly visit and hinted that I might even find a way to go out with them if I happened to be there at the right time. It wouldn't be the first time I'd floated overhead while the Pack ran.

I cleaned up the kitchen while Tony yawned and took off toward his bedroom. "I have a ten o'clock," he grumbled as he wandered down the hall.

"If you'd sleep on the plane instead of playing with your computer," I yelled after him. He just waved me off and went inside his bedroom. Once he was in bed, I borrowed his computer printer and printed out maps of all the locations where the children had gone missing. Then I pieced them together as best I could with all my markings on them. The kidnappings and killings started out in Wales, but had gone in something of a zigzag pattern after that. I'm sure the police or the U.K. version of the FBI or whatever was keeping tabs on all of it but it made me feel a little better, seeing it for myself. The distances between were also something that interested me but dawn was rapidly approaching so I closed everything down, carried the laptop into my bedroom and dumped it on the nightstand before jumping in the shower. My hair was now nearly an inch in length, so I had something to legitimately shampoo. My follicles were waking up, it seems. Before long, I'd be completely comfortable going without a wig.

Chapter 10

"Lissy?" Tony was breathing on my face and nuzzling my chin a little when I woke. That wasn't tempting or anything. Wondering if vampire lust worked the same with females as it did for the males, I reluctantly opened my eyes and blinked at him. Who wouldn't want something like that to wake up to? Gavin was more than handsome and smelled extraordinarily good on top of that, but he wasn't with me. Tony was and he was no slouch, let me tell you.

"Tony, we don't need to be in bed together," I mumbled unwillingly.

"I still have my clothes on," he defended himself and kissed me at the same time. When he was on the job, that's what he was—the job. Get him home, however, and anywhere near a bed—he was Mr. Amorous with a capital A.

"I have a question for you," I said, trying to fend him off. He was back to nuzzling.

"What's that?" he asked, kissing and nibbling my collarbone.

"Since when does the Director take a hands-on approach? I thought you were a desk jockey when I first met you. Yet here you are, out in the field getting your hands dirty."

"These hands?" Fingers were lightly pinching nipples through my thin, stretchy pajama top, making them stand up and beg for more.

"Tony, what are you doing?" I asked. I was almost to the point of laying him flat on his back and having my way with him. Something he wouldn't lift a finger to prevent, I'm sure. His cell rang. He cursed and sat up to answer.

"We'll be there in an hour," he said after someone told him he needed to help guard the President. Well, how about that?

I drank my dinner, dressed in nearly record time, slapped the shortest wig on my head and out the door we went. A car was there already—waiting in the drive. Tony climbed into the front seat with the driver while I jumped in the back and away we drove. Traffic in D.C. is terrible. I know that for a fact, now. Tony called somebody after a while and got flashing lights and a siren to usher us to the White House. I hoped the cameras would be pointed at the Prez and not at me. Wlodek might have an aneurysm if I was shown on the network news.

We were added to the President's entourage at the last minute, Tony taking one side and placing me on the other as we walked through halls of the White House, displacing several Secret Service Agents. They had that vampire non-expression thing going on, too. We were going to the Press Corps dinner, so at least that wouldn't be boring. Tony and I loaded into the limo with the President and the First Lady and I did my best to emulate Wlodek, although it almost gave me the giggles.

Straighten up, Tony sent a warning to me.

"Director Hancock, do you have time for a short meeting tomorrow afternoon?" The President asked.

"Of course, sir," Tony said. Whether he did or not, he would now.

"Be there around two," the President said. Tony nodded. Bill would have to be his sidekick for that one; I'd be unconscious.

Tony never introduced me to the President, which was fine. I have a tendency to trip over my own tongue when meeting somebody like that, even though I'd voted for the man. I was the job, just as Tony was at the moment. He still hadn't answered my question from earlier. The previous director didn't do things like this to my knowledge. Tony was handpicked by this President to take over the office. The last Director had overstepped his bounds a little, flaunting his authority with frivolous abandon.

Nothing happened on our way to the venue; the Secret Service was everywhere when we stopped in a sheltered area at a prestigious hotel and the President was ushered inside. We walked down several long corridors until we came to the appropriate ballroom, where tables littered the floor like dozens of round, perfectly dressed snowflakes. Each table had a snowy tablecloth laid and crystal stemware with napkins and silver plus a centerpiece of cut flowers. No expense was spared, I noticed.

I was dressed like all the other Secret Service there in my dark suit and white shirt. Even my little name tag looked like theirs. Tony had a nice suit on but then he was the boss and could wear whatever he wanted. I thought of Gavin and how he'd dressed in jeans and polo shirts most of the time when I'd first met him. He'd been undercover and I hadn't even realized it. He preferred suits, generally, although he did dress casually from time to time. Since Gavin was Roman originally, jeans or slacks beat those togas or flappy leather skirts all to heck. I wasn't about to tease him about that, either. Uh-uh. No way.

Lissa, check the perimeter for me? Tony was sending mindspeech from across the room. I slipped out of the room—there was a door nearby—guarded, of course. I flitted inside the nearest ladies' room and had to wait for two women to vacate the place before turning to mist and leaving. I no longer had to bother with going underneath doors or around cracks—I could go through the door itself, turning a spot of it to temporary mist before coming out on the other side. A neat trick, actually. There would never be a comic book singing my praises, though, even if I did have some abilities that might fit a superhero character. I had too many flaws and way too many bosses. Superheroes did their own thing. I didn't have that luxury.

I combed through the hotel as well as I could, including the vents into the ballroom itself. Didn't find anything there so I ventured outside. Cars were parked there, including the President's limo, with more guards stationed around the vehicles. The guards were either under compulsion or the vampire was a mister who'd slipped beneath the limo—his feet were sticking out.

"Hi," I said, materializing beside the vampire under the car. He was busily placing an explosive. Momentarily, he stopped what he was doing and stared at me, his eyes wide. He wasn't nearly as old as the rest of Saxom's get I'd run across so far. He was fast but I was faster, removing his head for him before he even had time to hiss—his claws barely ripped into the sleeve of my dark suit. Couldn't have mattered all that much—I didn't know what lying on the pavement was doing to the backside of it anyway.

Tony, can you hear me? I asked.

What is it, Lissa? He could.

The President's limo now has an explosive on the underside of it. Another mister, Tony. He's gone now but the bomb isn't and I don't have the expertise to take care of it.

I'll send someone out right away, he answered. Get out of there.

You got it, boss, I replied and misted away.

Bill and two other Secret Service Agents came out the door then, shouting for all the guards to back away. It took five minutes for a bomb squad to arrive and they had the car jacked up in no time, working quickly and efficiently to defuse the bomb and remove it. Bill wandered off by himself so I materialized right next to him. He didn't even flinch when I suddenly appeared. Nerves of steel, I guess.

"Did you check under the others?" he asked quietly.

"Not yet," I said, wanting to pound my forehead for not thinking of it myself. I went to mist and checked all the other cars. The President's limo was the target; they hadn't cared about any of the others.

After the explosive was removed, Tony asked me to wander around the building. Nobody else showed up, the President had a good night, his car was checked from one end to the other and still a replacement was brought out which yours truly examined end to end, even without Bill's reminder. It was clean. I reappeared at the proper moment, dutifully loaded into the limo with Tony, the President and the First Lady, and rode along to the White House. Somewhere along the way, I was looking out the tinted window on my side and absently humming the opening to Kung Fu Fighting. Tony was annoyed but the First Lady loved it and we ended up having a sing-along for the rest of the ride.

"Director, you may have to learn to loosen up a little," the President slapped Tony on the back before allowing his bevy of Secret Service to escort him and his wife inside the White House.

"Was that an executive order?" I asked innocently. Tony snarled a little and hauled me off toward a waiting car.

We didn't go home as I hoped; we ended up at an office building somewhere nearby. Don't ask me to name off streets, I was completely lost and confused unless I was on familiar terrain. Nothing about D.C. was familiar terrain. This building reminded me a little of the one I'd been inside in Georgia, but that seemed like a hundred years ago, so many things had happened since then. Instead of getting left outside a soundproof room, however, I was pulled inside it. It turned out to be an office where a vampire sat at a computer.

He wasn't more than eighty or ninety, I guess, and sat there staring at me as Tony led me inside and pushed me into a chair right in front of his desk. "Agent Baker will fill out the report, just answer all his questions," Tony ordered. What had I done? Sang a song with the First Lady? Is that why he was pissed? Agent Louis Baker had beautiful mahogany skin, a nice face and might have had a wonderful smile if he ever smiled. He didn't. He asked me all sorts of questions instead, including how I'd found the vampire under the limo. I told him. He huffed his disbelief when I said I misted beneath the car. Tony stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest and frowning while I answered questions.

"Show him, Lissa." The order was terse. Dutifully I went to mist, causing Agent Baker to hiss and back up a little.

"Baker!" Tony barked and Agent Baker drew in his fangs. I came back to myself.

"It used to take a lot longer," I explained, trying to put Agent Baker at ease. He barely lifted an eyebrow as he went back to work, taking notes on how I'd decapitated the vampire. I wanted this over with quickly. I had phone calls to make when I got to Tony's house. Merrill would want to know about another mister—Saxom had the talent for picking them, I guess. This one hadn't been related to the brothers I'd killed already so there was a possibility that he had other siblings somewhere. That didn't make me happy.

"None of the guards noticed a vampire's feet sticking out?" Tony asked.

"I think compulsion had something to do with it," I offered dryly.

"Christ," Tony muttered and walked away to pace along nearby windows.

"He's not mad at you," Agent Baker said softly, out of Tony's hearing. "This is an attack on the President and it's a tough thing to guard against if these guys are vampires."

"Fine," I replied and went back to answering questions. Tony and I didn't talk on the way home. I couldn't help what I was. If I hadn't been there, the President might be dead now. Tony had to take the good with the bad. He was going to have to pull his vamp agents in, I think, and they were going to have to do something to help.

Tony went to bed while I made my calls. Merrill didn't sound at all pleased when I explained to him what happened. I think he wanted to pull me out of there but Wlodek would have the final word. It was too late to call Franklin so I sent an email, asking how he and Greg were doing. I'd done my best to get both of them on berry smoothies before I'd left New York. We'd bought frozen berries and put them in the blender. I even added a little ice cream to Greg's concoction—he'd lost some weight.

I had an email from Winkler and I waited until I'd finished with the others to look at it. Kellee had her ultrasound and discovered she was pregnant with twins. Winkler was going to get off the hook quicker than he thought. Now he would have to hire a nanny or Davis was going to learn to change diapers, I think. Kellee had signed those kids off in the pre-nup so Winkler would be raising them. Personally, I wouldn't mind if Kellee flew off on the broom I'm sure she had hidden somewhere.

Winkler, I am still pissed at you, I wrote. If Leigh Williams is still available when all this is over, I think you should ask her out. You schmuck.

Then I went back to my map of places in Great Britain where the children had disappeared. How were they connected? I couldn't get any clear idea, even though I racked my brain over the whole thing. Dawn was coming and I barely had time to shower and get ready for bed before I was out.

* * *

Larry was asking for more ash and Tony was berating himself. If he'd had any sense at all, he'd have asked Lissa to pick up what she could of the mister from the night before. Tony was pacing a little in the President's office while Dr. Lawrence Frazier sat nearby. They'd all sat and watched the computer screen when Larry loaded in the results of his experiments with the mister's ash from Los Angeles. Tony couldn't believe what he was seeing. If a chimp could turn to mist, then a human could. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind about that. This had so many possibilities. Hostages could be rescued. Soldiers could be gotten into places they'd only dreamed of before—secret meetings between enemy operatives or inside tanks, planes and helicopters—Lissa had. Tony drew in a sharp breath and looked at his watch. It was after four. "I'll have somebody pick you up around ten tomorrow morning," Tony informed Larry. "Be ready to go and bring blood collection supplies with you. I trust you know how to draw blood without harming the patient?" He gave Larry Frazier a hard look.

"I can draw blood just fine, thanks," Frazier grumbled. The President was watching the exchange with interest.

"Is this something I don't want to know about?" he asked, steepling his fingers.

"It's better if you don't, sir," Tony replied. He was stepping onto thin ice, gambling heavily that it wouldn't crack beneath his feet.

* * *

"Lissa, don't you want a night off?" Tony watched as I pulled pieces of chicken out of a skillet. He hadn't come in until nearly ten and I hadn't tried to call him.

"I thought you wanted chicken," I said, turning off the burner. I'd even made cookies.

"I do, but I was going to take you out tonight."

"Then put the chicken in the fridge," I said. Yes, I was a little upset. If you wanted a date, it was good to call ahead of time.

"No, it smells too good to just stuff it in the fridge."

He ate while I watched the late news. No more reports on missing kids, at least. The ones still missing were very likely dead. I held no hope that any of them might be found alive. "Tony, have you paid any attention at all to those children missing in Great Britain?" I asked after a while.

"No. The Metropolitan Police are in on it, I hear."

"The ones that everybody calls Scotland Yard?"

"One and the same," he replied with a terse nod.

"Then that means there are disappearances in London, too." I mulled that over a little.

"I'd take that and a hundred to the bank," Tony said. "This chicken is really good."

"I was a good cook," I said.

"Still are."

"I wish I could taste it," I grumbled.

"Do you want me to check on the disappearances in London?"

"Could you?" I was excited, now. Tony carried more clout than I ever would.

"I'll see what I can find. Don't you want some wine or anything, Lissy?"

"I'll just have to cough it up later. I don't like doing that if I don't have to."

"You can bite me again."

"Tony, no. Any blood you give away can make you weak. Don't go there. You need your strength."

"Tell me about your fiancé." He had a smile on his face after dipping into the mashed potatoes.

I blew out a breath. "What do you know about the Council?" I asked.

"White tells me they're the Vampire Government. He's also alluded to Enforcers and Assassins and says that those guys are the peace-keepers for the Council."

"Gavin is an Assassin," I sighed. "And old on top of that. Trust me—you don't want to get into a pissing or staring contest with him."

"I didn't think vampires pissed."

"Figuratively speaking," I said. "You wouldn't want to get into a fight with Winkler, either."

"Seen him in action?"

"Yeah." My voice was a little glum over that. He'd ripped Tate Briggs apart while I watched.

"Want to check out a couple of houses like we did in Atlanta?" Tony asked after I loaded dishes into the dishwasher.

"I don't seem to have anything else to do."

"Good." Instead of the Escalade, he drove his other vehicle—an Aston Martin. Tony drove crazy at times but Charles could outdo him easily.

"Have you ever wrecked anything?" I asked, holding onto the oh God handle as we drove through town.

"Once." He grinned. "Am I scaring you?"

"If you ever have a chance to ride with my friend Charles, ask me again after that," I said.

"Charles?" He was interested, now.

"Have you ever talked with Wlodek?"

"Yeah."

"Did somebody else answer the phone first?"

"Yeah."

"You've talked to Charles," I said.

"Drives fast, does he?"

"Honey, he gets to his destination ten minutes before he leaves," I said.

"What does he drive?"

"He calls it the Lizard King," I said. Tony screeched to a halt at a traffic light.

"He has a Wiesmann GT MF-5."

"If you say so," I said. "I was never much on cars. Merrill has a Maybach that he won't let me drive. And a Bentley, which I really like and don’t get to drive. Not to mention the Rolls, which, no surprise, I also don't get to drive."

"What does he let you drive, then?"

"The Range Rover. He thinks I'll do the least damage to that." Tony snickered.

"You are not supposed to be laughing, mister," I swatted him. The light turned, so we drove on. "I'll have you know, I had a clean driving record."

"I know," he agreed.

"Slime," I said.

"I work in the security business, baby. What do you expect?"

"More sympathy and tact," I informed him. "Besides, you shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"The rock band?"

"Now see, that's just totally disrespectful," I said. We pulled up in front of a building. Tony had a key—big surprise.

"We've already gone through and pulled out evidence," he said as we walked inside. It looked like a business of sorts, containing a desk with a phone (unplugged) a copy machine, chairs, corkboards on the walls, that sort of thing. What hit me when I walked in however, were the scents.

"The vampire I killed the other night was in here—a lot," I said, turning to look at Tony. "I'm getting three humans; two more prominent than the other."

"Was there only one vampire?"

"That's all I'm getting." I nearly heaved a sigh of relief. I was afraid he had brothers and/or sisters. Which brought up a whole new train of thought—what if Saxom did turn females? That was scary.

"Come upstairs to the living quarters," Tony beckoned for me to follow so we walked down a narrow hall and found the stairs at the end of it. The living quarters on the second floor smelled just the same; no new people or vampires there.

"Did you find any bagged blood?" I asked.

"No."

"They're feeding off the population, then. Have any recent outbreaks of flu or flu-like symptoms?" Tony looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles for a minute before hauling out his cell.

"Check all the local clinics and hospitals," he barked at somebody who'd barely had time to say hello. "See if there's been an increase in the reports of some sort of flu or something." We waited.

"In Silver Spring," the voice said. That was Maryland, I knew.

"Any particular part?" he asked.

"Citywide," the voice—a female—replied. Tony shut the phone.

"Silver Spring has about seventy-five thousand, population-wise," he said, running a hand through his hair. At least he had hair to run his hand through. Nowadays, my wigs itched. "Why flu-like symptoms? What are we looking for, here?"

"If you drain out the blood, the donor feels weak. Depending on how much is taken, you might feel poorly for a day or two, particularly since you didn't know you donated blood."

"Ah." He looked at me for a moment and then motioned for me to follow him out of the building. We went to the next location. Two vampires this time, with two humans. Neither of the vampires were related to the mister I'd killed beneath the President's car. Also not related to each other. That didn't mean that one or both couldn't be misters. I gave Tony the information I had.

"Do you have any of the humans in custody?" I asked.

"Lissa, you should know better than to ask that. National Security is involved," Tony came up behind me and put his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest.

"What is it with you people?" I grumbled, moving away from him.

"We're a tight-lipped bunch," Tony said. "Ready to go? I have an early morning."

"We can't have you staying up all night, then," I said and followed him to the car. He offered to let me drive but I declined. "I don't know where I am," I said. "You do."

"So, you know your way around London?" Tony asked innocently.

"Nice try, Security Boy," I said. "I'm not about to tell you where I drive around."

"You're just too quick for me," he said, pulling away from the curb.

"Yeah. That and a five might get you coffee at Starbucks."

I looked at my map again later after Tony went to bed. He might have wanted me to go with him; he looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it after a while and went down the hall to his bedroom. His door closed before I turned to the work I wanted to do—checking distances between the child disappearances. They varied. If it was a vampire and a human helper under compulsion, there had to be some rhyme or reason for these particular stops. I just didn't know what it was. Dithering for a little while, I broke down and emailed Charles.

Charles, I wrote, if it were possible that a vampire is behind these abductions, would these particular cities have any safe place nearby for a vampire to hole up, like a cave or something? I know I'll get smacked across the chops for even thinking this, but it keeps worrying me. Go ahead and tell me I'm an idiot. It won't be the first time, or even the first time tonight—Lissa.

* * *

"Just be careful," Tony watched Larry Frazier tie off a tourniquet on Lissa's arm and check for a vein. Tony carried Lissa into his own bedroom for this; he didn't want Frazier's scent anywhere inside Lissa's room. Her nose was much too sensitive.

"She doesn't have a pulse; that will make this difficult," Frazier grumbled. He recognized her, all right; she'd pulled him away from the pirates and gotten him back to safety. Now he knew how that was possible.

"Are you not finding any veins?" Tony was getting worried and he didn't want to hurt Lissa.

"May I make an alternative suggestion?" Frazier looked up at Tony and untied the tourniquet.

"What?"

"Cut or stick her somewhere that she's not likely to notice, take the blood and hope she heals while she sleeps. That's what I understand happens."

"But it was tissue—ash, I guess, that you got before." Tony slapped his forehead.

"Then anywhere we stick her, we'll get tissue and blood which should work just as well," Frazier said, pulling a large Vacutainer out of his kit. "This one has the largest needle. Turn her over."

Tony didn't know how he felt about the whole thing but did as requested. Frazier pulled down Lissa's pajama bottoms, felt around for what he thought was her femoral artery and jabbed the needle in. Frazier pulled out enough blood and tissue to satisfy his requirements before wiping off the puncture carefully. Tony watched with a worried frown—to him it looked like nearly three pints of thick, dark red blood.

"You have to be thorough, she'll smell the blood," Tony warned. "And don't use alcohol or anything else; she'll smell that, too." Frazier frowned and wiped the area again but it was already healing. He then packed up the samples and his supplies, leaving Tony to deal with an unconscious female vampire.

* * *

I felt tired when I woke. It was May fifth—Cinco de Mayo. Tony wasn't home so I drank my dinner and wandered around listlessly, eventually flopping onto the sofa in Tony's media room to watch television. I shouldn't be tired. I hadn't done anything strenuous and gotten my normal day's sleep. Tony came in around nine, finding me dozing on the sofa.

"Lissy, what's wrong?" He'd never caught me napping before.

"I feel tired," I said, yawning a little.

"Do you need more blood? Did you drink enough?" He came around to look at me, a concerned frown crossing his face.

"I got the usual amount. If I try to drink more than that, I cough it up. I don't think you want bloodstains all over your carpet." I rubbed my forehead a little.

"Take a little from me." He sat down beside me and opened the collar of his shirt.

"Tony, will you stop? That's not acceptable." I pulled my knees to my chest. I'd put sweats on and only wore socks on my feet.

"I wanted to go to Silver Spring and let you sniff around but I don't think you're up to it," he sighed.

"No, let me get my shoes," I said, waving him off when he reached for my hand to pull me back down. "Just bear in mind I'm not up to a marathon or anything."

Tony drove while I catnapped in the passenger seat. I felt like I was coming down with a cold or something and that was impossible. "Lissa, where do you think they might be?" Tony asked after a while. I'd nodded off again.

"Huh? Sorry." I rubbed my eyes. "Are there Mexican restaurants with bars or anything? It's Cinco de Mayo. There might be a crowd at those places and tipsy people make easy targets." Tony pulled out his phone and did a little web surfing, coming up with several possibilities so we took off again. We went to four places before I got a hit. I'd rolled my window down as we'd cruised past the other spots. This one, Cactus Bar and Grill, had tables set up outside and even though it was a little on the cool side, there were people on the patio drinking and laughing. There was also a vampire nearby; I could tell by the scent. I had to go to mist before he detected me.

Tony shouted as I turned in a blink and misted out the window. The vampire had fed already and was heading swiftly down an alley between businesses. I was so focused on him and on taking his head quickly that I failed to see where he was running. My brain was addled for some reason—I took his head and then materialized, looking behind me just to make sure we hadn't been seen. That was a mistake.

Two more vampires hit me like a storm and if I'd been slightly taller, they might have taken me down. I was unprepared when they sliced my forehead and my ribs, forcing me to duck and turn to mist again. Their momentum had carried them past me initially, but they were fresh and I wasn't, in addition to being injured. Both vampires came back after scenting my blood but I'd gone to mist and hovered above them. If I'd had a voice, I would have whimpered, I think. I still felt pain, even though I was mist. Tony was sending mindspeech as well, and that distracted me.

Lissa! Where are you? His mindspeech was a near-shout.

Stay away, Tony! I was trying to shout back and move behind one of the vampires at the same time. I was slashed across the back when I took the second vampire's head; the third vampire had seen me partially turn. He'd taken the opportunity when it presented itself and now I was truly crippled. The remaining vampire was turning swiftly, looking for any sign of me while he backed out of the alley, going toward the crowd. If he made it to that mass of people, there was no telling what he might end up doing. Many scenarios flitted through my impaired brain and none of them had a happy ending. I had to get him before he got too far ahead or he'd get away. Or kill and get away. Plus, if he had friends and managed to escape, any cover I still had would be blown. I was almost on him, trying to find an opening to take him while I still had some strength left when Tony ran into the alley, gun in hand.

Run, Tony! I was desperately trying to get him to run toward the crowd and lose himself in it. But of course he didn't. There wasn't any way he could stand against a vampire and his gun would be worthless. He fired anyway as the vampire bore down on him and I, using up the last bit of strength I had, flew into the vampire as fast as I could. Bringing myself back to corporeality then, I allowed my momentum to hurl my body into his, knocking him to the ground just before he reached Tony. Snarling and clawing, he fought as he twisted beneath my weight. Dumb luck saved me, I think. I raised my hand to fend off his claws, slicing his hand off in the process with my own fully extended talons. He screamed as I drew my other hand across his throat, nearly decapitating him. Exhaustion claimed me then; I had nothing left and nearly collapsed across the vampire's body. Tony had the presence of mind to grasp my hand in his and finish the job with my claws—I didn't have the strength.

* * *

"Lissy, please wake up, baby," Tony begged. He held a bag of blood in his hand while I lay on the carpet I'd told him I didn't want to damage earlier. My body was sliced and bloody and now his carpet was bloody as well. "Lissy, drink this," he commanded as I blinked up at him. My eyes were closing again when he slapped my cheek. "Drink this," he was shouting now, holding the bag to my lips. I swallowed as best I could, although he was forcing more blood into my mouth than I could comfortably take. More blood dripped onto his carpet while he worked. When the second bag of blood was empty, I lost consciousness.

* * *

Tony cursed himself. He cursed Lawrence Frazier. He cursed the vampires that had attacked. Nobody was safe from him that night. Lissa was unconscious again. He should have insisted that she stay home. He hadn't known what the effects of taking so much of her blood might be. He knew now. He called Ken White and asked him what problems might arise if a vampire lost blood. The vampire agent explained that it needed to be replaced as soon as possible. Otherwise, the vampire could show the same effects that a human might if they suffered blood loss. When asked, Tony informed Ken that Lissa had been hit taking down three vampires and had huge claw marks all over her. A concerned agent White volunteered to come but Tony ordered him to stay where he was, asking him instead what to do.

"Wake her if at all possible and pour blood into her," White had said. "It'll replenish what she lost. Clean out the slashes; if there's any debris left inside, her skin will heal around it and it'll stay inside her body. That would be a shame; her skin is fine and beautiful."

Tony carried Lissa to the bathtub in his bedroom after getting as much blood into her as he could and proceeded to wash out all the cuts and gouges as carefully as possible in a tub full of water. The bleeding had stopped except when he reopened cuts and gashes to remove dirt and such. Lissa was wrapped in towels and laid on his bed while Tony made a call. He had people on his staff who were experts at cleaning nearly anything and he ordered them to come over. No questions were asked as they cleaned blood from the carpet in Lissa's bedroom—they knew better.

* * *

"She got hit last night," Tony explained to Bill, who'd come over to do guard duty during the day. Lissa was back in her bed and everything seemed to be healing up. "Took out three vampires. The last one was coming for me when she got him but he got her first."

"I'll keep an eye on her." Bill promised.

"Make sure she eats as much as she can when she wakes," Tony said before walking out the door. He had meetings all day and while he might have preferred to stay with Lissa and apologize to her because his guilt was nagging at him, he had to go.

Chapter 11

My mouth was dry and I felt horrible when I woke. Bill was sitting in a chair in the corner of my bedroom, waiting for me to wake. "You the welcoming committee?" I mumbled, slapping a hand over my face.

"Looks that way. Tony said you got hit last night and to make sure you ate as much as you could." He unlocked my cooler and took out a unit of blood. "Here, drink," he said, handing the bagged blood to me.

"You might not want to stick around for this," I said wearily, accepting the bag.

"Nah. They poured blood into my dad before he died," Bill said. "He got shot in the line of duty."

"I'm sorry," I sighed, struggling to sit up so I could drink. Eventually I managed, biting the top off the bag so I could drink. I nearly finished the thing, I was so thirsty.

"We'll try for more in a couple of hours," Bill said. "Director Hancock should be home around then." I blinked at Bill. The more I knew him, the warmer and more human he was, and I was beginning to see him as a friend. "Go back to sleep," he said. "I'll read." He held up a magazine. Bazookas and Bullets might not be my first pick in reading material, but Agent Bill was who he was, after all.

Taking Bill's advice, I just slept after I drank my dinner. There were still a few healing scratches and red lines across my ribs; I'd lifted my top to check. I was afraid to look at my back—Bill said the wound to my head was all right. More than likely, I should have called Merrill and Gavin but I was too tired. Tony came in after a while and woke me again.

"Lissy, try to drink some of this, baby." He held an opened bag of blood under my nose. I drank a little of it and he put the rest back in the cooler. "How do you feel, pretty girl?" he asked, sitting on the side of my bed.

"Go away." I pulled the sheet over my head; he'd turned on the bedside lamp and I found it annoying. I wanted to go back to sleep.

"Come on, baby," Tony lay down beside me, spooning a little. His arm was over me, hugging me close. I sure hoped Agent Bill had gone home; no way did I want him to see this.

"Tony, leemelone," I muttered, closing my eyes. My three words had been reduced to a single, unintelligible one.

"Just go to sleep, baby. I'll wake you again in a couple of hours so you can eat a little more." I was out like a light after that.

* * *

"Honored One." Charles had his laptop open in his hands and was standing in the doorway to Wlodek's study. Wlodek had brought carpenters in and his bookshelves had been replaced. His Monet was out for repairs; some Monks at a monastery were doing that for him. Surprisingly, the painting of Napoleon that Lissa had given him had survived, but it was smaller than the Monet and placed between bookshelves, which had most likely spared it.

"What is it, Charles?" Wlodek was at least in a better temper tonight.

"Please take a look at this email from Lissa." Wlodek's eyebrows rose a little. Charles brought his laptop in and settled it on Wlodek's desk so the Head of the Council could take a look. He read through it and then read it a second time. "Pull a list of all safe houses, caves and other places of sanctuary in and near these villages," Wlodek commanded, still looking at the email.

"I already have," Charles said, handing the information over. "Some of these places we haven't used for centuries and most of the Enforcers don't know they exist. I had to dig to find all of them, sir. My sire helped with this—he asked some of the Council and they provided additional information. Most of this isn't written down anywhere."

* * *

It took three days to get over the attack. Bill came in all three days just to watch over me during the day. Tony was busy and a little tired as well, but he offered to take me out, rent movies or do whatever I wanted. I told him I was fine and read some of the books he had in his study. Paul sent an email while I was laid up.

Lissa, we have a line on the blond man, he wrote. I and the other two are tracking him. If you have acquaintances, we'd appreciate the help. Feel free to hand out this email address; we can arrange something in that way—Paul.

My hands shook as I dialed Charles, begging him to pick up. He did on the third ring. "Charles, I know I'll get smacked for this," I said, "but there's a werewolf policeman in England and he and a couple other werewolves have a line on the blond man that everybody is looking for in those kidnappings. If Wlodek or the others have any interest in this case, I have his email address. I think he wouldn't mind some help, to tell the truth." I said all of it in a rush so I wouldn't lose my nerve. Charles and the rest of them most likely thought I was crazy.

"Give me the email address," he said brusquely. I did. Charles thanked me and hung up. I'd done as much as I could do on this side of the pond. I also had an email from Weldon and one from Winkler. Both said nearly the same thing.

Lissa, Weldon wrote, Karl Johnson is challenging Winkler outside a full moon. In case you don't know who that is, it's Kellee's father. I can't say this for certain, but I feel that Kellee is behind this—she and Winkler are definitely not getting along, so she's trying to remove him and keep her children at the same time—by making a challenge. If Karl wins, this will give the Dallas Pack to him and leave Kellee holding the reins to the Winkler Empire. The unfortunate thing is this; Karl is demanding the Seconds fight. This is his choice outside a full moon. Since Karl is not a member the Dallas Pack, Winkler has the right to choose anyone as his Second if he doesn't want his own Second to take it. Winkler has asked for you, Lissa. I've already approved this, provided you accept. If you don't want to do this, Davis or one of the others from the Dallas Pack will take up the challenge on Winkler's behalf. Let me know quickly. Karl wants to do this in five days.

I opened Winkler's email next; it was nearly the same thing except that he was busy cursing Kellee in every other sentence. Tony came in while I was re-reading the emails. "I need to go to Dallas really quick," I said. "Winkler can have his jet here for me tomorrow night."

"But what if I need you here?" Tony frowned. I let him read the emails. Tony whistled. "Damn, they aren't messing around," he said. "Fine. Go get this over with. I warn you, Lissa, you let a werewolf take you down, I'll never speak to you again."

"Ha, ha. That is so amusing, Director Boy." I was grumpy but there was no way I wanted Karl Johnson, aka Kellee's daddy, to bring in some thug who'd not only kill Davis but take Winkler's Pack away from him because little miss spoiled britches wanted it. There was the worry, though, in the back of my mind over what might happen. I had no idea who I'd be facing. Did the wolves have the equivalent of Bruce Lee or something? What was I going to tell Gavin and Merrill? Best not to think about that. I called Weldon on the phone.

"Winkler's sending the jet for me tomorrow night," I said after he answered.

"Then I'll come, just to make sure everything is handled fairly. Karl is out of his mind, Lissa."

"Yeah. I get that, too," I agreed. "Do you want to call Winkler or should I? And if you do, tell him I'm not about to stay anywhere near fancy britches. She'd stake me at high noon if she knew where I slept."

"I'll have Winkler fly you into Grand Forks to pick me up and we'll travel to Dallas together. We'll stay at the same hotel and I'll make sure you're safe. I'll contact Winkler right after we're done talking."

"Good." I really didn't want to talk to Winkler anyway. This was just too weird.

"I'll be waiting and I may bring an extra guard since I have to leave Daryl here with my grandbaby," Weldon added.

"Of course you do," I said. "Is he growing like a weed?"

"You got it," I could hear the grin in his voice. Weldon was awful proud of that baby. We hung up after that.

I called Merrill's cell, got his voice mail and told him that a bit of a problem had cropped up in Dallas and I was going there the following evening. I didn't elaborate. I'd explain if he called me back and asked. Gavin's cell rolled right into his voice mail so I told him pretty much the same thing. Then I went to pack with Tony dogging my heels the entire way.

He had me out to the airport in plenty of time and watched while Davis and the werewolf co-pilot loaded me into the jet, along with my luggage. Tony insisted on kissing me before I boarded and watched until they closed the door on the cabin. I called Thomas Williams, my current Packmaster, checking in with him while the pre-flight check was done. It was much earlier on the west coast.

"I know about it and I'm flying to Dallas, too," he said. "I just want to make sure there's no funny business since one of my Pack is involved in this." I was thinking that with Thomas and Weldon there, I wouldn't worry so much while I slept. The flight was uneventful and Weldon was waiting for us when we landed in Grand Forks. My old body bag waited with him, and he carried it on board with his bag. It was four in the morning when we flew out of Grand Forks. Weldon would have to get me inside the bag before we landed in Dallas. Kipp, the werewolf that Weldon brought along as an extra guard, was from the Fargo Pack and had helped guard Weldon when I first met him. Kipp grinned at me and sat across from Weldon, who'd seated himself next to me.

"We'll be staying in Winkler's guest house and Kellee is banned from the kitchens while meals are being prepared. Winkler doesn't want her poisoning anybody," Weldon grinned. "He's got half the Pack in the house, I think, and they're all watching her."

"That might be different," I said. "I don't think I've met very many of his Pack. How many are there?"

"Dallas has the largest Pack in the U.S." Weldon informed me. "Most other large cities have more than one Pack since there are so many wolves. Dallas and Miami are the two holdouts that haven't split up. Dallas has more than a hundred wolves."

"Wow," I said. "So, that would be a real feather in Karl's overly large hat."

"It would. The Boise Pack has about twenty-five wolves."

"Is it hard to keep up with all this stuff?" I looked at Weldon. He was still a handsome man when all was said and done, even if he was overly fond of flannel.

"Not usually," he grinned. "The worst was remembering all those new Packmasters when thirty-six of them were replaced at once."

"That brings up pleasant memories," I grumped.

"We got through it and we're still alive," Weldon was looking on the positive side of things.

Oddly enough, I was thinking about all the times I'd stayed up on a Saturday night before becoming vampire and before Don had gone into the hospital, just so I could finish a book without any interruptions. I'd given up sleep, then, just to do it. Now there wasn't any staying up past my bedtime. It was a shame. Weldon and Davis wrapped me in my body bag and zipped me up when the sun rose. At least I didn't fry when the sun came up; I know that much.

* * *

"How's the bitch?" Davis asked Winkler as he helped Weldon carry Lissa's body bag off the plane.

"As foul tempered as ever," Winkler said, pulling the bag away and lifting it over his shoulder. The back of the van was open so he settled it to one side and then stood guard, making sure nobody placed anything else on top of Lissa.

"Kellee's behind this," Weldon heaved a bag into the back of the van on the opposite side.

"I know that," Winkler snapped before recalling that he spoke to the Grand Master.

"Does Kellee know who you're bringing in?" Weldon asked, pointedly ignoring Winkler's gaffe.

"Not yet," Winkler laughed humorlessly. "She probably thinks Davis is going to take this. Or maybe Trajan."

"Trajan might be a good choice if Davis didn't want it," Weldon nodded. Trajan was nearly seven feet tall and all muscle. He had no desire to run a Pack, however, and seemed content to be just a member, although he was a good fighter.

"We have Lissa." Winkler sighed and climbed into the passenger seat of the van. He'd driven to the airport by himself, but Davis was driving now with Weldon and Kipp loaded into the back seat.

"Thomas Williams is coming," Weldon informed Winkler as they made their way toward Winkler's mansion in Denton.

"I would too, if I were in his place," Winkler nodded.

* * *

"Look at this." Dr. Frazier showed Tony the new footage. The chimp was disappearing immediately, once he'd received the compound with the new blood. "Not only does he change immediately but he can walk through the wire of his cage. The small dose lasts around fifteen minutes. I was afraid to give any more since we're limited on the supply for the moment. We need more but I have enough to test it on six volunteers this afternoon."

"You're going ahead and doing human testing?" Tony handed Frazier a skeptical look. They still didn't know what the side effects might be if there were any, or what long-term problems might arise.

"This is too good to pass up," Frazier replied. "We have the supply on hand now and since I don't know what the shelf life is on the fresh tissue and blood, we're going ahead with this. The chimp is doing fine so far."

"I think you're pushing this and we won't have the donor for much longer." Tony didn't like doing this, realizing that he might have made a mistake, offering Lissa as he had. She certainly hadn't volunteered.

"What do you mean you won't have the donor for much longer?" Frazier frowned at the Director.

"Just what I said," Tony gave Frazier a level look. "She was loaned out to us for a limited time. We have four more weeks, tops, before she goes home. And if I understand things correctly, if her fiancé finds out what we're doing, that might not be a good thing." He didn't say that if Lissa found out, it might not be a good thing either.

Dr. Lawrence Frazier huffed a bit at Tony's words. "Who is he? The King of the Vampires or something?" He was attempting a joke.

"No. He's an Assassin for the King of the Vampires," Tony said flatly. Dr. Frazier stared at his Director in alarm.

* * *

"Paul Winthrop," the werewolf introduced himself and shook hands with Merrill. Gavin, standing off to the side, didn't offer so Paul knew not to shake with him. "We have a sighting—and the scent, of course," Paul went right into the information he had. "There's an old cottage roughly three kilometers from town and it's falling to ruin; we've tracked him there. We've caught vampire scent, too. That's why we wanted to present this to you, hoping you could help us with that little problem. We'll take the human in and give you the other."

"Fair enough," Merrill nodded. "We have backup; they're waiting just outside the village." Merrill and Gavin had met with the werewolf officer in a tiny village between Mildenhall and Brandon in East Anglia. The small pub was moderately busy so Merrill was careful not to draw too much attention. He and Gavin were dressed in jeans and knit shirts since they were going to be working. If their luck held, that is.

"Would you like a ride?" Merrill asked politely as they walked into the foggy night. Paul saw the Range Rover parked right outside the pub and taking a chance, accepted. He called the other two werewolves who'd worked on the investigation with him while Merrill drove to the rendezvous point outside the village. Merrill pulled to a stop when they came upon two other vehicles. Henri and Gervais were both there, as were Radomir, Stephan and Brock. Rolfe was even there; he'd begged Wlodek to allow him to come and Wlodek had reluctantly agreed. The other two werewolves showed up shortly after Merrill, Gavin and Paul arrived. Brief introductions were made and they began their trek on foot toward the small, long-abandoned safe house—the only safe house—in the area.

Henri and Gervais became mist and went to check things over inside the house. A small import was parked in high grass and weeds outside it; Merrill and Gavin knew the odds were very good that Sebastian and his human slave were inside, hidden in a cellar beneath the small, stone structure. Henri and Gervais returned quickly with verification.

"He looks like a monster," Gervais said, once he'd regained corporeality. "Sebastian has neglected himself and smells horrible."

"Does the human have weapons?" Paul asked softly.

"We didn't see any," Henri replied. "He is a sheep, completely under Sebastian's control."

"He was a petty criminal before this," Paul said. "Now, he will bear the brunt of all the killings."

"He will spend the rest of his days in prison. We will not allow the true killer that luxury," Gavin growled. Paul nodded his understanding.

The combined forces made their way quietly toward the house. Sebastian and his slave were huddled in the dirt cellar of the tiny, stone dwelling. Gavin silently opened the hidden trap door and let himself down. Merrill and Rolfe followed closely behind.

* * *

"Where's the van?" Weldon surveyed the parking lot. They'd stopped at a restaurant for breakfast and now the van wasn't where they'd left it.

"Fuck!" Winkler shouted, turning a circle in the empty space. Davis pulled out his cell and dialed the police.

* * *

"I have the van and all the bags," Elias Garber spoke into the pre-paid cell phone he carried.

"Good." Karl Johnson was pacing inside his downtown Dallas hotel suite. "As soon as you hit the New Mexico border, stop and open every one of those bags, got it? I want everything exposed to daylight. No matter what you see, under no circumstances are you to close any of those bags up again, you understand?" Karl was barking orders over the phone. He'd spent years intimidating prosecutors and witnesses alike inside the courtroom and he was used to being obeyed. Winkler was going down and Karl's daughter and grandchildren would inherit the Winkler Empire. Karl smiled as he terminated the call.

"What the fuck is he talking about?" Elias grumbled to himself, tossing the cell into the passenger seat. He would be well paid for this bit of thievery, however, so he turned his mind to what he might do with the money and kept driving.

* * *

Sebastian was a crazed fiend, slashing Stephan across the chest, along with causing minor injuries to some of the others as he fought them off. Paul and his werewolf companions quickly captured the human slave, who cowered away from the swift and vicious fighting among the vampires. Weeping and drooling as they held him, the human stared in blank-eyed fright as Paul and his companions pulled him away. The werewolves were satisfied to watch as the vampires worked to contain the rogue—the beastly hulk had burst from the cellar with a roar, attempting to fight all who'd come to capture him.

"Hold and stand," Merrill thundered, placing a strong enough compulsion to break any coherent mind once he'd caught Sebastian's gaze. Sebastian was no longer coherent but Merrill's compulsion held. Sebastian halted in his tracks, wavering a little at the sudden cease of movement in the empty field outside the cottage.

"Chain him," Merrill commanded. Rolfe and Gavin took the chains that Brock held, fastening them around Sebastian's neck, wrists, waist and ankles. "You may blink," Merrill said. Sebastian blinked. "Now, follow this one," Merrill placed Gavin before Sebastian. Rolfe and Radomir walked at Sebastian's side; the two misters came behind. Gavin led the way to the waiting vehicles as Merrill hung back to speak with Paul and his werewolf companions.

"We owe you," Merrill nodded to them. "If you need assistance with this one or with anything else that doesn't violate our laws, contact us through the email you have. Someone will answer." Merrill jerked his head at the blank-eyed human.

"I am grateful that your female went to the Grand Master and asked him to help with this," Paul said. "He informed me that she is Pack, along with being one of yours. I would never have gone outside my jurisdiction otherwise. I had to take vacation time to do this but as you can see, it was well worth it."

"If you need reimbursement, contact this number," Merrill said, handing over a business card with his solicitor's name and phone number printed across the front.

Paul snorted. "This is my reimbursement," he nodded toward the blond man. "The children are safer tonight."

"Yes, they are," Merrill agreed, turning to follow the other vampires.

* * *

"What the fuck do you mean, somebody stole the van?" Tony Hancock wanted to tear his hair out by the roots. Winkler called him after local police had been less than sympathetic over a stolen van and luggage. They had murderers and more important things to deal with, they'd pointed out. Winkler couldn't tell them it was a kidnapping and possible murder, along with the theft. How could you explain to the police that the thief had taken a bag containing a female vampire?

"We stopped for breakfast and it was gone when we came out," Winkler knew his words were weak. They should have driven straight home, but the lure of steak and eggs was too great at his favorite breakfast restaurant.

"Do you have the tag number? Anything to identify it?" Tony was brusque as he asked pertinent questions.

Winkler rattled off the tag number and a description of the van, realizing it might not help much. Nothing prevented the thief from covering Winkler Security decals or removing or changing tags. And if Lissa wasn't found, either Davis or Trajan would be forced to fight come Wednesday night. Winkler didn't want that to happen. Karl was consistently tight-lipped over the approaching challenge and that spelled one thing to Winkler—Kellee's father had paid a fighter and was waiting to reveal him at the challenge. There were a few mercenaries in the werewolf world—those that specialized in gaining a Pack for any challenger who might afford their services. If Winkler's Second, temporary or otherwise, lost the confrontation, Winkler's continued existence would be at the mercy of the New Dallas Packmaster—Kellee's father Karl Johnson. Weldon was there to enforce Pack law and Winkler would be a dead wolf, leaving Kellee and his unborn children as heirs to his empire. Winkler growled just thinking about it. He wondered if this had been Kellee's intent all along, with Karl pushing her, of course.

"I'll get people on this," Tony said, bringing Winkler back to earth. "I'll hand the information to the Texas Highway Patrol and the Dallas FBI office," he added. "We'll keep you posted." Tony hung up. Winkler was back to cursing again.

* * *

"You've lost my Pack member?" Thomas Williams was incredulous as Winkler paced inside his spacious kitchen.

"The van was stolen," Winkler growled. Weldon wasn't speaking to him now and neither was Davis. Thomas Williams was about to join that growing crowd.

* * *

"Daddy, Winkler's trying to explain things to the Sacramento Packmaster," Kellee giggled while she whispered into her cell phone. "He isn't happy, Daddy."

"Just hold tight, baby, we're going to come out of this smelling like a rose," Karl assured his daughter. It was such a stroke of luck that Kellee had gotten pregnant. Karl had sent her after Winkler—to seduce him. Karl was hoping a marriage might come about—after all, his little girl was model gorgeous and Winkler should have fallen for her like a ton of bricks. They'd been on the outs, though, and Kellee was about to get sent packing when she discovered she was pregnant. No doubt about it, his little girl could turn on the waterworks when she needed it. Now, he and his daughter were in Dallas and Karl was about to take over the vast Winkler empire. Karl left his wife in Boise; she fretted over things like this and there really wasn't any need to worry—Karl had things well in hand.

* * *

Six hours had passed since the van was stolen and there was no word. Winkler sent some of his Pack out, checking the major highways out of town, but nothing had been found or reported. This was the needle in the haystack and the only one who might have been successful at tracking the van would be Lissa herself. Instead, she was zipped inside a body bag in the back of a stolen van. At least he hoped she was still zipped inside it and not burning out in the sun somewhere.

* * *

Elias passed a sign indicating the distance to Hobbs, New Mexico. He had fifty miles to go to complete his mission, make his last phone call and arrange to collect the money in two days. He would be very glad to walk away from all this. The latex gloves he wore were hot; he'd been compelled to wear them so his fingerprints wouldn't be found. Now, his hands were sweating and slick inside them. He had the A/C turned as high as it would go—it was quite warm in west Texas and New Mexico would be the same if not warmer. Elias made sure he drove the speed limit. Even with replacement tags on the vehicle and temporary decals covering the originals, the van itself might raise suspicions if he were stopped. Elias didn't want to risk it.

Forty minutes later, Elias pulled off the highway and went in search of a farm road so this job could be finished. It was around four, perhaps a little after, and the sun was still high but falling toward the horizon. Elias found what he wanted—a dirt road past a small town. He turned onto that. After making sure nobody was watching, Elias stopped the van. "I don't know what the hell he wanted all the bags opened up for, but hey, fifty grand ain't nothin' to sneeze at," Elias mumbled, jerking the van's back doors open.

"Hello," Griffin smiled at Elias and allowed his long legs to swing out of the van.

Chapter 12

Elias backed up so fast he fell, raising a small dust cloud on the dirt road as he hit the dry surface. Griffin was standing now and that caused Elias to crab backward. "You can't get away," Griffin said pleasantly. "You may as well stop now." Elias was shaking his head but his limbs suddenly refused to obey, forcing his body to drop onto the dusty road.

"We'll wait for sunset, I think," Griffin went on, scanning the sky. He returned to the van and sat on the back edge, allowing the roof of the van to shade his face.

* * *

I was still zipped inside the body bag when I woke and that shouldn't be. That always terrifies me, as I'm slightly claustrophobic. My claws were fully extended as I ripped my way from the bag—I was wild-eyed, fanged and clawed when I slashed my way through the thick, black material. The man lying on his back in the dust behind the van shrieked and rolled over in an attempt to rise and run at the sight of me. He shouldn't have done that. I was on him in two blinks, hauling him back by the collar and shaking him. He tried to fight me until I held a single, lengthy claw against his throat, which deflated him immediately.

"Would you care to tell me where I am and who you are?" I placed compulsion. He shook his head as best he could since I still had a claw against his neck. "Let me rephrase that, then," I said. "Tell me who you are and where I am."

"E-Elias Garber," he stuttered. "Just south of N-Nadine, New Mexico."

* * *

"We should be hearing from her soon if she's still alive," Weldon lifted an edge of the heavy drapes covering his guesthouse window. The sun had finally set. Thomas Williams and Kipp North were both in the living area with the Grand Master and Thomas was clearly upset.

"And what if we don't hear from her?" Thomas rose from his seat and paced in an agitated manner.

"Then I hope we find the van," Weldon sighed.

"For the fucking bags?"

"To give Lissa a proper funeral," Weldon corrected.

* * *

"That's right, sir. I opened the bags, just like you said." Elias placed the phone call as instructed.

"And what did you see?" The voice on the other end queried.

"Somethin' turned to ash. Just burned right up," Elias replied.

"Very good. Excellent. You've earned your money. I'll send it to the place we agreed upon," Karl Johnson's voice was almost gleeful. "Dump the van. You didn't leave fingerprints, did you?"

"No, sir. Wore gloves the whole time."

"Perfect. You've done me good service." The phone went dead.

Elias held the phone out to me, his eyes still empty. I held him under compulsion and he'd spilled everything, including giving me the description of the man who'd hired him for the job. Kellee's daddy wanted me dead for sure. He probably had some thug coming in that would kill whoever Winkler put forward, just so he and his scheming little bitch girl could take what Winkler had built. I might have been pissed at Winkler, but Kellee and her daddy were the scum of the earth. If Winkler's Second died, Winkler's life might be forfeit as well. At least that's what Tony said. He was well versed on werewolf politics, since his mother was a werewolf and his werewolf stepfather was Second in the Denver Pack.

Taking the phone away from Elias, I grabbed my laptop from the back of the van, along with my cooler of blood and the ripped-up body bag.

"You'll forget you ever saw me alive," I said. "You're free. Go on," I nodded at Elias.

"I can pick up my money?"

"Absolutely," I said. He jumped into the van and drove off. I pulled out my cell and placed a call to Tony.

"No, I don't want Winkler to know," I said after Thomas Williams Jr. nearly shouted with relief while listening in on my phone conversation with Weldon. "He'll think I'm dead, just as Karl and Kellee think I'm dead. Actually, Karl thinks he knows I'm dead."

"Lissa, we had no idea." Weldon and Thomas had left the grounds of Winkler's mansion. I'd asked Tony to give Weldon and Thomas a call, telling them to go elsewhere before contacting me. Winkler was in the security business after all, and I wouldn't put it past him to have the place bugged or something.

"What about the guy who was paid to steal the van?"

"I got the location for the money drop-off and Tony's sending somebody to apprehend him," I replied. "Where is the challenge going to take place? And will there be a problem if I show up at the last minute?"

"There won't be," Weldon growled.

"Weldon, you and Thomas are going to have to turn in the acting job of your careers, I think. You need to act as if I'm still missing or dead. Tony knows that you'll be in contact with him from time to time. He may call you. At least there's only one more day that we have to wait."

"Where are you now?" Weldon asked.

"Someplace safe," I said.

"The challenge is at the Wilburn Ranch, just north of Denton," Weldon said. "Have you seen those big iron gates with the name spelled out in wrought iron?"

"Yeah. They raise race horses there, don't they?" I'd seen it on my trips between Oklahoma City and Dallas.

"That's the place. The challenge spot is half a mile behind the house, straight east, almost. There are trees there with a little clearing in the middle."

"I'll be there as long as there aren't any other surprises," I said.

"We're counting on it," Weldon grumbled and hung up.

I blew out a sigh and looked around me. The safe house that Gavin and I had spent Christmas in was still the same. The fridge was stocked with blood—Merrill had made a call or two and arranged that for me. Some nameless, faceless local vampire had done the legwork. That reminded me that I hadn't checked my email messages. I had one from Paul and another from Bryan Riley, the vampire I'd met in London who worked as an assistant to a night news producer. Intrigued, I opened it first. I got my first look at the news footage that had more than likely spilled over all the networks while I'd been hauled off to New Mexico in a stolen van. I'd been driven back to Dallas by an FBI agent at Tony's direction.

"Two local constables, with assistance from a vacationing policeman from Wales managed to track the child killer," the news anchor announced with a beautiful British accent. "The suspect is currently undergoing psychological testing and appears to be mentally incompetent. At times he confesses to every murder, at others he proclaims his innocence. Authorities are quite baffled over the entire affair." The footage skipped to a crowd waiting outside a building as the blond man was led to a waiting transport. The crowd was shouting and hurling insults at the man. I shook my head and closed the video portion of the email.

Thought you might want to see that, Bryan had written. I tapped out a thank you, before opening what Paul sent.

Lissa, you were right about all of it, he said. The other has been apprehended and I have no doubt that the situation will be rectified. Feel free to contact me any time if you need something—Paul.

Next on my list was a call to Gavin, and if there'd been any way to avoid that, I would have. Merrill still didn't know the whole story; I'd told him the van had been stolen and that I'd wakened on a deserted road and managed to get myself back to civilization. Gavin picked up on the first ring.

"Hi, honey," I said.

"Lissa, what is this I hear about your being kidnapped and driven to a neighboring state?" Gavin was demanding answers. No greetings or pleasantries with him. Nuh-uh. No way.

"Honey, I was asleep before they ever took me off the plane and apparently they stopped somewhere for a meal and the van was stolen. When I woke, the van was parked on a dirt road about a zillion miles from nowhere."

"Have they apprehended the thief?" He was angry I could tell—his temper was barely in check.

"Not yet, honey, but they're looking."

"Lissa, when you come home to me, I will be most reluctant to allow you out of the country again." That might suck—what was I supposed to do, stay home and do needlepoint or something?

"Honey, does that mean you won't let me out of the house?"

"Lissa, I want to tell you not tax my patience, but I know that would make you crazy. Therefore, unless you find your way into more trouble, I will not confine you. I have no idea what Merrill plans to do over the entire situation. We will discuss this with him when you return." I was scheduled to go back in three weeks. I sighed wearily. "Lissa, I can almost see the pout on your pretty mouth," Gavin declared.

"Gavin, what if I told you that you couldn't leave the country? Or the house. Or whatever," my anger was rising a little. "You'd just stand there with that unreadable expression on your face, acting like I was insane or something. I didn't volunteer for this, Mr. I'm older so I get to tell you what to do Montegue. Wlodek loaned me out, I assume with Merrill's blessings. It was like they couldn't get me out of the country fast enough. Now explain that to me and then yell at me some more about leaving the country!" Yeah, I was shouting there at the end. Gavin most likely was holding the phone as far from his ear as he possibly could. I realized I was crying too, and reached up to wipe the tears away.

"Lissa, cara, I did not intend to upset you this much," Gavin's voice had gone softer. "Clearly you are more troubled over this theft and kidnapping than I imagined."

"I'll get over it," I sniffled.

"Lissa, do you love me?"

"Honey, you couldn't make me cry if I didn't."

There was silence on the other end so long I thought the call had dropped for a moment. "Cara, if I were there, I would be kissing your tears away."

"Honey, if you were here, I'd be sticking to you like a barnacle." I would, too. I wanted to weep in his arms for some reason and he wasn't here.

"Ma petite ange." I sobbed aloud at that. "Lissa, do not cry, love, you will be home soon. I am waiting for you."

"Okay, honey," I ended the call and attempted to get myself under control.

* * *

"Here are the photos, Director." A file was dropped onto Tony's desk.

"You're sure these are the ones?" Tony glanced up at his spy.

"Yes. Obviously the one on the left is Rahim Alif, the other is the one who calls himself Xenides."

Tony examined the photograph. Rahim Alif was using the first letter of the Arabic alphabet as his last name. Xenides had allied himself with a known terrorist. Both were linked to bombings in Tel Aviv, Madrid and Milan, and now the U.S. The attempts on the President and the Secretary of State were linked to these two. If Lissa hadn't been available to help, the country might now be in crisis. Frazier's experiment with six special ops agents had also gone very well. Tony witnessed the injections and subsequent disappearances himself and Frazier was now desperate to get his hands on more blood and tissue. Tony sighed. If he could just get one of the six operatives anywhere near these two while Frazier still had the supply of Lissa's blood—he stared at the photograph of Rahim Alif and Xenides again.

"Where?" Tony didn't have to elaborate.

"This was taken in Atlanta, two days ago."

"What the fuck are they doing back in Atlanta?" Tony got up and paced angrily.

"We've gone through several scenarios," the spy replied. "Not that any one of them might be determined more likely than the others."

"Do you have hard copy?"

"I do." The spy pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed it over. "But that doesn't explain why they've been tracked in France, Belgium, Germany, Great Britain and now Atlanta. There hasn't been anything bombed in any of those places."

"Yet they've hit Israel, Spain, Italy, Los Angeles and made an attempt here in D.C." Tony flipped the folder open and then closed it again. "I'll take this with me and read it later. There are things I need to take care of now."

"Not a problem, we've got copies at the office. We're still going over it ourselves."

"Let me know if you come up with anything." Tony grabbed his suit coat and headed for the door. The spy followed and they left Tony's office together.

* * *

"Trajan, are you sure you're willing to do this?" Winkler studied the tall werewolf. Trajan was a basketball star in high school, but turned down an athletic scholarship to a Texas college—he was too afraid of being on the road during a full moon and getting caught as wolf. Winkler paid his college tuition instead and now Trajan worked as a sports writer for a Dallas newspaper. If Trajan went down, it would be difficult to explain his disappearance.

"I'm willing," Trajan growled a little. Trajan was handsome, with black hair that curled slightly, dark brown eyes, a well-shaped jaw and mouth—he could have his pick of any number of eligible human females but only dated casually for the most part. He was still young—barely thirty-eight in human years. Too young to settle down as a werewolf.

"Fine. Let's go." Winkler walked out of his study with Trajan; Davis was waiting for them, just outside Winkler's study. Davis fell in behind Winkler as the three werewolves made their way through the side door into the garage. If Trajan died, Winkler and Davis would likely follow him quickly.

Davis held no illusions that Karl Johnson would allow any of them to live. He sighed a little—Lissa was already dead or they'd have heard from her. Tony Hancock was still looking for her—that's what he'd told Winkler, anyway.

The drive to the Wilburn Ranch would take twenty minutes, provided traffic wasn't heavy. Kellee was holed up in her bedroom at the Denton mansion, unwilling to attend the challenge. She and Winkler had such a blowup after the wedding that they no longer looked at one another, let alone considered going to bed together. Weldon and Thomas Williams had already left for the Wilburn Ranch; Randall Wilburn invited the Grand Master and the Sacramento Packmaster to dinner before the challenge, which was scheduled at midnight.

"Is that his car?" Davis examined the rented Cadillac in the Wilburn's driveway. It was bright red with a white interior, as flashy as the one who'd rented it. Davis didn't look forward to making nice with Karl Johnson and his chosen Second. None of them knew who it might be, not even Weldon. It wasn’t required by werewolf law or tradition. Consequently, Karl didn't know who was fighting for Winkler, either.

Randall Wilburn's human wife answered the door and invited Winkler, Trajan and Davis inside her sprawling ranch house. She and Randall had been married for thirty years; Randall was close to one hundred years of age and had lived in the Denton area for fifty of those years. The silver in his hair was dye—his hair was as dark as it had ever been. His wife, Shelly, looked much older and the gray in her hair was authentic.

"I trust you all can behave yourselves during introductions," Randall said, offering Winkler and his two escorts something to drink. Trajan and Davis only accepted water; Winkler took a beer but didn't drink much of it. Two werewolves, introduced as R.J. and P.J. Pitt, werewolf brothers, accompanied Karl Johnson and stood at his side as introductions were made. Winkler didn't blink when he was given their names. He'd heard of the brothers, however. Many in the werewolf community had. Their father was the Cleveland Packmaster and owned a Dojo there, teaching Martial Arts and Kendo. The fuckers intended to slice somebody to death with swords. P.J., eldest of the brothers, had already offered his services to several in the werewolf community, taking down at least six Packmasters. Weldon suspected he'd taken payment to act as temporary Second, but no proof could be provided. And if a challenge was issued outside a full moon, the combatants fought in their human shapes. That's why Winkler had asked for Lissa. Now, Lissa was dead because of that. No matter, Winkler sighed. He was about to follow her, anyway.

"It's after eleven," Randall announced. "I have carts to take us to the site if you want a ride." Many of his ranch employees used golf carts and four wheelers to drive through pastures and check on the brood mares and yearlings.

"I'll get myself there," Winkler growled. Davis and Trajan followed his lead. Winkler wanted to turn to wolf one last time before he died. The others loaded into three golf carts, but Shelly Wilburn refused to go. She had no desire to see anyone die. She'd gone in the beginning and had even watched Winkler take down his father. After that, she'd stayed at home, begging her husband never to make a challenge while she lived. He'd honored her request.

Winkler turned first, followed by Davis and then Trajan. Three large wolves trotted over newly mown grass, following the wake created by the Grand Master's golf cart.

* * *

Tony Hancock had provided Thomas Williams with a button camera, delivered by an agent outside Winkler's mansion. It would supply a video and sound feed directly to Tony's laptop. He was going to watch the challenge, since Winkler was his contact and technical support for the recognition software his department employed. If Winkler went down, Tony would definitely need to know.

Thomas and Weldon watched dispassionately as P.J. Pitt lifted a leather case from the back of a golf cart and then proceeded to pull two very sharp swords from the covering. He checked the edges on both blades before handing them off to his brother. He then removed his shirt and stretched. P.J. was broad across the shoulders; evidence that he'd trained long and hard with the swords he'd brought with him. Muscles rippled as he limbered up. Time was ticking downward and P.J. knew he had the upper hand; neither of the werewolves accompanying Winkler stood a chance against him. He was his father's Second and had fought off three challenges against his father so far, in addition to helping select others take Packs away from legitimate Packmasters. Karl was paying P.J. handsomely to make him Packmaster of the Dallas Pack. Outside a full moon, hand-to-hand combat was permitted, along with any weapon that allowed combatants to face one another. It wasn't unusual for knives, fists and clubs to be employed. The only weapons not allowed were guns.

Weldon was the official timekeeper since he was Grand Master and highest-ranking werewolf present. Weldon checked his watch; it was nearly midnight when Winkler, Davis and Trajan trotted up as wolves. Weldon had extra clothing for all three wolves on his golf cart; Winkler asked him to carry it earlier. Trajan had time to pull on pants; that was all he would wear while fighting. He remained barefoot, however; Trajan had martial arts training, but his hands were all he used. P.J. would have the reach— and the upper hand—with his blades.

"Time," Weldon called softly, checking his watch.

Karl stepped forward first, since he'd laid the initial challenge. "I, Karl Johnson, Packmaster for the Boise Pack, lay a challenge before William Winkler, Packmaster for the Dallas Pack and demand that the Seconds fight," Karl pushed out his chest importantly. He knew the Dallas Pack was his—the challenge was merely a formality. P.J. would have either of Winkler's companions dying in the dirt in minutes.

"I, William Winkler, Packmaster for the Dallas Pack, accept the challenge. Who fights for you?" Winkler stepped forward.

"Patrick James, P.J. Pitt," Karl replied. "Who challenges him?"

Trajan made to step forward when Lissa coalesced in front of Winkler. "I do, you piece of shit," Lissa snapped.

* * *

Winkler had the biggest look of shock on his face. I didn't think I'd ever seen him that surprised before. That was nothing compared to the expression Karl wore. He looked nearly purple with anger. I guess he didn't like the name-calling. P.J., though, I thought he was going to laugh at me. Mighty brave for somebody whose initials spelled what I wore to bed most days.

"State your name," Weldon said. I wasn't up on challenges and werewolf protocol. I just hoped I lived over all of it.

"Lissa Beth Huston," I said. "Of the Sacramento Pack."

"You're a fucking vampire," P.J. declared with a snarl, aiming a very long, pointy sword at me.

"I already know that," I said. "Although my sex life has been nonexistent lately. You may want to amend that statement to just vampire."

"The challenge has been issued and accepted. We await the attack," Weldon said gruffly, silently warning me that this was no time for jokes.

"You're dead," P.J. growled, shaking a sword in my direction.

"Tell me something I don't know," I snipped as P.J. rushed me, twirling both blades like a blender.

* * *

Tony was getting the live feed and recording it at the same time. The wolf would rush Lissa with both blades flying and Lissa would duck or slide out of P.J.'s way, moving so swiftly the camera couldn't record it most of the time. Her claws hadn't come out until three minutes into the fight and she didn't appear to be using them for anything. As far as the wolf knew, she only had speed on her side. Tony found himself wishing he had other cameras placed; he only had the one and although Thomas was keeping the action in front of him, Tony wanted to see Winkler and Weldon's faces. Nobody was cheering either combatant on—only the sounds made by Lissa and P.J. came across.

Tony couldn't imagine what Lissa was doing—did she have any sort of strategy? He couldn't tell and he'd never really seen her fight. He was beginning to get worried when P.J. made a furious pass at her, blades blurring and Lissa, instead of ducking or sliding out of the way, turned to mist, causing P.J. to hesitate. He jerked his head from side to side in frantic wariness, his swords held at the ready, waiting to strike. His enemy, however, had disappeared before his face. The werewolf had never heard of a vampire mister that could change in a blink, but that's exactly what Lissa had done. She rematerialized suddenly before him, dealing a vicious kick to P.J.'s jaw before misting again. Tony was standing and cheering as the werewolf's head snapped back. P.J. rocked on his feet for a second or two, growling as he straightened up again.

"Show yourself!" he shouted. Lissa appeared in front of him. He came after her; she misted again.

"Not fair!" Karl Johnson shouted.

"It's as fair as you were going to be," Weldon barked. Karl backed up a little. Lissa reappeared.

* * *

Things had come to the critical point, as they always do in any fight. If P.J. didn't back away now, I was going to kill him. Everything I'd done up to this point was a warning to him—that I wasn't going to allow him to win this fight. Now, I was going to give him the opportunity to give up peacefully and go home with his brother, who stood on the sidelines, a worried expression on his face.

"I'll let you walk away now," I pointed an extended claw at P.J. "With no hard feelings."

"Lissa," Weldon growled low. Well, there I was, likely breaking werewolf rules and tradition right and left. But I wanted to make myself clear before anybody died.

"You're just playing games with me, because you can't take me down," P.J. insisted, pointing a lengthy blade in my direction.

"You know, I've been known to play games," I admitted. "I'm terrible at chess and checkers. But I'm not playing games, here. I'm fighting with you. And when I fight, I fight to win. Walk away now and keep your life."

"You will not walk away," Karl Johnson hissed at P.J.'s back. P.J. nodded at Karl's words. That's when I knew. P.J. would rather die than go back to his Pack a loser.

"You want to finish this?" I stared—hard—at P.J. Pitt.

"More than anything," he snarled, his fingers flexing on the hilts of his blades.

"All righty, then," I nodded to P.J.

"Lissa, will you please get this over with," Weldon growled.

When Weldon told me to get on with it, I guess it was time to get serious. I went to mist and watched from the side as P.J. did his three-sixty again, gauging it as carefully as I could. I waited a few more seconds this time, moving clockwise to his counter-clockwise. He might be the greatest werewolf swordsman ever, and Karl had more than likely paid him a truckload of money to take down Winkler, Davis and the one called Trajan. I wasn't going to let that happen. I might be pissed at Winkler, but Karl Johnson did his best to kill me, too. I still didn't understand how that hadn't happened. It no longer mattered; P.J. had backed the wrong horse and the only way to keep Winkler alive was to take Karl Johnson's temporary Second down. Too bad the bookies weren't in on this; somebody might have made a ton of money that night. I materialized at P.J.'s back and relieved him of his head with one swift stroke. His death was as swift and painless as I could make it, and he never knew what hit him.

I stood there, panting slightly, staring down at P.J.'s body and head, which were no longer connected. Sometimes I forget that werewolves don't disintegrate like vampires do. Honestly, if Thomas hadn't shouted, I might have been dead too as Karl launched himself at me, determined to take me down. I turned swiftly, slashing out with my claws and slicing his body in half. No, I didn't mean to do it that way; Karl Johnson lay on the grass in two separate pieces, gasping for breath with lungs that had been severed. His lower half lay still and unmoving while the upper half twitched until Karl's eyes rolled back in his head. Thomas rushed to my side, prepared to fight in case P.J.'s brother decided to get in on the action. R.J. was already backing away, tears for his brother falling as he stared in horror at the body lying on the ground.

Karl thought he'd stacked the deck in his favor, only it hadn't turned out that way. Now he lay dead in Randall Wilburn's horse pasture, his eyes wide and staring sightlessly at the stars overhead. I still had no idea what kept Karl's buddy Elias from allowing me to fry in the sun, but the FBI likely had him in custody. Kellee was at Winkler's mansion, thinking that daddy was going to bring her a crown and make her princess of the Dallas Pack. If she'd loved Winkler and he'd loved her, that crown would have been hers anyway. Now she was fatherless and pregnant in enemy territory.

"I'll take care of the bodies," Randall Wilburn offered. Trajan stepped up to help. Winkler, who'd stood back and watched the whole thing, asked Weldon if he and Davis could ride back to the house with him and Thomas.

"I can leave our car here for Trajan. Lissa, will you come back with me now?" Winkler turned to me, begging me with his eyes if not his voice.

"Lissa, I want to talk to you, anyway," Weldon said quietly.

"Fine." I bent down and wiped my bloody claws off on P.J.'s pants; he really didn't need them anymore.

"R.J., do you need a ride?" Weldon turned to P.J.'s brother. Karl should never have allowed him to come, but Karl had been so confident and I figured R.J. wanted to see his brother help take down a Packmaster of Winkler's status.

"I'll take him to the airport," Randall Wilburn offered. R.J. dropped by his brother's decapitated body and sobbed. I felt sorry for him. I might have felt sorrier for Winkler, Davis and myself if things had gone the other way.

Weldon drove one of the golf carts; Winkler drove the other. I rode with Weldon, Thomas and Davis went with Winkler. Shelly Wilburn stood on the back porch of her ranch house and watched as we drove up. She knew, just by seeing who'd come back that Winkler was still Dallas Packmaster and she nodded respectfully to him. We didn't go through the house; we walked through the side yard and out the gate next to the garage. Weldon, Davis and I got the back seat of Winkler's car, Winkler drove and Thomas sat up front with him. I was wedged in the back seat between Davis and Weldon.

The drive to Denton was nearly half over before Weldon spoke. "Lissa, you are Pack."

I'd been lost in my own thoughts, thinking about P.J. and Karl and what Karl had hoped to gain and hadn't. I'd also been wondering how much Kellee loved her father and about Kellee's mother. Well, they weren't my problem. Except that they were, as it turns out. "I know, Grand Master." I didn't use his title often, but felt it was warranted under the circumstances.

"Lissa, when you successfully fought off Karl's Second, you kept the Dallas Pack in Winkler's hands."

"I know, Grand Master."

"Lissa, the challenging Packmaster attacked you afterward without issuing a formal challenge against you. You took him down. Do you know what that means?"

Until then I'd been looking at Weldon's shirt; he hadn't worn his usual flannel—it was too warm this far south for it. Instead, he had a short-sleeved polo shirt on and he looked nice in it. It was yellow and that was a good color for him. Now I looked up at his face. He was gazing down at me and he smiled just a little. "No," I said. "What does that mean?"

"It means you are Packmaster for the Boise Pack."

That shocked me, all right. "Weldon," I said when I got my breath back, "I can't be Packmaster for Boise or any other city. I have to go home in three weeks. There's no way I can do anything from there."

"The option you have is to name your replacement, and that replacement has to agree and be willing to fight off any challenges that come along from members of that Pack."

Weldon's words sank in slowly. I didn't know a soul in Boise. I'd never even been introduced to Kellee's mother and I didn't think she'd be charitable enough to hand over a list of names. I had to think about the werewolves I did know, I guess.

I turned to look at Davis, who sat on my other side. "Davis, would you like the Boise Pack?" Davis' eyebrows rose sharply. Winkler's ears perked up too—I was offering his Second a Pack of his own.

Weldon looked at Davis over my head. I don't know what silent communication passed between them but Davis smiled slowly at me. "Yeah. I think I would," he grinned.

"I accept your decision, Packmaster Huston," Weldon said. "Packmaster Davis, I will inform former Packmaster Johnson's Second, and determine if he will serve you or if you should choose another Second."

"Thank you, Grand Master," Davis inclined his head a little.

"What am I supposed to do?" Winkler whined a little.

"That Trajan guy looks capable," I pointed out.

"Fine," Winkler grumbled.

"Is this how you show your gratitude to Lissa?" Weldon didn't sound happy with Winkler.

We all trooped into Winkler's house through the side door and Kellee, hearing the sounds of someone coming inside, skidded to a halt in her socks on the expensive tile in Winkler's kitchen. Her face went dark the minute she saw Winkler and me and the screech that came from her mouth was most likely heard by dogs in bordering states. "No!" She shouted. "Nononononono!" She was stomping her feet while she made a multitude of no's into one long word. Weldon crossed his arms over his chest and waited out her tirade. There was other news he had to deliver and I had no idea how she was going to take that.

"Kellee, you will sit," Weldon ordered. Kellee called the Grand Master a name. It didn't go over well.

"Sit!" he shouted. Kellee muttered more obscenities and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island.

"What's that bitch doing still alive?" she muttered, giving me a nasty look. That told Weldon part of what he wanted to know—Kellee had known about the attack against me. He wasn't looking charitable, now.

"Kellee, your father's Second was killed fairly tonight, as you've more than likely determined. What you don't know is that your father tried to attack Winkler's temporary Second after his own Second died. Your father is dead, too, Kellee."

A look of fury crossed Kellee's face and she rushed the Grand Master. I'm not sure what Weldon would have done but before she could reach him, I placed compulsion. "Stop!" I yelled. Kellee went to a standstill.

"Sit down," I continued as calmly as I could. Kellee returned to her seat and sat down, her eyes blank. "Weldon, what do you want to do?" I turned to the Grand Master.

Weldon settled his gaze on me. "Since Kellee conspired to kill you, what is the vampire rule concerning that?"

"We're allowed to kill if we're threatened or attacked," I said. "But I don't want to do that. She's carrying Winkler's babies. I can place compulsion, instead." I looked Weldon in the eye.

"Have away," Weldon flung out an arm. I went to stand in front of Kellee.

Winkler stood in the background, waiting to see what I would do. "You will mourn your father as a daughter should," I said. "You will be respectful of Winkler and all the Dallas Pack," I continued. "You will never raise your hand or conspire against me again, or against the Grand Master, or his family, or anyone in the Sacramento Pack. Do you understand?" Kellee nodded obediently. "You will deliver your children and you will leave them with their father and find a life of your own. You will never speak ill of their father in front of your children, Kellee." She nodded again.

"Anything you'd like to add?" I turned to Weldon.

"I think that about covers it," Weldon sighed.

"Good," I sighed myself. "Go to bed, Kellee. You will have to speak with your mother in the morning." Kellee rose stiffly and went off toward her bedroom.

"Christ," Davis cursed. "Why didn't you do that for us before?"

"Because it's unethical," I said. "But she threatened my life and tried to kill me. It's allowable in those cases."

"Lissa, I welcome the former Boise Packmaster back to the Sacramento Pack," Thomas Williams smiled at me. I went to give him a hug.

Chapter 13

My shower was one of the most welcome in my life. Weldon, Thomas and Kipp (Kipp stayed behind while the challenge had taken place) all went to bed while I cleaned up. Weldon was upstairs with me; Thomas and Kipp were downstairs in the same guesthouse. Winkler was sitting on the side of my bed when I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. I only had one extra set of clothing, along with pajamas. I'd had to buy them the evening before since my bag was still inside the stolen van. I hoped it was in the hands of the FBI now.

"Lissa, will you sit down and talk with me for a bit?" Winkler asked.

There was a nice chair in the corner of the bedroom, so I pulled it over to the end of the bed. I didn't want to feel like I was talking to Winkler across a canyon or something. "What's on your mind, Winkler?" I wasn't sure I wanted to have any conversation with Winkler right then—I still had the image of Karl Johnson in my head, his body cut in half and the memory of his eyes losing the light of life as he'd died in front of me. And of R.J., weeping beside his brother's body. I said all that to Winkler, too.

"Lissa, I watched the light die in my father's eyes, as well."

"Winkler," I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. Winkler had scars that would never heal. I guess we both did.

"Baby, you did what you had to do. Just like I did. We are what we are and our races are inherently violent. There's no way around that. Maybe the other female vampires don't have to deal with this sort of thing on a daily basis, but they don't have the talent and the intelligence that you do. Don't let this rule your life, Lissa."

I had vampires, a whole Council of them, a surrogate sire and a fiancé who ruled my life, whether I wanted them to or not. I didn't have much control over anything. If Gavin, Merrill or Wlodek found out just what I'd done tonight, they'd likely do a little more ruling.

"Winkler, the one thing I'm generally thankful for regarding the rejuvenating sleep is that I don't dream. It's impossible, apparently. Otherwise, I'd more than likely have nightmares after tonight." I looked across at him. His face was so familiar; I could close my eyes and describe it to anyone. Tonight, he looked hopeful.

Winkler rose and came to kneel beside my chair. "I think I may have good dreams for the first time in two months," Winkler sighed, lifting my hand and kissing it.

"How is Kellee's mother going to take this?" I asked, turning my head and looking into Winkler's beautiful, dark eyes.

"She was so far under Karl's thumb she didn't own a personality," Winkler snorted. "Davis is packing; Weldon already called Karl's Second and he's waiting to meet Davis to see how they get along. If it doesn't work, Davis will pick his own Second."

"I hope he likes it in Boise and I hope he doesn't get challenged," I said.

"The Wolf sculpture for Glen's grave will be finished in a couple of months," Winkler said, going off subject for a moment.

"I hope I didn't get Davis killed by passing Boise off to him."

"If he hadn't wanted it, he wouldn't have taken it," Winkler shrugged. "He'll be good at it. I've depended on him for a long time. I even came to him when I should have gone to Phil in the past. Lissa?"

"What, Winkler?"

"Do you know how much I owe you?"

"Winkler, I wish you wouldn't worry about that. You're going to be a father. Think about that, okay? I want to see pictures of you and those babies, Winkler. Of them riding on their daddy's shoulders and laughing. Go find them a stepmother someday, Winkler. One that loves them for what they are and not how much money you have or how handsome their daddy is." I reached out and ruffled Winkler's black hair a little.

"What would you have done if I hadn't blackmailed you, Lissa, and forced you to stay when you worked for me?"

"I don't know. I might have stayed if you asked me. There really wasn't any place for me to go, to be honest. But you had me trapped, didn't you?" I turned my face away from him then.

"Trapped and then handed right over to Gavin and the Council," Winkler growled.

"Water under the bridge, Winkler."

"Will you still be my friend?"

"Planning on coming all over my clothes again?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Then I'll be your friend," I said. "And you owe me a leather blazer."

* * *

Winkler's jet flew me straight to D.C.; Weldon was taking a commercial flight back to Grand Forks. Thomas Williams hugged me before I left Dallas and since I still didn't have my bag back it was just me, a few pints of blood in a cooler, my laptop and my cell phone that boarded the jet. Tony picked me up at the airport and drove me straight to Arlington.

"So, you were Packmaster for a whole thirty seconds," he grinned at me as we walked into his home later.

"You know, I'm going to stop worrying about how you know all this shit," I said and stalked past him to get to my bedroom. I'd lost my wig when I'd come out of the body bag in New Mexico and my short hair was a little over an inch in length, now.

"I got this for you," Tony stood in my doorway, a file folder in his hand.

"What's that?"

"Information on the kidnappings in Great Britain."

"Hmmph," I said. "That's old news. They caught the guy."

"Yes, they did," he grinned. "I thought you might like to read it anyway." I took the folder and dropped it on my bed.

* * *

Gavin was spending the day at Wlodek's home since dawn would arrive in half an hour. He sat in his usual seat before Wlodek's replacement desk; this one was also a priceless antique. Gavin had watched silently while Wlodek destroyed the last one in a furious fit of anger.

"We were too focused on following Sebastian and ignoring the human," Wlodek sighed. Charles was sitting in the chair next to Gavin, tapping notes into his laptop.

"Sebastian always preferred to work alone," Gavin nodded. "I imagined that the description of the human was a compulsion that he'd placed to throw us off the scent."

"And it did throw us off," Wlodek agreed. "We concentrated our efforts on Sebastian only, employing our usual investigative techniques. How many humans did you speak with, Gavin, attempting to find information on him?"

"Many, and placed compulsion on more than a few. None had seen him—that they remembered, anyway." Gavin watched Charles's fingers as his words were printed quickly on the laptop's screen.

"And the meetings threw us off, too. We had several newly scheduled meetings during the disappearances. Meetings that Sebastian knew nothing of since we were no longer passing information off to him. I never thought to check the dates of the kidnappings against any of the previously scheduled regular meetings. We weren't thinking, Gavin." Wlodek toyed with his gold pen.

"Lissa was." Gavin growled out the words. "And we had not used many of those caves or abandoned safe houses for centuries—most were no longer habitable and had no electricity. Lissa's questions pointed Charles in that direction. She was solving this from a continent away."

"That is something that I wish to discuss with you before we retire," Wlodek said. "Lissa orchestrated this from the U.S.; that much is certain. Unfortunately, we cannot encourage her in this as she might consider it our permission to leap into something equally as dangerous next time. Sebastian's disappearance was the final and deciding factor in sending her to the U.S. when we did. I know that normally we would issue a commendation from the Council, in appreciation for assistance rendered in a situation such as this. It will be withheld for the reasons I've mentioned."

"And the reward money?"

"You know that a fledgling vampire is never allowed to earn money as an individual during the five years spent with their sire. Merrill is accepting the money and investing it for her."

"She doesn't know she earned it," Gavin pointed out.

"Should we tell her, this might also encourage her," Wlodek said, not meeting Gavin's eyes. Gavin disagreed strongly but didn't refute the Honored One's words. "We sent a portion of the reward to the werewolves involved in this. They are setting up a fund for the families of the murdered children."

"May I speak?" Charles lifted his head.

"Charles," Wlodek inclined his head slightly, acknowledging his assistant.

"If Lissa knew about the money, she'd want all of it sent to that fund," Charles said. Gavin stared at the younger vampire, knowing he was right.

"I know this as well," Wlodek agreed, his nearly black eyes focused on Charles. "Nevertheless, she does not know about the money and will not be informed about the money. Merrill will invest it for her." Wlodek gave Charles a hard look. Charles nodded and went back to his laptop, tapping on keys once more.

* * *

"Have you ever been to a State Dinner?" Tony tossed one of my special agent uniforms across the bed when I woke. He's not impatient or anything. I heard his words before I could even crack an eyelid. "And why can't you wake earlier?"

"If you guys would stop fucking with daylight saving time and just leave it alone," I grumped, unwillingly sliding out of bed.

I didn't even get a shower. Tony chased me around the bedroom, handing clothing out to me while I ate and dressed. Man, when he was on the job, that's all he was. I felt like smacking him on the head with the folder he'd given me—the one I hadn't bothered to open yet.

"Your hair is fine," Tony grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the house. A car was running in the driveway and Agent Bill Jennings was waiting inside the car with the driver.

"Nice to see you, Bill," I said, sliding into the back seat with Tony. Bill was up front in the passenger seat and offered me a handsome smile as I buckled up. The driver left rubber, I think, getting us out of the driveway. Geez, we were in a hurry.

"Lissa, wear this," Bill handed an earpiece, along with a small device of some sort, over the seat. Tony had to show me what to do with all of it. The earpiece went in my ear while the tiny transmitter/receiver was clipped to my lapel. Tony showed me how to adjust the volume and put it on the lowest setting for me. I wouldn't need more than that—he and I both knew it. This was the first time I'd been wired for anything and wondered what I'd be hearing. There was a good chance it wasn't Secret Service jokes.

"We're not giving you the ability to send anything, that requires a third piece," Tony informed me, straightening my jacket a little. "You should have heard the head of the Secret Service squeal when we wanted to do this much." Tony smiled a little. He was dressed in a tux again and looked really good. Dinner with the Prez brought the monkey suits out, I guess.

Bill was dispatched to the State Dining Room; Tony and I went toward the living quarters to pick up the President and the First Lady. They're hosting the President of France, Tony sent to me as I trotted to keep up with him and two Secret Service agents we'd picked up along the way.

Parlez-vous Francais? I returned.

Oui was the only word I understood of the spate of French he rattled off.

Okay. You heard the only French I know, I grumped mentally. Maybe I should invest in language lessons.

You need to learn, was his terse answer as we came to the door of the First Family's living quarters. Two more guards stood outside it. Tony may have been pissed when the President and his wife both said hello and smiled at me, all while ignoring him. Who knew that a sing-along in the back seat of their limo would put us on a near first name basis? I told the First Lady she looked amazing and she did. The President teased and asked if I wasn't obligated to compliment him, too.

"Not with your wife standing right there, sir," I said, and smiled. He laughed. Tony was completely stiff as we walked down the hallway toward the dining room. Now I knew why his boss had sent him on a forced vacation the year before. He was in desperate need of another one, I think.

The minute we entered the dining room, I picked up all kinds of chatter on my earpiece. The President and First Lady went forward to greet the President of France and they talked while Tony sent me toward the door. Stay outside the door and make sure nothing comes in, he commanded. I went to make sure nothing came in the door. Something sure had Tony worried—he was more nervous than a typewriter sitting next to a computer. The dinner went well, I think. The French President, accompanied by the French Ambassador, sat at the President's table and they chatted all evening long. I didn't get to see any of it from my position outside the door. I might have taken a close look at the portrait of Abraham Lincoln over the fireplace if I could have explored a little. Nothing came in while I was on guard and since I was facing outward, I never saw the First Lady get up from her seat to visit the powder room.

Two female Secret Service Agents went with her. There was a powder room through the butler's pantry and if a vampire is mist, they can get in there and hang out for a long time. Nobody will notice them, including the security team doing sweeps. The door to the outside hall past the butler's pantry was locked and guarded but that didn't keep a huge vampire mister who'd come back to corporeality from bursting right through it, carrying the First Lady along like a rag doll. The two female agents had compulsion laid and they were still inside the pantry, blinking stupidly when all hell broke loose inside the dining room. Tony was shouting, both mentally and physically, for me to help. I was running in immediately to find him and a very upset President inside.

Guests were shunted off to the side of the dining room by a handful of agents while others had guns drawn and were running toward the butler's pantry. "Get us out there, Lissa!" Tony shouted, grabbing the President's arm. Was he crazy, asking to take the President with us? I suppose the man didn't want to stay behind so I went to mist, grabbed Tony and the President both and not even bothering with doors, went right through walls until we caught up with the vampire and the First Lady.

Dropping Tony and the President on the floor as gently as I could, I warily watched the vampire, who held the first Lady tightly, shortened claws against her throat. She was scared out of her mind I could tell, but not even a peep came out of her mouth. Two agents rushed forward to protect the President, who was seeing something in the nearly unbelievable realm—a vampire holding his wife hostage.

"I'll trade her, for him," The vampire grinned, fangs showing, and pointed toward the President. Two agents grabbed the President by his arms and dragged him backward.

Don't get any closer to him or he'll place compulsion, I sent to Tony. I'd learned that lesson from a bomber who'd stood in front of Wlodek. The vampire had a square jaw and might have been handsome except for the malevolent sneer on his face. This one held humans in contempt—I could feel the waves of disdain rolling off him. The President was putting out vibes of fear; he truly did love his wife and was terrified she was going to die. As discoveries go, I barely had time to register that I could read strong emotions from humans and from some vampires unless they had them tightly under control. Werewolves? Not so much.

Tony, the President and I, along with various Secret Service agents, stood in the center of Cross Hall. The vampire had the First Lady backed into the entrance hall. What the vampire did next shocked me to my shoes. He sent out mindspeech.

Xenides! He shouted mentally. He didn't bother to direct that mindspeech only to the recipient since it was very likely that nobody else was going to hear it anyway.

Tony, did you get that? I sent in desperation. I'd heard the name Xenides before. Xenides had been Claremont's contact and was more than likely one of Saxom's get.

Get what? Tony had his gun out, as did the other agents, but the situation was much too volatile for them to fire weapons. The First Lady's life hung in the balance.

I know this doesn't mean anything to you, but he's sending out mindspeech for Xenides. I immediately went to mist. Time to deal with the situation before a second vampire showed up. One that was likely bigger, badder and much, much older than this one, who weighed in at a thousand years.

Tuning out Tony's cursing behind me, I floated behind the vampire, who was backing up now and doing a little cursing himself. He'd seen me go to mist. He hadn't been close enough to get my scent before but as far as I knew, no other creature could disappear that way. I was nearly behind him and in a position to remove his head when the second vampire rushed into the room. I thanked whatever or whoever was watching that he wasn't a mister too, otherwise he would have come in that way. It would have been foolish not to. What he did have, however, was mindspeech and he used it now. I cursed my inability to understand any language except English; Xenides was speaking in Greek. At least that's what I thought he was speaking.

It didn't take a genius, though, to discover his intent as Secret Service agents crept closer and closer to him. Only a little more and they'd be in range of his compulsion. He could tell them to shoot themselves or each other or the President. They'd do it, too, without turning a hair. The situation had just reached critical mass. If I killed Xenides, the other vampire would kill the First Lady. If I killed the vamp holding the First Lady, Xenides could get away or worse.

Get everybody away from him! I was doing a little barking of my own and Tony immediately called the agents back from the danger zone. We didn't need them shooting the president. Xenides growled out his displeasure at this turn of events and took a step forward. I suppose the agents knew if they shot him, the First Lady was dead and that's what held them back.

There are times, I know, after reflecting on them later, that you wish you could have forced time to stand still so you could perform two simultaneous acts without time speeding past you, forcing you to choose one over the other. Glen's death had occurred in just such a moment. Now, Xenides was going to escape because I couldn't allow the First Lady to die while her husband watched. I misted behind the first vampire and removed his head with less than a thought. Xenides didn't even realize what happened until I appeared three feet in front of him. The First Lady choked back a sob while the vampire who'd held her dropped in a heap on the floor, his head rolling away and his body turning to ash.

Xenides growled at me, then, and I might have gone after him; after all, my claws were extended and I'm sure my eyes were red and my fangs out as well. He was gone in an instant instead, moving as fast as Merrill could move. Who knows if I'd been able to catch up to him? Tony was shouting my name and that was the only thing that kept me from racing after Xenides.

* * *

The First Lady was sedated and resting in her bedroom while Tony paced and the President toyed with a pack of gum he'd pulled from a desk drawer in the oval office. I was getting to see the room under less than ideal circumstances. "You're sure he was shouting Xenides?" Tony was grilling me. He wasn't happy; I could tell that right away.

"Yes, Tony." I was weariness itself at the moment.

"What do you know about Xenides?" Tony demanded. I stared at Tony, wondering what he knew about Xenides and what I should actually tell him about Xenides.

"Old," I said. I didn't say how old. In the brief scent I'd gotten off Xenides, he was at least a thousand years older than Wlodek. Maybe more. And he had mindspeech. The vampire I'd killed had been similar to me, having misting ability as well as mindspeech. That was frightening. "He can mindspeak," I went on. "Both vampires tonight had the same taint as the others."

The President was listening dispassionately while Tony played twenty questions. The man had nearly lost his wife earlier. I'm sure he was having a hard time separating that from the matters at hand.

"Is that all you know?" The words were snapped in my direction. Tony was being a hard-ass.

Xenides was Saxom's main contact, I think. I'm sure he was his right hand man and is now bent on destruction since his sire was whacked. I sent my reply as mindspeech; I wasn't sure what the President knew or should know about Xenides.

Say that's all you know, Lissa. Tony's mindspeech was now just as weary as mine.

"That's all I know," I said aloud.

"I expect you to keep me informed," the President told Tony as he rose from his chair.

"I will," Tony nodded. We picked up more Secret Service agents on our way out of the Oval Office and the President and his guards went one way, Tony and I went the other. We found Bill and our driver next to a car outside. I climbed in gratefully. It had to be close to four in the morning; I was exhausted and knew I'd need extra blood when we got home.

"What did you intend to do if I hadn't stopped you?" Tony asked as we drove away from the White House.

"Which time?" I was pouting, now. My treatment after saving the First Lady had been less than polite in my opinion.

"When Xenides took off."

"I was going to follow the fucker and kill him if I could." I wasn't in any mood to mince words.

"Christ, Lissa." Tony rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. He didn't say another thing on the drive home.

* * *

"Take a look at these results," Dr. Lawrence Frazier showed Tony two separate experiments simultaneously on two computer monitors. "This one on the left was done using the ash you gave me three days ago. The one on the right is using the last of the fresh blood and tissue we collected. The difference in the two is remarkable."

Tony watched as the special ops soldier on the left took five minutes to turn to invisible mist while the one on the right turned immediately. He knew what Frazier was angling for and he also knew his time with Lissa was winding down quickly. He only had two more weeks. Guilt was still eating at him from the first time. If he allowed Frazier to take blood and tissue again, Tony would have to make sure Lissa was kept in the house; she was too tired and weak afterward.

"Come to the house tomorrow morning at ten," Tony snarled and stalked out of Frazier's office.

* * *

I sent the information over the whole First Lady/Xenides incident to Merrill and Charles. I didn't have Wlodek's personal email account and wasn't likely to get it. I didn't really care whether Tony wanted the information passed over or not; this involved the vampires just as much or more than it involved him. I knew he had knowledge of Xenides that he wasn't giving me and I hinted at that to Merrill. The incident during the State Dinner had been hushed up for the most part, too. The news reported that it was a kitchen employee who went a little crazy and that the whole thing had been handled without injury. The First Lady wasn't even mentioned. As long as you weren't counting the dead vampire, I suppose the no-injury statement was true.

It was now three days since the State Dinner. Tony was working very late most nights and I was left to entertain myself. I finally picked up the folder he'd given me to read the final report on the kidnappings in Great Britain, receiving quite a shock. Tony had handed me the wrong folder—I could see that right away. The information on the top page concerned a terrorist named Rahim Alif. I almost slapped the folder shut so I could hand it back to Tony but another name on the top page caught my eye. It also had me reading the report front to back twice and then borrowing Tony's scanner, hoping like hell he wouldn't come home in the middle of what I was doing. I had all the pages scanned, saved in my computer and emailed to Charles just as quickly as my fingers and the computer could move. Then I put all the pages back in the folder and went to lay it on the kitchen counter.

Tony came in around ten, brushing rain off his trench coat. He looks nice in a trench, but I wasn't about to compliment him. I did offer to make a sandwich for him but he said he'd gotten something earlier during a meeting. "This isn't the folder on the kidnappings," I picked it up and handed it to him. "I looked at the first page, determined it was some secret spy stuff and left it here for you." Tony frowned and took the folder, opening it and then shutting it quickly. "You were right to give this back to me," he mumbled and stalked off toward his bedroom. He came back with another file. "This is yours," he said. I opened it and sure enough, it was mine.

"Thanks," I said, giving him the best smile I could. "Now I have something to read." I took off toward my bedroom. I never said I didn't read the first file. Everything I'd said was true, I'd just chosen my words carefully.

* * *

Charles was using curse words he didn't normally use. Ever. Unplugging the power source to his laptop, he raced up the stairs to Wlodek's study. "Honored One!" Charles almost screeched as he skidding to a halt in front of Wlodek's desk, leaving tracks in Wlodek's antique Persian rug.

"Charles, this is an unwarranted interruption," Wlodek frowned at his assistant. Charles set the laptop on Wlodek's desk and turned it around so Wlodek could look. There was a photograph with a handwritten caption, naming one of the persons in the photograph Xenides, the other Rahim Alif. Wlodek recognized Xenides. Oh, yes. He'd been introduced as someone else when he and Wlodek first met—centuries ago. The other looked to have a Middle Eastern background. Wlodek began to read.

"Charles, where did you get this?" Wlodek looked up from his reading.

"Lissa sent it to me. She said that it was accidentally handed to her instead of the file she was supposed to get. She scanned this so she could send it to us," Charles was excited. He very seldom was allowed to delve into the intrigue as he liked to call it. "Merrill got copied on it too," Charles added.

"Call Merrill and set up a meeting tomorrow evening if he's available," Wlodek said. "And copy me on this email, young Charles."

"Of course." Charles's eyes were dancing, although he acted as dignified as he could. He knew what Xenides looked like, now. That was a coup, indeed.

* * *

"You took too much last time and it hampered her," Tony glared at Frazier as he laid out blood collection supplies. Tony carried Lissa to his bed again; he didn't want her scenting any of this. Bad enough he was doing it and betraying her in the process. He also had no desire for her fiancé to learn of it.

Frazier whined and Tony finally gave in, watching as the blood containers filled up. Frazier packed it all away in his cooler afterward and left. Tony sighed and left the house after placing Lissa in her own bed.

* * *

Thursday, May twentieth came and I woke feeling really tired again. I had no idea what was causing this, determined to ask Merrill about it as soon as I got home. Gavin called and since I wasn't doing anything dangerous at the moment, he was almost pleasant. He merely grumbled instead of shouting.

"How close did you come to that monster, Lissa?"

"Which monster?"

"Xenides." Merrill had spilled the beans, looked like.

"A few feet away, honey. As soon as the other vampire died, he turned tail and shot out of there."

"Lissa, if he had placed compulsion," Gavin didn't finish that thought.

"He didn't, honey." What would Gavin say or do if I told him that compulsion wouldn't do a thing? I had to hide that knowledge. Who knows what the Council would do if they learned they couldn't control me?

"I also heard that you stood in as Winkler's Second to fight off a challenging werewolf." I didn't know who let that cat out of the bag but if I found out, we might have a bit of a tussle.

"Honey, it wasn't a big deal."

"I also heard that you were a Packmaster. At least for a short time." He wasn't happy about that, either.

"About thirty seconds," I said. "I didn't think you'd appreciate the commute I might have to make if I kept it." I was still in my pajamas, huddled against the headboard of the bed as I spoke with Gavin. I felt so tired and honestly wanted to roll over and just go back to sleep. I'd had my meal already, but while I spoke with Gavin, I leaned over the side of the bed, pulled a partial bag of blood out of my cooler and sipped it while we talked.

"Lissa, you always make light of these things," Gavin growled a little.

"Honey, what else am I supposed to do? Be gloomy and dire over all of it? Where's the fun in that?"

"I wouldn't mind seeing your smile, Cara."

"I wouldn't mind seeing yours either, Mr. Cantankerous."

When we hung up, I remembered that he'd bought something for me while on assignment. Well, time was ticking away and I wanted to get something for him too, grumpy schmuck that he was.

Since I wasn't sure that mindspeech would work with Tony wherever he was, I called his cell instead. "What do you want, Lissa?" He sounded even grumpier than Gavin did.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm going out to do a little shopping." There was a mall nearby. I hoped to find something there.

Tony didn't want me to go. I could tell by the sound of his voice and I really didn't feel all that spiffy but I'd made up my mind to go anyway.

"Do you need to borrow a car?" Tony asked when he couldn't convince me to stay where I was.

"No." I'd gotten myself around New York. I could get around here, too.

"Then stay out of trouble." He ended the call abruptly. Tony had a lot of things on his mind. What with terrorists and all—I'd read that file. Something was going down, that's for sure. Xenides and Rahim were behind the attempts on the President and the Secretary of State and arranged the bombings in L.A. and several foreign countries. Somehow, Tony's department had learned of Xenides, probably before the Council did. Neither had shared information, and that wasn't a good thing. I wanted to kick Wlodek and Tony both, I think. What puzzled me (along with Tony and a lot of other agents and operatives) was that none of us could figure out why Xenides and Rahim had been in Atlanta, but it did explain why Tony had dragged me there weeks earlier. Several scenarios had been laid out in the file; certain businesses and officials could be targeted in Georgia but none of them really fit the classic terrorist target. There was even a pharmaceutical company listed in Atlanta, but they mostly made flu vaccines. Didn't make any sense to me.

I dressed and misted through the front door. I still had my credit card and most of my cash with me so I zoomed off toward the mall. The jewelry store inside the mall drew me and I looked at tie bars and money clips. Gavin carried a money clip; I knew that. On the nights we spent together, he'd unload his pockets and the money clip always made the same clunk when he tossed it on the dresser.

"Is it possible to get it engraved tonight?" I asked the sales clerk. She was a nicely dressed woman in her forties that wore a brand of expensive perfume. It was all right—she hadn't bathed in it.

"I think we can do that," she nodded, "as long as it isn't too complicated."

"Just three initials," I said, and pointed to the gold and diamond money clip I wanted. She pulled it out and while it was being engraved, I looked at some fancy letter openers.

"That one is a replica of a Roman sword," the saleswoman indicated one that had caught my interest.

"I want that," I said. She pulled it out and let me look at it first, then boxed it up for me. Merrill was always playing with his letter opener. I'd take this to him. I paid with cash, causing the woman's eyes to widen a little; the total was more than twenty-two hundred dollars.

I bought Greg and Franklin gift cards from the bookstore. They both liked to read and this would allow them to buy online as well. I purchased a computer game for Charles. That wore me out and I had my doubts about making it back to Tony's place, but I did. I had even more blood when I arrived and then went to bed. I slept right past dawn and didn't wake until the evening of the twenty-first. I drank my dinner first thing and then with nothing else to do, I stripped the sheets off my bed to wash. Tony had a small laundry room—mostly I'd used it to wash my jeans, t-shirts and underwear. My special agent outfits had to be dry cleaned. Since I was washing sheets, I decided to pull Tony's off, too. Who knew when he'd washed them last?

The moment I walked into his bedroom, it hit me. I knew who'd been there and what he'd been doing. Tony must have let him in the back door through the garage; I hadn't smelled him in the rest of the house. The man I'd rescued from the pirates had been there and he'd taken my blood. The scent of it was all over the room. I'd been wounded often enough that I knew my own blood when I smelled it. Tony had hauled me into his bed so the other fucker could put his hands on me and take my blood. I thought my head was going to explode, I was so angry. Tony and I were done. He wasn't Winkler—he couldn't blackmail me. I could and would get the hell away from him. I stripped the top covers off his bed and left them lying in a heap on the floor. Then I went to get a bag of blood out of my cooler; one of the partial ones would do nicely. I painted my message to him in blood on his bottom sheet and left it there to dry while I threw my clothing into suitcases and called Merrill.

"Go straight to the airport, Lissa," Merrill said, anger in his voice. Not at me—at Tony. "I'll have a first class ticket to New York waiting. Don't go to the apartment; I don't want Franklin and Greg frightened." He gave me the address of a safe house. I was afraid I'd cry but I managed to get a cab to come to the house without blubbering. The cabbie was nice and loaded my bags in the trunk. I carried the laptop and my purse and we drove to Dulles as quickly as we could.

The flight wasn't scheduled to take off for two hours. In an effort to keep my mind away from the anger and betrayal, I bought a book and a magazine from a small shop in the airport and sat down to read. The magazine had an article about the kidnappings in Great Britain. That's when I got my first look at Paul and the other two werewolves. Their photographs were splashed on a page of the periodical in full color. Paul looked like a nice man. Not that tall—maybe five-ten or so—with medium brown hair and nice eyes. I wished I could talk to him sometime. Maybe have a cup of coffee or tea with him. That opportunity would likely never come.

* * *

Tony went home early; he'd been so short with Lissa lately and now the First Lady was asking to see her. She wanted to thank Lissa for saving her life. The President, too, wanted to do something for her. Tony called her name as he stepped in the front door. He was prepared to take her straight to the White House, jeans and all, so she could meet with the President and his wife.

"Lissy?" Tony didn't find her in the media room where she normally was at night, either reading, watching television or both. She wasn't there. The kitchen was empty, too. He peeked into the laundry room and found Lissa's sheets lying on the floor beside the washer. A horrible thought crossed his mind and he raced toward his bedroom.

What are you doing with my blood, Tony? Was scrawled in blood across his bottom sheet. Tony moaned and pulled out his cell phone. "Just hold her. Don't fight with her and don't hurt her. If you do, I'll have your head," Tony shouted into his cell phone as he drove like a maniac toward the airport.

* * *

"Take your hands off me," I jerked my arm away from the TSA guard who was shoving me inside a small interrogation room. I couldn't refuse to go with him as he and the half dozen other guards insisted. They'd surrounded me where I sat, waiting on my plane.

"Just sit down, someone will be here in a minute," the guard growled. I hadn't hurt him or done anything to deserve that growl. Yet. And three guesses who the someone was going to be. I hoped the room wasn't bugged because I wanted to let Tony have it. At least they hadn't taken my purse or my laptop. I might have fought with them over that or placed compulsion. My flight was called when Tony walked into the room, looking like a thundercloud.

"You're making me miss my flight," I said sullenly, refusing to look at him.

"Lissa, you will sit there and let me explain and then we'll go home," he said.

"Tony, I won't be going anywhere with you. I've already called my sire. He set this ticket up for me. Merrill was very angry and very concerned when I told him what happened. I pulled that fucker out of a boat full of pirates for you, Tony, and this is how you both pay me back. Is this how you reward everybody who saves your ass, or Madame Secretary's ass or the First Lady's derriere?" I swung around to look at him then.

"Lissa, you have to believe me when I say that this wasn't my intention or the reason I brought you in," Tony said, a deep frown on his face. "I just sent the ash from the vampire mister in Los Angeles to Larry and he discovered that some of your particular talents could be duplicated by injecting a compound of the ash into a lab chimp. That was too good to pass up, Lissa, but we didn't have enough of the ash to continue with the experiments. When we took your blood the first time, the results were amazing. It all happened so fast, Lissa. The possibilities are profound and overwhelming. You can't imagine what we could do with this." Tony was pacing.

"I can imagine that you'd drain me dry just to get what you want, Tony. We're done. Don't ask me to help you again. And keep that fucker away from me." The tears started then. "You let him put his hands on me, Tony. While I was unconscious. What kind of man are you, anyway?" I turned away and sobbed. I'd trusted him; he'd been one of the few I had trusted. That no longer held true and the betrayal hurt. Big time.

"Lissa, I did this the wrong way, I know that. Try to see reason, baby. We can help the country, you and I." Tony was pleading but it wasn't going to work. Not with me. Not this time or any other time.

"If I hadn't accidentally found out, how long would you have been helping the country without my knowledge?" I was still wiping tears. I could barely see him, my sight was so blurry.

"Come back home with me please," Tony begged. "We'll work this out, I promise."

"No." I stifled another sob. "Stay away from me, Tony."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. Just as fast as I can get there. And you've made me miss my flight."

"Lissa, come home with me now. You're upset and I understand that. There's no reason for you to walk away. You're scheduled to go home in a few days anyway. We'll talk this over and you can go home then."

"I'm going home now. Get out of my way, Tony." I stood up. "If you try to stop me, Merrill and the others will know. What do you think will happen then, Tony?"

"I have no idea. Come home with me, Lissa."

"Tony, I can't trust you. Ever again. How do you think I'd feel, going to sleep and not knowing what you'd do to me? Or what you'd allow somebody else to do to me? Do you even have a conscience, Tony? Does the fucker who did this have one? God knows he doesn't appreciate what I did for him. Stand there and tell me I shouldn't have just dropped him in the ocean and let him drown."

"Fuck," Tony growled, pacing a little more.

"I'm leaving. I have to see if there's another flight I can get out of here tonight." I brushed past Tony on the way out the door and he stood there, watching me leave.

Chapter 14

I landed at La Guardia two hours after I'd originally been scheduled to land. The airline was able to get me on a later flight and Tony didn't try to stop me. At least not then. I was a little concerned; he had eyes and ears everywhere, I recalled, as I took a cab to the first address Merrill had given me. It wasn't the actual address of the safe house; it was a building nearby where I could pay the cab and then make my way to the safe house after the cab left.

My bags had to be piled one on top of the other so I could lift them and mist to the safe house. It was a bit awkward getting it all there but I did it. My entire flight had been spent wiping my eyes. I'd cared for Tony and he'd done this. I still couldn't believe it. It was one thing to ask my permission, another to violate me while I slept, just to keep it secret.

Merrill got a voice mail message and an email, as did Gavin. They'd both be asleep. Blood was in the fridge so I helped myself to some of it before going to bed. I watched television for a while; the news network was doing an article on the fears of the World Health Organization over a new strain of flu cropping up and that the manufacturers of the flu vaccine might not be able to produce enough to meet the demands of the population as a result. The journalists were interviewing the CEOs of pharmaceutical companies in Scotland and France, along with someone from the company in Georgia. I turned the program off after a while. I was still upset with Tony and the more I thought about the whole thing, the more upset I became. Where had they punctured me? How much had they taken? It was enough to make me to feel weak and tired. Now I knew what had caused my symptoms. They'd taken from me twice and may have been planning other draws before I left. What the fuck had Tony been thinking? He certainly hadn't been thinking about me except as a means to an end. That hurt more than I can say.

* * *

I'd been awake maybe three hours the following evening when I heard the door into my little basement safe house open. Not knowing who it was, I hid myself and waited for the intruder to come down the stairs. I shouldn't have bothered; I'd know those scents anywhere. Merrill and Gavin had both come. Gavin had me in his arms in two blinks and he was murmuring soft words as I had my meltdown. If I'd been coherent, I might have worried that I was choking him; my arms were so tight around his neck while I sobbed. What I remember most through all of that was Gavin telling me, "shhh, cara, shhh."

"Sweetheart, do you know how much he took?" Merrill sat across from Gavin and me later in the small, safe house living area.

"I don't know. I felt weak both times and since I didn't have any other way to explain the weakness, I thought I was coming down with something." That caused Gavin to snort but he didn't say anything.

"How did you discover what he was doing?"

"Merrill, he was carrying me into his bedroom so that other man could take my blood there. That way the scents wouldn't be inside my room," I was back to wiping tears again. Gavin drew me tighter against him. I pulled my knees up and huddled against him as close as I could. "I was going to strip all the sheets off the beds and wash them but the minute I walked inside his bedroom, I smelled the other man and my own blood."

"What is he doing with it? Do you know?" Merrill asked gently.

"Tony called the other man Larry and said that Larry started out compounding the ash from the mister I killed in Los Angeles and injecting it into a lab chimp. I didn't know he was doing that until I found out he was taking my blood, too. I got the idea that they were doing this with humans by the time I figured things out."

Merrill rose and cursed. In quite a few languages, too. He wasn't loud and I hadn't heard him go off like this before. Something was terribly wrong; I could tell by the way he paced angrily in front of Gavin and me. Gavin pulled me into his lap and settled my head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

"Gavin, take her to the bedroom," Merrill ordered after a while. Gavin carried me in, rising in a blur almost.

"Cara, Merrill must make a call," Gavin told me as I heard Merrill's footsteps going up the stairs to the outside. "He will be back soon." I nodded, taking off my shoes. I wanted to crawl into bed and try to shut everything out for a while.

"Come here, love," Gavin gathered me up, kissed my hands first and then kissed me, nuzzling my neck before moving on to other things. He was a gentle lover that night, as well as the best lover I'd ever had, but then I'd only had two in my lifetime. "We will return to London tomorrow evening; Merrill's jet is at the airport," Gavin covered me up later after settling me in his arms. Yes, I felt safe with his arms around me right then. He angled his body over mine just as dawn was breaking, protecting me as much as he could while we slept.

Merrill had a limousine service pick us up and take us to the airport an hour after sunset the following day. It was May twenty-third and my birthday. I didn’t mention it and neither did Gavin or Merrill. Vampires don't celebrate the occasion, I suppose. I merely made a mental note that now I was forty-nine and that was just a drop in the bucket to what Gavin and Merrill were.

If Tony thought he was going to convince me to come back with him or make things right between us before I returned to Great Britain, he should have thought again. His car was waiting when our limo pulled up near the jet. Tony and Agent White both got out of the car as Gavin, Merrill and I arrived. Gavin pulled me against him, his eyes going red when he saw Tony. Merrill allowed Tony to approach until he was ten feet away. He stopped when Merrill informed him that was close enough.

"I want to talk to Lissa," Tony said.

"My child does not wish to speak with you," Merrill said calmly. There was no expression on his face. Sometimes, not often but sometimes, I wish I had that talent too.

"She can't talk for herself?" Tony crossed arms over his chest.

"Gavin." Merrill's voice was soft and deadly.

"Come, cara," Gavin led me forward until we both stood next to Merrill.

"Is there anything you wish to say to this man?" Merrill asked. I looked at Tony, standing there alone, ten feet in front of me. I'd cared for him once. Thought he was fun to be with, once. Now I knew his motives to be self-serving. That sad look in his eyes? I had no idea where that was coming from.

"Go to hell, Tony," I said.

The limo driver and the pilots were loading our bags onto the plane while we had our little standoff. "The President wants you to have this," Tony held out a small case and an envelope.

"Keep it," I said.

"Lissa, it's the Medal of Freedom," Tony said softly.

"Set it on the ground and back away," Merrill said. Tony slowly bent down, set both items on the tarmac and then retreated. Merrill walked forward and picked them up before returning to my side.

"Lissa, I didn't mean to hurt you," Tony said. "I'm sorry."

"That and a buck will get you a pack of gum at 7-11," I said. "I can't trust you. Ever. Leave me alone and keep your apologies to yourself."

"The lady has spoken," Merrill said. "Now I have words for you. Cease your experiments immediately. It is very important that you do as I say. Wlodek will call you in two nights and explain why." Merrill touched my arm gently and nodded toward the jet. Gavin kept me by his side as we walked toward it.

* * *

"Director, I know you're my boss, at least for the time being," vampire agent Ken White told Tony. "But I don't think you know who you were talking to, just then." Ken was driving away from the airport, Tony in the passenger seat.

"Who was I talking to?" Tony turned listlessly to agent White.

"Merrill is a legend among my race," Ken said. "The rumors are that he's the most powerful vampire that exists. The other one that Lissa is engaged to? That's Gavin, the Council's elite Assassin. Wlodek is Head of the Council, as you know. You've managed to piss off three of the most powerful vampires ever. And if you throw Lissa into that mix, because I have to tell you, she can do things I've never seen or heard of before, well, I wouldn't be looking for favors from any of my kind. In fact, depending on how Wlodek reacts and what he says in that phone call you're going to get, he may pull all the vamps out of the Department."

"He can't do that," Tony huffed.

"He can. And if we want to keep on living, we'll do as he says," Ken added. "And since it's Lissa, all she has to do is make a call to the Grand Master and your wolves will be gone, too. You fucked up, boss."

"Yeah. I won't argue with you over that." Tony rubbed a hand over his face.

* * *

"This apartment belongs to a friend," Merrill said as we made our way into the beautiful London flat. It was tastefully decorated and furnished with what I called jewel tones. Reds, greens, dark purples, golds; all muted, of course. The windows had been blacked out somehow; it belonged to a vampire. "We'll go to the Council meeting tomorrow evening from here and then we're to go back to Wlodek's so he can make the call to Anthony Hancock. Wlodek wants you there, Lissa, when he tells Mr. Hancock how much of a mistake he made." I nodded. It was nearly dawn on the twenty-fourth, now. Gavin and Merrill only had one small bag each so the bulk of the luggage was mine. I insisted on carrying my share and we piled it into the huge master bedroom. Merrill was taking the smaller second bedroom. There was a large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, filled with men's designer suits and a scent that I would recognize if I ever smelled it again.

"Are you hungry, cara? I wish to feed you before you sleep if you are," Gavin said, lifting my chin in his fingers. I looked up at his face; he was worried about me.

"Honey, you have the nicest brown eyes," I said. "I've always been partial to brown eyes."

"You like them?" The corners of his mouth lifted just a little.

"Of course I do."

"Your hair is growing out." He ran fingers through my short, spiky hair.

"Maybe I'll put mousse in it and make it all stand up," I said.

"You will frighten Wlodek."

"We can't have that, I guess." Gavin and I shared a unit of blood before we went to bed.

* * *

"Lissa, we have someone we suspect of being Saxom's turn that Trevor brought in at Wlodek's request," Merrill informed me as Brock drove us to the meeting cave the evening of the twenty-fifth. "If you smell the taint on him, I want you to tug on my sleeve, all right?" I nodded at Merrill's request.

"Sebastian will also be there," Merrill said. "For reasons that you have already suspected. I am sorry we did not pay more attention to you earlier, sweetheart." I sat in the back of Merrill's Rolls; Brock had driven it to pick us up and I was wedged in the back seat between Merrill and Gavin. Neither seemed to mind that I was so close against them. I didn't care about Sebastian, now. At least no more children would die at Sebastian's hands.

"What set him off, do you know?" I was curious about that.

"Wlodek thinks it was the baby," Merrill said softly. "For those of us who have never drank such innocent blood, we cannot say for certain, but I have listened to other vampires who were brought before the Council for sentencing on such a crime and they all say the blood is sweet and addicting."

"Dear God," I said, reaching out to grab Gavin's hand.

The Council chamber looked just the same as Merrill led the way into the dim interior. Gavin was right behind me with Brock following him. Both prisoners were already inside the chamber; Sebastian was over to the side, the other prisoner was close by and I got his scent the moment I walked inside the cave. I tugged on Merrill's sleeve as we lined up in our customary spot against the cave wall.

Wlodek turned to look at Merrill as he had the first prisoner brought forward, and I saw Merrill incline his head in the barest of nods. Wlodek turned back to the prisoner and began his questioning. One of the questions involved Xenides.

"Are you familiar with Xenides?" Wlodek asked. This vampire wasn't as old as Wlodek and was compelled to answer his questions without Merrill's assistance.

"Yes. He was my contact when I dealt with Saxom Meletius."

"Has he ever asked you to engage in acts of terrorism?"

"I have placed compulsion at his request. Twice in Pakistan. Once in Afghanistan."

"What compulsions did you place?"

"To carry out attacks or assassinations at Xenides' request," the prisoner replied. This was beginning to frighten me horribly. Wlodek asked a few more questions but there was nothing as consequential as that answer. The vote was taken; Charles was doing his job efficiently, tapping away on his laptop. The guilty verdict was unanimous—how could it be otherwise? Trevor, the Assassin I hadn't seen before, performed the duty of removing the prisoner's head. Sebastian was brought forward then. He looked insane to me, his heavy brow lower than I remembered and a wild look clouding his eyes. Wlodek placed compulsion but Sebastian's answers were rambling. I got the idea that he'd rewritten and forged Wlodek's signature on the final documents delivered to Vilmos, leading him to believe that he had more time. Vilmos turned over documents to Sebastian at that time, requesting a lengthy extension for his human companion until the baby was older. Vilmos planned an attempt to turn his companion after that. Sebastian never delivered those documents to Wlodek. When the Council ordered Vilmos' death, along with that of his female companion, Sebastian had come on them unaware, murdering them and taking the baby. It was too horrible to think about. The judge I'd worked for in Oklahoma had been in juvenile court and we seldom saw acts this violent or heinous. Mostly it was thefts, robberies, drugs and fights. I shivered a little.

When the guilty vote was again unanimous, Wlodek sat for a few seconds. "I am going to depart from tradition here and offer this execution to Lissa," he said, turning his gaze to me as I leaned against the cave wall. Normally I hated executions but this one—I was going to take it. I nodded at Wlodek and stepped away from the wall. I walked behind Sebastian who stood there, facing the Council. He knew, somewhere in his mind, that he was going to die. I wasn't going to drag it out. There might have been a gasp or two in the room when I went to mist in a heartbeat and perhaps a few more gasps when my claws appeared behind Sebastian, slicing through his neck so swiftly they weren't even a blur. I rematerialized behind Sebastian while he was still standing. Slowly he toppled before me, his head remaining on his shoulders until he pitched forward. It rolled away then and the body turned to ash. Wlodek never blinked while this occurred. I returned to my spot between Gavin and Merrill.

* * *

"Lissa, will you turn me to mist sometime?" Charles hurried to catch up with me as we walked out of the cave later.

"You want to be mist?" I asked. "You can do me a favor at the same time. You can tell me if you see or hear anything while I take you flying. Merrill, do you mind if I do this?" I asked.

"No, Lissa. Go ahead and take Charles." I took Charles's hand and turned us both to mist before lifting into the air and flying over the trees in the park-like area around the cave. The moon was nearly full, which gave us a magnificent view of all of it. Someday, perhaps, I would fly free over the English countryside during a full moon, just to see if I could catch up with any werewolves. That might be something to see. I turned around after only a few minutes, landing Charles next to Wlodek, Merrill, Gavin and Brock, who were nearly to the waiting cars.

"Did you see or hear anything?" I asked Charles, who was wide-eyed with wonder.

"Honored One, you should ask her to take you, sometime," Charles was as happy as I'd ever seen him. "That was amazing. We flew over the trees so fast they were almost a blur."

"I'm glad you could see it, I was afraid you wouldn't be able to," I said. "Most of my passengers are frightened out of their wits."

We rode in silence afterward to Wlodek's mansion. Wlodek was going to place the call to Tony upon our arrival. It would be five hours earlier where Tony was; it was nearly three in the morning in London.

Rolfe got a hug when I came through the door. The tall vampire was waiting and held the door open for all of us. Merrill cleared his throat a little so I let Rolfe go and walked along behind Wlodek and Charles. Gavin came up beside me and placed a hand on my neck, rubbing my nape with his thumb. Extra chairs were placed inside Wlodek's study; even so, Gavin pulled me into his lap. Wlodek didn't raise an eyebrow. Charles had his laptop plugged in quickly while Wlodek settled himself behind the desk. Charles came forward, lifted Wlodek's cordless phone from its cradle and dialed the number. Tony answered on the second ring. Charles had the whole thing set up on speaker, although we could hear both sides of the conversation anyway. I assumed it was in case Merrill or anyone else wanted to comment so that Tony could hear.

"Director, this is Wlodek, Head of the Council," Wlodek identified himself.

"Hello, Honored One," Tony replied. At least he knew how to address Wlodek properly.

"It is my understanding that you not only used ash from rogue vampires but blood from our Lissa as well to perform experiments," Wlodek got right to business.

"That is true," Tony admitted. "But the results were highly successful. I can send you any of the records and the digital images, if you wish. I know you will be impressed." Tony was trying to make this come out in his favor by courting Wlodek.

"Young man, we are aware of what vampire blood will do to humans if it is introduced into their bodies in small amounts. Please tell me that these experiments were not performed on humans."

Tony hesitated for a few moments. "Well, we did go forward with a few human subjects," he admitted.

"How many?" Wlodek demanded.

"Six," Tony replied.

"Director, I hope that you are not one of those six. Regardless, you have condemned each of them to death. While the initial results may appear wondrous and promising, the truth is that such a small amount of vampire blood causes a reaction in the human body. The human antibodies see the introduced blood or tissue as a virus or other disease, and marshals the body's defenses. The vampire DNA then fights back. The entire process is extremely harmful to the human, resulting in a very rare blood disease. Are you familiar with Blackfan Diamond Anemia?"

Tony was tapping on his computer; I could hear his fingers hitting the keys. "Holy shit," he said after a bit.

"Normally the human is born with this condition," Wlodek went on, "and sometimes the disease can be dealt with by performing bone marrow transplants or administering treatments of steroids. This will be a particularly virulent strain, however, and there will be no cure. Your humans will be dead within three months. I suggest that you prepare them for this."

"And you know this how?" Tony asked.

"Do you think that we are stupid or without resources of our own?" Wlodek's voice held contempt. "These experiments have already been performed by scientists within our own race. When we saw the results of these experiments, we shut them down swiftly. If you had asked, the information would have been provided to you. Go ahead—test your subjects. The disease will already be present."

This information was whirling in my brain. This was awful. Tony and that other man had used my blood to kill innocent people. If he'd been in front of me right then, I might have slammed him through a wall. And then another thought hit me, which caused me to gasp aloud.

"Oh God, oh God," I moaned, sliding out of Gavin's lap. "Tony, I still think you're scum but you have to listen to me! Are you listening?"

"I'm listening, Lissa."

"This is what Xenides and Rahim are doing, Tony. They've compromised the flu vaccines. They've introduced vampire DNA into the vaccine and since nobody will know right away, they can kill half the world's population with tainted vaccine. That's what they were doing in France, Germany, Belgium, Great Britain and Atlanta. I'll bet there are pharmaceutical companies that manufacture the vaccine in all those places. This is terrible!" I was gasping for breath.

Tony was shouting and cursing, suddenly. "I have to go!" he yelled and the line went dead.

The End

* * *

The Blood Destiny series continues with Blood Domination, coming soon to an e-reader near you.

About the Author:

Connie Suttle lives in Oklahoma with her patient, long-suffering husband and three cats (the cats are not long-suffering and are certainly not patient). Connie adores fantasy of all kinds and loves vampires, werewolves and most other things one might bump into in the night. When she isn't reading, she's writing (except when the cats are hungry). For information on forthcoming titles, please visit her website at www.subtledemon.com, her blog at subtledemon.blogspot.com or subtledemon on twitter or Subtle Demon on Facebook.

Table of Contents

- BLOOD SENSE

- Also by Connie Suttle

- Copyright © 2009 by Connie Suttle

- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14