(Hungry for You) By Sands, Lynsay (Author) Mass market paperback on 30-Nov-2010
Author: Lynsay Sands
Date: 2010-11-29 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Paranormal Romance; Romance; Paranormal; Vampires; Fantasy; Adult; Urban Fantasy; Fiction; Contemporary; Humor
Description: This vampire has been alone for far too long . . . As one of the most ancient in the Argeneau clan, Cale Valens has given up on finding a life mate. His friends and family, however, have not. In fact, they believe they've finally found his perfect match. Getting them together, however, requires one little white lie . . . Alexandra Willan is in a panic. Her restaurant is due to open in two weeks, but her chef just walked out. Then a highly recommended replacement arrives, an impossibly handsome culinary genius who sends electric tingles racing through her body . . . Except he can't cook. In fac
Publisher: Avon Books
Rights: HarperCollins

Contents

Accidental Vampire

Argeneau Family Tree

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Vampires Are Forever

Argeneau Family Tree

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

An Excerpt from Hungry For You

Cover

Title Page

One

Copyright

About the Author

Praise for the incomparable

Other Books by Lynsay Sands

Copyright - The Accidental Vampire

Copyright - Vampires Are Forever

About the Publisher

Accidental Vampire

Lynsay Sands

The Accidental Vampire

An Argeneau Novel

For Mike, Karen, and Owen,
for letting me turn Day into Knight

Argeneau Family Tree

One

It was a high-pitched scream that woke Elvi. Piercing and full of terror, it ripped her from sleep and had her moving before she was quite awake. She started up abruptly only to curse and drop back down when her head slammed into the wooden lid of the coffin.

Groaning at the pain vibrating through her skull, Elvi closed her eyes against the stars dancing before them and pressed a hand against her forehead. She’d really cracked herself good and would have liked to clasp her head in both hands and roll around in agony for a moment, but the casket wouldn’t allow it.

And then a second terrified shriek reminded her of why she was awake.

She reached out with the hand not holding her head and gave the coffin lid a shove that sent it flying open. She then had to release her head to get up. Climbing out of a coffin was a two-handed job, and ridiculously strenuous first thing in the morning. Especially before her first bag of blood.

Elvi cursed her way out of the contraption, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor as she hurried out of her room without even bothering to grab a robe to cover the white cotton nightgown she wore. Another scream cut the air as she raced up the hall. A fourth was being issued just as she burst into Mabel’s room. Elvi slammed the door open, uncaring that it crashed into the wall and probably left a lovely hole.

She spotted Mabel at once, standing on the bed in her robe, backed against the wall, silver hair a chaotic mass around her head and eyes wide with panic. The woman was waving a body brush wildly in the air at a bat that was swooping just as wildly around the room near the ceiling. She was also, apparently, screeching every time the winged animal came anywhere near her. Elvi watched as the bat swerved to avoid hitting the far wall and swooped back toward Mabel, setting off another shriek.

Veering to the side to avoid the waving shower brush, the bat swept through the open bathroom door and briefly out of sight. Elvi rushed over and slammed the door closed, trapping it inside.

“Oh!” Mabel collapsed on the bed, hugging the shower brush to her chest. “Oh, thank God.”

Elvi propped her hands on her hips and scowled at her housemate. “You opened your windows last night.”

Mabel sighed at the accusation in her voice. “I had to open the windows. It was hot, Elvi.”

“I know it was hot, Mabel. I live here too.”

“But your windows have screens on them. The ones in your bedroom, at least.”

“I sleep in a coffin,” she pointed out in dry tones. “There are no windows in a coffin. Trust me, I know it was hot. But you can’t open your windows until the replacement screens are in.”

“Well, when the hell are they going to put them in already?” Mabel asked impatiently. “It’s been two weeks now.”

“They had to be specially made and shipped from the manufacturer,” Elvi reminded her.

“Yes, because every damned window in this place is a different size,” Mabel muttered.

Elvi’s mouth quirked with amusement at her disgust. “Welcome to the world of Victorian houses. Ain’t it great?”

“Ha!” Mabel snarled, and then sat up with alarm when Elvi moved toward the door to the hall. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“Back to my coffin.”

“But what about the bat?” she asked with dismay, scrambling off the bed as quickly as her sixty-two-year-old body would allow and hurrying after her.

“What about it?” she asked, continuing up the hall.

“Well, aren’t you going to get it out of my bathroom?”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Elvi asked with disbelief. “I’m not going near that thing. Call Animal Control.”

“Animal Control? They won’t be open now.”

“They must have someone on call for emergencies. Call and find out,” Elvi said firmly over her shoulder.

“But that could take hours,” Mabel protested. “Can’t you just get it out? I mean, you should have some sort of affinity with it.”

Elvi paused at the door to her own room and turned on her in amazement. “Do I look like a flying rat to you?”

“No, of course not,” Mabel said quickly, then added, “but you’re a vampire and it’s a bat…There should be some empathy or understanding or…something. Maybe if you tried you could talk to it.”

“Right, and by that reasoning we should all be able to talk to monkeys. Let’s try that the next time we’re near a zoo,” Elvi snorted, then repeated, “call Animal Control.”

“Elvi!” Mabel cried and stomped her foot when Elvi turned to continue on into her room. “I can’t take a shower with that thing in there.”

“Mabel, there are six bathrooms in this house with showers and tubs. Use one of the others.”

“But—”

Elvi closed the door on her further protest and moved toward the coffin, but paused when her eye caught the time on the digital clock on her dresser. Whipping back around, she yanked her door open and scowled at Mabel’s retreating back. “It’s nine o’clock!”

“So?” Mabel sounded miffed and kept walking.

“So why didn’t you wake me up at eight o’clock like I asked?”

“Because you haven’t been sleeping well, and you’re exhausted, and I decided to let you sleep in…rather kindly in my opinion, but then I’m a kind considerate person…unlike some people who won’t even try to talk to a bat for a dear faithful friend.”

Elvi scowled over the attempt to put her on a guilt trip, and then ground out, “Mabel, it’s Owen’s birthday today. I have to make a cake and see to the decorations, and—”

Heaving out a long-suffering sigh, Mabel paused and turned to face her. “I saw to the decorating earlier and then came home for a shower for the festivities. I was going to wake you after I’d showered. As for the cake…” She shrugged. “They’ll wait. The party can’t start without you.”

When Elvi just stood glaring at her, Mabel waved her away. “Go on. Go take your shower. I’ll get dressed and then come help you get ready since I can’t shower.”

“Call Animal Control,” Elvi growled, refusing to feel guilty, then slammed her door shut.

“I just can’t believe it. An immortal advertising in the Wanted Items ads in the Toronto Star! Unbelievable.”

Victor threw DJ a glance tinged with irritation. If the younger immortal hadn’t been driving the BMW they were both in, he would have cuffed him in the head. As it was, all he could do was mutter in response, “I gathered that the first time you said it, DJ…which was two hours and over a hundred repeats ago. I get it. Stop saying it.”

“Sorry, but…” DJ Benoit shook his head, sending his shoulder-length, sandy-colored hair flying as he repeated, “I just can’t believe it.”

Rolling his eyes, Victor turned to peer out the tinted car window at the passing night. They were speeding down the highway on the last leg of a two-and-a-half-hour journey, flying past the bright lights of vehicle after vehicle, leaving them behind with little concern for getting a ticket. Victor didn’t protest or criticize. Time obviously still held the younger man in its thrall, making him impatient and eager to get the journey over with. Given more time, DJ would realize there was no need to rush; time was not an adversary to be beaten by their kind.

“I mean, in the Wanted Items ads,” DJ said, drawing his attention again. “Like a male vampire was a bike you could buy or something. What was she hoping to gain from it?”

“Presumably, a lifemate,” Victor said dryly.

“You can’t find a lifemate like that,” DJ protested at once, then added uncertainly, “can you?”

Victor shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah, but…Surely she must have realized she’d draw the ire of the council. Advertising for God’s sake! That’s a major faux pas. We’re not supposed to draw attention to our people.”

“Hmm,” Victor grunted. “Our best hope is that any mortals who saw it will think it’s a joke or that the ad was purchased by some unfortunate soul with a twisted mind.”

“A whackjob,” DJ muttered, and then nodded firmly. “That’s probably what she is too. She has to be. I mean, come on. None of our kind would be this stupid.”

Victor refrained from pointing out that the man had believed it just moments ago and spent the last two hours bemoaning the fact that one of their kind had advertised in the newspaper. He simply let him change his tune as he liked. For himself, Victor’s mind wasn’t made up. He was content to wait until he met the woman.

“What do you think?”

“About what?” Victor asked.

“Is she for real?” DJ asked, apparently still on the fence about what they were dealing with here.

“How would I know?” he asked with irritation. “I don’t know a thing about her. You’re the one who answered the ad and has been sending letters to her for the last three weeks.”

“E-mails,” DJ corrected. “We really have to drag you into the twenty-first century, Argeneau. If you’d had a computer and knew how to use it, you could have done the e-mailing rather than have me do it.”

“Which is precisely why I don’t intend to get one,” Victor announced pointedly. “So, as you are the one who corresponded with her, you tell me. What do you think? Are we on a wild goose chase? Will we find a wannabe Goth baby playing at being a vamp?”

DJ frowned as he considered the matter. “I’m not sure. We exchanged a dozen or so e-mails, but I didn’t really learn a thing about the woman. She was irritatingly evasive about everything.” He scowled at the road and then added, “In fact, her e-mails were mostly full of questions. She seemed most concerned with verifying that you truly are what you claim to be.”

“About you and what you claimed to be,” Victor corrected, thinking it a verbal slip. “I haven’t even read the e-mails.”

“No, but I was answering them in your name, so used your e-mail account and gave her answers about you.”

“What?” Victor turned on him sharply. “I don’t have an e-mail account.”

“You do now,” DJ informed him. “OneHotArgeneau@hotmail.com.”

Before Vincent could blast him, DJ hurried on saying, “Well, you did say to answer the ad and try to get her interest so we could find out more about her.” He shrugged. “I figured we had a better chance to get her interest if you were the one answering. You’re more interesting than me.”

“How do you figure that?” he asked with amazement.

“You’re rich,” DJ answered promptly. “And the brother of the most powerful immortal on this continent, not to mention a member of one of the oldest families. Chicks go in for that sort of thing. Money, power…It doesn’t hurt that you’re good-looking either.”

“She could hardly have any idea what I look like,” Victor pointed out with a scowl.

“I e-mailed her a picture,” DJ announced. When Victor turned on him, he said defensively, “Well, she asked for one. So, I sent her the only one I had. The one of you and Lucian at Lissianna’s wedding. Of course,” he added, casting Victor’s shoulder-length dark hair and black jeans and T-shirt a glance. “Your hair was much shorter then and you were in a suit. You don’t look much like that now.”

Victor glowered, and then forced himself to relax back in the passenger seat. “And what did you receive in return for this picture and information about my bloodlines?”

DJ made a face. “Not as much as I’d hoped. A brief synopsis of her life and a photo.”

Removing one hand from the steering wheel, he reached blindly into the backseat and picked up a file he’d set there when they got in the car. He handed it to Victor. “It’s in there on one of the e-mails.”

Victor opened the file. A photocopy of the newspaper ad was on top.

Wanted: Male vampire for attractive and self-supporting female vampire. Seeking companionship and a possible love connection. Must be willing to relocate. Only real vampires need apply.

Shaking his head, he continued to leaf through the papers as DJ recounted what he’d learned.

“She’s a widow, and part owner with a friend in a Mexican restaurant as well as a bed-and-breakfast. I can’t remember the friend’s name. Both businesses are in Port Henry. She’s lived there her whole life.”

Victor grunted at this rundown as he found the picture. It showed a beautiful woman with long dark hair, large dark eyes and full red lips. The name on the back said Elvi.

Victor slid the photo back in the file after the briefest look. She was a beautiful woman, but beauty rarely affected him. He’d seen much of it over his lifetime, enough that it no longer impressed him. It was his experience that beauty was the best way to distract one from, and/or hide, an unbearable ugliness. The devil surely wouldn’t show up to tempt covered in warts and slime.

“So?” DJ queried when Victor set the file back on the backseat. “What do you think?”

“I think I can’t tell anything from a picture and that little bit of information you managed to get,” Victor said, then spotted the sign for the exit they wanted, and added, “but we’ll find out soon enough.”

DJ made a tsk of disgust. “This is probably all a huge waste of time. She didn’t seem impressed by the name Argeneau. If she was one of us, she’d have been impressed.”

Victor shrugged. “We aren’t the only old, powerful family. Maybe she comes from one herself so isn’t impressed. Or maybe she’s just moved over from Europe. The Argeneau name doesn’t carry as much weight over there as it did before we moved. There are a lot of old, powerful families there. Whatever the case, she still has to be checked out.”

“Right,” DJ said on an exhalation, and then cheered up and added,” On the bright side, if she turns out to be a whacko wannabe, we can get in the car and head straight back to Toronto. We’d be back home by midnight, easy.”

Victor smiled faintly, but didn’t comment as he watched the rural road they’d exited onto slowly morph into an urban area with first farmhouses and barns appearing out of the darkness, then houses. These quickly gave way to businesses; a gas station, the requisite doughnut shop, secondhand stores, and banks.

“We’re meeting her at her restaurant?” Victor asked glancing over the signs on the storefronts they were passing.

“Yes. Bella Black’s,” DJ said. “It’s supposed to be on Main Street. She said it was on the left, halfway between the second and third set of lights.”

“This is the second set of lights,” Victor pointed out as they stopped at the red light. They both glanced along the road, reading the signs.

“Bella Black’s,” DJ said aloud even as Victor spotted the building in question. Port Henry was obviously one of the older towns in Ontario. Most of the storefronts on the street were Victorian in design. Bella Black’s was no exception, but the sign was large and colorful and the large front window had a painted mural of a sleek green iguana amidst a bower of flowers.

Victor contemplated the odd choice of design, and then turned his gaze back to the road as a car reversed into the very last available parking spot. A couple got out and crossed to the restaurant.

The light changed then and DJ eased their own car forward, passing Bella Black’s as the couple reached the entrance and pulled the door open. They were treated to a brief view of light and color and milling people, then the door closed behind the couple, leaving the street silent once more.

“Busy,” DJ commented. “It looks like every car parked on this road could belong to just the clients of the restaurant.”

“Hmm,” Victor grunted. “Turn here.”

They found a spot on the side street and Victor quickly got out. He took the opportunity to stretch his arms and legs, relieved to be out of the car. Somewhat claustrophobic, he’d always felt trapped inside closed vehicles. Victor actually preferred motorcycles, but this was business not pleasure and needs must.

“So,” DJ commented as he joined Victor on the sidewalk. “I guess it doesn’t matter that you don’t much look like your photo anymore. She’ll no doubt know you by the very fact that she doesn’t know you.”

Victor scowled with confusion. “What the hell are you on about?”

DJ shrugged. “Well, there are…what? five hundred people in this town? She probably knows everyone who lives here. We’ll stand out like sore thumbs.”

“Right,” Victor snapped, moving a little more quickly as he approached the door. He just wanted to get this over with and find out if the woman was an immortal or not. If she wasn’t, they could leave and head home. However, if she was…

Victor’s mouth tightened.

If Elvi Black was an immortal, he had to find out all he could about her and take her back to the council for judgment. As DJ had said, drawing attention to herself with this ad was considered a major faux pas. He had to find out what other faux pas she was committing. Judging by the fact that there were also certain rumors circulating around the Toronto club scene that a female vampire was living in one of the small southern towns, advertising wasn’t her only mistake.

DJ opened the restaurant door and Victor paused as a rush of heat and sound rolled over them, coming through the opening on a wave of delectable scents. The glimpse they’d had earlier of the restaurant really hadn’t told the whole tale; the place wasn’t just busy, it was packed. People filled every chair and stool and nearly as many were standing around the open bar at the front of the restaurant…and every single one of these people went silent and turned to peer their way as they entered, including the mariachi band that had been strolling between the crowded tables.

“Have you ever been to Mexico?”

Victor answered DJ’s hushed question with a shake of the head.

“Neither have I,” DJ admitted. “But I think I might like it.”

Victor’s mouth twisted dubiously at this claim as he ignored the rudely staring people and slid his gaze over the colorful décor of the restaurant. The walls were a pale cream broken by splash after splash of color, a blue and gold sombrero hanging on the wall, a huge bright green statue of an iguana and its young on a shelf, a string of clay pots filled with sunflowers as well as several color prints, most of them by Diego Rivera. And on top of all that there were colorful streamers, balloons, and a huge Happy Birthday banner.

Even without the celebratory décor, it was too much color and excitement for Victor. He preferred soothing blues and cool whites. This was…loud and almost blinding to his senses.

“Can I help you, boys?”

Victor glanced down at the man who had approached. Five foot eleven or there about, the man was a good six inches shorter than Victor himself, and three or four inches shorter than DJ. He carried himself with the authority that his badge and uniform afforded him, obviously the local police. Possibly the only one, Victor guessed. It was a small town after all.

“Well?” The officer demanded, his voice and expression going hard in response to Victor’s silent examination.

“No,” he answered simply and started to move past him, pausing abruptly when he found his arm caught in a firm grip.

“This is a private party,” the officer said grimly, and Victor understood why their entrance had drawn attention.

“I was invited,” Victor announced. The answer seemed to echo in the room, making him realize just how quiet the restaurant had become now that the talking and music had stopped. Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted as the officer studied him more closely.

“Victor Argeneau?” he finally asked, his voice uncertain.

Victor nodded, wondering how the man knew his name. He had a brief horrible memory of a T-shirt his computer geek nephew Etienne had favored for a while. It had been plain white with the words “I’m the teenage nympho you’ve been talking to on-line” or something of that ilk. For one moment he feared this was Elvi Black, but then the man smiled faintly and said, “You don’t look much like that picture Mabel showed me. Your hair was shorter and you were wearing a suit and tie.”

Victor had no idea who Mabel was and didn’t care, but the picture in question was the one DJ had said he’d e-mailed to Elvi Black.

“And you brought a friend,” the officer went on, his gaze turning to DJ with an appraising quality. If Victor looked scruffy compared to his photo, DJ just plain looked scruffy. He had developed something of an allergy to shaving about a year earlier and now resembled a young grizzly Adams. He too wore jeans and a T-shirt, but his jeans were blue and his T-shirt bore the name Alexander Keith’s and a logo for the popular brand of beer. DJ wasn’t much into fashion.

“He drove me,” Victor said as explanation, and was immediately annoyed that he offered one.

“Don’t you have a car, son?” the officer asked suspiciously.

Victor’s mouth tightened. It was always seen as a bit less respectable not to have a car in Canada.

“I have several. I don’t like to drive cars,” Victor answered shortly and then asked, “Where is Elvi?”

“She isn’t here yet. I’m supposed to keep you company for a bit.”

When Victor raised an eyebrow in question, the man shook his head and held out his hand. “I’m forgetting my manners. Teddy Brunswick, police captain of Port Henry, at your service.”

Victor accepted the hand and shook it, his attention on the wide grin now on Captain Teddy Brunswick’s face. The expression made him look like the sheriff from an old black-and-white series he used to watch. It made him wonder if there wasn’t some goofy, geeky idiot deputy running around somewhere. Victor was a big television buff and had no problem imagining a grinning idiot Don Knotts–type following this more intelligent, mellow man around. He managed to refrain from asking.

“Captain Brunswick.” Victor gave a nod, then, since the man already knew his name, simply turned to gesture to his younger companion and said, “DJ.”

“DJ what?” the officer asked bluntly.

The question made the younger immortal smile. “DJ Benoit. Gonna run me through the system and see if anything pops up?”

“Yes,” Officer Brunswick said unapologetically.

DJ actually laughed, then glanced to Victor and announced, “I like him.”

“He just insulted you,” Victor pointed out with amusement. The lad often made him smile, which was a rarity. Little made him smile these last three centuries, but he found working with DJ similar to working with an overexuberant puppy. Victor actually enjoyed him for a partner more than the many morose men he’d worked with before, and was growing rather attached to the lad. Still, the day the boy peed on someone’s carpet, he’d be asking for a new partner.

“You shouldn’t really be insulted,” Captain Brunswick told DJ. “I’ve already checked out Argeneau and the names of the others coming here looking to date our Elvi.”

Victor decided then that Captain Brunswick was a man who needed his memory wiped. So would this Mabel by the sounds of it. And then what he’d said registered and Victor frowned. “The others coming here?” he echoed, scowling at DJ. “There are others coming?”

DJ shrugged, silently saying he knew nothing about it. It was Brunswick who answered. Smiling with amusement, he asked, “You didn’t think you were the only one to answer the ad, did you?” Before Victor could respond, he added, “There are six men coming tonight. You’re the first to arrive.”

Victor wasn’t pleased at this news, but was more concerned with the displeasure now on Brunswick’s face.

“I hope they all don’t bring friends or the house is going to be crowded,” the officer commented, and then shook his head and said, “Come, I’ve kept you standing here long enough. I’ll show you to your table.”

When Officer Brunswick turned to lead the way through the crowded restaurant, DJ started to follow, but Victor caught his arm to hold him back and asked, “What does he mean by ‘the house will be crowded’?”

“I told you Elvi invited us down for the week,” DJ reminded him.

“Yes,” he acknowledged impatiently. “But I expected we’d be staying at a hotel, not someone’s house.”

“It’s a bed-and-breakfast. Casey Cottage. Elvi owns it,” DJ murmured. “It’ll be fine.”

“Are you boys coming or has the thought of competition scared you off?”

Victor stiffened. Captain Brunswick had paused at an empty booth halfway up the right-hand side of the restaurant, one Victor was sure hadn’t been empty when they entered. No one had left the restaurant, however, so he supposed whoever had been seated there when they’d entered, had now joined the crowd milling around the bar at the front of the restaurant.

“This job is looking more and more interesting by the minute,” DJ commented under his breath as they moved forward to join Brunswick.

Victor’s only response was a grunt. To him, the situation seemed to be growing more complicated by the minute, and more troublesome.

“Here we are.” Captain Brunswick stood blocking the far side of the booth, obviously expecting them to squeeze into the nearer side together.

Victor immediately stepped aside and gestured DJ in. Claustrophobic as he found cars, there was no way he was going to be trapped on the inside of a booth.

Making a face, DJ slipped quickly along the seat, scrunching himself up in the corner. Victor settled next to him, ignoring the way the younger immortal proceeded to mutter and shift about with discomfort. The booth was really far too small for two grown men to sit side by side; especially two grown men well over six feet tall and half as wide. They were both built like warriors of old, which was handy when it came to hunting. Size intimidated and any advantage was useful.

“Mabel will join us as soon as she and Elvi arrive,” Brunswick commented as the conversations in the room began again. The mariachi band was apparently taking a break, but the patrons were at least no longer silent, though they were still staring and Victor suspected the conversations being held around the room were mostly about him and DJ.

Victor ignored the glances cast their way and nodded in response to Brunswick’s comment, but still had no idea who Mabel was and still didn’t care. His only interest in Port Henry was to meet this Elvi so he could sort out if she truly was one of them or they could get in the car and head home.

Victor used to enjoy his work. However, he’d found himself growing weary of late. He was, in effect, a hunter tired of the hunt. Rather useless he supposed. On the other hand, Victor acknowledged to himself, he had no special desire to be at home either. He didn’t seem to be satisfied or at peace anywhere anymore, but then he never really had been since his wife, Marion’s, death. He also found himself tired a lot of the time, his dissatisfaction increasing. It was something he tried not to think about too often. He may be bored and weary with life right now, but had no wish to go rogue as many other of his kind had gone at this stage.

“Mabel!” DJ said suddenly, apparently just placing the name. “She’s Elvi’s friend and the co-owner of the restaurant, and the bed-and-breakfast. Right?”

Brunswick nodded. “Her best friend. If Mabel doesn’t like you, you can forget about Elvi. Those two have been thick as thieves since they were kids. She’s—”

He paused abruptly when the room suddenly quieted again. Leaning sideways, Brunswick peered toward the front door and then got abruptly to his feet. “Another one’s arrived. Excuse me.”

Two

Elvi was blow-drying her hair when Mabel knocked at the door and shouted something. Frowning, she turned off the hair dryer and called, “What?”

“Are you almost ready?” the woman said impatiently.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.” Elvi quickly began to wrap the cord around the dryer, her gaze sliding longingly over the tub as she did. She’d taken a shower but would have preferred a bath. Elvi loved her tub. It was a large, spa tub with water jets. She’d spared no expense in purchasing it, figuring she deserved it. After all, she’d had to give up her lovely, king-sized bed for a coffin; a luxurious bath seemed only fair.

At the time, Mabel hadn’t been at all sure if she should be bathing or showering. After all, there was never any mention of Dracula ever bathing. However, after a lifetime of good hygiene, Elvi refused to go without, dead or not. If her skin began to slough off when wet, then so be it. At least it would be clean dead skin.

Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. Elvi had been showering and bathing for five years without any unusual repercussions that she could see. Thank God.

“We’re running late,” Mabel called out.

Rolling her eyes, Elvi set the hair dryer in the cupboard, crossed to the door, and opened it.

“Of course we’re running late. You let me sleep in,” she pointed out testily, stepping into the bedroom with just a large bath sheet wrapped around her.

“That’s gratitude for you,” Mabel muttered, shoving a glass of blood into her hand. “Drink this and then get dressed. I laid out the new dress on your bed.”

Elvi raised her eyebrows as she gulped down half the cold, thick liquid, then lowered the glass to point out “I don’t have a bed, Mabel. I have a coffin. I only wish I had a bed.”

Making a face, Mabel took away the half-empty glass and gave her a push to get her moving. “Dress.”

Elvi moved toward the casket in the center of her large, nearly empty room, her shoulders slumping miserably. God, she missed her bed. A king-sized, deluxe model, she and Harry had picked it out together shortly before his death. It had been like sleeping on a cloud. Now she slept in a crate.

Elvi scowled at the dark, walnut casket as she paused beside it.

Catching her expression Mabel said, “Maybe Brendan can do something with your coffin to make it more comfortable.”

Her scowl deepened. She’d already put a bedcover in it. Anything else would make it so she didn’t fit, or nearly, and she found it claustrophobic enough without making the interior smaller.

“I doubt there’s anything he could do,” she said, not wanting Mabel to bother the local funeral home director. The man had already gone to great trouble, layering the bottom with dirt from both Mexico and her garden, and then installing a special liner so that the smell and dirt didn’t seep through the satin. She didn’t want to trouble him further. Elvi hated to be a bother.

She pulled on the dress Mabel had set out, tugged it into place, then peered down at herself and grimaced. It was new, but very much like all her other work dresses. Long, black, and sleek, it had a low neckline and was form-fitting all the way down to her knees where a slit started, allowing some movement. It would restrict every step she took and flash a good deal of lower leg as well.

This was another of her pet peeves. The wardrobe of the undead. It just didn’t suit her style at all.

“I wish I didn’t have to wear these stupid dresses,” she muttered, reaching back to do up the zipper.

“Everyone gets a kick out of them.” Mabel brushed her hands aside to take over the task. “It’s what they expect.”

“Hmm,” Elvi murmured. “Would they ever be disappointed to see me running around here in jogging pants and T-shirts.”

“You can’t do that this week,” Mabel told her firmly. “We have a full house of guests.”

“Do we?” she asked with surprise. After that fateful trip that had ended Elvi’s life, she and Mabel had gone into business together, starting a Mexican restaurant they’d called Bella Black’s. The name had been Mabel’s idea. It had also been Mabel’s idea to sell the house she’d once shared with her deceased husband and move in with Elvi, who lived just three very short blocks from the restaurant. It had made things much easier for both of them. Still, with just the two of them, the house had echoed with emptiness and soon Mabel was suggesting they turn the old Victorian mansion into a bed-and-breakfast as a second income in case the restaurant floundered and failed.

Not that such an event was likely. Bella’s was busy every night of the week, thanks to Elvi’s status as a sort of town mascot. Still, Elvi had spent the better part of her marriage as a housewife. She enjoyed cooking and looking after others. She might not be able to eat anymore, but Elvi could still cook and did so every chance she got. She loved to touch and smell the food she could no longer consume, and watching others enjoy her efforts was as close as she could get to enjoying them herself. So, they’d renovated the old, Victorian manor, finishing the attic and putting in three bedrooms with en suite bathrooms there, and then named it Casey Cottage after Elvi’s daughter.

The only trouble was that most of the guests were locals who stayed at the bed-and-breakfast simply to be able to say they’d slept in the home of a vampire. They had certain expectations as to what a vampire should look like and how they should behave, thanks to shows such as Elvira, Mistress of the Dark and so on, so she was forced to wear these ridiculous outfits at the restaurant as well as when they had guests at the bed-and-breakfast. Which was most of the time. The Mistress of the Dark had a lot to answer for, in Elvi’s mind. Including the fact that everyone now called her Elvi rather than Ellen, the name she’d been born with, or even Ellie, which was what most of her friends had called her before she died.

“Here, don’t forget your bells.”

Elvi grimaced as she took the anklet laced with bells. They’d been a gift from Mabel right after her turning. She’d claimed she thought they were charming, but Elvi knew the truth was they kept her from sneaking up on the other woman and startling her. Mabel had never admitted it, but Elvi knew she had been somewhat frightened of her after her death. If not for their long friendship and her loyalty, Elvi might have been lost. So she’d worn the silly bells home and continued to wear them as they both adjusted to the changes in her life.

Besides, it was all supposed to fit her image as a sultry vampire. Elvi didn’t feel sultry in the getup, she just felt ridiculous. But she donned the item without protest. The townspeople were the only reason she’d survived this cataclysmic change, and their patronage at her restaurant gave her the ability to make a living. If they wished to see her in black gowns and bells, then that’s what they’d get.

“Ready?” Mabel asked once Elvi straightened.

“I have to put up my hair,” she said.

“Leave it down tonight,” Mabel suggested.

“But—”

“It looks better down.”

Sighing, Elvi ran her fingers through her hair, wishing she could look in a mirror and be sure it wasn’t all wild. But everyone knew vampires didn’t have a reflection, although she still had directly after her death. Thinking it must be something that happened gradually and not wishing to see this last proof of the loss of her humanity, Elvi had removed the mirrors from her bedroom and bathroom. Understanding, as always, Mabel had then removed the mirrors in the rest of the house, leaving only the one in her own, and in the guest bathrooms and bedrooms. Elvi had to depend entirely on others to be assured she looked all right.

“Do I need makeup?” she asked.

“You never need makeup,” Mabel said dryly. “But put on some of that wine-colored lipstick. It looks good on you.”

Elvi moved into the bathroom to do so, sliding the tube along her lips from practice in the absence of a mirror.

“Perfect,” Mabel pronounced when she returned to the bedroom. “Come on.”

Elvi was silent on the way to the restaurant, her gaze taking in Mabel’s pale face and shadowed eyes with concern. The woman had claimed she’d let Elvi sleep in because she’d seemed weary, but Mabel had been looking pale and weary as well lately. The woman was sixty-two years old and should have been easing her workload. Instead, between the restaurant, the bed-and-breakfast, and the daytime chores she did that Elvi couldn’t do, she had more to do now than ever before. It worried her.

Mabel wasn’t just her friend she was a lifeline. Without her, Elvi was sure she wouldn’t have survived what happened to her and constantly fretted over what she’d do when age finally claimed the other woman, an issue that was constantly on her mind lately. They’d already lost both their husbands and several friends to death’s grasp. How many more years could Mabel evade the reaper? Elvi was hoping for at least twenty, but that was if they were lucky. If they weren’t, she may have much less. The thought depressed her.

“Here we are,” Mabel said cheerfully as she parked.

Elvi unbuckled her seat belt and slid out of the car to follow her to the back door of the restaurant, her gaze moving briefly upward. The sky overhead was star studded and clear, without a cloud in sight, and she thought that it must have been just as clear a day, with the sun baking down and warming everything.

The sun was something else Elvi missed terribly. She’d always been a summer person, enjoying the sun and the flowers, trees and grass it encouraged to grow. Now she could only enjoy those flowers and trees by the solar lights that lined her garden. If asked, she couldn’t have honestly answered which she missed more, food or sunlight.

Her gaze shot forward as Mabel opened the door and a wave of noise poured over them. It sounded like the diners were right there in the kitchen rather than off in the front of the restaurant. Elvi had never heard it so loud.

Frowning, she slipped past Mabel and crossed the kitchen to step into the small hall between the front and back of the restaurant. She peered with amazement through the beads, stunned at the number of people crammed into the dining room beyond.

“Dear God, this must be some kind of fire hazard,” she muttered.

“That’s what the fire chief said when I showed his family to their table,” Mabel said with amusement. “He warned me the next time we think we’ll have such a large turnout, we have to put tables on the sidewalk or something.

Elvi nodded absently, not surprised Mike Knight hadn’t insisted they shut down now. The party was in honor of his son. Mike was the head of the small fire department for the town and the sort of man always happy to lend a hand to friends and neighbors. He was a popular fellow, as was his charming wife, Karen. Their son, Owen, took after them. The number of teenagers present along with the adults attested to that. It looked to Elvi as if nearly half the town was there.

“I know the upper floor isn’t done, but maybe we should open it up to make it a little less crowded,” Elvi murmured, ignoring the hunger that was rising inside her as her gaze slid over the mass of humanity. Crowded as the dining area and bar was, the air conditioner couldn’t keep up with the heat generated. It was hot, people were sweating, and their scent was a wave rolling over her and making her teeth ache. That half-glass of blood hadn’t been enough. She should have finished it off, she realized with worry.

“I already did.” Mabel leaned closer to gesture up to the balcony running around the upper floor where nearly as many people were milling about.

Elvi stared at them, but her senses were completely attuned to Mabel and she found herself inhaling slowly and savoring the scent. Mabel was a type-II diabetic, her blood always just that tad sweeter than others despite the medication she took, and sweeter blood was yummy blood as Elvi had learned the few times she’d fed from her friend when she’d first turned and had no other recourse. She allowed herself to enjoy the aroma until she felt her teeth shift, then moved quickly away from Mabel with a moan.

“You’re hungry.” Mabel eyed her with concern. After five years, she recognized the signs. “I should have let you finish the glass of blood I brought you. Should I get you another glass now to tide you over until the cake is ready?”

Elvi considered it, but shook her head. She found biting others somewhat distressing, it made her feel like an animal, but the hungrier she was, the less distressing it was. She could wait and said so.

Mabel nodded, but her gaze moved to the workers in the kitchen, Pedro and Rosita, who did the cooking, and the waitstaff who were bustling back and forth and in and out of the room.

Clapping her hands to get their attention, Mabel said, “Anyone who isn’t needed in here, stay out. I want only Elvi, myself, and of course Pedro and Rosita in here.” She smiled briefly at the Mexican couple who did the cooking, then added, “I’ll put the finished orders on the table in the hall as they come up and you can place the new orders there for me to collect.”

Elvi felt herself relax as the waitstaff emptied out and sent a grateful smile Mabel’s way. It wasn’t the first time she’d ordered everyone but Pedro out of the kitchen. It was a precaution she took on those rare occasions when Elvi was hungry. The gesture was appreciated.

“I’d better get moving on that cake,” Elvi murmured, stepping away from the beads and turning to head back into the kitchen. “Maybe I should make two tonight. I don’t think one will do for that crowd.”

“I was going to suggest it myself,” Mabel admitted.

Nodding, Elvi set to work.

“Who is it?” DJ rose up in the booth, craning his head around in an effort to see who had entered the restaurant. He wasn’t having any success.

“No one we know,” Victor assured him. On the outside of the booth, he merely had to lean to the side to see the tall, thin young man standing by the restaurant entrance.

The boy was glowering at the crowd now eyeing him as curiously as they’d eyed Victor and DJ moments ago. He couldn’t have been more than twenty by Victor’s guess and was dressed in the Goth fashion with baggy black pants, a billowing black shirt, and studs around his neck and wrists. His hair was long and pure black, obviously dyed. He was also unnaturally pale.

Makeup, Victor thought, noting the black lips and piercings everywhere.

“Is he one of us?” DJ asked as he gave up trying to see and sank back in the booth.

“A wannabe,” Victor grunted. Dismissing the youth Brunswick was talking to, he settled back in his own seat. “A Goth costume, makeup and a bad attitude.”

“Not surprised,” DJ murmured. When Victor raised an eyebrow, he added, “Well, none of our kind is likely to answer a newspaper ad for singles.”

“Hmm,” Victor murmured noncommittally. It was his opinion that one never knew what others might do. He’d seen stranger things in his life.

“If she really is one of us, she’ll spot him for a wannabe right away,” DJ said with unconcern. “Of course, she—”

Victor glanced at DJ curiously when the man cut himself off abruptly. Spotting the startled look on his face, he asked, “What is it?”

“I think that iguana just moved,” DJ said with a frown.

Following his gaze, Victor peered at the bright green statue of the family of iguanas. Closer now, he could see that it was actually two adult iguanas with two smaller ones riding on their backs. All of them were stiff and still and Victor shook his head at the other man’s moment of whimsy. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a statue.”

“No, I’m sure I saw—”

“You can sit here with these two men.”

Victor glanced up to see that Brunswick apparently hadn’t picked up on the fact the boy wasn’t for real and had ushered him to the booth.

“Vlad, this is Victor Argeneau and DJ Benoit,” the officer introduced as the younger man slid into the booth. “Gentlemen, this is Vladimir Drake.”

“Vladimir Drake?” DJ echoed with a wince, and Victor knew exactly what he was thinking. Being a wannabe was bad enough, but some things just showed poor taste.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” the kid asked defensively, then challenged, “Besides, what kind of name is DJ for a vampire?”

“It’s short for Dieudonne Jules,” DJ said mildly. “It’s usually easier for people to use DJ.”

“Dieudonne? As in ‘God-given’?” Vlad sneered, obviously knowledgeable of some French, but then this was Canada. “And Benoit is short for Benedictine, isn’t it? That means blessed.” His mouth twisted. “A vampire with the names ‘given by God’ and ‘blessed’? Yeah right.”

DJ glanced to Victor and commented, “I’d think he was a name aficionado and smarter than he looks, but I read his mind.”

Victor smiled faintly. He too had read the boy’s mind and discovered that while Vlad knew the translation for Dieudonne from years of French in school, and his real name was Benedict. He had looked it up years ago and found the meaning as well as read the diminutives, including Benoit. He’d made everyone call him that for weeks afterward until some other trend had caught his eye.

“Yeah, sure you’ve read my mind,” Vlad said with obvious disbelief. “I bet you two aren’t even real vampires.”

Victor ignored the challenge, his eyes sliding to Brunswick who still stood to the side of the booth, watching this interaction with interest.

“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” DJ said mildly.

“Show my what?” Vlad asked with a laugh. “You want to see my dick? You’re not vampires, you’re gay!”

Victor reached out to place a hand on DJ’s arm as he sensed him stiffening, and then turned slowly to face the boy. He stared at him long and hard until the boy began to squirm on the opposite bench seat, then Victor opened his mouth and let his teeth slide out. He let them stay there briefly, long and sharp and pearly white, then slowly retracted them and closed his mouth.

“Holy shit!” Vlad gasped. He’d gone pale beneath the makeup and was now trembling in his seat. Apparently, for all his posturing, he hadn’t been at all prepared to meet a real vampire this night. By Victor’s estimation, the boy was seconds away from relieving himself right there in his pants.

“Run along home, little boy,” he growled, losing patience. “This is the big league and you’re missing more than the balls needed to play here.”

Vlad hesitated for barely a heartbeat, then scrambled out of the booth and hurried toward the exit at nothing short of a run. Victor leaned out to watch him. The minute the wannabe reached the door, he slipped into his thoughts and made him pause while he wiped his mind, replacing his true memories with more mundane ones of a disappointing meeting with an overweight, old wannabe named Elvi.

Satisfied that Vlad wouldn’t be running around Toronto screaming about vampires loose in the streets of Port Henry, he mentally urged him out the door and sat back in his seat.

“At least there’s one less bed to find,” Brunswick commented as he watched the door close behind Vlad. Then he slid into the opposite seat and peered curiously at Victor, “Could you really read his mind?”

Victor raised an eyebrow at the question. If Elvi was truly one of their kind she should have the skill as well, and Brunswick, who claimed to be her friend, should know it. Then again, it could make mortals uncomfortable to know they could be read and controlled. Such knowledge might put a strain on a friendship and she might have kept it to herself.

Before he could decide whether it would cause problems or not to admit he could, another lull hit the conversations in the room and Brunswick glanced toward the door. “Another one. We’ll talk later.”

Victor watched him slip out of the booth and then leaned to the side again to get a look at the latest arrival. He cursed on spotting the tall, fair-haired man who’d just entered and was now surveying the restaurant.

“Who is it?” DJ shifted in the booth, half raising from his seat again to see, despite it not having worked last time.

“Harpernus Stoyan,” Victor answered, his gaze locked on the tall, blond German dressed in cords and a casual shirt.

“Harper?” DJ asked with surprise. “Here? How did he—?”

“The same way we did, I imagine,” Victor muttered, settling back in his seat when Brunswick began to lead the man to their table.

“You think he actually answered the ad?” The younger man sounded so amazed that Victor had to roll his eyes. This was another sign of DJ’s youth…if not in age, then at least in thinking. He himself had long ago learned that once an immortal reached a certain stage, there was little he wouldn’t do to find his lifemate. Victor himself wasn’t far from that stage. Unfortunately, he’d already found, loved, and lost his lifemate, and didn’t hold out much hope that there was another out there for him.

“This is—” Brunswick began as he reached the table. It was as far as he got since Harper had spotted the occupants and recognized them at once.

“Victor! DJ!” he exclaimed. His surprise quickly turned to chagrin and he shook his head. “Fancy meeting the two of you here. It looks like I’ll have some competition.”

Brunswick’s eyebrows rose. “The three of you know each other?”

“We’re old friends,” Victor admitted as he slid out of the booth to shake hands with Harper.

“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Brunswick admitted, then glanced past them toward the door and sighed once more. “Number four of six.”

Harper and Victor turned to peer at the latest arrival, both of them scowling when they saw who it was.

“Edward Kenric,” DJ muttered, spotting the man as he too got to his feet beside the booth. Unlike the rest of them, Edward had apparently thought a Mexican restaurant meant black tie. He was dressed to impress in a tux, his light hair slicked back from his patrician features.

Brunswick’s eyebrows rose at the distaste in DJ’s voice. “I take it this is someone else you know?”

“Oh, yes, we know him,” DJ admitted, then added under his breath, “the pompous prick.”

Brunswick smiled faintly, but merely asked, “Is he one of you?”

Victor almost said no in hopes the police captain would invite the other immortal to leave. It would be one less complication in this case. However, just as he opened his mouth to answer, he thought to check Brunswick’s thoughts first and found that he’d nearly made a very large mistake. The officer had already guessed from their reactions that Edward was one of them; the question wasn’t to see if he was, but to see if Victor would answer honestly or take advantage and try to eliminate what Brunswick thought was competition for the hand of the unknown Elvi.

“Yes, he’s one of us,” Victor answered and then pointed out, “the booth is starting to get a bit crowded. Maybe you should sit him somewhere else.”

“Preferably far away,” Harper concurred.

“Seating him in the parking lot would be good,” DJ suggested.

“The parking lot is full at the moment,” Brunswick said with amusement. “I think I’ll just sit him here with the three of you. After that we’ll have to maybe move to a table, though. That is, if the others are for real as well.”

Before anyone could comment, he turned and headed off to greet Edward.

“You should have lied and said Edward wasn’t one of us,” DJ muttered as they watched Brunswick go. “Now we’re going to be stuck with the bastard.”

“No, he shouldn’t have.” Harper settled himself on the far bench seat of the booth as Victor and DJ returned to their side. “It was a test. Brunswick had already guessed Edward is one of us. If Victor had said he wasn’t, he would have been the one to go,” Harper announced, proving he too had read the man’s thoughts. He then glanced toward the door, his eyebrows rising. “Isn’t that…what’s his name?” Harper frowned. “Damn…Alessandro something.”

“Cipriano,” Victor muttered, having leaned to the side to see that yet another immortal had entered the restaurant and now joined the conversation between Edward and Brunswick. Like the rest of them, Alessandro had dressed more casually for this meeting. While he wore a billowing white shirt, it was tucked into tight blue jeans.

“Cipriano’s all right,” DJ commented. “Only one more to go, then. Maybe once he’s here, we can finally meet this Elvi.”

“There are six of us altogether, then?” Harper asked with interest.

“Five. I’m just Victor’s driver on this trip,” DJ corrected, then added, “although there was a sixth, but he was just a wannabe and skedaddled pretty quick when Victor showed his fangs.”

Harper chuckled, and then something at the door caught his attention again.

“The last has arrived,” he announced, eyes narrowing. “He’s not one of us, but there’s something…” He paused, frowning, and then said, “There’s something wrong. He’s difficult to read, his thoughts are chaotic.”

Victor leaned out to peer at the final man. The fellow looked normal enough with brown hair, average looks, and wearing a corduroy jacket over a casual top and dress pants, but when Victor slipped into his mind, he found a miasma of rage and disconnected thoughts. His name was Jason Lerner and Victor had just managed to find his way to Lerner’s true intentions in being there when Harper said, “He’s quite mad. He’s here to stake Elvi, not see if she is his lifemate.”

“That was his intention,” Victor murmured, sifting through the thoughts swirling in the man’s head. “But Brunswick has just introduced Edward and Alessandro as immortals and he’s thinking they’ll do for a target.”

“Shit,” DJ muttered, rising up in his seat, desperate to see now.

“I don’t think Edward or Alessandro have bothered to try to read him,” Harper murmured. “Can you control the man, Victor? I can’t, but you’re older, maybe—”

Harper’s voice died as Victor suddenly leapt to his feet and started for the door.

Three

The mortal, Jason Lerner, had just slipped his hand into the inside breast pocket of his jacket when Victor reached the small group and caught him by the wrist.

“Say!” Brunswick protested. “Argeneau, what—?” His question broke off when Victor forced the man’s arm sideways, bringing his hand and the stake it held out from beneath the jacket.

“He’s not the sort of suitor your Elvi was hoping for. He’s a vampire hunter.” Victor removed the stake from the man’s hand, slid it into his own back pocket, and then glanced to Harper and DJ as they joined them. “We’ll take him outside and deal with him.”

“Now, just a minute,” Brunswick protested. “I’m the law here. I’ll—”

“What can you do?” Victor interrupted politely. He could have just slipped into the officer’s mind and taken control, but with the entire restaurant watching and listening, persuasion was the better option here.

“I can arrest him,” Brunswick answered promptly.

“On what charge? I stopped him before he attacked anyone,” Victor pointed out. “And, as far as I know, stakes aren’t considered concealed weapons, so you can’t charge him with carrying one.”

Brunswick frowned. “No, but I can arrest him for being a public nuisance.”

“And he shall be back on the streets by morning and hunting your Elvi.”

Brunswick’s mouth tightened, but he asked, “What can you do?”

“We can wipe his mind.”

The officer shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the idea. “You won’t hurt him?”

“It won’t hurt at all. He’ll simply forget all about Elvi and this town and vampires,” Victor assured him, though, strictly speaking, it wasn’t true. Lerner’s madness meant they would have to use the three-on-one procedure and there would undoubtedly be damage to his brain. But having been inside his mind, Victor had no problem with that.

Elvi wasn’t the first target of Lerner’s madness. This mortal had killed women for various imagined reasons. He was a sick individual who had somehow slipped through the cracks and been left to kill various women in his wanderings across the country. If the procedure left him in a fugue state with half his mind destroyed, all women would be safer for it.

“Well, all right,” Brunswick said at last. “But just you.”

Victor shook his head. “I’ll need two of the men. It takes three.”

“Alessandro and I will assist you,” Edward announced, and then added, “I presume one of us was to be the recipient of the stake he was reaching for? That being the case, it seems only right that we assist in handling the man.”

Victor nodded reluctantly and turned the mortal to make him exit the restaurant. Lerner had been docile ever since he’d touched his wrist. Victor was able to control his mind and behavior somewhat so long as he was touching him. He continued to be unresisting as they led him outside.

They dealt with Lerner quickly. Edward, Alessandro, and Victor circled him, each touching his arm or face as they invaded his thoughts and wiped them from his mind. Once finished, the man was unconscious. They moved him, leaning Lerner against the building next door, then Victor took out his cell phone and flipped it open to press a quick-dial number. Edward and Alessandro waited patiently as he called Argeneau Enterprises, explained the situation, and arranged to have the man picked up.

“Do we wait here for them to collect him?” Alessandro asked as Victor flipped his phone closed.

Shaking his head, he pocketed the phone. “He isn’t going anywhere and they shouldn’t be long. Come on.”

He led them back inside.

“All taken care of?” DJ asked as the trio reentered the restaurant. The other men still stood by the door.

Victor nodded and asked, “Do we meet Elvi now?”

“Soon,” Brunswick said, and then glanced around. “We’ll need a bigger table now that you’re all here. I’ll see what I can arrange.”

“And so there are four of us,” Harper said as the officer slipped away.

“You mean five,” Alessandro corrected.

“DJ is only here because he drove me,” Victor explained.

“Ah.” Alessandro nodded, and it was Edward who said, “That’s still more competition than I expected.”

“No competition at all, really,” DJ pointed out. “She can’t be the lifemate for all of you.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Harper corrected, and when the other immortals turned to him with surprise, he said, “I had a friend back in Germany in Victorian times. He and his cousin met a woman neither of them could read. She could have been a lifemate to either of them.”

DJ’s eyebrows drew together. “What happened?”

“They both courted her. She chose his cousin.” He glanced away briefly before admitting, “My friend was sure he would never meet another who would suit him so well. Unable to bare the thought of watching his cousin enjoy the happiness he might have had, he destroyed himself.”

Silence fell in the group as they absorbed this news and then Brunswick returned.

“I’ve arranged to switch tables with Jenny Harper and her friends. Follow me, boys.” Brunswick didn’t wait for agreement, but turned and headed off.

“I have never quite gotten used to being called ‘boy’ by men who look older, but are really far younger than myself,” Harper commented.

Victor merely smiled as he started forward.

“Sit down,” Brunswick instructed once they’d reached the table.

“Actually,” Harper murmured as the rest of the men sat, “I think I’d like to go thank Ms. Harper and her friends for giving up the table for us. If you’ll excuse me.”

Without waiting for Brunswick’s permission, Harper moved away, slipping through the tables to the booth they’d been at earlier.

Brunswick frowned after him, but then turned back to the table and said, “I need to go in the back and see if Mabel and Elvi have arrived. I shouldn’t be long.”

He started to turn away, but paused, eyes narrowing at something by the entrance. Victor turned to glance that way, eyebrows rising at the sight of an agitated, gray-haired man in the vestments of a priest rushing toward the officer.

“Teddy Brunswick!” The man was flushed and obviously agitated. “Louise Ascot just told me that you’ve actually brought half a dozen soulless vampires to Port Henry! What are you thinking?”

“Now, Father,” Brunswick caught the priest by the shoulders and turned him back the way he’d come. “There’s no call getting all upset over this. Everything’s fine.”

“Fine?” the man exclaimed, drawing to a halt and turning on him with disbelief. “There is nothing fine about this, Theodore Brunswick. Elvi’s one thing, she’s a good God-fearing woman even if she doesn’t have a soul anymore, but bringing in six more of these beasts?”

“Father, this is neither the time nor the place,” Brunswick said firmly, urging him to continue walking. “If you want to talk to me about this, drop by my office in the morning. This is Owen’s birthday celebration and I won’t have you ruining it for him.”

“Owen?” The man looked startled. “Oh, please tell me he isn’t going to let Elvi bite him? What if he turns into one too? I won’t lose another soul of one of my parishioners. There was nothing we could do about Elvi, but Owen’s just a boy. He’s…”

Victor watched with eyes that were silver ice chips as Brunswick finally urged the man out of the restaurant. There was nothing he hated more than the clergy. It was the church that had condoned his wife’s being burnt at the stake. If he could have he would have slaughtered the whole lot of them at the time. But his brother Lucian wouldn’t let him. Three hundred years later, Victor’s gut still burned at the sight of clergy…any clergy. He hated them all.

“Sorry about that,” Brunswick murmured, pausing at the table on his way back. “Father O’Flaherty is excitable, but harmless,” he assured them, then nodded and turned away. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushed off to the back of the restaurant, disappearing through a beaded arch on the right side of the back wall. It presumably led to the kitchens. He’d barely gone when Harper returned and claimed his seat.

“Well,” DJ said with feigned good cheer, “maybe now we’ll finally get to see this Elvi.”

“Thank God,” Edward said in bored tones. “Then I can read the woman and leave. I hate small towns.”

“If you’re so sure she won’t be your lifemate, why not just leave now?” Victor suggested, and received a scathing look for his trouble.

“I’m not a fool, Argeneau. I’ll wait and read her just to be sure rather than waste this long, dull journey.”

Victor shrugged with disinterest. The man annoyed him, but hopefully, he wouldn’t have to put up with him for long if he couldn’t read Elvi.

“Speaking of fools,” Edward murmured, spearing Victor with a gaze. “You don’t expect us to believe that you are here looking for a lifemate?”

Victor was aware of the way DJ stiffened beside him, as well as the fact that the other men were now peering at him with new interest. Alessandro’s eyebrows were raised in question. Harper’s expression, however, held a tinge of concern. He, as well as the other men, knew Victor was one of the enforcers for the council and was no doubt now considering that if he wasn’t there to find a lifemate, he must be there on council business.

“Well, Argeneau?” Edward prompted.

Victor turned an irritated glance toward him, but Brunswick’s return prevented his putting the immortal in his place for daring to question him.

“How are we doing here?” Brunswick asked as he settled at the table, then without waiting for an answer, said, “The girls are here and Mabel will be out in just a minute.”

“Who is Mabel?” Alessandro asked with confusion. “I am here to meet the Elvi, not Mabel.”

“Yes, yes,” Brunswick said quickly. “But Mabel is the one in charge of this whole week.”

“I thought Elvi was the one in charge.” Harper was frowning. “She arranged things with me; the e-mails, the invitation, the directions…”

“Si. Me also,” Alessandro agreed.

“And I.” Edward’s eyes narrowed on the police captain. It seemed obvious to Victor he was reading his mind and—judging by his expression—was vaguely surprised by what he was learning. Before Victor could slip into the mortal’s thoughts, the beads hanging in the door between the restaurant and kitchen jangled, bringing about another abrupt pause to the noise in the room.

Brunswick glanced over his shoulder, and said, “Oh. There she is. I’ll be right back.” The man was immediately on his feet and rushing away.

“There is who?” Alessandro asked the table at large. “The Mabel or the Elvi?”

“That woman is not an immortal. If she’s Elvi, we can get back in the car and head home now,” DJ said, but his eyes slid over the woman with something akin to interest as Captain Brunswick led her to their table.

She was in her early sixties by Victor’s guess. A tall, trim woman with gray-blond hair and a face with few lines and attractive features that still carried a great deal of the beauty she must have been when younger.

“Mabel, this is Edward Kenric, Harpernus Stoyan, Alessandro Cipriano, Victor Argeneau, and his friend DJ Benoit,” Captain Brunswick introduced as he paused at the table. “Gentlemen, this is Mabel Allen.”

Victor eyed the woman curiously. This then was the friend who co-owned the restaurant and bed-and-break-fast with Elvi. Brunswick had said her opinion was important to Elvi, but Victor wasn’t there to romance a possible lifemate, so merely nodded in greeting.

The other “suitors” showed more interest by actually voicing their hellos. DJ, however, stood and reached to take the woman’s hand, saying, “Enchanté.”

Victor rolled his eyes. DJ usually only resorted to such displays of charm when attempting to pick up women. Generally, they were much younger and melted like soft butter under his efforts. Mabel wasn’t so easily impressed. Rather than smile, her mouth tightened and she quickly tugged her hand free.

She then turned her gimlet gaze on Victor. It seemed pretty obvious he didn’t meet muster. The woman’s mouth turned down with displeasure as she took in his attire and the state of his hair.

“You need a haircut,” she announced, and then turned to include DJ in her displeasure. “Both of you do, and a shave.”

The comment made Victor run a hand lightly over his chin. He grimaced at the rasp of whiskers. He’d barely woken up when DJ had arrived to collect him that evening. All he’d managed to do before the apartment buzzer had announced his arrival was to drain two bags of blood. With the younger man pacing his living room and poking curiously at everything, Victor had merely jumped in and out of the shower and thrown on his clothes. He’d forgotten to shave or even brush his hair. It had dried the way it laid when he came out of the shower and no doubt looked unkempt.

Having made her displeasure clear, Mabel Allen then turned her attention to the other three men. They faired much better under her critical eye, though a cynical expression crossed her face as she took in Edward’s tux. Still, she didn’t comment or criticize any of them, but simply nodded as if to say, “You’ll do.” It seemed she preferred their clean-cut presentation to his more relaxed, need-a-comb look.

“Sit down, Mabel,” Brunswick suggested. “We can ask the questions you made up.”

Victor was just getting irritated at the idea of more grilling when the woman shook her head. “Owen’s cake is done. Elvi wants to present it now. She’s been awake for a while and is hungry.”

“Oh. I guess we’d best get it going, then.” Brunswick frowned and glanced to a table where a couple and two teenage boys sat. His gaze then moved to the back of the restaurant where another family was just leaving the booth nearest the beaded arch. “Maybe we should move the Knights to the booth nearer the kitchen. Those cakes Elvi makes are huge and we don’t want her stumbling and dropping it trying to get through this crowd.”

“Good idea,” Mabel said and the pair moved off.

“The cake is done and she’s hungry?” DJ murmured, his eyes trailing the older woman. “This Elvi can’t be that old if she still eats cake. If she’s young enough it would explain her mistakes.”

“Her sire should have taught her such things,” Victor responded, watching Brunswick and Mabel speak to one of the teenagers. They then turned to say something to the parents. The quartet rose and started toward the back of the restaurant.

Mabel and Brunswick were at the back of the small group, following the teenager they’d first greeted. The young man wasn’t displaying the same eagerness as the others, walking at a much slower pace that soon left them behind the main party. And, Victor noted, while he was smiling, there was a worried edge to his expression. It seemed obvious the boy was nervous and growing more so with every step.

“Will it hurt?” he asked just as they drew level with the table where Victor and the others sat.

The question caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes as Mabel clucked and chided, “Don’t be silly, Owen. Of course it won’t hurt. Do you think men would be lining up for this if it hurt?”

That response merely made Victor frown with confusion as he tried to sort out what they were talking about. The boy’s next question, however, raised alarm bells in his mind.

“I won’t turn into one, will I?”

This time there was no clucking and chiding. Mabel and Brunswick exchanged a glance, but the woman merely said, “Now, what would make you ask a question like that? No one else has, have they?”

“That’s not a no,” the boy pointed out anxiously.

Brunswick and Mabel exchanged another glance, then the woman said firmly, “Don’t be silly, Owen. Do you want to do this or not? Because we can just present the cake and skip the rest of it.”

There was a brief pause as he glanced toward the booth where the other teenager and his parents were seating themselves, then said quickly, “No, no. I’ll do it. Dan would never let me live it down if I backed out.”

DJ leaned close and hissed, “They aren’t talking about what I think they’re talking about, are they?”

Victor’s answer was to catch Brunswick’s arm as he passed and pull him to a stop. “What’s the boy worried about? What is he afraid will hurt?”

“His Birthday Bite,” Brunswick answered and would have continued walking, but Victor held him back.

“Birthday Bite?” he queried sharply.

Impatient to get going, Brunswick quickly explained, “On their eighteenth birthday, the boys come here for a special celebratory dinner on the house. They get cake that Elvi makes for them, and then she bites them.” He paused, but when there was a deafening silence from the men at the table, he added, “It’s sort of a rite of passage from boyhood to manhood.”

“A rite of passage?” DJ asked with disbelief.

“The Indians have their rituals, we have ours,” Brunswick said with a shrug, then tugged his arm free. “I have to go.”

This time, Victor let him escape. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

A sudden hush in the room made them all glance toward the back of the room. Victor’s eyes widened as a curvy redhead stepped through the beads separating the restaurant from the kitchen. If this was Elvi, her picture was misleading. For one thing, in the picture, her hair had looked dark rather than the vibrant red it truly was. The photo also hadn’t revealed that she was short, no more than five foot three. And she certainly hadn’t been wearing the getup she was in now.

His eyes skated over the long, form-fitting gown, lingering over the naked flesh of her lower legs revealed as she walked, then returned to her face. It was the same face and yet now he was noticing the piquant, elfin quality to it, and that her eyes weren’t just large, they were huge, and she had the most adorable little nose he’d ever seen. As for her lips—

Victor gave his head a shake. While her picture hadn’t impressed him, the real deal somehow robbed him of breath. He found himself staring with fascination, his eyes following as she moved to the table where the boy, Owen, and his family sat.

The faint chime of bells marked her passage and it took a moment for Victor to realize it came from a chain of charms around her ankle. He then found himself staring at that ankle, noting the delicate curve from lower calf to heel.

It wasn’t until DJ sucked in a hearty breath that Victor’s gaze rose back to the woman herself and he realized she’d reached the table and squeezed herself onto the end of the bench seat with the two teenagers. She was now leaning toward Owen, whispering something in his ear. When the lad swallowed thickly and gave a nervous nod, she chuckled softly. The whole room was silent, everyone seeming to hold their breath.

“Dear God! She’s going to bite him right here in front of everyone,” DJ gasped with horror.

“She wouldn’t dare,” Victor breathed with disbelief, but even as he said the words, she leaned in toward the boy again.

“We have to do something!” DJ hissed. “We can’t let everyone in here see this.”

Victor didn’t answer, he was already on his feet, rushing toward the corner booth.

Four

Victor had nearly reached the back booth when Teddy Brunswick suddenly stepped in his way.

“What are you doing, son?” the officer asked grimly.

Victor started to slip into his mind to make him step aside, and then hesitated as he realized another man had moved up behind Brunswick, backing him up…And another.

Stiffening, Victor peered slowly around to see that the male patrons seated nearest them were stiff and narrow-eyed, ready to step in should the need arise. It wasn’t until DJ spoke that he realized the younger immortal had followed and now had his own back.

“What do we do?” DJ breathed, his voice so low that only Victor could have heard him.

“Son,” Brunswick growled before he could answer DJ. “I asked you a question. What are you doing? You weren’t thinking to hurt our Elvi, were you?”

Aware of the sudden shifting around them, Victor glanced about to see that the mortal men were starting to look mean, very much resembling a lynch mob as they closed in. He also noted that Alessandro, Harper, and Edward had moved up to stand behind DJ, offering their support if necessary, but Victor didn’t want this to turn into a brawl.

Between their increased strength and their ability to control minds, it would be no problem for the five of them to deal with this crowd, but he didn’t want to clean up the mess afterward. The idea of wiping every mind of every patron in the restaurant was wearying, besides it was a risky business. If even one person proved difficult to wipe and managed to retain their memories, they could draw out the memories of the others and it would have been a complete waste of time. He may yet have to wipe the memories of all these people, but would rather avoid it if possible. Victor had no idea what was going on, what these people did or did not know, and didn’t want to force such an action until he did.

Taking a deep breath, he lied, “No, of course not. You misunderstood. I had no intention of hurting Elvi. I was just eager to meet her.”

“Uh-huh.” Brunswick didn’t look as if he believed him and Victor understood why when the man asked, “Then why are you clutching Lerner’s stake in your hand?”

Victor peered down with surprise at the small wooden stake that he’d apparently pulled from his back pocket as he’d rushed forward. He hadn’t been aware he’d done so. Now, he held it out to Brunswick.

“I was bringing it to you…as an excuse to come to the table and meet Elvi.”

The officer eyed him narrowly for a moment and then allowed his gaze to move over the other three immortals behind them. Apparently none of the “suitors” gave away the game by expression. Brunswick relaxed the tiniest fraction.

“Trying to get the jump on the other men,” he suggested.

“Something like that,” Victor muttered.

Brunswick nodded slowly, but apparently wasn’t totally convinced. He took the stake, but then peered more closely at him. “Show me your teeth again, son. I didn’t get a real good look when you were showing them to Vlad.”

Victor stiffened. Obviously, the man wished to assure himself he didn’t have another vampire hunter on his hands. Victor resented having to prove his status, but suspected he wouldn’t get near Elvi if he didn’t so opened his mouth and then allowed his incisors to slip down and protrude.

Teddy Brunswick examined them thoroughly, even reaching out to poke at them to ensure they weren’t some sort of insert. Seemingly satisfied, he then nodded and relaxed completely.

“Okay, but this is Owen’s moment. You can talk to Elvi afterward.” Teddy Brunswick gestured to the table where he’d seated the five men earlier. “Go sit down. Mabel and I will join you in a moment.”

Victor glanced past Brunswick and saw Elvi glancing curiously their way as she listened distractedly to a smiling, chattering and unbitten Owen. Nodding reluctantly, he turned and led the other immortals back to their assigned table.

“So you are here on council business,” Edward commented as the men reclaimed their seats.

“I was afraid of that,” Harper murmured. “I suppose the council wasn’t pleased by her advertising in the single’s columns.”

“Not very, no,” Victor admitted.

“I was sure she was going to bite him right there in front of everyone,” DJ said apologetically, his gaze shifting back to the birthday booth. His eyes then moved around the crowded restaurant, taking in each patron. “Do you think they all know?”

“How could they not?” Victor asked, following his gaze with a frown. He and DJ might have more on their hands than they’d expected with this case.

“So, what does the council intend to do about Elvi?” Edward asked.

The man’s expression was calculating. Victor had no doubt he was considering what this might mean should she turn out to be his lifemate. He glanced at the faces of the other two prospective suitors. All of them were concerned, and with good reason.

“It isn’t just the ads,” he said finally. “There are rumors running rampant all over the Toronto club scene that there’s a female vampire living in one of the small, lakeside towns in southern Ontario.”

The three men were silent, only their expressions revealing that they understood the gravity of the matter. There were few laws among their people, but they were important laws and not drawing attention to themselves or the existence of their people was right up there in importance. Another was they weren’t allowed to bite a mortal…except in cases of an emergency.

His gaze slid to the corner booth again. The woman was laughing at something the teen had said. The boy seemed totally at ease now and he was as lit up as a Christmas tree, apparently his fears had abated. It didn’t matter. They weren’t allowed to bite because it increased the risk of detection for their people and she apparently intended to bite the boy and, from what Brunswick had said, he wouldn’t be the first.

“And she appears to be biting mortals,” Alessandro murmured, apparently thinking along the same lines.

Victor didn’t comment. He glanced around the restaurant, slipping quickly and easily into various minds. As he’d feared, every single person here knew that Elvi was a vampire…and that he and the other men there were too.

Elvi Black was in a great deal of trouble with the council. The kind that could see her staked and left out in the sun all day, then beheaded. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t a lifemate to any of the men here.

“Okay.”

Victor glanced up with a start to find Brunswick had returned, managing to do so without his hearing or noticing it.

“Okay,” Brunswick repeated now that he had everyone’s attention. “Mabel and I think it would be best to quickly introduce the bunch of you, and then Elvi will take Owen back to her office for his Birthday Bite. When Mabel goes back to collect the boy, she’ll explain what you’re doing here, then she can join your table and—”

“What do you mean she’ll explain what we’re doing here?” Harper interrupted. “She knows. She invited us.”

Brunswick grimaced. “Actually, she didn’t. Mabel put the ad in the single’s column and responded to all your e-mails, then invited you down here for the week. Elvi has no idea about any of this.”

“I told you our kind wouldn’t be stupid enough to put an ad in a single’s column,” DJ said with satisfaction.

“No, but your kind are stupid enough to answer it,” Brunswick snapped, his face flushed with either embarrassment at being involved in this match-making attempt, or just plain irritation. Possibly, it was both.

“So, she wasn’t advertising?” Harper cast a hopeful look Victor’s way that seemed to say, Here’s one less sin on her list at least.

But it was only one, Victor thought, his mouth tightening. He turned his attention back to Brunswick and said, “There are rumors all over the club scene about a beautiful young female vampire residing in a small southern town. Like this one.”

“Yes,” DJ said, picking up his intent. “Does Elvi go to Toronto and visit the clubs?”

“Well…” Brunswick looked slightly embarrassed and glanced away. “She…er…we…”

“Does she?” Victor asked, impatient with his dithering.

“No,” Brunswick admitted reluctantly. He ran one hand agitatedly through his hair before explaining, “You see, this is a small town.”

No one commented on this obvious statement.

“There’s one high school and we all went there together. We’re pretty tight because of that, I guess, but over the last five years or so we’ve lost several of our group. Mabel’s husband died six years ago of a heart attack. Elvi’s husband and daughter in a car accident a year later, then Elvi turned…” He frowned. “It’s all been downhill from there. We’ve lost one or two a year since then, but this year we lost three in a row in a six-month period. We’re at that age,” he acknowledged solemnly.

Victor remained silent, aware of the discomfort of the other immortals. There was a certain amount of guilt attached to the knowledge that this was not a problem they suffered. Heart attacks, cancer, and so on weren’t an issue for them. Victor himself was over two thousand years old. Age wasn’t a threat to his kind like it was to mortals.

“We all took the deaths hard,” Brunswick went on, “but Elvi seemed to take it worse. She’s watching her friends and loved ones die around her and realizes she’ll soon be completely alone. Of course, the younger set will step up and befriend her, I’m sure, but it won’t be the same. Besides, they’ll die soon enough too, and so on.” He frowned down at the table and ran his finger around one of the ceramic tiles before admitting, “We don’t like the idea of leaving her behind to go through that alone.”

Victor’s eyes widened at the knowledge that—as they realized their own mortality—these two people, Mabel and Brunswick, were more concerned with their immortal friend being left behind alone, than with how death was creeping up on them. It impressed him and made him curious too.

Victor had always avoided attachments to mortals precisely because they weren’t around long in the grand scheme of things. If an average life was sixty-five years, he’d lived more than thirty-four lifetimes. Spending that time watching friends die around you one after another just didn’t bear thinking about.

“So…” Brunswick straightened. The pink flags in his cheeks announced that he was embarrassed by what he was about to say and his expression was pained. “Barney and I took a couple trips up to Toronto some months ago.”

“Barney?” DJ queried lightly.

“My lieutenant.”

“Unbelievable,” Victor muttered.

“What’s that?” Brunswick asked.

“Nothing. Go on. You and Barney made a couple trips to Toronto.”

“Yes.” He looked uncomfortable again. “We were thinking if there were any vampires in Canada besides Elvi, they’d be in a big city like Toronto. We went looking for some.”

This then was how the rumors had started going around the clubs, Victor realized. “You hit the club scene?”

Brunswick nodded. “It was Barney who thought we were more likely to find them at the clubs. He said if there were some, they probably didn’t have a town like Port Henry to support and help them get what they needed and he figured they’d probably…er…hunt at the clubs.”

He grimaced apologetically, then admitted, “We were too old for the clubs. The young women thought we were a couple of old perverts. No one would tell us anything. After the third trip with no results, Mabel decided to go the way of the singles ads. She felt sure there must be at least one lonely male vampire out there.

“I thought she was crazy, but…” He gestured around the table. “Her way was more successful than our attempts.”

The men at the table were silent for a moment, and then DJ stood abruptly. “I need to go to the men’s room. Victor?”

Nodding, he stood to follow, knowing the younger immortal wanted to discuss this latest information.

“I thought only girls traveled to the bathroom in packs, but you male vamps do it too, huh? Is it in case someone tries to stake you while you’re taking a leak?” Brunswick asked as they moved away from the table, and then added, “You won’t have to worry about that here. We’re vampire friendly in Port Henry.”

Victor ignored him, his mind chewing over what he’d learned as he followed DJ to the washroom and waited as he slipped into the minds of the few men there and made them leave, done with their business or not.

“Well?” DJ said as the door closed behind the last man. “Can we go home now? She didn’t put the ad in the paper or spread the rumors around Toronto.”

“No,” Victor acknowledged. “But she has shared the knowledge of her existence with mortals.”

DJ waved that away impatiently. “There’s no law against that. Marguerite’s servants know, and most immortals have one or two mortals in the know. Hell, half of Argeneau Enterprises is made up of mortals who are aware of the secret and sworn to silence on the matter.”

“But Brunswick and the other mortals here aren’t staying silent on the matter,” Victor pointed out.

DJ ran a hand through his hair in agitation. It was obvious that the more they learned about the woman, the more the younger man was feeling sympathy for her. Victor suspected he was thinking none of this was her fault, but Victor knew the council wouldn’t see it that way. Immortals were extremely careful of whom they shared the information with for precisely this reason, and if nothing else, Elvi Black had failed to ensure the people she entrusted the information to were trustworthy. Having a whole town know you were an immortal was hardly being cautious and discreet.

“What if we warn them to silence before we go?” DJ suggested hopefully.

Victor just shook his head and reminded him, “She’s biting mortals.” Which meant she was on a collision course with the council and it wouldn’t be pretty, but it was their job to take care of such matters.

DJ let his breath out on a sigh. “I was hoping you’d forgotten that bit.” Scowling, he shook his head. “Who the hell was her sire? He should have told her it was wrong.”

“How do you know she doesn’t know it’s wrong?” Victor asked dryly.

“She’d hardly be doing it so openly if she knew the consequences,” DJ pointed out. “Using it as a ritual of manhood for all the young men in town is hardly sneaking around and biting boys in the dark. She can’t know it’s against our laws.”

“Hmm.” Victor supposed that was true. Unless the woman had a death wish and actually wanted her head cut off, she probably didn’t know what she was doing was wrong. “Well, it appears that will be our next objective. We need to find out if she is aware of our laws, and who her sire is.”

“What does it matter who her sire is?” DJ asked with surprise. “He can’t be held responsible for her actions.”

“He can if he didn’t tell her our laws.”

“The only sire likely to turn a mortal and not bother telling them our laws is one who’s gone rogue.”

“Exactly,” Victor agreed.

“Ah.” The younger immortal nodded with understanding. “We may have a rogue we don’t know about. He might have turned her and left her to her own devices.” He nodded again, then asked, “Would the council punish her if she didn’t know she was breaking our laws?”

“Ignorance is no excuse, even in mortal court.”

DJ sighed and shook his head. “It seems a shame. If she doesn’t know any better, there was no intent.”

“You sound like a lawyer marshalling his defense,” Victor said with a smile.

DJ shrugged. “Maybe I will defend her in front of the council. I like her.”

“You haven’t even met her yet,” Victor pointed out with a laugh.

“Well, I like her restaurant, and I read Brunswick’s mind,” DJ announced. “He thinks she’s a ‘damned fine woman’ always there to help others, and a pillar of the community all her life. She apparently volunteered at everything before she was turned and still does. She’s a good woman, Victor. The very fact that her friends would go to all this trouble for her says as much.”

“Hmm.” He frowned. “Then we’d best find out all we can so that the council can make a fair judgment. Otherwise, I fear she could lose her head.”

Mouth tight, DJ nodded and led the way out of the bathroom.

“Are you ready now?” Brunswick asked when they reached the table.

When both men nodded, he heaved out a little breath, and stood. When the other men stood as well, he said, “Now, just remember to keep your traps shut about this ad business and restrict yourself to only saying hello until Mabel has a chance to explain.”

“Why not wait to introduce us until after Mabel’s explained?” Edward asked dryly. “Surely that makes more sense.”

“Not if you know Elvi,” Brunswick assured him. “Once she knows what we’ve done she’ll be mad as hell, but she’ll also be terribly embarrassed and if she hasn’t met you already, she’ll no doubt refuse to do so.” He shook his head. “No, this is the best way. Now, come on.”

As had been the case throughout, the man didn’t wait for protests or agreement, but simply gestured for them to follow and turned to head back the way he’d come.

“Well?” Harper asked, glancing to Victor for guidance.

Shrugging, he turned to trail Brunswick, aware that the rest of the men followed suit.

They nearly reached the booth this time. Victor was just walking past the shelf with the statue of the iguana family on it when he noted movement out of the corner of his eye. Then part of the statue separated from the rest and launched itself at him.

And all hell broke loose.

Five

“I told you I saw it move,” DJ muttered.

Victor didn’t pay him any attention. All his focus was on the petite woman presently fussing over him and pressing a napkin to his ear and neck. Victor’s roar when the iguana landed on his neck and shoulder and latched onto his ear had managed to get everyone’s attention, but the whole place had erupted in shouts and screams when he’d begun to claw at his neck and spin on the spot.

Shouting for someone named Pedro, Elvi had abandoned the birthday boy and hurried to Victor’s side. She’d removed the iguana, passed it off to a little Mexican man who’d come running from the back of the restaurant, and then had snatched up napkins from the nearest table, cooing as she fussed over him.

“I’m so sorry. He’s never done anything like this in the five years we’ve had the restaurant,” she repeated, tugging at his arm to force him to bend over so she didn’t have to continue to stand on her tiptoes to see his wound.

Victor grunted and bent obligingly forward, blinking as he found himself peering down the low neckline of her dress at her considerable cleavage.

“Oh dear. We’d best clean this up and put a bandage on it.” Her voice sounded shaky as she stepped away from him, removing her bountiful breasts from his view. “You better come with me.”

Victor straightened and waited as she excused herself to the birthday boy and his family. He then followed her gyrating hips in the tight skirt as she led the way through the beaded arch and turned into a small office with a desk, two chairs, a small refrigerator, a filing cabinet, and a tall metal cabinet with double doors.

“Have a seat.” Elvi gestured to the two chairs in front of the desk. She moved to the metal cabinet and opened one of the doors to reveal shelves stacked neatly with paperwork and various other items including a first-aid kit. Retrieving the small white kit, she set it on the desk and opened it. After a pause, she removed a swatch of cotton, then opened a dark brown bottle and poured some of its contents on the cotton before moving to him.

“This will sting,” she warned and set to work cleaning his ear and neck.

Victor sat completely still, hardly noticing the sharp stinging she caused as he inhaled her scent. She smelled of vanilla and spices from the kitchen, a delectable combination that made his mouth water. Tightening his lips, he tried to ignore the smell, but found his nose working to inhale more of it.

“Hmm,” Elvi murmured at his side, her breath teasing his ear. “It isn’t as bad as I first feared. More blood than damage, thank goodness.”

Victor didn’t comment. The wound had been quite deep; however his body had started to repair itself at once. This answered one of their questions, however. She couldn’t recognize another immortal. It was usually instinctual with their kind. Although, unless taught, they wouldn’t recognize the signals their mind and body were sending.

Aware her hands had gone still and hearing her swallow thickly by his ear, he turned to peer at her. Her eyes must have been hazel as a mortal, now the green shone with silver and the brown around the outside glowed gold. She was biting one corner of her lip, a sharp fang poking out as she peered at his still bleeding ear. He wasn’t terribly surprised. She was pale and obviously hadn’t fed enough. The blood would be tempting to her. He waited curiously to see what she would do.

“Oh.” Elvi gave her head a sudden shake and stepped back, one hand coming up to cover her mouth and the fangs he’d glimpsed pushing past her lips. Turning away, she threw the blood-soaked cotton out as if it were on fire. “I’m sure it will heal quickly. Though you might want to let a doctor take a look at it tomorrow.”

“There’s no need for a doctor,” Victor murmured, watching her closely. “Our kind heal quickly and well.”

Elvi stilled and turned slowly back.

“Our kind?” she asked uncertainly, still shielding her mouth with one hand.

“Immortals,” he said quietly, then used the term Brunswick and Mabel had repeated several times. “Vampires.”

Elvi sucked in a breath. “You—You’re…one too?”

When Victor nodded, her hand fell to her side and she dropped into the opposite chair. She was silent for the longest time, simply staring at him, seemingly at a loss. It was long enough that her teeth withdrew back into their resting place before she finally said, “When I first got back from Mexico, Mabel and I tried to find others, but…”

Elvi paused and raised one shaky hand to push the hair back from her face.

“You need to feed,” he said mildly.

Nodding reluctantly, she stood and moved to the small refrigerator behind the desk to retrieve a bag of blood. Avoiding his gaze, she grabbed scissors off the desk, clipped off a corner of the bag, and poured half of the blood into a glass on her desk.

Elvi started to raise the glass to her lips at once, then paused and, apparently remembering her manners, held it uncertainly out to Victor. When he shook his head, she lifted it to her lips, and then turned self-consciously away as she drank it. The action seemed one of habit more than anything and Victor watched her curiously. Elvi drank the glass quickly as if knocking back a shot of whiskey. She then poured another glass.

“I thought Owen was to be your meal this night,” he commented. “You’ll be too full to feed from him.”

A small laugh slipped from her lips as she sipped the second glass. “Not likely. I’m pretty sure he’s going to chicken out like the rest of them do.”

“Chicken out?” Victor asked with interest.

Elvi nodded as she licked her upper lip, then explained, “Most of them do and it’s really all just a big bother, but…” She shrugged and lifted the glass to her lips.

“If so, then why not forsake this Birthday Bite business?” he asked.

She lowered the glass and peered at him curiously. “You know about that?”

“Your Captain Brunswick was explaining it to me,” he admitted.

Something in his tone must have revealed that he wasn’t impressed with the whole deal. She nodded and peered down into the glass, then explained, “It all started as a joke. A group of teenagers came in one night. One of the cockier ones was teasing me, trying to get me to bite him. He even went so far as to slice his palm with a pocket knife and hold it out.”

Elvi shook her head at the memory. “I wanted to take a switch to his behind. But, of course, I couldn’t do that. Instead, I just laughed and said I didn’t bite babies.” She grimaced. “Foolishly I added, ‘Come back when you’re a man.’

Elvi sighed and shrugged. “Two months later he returned. It was his eighteenth birthday. ‘I’m a man now, Elvi,’ he says. ‘Legal. I want my bite.’”

Her mouth tightened. “I tried to laugh it off, but he wasn’t having any of it. He and his friends were causing such a fuss, Mabel finally said, ‘He’s of age, if he wants it, bite him. It just means one less bag of blood we have to come up with.’”

“So you bit him,” Victor murmured.

She nodded. “Much to his friends’ disappointment, I made him come to the back office for it. I wasn’t biting him in front of everyone like some freak show. Besides, I—”

“Besides?” Victor prompted when she fell silent.

Elvi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured, then continued, “a couple weeks later they returned. It was his friend’s eighteenth birthday. I could tell at once that the friend wasn’t like the troublemaker. He didn’t really want to be bit; he just didn’t want to look like a sissy in front of his buddy. I brought him back here, told him he didn’t have to do it, and gave him a bandage for his neck so no one would know.

“I was sorry I’d been so nice about it when I overheard him bragging to his friends about how ‘hot’ it had been.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, with that kind of press, a couple weeks later another showed up for his ‘Birthday Bite,’ then another. It became almost expected. Turning eighteen? Go to Bella’s and have Elvi bite you,” she said wryly.

“They all come now, but half of them are only here because their friends push them into it, while others want to but are more afraid than they are excited at the prospect. Then some arrive high or bolstered up by liquid courage and I won’t bite any of those. But, they all come to my office and—bite or no bite—get a bandage so everyone thinks they went through with it.”

She ran her finger around the top of her glass. “I’d guess one in five actually gets bitten, but they all get a cake now and a bandage.”

“And bragging rights,” Victor murmured.

Elvi shrugged. “Boys will be boys.”

Victor was silent. This information did affect things. It might even save her beautiful neck. He wasn’t sure. There was some biting between immortals and their lovers who were willing and that was mostly ignored by the council. But while all of these boys were willing, they didn’t classify as lovers and the sheer number of them would upset the council. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t living quietly and trying to avoid detection. Everyone in this town seemed to know what she was.

A knock at the door had Elvi frowning and glancing toward it. She set her glass aside and moved to answer the door, revealing tonight’s birthday boy, Owen.

“Mabel said I should come back here,” the boy said nervously, his eyes slipping from Elvi to Victor, then away.

“Of course,” Elvi murmured, ushering him inside. She then turned to peer at Victor apologetically. “If you’ll excuse us?”

Victor hesitated, then stood and left the room. He pulled the door closed, but rather than return to the table, paused and stayed to listen through the door.

Elvi stared at the closed door with regret. She’d never met another vampire and had a million questions she would have liked to ask. She feared she’d missed her opportunity, however. He wasn’t a local. Obviously he was just passing through town. She had no idea why he’d stopped at the restaurant. Perhaps those men he’d been with were mortals and had needed to stop for a late dinner. She supposed she’d never know. The man would no doubt return to his friends and leave before she finished with Owen and made her way back out to the dining area.

It was the first time in five years Elvi had met another of her kind and what had she done? Chattered nervously about the Birthday Bite and its origins. It was true he’d asked about it, but if she hadn’t been so overset, she might have had the good sense to ask at least one or two of the questions she had. Like what was she? Could she get her soul back? How could she end her existence?

Instead she’d babbled about the biting.

It hadn’t just been the fact that he was a vampire that had left her so unsettled. It was the man himself. He was tall and gorgeous and smelled good and Elvi had found him terribly attractive before she’d even found out he was a vampire. That in itself had been disturbing. Elvi hadn’t reacted to a man this strongly in years. In her whole life, if she were to be honest with herself. Her husband had been her high school sweetheart. She’d grown up with him and known him all her life. They’d had a comfortable, loving relationship, but she didn’t recall ever finding herself responding to his very presence with every fiber of her being as she had to this man’s nearness. She’d been so disconcerted by just being near him she hadn’t noticed her own reactions to the smell of his blood until her teeth had started to shift, and then her only thought had been to get away from him. While gaining a little distance from him had eased the blood hunger, it hadn’t eased her other reactions to him. Elvi had acted like a nervous teenager on her first date, babbling like an idiot about nonsense instead of asking the very important questions she had.

Now she was just feeling confused and torn. Part of her was glad she wouldn’t meet him again and be forced to deal with the reactions he caused in her. The other part of her was upset. The idea of another five years passing before happening onto another of her kind and getting the answers she wanted was terribly disheartening.

Sighing, Elvi turned to face Owen.

“So…” She eyed him, noting the pallor to his cheeks and his lack of excitement. The boy was staring at the floor, a fine tremor running through his body.

Shaking her head, she said gently, “We don’t have to do this, Owen.”

He raised his head hopefully, but then his expression and shoulders drooped again just as quickly. “If we don’t, my friends will tease me until I die,” he said glumly. “We have to do it.”

Elvi frowned, thinking that peer pressure sucked. But there was no way she wanted to bite someone who was so obviously terrified of the very idea.

“They don’t have to know,” she assured him and moved to her desk. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out the box of special bandages for just this sort of occasion. Choosing one with Happy Birthday stamped on it in purple, she slid it from the pack and held it up. “Put this on and we’ll both just pretend it happened. No one has to know I didn’t bite you.”

Owen stared at the Band-Aid as if it were a life raft, but asked uncertainly, “What do I say when they ask me what it was like?”

Elvi shrugged. “Just tell them you don’t kiss and tell.”

His eyes widened with new interest. “There’s kissing?”

“No,” she said quickly and then chuckled softly at his disappointment. “It’s just an old expression that means you won’t be indiscreet enough to tell.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. Apparently if there was no kissing, he wasn’t interested. She suspected if she’d said yes, there was kissing, he might have changed his mind and decided to go through with it, but while biting was one thing, she was not going around kissing teenage boys. She might look twenty-five, but Elvi felt every minute of her sixty-two years…Which was rather odd when she thought about it.

Before she’d turned, Elvi had always felt like a sixteen-year-old trapped in an old woman’s collapsing body. While her body had aged on the outside, gaining wrinkles and weakening with age, she’d never really changed inside. She’d still felt like the same young, hopeful woman she’d been at sixteen, eighteen, and twenty. Now that she’d turned, however, she felt like a sixty-two-year-old fraud hiding in a young woman’s body. It seemed she couldn’t win for losing.

“Here, put this on your neck.” Elvi tossed him the bandage and then moved to her desk to pick up her glass again. She automatically began to gulp it. The flavor had horrified her at first even as she’d craved it. It no longer bothered her, but she wouldn’t do anything as crass as savor the flavor in front of Owen. She already knew from Mabel’s reactions that it was just gross to actually appear to enjoy the taste of blood, but as it was her only source of nutrition, she couldn’t help it.

“What’s it taste like?” Owen asked curiously.

Elvi lowered the glass and considered how to answer the question. She finally said, “Surely you’ve cut a finger or your hand and stuck it in your mouth at some point or other?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Well.” Elvi shrugged and set the glass down to pour in the rest of the blood. “Then you know what it tastes like.”

Owen grimaced. “Doesn’t it taste different now that you’re a vampire?”

“A bit,” she admitted reluctantly. Uncomfortable with the conversation and the fact that it reminded her that she was now something of a freak, Elvi gestured to the door. “You should go eat your cake. I made it myself.”

Owen nodded and moved to the door, then paused to glance back.

“Thank you,” he offered and ran a finger over the bandage on his neck. “For this.”

“You’re welcome, Owen. Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” he grinned and reached for the doorknob, adding, “and good luck tonight.”

Elvi had started to turn away, but paused and glanced after him with confusion. “What do you mean ‘good luck tonight’?”

Owen appeared surprised at the question. “You know…the vampire guys that came to town.”

“What?” Elvi stared blankly.

Owen frowned at her confusion. “You know…that guy who was in here and his friends.” When her expression didn’t change, he looked worried and murmured, “I know it was supposed to be a secret the last few weeks, but I thought Mabel would have told you by now. I mean they’re here. She has to tell you.”

“Who are here?” Elvi asked, setting her glass down and moving around the desk.

Owen hesitated. Finally, he said, “I don’t think I should tell you. I think it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“What’s supposed to be a surprise?” she asked, growing impatient. “I don’t like surprises, Owen. Just tell me.”

When he continued to hesitate, she shifted impatiently and said, “I won’t tell anyone you told me. It will be another secret between us.”

A brief struggle took place on his face and then he nodded solemnly. “You should know anyway. And besides, you did this for me.”

Elvi’s eyes followed the finger he ran over his throat and she smiled wryly. She hadn’t done anything but give him a bandage and supposed he meant the keeping it a secret part.

“All right,” Owen shifted his feet and then started back across the room. “I’ll tell you.”

Elvi settled herself on the corner of her desk and waited patiently for him to begin.

“If you’re quite done, I think you should probably return to the table with the others.”

Victor stiffened at that cold voice. Turning slowly away from the door and the conversation taking place inside, he peered at Mabel, squirming inwardly at being caught eavesdropping. “I was—”

“I know what you were doing,” she interrupted dryly.

Victor’s gaze narrowed as she slid a hand into her pocket, his alarm bells warning that she may have a weapon there.

“Return to the table please,” she insisted, hand still in her pocket.

Victor took in her grim determination and complete lack of fear. She had no clue who she was bossing around. He could have…Victor let the “could haves” go. He wasn’t going to harm the woman and she seemed to know that. Shrugging, he started forward.

Evidently he’d moved closer than she felt comfortable with, and apparently she was also less fearless than he’d thought, for she suddenly whipped a six-inch cross out of her pocket and held it up before her, hissing, “Back.”

Victor paused, his expression incredulous as he stared at the cross she was holding up like a shield. This wasn’t the weapon he’d expected. He hadn’t had one of those flashed at him in centuries. For God’s sake, the woman was apparently friends with Elvi; she should know that crosses and other holy relics had no effect on them.

“You can put that away,” he said soothingly, hating to see anyone afraid unnecessarily. “It can’t harm me and I wasn’t going to harm you.”

She merely held it out further and narrowed her eyes.

Rolling his own, Victor reached out and closed his hand over the top of the cross, nearly grinning at her wide-eyed look of shock.

“See?” he said after a moment when they both stood frozen. “No hiss of burning flesh, no pain. Religious relics have no effect.” Victor released the cross and stepped back to ease her fear at his nearness. “I was listening at the door to see if Elvi would have any trouble with the lad. He seemed frightened and uneager. She handled him beautifully. Now, I shall return to the table to wait with the others.”

Dignity restored, Victor continued on out into the dining area.

Six

“What?” Elvi dropped into her desk seat. “They did what?”

Owen swallowed nervously. “They…er…they put an ad in the paper for a male vampire,” he repeated. “And six were supposed to come to the restaurant tonight to meet you. Five of them are already here, I think.”

When Elvi stared at him with horror, he shifted uncomfortably, then said, “Well, I’d better get back to the table. Er…Thanks…for”—he gestured to his neck—“you know.”

Elvi heard the door open and close, but just sat there, her mind spinning. She couldn’t believe that Mabel and Teddy would…Dear God. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry…Or throw things. What were they thinking?

The door opened and Mabel stepped into the room.

“I just passed Owen. How are you doing?” Even as she asked the question, her gaze landed on the empty blood bag on the desk. “Chickened out, did he?” Shaking her head, Mabel crossed the room and grabbed the bag to toss it in the garbage, then settled on the corner of Elvi’s desk and said, “Listen. I have something to tell you.”

“You put an ad in the Toronto paper advertising a single, female vamp looking for a male vamp and picked six to come spend the week in Port Henry,” Elvi said dully.

“Ah.” Mabel ran her tongue nervously over her lips. “Owen?”

Elvi nodded. “He wished me luck with tonight and then I made him tell me what he was talking about.”

“Hmm.” Mabel bit her lip and then let out a resigned breath. “Well, it’s my own fault. I should have told you earlier, but I was afraid you’d get upset.”

“You’re damned right I’d have gotten upset!” Elvi snapped, and then asked with disbelief, “What were you thinking?”

“Well—” She hesitated, then said grimly, “I was thinking that I’m sixty-two years old and not going to be around much longer and—”

“Don’t say that!” Elvi exclaimed with horror.

“Oh, Elvi.” Mabel shook her head sadly. “We’ve both lost our husbands and several friends the last few years. Three of our set have died in the last six months alone. Who knows how much longer I have here? I don’t want to die knowing that you’ll be left here alone.”

Elvi sat back and stared at her, hating what she was saying, but knowing she was right. Their friends and loved ones were starting to drop like flies and each loss made her feel sad, angry, and just plain guilty because death was something she no longer had to consider.

“This is for the best. If we find you a vampire mate, you’ll have someone to help you through…everything,” Mabel ended lamely rather than mention her own death again.

Elvi was silent. Part of her was tempted by the thought of having someone there for her, someone she didn’t have to fear losing. But the other part of her…

“I don’t think I’m ready to start dating again,” she admitted unhappily.

“It’s not dating exactly,” Mabel assured her, and when Elvi peered at her with open disbelief, she continued, “Look, tons of men responded to the ad. I sorted through them, wrote back and forth and picked the ones I thought might be for real. I didn’t do too badly either. It turns out we only had to send two packing. The rest of them are real vampires like you. They’re all presentable and seem nice enough…well, except that long-haired one Pedro’s iguana bit,” she added with dislike. “He’s a troublemaker that one. That’s probably why the lizard jumped on him. Animals sense these things.”

Elvi blinked. She’d been so stunned by what Owen had revealed, she hadn’t put two and two together and connected her wounded vampire with Mabel and Teddy’s plans. Of course, she realized, he wasn’t just stopping on his way through town, he was here to meet her…because of the single’s ad…because he thought she was advertising for a man.

“Oh God,” she muttered with humiliation.

“No, it will be all right,” Mabel assured her quickly as Elvi hunched forward in her chair and covered her flushed face with her hands. “Look, Teddy and I have taken care of everything. All you have to do is spend the week with them at the house and see if you click with one of them. Simple.”

Elvi let her hands drop. “They think I’m some desperate old woman who puts ads in the paper.”

“Old,” Mabel snorted. “If I looked as good as you do, I wouldn’t mind being sixty-two. Besides, they answered the ad. And you didn’t put it in. So who’s desperate here?”

Elvi muttered, “Oh God. This is so embarrassing.”

“It isn’t,” Mabel insisted. “And it doesn’t have to be dating. It will be whatever you want.”

When Elvi just shook her head unhappily, Mabel added, “At the very least, you might make friends that you don’t have to worry about up and croaking on you. And if we’re lucky, they should know other female vamps you can hang out with.”

Elvi stopped to ponder that. Perhaps this wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. After all, she’d get to ask all those questions she had. It would be nice not to be so ignorant about what she now was.

“Four out of six, huh?” Elvi asked. “Owen said five were here.”

“Oh.” Mabel made a face. “The fifth one is a friend of the vampire Pedro’s iguana bit.” She shook her head. “How immature is that? Needing to bring a friend.”

“Oh, I don’t know, probably about as mature as a friend having to put an ad in a paper to find you a date,” Elvi said dryly.

Mabel stuck out her tongue, then stood and considered her briefly. “You look tired.”

“I shouldn’t be. You let me sleep late.”

“But?” Mabel prompted.

“But I’m weary,” Elvi admitted, though she suspected it was a weariness of the soul. The moment she thought that, she felt more depressed. She was a vampire. Dead. Soulless. Spotting the concern on Mabel’s face, she forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

“You haven’t been drinking as much blood as you used to,” Mabel pointed out unhappily. “Maybe you’re ailing.”

“I don’t think vampires ail, Mabel.”

Mabel nodded, but still looked concerned. “Listen, why don’t you just go home and relax? I’ll take care of grilling the men.”

Elvi’s eyebrows rose. “After all the trouble you went to, you’re letting me off the hook?”

“Not exactly. I just think it might be better to let you meet them more naturally at the house as you run into them rather than serve you up to them like a roast pig on a platter.”

Elvi winced at the imagery. Despite having met one of the men and finding him really quite nice and handsome, her mind presented her with an image of her following Mabel to a table full of Dracula types, all eyeing her speculatively, deciding if she was good enough for them. Shuddering, she shook her head and stood. “I’m not ready for this.”

“No,” Mabel agreed, slipping an arm around her shoulders and urging her toward the door. “I should have given you a little more warning or something.”

“Hmm,” Elvi murmured, but didn’t think more time would have helped with this. To her it rather felt as if the whole matter was simply emphasizing how different she now was from everyone she’d always known and grown up with. Her difference was something she did her best to avoid acknowledging. A difficult matter considering she slept in a coffin, couldn’t look in a mirror, and no longer got to eat food, but Elvi still somehow mostly managed it. She suspected she’d become the Queen of Denial these last five years.

“Go home, change into whatever you want, build a fire and pour yourself a glass of w—blood.”

Elvi knew Mabel had started out saying wine, but had corrected herself. She wished with all her heart that she could go for the wine. A glass of wine and a fire sounded so relaxing and normal. A glass of blood and a fire just didn’t have the same connotation.

“Do you want me to drive you?” Mabel asked as she opened the office door.

Elvi shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It’s only three blocks.”

“All right. Well, you’ll have the house to yourself. I’ll keep the men here until the restaurant closes.”

Victor tapped his fingers impatiently on the table top, his gaze fixed on the arch at the back of the restaurant. Eventually, Elvi had to come out of there, surely? The woman had left them waiting all night while the restaurant slowly emptied and they were grilled by Mabel and Brunswick. An experience to be sure. Used to keeping information about themselves to a minimum with mortals, the five men had sat, shifting uncomfortably and answering as evasively as possible. However, Mabel was a determined sort, asking direct questions such as what they did for a living? Were they married? What were their interests?

Victor had been hard-pressed not to slip into her mind and make her stop and knew from the glances the men had sent his way, that the others had hoped he would, but hadn’t dared themselves with him there. As the oldest, a hunter for the council, and a member of one of the oldest families among their kind, they naturally deferred to him.

Victor hadn’t made the woman stop for two simple reasons. One, he felt that if one of the men did turn out to be a lifemate to Elvi Black, then she should have the information Mabel was trying to get for her. The second reason was that he was curious as to how far the woman would go for her friend. It was becoming clear that while their methods were causing Elvi problems with the council, they were done with love and loyalty. These two senior citizens were truly trying to help their Elvi. Being able to present his memories to the council might help the woman when she was finally dragged before them.

Victor’s tapping stopped expectantly when the last customer left and Mabel appeared from the kitchen to lock the front door and then moved to their table.

“Right,” she said, her gaze moving critically from one to the other.

When the silence began to wear on his nerves, Victor asked, “Are we finally going to get to spend time with Elvi?”

Brunswick glanced at him with surprise. “Elvi went home hours ago. Didn’t we mention that?”

“No, you certainly did not,” Victor said shortly. “If that is the case, why have we been sitting here for hours watching mortals eat? I thought the whole point of this exercise was to get to know Elvi.”

“It is, and you will,” Mabel snapped back just as shortly, then added, “She was tired. I sent her home to relax and get used to the idea of what we’ve arranged this week.”

Understanding immediately flickered through Victor. “You mean she was upset by what you did behind her back.”

Mabel scowled, then ignored him and announced, “We’re going to the house now. Teddy will take four of you in his car and I’ll take the remaining one in mine.”

“I’ll ride with you,” DJ announced getting to his feet.

Victor noted the way Mabel’s mouth tightened with displeasure. He too found it difficult to believe DJ would actually volunteer to ride with the old harridan. She’d done nothing but criticize and harass him and DJ all night. The woman most definitely wouldn’t have anything good to say about them to Elvi. Not that he cared, but he wondered why DJ would willingly put himself in the woman’s company.

“All right, the rest of you are with me, then.” Brunswick ushered them to the back of the restaurant.

“What about our car?” DJ asked as they stepped out into the parking lot.

“The house isn’t far from here. We’re just driving you there so you know where it is. You can come back for your cars later,” Mabel answered promptly. She paused beside a red Toyota and opened the driver’s door. When DJ started to open the front passenger door, she eyed him narrowly and ordered, “Back seat.”

Victor bit his lip to keep from laughing as DJ scowled and got in the back.

“My car’s over here,” Brunswick announced as he led the way to the only other car in the small lot, a police car parked in the back right corner. Spotting the grill between the front seat and back, Victor moved to the front passenger side door before anyone else could lay claim to it. There was no damned way he was sitting in the caged backseat, squished between two other men.

Mabel hadn’t been kidding about the house being close. It was a bare couple of minutes before Brunswick was steering the car into a driveway that curved up behind a large brick Victorian house.

“There are only six bedrooms,” Mabel announced as she led them into the front entry. “Elvi’s, mine, and four guest bedrooms. That means two of you will have to bunk together.” She paused at the foot of a curving staircase to glare at Victor and DJ. “And since you are the one who chose to bring an uninvited friend along, Argeneau, the two of you can be the ones to share.”

Victor’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t comment as she started up the stairs.

“What delightful trim,” Edward praised, his gaze slipping over the woodwork above the doors before he turned to follow Mabel. “Victorian?”

“Yes.” She actually smiled at Edward, something Victor had almost decided she was incapable of. “The house was built in the 1890s.”

“Such fine workmanship.” Edward ran his hand lovingly along the curving stair rail. “The Victorians understood the beauty of fine craftsmanship.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Mabel beamed and slowed so that they were side by side as they continued on.

Victor managed not to gag at the brownie points Edward was racking up. The man was obviously sucking up, somewhat surprising from the pompous Brit.

Once they were on the second floor, Mabel led them around a corner to the right and along a short hall to a door. “Victor and DJ will sleep here.”

She opened the door to show them a large room with a king-sized bed, a sitting area with a couch, chair and table, and a small refrigerator.

Stepping inside, Victor glanced to the right and saw two doors, one leading to a walk-in closet, the other to an en suite bathroom.

“The couch pulls out into a second bed,” Brunswick announced, reminding them of his presence. He then shifted and said, “Though, I suppose you won’t be needing it. Fortunately, all the rooms are plenty big enough for your coffins.”

Victor thought the joke was in poor taste. The fact that none of the other immortals laughed, suggested they agreed. They were all silent as they followed Mabel out of the room and into the hall again.

She led them to the opposite end of the hall and up another curving staircase to the third floor of the house. This level had obviously been recently renovated. The fine woodwork was missing here and everything appeared new. Each room was outfitted with a king-sized bed, a sitting area, its own small refrigerator, and an en suite bathroom.

“I don’t know whether you made alternate arrangements, but we stocked up on blood for you,” Brunswick announced as Edward stepped over to the refrigerator and opened the door to reveal several bags of blood inside.

“We’d rather you didn’t bite the locals,” the officer added firmly.

“That won’t be a concern,” Harper informed him quietly, avoiding Victor’s gaze. “It is against our laws to bite mortals unless in case of an emergency.”

“It is?” Brunswick frowned, obviously considering that their Elvi was biting mortals. Then he straightened his shoulders and said, “Well, I’m glad to hear it, but I’m the law here in Port Henry. If you have a problem, come see me. If you are a problem, you can expect I’ll come find you.”

As a threat it was effective, Victor thought, or would have been if the man weren’t mortal. It seemed obvious that they’d lived so long with their tame Elvi that they now assumed all immortals were as agreeable. The man had a lot to learn. Fortunately for him, Victor had no interest in teaching him.

“I’m going for the car,” he growled, turning to head back down.

“Do you want company, Victor?” DJ asked, catching up to him in the second-floor hall, then grinned and added, “I could act as lookout, make sure you don’t get caught and get yourself in trouble with Captain Brunswick.”

Victor smiled faintly at the teasing offer, not surprised DJ understood he’d feed along the way. He shook his head.” No need.”

“Okay. I’m going to grab a bag in our room while you’re at it, then,” DJ said, continuing on up the hall and around the corner while Victor started lightly down the spiral staircase.

Wondering over the comment about being a lookout to keep Victor from getting in trouble, Elvi started to straighten from the keyhole she’d been peering through, but paused as two more men appeared from the stairs to the third floor. One was a tall fair-haired man. The other was a couple inches shorter and dark-haired. Both were good-looking. She eyed them curiously as they walked past.

“I was not expecting all this,” the dark-haired man commented. “The Elvi, she did not mention there would be others here.”

“You mean Mabel,” the blond corrected and reminded him. “Mabel is the one who wrote the e-mails.”

“Si. Mabel.”

“I didn’t expect competition either,” the blond now admitted unhappily, and then shrugged. “Such is life.”

“Yes,” the darker man murmured and then added, “I do not mind Victor or you so much, but Edward, he is a prick.”

“Hmm.” The blond nodded. “Let’s hope he can read her, or that she gives him his walking papers quickly.”

The brunette shook his head. “He will be the perfect gentleman in front of her. It is only behind her back he will be shoving his thumb at us. Just look at how he is sucking up to her friend Mabel to get on her good side.”

“I think he’s slipped into her mind to exert some influence there,” the blond said.

“You think?” he asked with surprise. “Well, that’s hardly the fair play.”

“All’s fair in love and lifemates,” the blond answered dryly.

Elvi didn’t hear the other man’s response. The two were out of sight on the stairs and no longer within hearing distance.

“I do love this house. The Victorians had their faults, but architecture wasn’t one of them.”

Elvi’s eyes slid back to the end of the hall as the fifth and final man started up with Mabel and Teddy.

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more, Edward,” Mabel enthused, and Elvi frowned at the gushing tone to her voice. Mabel never gushed. And this was the Edward the men had mentioned, she realized, eyes narrowing. “I think he’s slipped into her mind and exerted some influence,” the blond had said. Elvi had no idea what he was talking about, but intended to find out. She wasn’t having her friend toyed with.

“I should go get my car,” Edward murmured as they passed the door where Elvi crouched, watching through the keyhole.

“Teddy can drive you back to get it,” Mabel offered, and Elvi’s expression tightened further. It just wasn’t like Mabel to volunteer others for a task. If anything, she would have offered to take him herself.

“Uh…sure,” Teddy agreed, obviously equally surprised at Mabel’s volunteering him. “But then I have to head back to the station.”

Straightening, Elvi turned away from the door as her mind worked. Was Edward controlling Mabel’s mind? And what was this Victor up to that his friend thought he would need a lookout? What the hell had Mabel got them into, inviting these men here? So far the only two who didn’t seem to be up to something were the tall, Nordic-looking one and the shorter, Italian chap.

Supposing she wasn’t going to find out anything by staying in her room, Elvi straightened her shoulders and moved quickly to the door opposite the one she’d been eavesdropping at. She slipped through the dark sun porch attached to her room and hurried down the stairs to the lower deck.

Seven

“Elvi? Is that you? What are you doing in the bushes?”

Cursing under her breath, Elvi stepped out and crossed to where Teddy stood by his police car. Trying not to sound embarrassed at getting caught lurking, she said, “Hi Teddy.”

She tried to decide how to explain her behavior. The truth was, she’d rushed down to the deck and around the house to see what the man called Victor was up to. She’d come around the corner to find him already half a block up the road, headed for Main Street.

Elvi had started to take a step forward to follow, but the blonde and the Italian had come out of the house and she’d ducked into the bushes to avoid being seen. Unfortunately, that was when Teddy had come out heading for the driveway and his car. Of course, he’d spotted her.

“I was, just checking for…er…aphid damage,” she answered lamely.

“Oh.” He looked uncertain, and then glanced toward the house when the door opened and Edward, the blonde with the British accent, came out.

Elvi shifted as he approached. She really had no wish to meet him yet.

“Well,” she said cheerfully, taking a step back. “I have to check the plants at the side of the house. See you later, Teddy.”

Turning abruptly, she hurried around the side of the garage, and then stopped. The street was empty. There was no sign of any of the men anymore. It seemed she wouldn’t be following anyone.

“Damn,” Elvi muttered as she continued on around the house to the entrance to the lower sun porch and passed through the room to reach the back deck again. A glance toward the driveway showed Teddy and Edward pulling out onto the street.

“Oh, there you are!” Mabel stepped out of the kitchen and smiled. “I wondered where you’d got to. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes,” she lied. The truth was she had a bit of a headache, probably caused by frustration, she thought on a sigh.

Mabel nodded, then glanced upward, taking in the starry night. Her gaze then swung to the yard beyond the large deck and she commented, “I was thinking of having a fire.”

“The guests would probably enjoy that,” Elvi murmured.

“They’re all out, I think,” Mabel announced. “Getting their cars.”

Elvi was sure the bearded friend of Victor’s was still in the house, but didn’t say anything and simply followed Mabel to the woodpile to help collect wood.

“Why don’t you go get us some drinks while I get the fire started?” Mabel suggested once they’d moved a small pile over to the fire pit.

Elvi turned away and headed to the house. Mabel was better at starting fires anyway. She had finished pouring the drinks and was just trying to open the kitchen door without spilling them when an arm reached past her and pushed the screen door open.

“Allow me.”

Elvi paused and turned to glance at the man who’d helped her, the bearded friend of Victor’s.

“DJ,” he introduced himself with a grin. “And you’re Elvi.”

She nodded, unable to resist smiling in return despite the blush that rose up on her cheeks. The man’s grin was infectious. “What is DJ short for?”

“Dieudonne Jules,” he answered promptly.

“Dieudonne?” she echoed, thinking it a beautiful name. “You’re the friend, not one of the…er…”

“Suitors,” he supplied gently.

She pulled a face, but nodded.

“Alas, yes, this is true. I’m just here to support a friend,” he said, then sniffed delicately and glanced down at the glasses she held.

“Wine?”

“For Mabel,” she explained.

“It smells good.”

“Yes.” She inhaled the scent and sighed with regret that she couldn’t have it. “It’s the house wine.”

“House wine?” he queried.

“We make it ourselves,” she explained.

“Really?” His eyebrows rose and he asked, “Am I allowed to have a glass?”

Elvi stared, caught by surprise. She’d thought he was a vampire too, but it seemed he was just a mortal, supporting his vampire friend like Mabel.

She’d barely had that thought, when Elvi recalled that he’d been heading off to grab a bag of blood when Victor had left for the car. Thoroughly confused, she opened her mouth to ask what exactly he was when the door to the garage opened and Victor entered.

Elvi’s gaze slid first to his ear and neck, noting the bandage was gone and the wound completely healed, and then her attention slid to the rest of him. She hadn’t paid much attention to his looks earlier; she’d been too upset by the iguana attack, and then startled by his being a vampire. Now she took him in properly, and felt herself inhale deeply. The man was gorgeous. Tall, with wide muscular shoulders and sexy as hell with that longish hair and the tight dark jeans and T-shirt he was wearing.

His most striking feature, however, was his eyes, a startling silver blue color she’d never seen before. They were beautiful, big and framed by long lashes. Women would kill to have his eyes.

“Breathe,” DJ whispered by her ear as he took the glasses from her suddenly shaking hands.

Elvi flushed and forced herself to look away from Victor. Reminded of DJ, she forced herself to concentrate on him and asked, “You want wine?”

He’d said as much, of course, but she was asking again just to be certain she wasn’t misunderstanding anything.

“If it wouldn’t be a bother,” he said with a nod.

“I’ll have one too, if you’re offering,” Victor announced, moving around the counter to join them.

Elvi blinked, but noticed that DJ also appeared surprised by the request as he glanced at his friend.

Victor shrugged at his amazement. “It smells good.”

Elvi wasn’t surprised he could smell it from across the room. Her own senses had become extremely strong after the turn. She was confused, however, by the request.

“Elvi?” Mabel opened the screen door. Her gaze slid suspiciously from DJ to Victor as she stepped inside, and she said, “You were taking so long I started to worry.”

“I’m fine,” Elvi assured her, then turned to glance from one man to the other and repeated carefully, “You want wine?”

When both men nodded, she exchanged a glance with Mabel. The other woman moved closer to her side and both of them crossed their arms over their chests as they eyed the pair.

“So, what’s the joke?” Mabel asked grimly.

When the men raised their eyebrows in question, Elvi shifted impatiently and said, “Vampires don’t consume anything but blood. You aren’t real vampires. So what’s this about? You thought it would be fun to—”

Her words died abruptly when DJ suddenly opened his mouth. His teeth looked perfectly normal…until his canines slid out and down, becoming long, pointy fangs.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“We prefer the term immortals to vampires,” Victor announced as DJ retracted his teeth. “And we can eat and drink things other than blood, though many of us stop out of boredom after several hundred years.”

“We can eat?” Elvi echoed faintly. It was really the only thing he’d said that stuck in her head. “I can eat?”

“You didn’t know?” DJ asked, his teeth now back in place.

“Dracula never ate,” Mabel pointed out, confusion and concern on her face as she peered at Elvi.

“Dracula is a fictional character,” Victor said dryly.

“Elvi, are you all right?” Mabel asked worriedly, touching her arm.

Elvi was silent, her head bowed. When she lifted it, she had to blink to see through the tears blurring her eyes. “I can eat.”

“Yes, honey, it would seem so.” Mabel patted her shoulder.

Elvi closed her eyes, her head spinning. She hadn’t eaten a thing in five years and that more than anything else had set her apart from others. It was only after her turning that she’d realized how much people relied on food for social occasions. Birthdays, weddings, showers…they were celebrated with feasts, or cakes, or some form of food. Friends even met over coffee or drinks. Every meeting between people somehow revolved around food or drink and that had left her always on the outside. Unable to do either, or so she’d thought, her presence at such functions had often left the others feeling uncomfortable and guilty as they ate or drank in front of her.

That was the emotional side of it. The other side was that Elvi loved food. She always had. She loved the smell, the look, the texture, the taste. She loved to cook and she loved to eat. Going without the last five years had been like some sort of torture. Needless torture if what these two men said was true. She could eat.

That thought screamed through her head like a banshee, drowning out every other thought in her head with its howling. Elvi suddenly turned to the refrigerator and dragged the door open, only to stare at the contents with dismay.

“Oh, Mabel,” she moaned unhappily.

“What?” The woman moved to her side, but seemed to understand the moment her eyes moved over the refrigerator contents. Voice apologetic, she said, “I’m on that diet Dr. Wilburs put me on.”

Elvi just stood shaking her head mournfully. Her mind was shrieking cheesecake and the refrigerator held nothing but green things; lettuce, celery, spinach, broccoli. She so wasn’t having something green and healthy as her first food in five years.

“I need to go to the grocery store,” she decided, slamming the fridge door closed.

“What?” Mabel asked with surprise. “The grocery store is closed at this hour.”

“Not A&P,” she said, pushing through the trio to hurry around the counter. “It’s open twenty-four hours.” Stopping at the door to the garage, she whirled around and asked, “Where are the car keys?”

“Just a minute, I’ll go with you,” Mabel said abruptly. “I just have to find my shoes and purse and—”

“What about the fire?” Elvi asked. She really didn’t want to have to wait while Mabel got ready. The woman would insist on changing, and freshening her lipstick, then she wouldn’t remember where she’d left her purse and so on, and by the time she was ready to go, Elvi could have been and returned and eaten half a cheesecake.

“Oh, damn. I forgot about the fire,” Mabel muttered. “I can’t leave it unattended.”

“That’s okay,” Elvi assured her. “I can drive myself. I won’t be long.”

“You won’t be driving your car. The garage door is blocked by my car,” Victor announced, moving toward her. “I’ll take you. DJ can stay here and help Mabel with the fire.”

“I don’t need any damned help with the fire,” Mabel said with irritation.

“I’m sure you don’t,” DJ said soothingly, then grinned and added, “but I bet between the two of us, we can make it burn hotter.”

Silence fell briefly in the room. Mabel appeared too stunned by the suggestive comment to respond. Victor appeared a bit surprised himself. As for Elvi, while she was a little startled by it as well, the thought of food was on her mind and crowding out everything else. She wasn’t going to get into whatever was going on between DJ and Mabel, and she wasn’t going to argue about Victor driving her to the store either.

“Let’s go,” Elvi said abruptly and charged out of the house. She felt absolutely no guilt at abandoning Mabel to DJ’s tender mercies. It was Mabel who five years ago had pointed out that vampires don’t eat and insisted Elvi not even try because she didn’t want to “hold her head when she vomited it back up.” At that moment, she was blaming Mabel for five years of missed cheesecake, ice cream, and chocolate.

“Cheesecake, ice cream, chocolate,” she muttered, charging through the garage and to the side door.

“Is that your grocery list?” Victor asked, sounding amused as he followed her out onto the sidewalk that ran around the garage to the driveway.

“Part of it,” Elvi acknowledged, scurrying around to the driveway, only to come to an abrupt halt. The car she supposed must be his was there, a big, silver BMW. But two more cars were presently pulling into the driveway. The Italian and the German were back and blocking in his car.

Victor took one look at Elvi’s face and moved past her to the driver’s door of the car behind his.

“Harper, don’t turn off the engine,” he said, pulling the driver’s door open. “This is an emergency. We need to get this lady to A&P, but you’re blocking my car and I don’t think she can wait for you to move it. Will you drive us?”

“Of course.” Harper smiled at Elvi through the window and redid the seat belt he’d just undone.

“Thanks.” Slamming the door closed, Victor waved Elvi forward and moved to open the back door.

“I’m coming too,” the Italian announced as he got out of his own car. She didn’t care. They could all come if they wished…so long as they didn’t slow her down. The very idea of something sweet and silky filling her mouth, coating her taste buds and sliding down her throat to her barren stomach, was threatening to make her drool like a baby.

“What kind of emergency is it?” the Italian asked, slipping into the backseat on the passenger’s side even as Elvi climbed in through the opposite door.

“Cheesecake,” she answered abruptly, squeezing up against the man to make room as Victor followed her into the backseat.

“Comfy?” Harper asked dryly, peering at them in the rearview mirror from where he sat alone in the front.

Elvi grimaced, but didn’t complain or suggest anyone move to the front so Harper wasn’t left alone like a chauffeur. She just wanted to get moving.

Harper shrugged and shifted the car into gear, started to reverse, then stopped abruptly as another car pulled in behind them, cutting them off.

“Edward,” Victor muttered craning his neck to peer out the back window. He gestured to the man through the window and yelled, “Get out of the way!”

Rather than do as instructed, the man got out of his car.

“Where is everyone going?” he asked politely, eyes sharpening as he peered into the backseat and saw Elvi there.

“We have to get to the A&P,” Harper told him. “Move your car so we can get out.”

Edward hesitated, and then said, “Wouldn’t it be easier just to take my car? It’s got larger seats.”

“Fine!” Elvi said with exasperation. It would probably be just as quick as waiting for him to get back in the car and back out anyway, she thought. Elvi would have crawled right over Victor to get out of the claustrophobic vehicle if he weren’t already heaving a sigh and opening the door. She waited impatiently for him to get out, scrambled out behind him and hurried after him to the vehicle blocking Harper’s.

It was a BMW like Vincent’s but black. It was also huge and definitely had more seating room. Elvi crawled in, meeting the Italian again as he too climbed into the backseat. Larger though it was, it was still cramped once Vincent climbed in and pulled the door closed. These men were big. She still felt a little like a sardine in a can.

Sensing that Alessandro was peering at her, she turned a questioning gaze his way.

“Déjà vu, eh?” he said with a grin, pulling his door closed.

Despite her impatience to get to the grocery store, Elvi found herself grinning in response.

“I am Alessandro Cipriano,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand. Once she’d shook it, he gestured to the blond now climbing into the front passenger seat, “and this is Harpernus Stoyan.”

“Call me Harper.” The man turned to offer his hand as well, in a quick shake, then reached for his seat belt.

“And I am Edward Kenric,” their driver announced as he finished with his own seat belt and shifted into reverse.

“I suppose Victor introduced himself properly while you were tending his injury,” Harper said, shifting to sit sideways in his seat so he could see her.

“No.” Elvi glanced sideways at the man whose lap she was nearly seated on. Dear Lord, all of these men were big. She’d think it was a result of being vampires, but she hadn’t suddenly shot up to six feet tall, and gained bigger boobs, so supposed it was purely the result of their gene pool.

“Victor Argeneau,” Harper introduced him properly.

Elvi and Victor exchanged a nod.

“And you are, I hope, Elvi Black?” Harper said.

“Yes.” She blushed, suddenly recalling that all these men were here to court her. She wanted to blurt that she hadn’t posted the ad, but feared they might not believe her.

“Where are we going?” Edward asked.

“Turn left,” Elvi instructed, realizing that he’d backed up and turned around and was now paused at the mouth of the driveway unsure which way to go. “We’re going to A&P.”

“A&P,” Edward murmured as he came to a halt at the red light on the corner. “What is the emergency exactly?”

“Cheesecake,” Alessandro answered, then shrugged when the British man turned sharp eyes on him. “It’s what she said when I asked.”

“Turn right here,” Elvi muttered with embarrassment. The light was still red, but there was no traffic coming from the sides.

Edward shifted back to face the road and turned as instructed.

“It’s straight up this road several blocks,” she said. “It’s on the left side. I’ll warn you when we get close.”

Elvi then sat back and tried not to tap her fingers on her knee as Edward Kenric drove up the street at a ridiculously slow speed.

“The speed limit here is fifty kilometers an hour,” she informed him when she couldn’t stand it any longer.

Kenric cut his eyes to hers in the rearview mirror. He didn’t spit out the sharp words she sensed he wanted to, but did pick up speed…a little. Elvi could have wept with frustration. She was sure he was only going thirty. She could have run there faster than this…carrying one of the men.

Aware that the silence in the car wasn’t only her own, Elvi glanced curiously around at the men. All of them but Edward seemed to be staring at her, though even Edward kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

She shifted uncomfortably, then sighed and said, “I didn’t put the ad in the paper. Mabel did. I didn’t even know what she was up to until tonight.”

“We know,” Harper informed her gently. “We found that out tonight at the restaurant.”

“Oh.” She shifted. They were still staring at her, but she hadn’t a clue what to say to make them stop…short of telling them to, and that seemed rude when they were all rushing to get her to the A&P and cheesecake. Well, all but Edward. He seemed to be a Sunday driver. Why the damned man hadn’t just moved his stupid car and let Harper drive, she didn’t know. Obviously a control freak, she decided. Good-looking, but he had issues. And he wasn’t too bright either. A smart man wouldn’t stand between a woman and cheesecake.

A choking sound drew her eyes to the back of Edward’s head with alarm. If he had some sort of seizure and delayed her getting to the grocery store…Honestly!

A chuckle from the Italian made her glance his way and she frowned slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, and then asked, “What do you think of me so far?”

“I don’t know you,” Elvi said, bewildered by the question.

“No, of course not,” he murmured, but watched her almost expectantly.

Shaking her head, Elvi glanced out the front window again to see how far away they were, but now that the man had asked the question, she couldn’t seem to help but think about it. What did she think of him? He seemed all right so far from what she could tell. He was certainly good-looking, and those eyes of his! She’d never seen golden brown eyes before. They were almost as beautiful as Victor’s.

Her gaze slid to Harper. He was a handsome man too with his golden hair and silver-green eyes. All four of the men in the car were attractive, but of the four of them she would have said Victor appealed to her the most. She couldn’t say why and didn’t care to ponder the matter. Besides, they’d reached the grocery store…finally.

And Edward was driving past, she realized with horror. Sitting forward, she shrieked, “Here!” Then cried out in surprise as Edward stomped on the brakes and sent everyone slamming backward in their seats.

There was a moment of startled silence in the car, and then Edward turned slowly in his seat and cast a cold glare her way. “Ms. Black. In the future, you might try to avoid screeching in the driver’s ear whilst giving directions. It can be quite alarming.”

“Sorry,” she said meekly. The man could be quite scary when he chose to be.

“She gets the point, Edward. Just pull in here.” Victor’s voice was harsh and commanding and Edward responded to it, though not before she saw annoyance flicker across his face.

Releasing the breath she’d been holding once he’d stopped glaring at her, Elvi took a cautious breath and offered Victor a grateful smile, then turned to glance questioningly at Alessandro when he tapped her arm.

“You like me, no?” he asked with a grin when she met his gaze.

Elvi stared at him in confusion, and then followed his gaze when he glanced down, realizing only then that when Edward had slammed on the brakes, she’d grabbed the man’s knee and was still clutching it for dear life.

A surprised squeak slipped from her lips, and she immediately released his knee, only to realize she was clutching Victor’s with her other hand as well. Reclaiming that straying hand too, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead at the A&P sign like it was a beacon in the dark.

“Cheesecake, chocolate, ice cream,” she muttered under her breath. Nothing else would matter once she had those.

Eight

“She was serious. The emergency is cheesecake?” Edward sounded incredulous as he watched Elvi hover indecisively over the cake counter.

“She hasn’t eaten in five years,” Victor muttered distractedly as he stood at her side, eyeing the cakes with interest.

“Why not?” Harper asked.

“She didn’t know she could,” he answered absently.

“What?” Alessandro sounded horrified. “Who is your sire, bella? I would talk to him about this. To leave you in such ignorance…”

Elvi ignored him. She had no idea what Alessandro was nattering on about with such outrage. She had no idea what a sire was and couldn’t be bothered to sort it out at this point. Didn’t he know she needed food?

Elvi had nearly fallen flat on her face in her rush to get out of the car. Only a steadying hand from Victor had kept her upright. Gasping a “thank you” she’d charged for the store, rushing ahead and leaving the men to trail her or not as they liked. It was late enough that the store was nearly empty, which meant lots of carts were all lined up at the front waiting for her.

Elvi had tugged one free and pushed it to the back of the store at a near run, drawing the eye of the few people stacking shelves. They’d glanced her way, and then done a double take when they saw who it was. Elvi had managed a smile for each in passing, knowing that what was startling them was that she was shopping…like a real person.

Elvi had arrived at the counter well ahead of the men, but now as they reached her, she still stood hemming and hawing over her choices. This was a serious issue. Her first food in five years. She hoped it tasted the same.

That thought drew her up short. Blood tasted different to her now. What if food did? While she’d lived, blood had been a tinny, nasty thing, but now it was yummy. What if foods that had seemed so yummy when she was alive, now seemed flat and tasteless in death?

A test was necessary, she decided. She wasn’t going to drag home food she couldn’t even enjoy, but would be left to stare at in mournful depression. She needed to try something and see what it tasted like, but what?

“Elvi?” Victor sounded concerned as he moved to her side. “Are you all right?”

“I need something,” she muttered.

“What do you need?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but notice Victor sounded rather cautious, as if he were approaching a possibly rabid animal…or a madwoman.

She was too distracted to care. Besides, he obviously didn’t understand. She was a woman who hadn’t eaten in five years. Five. That was one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days. That was five thousand, four hundred and seventy-five meals. Actually, more than that since it would be six years this winter. In just a couple months really. How many meals had it been exactly? Elvi wondered and started to do the math and then pushed it aside as unimportant. She hadn’t eaten. She wanted food. She was a woman with a mission.

“Can I help you with something, Elvi?”

She glanced to the side and smiled as she recognized the fresh-faced young blonde in the grocery store uniform. Dawn Geoffreys, the granddaughter of a friend.

“Yes, dear,” Elvi said brightening. “I need something small to try.”

“To try?” Dawn asked with confusion, then her eyes widened with amazement. “You mean like to eat?”

“Yes. These men say I can eat, but I want to try something small first to…” Her voice trailed away as her gaze slid past the girl to the older woman approaching.

“Mrs. Ricci,” she said with surprise, and then glanced at her wristwatch. It was the middle of the night. Far past the elderly lady’s bedtime, she was sure. Leonora Ricci was in her eighties. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I don’t sleep very well anymore, dear,” Mrs. Ricci answered serenely. “I’m in bed by nine and up by two and looking for something to do. I’ve found this is the best time to shop. No one shops at this hour…Usually,” she added with a smile and then glanced at the men surrounding Elvi and asked, “I’m guessing these are your beaus?”

“Oh, yes.” Elvi blushed, and quickly introduced them.

Mrs. Ricci greeted each pleasantly and then commented, “Little Teddy was telling me about you boys. I hope you treat our Elvi right. None of that love-the-mand-leave-them nonsense kids get into nowadays.”

When the men quickly murmured assurances of their good intentions, Mrs. Ricci nodded and turned to Elvi. “I heard you say you wanted something small as I came up. Why not a cookie, dear?”

She gestured to the table behind her stacked with clear boxes of freshly baked cookies and Elvi smiled. A cookie. So simple and perfect! Stepping up to the table, she slid her gaze over the selection: Oatmeal, Chocolate Chip, Double Chocolate Fudge, Hermit Cookies, Shortbread, S’Mores, Butterscotch Chocolate Chip—

“White Chocolate Strawberry cookies?” Elvi read the last selection with interest. “These are new. I don’t remember those from when I used to eat.”

“Oh, yes.” Dawn hurried to her side. “They’re new. They’re really yummy too.”

“Perfect.” Elvi slit the seal, opened the container and snatched out a cookie, then hesitated almost afraid to try it. Finally, she raised it cautiously to her nose and sniffed delicately. God, it smelled good! She inhaled more deeply.

“Try it,” Mrs. Ricci said. “We are all curious now.”

Elvi peered back at the cookie and bit her lip, then said, “But what if food doesn’t taste the same anymore? What if it’s like dust in my mouth? How disappointing would that be?”

“Oh.” Dawn’s smile faded, and then she turned to the men. “Will it?”

“No, of course not,” Victor snapped impatiently. “It will taste just as good as before. Better even. Your taste buds are more sensitive just like everything else. Didn’t your sire teach you anything?”

Elvi had lost interest in his words after the bit about taste buds being more sensitive just like everything else. Her hearing was ten times better, as was her physical strength and speed, but her taste buds too?

“Try it, Elvi,” Mrs. Ricci urged again.

Elvi took a breath, then lifted the cookie to her lips, closed her eyes, and took a bite. Her eyes immediately shot open with amazed delight. She was just holding the cookie in her mouth, almost afraid to chew, but it was enough for her taste buds. They went wild. The only way to describe it would be an oral orgasm. After five years of a blood-only diet, this sweet, savory explosion in her mouth made every taste bud stand up, then do somersaults across her tongue.

“Good?” Dawn asked hopefully.

“Mmmmmmmm,” Elvi answered on a long moan. “Mmm, mmm, mmmmmmmm.”

A chuckle drew her eyes to Alessandro. He was grinning at her with delight. Actually, she saw, all the men were smiling at her indulgently…except for Edward.

“If it wouldn’t be too much excitement for your senses,” Edward said dryly, “perhaps you should try chewing and swallow—”

Elvi shoved the rest of the cookie in his open mouth. She watched him closely as she began to chew her own and reached for another to replace the one Edward was now trying to spit out. Then he paused, his mouth working as his taste buds tasted.

“These are quite good,” he said with surprise.

Elvi smiled around the cookie in her own mouth, and then offered the cookie box to Mrs. Ricci.

“Can I try one?” Alessandro asked curiously, and then explained, “I haven’t eaten for fifty years, but you seem to enjoy it so much…”

“Fifty years!” Mrs. Ricci repeated with dismay. “Someone needs to feed you, son. You come see me if you get hungry. I live across the street from Elvi and I always have something cooking.”

Elvi smiled and held the box out to Alessandro, her eyebrows rising when he, Harper, and even Victor immediately reached in to take a cookie each. Seeing the envious expression on Dawn’s face, Elvi held the box out to her as well, bringing a smile to the girl’s face.

Having finished the half a cookie he’d got, Edward reached for another and frowned at how few were left. “I think we should get more of these.”

“Definitely,” Harper said with a smile as he finished his own cookie. “These really are quite good.”

“Yes, they are,” Mrs. Ricci said and moved to the table to collect a box of her own and put it in her basket. She then wished them good evening before continuing on with her own shopping.

The moment she was gone, the men moved to the table, each grabbing a couple of boxes. Elvi grabbed another cookie from the open pack before setting it in the cart, then moved happily back to the cake counter to survey the selection with greedy eyes. Cheesecake, Carrot Cake, a Chocolate Bomb, Black Forest Cake, Lemon Supreme, Cherry Surprise…They all looked good to her.

“So?” Alessandro followed and peered at the cakes with interest. “What is good here?”

“I can’t decide!” Elvi admitted with dismay. She wanted them all, but couldn’t possibly eat it all and so thought choosing two or three would be better, but which two or three?

“You said you wanted cheesecake,” Victor reminded her. “Cheesecake, ice cream, and chocolate.”

“Yes, but that Caramel Crunch looks yummy too, and which chocolate one? The Chocolate Bomb, the Black Forest cake, or the Fudge Surprise? And look at that carrot cake. It’s a masterpiece,” she crooned.

Victor surveyed the cakes she’d pointed out with a frown, and then shrugged. “Take them all.”

“All of them?” she squeaked, torn between hope and horror at the gluttonous thought.

“Why not? You have five years to make up for.”

“Victor’s right, and we will help you eat them,” Harper announced. Stepping forward, he picked up the cheesecake and handed it to Alessandro, then picked up the Chocolate Bomb and Black Forest cake. Victor then picked up the Fudge Surprise and Caramel Crunch.

Elvi surveyed the cakes that were left, then bit her lip and quickly picked up the Cherry Supreme too.

“I like cherries,” she said apologetically.

“Ice cream?” Victor asked.

“Oh, yes.” Turning, she carefully set her cakes in the cart, and then led the way to the frozen section, pausing abruptly as she passed an end aisle of Mexican food; tacos, seasoning and so on. Elvi absolutely loved Mexican food. She had been cooking it and around it for five years without being able to take even a lick. She stared at the end aisle, her mind in a veritable swoon. She could make tacos, or chimichangas, or, ohhhhhh, fajitas. She’d need steak…or maybe chicken. And tomatoes and onions and cheese and—

“I believe we’ll be needing another cart,” Edward murmured and turned away to go find one. Elvi hardly noticed his leaving, she was adjusting the grocery list in her head.

“I don’t think there is enough room for everything,” Alessandro announced with a frown as Edward opened the trunk of the BMW.

“We can put some in the backseat with us, and maybe the front seat too,” Elvi suggested, lifting bags out of the first of their three carts. She knew she’d gone a little overboard with the groceries, but really the men hadn’t been any help at all, encouraging her as if they were on the Devil’s payroll, sent to tempt her into committing the third of the seven deadly sins: gluttony.

Anytime Elvi had debated over two items, they’d simply taken both from her and put them in the cart. And then they’d picked up an item or two themselves, things that caught their eye or interest. Dawn had rung them through her till, her eyes wide the whole time, and Elvi knew this story would be broadcast all over town by breakfast.

As would the fact that when the total had come up, Elvi had reached for her purse only to find that she’d rushed out of the house so quickly, she hadn’t brought it with her. Guessing at the problem from her dismayed grasping at the thin air where her purse should have been, four men’s hands had suddenly appeared before her, each holding a credit card.

Victor had ended up doing the honors, glaring at the others until they put away their own cards and wallets.

“It’s bigger than it looks,” Harper said as they fit the last bag into the trunk. “Perhaps I should look into getting one of these.”

Elvi didn’t comment, but did wonder what these men did. Two owned cars that probably cost more than her house and another was casually considering getting one. Come to think of it, the roadster Alessandro had stepped out of hadn’t been cheap either. It seemed Mabel had only picked the wealthier vampires for her.

Elvi’s glance caught on a car pulling into the parking lot, and stared, sure she recognized it as it parked under the lights. When the driver opened the door and got out, she caught her breath, and hissed, “Duck!”

Much to her relief, the men paid heed and ducked next to her behind Edward’s BMW. All but Victor, Elvi realized when she glanced to her side.

Looking down at where they crouched on the ground, Victor asked, “Is there a problem?”

“No.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him down with them. “Just someone I’d rather avoid.”

“That wouldn’t be Father O’Flaherty, would it?” Victor asked dryly.

Elvi was surprised that he knew who the man was, but said, “He’s really a dear old thing, but he hasn’t taken my turning as well as the others. It’s understandable, I guess.”

“Is it?” Victor asked grimly.

“Well, he’s a minister and I’m a vampire,” she said simply.

Victor muttered something under his breath and straightened.

“Hey,” Elvi hissed and stood upright to catch at his arm, then paused when she saw that Father O’Flaherty was entering the grocery store. “Oh…I guess we can go.”

Elvi spent the ride home trying to figure out what she would eat first. It was a difficult decision, but didn’t feel as urgent as her need to get to the grocery store had been. She and the men had eaten six boxes of the cookies as they’d gone through the grocery store. Now Elvi was feeling almost uncomfortably full, both her head and stomach aching. It was just her brain that still wanted more.

“Dear God! What did you do? Buy out the grocery store?” Mabel exclaimed, entering the kitchen from the deck with DJ on her heels as Elvi entered from the garage with the men in tow. All of them were loaded down with grocery bags.

“I couldn’t make up my mind,” Elvi said with embarrassment as the men began to set down their burdens.

“We’ll get the rest,” Victor announced and led the men back out through the garage.

“There’s more?” Mabel asked with dismay. “Elvi, where are we going to put all this? We only have two refrigerators.”

“It’s not all perishable,” Elvi assured her, grabbing up a bag with ice cream and moving to the freezer. “The rest is mostly boxes and cans. We just brought the cold stuff in first so it wouldn’t go bad.”

Mabel was shaking her head, but bent to pick up a bag and help.

“I hope you don’t intend to eat all of this at once,” she said with concern as she began to empty the bag she’d picked up. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“No, of course not,” Elvi assured her, and was pretty sure it was true. She wanted to eat something, but she really was quite full. She supposed after five years with nothing in it, her stomach had shrunk to the size of a pea and she’d stretched it out with the cookies. Did she really want to stretch it further?

Yes, came the resounding answer in her head. Just a little further. Something small. But what? she wondered as the men returned with the rest of the groceries.

Elvi tried not to feel guilty at the excess of food as they continued unpacking. Instead she concentrated on what she should eat. Where should she start? Cheesecake? Chocolate? Ice cream? Soft tacos? Spaghetti? Steak? Pepperoni? Knockwurst? Everything was sounding good to her.

“Perhaps a selection of the cheese and crackers,” Alessandro murmured, his expression sympathetic as he watched her peer at the groceries with confusion. “That and the nice glass of wine by the fire.”

“Cheese,” Elvi murmured with relief. That was close to cheesecake, but better for her, wasn’t it? But not too healthy…And crackers were supposed to be good for settling the stomach.

“Good idea, Alessandro,” she said with a smile.

With Mabel and the men helping, it was no time before the bags were empty and the cupboards and refrigerators bursting with food.

“Elvi, you and the men pour yourselves some wine and take it out to sit by the fire,” Mabel suggested once they were done. “I’ll fix up some cheese and crackers and bring them out.”

“I can help,” Elvi protested.

“You can help most by going out and sitting with the men and leaving me some room to work,” Mabel said firmly, her expression pointed. It was only then that Elvi recalled that she was supposed to be getting to know these men and possibly picking a mate. She’d been so wrapped up in food for the last little bit, she’d quite forgotten that embarrassing little tidbit.

“Here.” DJ moved to the wine rack, selected three bottles, and handed them to the men, then fetched wineglasses and a corkscrew as if he’d lived in the house for a week already. Passing out the various items, he waved them to the door. “Go sit by the fire and get acquainted. I’ll help Mabel with the tray.”

“I don’t need any help,” Mabel growled.

Ignoring her, DJ began to herd them toward the door. “Go on.”

An odd smile tugging at his lips, Victor took Elvi’s arm and steered her to the door. “Shout if you need help.”

DJ just grinned as he watched them leave.

“This is nice,” Harper commented moments later as they were finally settled around the metal fire pit in the backyard. The fire had been dying out by the time they’d collected chairs from the garage and set them up around the fire. Harper and Alessandro had brought it back to flaming life while Edward, Elvi, and Victor had tended to opening the wine and pouring the glasses.

“Yes,” Elvi murmured, staring at the fire through the red wine in her glass.

Mabel and DJ came out moments later with a tray piled with every one of the six cheeses Elvi and the men had picked at the grocery store and at least as many types of crackers piled on a tray. There were also small paper plates for each of them. The group tried the various offerings, commenting on what was good and what was not and various other things.

When the tray was empty, Mabel picked it up and stood.

“I’ll get that, Mabel. Sit down,” Elvi said as she turned away.

“That’s okay. I’m heading off to bed anyway,” Mabel said. “You should probably too, soon.”

Elvi frowned and glanced at her watch. It was after five A.M. The sun would soon be up, she realized with some surprise, and then acknowledged that she shouldn’t be. The restaurant didn’t close until two A.M. because of the bar, and then there’d been the house tour, the collecting of cars, and the hour at the grocery store before they’d settled around the fire. The time had seemed to fly by.

Sighing with regret that the first interesting night she’d had in a long time was coming to a close, Elvi collected her wineglass and moved to the fire to dampen it down.

“I’ll get that,” DJ offered, urging her out of the way.

“Thank you,” Elvi murmured, then glanced at the other men to offer a goodnight before slipping away to follow Mabel.

“Well?” the other woman asked as she entered the kitchen.

“They seem nice,” she admitted wryly, then laughed and said, “but what did you do, pick the wealthiest and best-looking only?”

“Only the best for my Elvi,” Mabel proclaimed.

“What would I do without you?” Elvi asked with a laugh and gave her a hug. “Now, go to bed. It’s well past your bedtime.”

Nodding, Mabel started out of the room, then paused suddenly and turned back. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you…”

“What?” Elvi prompted as she opened the dishwasher and bent to place her wineglass inside.

“When we were at the restaurant, that Argeneau fellow touched my cross,” Mabel said quietly. “And nothing happened.”

“He did?” she asked with amazement. She hadn’t dared enter a church or touch anything religious since her turning for fear of bursting into flames or some such thing like in the movies.

Mabel nodded. “You might want to ask him about that tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Elvi murmured as Mabel continued out of the room.

Closing the dishwasher door, she made her way upstairs. It was late, or early as the case may be, and she knew she should go to bed, but instead found herself wandering through her room to the attached sunroom. Leaving the lights out, she moved to the window and peered down at the half-circle of men around the dying flames. Their voices drifted up to her through the night as Elvi stood watching them. One of them might be a mate for her, she thought with disbelief, and still wasn’t sure she was ready for another relationship. It had hurt so much to lose her husband and daughter….

On the bright side, she supposed she wouldn’t have to worry about being widowed again with any of these men. They, like her, were already dead.

Grimacing, Elvi moved to sit on the wicker couch. Drawing her feet up under her, she closed her eyes and savored the best day she’d had in five years.

She could eat.

She would no longer feel like an outsider at social functions. If nothing else happened this week, Elvi would be grateful for that.

A tap at the sunroom door made her start and Elvi glanced over sharply to see Victor standing outside the glass door. Her heart immediately started hammering in her chest and she could actually feel her hands growing sweaty. Squeezing those hands closed, she forced herself to take a deep breath. This reaction to the man was beyond disturbing. She’d like to blame it on some chemical reaction to special pheromones put out by a male vampire, but she didn’t seem to have this reaction to the other male vampires now in her home. Elvi almost wished she did. She was too damned old to be acting like a love-struck teenager. Unfortunately, while she was sixty-two years old, she looked twenty-five and he made her feel about sixteen.

Shaking her head at herself, Elvi stood and moved to open the door. She managed what she hoped was a politely inquiring expression and waited for him to speak, afraid that if she opened her mouth it would just be to blurt out something stupid.

“You forgot your ankle bracelet.” He held out one hand, opening it to reveal the belled anklet cradled in his fingers. Elvi had taken it off by the fire when the constant jangle had finally got to her. She’d set it on the ground beside her chair and apparently left it there.

“Thank you,” she murmured, blushing when she saw the way her fingers were trembling as she took it from him.

As she slid the anklet into her pocket, Victor raised his other hand, revealing two wineglasses and a half-bottle of wine. He had the bottle by the neck and the two delicate goblets by the stems, all caught in the fingers of one hand. “This is all that’s left. It seems a shame to waste it. It should be just enough for two glasses, I think.”

Elvi almost said no and closed the door to avoid the discomfort she felt in his presence, but there were so many questions she wanted to ask…besides, as uncomfortable as she was with her attraction to him, it also made her want to be near him. Relieving him of the two goblets, she moved aside for him to enter.

“This is nice,” he murmured, peering around the sunroom.

Elvi followed his gaze over the wicker furniture in the dark. The only light came from the open door to her room, but she expected his eyesight was as sharp as her own. This soft glow was more than enough to see by. She supposed it was how he’d known she was up here.

“How are you feeling?” Victor asked, settling on the couch and holding out a hand for the glasses.

“A little woozy,” Elvi admitted quietly as she handed them over. “I haven’t had a drop to drink in five years, and it went straight to my head. In fact, I suppose I really shouldn’t have any more.”

“One more should be all right,” he said quietly, pouring the wine. He handed her a glass, picked up the other, and sat back to peer at her.

The silence that filled the room as they sipped their wine seemed to dance along Elvi’s nerves. She was terribly aware of his nearness and the delicious male scent of him. She didn’t know what aftershave he wore, but she’d like to buy some and sprinkle it in her coffin so she could bury her face in the satin pillow and breathe it in all night long while she slept.

“It seems obvious that you haven’t been trained properly in what you can and can’t do. Why is that?”

Victor’s sudden question sent Elvi’s ponderings of his aftershave flying and she stiffened as she took in his words. It was obvious she hadn’t been trained? There was training for vampires? Like a vampire boot camp or something?

“What do you mean?” she asked finally, and then sat up a little straighter as she realized he was saying she appeared as ignorant as she felt. “What gave me away?”

Victor arched an eyebrow. “For one, you thought you couldn’t eat food.”

“Oh, yes.” Elvi flushed. She supposed that was an obvious giveaway, but really, how was she supposed to know what she could and couldn’t do? None of the vampires ever ate or drank anything but blood in the movies and television shows. At least not the ones she and Mabel had seen when Elvi had first turned and they’d done all their research.

“And,” Victor added solemnly, drawing her attention back to him, “you obviously don’t realize it is against our laws to bite mortals.”

Elvi stiffened with alarm. “What? We have laws?”

Victor nodded solemnly.

Elvi sat still, her mind whirling. Laws suggested some form of organization. It also seemed to suggest there were more of their kind than she’d thought. Questions began to whirl through her mind, but were pushed aside in favor of this business of breaking a vampire law. Elvi hadn’t ever in her life broken a law. She’d never even so much as jaywalked. It didn’t sit well that she’d unknowingly broken one.

“I didn’t realize it was against our laws,” she said quickly. “In fact, I didn’t know there were laws. I wasn’t even sure there were others like me.”

“I was afraid of that,” Victor said, then cursed under his breath.

“You said ‘laws.’ Plural,” she murmured. “What other laws are there?”

Victor opened his mouth, and then shook his head. “There’s no sense telling you now. You’ve been drinking for the first time in years and I’d probably just have to repeat them in the evening when you wake up.”

Elvi opened her mouth to protest, but he assured her, “I’ll tell you all about them after you’ve slept.”

When she settled back in her seat with resignation, he smiled faintly and added, “Speaking of which, I should probably let you get to bed.”

Victor stood and moved to the door. Elvi followed, her gaze dropping of its own accord to his behind. She managed to force it back up as he stepped through the door onto the top step and turned back to say, “Before I go, though, I do need the answer to one question.”

“Yes?” she asked curiously.

“Who was your sire?”

Elvi frowned. “What exactly is a sire?” she asked with bewilderment. “Both you and Alessandro have mentioned that word and I haven’t a clue what it means.”

“It means the one who made you,” he explained. “The one who turned you into an immortal.”

“Oh,” Elvi smiled faintly. She had a feeling she’d heard the phrase before this, probably when she and Mabel had been researching vampires right after their return from Mexico, but as it didn’t apply to her, she’d let it slip her mind.

Realizing he was waiting for an answer, Elvi shook her head. “I didn’t have a sire.”

Victor stared at her nonplussed. “You had to have a sire…unless…” He paused, then asked doubtfully, “You weren’t born an immortal?”

Elvi laughed at the idea. “No, of course not. Five years ago I had gray hair and wrinkles,” she assured him. “But no one sired me.”

“Someone had to,” he insisted.

Elvi peered past him at the lightening sky, her mind automatically going back to the period around her own death. It was a time she didn’t like to think about, and in truth was a terrible blur. All she remembered clearly was that she’d bitten Mabel and nearly killed her while out of her head.

“Mabel and I went to Mexico,” she said finally. “We were in a car accident and I woke up several days later like this.” Elvi forced a smile, shifting uncomfortably when he stared at her with incomprehension. “I guess you could say I’m an accidental vampire.”

Forcing a smile, she murmured good night and pulled the door closed before he could say anything more. Elvi didn’t like to think about that time in her life and liked even less to talk about it.

Slipping the lock closed, she turned and entered her bedroom, grimacing at the sight of the coffin waiting there. She had a bit of a headache, and her tummy was uncomfortably full, but she was relaxed for the first time in years, thanks to the wine, and she was feeling a little less like a freak with so many of her kind around, yet had to sleep in that blasted thing.

Muttering under her breath, Elvi ignored the dark wooden casket and moved into the bathroom. She wanted a bath before bed, but it was late enough that she’d have to make do with a quick wash. Afraid of collapsing into the semi death that daylight was supposed to bring vampires, Elvi had never risked being out of her coffin after dawn. She wasn’t taking the chance to-night either. But tomorrow she would ask Victor what else she could and couldn’t do.

Frowning as she rinsed the soap from her face, Elvi realized it hadn’t even occurred to her that she could ask her questions of any of the men in her home, that all of them would know the answers. She simply automatically thought to ask Victor. She wasn’t sure if that was representative of a comfort level with him she hadn’t reached with the others yet, or a simple preference in dealing with him, but suspected it was both. That knowledge was enough to make her suddenly reluctant to ask her questions of him, but it was becoming woefully obvious that despite being a vampire for five years, she was terribly ignorant of what she could and couldn’t do. Who knew there were laws and so on? No, she had to ask her questions, and if she was going to ask anyone, it would be Victor.

She’d ask him about coffins first and then move on to things like the ability to slip into others’ minds. The conversation she’d overheard between Alessandro and Harper had her curious. Could she read minds and control others as Alessandro had suggested Edward may have done with Mabel?

Mabel had insisted Elvi try to read minds and so on when she’d first changed. After all, Dracula could apparently do it, but Elvi hadn’t been able to manage the task and had decided that only he, as the king of vampires, could do it. But if Edward could do it too, maybe she just hadn’t tried long enough.

Mabel had also wanted to go to Transylvania and find Dracula, though she’d been sure the name would be different. Mabel had really been into the vampire thing, but then she wasn’t the one who’d been turned. She’d wanted to be, at first asking Elvi to turn her as well so they could both be vampires. However, no matter how many times Elvi had bitten her, or how much blood she took, the other woman hadn’t turned. Elvi had finally insisted they stop trying when she’d nearly killed her by taking too much blood.

She was glad she’d given it up when two years ago, Mabel had confessed she was really rather glad it hadn’t worked. After seeing all that Elvi had lost—food, wine, enjoying the garden in daylight, trips to the beach, barbecues with friends, and so on, she thought perhaps it wasn’t such a great deal.

Aside from all those things, Elvi had found herself faced with a myriad of legal problems as well since the change. ID for instance. Passports, driver’s licenses, and health cards had to be renewed every so often. All of them had expired within two years of her change. As for replacing them? Forget about it.

According to all her ID she was sixty-two. She didn’t look sixty-two. It would have been a problem. Fortunately, she no longer needed a health card, but traveling was out of the question without a passport.

Her driver’s license had also lapsed, but Elvi hadn’t bothered to renew it even though she could have done so here in town where they knew her and wouldn’t question her being sixty-two but looking twenty-five. Renewing it hadn’t seemed worth the trouble, however. She could pretty much walk everywhere in Port Henry, but if she needed the car to collect groceries or something, Teddy and Barney wouldn’t have given her a hard time. Other than that, she simply didn’t drive. The risk was too great should she be pulled over by an out-of-town officer. There was no way she could pass for the sixty-two on her driver’s license.

In effect, she was pretty much trapped here in Port Henry. But now that Victor and the others were here she wondered how they dealt with such issues. She had no idea how old they were, but each of them spoke with a certain formality that suggested they were older even than herself.

Except for DJ, she thought, and smiled to herself as she recalled the way he’d been flirting with Mabel all evening. Elvi’s friend had obviously found it all rather upsetting and put on her short-tempered, irritated old lady act, but Elvi knew under all the embarrassment the woman was flattered. Mabel was showing her age, but still attractive, and she wondered if DJ might really like her.

Spotting the pink tinge to the sky outside the bathroom window, Elvi rushed through the last of her ablutions. She then scampered into her room and climbed into her coffin with a grimace, wondering when Victor and the others had moved their caskets in. They’d all arrived in cars so must have had them shipped down, she reasoned, as she pulled the lid of her own casket shut.

Nine

“An accidental vampire,” Victor muttered to himself as he entered the room he shared with DJ.

“Victor?” The sleepy question came from the far side of the dark room as he closed the door. It was followed by rustling as DJ stirred on the pullout couch. “Did you say something?”

“Yes.” Victor snapped on the bedroom light.

DJ sat up, the sheets slipping down to his waist. “I’m up. What’s wrong?”

Victor strode across the room, glowering. “Elvi says she’s an accidental vampire.”

“What?” he asked with confusion.

Victor nodded. “She hasn’t learnt any of our laws or rules from her sire because she doesn’t think she has one.”

“Well, of course she does,” DJ said reasonably. “Someone has to have turned her.”

“That’s what I said,” he admitted. “But she says she went to Mexico with Mabel, was in a car accident, and woke up a vampire. She’s an accidental vampire.”

“That’s not possible,” DJ pointed out. “Maybe the accident is all she remembers. Maybe her sire wiped her memory or something.”

“Or she,” Victor said, and pointed out, “It doesn’t have to have been a man.”

“Or,” DJ said, eyes wide. “Maybe she was injured in the accident and was given contaminated blood by the blood bank.”

“No vampire would give blood to a blood bank,” Victor said dryly.

“I guess not,” he agreed with disappointment, then stiffened and said, “unless they were rogue and looking to contaminate a lot of mortals without exposing themselves to discovery.”

Victor gaped at him with disbelief. “You have to stop watching those late-night James Bond marathons.”

“Well, it’s possible,” DJ argued. “It’s actually a brilliant plan.”

Victor snatched up a pillow from the bed and slammed it into the side of his head. “No it’s not brilliant. And it’s not what happened here.”

“How do you know?” DJ challenged.

“Because, I’m sure even in Mexico they test donated blood before giving it to accident victims. They’d have spotted the nanos right away and pulled the blood to examine further and we’d be exposed by now.”

“The immortal could have controlled the minds of the people who tested it so that they didn’t test it at all,” DJ suggested.

Victor rolled his eyes. “Then there’d be a hell of a lot of confused new immortals running around Mexico and we’d have heard about it long before now. Elvi was turned five years ago.”

“Oh.” The idiot looked disappointed at this news. Apparently, he’d been rather excited at the idea of a Gold-finger-type immortal, plotting to take over the world or some such thing by spreading his blood around.

Shaking his head, Victor walked over to the king-sized bed and dropped, sitting on the side to remove his shoes.

“So…” DJ said.

When he paused, Victor raised his head to peer at him curiously. “What?”

“Mabel’s hot, huh?”

Victor blinked at the change in subject, but acknowledged, “She’s an attractive woman.” A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the way DJ had been hanging over her all night. He bent to remove his second shoe.

“I can’t read her,” DJ blurted.

Victor froze, and then slowly raised his head to stare at the man. He raised one eyebrow in question. “You can’t?”

DJ shook his head slowly from side to side. “I tried both at the restaurant and then again when we got back to the house. I can’t read her.”

Victor let his breath out slowly as he was assaulted by sundry thoughts. The main one was that DJ had met his lifemate.

“That could be a complication,” he commented finally.

“Yeah,” DJ agreed, then stifled his grin and said solemnly, “I’ll try not to let it interfere.”

“Right,” Victor murmured, but knew that would be impossible. He’d had a lifemate once. He knew the effect she had. The man would be scattered and useless, unable to tear his thoughts from the woman who held his future in her hands like a wee baby bird that could be nurtured to adulthood, or crushed with the barest squeeze.

Sighing, he pushed aside the envy suddenly gnawing at his insides and kicked off his second shoe, then stood and crossed the room to flip off the switch.

“Good night, Victor,” DJ said as the darkness dropped over the room again.

“Good night,” he said quietly, suddenly terribly, terribly tired.

Elvi woke up late. She suspected it was a result of the alcohol t he night before and grimaced over the cotton mouth she was suffering as she stumbled into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She followed that up with a quick shower, then threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the door, eager to feed.

Both kinds.

She’d have to have blood of course, but would follow that up with real food. Maybe that cheesecake she’d never got to last night. Or ice cream.

Or bacon, Elvi thought as she stepped out of her room and sniffed. Yes, that was definitely bacon she smelled. Cheesecake suddenly went to the bottom of the list of most-desirable foods. It was too sweet for breakfast, despite the fact that it was actually seven o’clock at night.

The delicious scents teasing her nose didn’t prepare her for the sight that met her as she entered the kitchen.

Victor stood in front of a pan of spitting, hissing bacon. Harper was at his side, manning the toaster. Alessandro was just closing the coffeepot and turning it on and Edward was squeezing fresh orange juice.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, grinning at the sight of so many men working so industriously in her kitchen. Pedro cooked at the restaurant, but Elvi’s marriage had been an old-fashioned one with her husband working out of the house and never stepping into her kitchen. This was…extraordinary.

All four men turned to look her way as one. They also smiled and greeted her in quadraphonic stereo. “Good morning.”

Elvi’s grin widened for some reason when she saw that Victor was wearing Mabel’s apron. She moved forward, asking, “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. It’s all done,” Victor announced. He turned off the burner under the bacon, then grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door to reveal two bowls inside. One held scrambled eggs, the other was full of golden hash browns. Glancing her way, he added, “Sit down.”

Elvi hesitated, then defied the order and slid into the kitchen, weaving her way through the men to get to the fridge.

“What are you looking for? I can get it for you.” Alessandro moved quickly forward, but Elvi had already opened the door and grabbed a bag of blood. She usually kept some in the refrigerator in her room, but hadn’t thought to take any up last night.

“Oh.” Alessandro stepped out of the way as she closed the door. It just put him in front of the shelf of cups, though.

“I need a mug,” she said apologetically, lisping slightly around her fangs as just the sight of the bag of blood combined with her hunger to draw them out.

Rather than step out of her way, Alessandro reached up to the open shelf to grab a cup for her.

Before she could take it, though, Victor said, “It takes too long to drink that way. Your breakfast will get cold. Alessandro, show her how to feed from the bag.”

“From the bag?” Elvi asked uncertainly, glancing over to see that Victor had placed the eggs and hash browns on the table and was now transferring the bacon from the frying pan to a plate.

“Don’t you know how to feed from the bag?” Harper asked with surprise as he carried the toast to the table.

“She never met her sire and wasn’t trained…in anything,” Victor answered for her, and Elvi felt herself flush when the men all turned to stare at her with combined horror and pity. She felt as embarrassed as if he’d just announced that her skirt was caught in the back of her panties.

“You said that last night, but I never imagined it included not teaching her how to feed herself,” Edward commented and moved to take the bag from her before Alessandro did, and instructed, “Open your mouth.”

Elvi caught the irritation that flashed across the men’s faces at Edward’s usurping the chore as she opened her mouth, then gave a start when the bag was popped onto her fangs with a quick sharp move.

Elvi instinctively tried to ask what he was doing, but of course she couldn’t talk around the bag in her mouth and gave up the effort when Edward caught her hand and said firmly, “No speaking. This will only take a moment.”

Elvi stood still as she waited for the bag to empty, surprised to find the man hadn’t been kidding. He was soon tugging the emptied bag from her teeth.

“That’s incredible,” she said with amazement as he moved to discard the bag.

“Much faster than drinking from the glass, no?” Alessandro took her elbow and steered her around the counter to the table.

“Much,” Elvi agreed with a smile, and then turned her attention to the breakfast laid out in front of her as she took her seat. Her eyes widened incredulously at the amount of food on the table. They must have used all three packages of bacon she’d bought. Harper had apparently toasted a whole loaf of bread, and she suspected Victor had put both cartons of eggs and one of the frozen rolls of sausage in the scrambled eggs. It seemed the men had found their appetites.

“Here.” Victor began to scoop scrambled eggs on her plate and Elvi’s eyes widened with amused horror at the small mountain he served her. Harper immediately began to dump bacon on top of the eggs.

“Toast?” Alessandro asked, holding the plate out for her as Edward poured fresh-squeezed orange juice into her glass.

Wow! If this was what being courted was like, she could learn to like it, Elvi thought and murmured “thank you” to all of them as she took a piece of toast. She was not going to eat all this, but would have fun trying.

“I take it you guys are eating again?” she commented with amusement as the men claimed their seats around the table and began to fill their own plates. “Over your boredom with food, are you?”

The sudden silence at the table made her glance up curiously from scooping eggs onto her fork. The men were all still and staring at each other.

“What?” she asked curiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” they answered in stereo. Then Victor and Harper turned their attention to their plates, their expressions troubled. Alessandro had a curious expression on his face as he glanced from man to man, and Edward was eyeing everyone with calculation. It was all very odd and Elvi hadn’t a clue what these reactions were all about.

They ate in silence for a bit, and then she decided to make another gambit at conversation. She glanced at Alessandro and said curiously, “You said last night that you hadn’t eaten in fifty years?”

“Si,” he nodded.

“DJ is the only one young enough to still eat…prior to this,” Victor added uncomfortably, and then forged on with, “I fear the rest of us are too old to be bothered with food most of the time.”

“Too old to be bothered with it?” Elvi echoed, glancing around at their faces.

“After a century or two most immortals grow bored with the trouble of eating and refrain from bothering unless it is a social occasion,” Harper explained.

“A century or two?” Elvi gasped but had some vague recollection of having heard this before. Probably the night before, either on the way to or during shopping. Anything told to her then had gone out the window. Her mind had been wholly on food at that point. She glanced from man to man. “How old are you?”

The others all looked to Victor in question. When he shrugged, Edward cleared his throat, drawing her gaze. “I was born in 1004.”

While Elvi was sucking in her breath over this, Harper leaned forward and offered, “I was born in 1282.”

“Me, I was born in 1794,” Alessandro announced. When she glanced his way, he grinned and added, “I am the youngest.”

“The youngest?” Elvi murmured faintly. The room suddenly seemed to be spinning. Or perhaps it was her head.

“Actually, DJ is just over a hundred. He’s the youngest,” Edward corrected him.

Alessandro shrugged. “Si. But he is not here right now.”

“Yes,” Edward conceded, then announced out of the blue, “Victor is the oldest.”

Elvi’s mind wobbled to a stop and she turned a look full of horror on the British man. “Older than you?”

Edward smiled at her expression and nodded.

Elvi turned slowly to peer at Victor. He didn’t look a day over thirty and could have passed for twenty-five, but they were telling her he was more than a thousand years old.

Victor shifted under her glance, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, then muttered, “230.”

“That’s the year he was born, not his age,” Edward explained helpfully.

“230?” Elvi asked with incomprehension. “But that would make you”—she paused to do the math then said—“one thousand, seven hundred and seventy-seven years old?”

Victor pursed his lips and shook his head, but before he could answer, Edward said, “I’m afraid not. Victor was born in 230 B.C.”

“B.C.,” Elvi echoed, blinking rapidly as her head began to spin again. “Before Christ…Oh my,” she murmured and began to slide down her seat.

“I think she’s waking up.”

Elvi fought off the last of sleep’s cobwebs at what she felt sure was Harper’s voice. The next one was definitely Edward’s as he muttered a grim, “Hmm. Finally.”

Blinking her eyes open, she found herself staring up at the four men. They all had identical expressions of worry on their faces as they bent over her.

“You’re awake,” Victor said with relief. “You’ve been out so long we were starting to worry. Are you all right?”

“What happened?” Elvi murmured with confusion.

“You fainted,” Edward announced. “A very Victorian thing to do, if I may say so.”

Elvi scowled. “I never faint.”

“Apparently you do now,” he pointed out.

“How much blood have you had over the last twenty-four hours?” Victor asked.

“One bag last night and the one before breakfast,” she murmured, pushing herself up to sit upright. The men backed off a bit to allow her to lean back against the arm of the couch and Elvi glanced around to see that they’d moved her to the couch in the big living room while she was unconscious.

“One yesterday and one this evening?” Victor asked with irritation. “No wonder you fainted. You should have at least two or three bags a day. You’ll be sorry if you try going without.”

“Yes, I know.” Elvi had tried to resist blood when she’d first been turned and had given that up in a hurry when the pain had claimed her. If she didn’t eat enough, it physically hurt. In fact, now that she thought about it, the tummy upset and headache she’d been suffering last night had probably been due to not having enough blood rather than being due to the food she’d consumed. Both symptoms had been worse this morning, but had eased the moment she’d consumed the bag of blood. Another bag or two and they’d probably disappear altogether.

“I—” Elvi paused as Victor suddenly stood and moved out of the room. She stared after him with surprise, then swung her feet to the floor and cautiously stood up, waving off the other three men when they reached out to steady her. She was still a bit wobbly, but suspected it had as much to do with what she’d learned earlier about these men as any lack of blood.

Elvi and Mabel had discussed her new, extended life, pondering that she might continue to exist another hundred years or so, but neither of them had considered as much as seven hundred, one thousand, or even two thousand years. This had been shattering news. And she wasn’t at all sure she’d classify it as good. The idea of living another hundred years was rather distressing, let alone a thousand or more. Dear God. Everyone she knew, plus their children, their children’s children, and so on, would die before her and she’d have to witness it, grieving over each new loss, mourning yet another passing while she stayed there, living in Port Henry, as unchanging as a statue.

Hell, her home and even Port Henry might very well crumble around her and return to dust before she died. What sort of future was that?

“Here.”

The men shifted to make a path for Victor as he returned, carrying a bag of blood.

“Thank you.” She accepted the offering.

The moment the cold bag rested in her palm, Elvi felt her teeth shift, allowing her fangs to slide out.

When she peered at the bag uncertainly, Victor seemed to understand what was making her hesitate and instructed, “Just pop it firmly to your teeth.”

Nodding, Elvi opened her mouth, took a breath, and then popped the bag upward as Edward had done for her earlier. There was a moment’s resistance when the bag met her teeth, then a popping sound and it continued upward, until it was fully impaled on her fangs.

“Perfect,” Victor praised.

“Si, is very good,” Alessandro agreed.

Harper nodded. “A natural.”

Edward merely grunted.

An amused snort came out muffled around the bag as Elvi stared at them, unable to speak. They were acting like she’d just taken her first ride on a two-wheel bike. All she’d done is stuck a bag on her teeth. Judging by the concern still visible in their faces, she supposed they were worried she’d faint on them again. Men tended to hate things like that. Fainting, crying, and so on seemed to leave them at a loss.

With the four men staring at her as if she might topple over at any moment, the few minutes it took for the bag to empty seemed unbearably long to her. It was with relief she removed the bag when it was empty and moved through them, determined to dispose of it herself and prove she was just fine.

“I brought you two bags,” Victor said, following her out of the room and across the foyer to the dining room.

“Oh, thanks.” Elvi reached back for the full bag and popped it to her teeth, then continued on to the garbage can in the corner of the kitchen to toss the other. The second was almost empty by then, so she waited there until it too was done and tossed it as well.

When she turned back to the room, the men were all there, crowded around the stove and taking the plates and bowls Victor was retrieving from the oven.

“We put the food in to stay warm when you fainted,” Victor explained as he took out the last item.

“Oh.” Elvi followed him to the table, and then asked curiously, “Where is DJ?”

“He’s at the restaurant with Mabel,” Harper said, holding out her chair.

Elvi sat, her eyebrows rising at this news. She was pretty sure Mabel wouldn’t have been happy to have the man with her and couldn’t imagine why he was. “Why is he at the restaurant?”

When Victor hesitated, Edward announced, “As she was leaving, Mabel said she was going to let you sleep in, but that when you did wake up, we were to tell you not to go to the restaurant tonight, but to pick one of us to spend the evening getting to know.”

“Si.” Alessandro nodded. “And then DJ said as he wasn’t on the list of suitors, he would go to the restaurant in your place and help out.”

Elvi blushed at the reminder that these men were in search of a mate…and she was the only single female vamp in town. Clearing her throat, she merely commented, “I don’t imagine Mabel was pleased with DJ’s volunteering to take my place.”

“Not at all,” Victor agreed with amusement, and then gestured to her plate. “Eat.”

Nodding, she turned her attention to the food. The toast had grown soggy, but otherwise it was all very good. They fell into a natural silence as they concentrated on their meal, leaving Elvi to consider what she’d learned before she fainted. The ages these men claimed to be were rather staggering. She wouldn’t have been so upset if they’d all been two or three hundred years old like Alessandro and DJ, but the ages of the other men…

Elvi peered from one face to the other now, looking for any sign of their advanced age, but really none of them looked their age. Hell, none of them even looked as old as her own age of sixty-two. But then, neither did she, she acknowledged.

Her gaze focused on Victor as she recalled that he was the oldest, born in 230…B.C. Before Christ. She pondered that briefly, realizing it meant he’d been around when Jesus had walked the earth, and almost asked if he’d met him, but then thought better of it. They were soulless after all, thanks to their curse, and soulless beings would hardly go seeking the son of God. Would they? She frowned as she recalled Mabel saying that Victor had touched her cross at the restaurant without an undo reaction. She’d meant to ask him about that, but had forgotten when they were in the sunroom last night.

“What are you thinking?” Victor asked suddenly.

Elvi bit her lip, then admitted, “About our being soulless and cursed and yet you touched Mabel’s cross and she said nothing happened. I—”

“We aren’t soulless,” Victor interrupted.

Elvi stilled, her fork held aloft in one hand. “What?”

“We aren’t immortals because of some curse that has left us soulless,” he said.

Her gaze slid to the other men in question. Each one nodded reassuringly.

“Then how—?”

“Bugs,” Alessandro announced eagerly. When Elvi turned to him with disbelief, he nodded excitedly, “Si. Truly, is the little bugs. They are in our blood, eating up all the sickness and—”

“They aren’t bugs, idiot,” Edward interrupted dryly, and then told Elvi, “they are nanos. Our forefathers came from Atlantis. I presume you’ve heard of it?”

Elvi nodded slowly. Man from Atlantis used to be a popular show when she was younger.

“Well, that is where our kind and these nanos originate,” Edward informed her. “Really, we’re a superior people. Our scientists were well-advanced. They used technology beyond even today’s abilities to combine bioengineering and nano technology to create specialized medical nanos that could be introduced to the blood stream of a person with…say…internal injuries or cancer. These nanos use blood for fuel as they repair whatever damage is present or surround any germs or cancerous cells and kill them. They were created as a way to avoid invasive surgery. Once finished, they would disintegrate and leave the body as all waste does.”

“Nanos?” Elvi dropped her fork to her plate and sat back in her seat, her mind racing to take this all in. “So, the nanos…they’re what made me young again?”

“They see the effects of aging as damage that needs repairing,” Victor said quietly.

Edward nodded. “The effects of aging, sunlight…” He shrugged. “Anything that affects the body’s balance is seen as something they should tend to, and the body is under constant attack from the environment and even just time.”

“So the nanos are always busy and never disintegrate and leave the body,” Harper explained. “Instead they stay and keep us forever at optimal levels of health, strength, and age.”

“But it means the nanos are constantly reproducing, constantly repairing,” Victor added. “They use a lot of blood, more than a body can produce and so they evolve our bodies to get what they need to keep us in optimal health.”

“The fangs.” Elvi ran her tongue over her teeth.

“And the increased strength, speed, hearing, sight, mind control…” Victor nodded. “Anything that will improve our ability to get the extra blood.”

Nanos, she thought. Not soulless, just nanos. Somehow these nanos had been “introduced to her blood stream” as Edward had put it. But how, she wondered. Had she got infected blood after the accident? All she recalled was the accident, then waking up in their hotel room covered in blood, her teeth sunk deep in Mabel’s throat.

Elvi shuddered at the memory she most often tried to forget. That episode with the raging, mindless, and uncontrollable hunger that had made her do something she normally never would have done, had assured her she was cursed and soulless.

Although, Elvi thought now, she’d suffered horrible guilt ever since and perhaps that alone should have reassured her she still had a soul. Surely soulless demons didn’t feel guilty for their crimes?

Wow. She’d had it all wrong. She wasn’t soulless. She could eat. What else could she do?

“What about daylight?” Elvi asked suddenly, sitting up in her seat. Please God, she thought desperately, let me see the sun again. Her garden had always been her haven, where she could retire from life’s troubles and just relax, digging in the earth with the aroma of flowers and herbs around her. She had missed it terribly.

“Daylight can be a problem,” Victor admitted apologetically. “But only in so much as sunlight damages skin, which makes the nanos work harder, which means you must consume more blood.”

“But I can go out in it?” she asked, holding her breath.

“Yes, but I wouldn’t recommend long periods of exposure and you must increase your blood intake,” he said firmly.

Elvi didn’t care. She’d drink an ocean of blood just to be able to feel the sun on her face again. What else, she wondered. What else had she given up these last five years because she’d thought vampires had to live a certain way?

“So we can eat, we can go out in sunlight…” Elvi peered at Victor and added, “And religious relics don’t harm us.”

Victor smiled and shook his head. “We can eat, we can go out in sunlight, we can walk in churches and touch crosses and holy water without bursting into flame, we don’t sleep in coffins filled with dirt, we have reflections…” He paused and glanced to the others. “Is there any other ridiculous myth I’ve forgotten to address?”

The men all shook their heads, but Elvi wasn’t paying much attention, her mind had fixed on the part about not sleeping in coffins.

“We don’t sleep in coffins filled with dirt.” His words sang in her ears. No coffin. She could sleep in a bed. A big, soft, comfortable bed without sides and a lid on it. With lots of pillows and a huge down-filled comforter and—

Elvi stood up abruptly. “I have to go.”

“What?” Victor asked. He and the others stared at her with amazement.

“I have to go,” Elvi repeated, her head swinging around, eyes finding the clock. She had thirty minutes before the furniture store closed for the night and she wasn’t waiting until tomorrow to buy a bed.

Spinning on her heel, she hurried for the stairs, hardly aware of the screech of wood on ceramic tile as the men all got up from the table. She needed her purse. It had her car keys and wallet. There was a small furniture store just up the block from the restaurant, but it closed early, however there was another on the outskirts of town that was much larger and still open. It was a fifteen-minute drive away, which left her fifteen minutes to shop. She had to move!

“What is happening?” Elvi heard Alessandro ask as she raced up the stairs. No one answered. Instead, there was the pounding of footsteps on the staircase behind her as the men hurried to catch up.

“Elvi,” Victor called.

Elvi ignored him and hurried to her room. She charged inside and raced to her dresser to grab the purse that sat on top, then turned back just as Victor burst into the room, the others hard on his heels.

“What—?” Victor’s question died a quick death as his gaze landed on the coffin in the center of the room. He blanched.

Following his gaze, the others stared in horror. There was a moment of silence, then Edward moved forward to examine the casket, saying, “I haven’t heard of one of our kind sleeping in one of these since…well, for a good hundred years anyway.”

Elvi glanced at him with surprise. “You mean vampires really did sleep in these things at one time?” She’d briefly thought that had been completely wrong.

Harper nodded and moved to run a hand over the shiny wood. “Houses used to be large and drafty and not as well put together at times. Some slept in coffins or tombs to ensure they were protected from any sunlight creeping in.”

“Why?” she asked with a frown, and then glanced accusingly at Victor. “You said we could go out in sunlight.”

“Yes, but I also said it means consuming more blood. Before blood banks that was a risky proposition. The more we had to feed, the more likely the chance of discovery,” he explained patiently. “We avoided sunlight at all times and anything else that used more blood.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

“You have been sleeping in this?” Victor asked, now moving to the coffin as well.

Elvi flushed and nodded.

“For five years?” he asked, lifting the lid to peer inside.

She nodded again.

“This is another cheesecake emergency,” Alessandro murmured with a shake of the head.

“Yes,” Victor agreed, mouth grim as he gently lowered the lid back down. “And it’s growing late. The stores will soon close.”

“My car is the last one in the driveway,” Edward announced, turning for the door. “I’ll get my keys.”

Recalling how slow he drove, Elvi glanced worriedly toward the digital clock on the dresser. It was only then she remembered that the clock downstairs ran ten minutes slow. And they’d wasted five minutes up here staring at her coffin.

“The store closes in fifteen minutes. We’ll never make it in time,” she said with despair.

“We will make it,” Victor assured her, taking her arm to hurry her out of the room.

“Not if Edward is driving,” she moaned.

The British man stopped and turned back indignantly. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “But you drive like an old man.”

“I am an old man,” Edward said dryly. “We all are.”

Elvi bit her lip, at a loss as to what to say now. It was Victor who broke the silence saying, “Alessandro can drive. His car is at the back of the second lane.”

“Si. I drive fast, and I have my keys,” Alessandro announced triumphantly. He started for the stairs and the rest of them followed, but paused again when Harper pointed out, “Alessandro’s car only rides two.”

“No,” the Italian assured them, leading them forward once more. “Is more comfortable for two, but four can fit.”

“There are five of us,” Edward reminded him and everyone screeched to a halt.

Elvi closed her eyes, feeling the seconds tick away. They weren’t going to make it. They may as well—

“Elvi can sit on my lap,” Victor announced and the group immediately started forward again, including Elvi, but she was only moving because Victor had her by the arm. Her feet were definitely dragging. Sit on his lap? No way. She hardly knew him. Besides, that was illegal she was sure. And what about seat belts? She was not sitting on his lap.

Ten

“Comfortable?”

Elvi heard the muttered question from Victor. She even felt his breath brush against her lobe as he asked, but she didn’t stop clutching him and lean back to answer. She stayed where she was, plastered against his chest, head burrowed near his neck, face turned toward the driver’s side of the front seat as she stared with a horrified fascination at the car’s speedometer.

Glancing sideways, Alessandro caught her eye and beamed. “I drive fast, no?”

Elvi heard what might have been a whimper issue from her lips and returned her eyes to the control panel. The man didn’t drive fast, he drove at light speed. She could see the speedometer from where she sat hunched on Victor’s lap in the front passenger seat. It was in miles per hour, not the kilometers she was used to. The speedometer went as high as 155 mph and could actually go that fast. She knew this because this was what Alessandro was doing. She’d never before seen telephone poles go by so fast they became a blur.

Elvi turned her face into Victor’s shoulder, her hands clutching a little more frantically as they hit a curve in the road and Alessandro took it without slowing. With her mouth pressed into Victor’s shoulder, she could now see the two men crammed into the backseat. The car had a backseat of sorts, obviously not intended and certainly not by two such large men. Edward and Harper didn’t look very comfortable back there, but Harper did manage a weak smile as he grabbed for anything he could get his hands on to keep from being thrown into Edward’s lap by the centrifugal force.

As for Edward, he sat, expression grim, furious eyes burning holes into the back of Alessandro’s head.

A flashing light drew her attention to the back window, and Elvi’s eyes widened in alarm. “Police!”

She glanced toward Alessandro to see him glancing with unconcern in the rearview mirror. He eased up on the gas, allowing the car to slow and the police car to catch up, then smiled her way.

“No worry. I handle him quick,” he assured her, then turned his attention back to the rearview mirror, his gaze becoming concentrated.

Confusion clouding her mind, Elvi glanced back to the road in time to see the police lights suddenly go out and the car turn and head back the way it had come. Alessandro immediately sped up again.

“What did you do?” she asked, turning on him with amazement.

“I just put suggestion in his head, he maybe wanna go find doughnuts,” Alessandro said with a shrug. “Police, they like doughnuts here, no?”

“You—!” Elvi began with dismay, but the berating she would have given him for controlling a member of the police department died in her throat, replaced by a whimper as they hit another curve and she was thrown backward. She would have slammed into the passenger door if Victor hadn’t caught her and pulled her swiftly back to his chest.

“Just hang on,” he murmured by her ear. “The ride will be over soon.”

Elvi swallowed the reprimand she’d wanted to give Alessandro and held on. She inhaled a shaky breath and closed her eyes, then opened them and inhaled again, eyes widening slightly at Victor’s tantalizing scent. She didn’t know what it was, but it was spicy and really delightful and she found herself pressing closer and inhaling again. It was Harper’s raised eyebrows right behind her that made her realize what she was doing and that it had been witnessed.

Flushing, Elvi forced herself to sit up a little, only to be thrown against Victor’s chest, then slide down his lap to land tangled in his legs as Alessandro suddenly swerved off the road and slammed on the breaks.

“We are here, no?” the Italian asked, peering down at her cheerfully.

Elvi stared up at him with disbelief, then grasped the dashboard with one hand and Victor’s knee with the other and managed to drag herself back up to peer around, relieved to see the big yellow furniture store sign.

“Yes,” she breathed, grateful the ride from hell was over.

Victor opened the door, grasped her by the waist, and lifted her out, handing her to Harper who had hopped out of the back and was waiting to help.

The second vampire set her on her feet beside the car and then held her long enough to be sure she had her feet beneath her before letting go and stepping away as Victor unfolded himself from the car to join them. Elvi muttered a “thank you” to both men, then turned and scurried for the store, doing her best to forget that she had to get back into that vehicle later.

Thanks to Alessandro’s speeding, they slid through the doors just as the manager approached, no doubt intending to close shop. Elvi offered him an apologetic glance.

“We’ll be quick,” she promised, making a beeline for the beds. The men followed in her wake.

“Is there something I can help you with?” the manager asked, hustling to catch up to her.

Elvi was about to answer when she felt a hand on her arm and glanced to Victor with surprise at the proprietary move.

“We need a bed,” he announced.

“Yes, of course,” the manager said. She supposed that was obvious, since they had hurried through the whole store to the beds at the back. “We have some lovely beds. What size are you interested in?

“King,” Elvi answered promptly. She could hardly wait to sprawl on one of those huge surfaces again, unrestrained by side panels or a lid, surrounded only by a big soft comforter and luxurious pillows…God, her toes tingled at the very idea.

“This is a popular model,” the manager said, pointing at the first of the beds.

Elvi stared, taking in the sheer size. To her it was like an ocean of bed after five years in her cramped coffin.

“Try it,” Alessandro suggested. “You must to try before you buy.”

“He’s right,” the manager offered when Elvi hesitated.

Nodding, she handed her purse to Victor, paused to take a breath, and threw herself on the bed. If the men hadn’t been standing their watching, she would have rolled and flopped about in her excitement. She could throw out her coffin. She could sleep in an ocean of sheets…. ohhhhh. Silk, she thought, imagining sliding around in a silk sea…or satin.

Blinking her eyes open, she found herself staring at five men all watching her expectantly.

“It’s all right,” Elvi murmured, forcing herself to get up and straighten her clothes. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t you think you should try the others as well?” Victor suggested mildly, killing the glee on the manager’s face before it had fully formed.

“Yes, definitely you must try them all,” Harper said.

“Yes,” the manager said on a regretful sigh. “It’s better to try at least a couple before picking one.”

Elvi turned to peer over the number of beds, her eyes wide.

“We will help,” Victor assured her.

“How is that bed?” Harper asked several moments later. “This one seems comfortable.”

Elvi sat up on the bed she was presently trying out and which seemed ridiculously hard to her, and glanced over to where Harper sat, bouncing lightly on another model.

“Perhaps I can save you some trouble,” the manager said, wincing as Alessandro dove onto yet another bed. “Do you and your wife prefer a hard or soft bed, sir?”

Elvi glanced over with surprise when he addressed Victor with the question. She had no idea why he would assume they were a couple. Unless it was because she and Victor seemed to keep gravitating toward the same beds, each laying down on opposite sides, Elvi taking the right and Victor the left.

Sitting up beside her on the bed, Victor didn’t correct the man’s misconception; he merely turned a raised eyebrow her way.

“Soft,” she said decisively and stood to move to the bed Harper was now lying on. Elvi sat on the side opposite him, swung her feet up and lay down.

“This is better than the last one,” she announced, then added, “I’m not sure though. I might want something softer.”

“Let me see.” Victor patted her leg to urge her over.

Elvi shifted closer to the center of the bed, making room for him. She watched him lie down, and then turned to peer up at the ceiling overhead; contemplating if this was as comfortable as the bed she’d given up five years ago. In her memories, it had been like lying on a cloud.

“It might be too firm,” Victor said.

“We do have softer beds,” the manager announced. “The ones you’ve been trying are at the firmer end of the scale.”

“Show us.” Elvi skated to the end of the bed on her bottom to get up. She was extremely grateful that she’d thrown on jeans this morning. One of her ridiculous gowns would have been impossible to maneuver in.

“Here we are,” the manager announced, leading them to a bed set off by itself. “This is the best bed we sell. There’s no turning necessary and it has a twenty-year warranty.”

Elvi climbed on and settled on her back almost in the middle of the bed.

“Oh,” she sighed as the bed embraced her. “This is lovely.”

Victor and Harper immediately moved up on either side to try it as well, but this time Alessandro also got in, crawling up the middle to squeeze himself between her and Harper.

“Oh yes,” Harper murmured.

“Si,” Alessandro sighed. “This is nice. I will get one too. Do you ship to Toronto?”

“Yes, we do,” the manager said cheerfully, then cautioned. “However, you should really try it in whatever position you normally sleep in. If you prefer to sleep on your side, for instance, it’s good to try it that way. How do you normally sleep?”

Elvi grimaced. “I used to sleep on my right side in a bed, but for the last five years I’ve been stuck in the coff—”

“Everyone roll to your right,” Victor barked, cutting her off before she could mention her casket, and she recalled that they weren’t in Port Henry where everyone knew what she was. The man would think she was nuts if she started yipping about coffins and vampires.

Grimacing, Elvi rolled to her right even as the men did, and settled down on the bed with her arm under her head in place of a pillow, her eyes on the back of Alessandro’s head.

“You know, this reminds me of a movie I once saw,” Edward murmured, peering down at them thoughtfully. He stood on one side of the bed, the manager on the other.

“What movie is that?” Elvi asked curiously.

“I can’t recall the title, but it was x-rated.”

Elvi blinked, and then flushed as she realized that she was rolling around in a bed with three men. Brilliant. Flushing, she sat up and scooted off the bed.

“She’ll take this one,” Victor said as he too got to his feet. He cast a scowl Edward’s way once upright.

“Yes, I will.” Elvi began to dig in her purse for her wallet.

“Wonderful!” The manager turned to lead the way toward the service counter where a lone woman sat waiting impatiently for them to either buy something or leave.

“Will you be taking it with you or do you need it delivered?” he asked, grabbing an invoice off the counter and beginning to write on it.

“Delivered,” Elvi said at once and handed over her credit card. There was no way they were transporting it with Alessandro’s little car. Unfortunately, she’d have to sleep in the coffin one more night.

“I’ll need your address.”

Elvi rattled off her address, her gaze slipping over her shoulder and back toward the bed. It was a beautiful bed and so comfortable…She couldn’t wait to sleep in it.

“Port Henry?” the manager murmured as he handed back her credit card. “Let’s see. We deliver there on Wednesdays. How’s this Wednesday?”

Elvi’s head whipped back with horror.

“Wednesday?” she squawked. It was a ridiculously expensive bed and for the price she was paying, Elvi had hoped to at least be able to get it the next day. She feared her voice was desperately whiney as she asked, “Can’t they deliver it tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” he pointed out, and then added with a frown, “we don’t deliver on Sunday. And we only deliver to Port Henry on Wednesdays.”

Elvi stared at him nonplussed. She couldn’t believe she was going to have to wait until Wednesday to sleep in a bed. She couldn’t wait until Wednesday. She’d spent five years in a coffin when she needn’t have. One more night, she might be able to handle. But four was asking too much.

“You’ll deliver the bed tomorrow,” Victor said calmly.

Elvi glanced at him in surprise, but her gaze shot back to the manager as he said, “We’ll deliver the bed tomorrow.”

“No,” she said sharply as she realized that Victor had to be somehow controlling the man just as Alessandro had controlled the police officer and made him stop pursuing them. There was no way the sales manager had changed his tune so quickly without some incentive unless Victor had somehow made him. The fact that the woman behind the counter was gaping at the man as if he’d suddenly sprouted another head, also seemed to suggest this wasn’t normal. And as badly as she wanted the bed delivered tomorrow, Elvi wasn’t willing to get it this way.

Catching at Victor’s arm, she hissed, “No, Victor.”

“You need a bed,” he said simply.

“Here you are, all set.”

Elvi glanced around to see the manager holding out her copy of the invoice. “It will be there tomorrow afternoon if I have to deliver it myself. Thank you for shopping here.”

“Thank you.” Victor took the receipt Elvi refused to accept.

“Victor,” she said grimly, but he simply turned her toward the exit.

“You can’t do this,” Elvi protested as he urged her out of the building.

“Relax,” he murmured, steering her toward the car. “You paid for the bed and delivery.”

“That’s not the point,” Elvi snapped, coming to a halt on the parking lot pavement and turning on him. Spotting the other men watching with fascination, she paused, and then glanced around before grabbing Victor’s arm and urging him away and around the building out of sight.

Elvi made it a practice never to argue with, or berate, someone in front of others. To her mind it was embarrassing and no matter how angry she got, there was no reason to humiliate someone that way.

Pausing on the grass between the building on one side and the trees on the other, Elvi turned to face him, took a breath for patience and sought her mind for an argument to make him see what he was doing was wrong.

“It’s wrong,” she blurted finally.

Heaving a deep sigh, Victor shifted his stance and crossed his arms as if his patience was being tested here rather than hers.

“What’s wrong about it exactly?” he asked. “You bought a bed, you paid for it, you paid for delivery and are getting delivery when you want. It’s not like you got the bed for free or anything.”

“Yes, but they don’t deliver on Sundays.”

“Apparently now they do,” Victor said mildly.

“No they don’t,” Elvi said shortly. “You—you influenced him.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “Influenced him?”

Elvi made an impatient gesture. “I don’t know what it is exactly you people do, but you did something, because they don’t deliver on Sundays and only deliver to Port Henry on Wednesdays.”

“Elvi, do you really want to wait until Wednesday for the bed?”

She scowled. “Of course not, but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?” he asked growing impatient.

“You made him do something he didn’t want to do,” she said.

“How do you know? Maybe he really wanted to deliver it for you tomorrow. Besides, what does it matter? No one is hurt by this.”

“How do you know?” Elvi shot back. “Maybe whoever he forces to deliver it tomorrow had something else he had to do and can’t do now. Maybe it’s his daughter’s birthday and now he’s going to miss it, and his wife will be upset, and it will all end in divorce. Or maybe someone he loves is in hospital and he would have visited them, but won’t be able to and the person dies and he missed out on seeing that person one last time.”

“Dear God,” Victor muttered and shook his head with disbelief. “You think way too much.”

Elvi ground her teeth together and said, “So where does it end?”

Confusion crossed over his face. “Where does what end?”

“Are you controlling me too?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he waved the idea away as ridiculous.

“No? How do I know?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Victor assured her firmly.

“Really? Why not? You controlled him.”

“He is mortal.”

Elvi stiffened. “Until five years ago I too was mortal,” she pointed out coldly, and then glared. “You know what you are? You’re a.. a…mortalist.”

“A mortalist?” Victor echoed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s like a racist only—” Elvi’s explanation died in her throat as something suddenly pierced the air in front of her face. Blinking, she stared at the feathered shaft trembling between them, and then followed it to the tip that was buried in the sign on the side of the building beside them.

“What—argh!” Elvi ended with surprise as Victor suddenly pushed her to the ground, coming down on top of her.

Covering her with his own body, he raised his head and peered around, eyes narrowed as he tried to spot the source of the arrow that had just missed them.

“Er…Victor?” Elvi pushed at his shoulder ineffectually. Finally, she gasped, “I can’t breathe!”

Victor lifted himself slightly and peered down at her with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Of course. A little bruised from being thrown to the ground and jumped on maybe, but otherwise fine,” Elvi said dryly. “Can we get up now?”

“No.” He glanced around again.

“Why not?” she asked with real bewilderment and he turned his face to stare at her with disbelief.

“Why not? Has it escaped your attention that someone just shot an arrow at you?”

“Me?” Elvi snorted with disbelief and rolled to the side, knocking his arm out from under him and leaving him collapsing to the ground as she stood and brushed herself down. “If they were shooting at anyone, it would be you. You’re the one not from around here. I’ve lived in this area my whole life without a problem,” she pointed out, and then added, “but no one’s shooting at us. Why should they? We’re immortal and can’t die.”

Giving up on her clothes, she straightened and eyed him where he was just sitting up on the ground. Hands propped on her hips, Elvi asked, “Didn’t you see the business sign next door as we drove past? It’s the archery club. Obviously, someone isn’t a very good aim.”

Shaking her head, she turned and started back around the building.

Victor watched her go, then stood and moved to the trees lining this side of the furniture store. Peering cautiously through the branches, he eyed the lot next door. Sure enough it was an archery club, there were huge targets lined up along the back of the property. His gaze slid over the area, but there was no one there now. He presumed whoever had shot the arrow had gone back in the building.

His gaze returned to the targets, and then he turned to peer at the arrow still sticking out of the bottom corner of the large sign on the side of the furniture store. Victor shook his head. Elvi was wrong. This hadn’t been an accident. The bull’s-eyes were at the back of the archery property, not along the side behind the trees. Someone had shot an arrow at them.

As for Elvi’s argument that they were immortal and couldn’t die, it reminded him that he still had some things to explain to her, including their laws and the fact that they weren’t completely immortal.

His gaze slid over the lot next door once more, just to be sure no one was there and he wouldn’t get an arrow in the back as he left, then he turned to follow the path Elvi had taken, his mind taken up with two questions. Who had shot at them? And which of them was being shot at?

Elvi turned her gaze away from the fire the men had built on returning home from buying her bed and scowled at Victor. Not that he seemed to notice. He’d been distracted since leaving the furniture store, and hadn’t seemed to take note of even one of the dirty looks she’d sent his way. That just irritated her more. He should notice she was annoyed with him and care about it, dammit!

The sound of a car engine drew her attention to the driveway in time to see Mabel park behind Alessandro’s sports car. As she watched, her friend threw the car door open, leapt out, and slammed the door closed with more force than was absolutely necessary.

Elvi pursed her lips. Judging by the way Mabel stomped up the sidewalk to the deck and then into the house without even a glance in their direction, she may not be the only one annoyed with a member of the male sex tonight.

The slamming of a second car door drew her attention back to the car as DJ rushed up the sidewalk. However, when he went to follow Mabel inside, it appeared the door was locked.

He jerked at it twice, cursed, then stomped down to throw himself into one of the two empty seats by the fire with a muttered, “Women!”

“What did you do to her?” Harper asked with amusement.

“I was nice,” DJ said with disgust.

Elvi bit her lip at this explanation, for some reason believing it. After a moment, she cleared her throat, and asked, “She locked the door?”

DJ didn’t even glance her way as he nodded.

“I’ll go unlock it,” she murmured. Getting to her feet, Elvi headed for the deck. It seemed to her that the men could use a few moments alone to jolly DJ out of his morose mood.

They continued to speak in quiet tones as she crossed to the stairs leading to the sunroom. Elvi entered the house there, passing through her bedroom and out into the hall just in time to see Mabel headed for her own room.

“Mabel?” she asked, moving up the hall toward her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the gray-haired woman said with forced cheer. “Why would you ask?”

Elvi raised her eyebrows, and then said carefully, “It’s just that you seemed a bit upset when you got home.”

“Oh. No.” Mabel gave a forced laugh as she moved into her room, leaving the door open for Elvi to follow if she wished. “What would give you that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said dryly, trailing her into the room. “Maybe the way you stomped into the house without even a hello to the rest of us by the fire, then locked the door behind you so DJ couldn’t enter.” When Mabel’s only answer was to mutter something unintelligible under her breath, Elvi said, “I thought maybe DJ had done something to upset you?”

Mabel turned with a huff. “Don’t even mention the name to me. That man is the most annoying, irritating, exasperating…man.” She said the word as if it were synonymous with poop, and then went on, “He shouldn’t even be here! He wasn’t invited.”

“No,” Elvi agreed carefully. “But—”

“Do you know he followed me around all day? I couldn’t move for tripping over him.”

“I think he likes you,” Elvi blurted.

“Oh, please! Elvi, look at me.” Mabel held her hands out to the side. “I’m an old woman. He’s a strapping young man. He is not interested in me.”

“He isn’t as young as you think,” Elvi assured her, but Mabel wasn’t listening, she was moving into the connecting bathroom.

Elvi followed, watching her bend to close the stopper on the tub, then pour bubble bath in and turn on the water.

Straightening then, Mabel wheeled and continued her rant, “That boy’s forever reaching up to grab this for me or hurrying to lift that for me like I’m some useless old woman,” she said with disgust, then cried unhappily, “And why does he wear such tight jeans?”

Elvi blinked at the question, wondering if the problem wasn’t DJ being attracted to her, but that Mabel was attracted back and distressed by it.

“I told you, I think he likes you,” Elvi repeated.

“Stop saying that!” Mabel snapped, spinning on her angrily. “I’m—”

“A beautiful woman,” Elvi interrupted before she could insult herself again.

“You’re a vampire, Elvi,” she said grimly. “You have better eyesight than the rest of us. Now look at me. Look at this wrinkled old face.”

“Oh, Mabel, for heaven sakes,” she said impatiently. “Yes, you have laugh lines—”

“I have wrinkles,” Mabel repeated harshly, then added, “everywhere.”

Elvi waved that away as unimportant. “So? None of us look the same as we did twenty years ago.”

“You do,” Mabel pointed out. “Hell, you look better than you did twenty years ago; you look like you did forty years ago.”

“Oh, right.” Elvi bit her lip. While she hadn’t had a mirror since returning from Mexico, she’d caught a quick glimpse of herself there. She knew she looked young.

“Forget I said that,” Mabel said wearily when Elvi just stared at her with helpless guilt, then asked, “How was your night?”

Relieved at the change of topic, Elvi quickly told her about buying a bed and her annoyance with Victor for influencing the manager into delivering it the next day.

“I did call the store when I got home,” she announced. “But of course it was closed. I left a message, telling them not to deliver it tomorrow.”

“I don’t know why you bothered,” Mabel said with a shake of the head. “It’s not that big a deal. Besides, do you think it will work? I mean, their control must reach beyond simple influence. They must be able to cause some sort of a compulsion in the person. Otherwise, the moment Victor left, the manager would have snapped out of it and cancelled the delivery himself. Don’t you think?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Elvi admitted. “I need to find out more about this stuff, I guess.”

Silence fell in the room, and then Elvi glanced at the robe and book Mabel had collected and now held loosely in her hands. She turned toward the door. “I guess I should leave you to your bath…maybe I’ll take one myself.”

“Good night,” Mabel murmured.

“’Night.” Elvi slid back out into the hall, pulling the bedroom door closed behind her, then wandered toward her own room. She’d had a shower that morning, but a nice relaxing bubble bath really did sound lovely.

Nodding to herself, Elvi picked up her pace. She had a lovely new bath set she wanted to try. A vanilla bubble bath with a crème brûlée body lotion to put on after. She gave a little shiver at the very thought. Elvi loved bubble baths. In the past, the tub was often the only place she’d got a moment of peace and privacy. As a mother and wife, there was always some great tragedy like having nothing to wear to the party the next weekend, or being unable to find the cheddar cheese that brought her daughter or husband to knock on the door.

Elvi smiled sadly at the memories of just such interruptions as she ran her bath. If she’d realized then how little time she would have with them, she would have savored those moments at the time.

Shrugging these thoughts away, Elvi closed the bathroom door, retrieved a bath towel and washcloth, then stripped out of her clothes. By then, the water was only a couple of inches from the top of the tub. Elvi bent to turn off the taps, then stepped carefully into the tub and eased herself into the hot bubbly water with a little sigh.

Oh yes, this was nice.

“I thought Elvi said she was going to unlock the door?”

Victor glanced toward Alessandro as the man returned to the group around the fire. He’d been pretending to listen to Harper regale DJ with their latest adventure in shopping with Elvi, but had really been preoccupied with the best way to make Elvi explain this business of being an “accidental vampire.” It was obvious from her reaction last night that she didn’t really wish to discuss the subject further than to say that, but it was the reason he was here. He didn’t wish to upset her or make her recall what were obviously unpleasant memories, but he had to sort this matter out.

Victor knew he should have sat her down and addressed the issue today rather than allow this latest shopping expedition, but found himself too easily distracted by the woman. She was constantly taking him by surprise, flitting this way or that like a hummingbird in a garden. He found himself running to keep up with her, and eagerly doing what he could to aid her in getting what she needed rather than pinning her wings down to attend to his job as enforcer. This wasn’t like him at all. It had been a very long time since a woman had fascinated him so, and he had never once been distracted from his duty as enforcer, not since the day he’d taken on the position more than three hundred years ago.

“Hasn’t she?” DJ asked, drawing Victor’s attention back to the conversation taking place around him.

When Alessandro shook his head, Victor frowned and glanced toward the upper windows of the house. The lights at Elvi’s end of the house had come on a good hour ago. From the brief few moments he and the others had been in her room earlier that night, he thought it was the window in her bathroom. It was still on, he saw now.

He opened his mouth to suggest the man try knocking on Elvi’s sunroom door, then closed it again and stood. If anyone was going to bother her in her bedroom, it was going to be him, besides, now was as good a time as any for him to get to the bottom of her turning.

“I’ll see to it,” he murmured, moving away from the fire.

Elvi had left the sunroom door open when she’d entered earlier, only the screen door was closed and it wasn’t locked. Victor peered through the screen to the open door between it and the bedroom, frowning when he saw that the room was in darkness.

Raising a hand, he tapped lightly at the door, waited, then tapped a little louder. When there was no answer after a third knock, Victor hesitated, then slid into the sunroom. She obviously wasn’t in her room. He’d just slip through her room, go down and unlock the kitchen door, then find her and have the talk he knew he needed to have with her.

Victor was halfway through her room, heading for the door to the hall when a door on his right suddenly opened. His feet froze guiltily and his head whipped toward the sound.

Elvi was coming out of the bathroom, wet hair slicked back from her face and wearing only a towel. A very small towel.

Victor swallowed heavily, all thoughts of talk slipping from his mind as his gaze traveled over every inch of exposed flesh. He started at the top, his eyes dancing over her shoulders, arms, and chest above the towel, before dropping down to slide lovingly over the legs visible beneath. It was short enough to reveal calves, knees, and a good three-quarters of her thighs.

His devoted exploration was interrupted when Elvi apparently spotted him, stopped short, dropped a small bundle she was carrying and let loose a little, startled shriek.

“It’s okay,” Victor said quickly. “I was just passing through. You forgot to unlock the door downstairs. I knocked, but there was no answer, so I thought I’d just slip through your room to do it.”

“Oh,” Elvi breathed, her shoulders relaxing. “I—You startled me. I didn’t expect…” Her voice trailed away and she glanced down at the bundle she’d dropped. Clutching at her towel with one hand, she bent to retrieve the bundle with the other, but something slipped free and wafted back to the floor as she straightened. Victor moved forward at once.

“Here, let me get that.” He knelt to pick up the bit of silk, his brain slow to realize they were red silk panties. Recognizing that, he started to raise his face to glance at her apologetically, but his eyes got caught on her naked legs. They were lovely. Pale, but perfect. And there was a drop of water she’d missed while drying. It was at the top inside of her knee and he had the sudden, crazy urge to lean forward and catch it with his tongue.

A small sound from Elvi dragged him back to his senses, and Victor forced himself upright. He held the bit of cloth between them. “Your…er…”

Flushing, Elvi took the panties from him, murmuring, “Thank you. I’m sorry I forgot to unlock the door.”

“Yes,” Victor mumbled, his eyes locked on her lips. There was another drop of water just there in the center of her lower lip. It seemed to be taunting him, daring him to capture her lower lip between both of his and suck off the drop.

Her expression was confused and uncertain, but he could also hear her heartbeat and knew it was racing in response to his nearness. As was his own, he realized.

“Victor?” His name was barely a breath of sound, but it was enough to send the water droplet tumbling forward. Before it could roll off, Victor swooped forward, closing his mouth over her lower lip and drawing on it gently, capturing the drop and taking it into his mouth.

Elvi drew in a small gasp of surprise and Victor took full advantage. Shifting, he covered both her lips, allowing his tongue to fill the space between. She tasted sweet and smelled of vanilla, the aroma of home-baked cookies. Victor had an urge to eat her up. It was a reaction he hadn’t had since his wife had died and was impossible for him to ignore. Giving into it, he used his tongue to urge her mouth farther open, slid one hand up to her head to tilt it, then deepened the kiss even as his other hand slid around her waist to flatten against her lower spine and urge her body forward.

Elvi moaned into his mouth, her own hands creeping to his arms and clutching as he let the hand at her back drift down to the edge of the towel and slip beneath to close over one firm cheek of her behind.

It was the stomp of feet on the stairs leading to the deck that made him stop. Breaking the kiss, Victor glanced toward the open door to the sunroom, cursing himself for not closing it. He released Elvi with an apology and stepped away, pausing abruptly and bending to catch at her towel as it began to drift to the floor. When his hand closed over it, he found his face directly in front of one round breast, its nipple a puckered rose.

Victor closed his eyes briefly against the temptation, then forced himself upward and wrapped the towel around her. He then placed her hand over it, turned her toward the bathroom and gave her a gentle push back into the room as someone knocked at the sunroom door.

“I’ll get that,” he murmured, pulling the bathroom door closed behind her. Then Victor took a moment to run his fingers through his hair, gave his head a shake to get it working again, and moved into the sunroom.

Eleven

“Sorry,” DJ said when Victor opened the door. “We were starting to get worried. First Elvi went to unlock the door and didn’t return, and then you went with the same result. We thought maybe something was wrong.”

Alessandro nodded from his position on the step below DJ.

“No. Nothing wrong,” Victor assured them. “Elvi just forgot and went to take a bath.”

“Ah,” DJ murmured, and then raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting an explanation for his own failure to unlock it.

Victor ignored the look. He stood there, solid as stone, waiting.

“Alessandro has to use the facilities and I need a bag of blood. I haven’t eaten all day,” DJ announced when Victor remained silent.

“Oh.” Victor hesitated, his gaze moving to the closed bathroom door and then he reluctantly stepped back and gestured them in.

“Thank you,” Alessandro said as he slipped out through the bedroom door Victor opened a moment later. “I unlock door to kitchen on my way back out.”

“Good.” Victor nodded, and then glanced to DJ expectantly. Rather than leave, the man turned a serious look his way and said, “Have you fed today?”

Victor scowled. He wasn’t a child to be chased after. Besides, the answer was no. He should have slipped out before cooking when he got up, but he’d wanted to be sure that breakfast was ready when Elvi awoke, so hadn’t. He hadn’t even thought of feeding since then, though now that DJ mentioned it, his stomach was beginning to cramp.

“You haven’t, have you?” DJ’s voice was full of the “Ah-ha!” factor. “I thought you looked pale.”

“I’ll see to it,” Victor assured him, though there were other things he wanted to see to first.

DJ nodded, “I’ll come with you. I can help keep an eye out and we need to talk anyway.”

Victor scowled. He didn’t want to feed now. He didn’t want to talk now. He wanted Elvi. However, it didn’t look like he was going to get what he wanted. DJ was waiting expectantly.

Sighing, he cast one regret-filled glance toward the closed bathroom door, and then stepped out in the hall, pulling the door quietly closed behind him.

“Edward mentioned something about an arrow being shot at you this evening,” DJ announced abruptly as they started up the street moments later. He eyed Victor with concern. “What was that all about?”

Victor grimaced and quickly explained what had happened. He also mentioned Elvi’s thoughts that it had been an accident, but that if it hadn’t been, he had been the most likely target.

“You?” DJ asked with surprise. “Why would she think you were the target?”

Victor turned to the right as they reached Main Street. It was just after two A.M. on a Saturday night, closing time for the bars. The sidewalk was full of people making their way home. Victor’s gaze slid predatorily over them as he explained, “She says she’s lived in this area her whole life and no one has ever tried to harm her. As the outsider, she thinks I am the more likely victim.”

He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous reasoning, but DJ was looking thoughtful.

“Hmm,” he said finally.

“Hmm?” Victor echoed with disbelief. “DJ, no one would have any reason to try to kill me.”

“Hmm.” DJ didn’t look convinced, which actually made Victor take pause.

“What are you thinking?” he asked warily, his steps slowing.

DJ shrugged and released a little breath. “Well, I was thinking that if she’s never had any trouble with the people of Port Henry or the surrounding area in the five years since she was turned, then it isn’t likely they would try to kill her now.”

“True, but there’s no reason for them to kill me either,” Victor said sharply.

“Well…” DJ had a sort of wince on his face.

“What?”

“There is that stake bit,” he said reluctantly.

“What stake bit?”

“You know. When you thought Elvi was going to bite that Owen kid and you charged through the restaurant to stake her.” He shrugged. “Someone may not have believed that baloney about returning the stake as an excuse to see her. They might be trying to protect Elvi from you.”

Victor frowned over the possibility. He’d forgotten that little incident. Now, he wondered…

“Where were the other men?” DJ asked suddenly.

Victor glanced at him with surprise. “Around in front of the store. Why?”

“They were all there?”

“Yes,” Victor said. “Well, no. Edward wasn’t there when I first rejoined them.”

“Where was he?”

“He’d gone to ‘find a handy bush,’ Victor quoted the man. “He came around the opposite side of the building a moment later, though. Why? What are you thinking?”

DJ shrugged. “It might have been one of them.”

Victor’s head whipped around. “Why would one of them shoot at me?”

“To eliminate the competition?” he suggested.

Victor stopped walking and stared at him with confusion. “What competition?”

“For Elvi,” DJ said patiently.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Victor waved it away as ridiculous and started walking again. “They’ve probably all read her by now and found they can and she isn’t their lifemate.”

“Then why are they still here?” DJ asked reasonably.

Victor paused to think on that, but finally shook his head, unwilling to even consider that one of the other men was a lifemate to the woman he was lusting after. A feeling he hadn’t had in a very, very long time and wasn’t willing to ignore for anyone’s sake.

“I don’t know why they’re still here,” Victor admitted. “But they can’t all be her lifemate.”

“No?” DJ asked. “What about that story Harper told us the first night? About his friend and the friend’s cousin who both met a woman they couldn’t read?”

The reminder of the story made his stomach turn, which in turn reminded him of why they were out there on Port Henry’s streets. To feed. As Victor had told Elvi, it was against their laws to feed on a mortal unless it was an emergency. For Victor, it was always an emergency. He’d been born with a genetic anomaly that wouldn’t allow him to survive on bagged blood. He could consume all the bagged blood he wanted, but it was useless. He had to feed off the hoof to survive.

They were passing a park between two buildings and Victor glanced into it, noting a couple staggering through the walkway toward the parking lot on the other side. The man was obviously drunk and held no interest for him. Victor didn’t wish to be intoxicated himself. The woman on the other hand had consumed a couple drinks but was only at the relaxed stage. She was stumbling under the weight of her much bigger boyfriend as she tried to steer him toward the parking lot ahead.

Victor turned into the park to offer his assistance; he would take only a small bit of blood in return for his aid. It was a fair trade to his mind. DJ followed.

Fifteen minutes and three couples later, Victor led DJ out of the park, headed for Casey Cottage.

“I suppose there is one other possibility,” the young immortal said, returning to the topic they’d been discussing earlier as if it had never been interrupted.

“What’s that?” Victor asked.

“Her sire.”

Victor glanced at him with surprise. “Her sire? What sire? According to Elvi, she doesn’t have one.”

“Yes, but we know that’s not possible,” DJ pointed out. “One of our kind had to have given her blood…and whoever it is may be trying to kill Elvi. Perhaps he’s found out that the council is snooping around. Maybe he’d already turned someone else, she was a second turn, and this would put him in deep trouble with the council. Maybe he’s trying to kill Elvi before we can discover who he is.”

Victor was silent, not wanting to believe this theory, yet unable to pooh-pooh it as he had the others. Someone had turned Elvi. And they hadn’t laid claim to her and trained her as a proper sire should. Even if she wasn’t a second turn for this unknown immortal, he would be in trouble for that. Deep trouble. Silencing her could save his neck.

“So we still can’t be sure who the arrow was meant for,” Victor muttered.

DJ nodded, and then asked, “Can you read her?”

Mouth tightening with irritation, Victor admitted, “I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”

“Why?” DJ asked with surprise.

“I just didn’t think of it,” Victor admitted, feeling foolish. He should have tried to read her if for no other reason than it would have sped up their work on this case. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of reading her? he wondered.

Because she was distracting him with her intoxicating scent every time he was near her, and that damned wide, open, guileless smile and those big beautiful eyes, his mind answered.

“I bet you can’t read her,” DJ said suddenly. “I bet she’s just unreadable.”

Victor frowned. “Can’t you read her?”

“I haven’t tried,” DJ admitted. “I didn’t bother after I found I couldn’t read Mabel.” His eyes suddenly widened incredulously. “Maybe it’s just the whole town. Maybe no one here can be read.”

“What?” Victor asked with surprise.

“Yeah,” DJ said, suddenly cheering. “Maybe it’s something in the water here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Victor muttered.

“No, listen,” DJ insisted. “I can’t read Mabel, and none of the men can read Elvi.”

“They can’t?” He glanced at him with alarm. “They’ve admitted as much to you?”

“Well…” DJ shrugged. “Edward claims he can and is only staying because there is so much interesting architecture in Port Henry, and Alessandro says he can, but the women here are so “bella” he decided to stay the whole week, but…” He arched his eyebrows dubiously. “Come on, do you believe either story?”

Victor frowned. He hadn’t considered that the others might not be able to read her. In his mind, he was slowly claiming Elvi himself. He didn’t like the idea that he might have some competition.

“I think if they could read her they’d be gone already,” DJ said with certainty. “Neither of them were thrilled about coming here, and the first night they were saying they were out of here the first chance they got if they couldn’t read her…But they’re still here.” He shook his head. “They’re lying. Neither of them can read her either.”

“Why lie?” Victor asked with a frown.

DJ shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they’re waiting to see what happens with the council.”

Victor grimaced. At the rate he’d been working, or not working as the case may be, they’d have a long wait to see what happened with the council. Raising his eyebrows in question, he asked, “What about Harper?”

DJ pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to ask him yet, but I suspect he can’t read her either…which just proves my point. Have you ever heard of three or four immortals not being able to read someone?” He didn’t give Victor a chance to answer, but went on: “It has to be something in the water here. Or the ground or something. It makes the whole damned town unreadable.”

Victor blinked in surprise at the suggestion and at the man’s pleasure in thinking that Mabel might not be his lifemate, that he simply couldn’t read her because the town was unreadable. But then he recalled the hard time the woman had been giving DJ and supposed it might almost be a relief to the man to think he didn’t have to woo her around to his side. He was almost sorry to disabuse him of the possibility, but he did anyway, announcing, “I read Teddy Brunswick the first night we were here.”

“Oh.” DJ looked disappointed, and then brightened and said, “Maybe it just affects the women. Maybe the men are all still wide open, but the women are blocked.”

Victor was horrified at this possibility. If so, it might mean Elvi wasn’t his lifemate after all and that all these hopes that had reawakened the last few days might be just empty wishes.

He froze on the sidewalk, his mind in sudden turmoil. It might mean Elvi wasn’t his lifemate after all? When had he decided she might be his lifemate? Sure, he was eating again, and okay, so he’d nearly had a heart attack when she’d fainted at the breakfast table that night, and, yes, he’d found it thoroughly enjoyable having her perched in his lap in the car, burrowing into him as if he were the only safe port in a storm. He’d also been secretly pleased when the sales manager had recognized that they were a couple. And he wouldn’t deny that he was lusting after her, the first woman he’d lusted after for over three hundred years, but…a lifemate?

He could still feel her in his arms and taste her on his tongue and he wanted to feel and taste a lot more.

Crap, Victor thought with dismay. He wanted her for a lifemate. And while he hadn’t tried, so had no idea if he could read her or not, DJ was suggesting that even if he couldn’t, it might just be some town-wide anomaly. The women here might just be unreadable, period. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

“Victor?”

DJ’s voice startled him from his thoughts and Victor glanced around at the dark street. They were at the corner of Elvi’s road. The streets were now empty, not another female resident in sight and he suddenly needed another Port Henry female.

“Mabel,” he muttered and started to walk again, moving quickly now.

“What about Mabel? Where are you going?” DJ asked anxiously, hurrying to keep up.

“To find Mabel,” Victor said abruptly as he reached the gate to Casey Cottage and tugged it open.

“She’s gone to bed,” DJ said, following him to the front door of the house.

“Good,” he snapped. “Then she’ll be easy to find.”

“Victor!” he cried with alarm.

When the man rushed after him and tried to catch his arm to stop him, Victor waved him away as if he were an irritating gnat. “I’m sorting this out right now.”

“But—”

“There are no buts,” he argued. “If the women in this town are unreadable, I want to know it. It affects everything. Unreadables are almost impossible to wipe and this whole damned town needs wiping. And what the hell are we going to do if we can’t wipe them? What will the council do?” While it wasn’t really his main concern at the moment, it was a concern, and would do to explain his sudden determination.

“What will the council do?” DJ asked with dismay.

“I don’t know,” Victor admitted as he opened the front door of Casey Cottage and led the way inside. “But it won’t be good. We can’t have a whole town full of people knowing about us. The chance of one of them talking is astronomical. The council won’t stand for it.”

“Damn,” DJ breathed, trailing him up the winding staircase to the second floor.

Stopping at Mabel’s door, Victor raised a hand to knock, and then decided against it. If the woman was sleeping, he could slip into her mind and see if he could read it without ever disturbing her. If not, he’d claim he’d thought it was Elvi’s room. Nodding to himself, he reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

Mabel wasn’t asleep. She was sitting up in bed, glasses perched on her nose, and one of those torrid female romance books in her hands. She glanced up with surprise at the intrusion, and then scowled when she saw Victor standing there with DJ hovering behind.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” she asked sharply. “What do you want?”

Victor didn’t bother to answer; instead he concentrated on her forehead and sent his thoughts out to find hers. Much to his relief, he slipped into her mind like a warm knife through soft butter. His jaw immediately dropped at the thoughts and feelings whirling there.

Mabel wasn’t as hard core as she’d have them believe. In fact, she was as soft as a roasted marshmallow. The hard outer casing was just a protective shell she put on to deal with the world. Her husband had been a weak man and she’d been forced to deal with everything the least bit difficult in life, from disciplining their children to handling recalcitrant servicemen and so on. Mabel hadn’t been comfortable dealing with everything unsupported and had longed for her husband to be the strong male he’d seemed to be while courting her.

She’d been so unhappy, she might have divorced him, but had been pregnant with their first child by the time she’d learned the weak nature his macho approach had hidden. That hadn’t seemed like a good enough reason to break up a family. After all, he wasn’t a wife beater or alcoholic, she’d told herself and struggled on, taking on all the hard tasks in life in his stead.

That wasn’t what had Victor’s jaw dropping, however. That didn’t surprise him at all. Her love and concern for Elvi had already told him she wasn’t the hard case she liked to project. What made his jaw drop was the small tornado of turmoil she was suffering at their appearance.

There was no confusion in the woman’s mind over Victor, his presence just annoyed her, but DJ was another matter. Mabel liked the younger immortal, which didn’t bother her as much as the fact that she found him unbearably attractive. His appearance raised all sorts of longings in her and a lust like nothing she’d experienced since she was a teenager. This in turn caused guilt and horror because she thought he was so much younger than her and she thought it was disgusting to have erotic fantasies and dreams about a boy no older than her own son. The woman was finding the whole situation unbearable and heart wrenching.

“Well?” Mabel snapped the word, but he knew that her self-disgust made her tone sharper than she’d intended.

“Victor?” DJ hissed and he didn’t need to read the immortal’s mind to know what he was asking. Could he read Mabel?

“Yes,” Victor said to answer DJ’s question and the realization that washed over the man’s face as he accepted that she was, indeed, his lifemate was enough to make up his mind on how to answer Mabel. His own situation may be a mess, but DJ’s didn’t have to be.

“Hellooo!” Mabel said with irritation. “Is there a reason you’ve barged into my room in the middle of the night? Did you want something?”

“I don’t, but DJ does. He wants you,” Victor answered, collaring the younger immortal and shoving him into the room. Ignoring DJ’s embarrassed protestations and Mabel’s horrified squawking, Victor started to close the door, then paused. “Despite his looks, he’s one hundred and eleven years old, Mabel. An older man, not a young stud. There’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy each other. You can stop feeling guilty for lusting after him.”

Victor pulled the door closed, but didn’t leave; instead he waited and listened, then even stooped to peer through the keyhole when the silence in the room drew out. He would just stay long enough to be sure DJ didn’t screw it up and they didn’t need further refereeing. By his guess, DJ was either about to land his lifemate, or mess up everything.

“Did he say one hundred and eleven?” Mabel asked in a whisper after several moments of silence.

DJ cleared his throat, then finally looked at Mabel and nodded solemnly. “One hundred and twelve actually. I just had a birthday last week.”

Mabel sank back against the headboard, her hands dropping weakly to her lap and taking the book with them. “One hundred and twelve,” she murmured faintly, obviously having difficulty wrapping her mind around that and unsure what it meant for her.

DJ was still for so long that Victor nearly opened the door and shouted at him to get to it, but then the man suddenly straightened his shoulders and moved toward the bed. “He was also telling the truth when he said that I want you, Mabel.”

“You mean to feed on?” she asked uncertainly.

“No.” DJ’s voice was strong now and assured as he moved around the bed and approached her. “I want you. I find you endlessly fascinating, amusing and exciting. I want you. Your body, your mind, your heart. All of you.”

“No, you don’t,” she said with certainty. “I’m old.”

“I’m older, and always will be,” DJ countered easily.

“But I look old,” Mabel shot back, eyes widening as he drew nearer. She began to pull the blankets up to her chin.

“I love the way you look,” DJ said simply.

“Then you need glasses,” Mabel said grimly. “My face is as wrinkled as a prune.”

“Your face is marked with the lines of life, put there by love and laughter, suffering and tears. It’s beautiful.” DJ paused beside the bed and eased slowly to sit next to her.

“But—”

DJ didn’t wait for her to voice more fears. Leaning forward, he kissed first her forehead, then her eyes, forcing her to close them, and then he kissed her on the mouth. It was a hot kiss and Victor had to bite his lip to keep from shouting out “’Atta boy!”

He almost left then, but waited to see whether she’d toss him out, or give in to the inevitable. Women could be difficult in these situations. Immortals knew that once they found a member of the opposite sex they couldn’t read, they’d found their lifemate and accepted it as bond. Mortals generally took a little time to come around, fearing rushing into things and making mistakes.

DJ ended the kiss and sat back, giving her a chance to respond; both he, and Victor in the hall, waited with bated breath.

She simply sat there staring at him, her face an expressway with conflicting and confused thoughts flashing past like cars. Finally, she tossed aside the book she’d been reading, and reached for DJ.

“That a girl, Mabel,” Victor breathed and started to straighten, then jerked upright at the slam of a door up the hall. Turning with alarm, he found Elvi in front of her door.

Twelve

“It’s not what you think,” Victor said as he hurried down the stairs after Elvi. “Really. I was just trying to help DJ.”

“By playing Peeping Tom on Mabel?” she asked with disbelief, flouncing off the stairs in her blue robe and turning into the dining room. “What? Were you supposed to report back to DJ on what she wears to bed?”

“No, of course not,” he said quickly. “Besides he knows. He’s in there with her.”

Elvi froze and whirled back. “What?”

“That probably wasn’t the best way to go about explaining things,” Victor muttered.

“What is DJ doing up there?” Anger replaced by concern, Elvi rushed back now, hurrying past him for the stairs, obviously intent on saving Mabel.

Cursing, Victor hurried after her.

“Wait, stop, you’ll ruin everything,” he hissed, catching up to her and grabbing her arm to stop her outside the bedroom door.

Elvi whirled, mouth open, no doubt to yell at him to let her go, but they both froze at the sudden cry that came through the bedroom door. Mouth snapping closed, she spun back to grab the bedroom door, but froze again as Mabel’s voice came loud and clear, gasping, “Oh, DJ! God, yes!”

Blinking, she released the knob as if it had turned into a snake and stared at the closed door as if she’d never seen it before.

A growl—definitely DJ’s—sounded, almost drowning out the rhythmic squeaking of the antique bed that left them in no doubt as to what was happening beyond the door.

“He works fast,” Victor muttered with surprise, and then shrugged. The first time with a lifemate was always fast and furious, the pent-up longings and flashpoint passions bursting into flames and burning them both up quickly as they fed on each other’s desire. If Victor was very lucky, he might get to experience that very thing soon.

Briefly, he added on a sigh. If Elvi was his lifemate, fate couldn’t have handed him a worse hand. The last thing he would have hoped for was a lifemate who might very well be executed by the council. It wasn’t exactly every immortal’s dream woman.

“What are they doing?” Elvi asked uncertainly.

Victor peered at her with disbelief, then caught his hands behind his back and stared at the hall wall, refusing to meet her gaze. He was not explaining what was going on in that room. She was old enough to know what it was anyway and was—he was sure—just having difficulty believing that her sturdy, grumpy friend could make sounds like that.

He was rather surprised himself, Victor decided, as Mabel cried, “Harder. Oh yes! Oh, DJ! Oh God, yes! Ride me till the cows come home!”

Victor blinked at that, and then asked uncertainly, “Did she grow up on a dairy farm?”

Elvi opened her mouth, closed it again, then threw up her hands and whirled away as Mabel shouted something about stallions and saddles.

Victor’s gaze dropped to the keyhole, but he shook his head and turned to follow Elvi. DJ was on his own.

Elvi’s back was stiff as she descended the stairs once more.

Victor followed, searching his mind for something to say to ease the situation, but really, this was beyond him so he remained silent as he followed her through the dining room and around the counter into the kitchen. Elvi opened the refrigerator to consider its contents, and Victor glanced out the window to see that the fire was out and the men were now gone. He supposed they’d gone to their rooms while he was out with DJ.

The slam of the refrigerator door drew his startled gaze as Elvi turned on him.

“If he’s messing with her feelings I will personally hide him,” she warned through gritted teeth.

“He isn’t,” Victor assured her quickly. “He can’t read her.”

“And what the hell am I supposed to take that to mean?” she asked with mingled anger and bewilderment.

“It means she’s his lifemate,” Victor explained. “He won’t hurt her.”

“His lifemate,” Elvi echoed, obviously confused, and he was reminded that she hadn’t been taught all the things he’d been taught centuries ago and took for granted.

“Each of us has a lifemate,” he explained. “Someone we can’t read or control who is our perfect mate. Mabel is DJ’s.”

“But Mabel isn’t a vampire,” she said.

“An immortal,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” Elvi snapped. “She is mortal. How can she be his lifemate?”

“She isn’t an immortal yet,” Victor corrected. “If she agrees to be his lifemate, he will change her.”

“He can do that?” she asked with amazement.

“Of course. DJ has never turned anyone, so by our laws is free to turn her if he wishes.”

“That makes absolutely no sense to me,” Elvi informed him on an unhappy sigh. “But what I meant was…Can he actually, physically turn her? I mean, I tried several times to turn Mabel. The books say biting them three times will do it, but I must have bit her a dozen times and she never turned. We kept trying and trying, but—”

“You tried to turn Mabel?” Victor asked with horror.

“Well, of course,” she said, obviously surprised by his reaction. “We’ve been friends since childhood and suddenly I was young again and strong and she wanted to be too, and I didn’t want to be alone in this.”

Victor opened his mouth, thought better of what he’d been about to say, shook his head and instead said, “They have to consume or take in your blood. The sire has to give up their own blood. It carries the nanos. They’ll move into the turnee’s bloodstream, reproduce themselves, and spread until they infect the whole body.”

“Right. Nanos,” Elvi muttered to herself. She’d been pondering that while in her bath earlier. Considering what the men had said had left her feeling slightly deflated. As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost sorry to hear she was a vampire because of nanos, not a curse. It was ridiculous, she knew but…that was how she felt.

Her dissatisfaction must have shown in her voice. Victor’s eyebrows rose and he asked, “What?”

Elvi grimaced, and then shook her head. “It’s just so…Well, there’s no romance in nanos and science and…stuff.”

“And there is in the explanation of the cursed and soulless walking dead?” he asked with disbelief.

She scowled, feeling foolish. “Well, at least the vampire is a tragic hero and not some science experiment.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “The Dracula of Bram Stoker’s story is not a tragic hero. He’s a parasite, feeding on and turning the innocent willynilly, and the man he’s based on damned near got us all destroyed back in the day.”

“Dracula was based on a real person?” Elvi asked with interest. “Can I meet him?”

“No,” Victor snapped. “He’s dead.”

“How could he be dead?” she asked. “We’re immortal.”

“No, we’re not. I mean, we are mostly, but we can die if we’re beheaded or—”

“Staked?” she asked.

“Staked, stabbed, or being shot in the heart can kill us if the implement used is left there. As will being burnt to death.”

“Hmm.” She considered this news, and then frowned. “Then why on earth do you keep insisting I call it immortal? We aren’t immortal at all. We’re vampires.”

Before he could respond to that, Elvi said, “So how did this man Dracula was based on nearly get you all destroyed?”

Victor’s mouth twisted with irritation. This was a sore spot for him. “By being a bloody, stupid lush who mouthed off to Stoker and told him all about our kind while he was drunk. We had managed to get away with only causing quiet rumors ere that. Once Jean Claude opened his stupid mouth and Stoker published his book, we were hunted. It took decades to convince the majority that it was all fiction and we still have to wipe minds and stop the occasional vampire stalker.”

“Immortal stalker,” she corrected absently, and then asked, “So Dracula was based on someone named Jean Claude. Who was he?”

“Not exactly based on him, no, and I’m not discussing this,” Victor muttered and moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a bag of blood for her. She was looking pale

“So you have to give them your blood,” Elvi said, returning to the original point. “Huh. I must have missed that part of the movie.”

“What movie?” he asked with confusion as he handed her the bag.

“Dracula. I must have been in the bathroom or something when he fed her his blood. I don’t remember seeing that,” Elvi explained and popped the bag to her teeth.

“What?” This comment so took him aback, that Victor unthinkingly snatched the bag away from her mouth so that she could answer, and then dropped it in surprise when it began to squirt blood everywhere. He started to bend to pick it up, but then stopped, unable to keep from asking with disbelief, “You researched by watching the movie rather than reading the damned book?”

Tsking at the mess he’d made, Elvi grabbed some paper towels from the roll, snapping, “Well, the book was checked out of the library and I wanted to learn as much as I could as quickly as I could. Movies are faster than books.”

Victor rolled his eyes and muttered, “Definitely a child of your times. It used to be that university kids read the crib sheets on books they were supposed to read, now they watch the movie.”

Holding the wadded-up paper towel, Elvi narrowed her eyes. “You know, Victor, sometimes you sound as pompous as a horse’s ass.”

“Mabel wasn’t the only one brought up on a farm, I see,” he said stiffly, then asked politely, “Are horse’s asses really pompous?”

“God! Sometimes you’re such a…a…man.”

“Good of you to notice,” Victor responded with a grin and the irritation slowly faded from her face, replaced with a reluctant smile.

Several moments passed with the two of them simply standing there smiling at each other, and then Victor’s eyes focused on her forehead as he thought that he should try to read her and find out exactly where he stood. Before he could, Elvi’s tongue slipped out to glide along her lips. It was a nervous action, but as seductive and distracting as could be and he found his gaze shifting to her lips instead. She had the most incredible mouth. Full, red lips that begged to be caressed and kissed and he already knew they were as soft as they appeared. He found himself moving slowly forward, his focus locked on her lips and what they would feel and taste like and nothing else.

“Victor?” Elvi said uncertainly.

“I want to kiss you.” It wasn’t a request, but an explanation and her answer was a soft puff of air that came out as an “oh.”

Taking that as agreement, he closed his lips over hers. They were soft pillows, giving way to his firmer mouth. Victor abruptly slipped his tongue out to urge her lips apart and test her taste.

Sweet, he decided. She’d obviously had chocolate since they last kissed. She must have it stashed somewhere in her room. He liked the taste of chocolate mingled with her, he decided. It was the last almost coherent thought he had, then his brain disengaged, allowing his body’s wants and needs to take over the driver’s seat.

Elvi stood completely still, almost holding her breath as Victor’s mouth pressed gently against hers. She was suffering a definite sense of déjà vu. All the feelings and needs he’d brought to roaring life in her body up in her room, needs that had been forced onto the back burner when they were interrupted, now burst back to raging life. When he suddenly pressed forward, urging her head back as his tongue slid out and invaded, she drew in a gasp and dropped the paper towel she’d gathered to clean up the blood on the floor and caught at his upper arms to steady herself.

For one moment, Elvi felt like an invaded country, overwhelmed and unprepared, but then his tongue rasped over her own, drawing a moan from her throat as he reawakened and pulled passions from her she hadn’t felt in years. Her body stretched and arched of its own accord, pressing her breasts against his chest and thrusting her pelvis forward until it met a hard resistance that pressed back.

Elvi groaned, her own tongue coming to life in her mouth and greeting his with an eager, lavish welcome.

She felt the counter against her back, but her attention was on his body pressing against her in front and the hunger it invoked. It had been so long since she’d been held and kissed this way. She was like a flower opening to sunlight after years of night. Her body ached to be touched and ached to touch as well.

Elvi let her hands slide up over his shoulders to his neck, one holding him there and urging him to take the kiss even deeper. The other slid up into his hair, nails scraping across the skin of his scalp as the soft locks caressed her fingers.

Victor growled and obliged the silent request. The kiss was suddenly harder, more demanding, and his hands began to move, sliding first around her waist then down to her behind to urge her closer until her body was plastered against his. Then one slid away, to run up over her hip and side, swiveling around in front as he reached her breast.

Passion had pooled between her legs as he ground into her, but Elvi gave a start in his arms at the excitement that immediately shot through her when his hand closed over her breast through the silk of her robe. Her nipples were immediately hard and aching, thrusting themselves eagerly forward for a caress they hadn’t experienced in ages.

“Oh, Victor,” she breathed as his mouth left hers and slid to her neck, drawing on the tender skin below her ear. He wasn’t biting her, but she almost wished he would. Elvi wanted to bite him and could feel the pressure as her teeth shifted.

Crying out, she tilted her head back to avoid temptation, and stared blindly at the lights overhead as the blood rushed through her, hot with excitement. She wanted him; his kisses, his caresses, his body thrusting into hers, her teeth plunging into him, his sinking into her. Elvi’s mind whirled with images and desires that scattered like dry leaves in a fall breeze when he suddenly tugged the neckline of her robe aside and dropped his mouth to latch onto a nipple.

Elvi clutched at his shoulders briefly, then began to tug on the back of his T-shirt, pulling the cloth upward until it bunched at his arms and she could touch the bare skin of his back. It wasn’t enough. Growling deep in her throat, she caught her fingers in his hair and urged his head back up. Victor came reluctantly, allowing her nipple to slip from his lips and catching the naked breast in his hand as he raised his head to kiss her again.

Their tongues fought now, battling with their desires as she slid her hands under his T-shirt in front and scraped her nails over his flesh. His chest was hard and wide and muscular, a veritable playground, but her hands barely ran over all that masculine muscle before one dropped of its own accord and slid around to clutch at his behind, urging him harder against her until they were grinding through their clothes.

Victor growled at her aggression and suddenly reached down to catch her behind the thighs and lift her up, balancing her against the countertop as he pulled one leg forward around him. Elvi gasped as he suddenly tugged her robe the rest of the way open, then his hand slid between them, caressing her through her silk panties. The only thing she’d donned under the robe.

Crying out, she arched into the touch, aware that her body was weeping, soaking her panties with her need for him. Everything of any importance in the world suddenly seemed focused on that hot spot between her legs that he was stirring to turbulent life. She was aware that her breathing had become a fast, shallow panting, but it halted abruptly when he slid one finger beneath her lace panties and ran it over her bare flesh. Elvi sucked frantically at his tongue as her body bucked to his touch.

Her hand slid between them now too, finding him through his jeans and squeezing. Victor’s reaction was almost violent. He thrust himself into that caress, then suddenly forced her hand away, caught his fingers in the delicate lace of her panties, and tugged sharply, ripping them from her body.

Elvi gasped in startled excitement, and then groaned as his hand returned to caressing her. Unobstructed, he cupped her in his hand and pressed the heel of his palm against the core of her, rubbing aggressively, and then slid one finger inside.

Elvi cried out, her hips shifting to meet the caress, and then cried out again as his mouth slid down her throat to her breast, his teeth grazing her nipple before he closed his mouth and began to suckle, his finger slipping away then thrusting into her again.

Elvi was on the edge of exploding from the pleasure. Her body was as tight as a bow string, her mind a confusion of need, sound was thundering in her ears and then—Victor suddenly jumped away from her like a rat abandoning ship.

Without his support, her trembling legs gave out and Elvi fell to her knees on the kitchen floor, a mass of confusion and frustration.

“There you are, Victor.”

Elvi heard Edward Kenric’s voice through her own panting and immediately understood that the thundering had been his jogging lightly down the stairs. She also understood why Victor was now standing wide-eyed at the end of the counter, a guilty look on his face. They’d nearly been caught misbehaving in the kitchen. Actually, they still might be caught, Elvi realized, when she spotted her torn panties lying on the floor next to the spilled bag of blood a few feet away.

If Edward came around the counter…

“I have a question for you,” Kenric continued and much to her horror his voice was moving along the counter toward the end.

Panicking, she scrambled forward on all fours to snatch up her panties.

“Have you—Oh, Elvi.”

She’d just stuffed her panties in the pocket of her robe, tied it closed, and snatched up the paper towel she’d dropped earlier when Edward came around the counter to join Victor.

“Hello, Edward.” Forcing an innocent smile, Elvi began to swipe at the drying blood on the floor, then paused to snatch up the empty blood bag and toss it up and—she hoped—into the sink, before continuing to clean up the mess on the floor as if that’s what she’d been doing all along.

“I didn’t realize you were here as well. Can I help you with that?” he asked, moving closer.

“No, no. It’s almost done. You go on and talk to Victor. Take him out on the deck if you want privacy,” she encouraged. “I’ll be done here in just a moment.”

“If you’re sure,” he said politely, then turned to Victor and said, “If you wouldn’t mind?”

Victor hesitated, then gave in to the inevitable and led the way out onto the deck.

Elvi sagged where she knelt, feeling as wrung out as a dishcloth. She only allowed herself a moment’s respite, however, then quickly finished wiping up the blood on the floor. Once done, she stood and threw out the paper towel, then grabbed the empty blood bag from the sink and tossed it as well before moving to the refrigerator to collect a fresh bag of blood for herself. It was the reason she’d been headed downstairs in the first place, but she’d allowed herself to be distracted.

Her gaze slid to the counter where she’d almost had her first orgasm as a…well…not dead person.

Elvi took her bag with her and fled the kitchen. Now that the passion had passed she was embarrassed and unsure how to act with Victor. Dear Lord, she barely knew the man and had nearly had sex with him right there on the kitchen counter for anyone to walk in and catch them at it. What was the matter with her?

What’s wrong with us? Elvi corrected silently as she moved past Mabel’s room and heard the sounds coming from inside. She felt a moment’s envy and had a brief flash in her mind of her and Victor making love in her…coffin, she ended the thought with a grimace as she recalled she didn’t yet have a bed, then pushed the image away with a shake of the head.

For God’s sake she—and Mabel—were both sixty-two-year-old women, practically senior citizens, both of whom had lived sedate, conservative lives. They were small-town girls who’d married their childhood sweethearts. She’d had no other lover other than her husband and knew the same was true of Mabel, and yet here they were acting like a couple of tramps.

Elvi managed not to roll her eyes at her own thoughts. She knew it was an old-fashioned term and that her thinking, too, was old-fashioned. But that was what she was, an old-fashioned, small-town girl who suddenly found herself behaving completely out of character.

Worse yet, while Elvi was aware she should be grateful that Edward had interrupted before things had gone any further, she really wished the annoying man had just stuck to his damned room and not interrupted at all. She’d had a taste of the delights Victor could show her and wanted more.

“Damn,” Elvi muttered. She never should have come down for a bag of blood before retiring. And what had happened to the “I’m not ready to date?” feelings that had first attacked her on hearing these men were here. Now she didn’t care about dating, she wanted to sleep with one of them. She supposed that was a good thing at least. There was only one she was interested in sleeping with.

A passionate scream drew her gaze back over her shoulder to Mabel’s door as she slid into her own room. Elvi wished she could talk to the woman, but, of course, that was impossible right now. It looked like she would just have to wait until DJ left. In the meantime, she’d take a cold shower, change into her nightgown, and probably relive every moment in the kitchen in great detail. Damn, the man could kiss.

Thirteen

Elvi woke Monday evening with a smile on her face as she stretched luxuriously in her lovely new bed. Sunday had been a great day. She’d woken late and gone below to find that her bed had been delivered. Not willing to disturb her, they’d made the delivery men put it in the foyer to await her rising.

The moment she made an appearance, they’d moved her coffin out and carried her bed up. When asked what she wanted done with the casket, Elvi had grimaced and muttered, “Burn it.” The men had taken her at her word. While Victor and Edward had set up the plain metal frame that came with the bed, Alessandro and Harper had taken axes to her coffin, turning it into tinder.

They’d then built a fire, roasting hotdogs over the flaming remains of her casket. When it began to rain later in the evening, Elvi and the men had moved indoors and turned to a deck of cards for their entertainment. On learning that Elvi had never played poker, they’d decided to teach her and they’d spent an enjoyable evening laughing, talking, and taking all her chips.

Elvi stretched again on her lovely new bed and opened her eyes with a little sigh. While Sunday had been nice for the most part, she’d found it a bit stressful as well—as she worked to avoid being alone with Victor. It had been an act of pure cowardice on her part. She didn’t know how she should act around him after the episode in the kitchen and so avoided any situation where she couldn’t treat him as anything but one of the “guys.”

Now she had another day of doing that ahead of her.

Making a face at the ceiling, Elvi reluctantly pushed the sheets off and climbed out of her lovely new bed. She’d slept like a dream. Too well actually. Elvi had hoped to get up early enough today to spend some time out in daylight for the first time in five years. She’d hoped to look over her garden and enjoy the sun on her face, but could tell from one glance at the window that the sun had already set.

It was her own fault, Elvi supposed; she’d retired to her room early, but stayed up waiting for Mabel and DJ to get home from the restaurant so she could finally talk to the woman. She’d never got the chance on Saturday night. DJ simply hadn’t left Mabel’s room, from what she could tell. At least he hadn’t by the time she’d given up and fallen asleep. Then Sunday the couple had already been up and gone when she got up. Hopefully, she’d get the chance to talk to her today. Elvi could use some advice on how to deal with Victor. She couldn’t avoid him indefinitely.

Elvi didn’t bother drying her hair when she got out of the shower, instead she simply brushed it back and left it to dry on its own, then quickly dressed in a peasant blouse and festive cotton Mexican skirt and headed below. Normally, she’d be heading to the restaurant tonight, but she wasn’t sure at this point what would be expected of her. They had houseguests after all. Once she knew what she was doing, she could change accordingly.

When Elvi first made her way downstairs and glanced around, she thought she was the only one there, then the door to the deck opened and Victor stepped inside.

He paused on first spotting her, then murmured a greeting and moved to the refrigerator. Retrieving a bag of blood, he held it out and asked, “How was the new bed?”

Despite her uncertainty, Elvi felt a smile stretch her mouth. “Marvelous.”

“Glad to hear it.” His smile pulled into a grin as she took the blood.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“The men all went to a play at the school with your neighbors…Mark and Sharon is it?”

“Mike and Karen,” Elvi corrected, not at all surprised the couple had extended an invitation. The Knights were a lovely couple. They were always offering help with things around the house, or inviting her and Mabel places. Elvi wasn’t surprised they were generous enough to extend those invitations to include the men. Their generosity and thoughtfulness were part of why they were so popular in town and why their son Owen’s birthday celebration had been so well attended.

“And Mabel and DJ are at the restaurant,” Victor continued. “She said to tell you you’re not expected there tonight. She wanted you to pick one of the men and spend the evening getting to know him.”

Elvi blinked. “But you said the guys went to a play.”

“Yes. As you weren’t up, I made an arbitrary decision for you and told the others tonight you were getting to know me,” he announced unapologetically. “I thought that way I could finally tell you our laws and rules.”

“Oh.” Elvi bit her lip. So much for being able to avoid him.

“Feed,” Victor ordered, gesturing to the bag she still held in her hand.

Relieved at the distraction, Elvi allowed her teeth to slip out and popped the bag into her mouth, then avoided Victor’s eyes as she tried to sort out what to do. It was her gaze sliding over the fireplace in the living room that did it. It was a very ornate fireplace with ceramic tiles up each side and a carved wooden mantel. There was also a mirror in a beautifully carved frame that belonged above it, but it had been removed and stored in the garage five years ago. Now the empty space gave Elvi an idea.

She waited until she’d finished a second bag of blood, then grabbed her purse and announced, “Well, that’s fine, but we’ll have to talk while shopping.”

“What?” Victor asked with surprise.

“I need to go shopping,” Elvi said patiently as she moved toward the garage door.

“Mabel and DJ took the car,” Victor announced, bringing her to a halt, and then added, “we’ll have to take my car. I had the men move theirs so I could park at the back in case we need it.”

Relieved he wasn’t arguing, Elvi smiled and continued out of the house.

“So, what are we shopping for this time?” Victor asked as he parked in the local Wal-Mart parking lot several minutes later.

“A mirror,” Elvi said. “I haven’t been able to use one in five years. It would be nice to be able to see that my hair isn’t standing on end, and to do my makeup.”

They fell silent as they entered the store and sought out the section they needed. Elvi wanted a full-length mirror. Actually, eventually she wanted a proper bathroom mirror too, as well as to have the mirror in the garage put back over the mantel and so on. But for the moment, a full-length mirror seemed the more sensible buy. Reaching the aisle where the mirrors were displayed, Elvi approached slowly, almost afraid at what she would find, but then she steeled herself and forced herself to walk in front of the first one, only to pause with amazement.

She was staring at a woman with long, vibrant red hair that fell around a lovely face in soft waves. Her complexion was perfect, and so was her figure.

Damn, she was a fox, Elvi realized with amazement. She looked like Casey. How had she never noticed that her daughter had taken so much after her?

Movement in the mirror caught her eye and Elvi managed to tear her gaze from herself to focus on Victor as he stepped up behind her so they stood framed in the mirror, a handsome couple. They seemed to complement each other.

“So,” she murmured, forcing her eyes away from him and continuing along the selection of mirrors. “What about these laws?”

Victor frowned at her question. “I don’t know if Wal-Mart is quite the right place to be discussing—”

“Why not?” Elvi interrupted with amusement as she peered over the various mirrors offered. “Everyone in town knows about me, and these are laws you’re going to tell me, not the facts of life.”

“Yes, but what if someone from out of town is shopping here?” he said grimly.

Elvi shrugged. “Then talk quietly. We’re alone in this aisle right now. If someone joins us, stop.”

Victor hesitated, then she heard him let out a breath before he said, “Very well.” Still, he paused for a moment to glance around before saying uncomfortably, “Well, you know the most important one.”

“No biting mortals,” Elvi recited, amused by his discomfort. She supposed he was used to keeping everything secret and clandestine and thought she was probably lucky she hadn’t had to. When Victor remained silent, she murmured, “So far I like the laws. At least that one, it gives me an excuse to put an end to the Birthday Bite celebrations. They’ve always been more trouble than anything else, but they were expected and I didn’t want to disappoint.”

She saw Victor’s mouth tighten as he moved past her and wondered what she’d said to upset him. Before she could ask, he was stopping at a mirror. He ran one hand down the dark wood frame, his fingers gliding over intricate carving. “This one would suit the house.”

“Yes.” Elvi paused to examine the mirror. The carving was very similar to the woodwork in her house. It would suit very well indeed.

Victor watched her walk around the standing mirror, and then continued with the lesson. “One of the other more important laws to you as a woman is that you’re allowed to have only one child every hundred years.”

Elvi froze, her gaze searching out his face in the mirror. “What?”

Victor’s reflection grimaced. “I know it seems harsh, but we need to keep the population down. If we didn’t, with our life expectancy we’d quickly outnumber our blood source.”

Elvi waved that away impatiently. She couldn’t care less about the reasons behind the law. “Are you saying we can have children?”

“Yes.” Victor tilted his head, examining her expression.

Elvi bit her lip, then asked more specifically, “What about if we couldn’t, or had trouble having them as mortals?”

Victor examined her face, and then murmured, “Brunswick said your daughter died in a car accident. Did you have trouble conceiving her?”

Elvi moved away, pretending to look at another mirror, but in truth she wasn’t seeing anything in the store just then. She was seeing the past.

“I always wanted a lot of children,” she admitted quietly. “Five or six at least. But I had six miscarriages before Casey was born, and then nearly died giving birth to her. They said no more children.”

Elvi didn’t hear Victor approach, but he was suddenly there, his hand moving soothingly up and down her back as she continued, “Casey was doubly precious because of that. She was the perfect baby; always good tempered, rarely cried, and she started sleeping through the night almost at once. And she stayed perfect, every parent’s dream. She grew into a beautiful young woman, never going wild or breaking curfew. She got good grades, had lots of friends, was a hard worker, and got a scholarship to university.”

“Casey,” Victor murmured. “You named Casey Cottage after her.”

Elvi nodded.

“She’s dead,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t a question, but Elvi treated it as if it were. Nodding, she said, “She used to come home from university on weekends. Usually I picked her up from the train station, but the last time it was Harry, my husband, who went to get her while I stayed home making a special dinner for her.” Her hand tightened on the mirror frame. “Halfway home, he suffered a stroke and they crashed. The stroke killed Harry at once they think, but Casey—” Elvi paused and bit her lip when her voice broke, then took a deep breath and, ignoring the tears suddenly veiling her eyes, said, “Casey was trapped in the car. They had to use the Jaws of Life. She was awake and in terrible pain, but lost consciousness by the time they got her out. She died in the hospital that night.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor murmured. Sliding his arms around her waist from behind, he rested his chin on her head and held her as she wept silently. Then she pulled free and turned to face him.

“Are you saying I might be able to have another child?” A new baby wouldn’t replace Casey, but it might help to fill the hole her loss left behind.

Victor nodded solemnly. “If you wish it. You won’t have problems conceiving. The nanos will already have seen to it that your reproductive system is in perfect order. And they’ll be immortal children.”

Elvi closed her eyes as silent sobs shuddered through her. She’d never imagined she’d ever again hold a baby in her arms. Not her own. Now he was not only telling her she could, but that it would be an immortal baby she wouldn’t need fear losing to childhood illness, or drowning, or car accidents.

If only she’d been turned before the accident, Elvi thought suddenly. If only she’d been able to turn her daughter. If only…

“Elvi?”

Giving a start of surprise. Elvi blinked her tears away and turned to peer at the woman moving up the aisle toward her. Louise Ascot. She was the same age as Elvi, but an inch or two shorter and thin as a bird with short salt-and-pepper hair and a look of concern on her face.

“Are you all right?” she asked, stopping beside Elvi. “Why are you crying?”

Elvi groaned inwardly. Louise had gone to school with Mabel and Elvi and had been a huge gossip even then. She’d only got worse with age. She was the worst possible person to run into in Wal-Mart while sobbing like a baby. The story would be all over town within fifteen minutes.

“I’m fine, Louise,” she said, dashing away the tears and managing a smile.

She obviously didn’t believe her and glared at Victor as she said, “Well, okay, but I hope you know that if someone”—her glare deepened on Victor—“were bothering you, there isn’t a person in Port Henry who would hesitate to take care of him.”

“Fortunately, there isn’t, though,” Elvi assured her, then turned to Victor and said, “I think I’ll take the wooden one that suits the house. Shall we go get a cart?”

Victor shook his head. “I can carry it.”

He ignored Louise’s continued glares and bent to pull one of the boxed mirrors off the shelf, then started back up the aisle with it.

Murmuring “good-bye,” Elvi quickly followed.

They waited in line, bought the mirror, and drove home in silence, but by the time they pulled into the driveway, Elvi couldn’t stand it anymore and blurted, “I’m sorry.”

Victor shut off the engine and turned to her with surprise. “What for?”

“For Louise, and for crying in Wal-Mart.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “You’re not responsible for what other people do, and it didn’t upset me that you were crying.” He frowned. “Well, I mean I was upset that you were upset, but…you can cry anywhere you want…if you want to,” he finished, obviously unused to dealing with such matters.

“Harry didn’t like it when I got emotional in public,” Elvi said suddenly. “Especially crying. It embarrassed him.”

“He was young,” Victor said quietly. “After a century or two you learn there is very little worth getting embarrassed about in life. Everyone does foolish things, everyone makes mistakes, no one is perfect.”

Elvi smiled faintly over the bit about Harry being young. He’d been the same age as she. Fifty-seven at the time of his death. Hardly young by mortal standards, but a babe to an immortal over two thousand years old.

The brush of Victor’s finger along her cheek drew her attention back as he asked, “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories for you.”

“I’m okay,” Elvi said and gave a shrug. “Life can’t always be cheesecake.”

Victor grinned and reminded her, “You still haven’t eaten that cheesecake you wanted so desperately.”

“No.” She smiled, and then added with surprise, “In fact, I didn’t even think to have breakfast tonight before we left. I guess I’ve gotten out of the habit.”

“Is that what it is?” Victor asked mildly. “I thought maybe you were just trying to avoid being alone with me in the house for fear I’d start kissing you again.”

Elvi sucked in a breath, her eyes widening at the challenge in his voice. The air in the car was suddenly supercharged as they stared at each other. She didn’t know what to say or do, but couldn’t seem to look away from him. Her eyes suddenly had an agenda of their own and were focused on his mouth as she recalled the way they’d felt as they claimed her.

“Would you have?” she asked finally, surprised at how husky her voice sounded.

“Most definitely,” Victor growled.

Elvi nodded. “Would you now?”

The words came out of her mouth completely unbidden, startling her so much that she almost bit her own tongue. If someone had told her that Victor had slipped into her mind and influenced her to say the words, she wouldn’t have had any trouble at all believing it. In fact, she already half believed it now, but didn’t care because it was what she wanted. It’s what she’d wanted ever since the episode in the kitchen, which was the real reason she’d been avoiding being alone with him. Elvi had feared jumping him herself and that just wasn’t in her nature. However, the man was addictive, he was a drug she was jonesing for, badly.

Much to her relief, Victor took up the invitation. Leaning forward, he unsnapped her seat belt, letting it slip back into its holder as he kissed her. It was not tentative. There was nothing uncertain in his approach. One moment they were seated on opposite sides of the car, the next his mouth was on hers, her seat was dropping back, and he was on top of her as his tongue slid between her lips.

It was as if he were just picking up from where he’d left off the other night. There was no slow buildup, no coaxing. His mouth was hot and desperate, his tongue demanding, and it spurred a similar response in her. Elvi was suddenly on fire. Slipping her arms around his back, she clutched at his shirt, her body pushing upward, eager to press itself against his as she let her own tongue join the fray.

“God, I want you,” Victor muttered, tearing his mouth from hers and trailing kisses across her cheek to the pulse point below her ear.

“Yes,” Elvi breathed, one hand slipping around to run over his chest through the white T-shirt he wore. “Yes.”

“I’ve never wanted anyone this badly.” His teeth grazed against her throat as he spoke and Elvi moaned and tipped her head to the side, and then back as his mouth moved down the long column to her collarbone. She then gasped as he nudged the neckline of her blouse lower and licked the upper curve of one breast.

“Oh yes,” Elvi murmured. She was feeling exactly what he claimed to be feeling, but couldn’t seem to find the words to say so. “Yes” was apparently the only word in her vocabulary at the moment. And she lost the ability to say even that when his hand closed over one breast, squeezing it gently as he lowered his mouth further still to close it over the tip and breathe hot air on it through the cloth covering it.

Unintelligible sounds of pleading slipping from her lips, Elvi arched in the passenger seat, pressing her breasts upward and wishing her clothes weren’t in the way, that she could feel his warm mouth without obstruction.

Apparently, it was what Victor wanted too because in the next moment he was tugging impatiently at the blouse and drawing it down to reveal the thin white strapless silk bra beneath. It was a front-fastening bra and took only a quick snap of his finger and thumb to release it.

Elvi gasped and shuddered as the cloth fell away, allowing her breasts to pop up, then cried out as his mouth finally covered one excited nipple. Clutching her fingers in his hair, she held on for dear life as he suckled, her hips gyrating upward as she felt his hand slide under her skirt and move up her thigh. That was when a tap on the window made them both stiffen, then jerk apart.

Elvi quickly pulled her blouse up to cover herself and glanced around, groaning with embarrassment when she recognized Teddy Brunswick’s grim face peering in through the driver’s window. They’d just been caught parking by the local police. Elvi hadn’t even had that happen as a teenager.

“Put on your bra,” Victor said calmly, shifting to block Teddy’s view.

Elvi tried, but her hands were shaking so badly, she kept fumbling it until Victor brushed her hands aside and did it for her. He also tugged the blouse back into place before getting out of the car to face Brunswick.

Taking a deep breath, Elvi slid out of the passenger side.

“I got a call that someone was upsetting you at Wal-Mart,” Teddy announced abruptly as soon as she paused at Victor’s side.

“Louise,” Elvi said with despair. She’d known the woman would spread the story, but should have realized the first call she made would be to Teddy.

“Yes.” His gaze narrowed, taking in her disheveled clothes and swollen lips. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Elvi said quickly. “Louise misunderstood everything. I was crying because Victor had just told me that I could have babies now, and I…” She shrugged helplessly.

Teddy nodded slowly, then said, “So you thought you’d come back here and start right away.”

Elvi stiffened in surprise, her face flushing with a combination of shame and anger. Teddy had never before talked to her with such distaste or so coldly and what he said hurt, but when she sensed Victor tensing beside her, she reached to the side and caught his hand.

“That was uncalled for,” Victor said quietly, his grip on her hand firm. “I’d like to call you on it, but since I know it’s just jealousy talking I won’t…This time. Don’t mistake this for a free pass to hurt Elvi again, though.”

“Jealousy?” Elvi echoed, peering at Brunswick with confusion. “Teddy?”

The police captain was silent, his mouth set and expression empty. Without a word, he turned and walked to the patrol car parked behind Victor’s BMW and got in.

Victor turned back to the car and lifted the mirror out as she watched Teddy drive away.

“You didn’t know he loved you?” Victor asked when she realized he was holding the mirror and hurried to lead the way to the side door of the garage.

“No,” Elvi murmured, still not really believing it. She paused at the side door to the garage. Reaching in her purse for her keys, she added, “I still don’t know that. We’ve been friends for years.”

“He’s loved you for years.” Victor stepped inside, and then paused to wait in the narrow space between the wall and Mabel’s car as she locked the door behind them. “That’s why he never married. No other woman could compete with you. When your husband died, he hoped…” Victor shrugged those useless hopes away. “But you were turned.”

“And he didn’t want me anymore,” Elvi guessed wryly as she turned to face him.

“Oh, he wanted you, all right,” Victor assured her. “But he thought you wouldn’t want an old guy like him, so he set his mind to helping Mabel find you someone else. He loves you that much.”

“You read his mind?” she realized.

Victor nodded.

“Can you read mine?” she asked, suddenly horrified at the possibility. The idea of his knowing exactly how he made her feel and just what she wanted to do to him and what she wanted him to do to her was somewhat humiliating.

Victor was silent so long, she began to think he wouldn’t answer the question, and then he admitted, “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why not?”

Instead of answering, Victor leaned the mirror against the wall and then peered at her with an expression of concentration.

Elvi waited, knowing he was trying to read her. She wasn’t sure if she’d know if he’d read her or not, but nothing seemed to happen. They just stood there while an odd array of expressions flew across his face; concentration, bewilderment, amazement, then doubt. She’d just become sure he must be reading her mind, when he suddenly stepped closer and reached out to touch her arms, holding them in a firm grip as he refocused his concentration.

“I can’t,” he said at last and Elvi couldn’t tell from his expression if it was a good thing or not. He’d gone suddenly pale, but his expression was hard to read. Turning away, he leaned against the car as if suddenly weak, and she felt concern claim her.

“Victor?” She moved to his side, then slipped under his arm to stand between him and the car and peered up into his face. His eyes had been closed, but now opened.

“Are you all right?” Elvi asked uncertainly, reaching up to press a hand to his chest.

Victor covered her hand with his own, pressing it to his heart, then lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. The gesture was so caring that she found herself holding her breath, and then his tongue dipped out and slid over one finger, sliding along it to the spot where it met her hand.

Elvi felt a shiver run up her back and swallowed thickly as she watched what he was doing with fascination. Heat was pooling in her belly again. When he then drew that finger into his mouth and sucked on it, her whole body seemed to tingle with the caress and she suddenly found herself leaning heavily on the side of the car behind her.

Drawing her hand away, he let her finger pop from his mouth, and then used the hand to pull her into his arms as his mouth claimed hers again. Elvi slipped her arms around his neck, her mouth opening beneath his as she felt the top of her blouse being tugged downward. The snap of the bra being released barely reached her ears, but she gasped as the cool air touched them, then Victor caught her by the waist and lifted her onto the hood of the car.

Moaning into his mouth, Elvi arched as his hands closed over both breasts, the rough skin of his fingers, unimpeded, now caressed and kneaded as his tongue swept through her mouth.

Eager to touch him as well, Elvi slid her hands beneath his cotton T-shirt, urging it up his body until it caught under his arms. She then delighted in running her hands over the naked flesh she’d revealed, catching and gently tweaking his nipples as he was doing to her.

The cloth of her blouse must have been getting in his way, Elvi realized, when he forced her arms to her sides so that he could tug the cloth down and free her hands. She shivered as the light material of the peasant blouse pooled around her waist, leaving her topless, but Victor slid his arms around her at once, warming her with his body, the springy hair on his chest brushing her nipples.

Missing his kisses, Elvi slid a hand into his hair and urged his mouth back to hers, murmuring happily when he thrust his tongue inside. It was a short kiss, however. Pulling free, he dropped his mouth to explore her breasts, kissing a trail around and between them, lavishing them with his tongue, and then finally suckling at one then the other.

Forced backward on the hood to accommodate him, Elvi leaned on one elbow, and ran her other hand over his back and head, her eyes glued to where his mouth was taking first one nipple, and then moving to take the other. Distracted as she was, she didn’t miss the feel of his hands gliding up her outer thighs, pushing her skirt before them, before sliding back down toward her knee. The next time they came forward, they burned a trail along the inside of her thighs, and Elvi could feel the muscles of her thighs begin to tremble and her breathing becoming a short, harsh pant the higher they rose. One stopped on her thigh, resting there lightly, but the other continued up to brush along her panties lightly. The teasing touch tore a cry from Elvi’s lips and her hips lifted of their own accord, urging him on even as her thighs closed instinctively around his hand like a flower protectively closing its petals at nightfall.

In response, Victor caught her thighs with both hands and forced them apart, then let her nipple slip from his lips and dropped to his haunches beside the car and pressed his mouth to her panties, nuzzling her through the silk.

Elvi cried out and dropped onto her back on the hood of the car, her hands reaching fruitlessly for something to grab hold of as her hips jolted, thrusting her pelvis forward. Then the cloth was suddenly pulled to the side and his tongue rasped over the delicate flesh in an unbearably exciting caress.

She was vaguely aware when he snapped her panties off and thought she’d definitely have to make a trip to the lingerie shop at this rate, but then her mind shut down and she became a moaning, groaning, sobbing idiot as his mouth returned to torment her. Eyes opening and closing and head twisting back and forth, Elvi got snapshot images of the garage ceiling overhead, but she wasn’t seeing anything. Her mind was completely taken up with trying to accept the pleasure flooding her. She’d never experienced anything like it. There was the pleasure, then endless echoes of the pleasure vibrating through her brain as if the sensations she was experiencing were some weird boomerang that she was sending out, only to have them return bigger somehow, amplified, almost overwhelming.

Elvi was close to exploding, but she wanted to feel him inside her when she did. Forcing herself to sit up, she reached to tangle her fingers in his hair, relieved when he began to straighten.

Stepping between her legs, Victor took her in his arms and pressed kisses to her throat and face as she reached between them for the button of his jeans. She managed the button and zipper, and then slid her hand inside to find him, nipping his ear lightly with her teeth as she drew him out of his pants.

Muttering something incoherent by her ear, Victor clasped her by the bottom and lifted her slightly as she directed his hard length into her.

Elvi bit her lip and groaned as he filled her, her body expanding eagerly to except him. Pressing her heels against the side of the car, she clutched his bottom as he began to withdraw and drive himself into her in the age-old dance.

It was a short dance. Already well primed, Victor had barely thrust into her half a dozen times when Elvi’s body suddenly stiffened, then convulsed, her hands clutching desperately at him as the world shattered around her. She was vaguely aware of Victor shouting out with his own release, but the sound seemed far away as she lost her grip on consciousness and fainted.

Fourteen

Elvi woke to find herself in bed once again. Confusion clouding her mind, she peered around, then slowly turned onto her back to peer at the other side of the bed.

Victor was lying on top of the sheets next to her, contemplating the ceiling overhead with a smile on his face. A glance upward proved there was nothing on the ceiling to cause the expression so Elvi supposed it must be his thoughts he was smiling about. When she turned her eyes back, she found his head turned her way, his smile curved into a grin.

“I fainted,” she said.

Victor nodded.

“And you carried me up here?”

“Yes.”

Elvi shook her head. “I’m sorry. I had two bags of blood this morning, I don’t know why I fainted. I—” She stopped abruptly as his chest began to shake with silent laughter. “What’s funny here? I’m starting to get concerned. I never faint.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he assured her, turning on his side to run one hand up her arm. “Fainting is common for the first year when…two immortals get together.”

“For the first year?” she asked with disbelief, and then her eyes narrowed. “Did you faint?”

“I briefly lost consciousness, yes,” Victor acknowledged.

Elvi rolled her eyes. Leave it to a guy. For her it was fainting, for him, it was briefly losing consciousness. She didn’t care, he could call it what he wanted. She felt marvelous. Her body felt marvelous. Her bed was marvelous. Life was just plain marvelous at the moment.

“Is that you and your daughter?”

Elvi followed his gaze to the photo on her dresser. It was she and Casey at the town fair the summer before she died.

“Yes,” she murmured quietly.

“And that’s your late husband?”

Elvi nodded as her gaze slid over the picture on the other side of the dresser. Harry had been a handsome man. Tall, silver-haired and distinguished looking. Elvi stared at the picture for a minute, and then glanced at Victor curiously. “Why have you never married? Two thousand years is a long time to remain single.”

Victor rolled onto his back and closed his eyes and then admitted, “I did marry. Once. Her name was Marion. She was burnt at the stake in 1695. I was away in London at the time. If I’d been home—”

“You may have been burnt at the stake too,” Elvi interrupted and was extremely glad he hadn’t been home.

“No,” he assured her solemnly. “There were too many for Marion to handle alone, but had I been there…” He let the sentence trail away on a weary sigh.

The memory obviously upset him. Elvi left the subject alone and asked instead, “Did you have any children?”

He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “One. Vincent. He was born in 1590. He is four hundred and seventeen years old.”

Elvi winced. Even the man’s son was old. “Where is he?”

“He lives in California,” Victor said quietly, then blurted, “I don’t see him much.”

“Well, he’s older,” she excused. “Once kids grow up and get a life of their own, parents never see them.”

“My not seeing him is by choice.”

“You don’t want to see him?” she asked uncertainly, finding it difficult to even imagine such a thing. If Casey had survived the crash and only Harry had died, the poor girl would no doubt have been complaining to all and sundry because Elvi visited too much. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you see him?”

Victor closed his eyes again, a little sigh escaping him, “It’s difficult to explain. Marion was…my lifemate. I waited so long for her, and was so lonely before she came into my life…” He paused and frowned, then glanced her way, repeating, “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try,” Elvi urged, really wanting to understand.

Victor looked away and then said, “Without training, I’m sure you haven’t learned to read thoughts yet?”

Elvi shook her head. “Will I?”

“Yes. It’s one of the extra abilities the nanos give us. You must have noticed that you were more intuitive?”

“Very,” she admitted. Elvi had found she was extra-sensitive to feelings and could sense emotions.

He nodded. “Then you have the ability and just need the training to use it.”

“I’m not sure I want to,” Elvi murmured. “It seems an intrusion.”

“You need to learn to do it to avoid doing it,” Victor said with confusing logic, and Elvi blinked at him stupidly.

“What?”

He glanced her way to ask, “Do you suffer a lot of headaches?”

“Yes,” she said with surprise. Elvi hadn’t thought anything of it, she’d had headaches a lot before the turning and had just assumed they were continuing, but now she thought about it and realized, “They come every time I go to the restaurant or any of the local events. They aren’t so bad when I’m home alone.”

“And yet you continue to go to the restaurant and these local events,” Victor murmured.

Elvi shrugged. “It’s expected.”

Victor looked as if he wanted to say something, but then glanced away. “The headaches are because you’re picking up the thoughts of the people around you. They’re worse at the restaurant and social events because there are more people there bombarding you.”

Elvi shook her head. “I’m sure I don’t pick up thoughts. My head just hurts, there are no thoughts with it.”

“That’s because there are too many,” Victor explained. “You haven’t been trained to control and focus so you’re picking up everyone’s thoughts. It becomes like static on a radio or white noise on a television. That’s why you suffer headaches when you’re around others but not when you’re alone. Once you learn to focus, it will be better, but that’s draining as well. You’ll have to be constantly on guard, constantly blocking thoughts and protecting your own. It’s wearying. Most immortals withdraw from society as much as possible because of that, but it leaves us alone all the time. A lifemate eases the loneliness. You don’t have to guard your thoughts around them. Or block them. Your lifemate becomes your only safe haven, a cool and soothing breeze on a hot day.”

“And Marion was that for you,” Elvi murmured quietly.

“Yes…And much more,” he admitted. “When she died…I was lost at first, not wanting to see anyone, do anything or go anywhere. I just wanted to curl into a ball and lick my wounds.” He smiled suddenly and said with affection, “It was my pain-in-the-ass brother, Lucian, who pulled me out of that. He dragged me back into the world kicking and screaming and gave me a purpose.”

“What purpose?” Elvi asked with a smile.

Victor paused and then admitted, “An enforcer for the council.”

“What is an enforcer?”

“We hunt rogue immortals. Those who have gone bad and are breaking our laws,” he explained.

Elvi nodded. “How did he get you to do it? I doubt asking nicely worked.”

“No.” Victor laughed. “Lucian came to my house one day with a family portrait; a huge painting of a family; a beautiful woman, a smiling man, and two happy children. The painting immediately infuriated me because my lovely family had been torn asunder. Then Lucian took out his epee and sliced the woman out of the picture and while I sat there, shocked, he told me she’d been taken by a rogue, her family was as devastated as I at the loss of Marion, but I could help stop it from happening to another family.”

Victor gave a short laugh. “I pointed out it was mortals who took my Marion so why should I care if they suffered, and he asked if I would blame all for what one church official did? If so, didn’t it mean that her family had every right to blame me and everyone of our kind for the loss of their mother and wife.”

He shrugged. “I went hunting with him for this rogue, then another and another…It’s been my only real purpose since then.”

“And your son?” Elvi asked, wondering where he came in.

Victor sighed. “After the first hunt, I went to see Vincent. I hadn’t seen him or anyone else but Lucian since Marion’s death.” Remembered pain flashed briefly in his eyes. “Vincent looks so like his mother. He has my coloring and build but her smile and eyes and…I couldn’t bear to look at him. It hurt too much,” he admitted, then added shamefaced, “I left as soon as I could and have seen him as little as possible since.”

“You must have loved her deeply,” Elvi murmured.

“She saved my soul,” Victor said simply. “The loneliness was maddening and I was very close to going rogue myself when we met. Her arrival in my life was a blessing.” He turned to stare deep into her eyes and added, “As is yours.”

Elvi pulled back slightly on the bed, feeling blindsided by his words. “Mine?”

Victor nodded. “Some are never so lucky even once. I never thought I would be lucky enough to be blessed twice. But Elvi, you too are my lifemate.”

“Calm down,” Mabel said firmly. “Elvi, you have to calm down.”

“But he thinks I’m his lifemate,” Elvi squawked, pacing from one end of the restaurant office to the other. “We hardly know each other and he’s talking about forever and—I’m not ready for this,” she cried with dismay.

“You looked pretty ready to me in the car,” Teddy commented and Elvi turned a glare on her old friend.

After Victor had made his announcement that she was his lifemate, she’d just lain there staring at him for the longest time, then she got up without a word and left the room.

The moment the door closed behind her, she’d broken into a run, flying down the stairs and out of the house in her wrinkled skirt and blouse, headed straight for Bella Black’s and Mabel. She was halfway to the restaurant when Teddy’s cruiser pulled into a driveway in front of her, forcing her to a halt. Seeing her running down the street “like a mad thing” as he’d put it, he’d stopped to be sure she was all right, but when all he could get out of her was incoherent ranting about lifemates, Teddy had done the sensible thing. He’d ushered her into his car and drove her to the restaurant. Mabel had taken one look at Elvi’s face and ushered her into the office, only to be followed there by both Teddy and DJ.

“Listen to me,” Mabel took her by the arms and turned her physically away from their old friend. “DJ has explained this all to me. I can help.”

Elvi nodded. “Help.”

“Yes,” she said calmly, then took a breath and said, “Immortals can read everyone, often even other immortals unless they’re much more powerful. They can also be read by other older and stronger immortals.”

“Victor explained all that,” Elvi muttered. “But how does that make me his lifemate?”

“He must not be able to read you,” Mabel said simply.

Elvi just stared at her, her mind returning to the garage and his concentrating on her, attempting to read her. He’d said he couldn’t. He’d also said the night she caught him outside Mabel’s door that Mabel was DJ’s lifemate because he couldn’t read her. Elvi simply hadn’t put the two things together.

“Marion was his lifemate,” Elvi protested. “He loves her.”

“And Harry was your husband and you love him,” Mabel said reasonably. “So what? The human heart is big enough to love more than one in a lifetime.”

That was true enough, she supposed, but…“What if it’s just a fluke that he can’t read me?”

“There are other signs too,” Mabel assured her. “Like the fact that he’s eating again.”

Elvi waved that away as ridiculous. “They’re all eating. Even DJ.”

The sandy-haired man swallowed the bite of chimichanga in his mouth and said, “That’s because Mabel’s my lifemate.”

“Well, what about the others?” Elvi asked. “Edward, Harper, and Alessandro are all eating too.”

“Yes,” DJ admitted. “We’re a bit concerned about that. And they’re all still here as well, which suggests they can’t read you either or they’d have left by now.”

“Are you saying she could be a lifemate for any one of those four men?” Teddy asked with amazement, and then turned an impressed gaze Mabel’s way. “Damn, you’re good, Mabel. Care to find me a woman?”

“This isn’t funny, Teddy,” Elvi snapped.

“Do you see me laughing?” he asked.

Turning away from him, she said, “So you’re saying that all four of them could be my lifemate? What am I supposed to do?”

“Choose one,” Mabel said reasonably. “I’d guess since you’ve slept with Victor, he’d be the wisest choice.”

“How do you know that?” Elvi squawked with amazement as her face flushed with embarrassment.

“Elvi, your lips are swollen, your hair’s a mess, you aren’t wearing a bra and you look like a woman who’s been well satisfied,” Mabel said dryly.

“And we were at the house,” DJ added. “Mabel forgot the work schedules for the week and we’d come back for them. When we started into the garage to head back, you and Victor were using the car. We decided to wait until you were finished.”

“DJ!” Mabel snapped.

“Well, it’s true,” he said defensively.

“Oh God,” Elvi mumbled, lowering her face into her hands. The car. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that the car was there? They did it right there on the damned thing.

“Look, honey,” Mabel rubbed a hand up and down her arm. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We’re all adults here.”

When Teddy snorted at the comment, Mabel turned a glare his way.

“Don’t get mad at me,” he said raising his hands. “I’m not the one acting like an idiot teenager.”

Elvi lifted her head. “Are you saying I am?”

“Well, if the shoe fits, Ellen.”

Her eyes widened at the use of her real name. Teddy hadn’t called her that since the turning. No one had. She often bemoaned the fact, but now it sounded like an insult.

“Teddy,” Mabel said in warning.

“Well, it’s true,” Teddy said in the same defensive tone DJ had used moments ago. Crossing his arms, he glared at Elvi. “You like the guy. He likes you. You have great sex in the garage and rather than pull some love ’em and leave ’em stunt, he wants a future with you. And what do you do?” he asked. “You run hell for leather up the street to the restaurant all in a panic asking what you should do.”

“What does that expression mean exactly, hell for leather?” DJ asked in the silence that followed Brunswick’s words. “And where does it come from?”

Teddy blinked at the immortal, and then said with exasperation, “How the hell should I know. People just use it all the damned time.”

“I always thought it meant crazy fast,” Mabel commented. “Though, I don’t know why. It doesn’t make sense when you think about it.”

“Not now, but it’s an old expression and we used to wear leather shoes rather than rubber soled,” DJ murmured thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s where it comes from, going fast or hard and being hell on the leather shoes.”

“Oh, I never thought of that,” Mabel said with surprise, then beamed. “You’re so smart, love.”

Shaking his head with disgust as the pair began to kiss, Teddy caught Elvi’s arm and urged her toward the door. “Come on. You won’t get any sense out of those two now. They’ll be locking the office door in about three minutes.”

Elvi allowed him to lead her out of the restaurant, but tried to pull free as they neared his car. “I can walk.”

“Yes, but then I couldn’t talk to you and I have some wisdom I’d like to impart,” he snapped. Opening the passenger door, he ushered her in, slammed it, and then walked around to his side.

Elvi was silent as Teddy started the car, and left him to get to the point in his own time. It didn’t take long.

“Mabel and I arranged this week to find you a mate,” he started as he steered out of the parking lot. “We don’t like the idea of leaving you here on your own.”

“Yes, I know. She told me.”

Teddy nodded. “Well, it seems we did good. Out of all the vampires in the world, she picked the four who would be suitable lifemates.” He paused, and concentrated on driving for a minute before saying, “Elvi, if you love this guy, don’t let fear keep you from him. You’ll regret it. Trust me, I know,” he added solemnly, and then said, “You’re home. Get out.”

Elvi glanced around with surprise to see that they were indeed in her driveway, and then turned an incredulous gaze back to Teddy.

“That’s it?” she asked with disbelief. “Don’t let fear stop me. We’re home, now get out? That’s your wisdom?”

“The best advice is often the simplest,” he said with a shrug, then softened slightly and added, “Elvi, you’re scared. I understand that. I’ve been there. I let it stop me once from asking someone to a high school dance, someone else asked her and she ended up marrying him. Forty years later I still regret it, but my life is almost over. You have a hell of a lot longer to regret it than me.”

Elvi recalled Victor’s saying Teddy loved her and had for a long time. She suspected she was the girl he hadn’t asked to the dance, and wanted to say something to make it better for him, but there wasn’t really anything to say.

“Now, do me a favor and get out of the car before Tall-boy tries to beat my brains in. I’d hate to have to deal with the paperwork of arresting him tonight.”

Elvi glanced out to see Victor stomping up the sidewalk toward them. Sighing, she opened the car door, and then leaned over to give Teddy a kiss on the cheek before sliding out of the car.

“Where—” Victor began the moment she started up the sidewalk, but Elvi interrupted him quickly.

“Sorry I took so long. I should have let you know where I was going before I took off, but I suddenly remembered something I had to tell Mabel,” she lied cheerfully, moving past him on the sidewalk and heading for the door to the house.

Scowling, Victor turned to follow her. “You—”

“Gosh, all that running around did me in and I’m famished. Do you want a bag of blood? Or maybe a steak or something? I could start the barbecue.”

Aware that he was following her, Elvi kept up a lively chatter as she led him to the kitchen and began to poke around the refrigerator. Mostly to keep him from asking questions or saying something they might both regret. She wasn’t ready to answer questions. She needed to think. She needed time to adjust to all this.

It was all well and good for Teddy to tell her not to let fear stop her, but Elvi wasn’t jumping into anything either. She’d only known Victor a couple of days. It was too soon to love him. She wasn’t committing herself to anything until she was ready.

The men returned while they were eating and regaled them with their thoughts on the play. For the most part, they seemed to have enjoyed themselves despite its being an obviously amateur event. They’d also enjoyed the company and praised her for having “quite civil and entertaining” neighbors. Elvi suspected this was high praise from these men.

“We were talking about building another fire on the way back,” Harper announced as he claimed a seat at the table and snatched a bit of salad from Elvi’s plate. “But it’s started to rain.”

Elvi glanced toward the window to see that this was true and wondered to herself how she was going to entertain these men. She was considering suggesting another game of poker when Victor spoke up.

“I haven’t quite finished telling Elvi all our laws yet. We’re going to take coffee up to the sunroom and finish it.”

Elvi shrugged when the men glanced her way. Victor was telling the truth. She’d only learned one more law today and was sure there must be more than that. It would probably be good to learn them all so she didn’t inadvertently break one.

“There are movies in the cupboard in the living room if you want to watch something,” she suggested as Victor picked up his empty plate and carried it to the kitchen. “I’m sure we won’t be long.”

She was being optimistic, Elvi knew, but really, there couldn’t be that many laws and if they would just stop getting distracted, they might get through them quickly, Elvi thought as she carried her own plate out and collected two cups for the coffee.

The men were silent at first, but by the time she’d poured the coffee and started to lead Victor out of the room, they’d begun to discuss their options when it came to entertainment.

Elvi led Victor up to the sunroom, and moved to open a couple of windows to allow the cool night breeze in as Victor settled in one of the wicker chairs. Once done, she settled on the wicker sofa adjacent to him and raised her eyebrows expectantly. “So, no biting, only one child every hundred years, and…?”

“And you can only turn one mortal in a lifetime,” Victor said. “Those are the top three.”

“You can only turn one?” Elvi asked with surprise.

“I told you, it’s all to keep the population down.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Most immortals save that turn for their lifemate.”

“Yes, I guess they would,” Elvi said, but was frowning. “Then who turned me and why would they waste their one turning, turning me?”

“DJ and I were wondering about that,” Victor admitted, then set his coffee cup down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Elvi, would you tell me exactly what you remember about your turning? Maybe we can sort it out from that.”

“I can try,” she said unhappily. “But it’s all pretty blurry.”

“Just close your eyes, relax, and take yourself back there,” he suggested.

Elvi smiled faintly. “You sound like a hypnotist.”

“I wish I was,” Victor admitted, then added, “If I could read your mind I could pull the memory from you myself, but—” He paused, eyebrows rising. “DJ might be able to. We can wait for him and—”

“No,” Elvi interrupted quickly. The last thing she wanted was someone poking around in her brain. Besides, no one else seemed to be able to read her, what if DJ couldn’t either? That was a complication she didn’t need, especially not with Mabel so obviously head over heels for the man.

“Okay, we’ll do it the hard way, then,” he said wryly. “Sit back, close your eyes, relax and just let yourself go back to that day. You said you were in Mexico…”

“Yes,” Elvi murmured. “Mabel and I were supposed to stay in a resort, but when we arrived we found there was a problem with their water. Everyone was being moved to other resorts. They’d made arrangements for us too and we got out of our taxi just to be ushered into a van.”

“Were there others in this van?” Victor asked.

Elvi nodded. “Three couples and four individuals.”

“Describe them,” Victor suggested.

“Two of the couples were our age,” Elvi said, her brow drawing together as she tried to picture the people in the van. “They were near the front of the van. The other couple was younger. In their forties I think. They were right behind the driver.”

“And the other four?” Victor prompted when she paused.

“Three were young women, university students, I think,” she began, and then grimaced. “They were seated at the back and complaining about the lack of “action” at the resort and hoping the next one was better.” Her voice was surprised as she said that. She’d forgotten all about it, but then she’d spent the better part of the last five years trying to forget that trip.

“And the last person?” Victor asked.

Elvi squinted her eyes more tightly closed, searching her memory for the last man. For some reason, her mind seemed to shy away from him.

“He was seated across the aisle from Mabel and me,” she said slowly. “I can’t…I have a vague recollection of jeans and a dress shirt. Average looks. He was quiet. The rest of us talked some, but he seemed to want to keep mostly to himself.”

“How old would you say he was?” Victor asked, sounding tense.

“Mid to late twenties,” she said and opened her eyes with realization. All five of the men in her home this week looked to be in that age range. For that matter so did she.

Victor nodded, and then suggested, “Okay, now tell me about the trip itself.”

Elvi closed her eyes again. “They told us it would be a five-hour drive. It started out fine. Mabel and I were tired from the flight and napped for the first hour or so. When I woke up, Mabel was chatting with the German couple in front of us. They were a nice couple,” she added sadly. Mabel told her afterward that they both died in the crash.

“So, you were chatting with this other couple…” Victor prompted.

“The accident happened about an hour after I woke up.” She paused and frowned. “We were on a narrow mountain road. I think the driver swerved to miss something. The next thing I knew we were rolling. Everyone was screaming and the world was topsy-turvy, baggage was flying everywhere.

“The van ended up on its side, on the side Mabel and I were on. I must’ve been knocked out; I remember waking up to find I was lying on Mabel. I heard her moan and was afraid I may be crushing her, but when I tried to move, pain shot through my head and I think I passed out again.”

“And the next time you awoke?”

“That was in the hotel. We were apparently transported there after we were found,” Elvi said reluctantly, then ground her teeth together and admitted, “I woke up to find I had fangs and they were sunk in Mabel’s throat while she struggled weakly.” She opened her eyes to see Victor was wincing at these words and nodded grimly. “Yes. I damn near killed her.”

“To be frank, I’m surprised you didn’t. It takes a lot of blood for a turning. More than one mortal could supply.” Victor frowned with sudden curiosity. “Where did you get the blood?”

“Mabel bribed one of the maids. The woman’s brother worked at a blood bank. She paid a lot of money for it.”

Victor raised his eyebrows. “Well, at least she didn’t follow the story of Dracula and think you could only drink from the source. Was your biting her the first clue to your having been turned? And how did you end up at the hotel? The turning makes a mortal very sick. Why didn’t you end up in a hospital?”

“I think regaining consciousness after the accident to find me with my head in a cooler, lapping up spilled blood from burst blood bags was really her first clue,” Elvi said dryly.

Victor stiffened. “You didn’t mention that.”

“Well, it’s not really a clear memory,” Elvi explained. “And you said to tell you the next thing I remember. Mostly the blood bag episode at the crash site seems like a dream to me and I’m only sure it happened because Mabel said it did.”

Victor frowned. “Tell me your memory of it, dreamlike or not.”

Elvi paused to collect the memory, and then said, “Well, as I say, it’s kind of blurry. I remember waking up and smelling something that…” She hesitated, unsure how to describe what she’d felt. She’d been in terrible pain, every inch of her body aching, and that smell had driven her into a frenzy. She’d been desperate to get to it.

“I understand,” Victor said. “You must have been amazed when you realized it was blood drawing you so.”

“Maybe. I don’t remember feeling anything at all except relief. I’d caught the scent, struggled to get free of my seat belt, crawled over Mabel, trailing the smell and there was an open cooler there. It must have been in with the luggage that fell everywhere. The lid was off and one of the bags had burst open. And…”

“And you lapped it up, then went after the unburst bags,” Victor guessed.

Elvi nodded. “I didn’t have anything to open them with, not even fangs at that point, so I was tearing them open with my teeth, getting more blood on me than in me when Mabel woke up and spotted what I was doing. I have a vague recollection of her yelling at me, and then I think I passed out again.”

“She said I was already starting to look younger when she found me and that I had a bad gash on my forehead, but an hour later it was gone and I looked younger still. She knew right away something was wrong,” Elvi offered. “When someone came across the accident scene and the authorities showed up, they wanted me to go to hospital, but she wouldn’t let them take me. She bribed them to take us on to the resort.”

Victor was silent for a minute, and then asked, “Are there any other dreamlike memories, prior to that one, that you haven’t mentioned?”

“One,” Elvi admitted. “But I know that one’s a dream.”

“Tell me,” he insisted.

She closed her eyes, trying to place herself back in the van so that she would remember more clearly. Finally, she said, “The first thing I remember is it was raining.”

“Raining?” Victor echoed with bewilderment.

Elvi nodded. “Yes. My mouth was open and filling with water.”

“In the bus?” he asked doubtfully.

She nodded. “It tasted funny when I swallowed it. Tinny.”

“Like blood,” Victor suggested.

Elvi kept her eyes closed. Now that she was examining the memory, it was clearer than it had ever been before. She could actually recall the slow drip, drip, as the liquid hit her tongue and slid down her throat.

“I opened my eyes, and…the lone man in his twenties was hanging over me.”

She sensed Victor leaning further forward, his body tense. “Hanging over you?”

“The bus was on its side,” she reminded him. “His seat belt had kept him in the seat, but he was dangling over us.” Elvi could see him there now and cringed. “He’d been injured in the accident.” She opened her eyes, banishing the image. “That’s how I knew it was a dream. Mabel said she saw him after the accident and he was just fine. Uninjured.”

“Forget about that,” Victor instructed. “I want you to close your eyes and picture the scene again. What exactly did you see?”

Elvi reluctantly closed her eyes. She allowed the memory to blossom in her mind despite its unpleasantness. “His eyes were closed. I thought he was dead. There was a large, sharp triangle of glass in his stomach, and another in his upper shoulder. It had pretty much sliced his arm off and there was blood running down his dangling arm and dripping…”

“Into your mouth,” Victor said with triumph.

Elvi opened her eyes with amazement. “Yes.”

“You really are an accidental vampire,” he said with a grin that then faded. “I’m surprised he didn’t realize what had happened when he woke up and saw you jonesing for blood.”

“I don’t think he did,” Elvi said with a frown. “Mabel says she got me out of the van and away from the others when she realized something was wrong with me.”

“That was very brave of her,” Victor said solemnly. “Especially if she suspected what you had become.”

“Yes,” Elvi agreed. “She’s a good friend. She got me to the hotel, arranged for blood for me, and then called Teddy and had him overnight Casey’s passport to us in Mexico.”

“Your daughter’s?”

“Yes. Mabel wanted to fly me home right away, but my passport picture showed me with graying hair and wrinkles…”

“And you didn’t look like that anymore,” he murmured.

Elvi nodded. “I don’t think I would have survived if Mabel hadn’t been there to take care of everything. She kept me alive, got me home, talked to Teddy and some others and smoothed it over so they didn’t come after me with stakes.” She grinned. “Somehow she presented it to the town as a really cool adventure rather than a horror story, and I was the tragic hero rather than a monster.”

“But to yourself, you were a monster,” Victor guessed quietly.

Elvi eyed him solemnly. “I nearly killed her.”

“You were out of your head, Elvi. She knows that. If the situation had been reversed and Mabel had been the one turned that day, or if it had been Casey, how would you feel?”

Elvi released a shaky sigh. She’d carried the guilt of that episode in her heart for five years and it wasn’t going to wash away that easily. And she didn’t want to think about it. It was time for a change of subject, she decided.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened earlier between us yet?” Victor asked suddenly, and Elvi glanced at him with alarm. This was not the topic change she’d wanted. She was not ready to talk about the possibility of their being lifemates.

When a brief, panicked search of her mind didn’t turn up any ideas for another topic change, Elvi simply leaned forward and kissed him. In her experience, that was always a good way to silence a man. At least, it had always worked with her husband.

It worked well with Victor too, she realized when he caught her by the waist and drew her off the sofa to settle on his lap in the wicker chair.

Smiling against his mouth, Elvi slid her arms around his shoulders, and then stiffened when a sudden sharp pain exploded between her shoulder blades and vibrated outward, stealing her breath and consciousness.

“Elvi?” Victor murmured uncertainly when she went limp in his arms.

Pulling back, he used a hand to catch her face by the chin and tilt it back, frowning when he saw her closed eyes and pale, slack face. Concern immediately claimed him. It was one thing for her to faint at the climax of their lovemaking, that was normal for immortals on first joining, but they’d hardly started here.

“Elvi?” he said again and gently slapped her cheek. When he got no response, Victor started to move the hand at her back, intending to lift her and set her on the sofa so he could go get a wet cloth or something, but he froze when his hand brushed something hard.

Tugging her forward against his chest, Victor peered over her shoulder and down, his heart stopping at the sight of the arrow protruding from her back.

Fifteen

“I guess this means the first arrow wasn’t an accident, and answers the question of who the target is,” DJ murmured as he watched Victor pop another bag of blood to Elvi’s teeth.

Victor grunted. In truth, he’d rather have been the target himself than see Elvi like this. He’d been frantic when he realized she’d been shot. Standing with her clasped against his chest, he’d crossed the sunroom, glancing out at the dark yard beyond as he passed the window. He hadn’t seen anyone below, but the shooter could have been hiding in the shadows.

Leaving the hunt for her shooter for later, Victor had carried Elvi into her room to tend her, grateful that DJ and Mabel had chosen that moment to return home and that the younger immortal had come in search of him.

DJ had taken one look at Elvi on the bed with the arrow in her back, and promptly yelled for Mabel to bring blood up at once. He’d then slipped into Elvi’s bathroom for some towels, and settled on the opposite side of the bed, offering support and encouragement as Victor began the incredibly delicate task of removing the arrow without causing further damage.

Mabel had arrived with blood just as Victor finished pulling the arrow. Much to his relief, Mabel hadn’t gone into hysterics. She’d been upset and demanded to know what had happened, but hadn’t gone about shrieking or fainting or anything of that ilk. Modern women, it seemed, were a sturdy bunch.

“Her wound is healing,” Victor muttered as he switched blood bags. He’d already given her four bags and her wound was obviously closing. At least it certainly looked smaller to him, still she wasn’t showing any sign of waking yet, but there would no doubt be internal damage to be repaired as well.

“The men are wondering what’s going on,” Mabel announced, returning from another blood run. “My bringing up all this blood has tipped them to the fact that something is going on.”

“What did you tell them?” Victor asked, taking the blood from her and setting it on the side of the bed.

“Nothing, I just waved away their questions, and came back up here.”

“They’ll follow her up then,” DJ said with a frown.

“They already have,” Edward announced from the now crowded doorway.

Elvi heard the murmur of voices and wondered fuzzily who was standing outside her coffin talking. It was only when she opened her eyes that she recalled she no longer slept in a coffin. She was on her stomach in her bed, and her room was full of people. Victor, Mabel, DJ, Harper, Alessandro, and Edward were all there from the voices she could hear.

“Who would want to hurt Elvi?” Harper was asking with dismay.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Victor said grimly.

Elvi frowned, trying to understand what they were talking about. Hurt her? Had someone hurt her? She’d barely asked herself the question when she spotted the bloody arrow on the side of the bed and recalled sitting on Victor’s lap in the sunroom and a sharp pain in the back.

So that had been the source of the pain. She stared at the bloody arrow and recalled the one that had narrowly missed them at the furniture store. Elvi had been sure then that it was an accident and, if not, then it had been meant for Victor. She’d lived in Port Henry her entire life. No one here would harm her, she’d thought. And still thought that.

Elvi briefly struggled with what had happened, trying to make sense of it, and then stiffened as an idea struck her. She turned cautiously onto her back, relieved when there was no pain. It seemed she was healed.

“We must find who did this,” Alessandro said furiously. “They can not hurt the Elvi. She is good woman, so bella, so sweet.”

“Yes, and we will have to guard her until we do,” Harper murmured.

“Then you’ll be guarding the wrong person,” Elvi announced, drawing their attention as she managed to sit up. While there was no pain, she was feeling a bit weak and suspected she needed more blood to replace that used up in the healing.

“Elvi.” Victor hurried to the bed, concern on his face. “You shouldn’t be moving around yet.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, but was frowning at the weakness hampering her and asked, “Is there more blood?”

“I’ll go get more,” Mabel assured her and rushed from the room as the men moved to surround the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Harper asked, his face lined with concern.

“Fine,” she repeated, then admitted, “A little weak maybe, but fine.”

“What did you mean we’d be protecting the wrong person if we guarded you?” Edward asked curiously.

“I wasn’t the target,” Elvi announced.

“Elvi,” Victor said, shaking his head. “You were shot in the back. You had to be the target.”

“I don’t think I was,” she argued pleasantly.

“Well, I doubt I was. They’d hardly shoot through you to get to me.”

“No, but—” Elvi fell silent and smiled at Mabel as she rushed in with four more bags of blood. Murmuring a “thank you,” she accepted the bag Mabel held out and slapped it to her teeth, giving herself the time to try to find a way to explain what she was thinking. By the second bag, she’d decided that showing would be more effective than trying to explain and slid her feet off the bed to stand up.

“What are you doing?” Victor asked, sounding alarmed. “You shouldn’t be up yet. Allow your body time to—”

“I feel fine,” Elvi said with exasperation as she took the second empty bag away. “I’m not suffering any pain, and most of the weakness is gone thanks to the blood.”

“Yes, but a little rest wouldn’t go amiss,” Harper said, cutting off whatever Victor had opened his mouth to say. Judging from his expression, it hadn’t been as diplomatic as Harper’s words and she suspected he’d done the man a favor by cutting him off.

“Probably,” Elvi said agreeably as she accepted a third bag from Mabel, then added firmly, “and I will after I make one trip downstairs.”

There was rumbling all around at this announcement, but Elvi ignored the men and leaned to whisper in Mabel’s ear. When she’d straightened and her friend nodded, Elvi turned to the men.

“Come with me and I’ll prove I wasn’t the target,” she said, then slapped the latest bag to her teeth and headed for the door.

The men followed, protesting the whole way, but Elvi ignored them, merely glancing back to see that DJ wasn’t one of them following. She smiled around the bag in her mouth when Mabel caught the man’s arm and urged him the other way, toward the door to the sunroom.

“Elvi, this is ridiculous,” Victor said impatiently as he followed her downstairs and into the kitchen. “You should be resting and recuperating, not—You aren’t going outside!” he exclaimed, catching her arm to draw her to a halt when he realized she was heading for the door.

“It’s perfectly safe…for me. Maybe you should wait here, though,” she suggested with sudden concern, but really wanted him to see this too. Her gaze slid to the others. “Do you think you could position yourselves around Victor in case the archer is still here? I don’t think he’ll shoot if he can’t get a clear shot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Victor snapped when the men voiced their agreement. “I’m not the target—Wait for me,” he snapped when she turned to head out of the house.

Much to her annoyance, the men decided it was better safe than sorry and surrounded both she and Victor the moment they were outside. Shaking her head, Elvi merely directed them off the deck and to the back of her property. Once there the whole group turned to peer up through the sunroom windows.

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Is that the DJ in the sunroom?” Alessandro asked with surprise, obviously not having noticed he hadn’t come out with them.

“Yes,” Elvi said, noting that only his upper body was visible from this angle, then repeated, “What do you see?”

There was a moment of silence as the men cast perplexed looks her way, then Harper said, “DJ sitting in the sunroom.”

“No, you don’t,” Elvi argued.

“Si, we do,” Alessandro assured her.

“No. You see the silhouette of DJ sitting in the sunroom,” she pointed out. “The light is behind the chair and prevents you from distinguishing features.”

“True,” Edward acknowledged. “But—”

“Okay!” Elvi called out to the house and the dark shape of DJ began to shift, mutating and then separating into a seated DJ and a standing woman as Mabel repositioned herself beside the chair.

“What just happened?” Alessandro asked with confusion. “Is that the Mabel?”

“Yes,” Elvi said. “She was sitting on DJ’s lap, just as I was sitting on Victor’s when I was hit by the arrow.”

“They wouldn’t have seen you,” Harper said with realization. “Just his silhouette.”

Elvi turned to Victor. “They were aiming for you. I just got in the way.”

When he didn’t argue, but stood frowning at the couple in the sunroom, she added, “I’ll call Teddy about this in the morning and see what he can do. In the meantime, it might be better if you stay in the house…and away from windows.”

Elvi found herself harassed back into bed after this little exercise. She didn’t argue. The little jaunt had exhausted her. She obviously wasn’t fully recovered yet. Leaving Mabel and the men to debate what they should do about the unknown assailant who seemed to be after Victor, Elvi trudged upstairs to her bed and fell asleep almost at once.

Of course, going to sleep so early had her waking early and Elvi opened her eyes to a treat she hadn’t enjoyed for a long time; sunlight was backlighting the dark red blinds of her room, not getting in, but lightening them to a rose color. Smiling at the sight, she glanced toward the digital clock and caught her breath. It wasn’t even noon yet. She could go out and work in the garden.

Pushing the sheets aside, Elvi hopped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. She was in and out of the shower and dressed in record time, and then flew from her room.

“Good morning,” Mabel greeted her with surprise as she came around the corner into the kitchen–dining area. “You’re up early.”

“So are you.” Elvi smiled at the woman. Mabel had started out working the day shift in the restaurant, but had found herself staying up later and later to keep Elvi company through the long lonely hours of the night when nothing in their small town was open. The woman had eventually adjusted to a later shift as well.

“DJ and I went to bed right after you,” she murmured. The blush that rose up to cover her cheeks seemed to suggest they hadn’t spent the entire time sleeping.

Turning her face away to hide a grin, Elvi moved to the refrigerator and retrieved a bag of blood. She had the first bag while standing there with the fridge door open, then grabbed a second bag and slapped it to her teeth, closed the door and walked over to deposit the empty bag in the garbage can. Elvi then walked over to peer out the window while she waited for the second bag to disappear.

A little sigh slid around the bag in her mouth as she peered out at the sunlit yard. Maple trees, spruce trees and lilac trees lined the sides and back, interspersed with irises, rose bushes, climbing clematis and various other flowers. A birdbath sat near the back right corner by a white bower and as Elvi pulled the now empty bag from her teeth, she chuckled at the sight of two birds splashing and flapping around in it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so close to the window,” Mabel said with concern.

“Victor said I could go out in sunlight,” Elvi reminded her as she threw out the second bag.

“Yes, but it will weaken you,” Mabel told her. “You want to avoid it as much as possible.”

Elvi snorted at the suggestion. Far from wanting to avoid it, she wanted to run out there and roll around naked in it. God, she’d missed the sun.

“Mabel’s right,” DJ announced coming into the kitchen from the foyer. “The more exposure you get, the more blood you will need.”

“But I want to go outside in the garden,” Elvi said and frowned at the childlike whine in her own voice. She turned to peer out at the yard, feeling like a penniless child staring through the window of a sweetshop, mouth watering over the sight of all those lovely treats, but knowing she couldn’t have them.

“You can go out, but you need to be careful,” DJ said soothingly. “You’ll have to wear long sleeves and a hat and gloves, and stay in the shade as much as possible. And you’ll have to double up on blood.”

Elvi frowned guiltily. She survived on blood the townspeople donated and didn’t want to burden them any more than she had, but she so wanted to go out in the garden.

“Go on,” DJ said quietly. “Go put on a long-sleeved shirt and find a hat with a big brim. And switch those capri pants for long-legged slacks.”

Elvi didn’t have to be told twice, turning on her heel; she jogged back upstairs to change. She would restrict her forays into daylight, but she was definitely going out today.

By the time she was finished changing, Elvi’s room looked like a small tornado had hit it. She’d tossed her clothes off, throwing them willy-nilly and leaving them where they landed, hopping back to the door as she was still pulling on a pair of dark slacks. Elvi did up the buttons of her blouse in the hall on the way to the stairs and arrived downstairs lacking only a hat and gloves. Fortunately, Mabel had those for her. She also had sunscreen, and under DJ’s instruction, slathered it on so thick that it was a series of white streaks on her skin.

Elvi suffered all this uncomplaining, knowing the pair were just trying to look after her, but the moment they decided they’d done the best they could to protect her and stepped out of the way, Elvi was off like a racehorse leaving its stall. Charging forward, she slammed through the kitchen door and out onto the back deck, only to pause there and stand frozen, shaking with excitement and a little fear under the midday sun.

She didn’t burst into flames, which was a relief, and while the sun felt lovely warm on her skin, it wasn’t burning hot or anything. It felt quite lovely. Elvi let loose a little sigh of mingled relief and pleasure, then walked to the edge of the deck, and paused again, her gaze moving over her garden, taking in everything.

Before the turn, Elvi had spent hours everyday in her garden; weeding, planting, pruning, watering. She used to keep feeders with seed for birds and used to leave out peanuts for the squirrels, chipmunks, and blue jays, and bread for the finches. Every day she spent some time just relaxing and watching the animals come for their fare. That all ended when she was turned.

The bird feeders now sat empty and neglected, most of them in poor repair. The birdbath had water in it, but only because it had rained last night. It was in desperate need of cleaning. As for the garden itself, it had grown wild over the last five years. One day wasn’t going to be enough to repair the damage time had done. Two weeks of working from dawn to dusk wouldn’t have been enough time, and Elvi felt her shoulders slump with disappointment.

By moonlight, the garden hadn’t looked nearly this bad. It seemed obvious that she was going to need help with this project. She’d have to hire landscapers or something to do most of it, Elvi realized. She’d look into that next week, once the men were gone, but for now she could at least do some of it herself and see what was left of the garden she’d tended so lovingly before the turn.

“Elvi?”

It took a moment for her to realize where the voice came from. She actually glanced back toward the house before thinking to glance toward her neighbor’s backyard. There was a privacy fence between her property and Mike and Karen Knight’s, but the deck was raised a good two and a half feet, allowing her a view into their backyard. Elvi used to stop and talk to them over the fence before the turn, but between not thinking she could go out during the day and her evenings being taken up with the restaurant, she hadn’t had a chat over the fence since the turn.

A smile curved her lips when she spotted Karen standing beside a basket of laundry on the other side of the fence. The woman was gaping at her.

“Surprise, huh?” Elvi asked wryly. Of course, as far as everyone knew, she couldn’t go out in daylight. There would be a lot of surprised people in the near future. Karen wasn’t a gossip, so the news of her being out in daylight wouldn’t go far until someone else saw her.

Closing her mouth, Karen abandoned her laundry and approached the fence. “What are you doing out during the day? Should you be? And are you all right? You look awfully pale.”

“I’m fine. The white is just suntan lotion,” Elvi assured her with a laugh. “And, yes, I can be out here as long as I’m careful. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“That’s marvelous,” Karen grinned, but there was still worry on her face and Elvi knew everyone would worry at first. They were used to her hiding from sunlight, it would take time for them to adjust.

“Is Owen working today?” Elvi asked to distract the woman from her concern. Summer would soon be over and school starting again. She knew Owen would be going back for one more year to pick up some extra credits, but in the meantime he had a couple of part-time jobs in the summer. However, rather than distract the woman from her worry, the question backfired, making the concern deepen.

“No.” Karen glanced toward the house with a small frown. “He doesn’t work until later in the day. He’s still sleeping right now.”

“Still?” Elvi asked with surprise. It was nearing noon.

“Yes, it’s all he seems to do lately,” Karen murmured with a troubled expression, then forced a little laugh and said, “Teenagers!”

“Yes.” Elvi smiled faintly. Even Casey had gone through a period where she slept a lot.

“Well.” Karen managed a more natural smile. “Does this mean we can expect you at the fair earlier in the day than you usually come?”

“The fair?” Elvi asked blankly.

“For the Abused Kids’ Shelter,” Karen reminded her and laughed teasingly. “All those men in the house didn’t make you forget, did they? I hope not. Your booth makes loads of money.”

Elvi’s mind slowly recalled what she was talking about. The end-of-summer fair. It started Thursday and ran through to Sunday. Elvi usually had a biting booth and also baked—

“And your pies, of course. They always sell like hotcakes,” Karen added. She made a face. “I wish I could make crust as flaky as yours. You know Mike will insist I buy at least six and freeze four for later.”

“Pies!” Elvi finished her thought aloud in a panicked voice, then catching Karen’s surprised face, explained, “I forgot all about it. Oh, damn! I have to go!”

Whirling on her heel, Elvi raced for the house.

It was late when Victor woke up. He’d spent the better part of the night and morning watching over Elvi while she slept. The men seemed just as convinced as Elvi that no one would try to harm her and he must be the target. Edward had even gone so far as to suggest that perhaps he shouldn’t spend time around her since it seemed to be putting her in harm’s way. The hell of it was, Edward was right. If he was the target, then her being too close to him had got her hurt last night.

Sighing, he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He’d been leaning heavily toward Edward being behind the attacks directly after Elvi was hurt. The fact that the immortal had been missing from the parking lot in front of the furniture store when the first arrow had been launched, not to mention that the men had been home last night when the second arrow was shot had made him briefly suspect him, but after thinking about it last night, it just didn’t make sense.

Any immortal would know an arrow wouldn’t kill another immortal, even if lodged in the heart. So long as the arrow was removed, the nanos would heal the wound, set the heart pumping again, and the immortal would be fine…unless their head was cut off or something while they were down.

No, the use of the arrow suggested a mortal to him. It was basically a wooden stake with flights and a metal tip and mortals might think it would work if shot through the heart. As far as Victor knew, he hadn’t pissed off any mortals lately in Port Henry. He’d only been here a matter of days.

Besides, what if the archer had seen Elvi move onto his lap and saw their silhouettes merge into one? The arrow had hit soon enough after they’d started to kiss for that to be more than possible. Which meant they were back to his not knowing who the target was and fretting over Elvi, which was why he’d stood guard over her while she slept, watching over her until he heard stirring from Mabel’s room and had realized he was dozing off in the chair he’d placed next to her bed.

Sure she was safe with Mabel and DJ up and about, Victor finally took himself off to feed and then to bed. He’d briefly considered sleeping in her room, but hadn’t wanted to do so without getting her permission first and hadn’t been willing to wake her to get it. But now he wished he had. It would have been nice to wake with her lying beside him, to be able to roll over and slip his arms around her, pull her close and press his nose to her neck and inhale the scent of her. Their coming together had been explosive and he’d had trouble keeping it out of his thoughts ever since…until he’d seen the arrow protruding from her back. That had been a bucket of ice water on such thoughts, leaving him sick with concern and fury, a fury he hadn’t been able to vent, but had been forced to push down and ignore.

Now he felt it tugging at his emotions again and resolutely got out of bed. Anger wouldn’t help them in this matter. It would simply cloud his judgment and possibly slow his reactions. He needed a clear head to handle the situation and keep Elvi safe. Unfortunately, he already knew that a clear head would be hard to maintain around Elvi. She was his lifemate. Whether the other men could read her or not, in his mind she had made her choice by making love with him. She was his. His mind had already accepted that and was running on overdrive, putting thoughts and ideas and plans for the future in his head. A future they wouldn’t have if she got killed.

It seemed to him that the best way to deal with the matter was to try to keep his distance as Edward had suggested. Keeping an eye on her, but not staying close enough to put her in harm’s way, and giving himself some distance in the hopes that his brain would be able to function seemed the best way to proceed. He wasn’t happy with this bit of logic. His whole being was crying out to be close to her, but he was going to have to ignore that to keep her safe.

It was going to be a struggle.

After showering and dressing, Victor made his way to Elvi’s room, fully expecting her to be lying peacefully in bed, getting the sleep he felt sure her body needed. Instead, he found himself staring at an empty, unmade bed and a floor with clothes lying strewn about.

Pulling the door closed with a snap, Victor turned and hurried downstairs, rushing into the kitchen only to jerk to a halt in amazement.

Elvi was alive and well and presently covered with a fine dusting of flour as she worked frantically at something on the dining room table. So were Edward, Alessandro, and Harper.

“Is this better, Elvi?” Alessandro held up what appeared to be a pie of some sort.

“Much, Alessandro.” Elvi beamed at the man. “Definitely a seller. Put it over with the others to be filled.”

“My crust keeps breaking,” Edward growled impatiently, dipping his fingers in a bowl of some liquid and then rubbing them over a crack that had appeared in the crust he was working with.

“You’re doing fine,” Elvi assured him. “They always crack.”

Edward muttered something under his breath, but repaired the crack and carefully lifted the shell into a foil pie plate, releasing a small breath of relief when he managed to do so without the shell falling apart in his hands.

“Well done,” Elvi encouraged, patting his arm briefly before her gaze slipped to Harper’s efforts. The German didn’t appear to be having any trouble at all with his own pie. If anything, he was wielding the rolling pin and handling the crust with the finesse of a professional. And Victor wasn’t the only one to notice.

“You’re very good at this, Harper,” Elvi said curiously. “I take it you’ve done this before?”

“Hmm. I was the personal chef for emperor-elect Maximilian I when I was younger,” Harper informed her.

“Emperor-elect Maximilian I?” Elvi asked uncertainly.

“The easiest way to explain it is to say he was like a king to the eastern Franks,” the man explained with a shrug.

Victor didn’t think Elvi was too sure she understood, but rather than ask for a history lesson, she nodded and turned her attention back to her own pie, deftly lifting the crust into an aluminum pie plate.

“Does someone want to tell me why the four of you are playing Betty Crocker?” Victor asked finally. His gaze then slid to the counter where some twenty pie crusts sat waiting to be filled and he added, “And who the hell are all these pies for?”

Elvi raised her head and offered a surprised smile. “Oh, good morning, Victor.”

Spotting the smudge of flour on her cheek and nose, Victor found himself smiling back. She was so adorable.

“The pies are for the end of summer fair,” she explained, answering the last question first. “The proceeds will go to help the Abused Kids’ Shelter. I’m afraid I’d quite forgotten all about it what with your arrival and everything. Fortunately, the men were kind enough to offer their help.”

“Harper volunteered us,” Edward corrected with a grimace.

“It’s only fair. We are here for free, eating the food and consuming the blood. Is little enough to make some pies,” Alessandro said with a shrug.

Edward muttered something under his breath, but the fact that he was there helping suggested he agreed. He wasn’t someone who did things he didn’t want to, so it seemed obvious he was willing to help. Victor supposed the grumbling was purely to ensure his machismo wasn’t affected by participating in this womanly chore.

He watched them work for another moment, then heaved a sigh and moved toward the table. “So, what can I do to help?”

Sixteen

“There.” Elvi sealed the lid on the last pie and stepped back with a relieved sigh. It had been a hectic two days, but they’d done it. One hundred pies. They’d finished more than half of them yesterday before staggering off to their various beds, then Elvi had woken before the others again today and set right back to work, grateful when the men had joined her again as they woke.

Elvi peered over the results with weary satisfaction. At least the visible results, most of the pies were already baked and sitting on shelves in the cupboard room between the garage and kitchen. There were also a dozen down in the cold room, waiting for their turn in the oven, and these last six here in the kitchen that she and the men had just finished with.

All she had to do was bake the eighteen left and box them and they were all set for tomorrow. And she couldn’t have done it without the men. Alessandro had tried to rush, messing up more than he’d made at first, and Edward was a very slow, meticulous worker, but Harper had been a dream and Victor had proven to be a skilled pie maker once shown how to do it. So, shortly after Victor had joined their efforts, Elvi had set Alessandro and Edward to peeling apples and cooking the cherries for the fillings, and that had worked well.

“These look done,” Victor announced from where he stood bent over, peering into the oven. “Should I take them out and switch them for three more?”

“Yes, please.” Elvi picked up two of the pies from the table, smiling when Harper hurried over and picked up a third with his free hand. His other was holding a bag of blood to his mouth. As each man had finished their last pie, they’d moved to the fridge in search of sustenance. All except Victor, who had moved to the oven to inspect the pies presently baking.

Come to think of it, Elvi realized, she’d never seen Victor feed. It made her wonder if he had to feed less because of his age, or if he was just shy about feeding in front of others. She pondered the matter as she waited for Victor to lift out the last of the three pies in the oven. Once he’d removed the last one, Elvi slid in both of the pies she carried, and then turned to take the last one from Harper. When she straightened from placing it on the oven shelf, she closed the door and turned away to find Victor at her side, holding out a bag of blood.

“Thank you.” Elvi took it, and then asked, “Aren’t you going to have one?”

The sudden silence in the room was startling. All eyes had turned to Victor with an odd, expectant silence, but he merely shrugged and turned away, muttering, “Not right now.”

Elvi frowned, noting that the men were all now evading her eyes and concentrating on feeding or throwing out the bag they’d just finished, depending on where they were in the process. Elvi glanced from one man to the other, then to Victor again and commented, “I don’t remember you having any when you got up.”

Each man had headed to the refrigerator for a bag of blood or two on entering the kitchen, fed, and then disposed of the bags before joining her at the table. All of them except Victor. He’d walked straight to the table without detouring to feed.

“We have refrigerators in our room,” he reminded her, and then said, “I’ll take these pies down to the cold room.”

He collected two of the pies they’d just finished making and headed for the door to the basement. Harper grabbed the last pie, stepped forward to open the door, then followed him down and pulled it closed behind them.

“So, what are we going to do now?” Edward asked ending the silence in the room once the two men were gone. “Bake brownies or some other entertaining pastime?”

Elvi smiled faintly at his sarcasm. The man really needed some social skills. It was no wonder the other men disliked him, but they’d been wrong about his playing nice with her. She was the brunt of his sarcastic comments as often as the others. He really didn’t seem to like others much. If he ever wished to get himself a lifemate, he really needed to work on that.

“Actually, I was thinking that I would take you gentlemen out for supper and drinks as a thank-you for all your help with this,” Elvi informed him.

“Where?” Edward asked doubtfully.

Elvi shrugged, “Well, we could go to Bella Black’s for dinner, or—”

“No, thank you,” he said at once.

Elvi bit her lip, wondering if he’d just insulted her restaurant. “Well, as I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted, or there are a couple other restaurants in town that—”

“Elvi, my dear,” Edward interrupted. “I wasn’t slagging your restaurant when I said no. I’m sure the food there is wonderful, it certainly smelled delicious while we were there. However, while you may be content to be the local pet, I’d rather not be stared and whispered over all night,” the man said dryly, then added, “Eating or drinking anywhere in this town is hardly relaxing.”

“‘Pet’?” Elvi echoed.

“I’m afraid the Edward he is right,” Alessandro said gently. “Is not so comfortable here with everyone doing the staring and whispering. At the play with the Knights, we watch the show, but everyone else, they watch us. Is better we go elsewhere I think.”

Elvi let her breath out on a little sigh, dropping her contention with Edward’s use of the term pet…for now. She did understand what the men were saying. It had been the same when she’d first returned, but had eased with time. Now that the men were here, it had started all over again.

“Well, we could go into the city,” she suggested.

“The city?” Alessandro asked with interest, but Edward said, “Carousing with a bunch of drunken mortals isn’t exactly an alternative we’d be interested in.”

“Well, I’m afraid there isn’t much choice,” Elvi said with exasperation. “As far as I know, most people are mortals. You’re the first vampires I’ve met in five years around here.”

“That you know of,” Edward pointed out. “Unfortunately, lacking in training as you are, I don’t think you’d recognize an immortal unless they bit you…which of course they wouldn’t do because they’d know you were an immortal and so your blood would be useless to them.”

Elvi scowled with irritation, wondering why he was still here. If he hadn’t just spent the last two days helping her make pies, she’d have asked him outright to leave. He really had no chance with her as a lifemate. Even if she weren’t already involved with Victor, Edward was just too annoying to suit her.

“Toronto is only two or three hours away,” Alessandro piped up. “We could go to the Night Club.”

Elvi opened her mouth to ask what the night club was when the door to the garage opened and Mabel led DJ into the house. Forgetting about the night club for the moment, she eyed the pair with surprise. “You’re home early.”

Mabel shrugged. “I left Pedro in charge. DJ and I wanted some time alone.”

“Oh.” Elvi was surprised, but supposed she shouldn’t have been. While Mabel had intended on taking over all responsibility for the restaurant while Elvi got to know her “dates,” she hadn’t counted on falling in love with DJ, and that’s what she’d done. By her guess, it wouldn’t be long before the issue of turning came up and Elvi was hoping she’d agree.

“What are you guys doing? Going out anywhere?” DJ looked hopeful. It seemed obvious he was hoping for some time alone with Mabel.

“We are thinking to go to the Night Club,” Alessandro announced.

“What’s the Night Club?” Mabel asked the question their entrance had stopped Elvi from asking, and then shifted out of the way as the door to the basement opened and Victor and Harper rejoined them.

“It is the Night Club,” Alessandro said with a shrug. “Is bar, where immortals go at night.”

“Of course, it keeps longer hours than mortal bars and clubs, and the beverages are more to our liking,” Edward added.

“Hmm.” Elvi was curious. The idea of a bar filled with immortals was tantalizing. She might meet other female immortals who could help her with things that a male immortal wouldn’t even think of addressing. But her eyes slid to the clock on the stove and she felt disappointment claim her.

“Three hours there, three hours back, and I’d have to shower and change,” she shook her head unhappily. “I don’t think—”

“We can do it,” Harper interrupted firmly. “I’ll have my helicopter collect us. We’ll be there in a trice. You get ready. I shall arrange everything.”

“A helicopter? Really?” Elvi asked with amazement. She’d known from their cars that these men were well off, but a personal helicopter? Holy! The guy must be loaded. Her gaze slid to Victor then and she frowned when she saw that he was looking less than pleased at the idea of the outing.

“Yes, really.” Harper gave her a gentle push. “Go on. Get ready.”

“But what about the pies?” Elvi said reluctantly.

“I’ll bake them for you,” Mabel announced, catching Elvi’s arm and urging her toward the stairs. “Come on. I’ll help you get ready. You can wear that red dress with the slit up the side.”

Elvi allowed herself to be hurried upstairs. It bothered her that Victor didn’t seem pleased with the idea of the outing, but she was too curious to see this club for immortals to let it stop her. Mabel got out the red dress she’d mentioned while Elvi showered, then helped with her hair and makeup and accessories before helping her dress.

Elvi smiled as she peered down at the deep red cocktail dress with its short skirt and halter top. She’d never expected to get the chance to wear it when she’d bought it. All she ever wore was black at the restaurant and events, but she hadn’t been able to help herself when she saw it in the store. Now she was glad she hadn’t.

Once finished zipping her up, Mabel stepped back and grinned.

“You are so going to turn on Victor in that,” she chuckled and urged her to the door. “Come on. You guys have been working like crazy to get those pies done the last two days, and I know you haven’t got a chance to repeat the garage scene with Victor. Have fun tonight. You never have fun anymore, and you deserve it. So promise me you’ll try to relax and have fun.”

“I promise,” Elvi laughed, her anticipation for the night ahead suddenly increasing exponentially. She and Victor hadn’t even kissed the last two days since the arrow incident. There simply hadn’t been an opportunity with all of the men working on the pies. While Elvi had known that, she’d still felt slightly bereft that he hadn’t even tried to sneak a kiss or something here or there. Or slid into her room at night to rouse her with kisses and caresses. Without the real thing, Elvi had found herself suffering—or enjoying, depending on how you looked at it—some pretty erotic dreams. Dreams that had seemed incredibly real and left her waking panting and dripping with sweat among other things.

Not that she was complaining, it was better than the nightmares she normally had about her husband and daughter’s death and her own accident in Mexico. Still, the real thing would have been more reassuring. Elvi was starting to doubt his interest in her and knew that was silly. He was the one who had claimed she was his lifemate.

“Ah, bella, you are perfection on the legs,” Alessandro proclaimed coming up the hall as Mabel joined her outside her bedroom door.

“Does that mean the rest of me is okay but my legs are ugly?” Elvi asked with amusement.

“No!” Alessandro looked horrified that she might think so. “No, bella. You have the beautiful legs; so slender, so shapely, every man’s dream.”

“Oh, Alessandro, you’re such a flirt.” Elvi laughed, shaking her head as she led the way to the stairs.

“This is a bad thing?” Alessandro asked, sounding concerned.

“Not at all,” she assured him lightly. “It’s just that I suspect you’re just as effusive with every woman you meet, and it makes it difficult to take you seriously.”

“That is bad,” he said on an unhappy sigh. “The Canadians, they are so sensible, much like the British. As are the Americans. You have no soul, no romance in you. Not like we Italians. To us love is everything and beauty is something to be celebrated. Women should be kissed and told they are bella.”

“How long have you been in Canada?” Elvi asked with a sudden curiosity.

“Ten years.”

“Why did you come?”

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “We try not to stay too long in the one place. Ten years, maybe. We no age. Stay too long, it brings the questions. So we go. Another place, then another, and maybe twenty…thirty years we go home as a cousin, the son, or someone else. By then, those who knew us they have moved, or aged, or died, or simply do not remember us and we are safe for another ten years before we must move again.”

“How awful,” Elvi said with real sympathy. “I can’t imagine having to live like that.”

“Ah, but you don’t have to,” he pointed out. “You have the good setup here. Your people, they love you, and protect you from needing to do this.”

“Yes,” Elvi agreed quietly. While her life wasn’t perfect, she did have a home she didn’t have to leave and didn’t have to constantly worry about hiding what she was, which allowed her to enjoy the love and support of her friends and neighbors.

“There you are!” Edward said with annoyance when they came around the corner into the kitchen. “We’ve been waiting—”

“But you are surely worth every minute of the wait,” Harper interrupted gallantly, crossing the room to take her hand and press a kiss to the back of her fingers.

Flushing with embarrassment, Elvi glanced over his bowed head to Victor. He leaned against the low wall, his expression unreadable. She wasn’t sure how he felt about Harper’s gallant greeting, but he wasn’t making an effort to approach her himself.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady.” Harper settled her hand on his arm and urged her to the door leading out onto the deck.

Elvi had thought they’d have to drive to the nearest airport where his helicopter would be waiting. She’d thought wrong. With the other men following, Harper escorted her across the deck and down the sidewalk to the driveway, but then continued past the cars parked there.

“What—” Elvi began with confusion, only to pause as she spotted the helicopter in the school yard across the street.

“My pilot is one of the best,” Harper informed her with pride. “He can land this contraption anywhere.”

“So I see,” Elvi said with a laugh as they started across the street.

“Have you ever been in a helicopter before?” he asked, eyes shining. When Elvi shook her head, he grinned. “Then this shall be a treat.”

Elvi didn’t know about a treat, but it certainly was an experience. One she wasn’t entirely sure she enjoyed. It was quick, though, quicker than driving would have been, and it wasn’t long before they were setting down on a helipad on the rooftop of a building in downtown Toronto.

“What did you think?” Harper asked expectantly as they rode down to ground level in a rather luxurious elevator.

“I think I need a drink,” Elvi said honestly. The men all laughed as if she was joking, but Elvi was pretty sure she’d left her stomach behind in the school yard.

“The Night Club is several blocks from here. Will you be able to manage in those shoes?” Victor asked, speaking for the first time since her arrival in the kitchen.

“I think so,” Elvi said, and was sure it was true. Part of her outfit each night at the restaurant included high-heeled black shoes. She was quite used to walking and standing in the items.

Victor nodded, and immediately returned to his previous silence, even stepping back for Harper to escort her as the elevator doors opened. She felt like a football passed off to the other man in a game and couldn’t help resenting it. Where had his interest gone? The other night he was claiming she was his lifemate and now he seemed to be staying as far away from her as possible.

Hurt, Elvi felt her lip tremble, then bit it viciously and raised her chin as Harper escorted her out of the building. If he wasn’t interested anymore, fine. She had three other suitors to take his place. Her heart cried out that none of those three men were Victor, but Elvi’s pride insisted it would have to be enough.

Slipping off her shoes under the table, Elvi peered around the Night Club. She wasn’t at all sure what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. With its loud music, flashing lights, and tables crowded around a dance floor, it could have been any mortal nightclub in any city in the world. Not that she’d thought there would be coffins for tables or upside-down crosses on the walls, but really, had she wandered in here by mistake, she was sure there was no way she would know it wasn’t a mortal nightclub.

“What can I get you folks?”

Elvi glanced to their waitress. Short, blond, and cute, the girl was no more than twenty-two or twenty-three. Obviously a university student earning her way through school— Elvi barely finished the thought when the woman burst out laughing

“You must be a newbie. Honey, I haven’t seen twenty-three for over a century,” the waitress said, obviously having read her mind. Softening her words with a smile, she added, “The first drinks are on the house for new-bies. And it’s a Virgin Mary.”

“Virgin Mary?” Elvi asked. She wasn’t sure, but suspected it wasn’t the drink she thought it would be.

“Blood of virgins,” the woman informed her. “Very rare, very expensive, and very delicious.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Elvi managed a smile. She’d noticed a difference in the taste of blood over the years, some were sweeter, some were more robust, some slightly bitter, some thin and almost watery tasting. But it had never occurred to her that the blood of a virgin would taste different than a non-virgin. It made her wonder what the blood of a virgin would taste like. She’d probably had it at least once in five years, but wouldn’t know by the flavor. Elvi supposed she’d find out soon enough, though, then frowned as she noted the way the woman was raising her eyebrows at Victor.

“Well, hello Mr. Argeneau. You’re running a little late, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” he asked with apparent confusion.

“Well, the rest of the tribe got here an hour ago,” the waitress explained.

Elsie saw the panic cross Victor’s face, but he asked carefully, “The tribe?”

“Etienne and Rachel, Lissianna and Greg, Thomas, and Lucian, and some girl I’ve never seen before that they called Leigh.” She shrugged and continued, “But if you were expecting to meet up with them, I’m afraid you’re too late. They already left.”

“What a shame,” he murmured, but Elvi got the distinct impression he wasn’t sorry to hear this at all.

“So, what would you have to drink?” the waitress asked when he didn’t comment further.

“Most of the people she mentioned are relatives of Victor’s, his niece and nephews and their mates,” Harper murmured as Victor gave his order. “I don’t know who this Leigh is, but Lucian is head of the council and Victor’s older brother.”

“His older brother?” Elvi asked with disbelief, finding it hard to believe there was anyone older than Victor.

“He is one of the oldest,” Harper said with a nod. “Lucian and his twin brother Jean Claude were among the very few survivors who fled Atlantis.”

“Atlantis. Right,” Elvi murmured, recalling their explanation of the nanos and where they originated.

“Would you care to dance while we wait for our drinks?” Harper asked once the waitress had finished taking their orders and left the table.

For some reason, Elvi’s gaze shifted to Victor before she answered. His expression was completely indifferent and she was reminded that he had apparently lost interest in her. Forcing a bright smile, she nodded and got to her feet. “I’d like that.”

Elvi had always loved to dance, fast dancing, slow dancing; she loved it all and hadn’t done it in ages. That and the fact that Victor was completely ignoring her, his attention seeming always to be on another table or just moving around the club, encouraged her to avoid the table and dance most of the night away. As long as she was on the dance floor, she didn’t have to feel hurt that he was being so distant with her. And could pretend she didn’t notice when he slipped away for half an hour.

Elvi danced with all the men but Victor. Edward was very good at salsa. Alessandro was the best of them at fast dancing. Harper was efficient at them all, but it was Victor she really wanted to dance with and the only one who didn’t ask her.

Despite her wounded feelings, Elvi had a good time, but she was also relieved when Harper caught her yawning and decided it was time to go. It was only two A.M., but she’d been up early again that day, rising at ten A.M. to work on the pies.

Aside from that, her feet were aching, her body weary, and she’d definitely had too much to drink. The Virgin Mary had only been the first of many. Every time Elvi had sat down, it seemed one of the men had a new drink for her to try. She’d had High Times, Wino Reds, and various other drinks she later found out were supplied by donors on some high or other.

Personally, Elvi would’ve preferred to stick to Sweet Tooths and drinks of that ilk. She didn’t care for the woozy feeling the other beverages gave her and was just glad she was dancing the worst of the effects away…or so she’d thought. However, when she stood to leave after finishing her last drink at the end of the night, Elvi found herself a little unsteady on her feet.

The walk back to the helicopter seemed farther than the walk from it had been, but Elvi got there all right and settled between Harper and Victor with a little sigh of relief. It seemed they’d barely taken off when her eyes began to droop from a combination of overfeeding and the substances in the drinks. She soon let her eyes droop closed, and relaxed in her seat.

“She’s asleep,” Harper murmured when the helicopter landed and Elvi didn’t stir from where she’d slumped back against the seat.

“Yes.” Victor lifted her into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He’d determined to try to keep some distance from her while they sorted out who was gunning for him…or her, but while he’d stood aside and let Harper, Edward, and Alessandro hang over her all evening, it had been a sort of hell to do so…made worse by the fact that Elvi hadn’t even seemed to care.

He’d originally intended to take her aside and explain what he was doing, but hadn’t got the chance before leaving, and then she’d just seemed so okay with it, his wounded pride had refused to allow him to do it, reminding him that while he couldn’t read her, neither could the rest of the men. Any of them would suit her as a lifemate and she apparently had her choice. Despite having slept with him, she may not have committed herself. After all, Victor had reminded himself, she’d fled the house after his announcing that she was his lifemate. Perhaps that was her way of telling him something.

Despite all of that, Victor would be damned if he was leaving her to be carried to the house by one of the others. As far as he was concerned he’d shown enough restraint for a lifetime standing idly by while she danced with them when his very blood had cried out with rage at the very idea. As for the drinks they’d talked her into trying, Victor would have liked to wring Edward and Alessandro’s necks for suggesting them. And hers for trying them without asking what they were.

Elvi was far too trusting and was just fortunate the four of them were there, acting as a restraint on each other. He wouldn’t like to think of her alone with Alessandro insisting she drink this or that and not telling her what the contents were until after she’d imbibed it. The man was a Cassanova, and though he was behaving himself so far, Victor suspected that was only due to the presence of the others.

As for Edward…Victor frowned. He had no idea what the Brit was up to. He wasn’t the sort to try to get a lady drunk and take advantage of her, but he’d suggested an intoxicating drink or two that night. Although, that was only at the beginning of the evening and may have been an attempt to make her relax a little and enjoy herself. Elvi had been slightly tense and wound up at first.

They were nearly to the gate leading out of the school yard when the helicopter started its rotor whirling. Pressing Elvi closer to his chest to protect her from the flying debris it kicked up, Victor scowled over his shoulder at the bloody machine. Elvi had been obviously impressed that Harper had his own personal whirlybird. He didn’t know why. Hell, he could have a helicopter if he wanted one but he hated the damned things. He flew in them often enough as an enforcer and always felt like his stomach got left behind and took hours to catch up.

“You’re back!” DJ came running down the driveway as they started up it, his expression and tone panicked. “Thank God!”

“What is it?” Victor asked, automatically picking up his steps and moving more quickly.

“Mabel,” DJ gasped, turning and hurrying back toward the house. “I think something’s wrong.”

“Mabel?” Elvi asked sleepily as DJ disappeared into the house, not waiting for them or even bothering to explain.

Victor glanced down as he crossed the deck.

Elvi was stirring in his arms, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to wake up. She glanced around with confusion. “Are we back?”

“Yes,” he muttered, stepping through the door Harper held open, and then all hell broke loose. Mabel’s shrieks could be heard the moment they were in the house, the sound filled with desperate agony. It turned Elvi into a scalded cat in his arms. The only thing missing was the hissing as she suddenly thrashed around to free herself. Afraid she would hurt herself, Victor set her down, and then gave chase when she raced for the stairs.

“Mabel!” Elvi shouted as the woman’s screams clawed down her back, leaving icy trails in their wake. She mounted the stairs at a run, hearing the thunder of the men following her, but uncaring what they did.

She burst into Mabel’s bedroom at speed. Spotting the woman thrashing in the bed despite DJ’s attempts to restrain her, she hurried to the bedside to help.

“What happened?!” Elsie yelled, trying to hold down Mabel’s shoulders. She was a thing in motion, head whipping, body convulsing, and Elvi couldn’t see her properly to tell where she was hurting. Much to her relief, on hearing her voice Mabel’s screams dropped to quiet moans. She continued to thrash, though, and Elvi repeated, “What happened?”

“I was trying to turn her,” DJ said anxiously and shook his head. “But something’s gone wrong. She’s…” He let the words drop away and caught at one of Mabel’s hands as she slammed it into the bed headboard.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, DJ!” Victor stomped to the side of the bed with the other men following. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going to turn her? I could have helped. There’s no need for her to go through this. There are drugs and things we could have done to ease her through it.”

“I didn’t know!” DJ explained. “It wasn’t planned. We were talking and she said she wanted to, and to do it now before she changed her mind. So I…did,” he said helplessly. “I’ve never seen a turning before. I didn’t know it would be so…Help her!” he cried as Mabel’s shrieks increased in volume again.

Victor shook his head with exasperation, and then took charge, sending Alessandro to find some rope to tie her down, Harper to the nearest twenty-four-hour drugstore to make the pharmacist give him the drugs that would help her through it, and sending Edward to fetch more blood.

“How long ago did you give her your blood?” Victor asked as soon as the three men had left to search out what he’d sent them for.

“I…” DJ looked uncertain. “It seems like days. I thought you’d never get back.”

“What time?” Victor insisted.

“Maybe an hour after you guys left,” DJ said finally.

“How much blood have you given her?” Victor asked.

“I—” He shook his head. “None. She hasn’t got fangs yet.”

DJ had barely said the words when Mabel proved him wrong. Elvi was kneeling on the top corner of the bed, leaning over Mabel trying to hold her shoulders down. She also had her head turned away, glancing toward the men as Victor asked his questions. She never saw it coming when Mabel suddenly reared up and ripped into her throat with a frenzied snarl. She sure felt it though…and there were definitely fangs there. Elvi managed a strangled scream that got the men’s attention. They both immediately moved to help her.

Seventeen

Victor let the towel drop back down over Elvi’s throat with a soft curse. “She damned near ripped your head off.”

“She didn’t mean to,” Elvi reminded him for the third time since he’d bundled her into her room and settled her in his lap on the bed to pop bag after bag of blood to her fangs. Her voice, she noticed, was getting better, less a broken hiss and more her old voice. It must be nearly healed.

“Don’t talk,” Victor said, also for the third time, and slapped another bag of blood to her teeth. He was scowling, but the expression actually soothed her. The man had been cold and distant all night, but there was nothing cold or distant about him now. He definitely cared about her. He was furious and worried and all the things a man who loved her should be when she was so badly injured.

It was just a darned shame she had to get her throat ripped open to see his caring again, Elvi thought, and scowled at him over the bag in her mouth. Really, the man blew hot and cold like an air conditioner with a broken thermostat.

“How is she?” Harper asked, drawing their attention to the door.

“Fine,” Elvi assured him, pulling the empty bag from her teeth. “How is Mabel?”

“She’s doing better,” he said cautiously. “It’s going to be a long one, though. She’s older and there’s a lot to repair. We’re going to need more blood.”

“I’ll call Teddy. He’ll pick up some from the blood bank and bring it by,” Elvi assured him. “Do we have enough to last a couple more hours? I’d rather not wake him up at”—she paused to glance at the clock, then finished—“four-thirty in the morning.”

Harper considered the matter before saying, “Barring her ripping out someone else’s throat, I think the blood will last until midmorning.”

Elvi nodded. “I’ll call him first thing in the morning, then. He’ll be upset when he hears what’s happened and it would be better if she was further along in the turning.”

Nodding, Harper backed out of the room, assuring them he’d keep them posted as he pulled the door closed.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm about all this,” Victor muttered, taking the empty blood bag from her and tossing it in the garbage can he’d moved beside the bed.

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” Elvi repeated as he reached for a fresh bag.

“Yes, but—Hell, you seem almost cheerful about it,” Victor said with bewilderment.

“Well,” Elvi said, a smile curving her lips, “I sort of am.”

“Why, for Christ’s sake?” he asked with exasperation.

“Because now I don’t have to feel guilty about my biting her when I was turning in Mexico,” she pointed out and then added more seriously, “I’ve suffered horrible guilt about that over the years. Horrible, horrible guilt,” Elvi said with a sigh, and then shrugged. “But now I don’t have to. She’s bitten me back, so we’re even.”

“Women,” Victor muttered with disgust. “Your reasoning never fails to bewilder me.”

Elvi narrowed her eyes and muttered, “We’re no worse than you men. None of you make sense either, and you’re the worst, as changeable as the wind.”

“What?” Victor asked with surprise, but she’d already slapped the blood bag to her teeth and he had to wait while it drained.

“What do you mean I’m as changeable as the wind?” Victor asked again once the bag was empty and she’d removed it from her mouth.

“Nothing,” Elvi said, too tired to be bothered arguing with him at this point.

Sitting up, she removed the towel from her throat and got to her feet, then walked to the mirror to peer at her wound. She’d been woozy from blood loss when Victor had brought her in here, but aware enough that she understood what the men said as they kept Victor updated with what was going on. She knew the men had tied Mabel down, fed her several bags of blood, and given her the drugs Harper had fetched back. They’d kicked in quickly and Mabel’s screams had soon become nothing but a memory.

The throat wound Elvi had sustained had been almost healed by then, yet Victor kept pressing blood on her. Now she looked in the mirror to see it was completely closed and merely an angry, jagged scar on her throat that she knew would soon be gone.

Her gaze shifted to Victor as he appeared behind her in the mirror. His hands settled on her shoulders and he met her gaze in the reflection. “You should be in bed.”

Elvi felt her body respond to the huskiness in his voice and stood very still as his eyes slid over her reflection. The silver had flared in his eyes, burning away the blue of his irises and leaving them a hot, hungry current of electricity that she could almost feel caressing her body. She knew she should suggest he leave, or at least demand an explanation for his distant behavior that night, but her body had other ideas and simply leaned into him, melting to fit his form.

Elvi’s breath left her on a small sigh as his hands slid around her waist then up to close over her breasts in the red halter of her dress. She covered them with her own, squeezing them as they squeezed her, her own eyes flaring golden as her body automatically arched, pressing her breasts more firmly into the caress while pressing her bottom back against him.

When Victor bent his head to gently kiss her injured throat, her eyes drooped. She watched through slits as he gave up his caresses to undo the catch that held the halter in place. The deep red cloth immediately dropped away to hang down in front of the skirt, leaving her breasts on display.

“Beautiful,” Victor whispered, his gaze sliding over her in the mirror. Just the word breathed by her ear made tingles slide through Elvi and she stretched like a cat, one hand slipping behind her to seek his hip, the other rising to slide around his neck making her back arch further and lifting her erect nipples in a plea for his touch.

Victor obliged at once, his hands covering them both. Elvi moaned at the erotic feel as well as the sight of his touching her. She’d never thought of herself as an exhibitionist, but seeing their entwined reflection and watching him do what he was doing was having an incredible effect on her. When one of his hands drifted down over the skirt of the red dress to cup her between the legs, Elvi groaned and arched further.

Her weariness was suddenly forgotten, but there was still no chance they would be discussing anything. Conversation was the last thing on her mind now.

Elvi turned in his arms. The men had all changed when she had and Victor had chosen a casual blue cotton shirt with jeans. She promptly began to tug it out of his jeans, and then turned her attention to the buttons, undoing them blind as Victor bent his head to kiss her, obscuring her view.

She had half the buttons undone when his hands slid under her skirt to clasp her bottom. He only squeezed and kneaded at first, but the moment Elvi had his shirt undone and began pushing it off his shoulders, he lifted her by his hold on her bottom, urging her firmly against the erection straining his jeans.

Elvi stopped pushing at the shirt and instead clutched at it, sucking desperately at his tongue as they ground together. Easing her back to stand on her feet again, Victor quickly undid the zipper at the waist of her dress. She shivered against his chest as the light cloth slid down to pool around her feet, her panties quickly followed, leaving her standing in only a pair of red high heels.

Victor broke the kiss and raised his head, then stilled, and she glanced curiously over her shoulder to see what had his attention. She caught their reflection—the sight had his eyes swirling with silver, but all it did for Elvi was make her decide one of them was overdressed. Turning back, she finished pushing his shirt off, and then reached for the snap of his jeans to undo it. The zipper quickly followed, then Elvi knelt to drag his jeans down his legs, noting how strong and muscular they were and the fact that he’d gone commando.

When his erection popped free of the blue cloth, Elvi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to it as she continued pushing his jeans down. She gave up on the jeans, however, when she reached his ankles, and instead reached for his erection, and then leaned forward to draw him into her mouth and run her lips his length.

Victor immediately groaned and tangled his hand in her hair, but she was only peripherally aware of that, her mind was swirling with a sudden infusion of pleasure. As she caressed him, her mind filled with the sensations he was enjoying, her body reacting as if it were being pleasured. She didn’t know how it was happening, but she seemed to be experiencing what he was experiencing. It was an incredible sensation, letting her know exactly what felt best and how much pressure to apply, and she wondered vaguely if Victor had been experiencing this in the garage the other day. Was this how he’d known exactly what would drive her wild and when to stop and make love to her?

Just when she thought she would explode with the pleasure overwhelming her, Victor caught her by the upper arms and forced her back to her feet. He covered her mouth with his own, and drove his tongue inside as he caught her behind the thighs and lifted her to wrap her legs around his hips. Holding her in place, he kissed her thoroughly and continued to do so as he turned toward the bed, apparently sufficiently distracted to forget about the jeans still caught around his ankles. With the first step, they were both reminded of it when he suddenly lost his balance and started to fall forward.

Elvi cried out and squeezed her eyes closed, arms tightening desperately around him as she waited for a pain that never came. Releasing her, Victor reached out with his hands, stopping them before her back touched the floor. They both released a relieved breath, and then he peered down at her as she eased her hold on him and allowed herself to ease down to lie on the floor beneath him.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

Elvi started to nod, then froze, her head jerking toward the door at the sound of feet pounding up the hall.

“Victor! Elvi!”

“Stop!” Victor roared, kicking out with his feet to hold the door closed as the knob started to turn. When it stopped turning and silence erupted outside the door, Victor released a breath and lowered his forehead to hers briefly, his eyes closing.

“Is everything all right?” Harper asked, his voice muffled through the door. “We heard Elvi scream.”

Victor raised his head and peered at her as he said, “She’s fine. She…er…I was carrying her back to the bed and tripped.”

“Carrying her back?” Edward asked sharply. “What on earth was she doing up in the first place? She shouldn’t be up.”

“Yes, I agree thoroughly…and shall endeavor to keep her there,” Victor spoke solemnly, but there was sudden devilment in his eyes as his gaze met Elvi’s.

She started to smile in response, and then sucked in a breath as he shifted, his erection rubbing against her. The silver in Victor’s eyes burned hotter and he deliberately shifted once more, caressing her with his body. Elvi’s hands clutched at his shoulders as her own body pressed into the caress.

“Well, I should hope so,” Edward muttered. “The woman doesn’t know enough to give her body time to recuperate when necessary. She’s forever rushing about right after sustaining serious injuries. She needs a damned keeper.”

“I’ll keep her,” Victor breathed by her ear, rubbing against her again, his erection slick with her excitement.

“What was that?” Edward asked sharply. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said I’ll be her keeper,” Victor lied, his voice almost covering the sound of her moan as they ground together once more. Almost.

“Are you sure she’s all right?” Harper asked with concern. “I thought I heard her moan.”

“Are you all right, Elvi?” Victor murmured, pressing a kiss to the point below her ear as he shifted to the side and ran one hand down to slip between her legs.

“Yes,” Elvi groaned, arching her hips into the caress. She started to groan again, but Victor bent his head to catch the sound in his mouth as his fingers slid over her slick flesh.

“Are you sure?” Harper asked and she could hear the frown in his voice, knew he was concerned, but just wished he’d go away.

“I’m fine,” Elvi gasped the moment Victor lifted his head. The words were faint and breathy, her breathing reduced to short pants by what he was doing to her. In the hopes of getting rid of the annoying men outside the door, she added a breathless, “Really. You can stop worrying. I’m going to sleep now.”

“I sincerely hope not,” Victor breathed into her ear, and then lowered his head to catch one nipple lightly between his teeth and nip it gently.

“Elvi?” Harper asked.

“Yes?” Elvi breathed, sucking in her stomach with alarm as Victor released her nipple and suddenly began to slide down her body until his face was between her legs. She immediately tried to close them to keep him from doing what she suspected he was going to do, but Victor simply caught her legs and pressed them open again, exposing the core of her to his view.

“Elvi?” Harper repeated and she realized there had been no voice behind her first response.

“Yes,” Elvi tried again and this time it came out a near squeal as Victor chose that moment to rasp his tongue over her quivering flesh. Trying for a more normal voice, she panted, “What is it?”

There was an uncertain pause from outside the door and Elvi lifted her head to peer down at Victor, then caught at his hair and tugged, hissing, “Stop that.”

At first, she thought he would obey the half-plea, half-command. He rose up slightly between her legs, but merely grinned at Elvi evilly and slid a finger into her. Elvi bucked like a wild horse, her body uncaring that there were men outside the door. Then his mouth found her again and Elvi pressed a hand to her own mouth to stifle a whimper. She closed her eyes as he set to work in earnest.

He was hitting just the right spots with just the right pressure so that her head began to twist frantically back and forth.

Victor must be experiencing the same thing, Elvi thought suddenly, amazed at what he was doing to her. There was no way he could—

“You won’t forget to call Brunswick in the morning? About the blood?” Harper finally asked, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her eyes abruptly open.

Elvi had actually forgotten the bloody men were outside the door. How could she forget that? Easy, she realized as Victor caressed her more determinedly.

“Yes!” Elvi cried, hips thrusting. Lights were starting to dance on the periphery of her eyes and she felt ready to explode, but this time Victor was showing no mercy.

“You will?” Harper asked with confusion.

Elvi blinked, wondering what the man was nattering on about. She’d quite forgotten the question. She hadn’t been talking to him anyway. Had she talked? She might have said something. What had it been? She thought it might have been yes or something of that ilk. Since that was apparently the wrong answer, she tried, “No!”

“Oh, good, thanks,” Harper murmured. “I’m off to bed, then. Alessandro has already retired, but Edward is going to stay up with DJ for a while, to help watch over Mabel. Just shout if you need anything.”

Elvi didn’t bother to respond, she hadn’t really heard anything he was saying, or perhaps it was more correct to say she’d heard it but hadn’t comprehended any of it. Her brain didn’t have the capacity at the moment when it was being hit by wave after growing wave of pleasure from what Victor was doing to her. The man was turning her into a mass of raw sensation and she was sure she was going to explode.

The moment footsteps outside the door announced that the men were leaving Victor reared up and scooped her into his arms. Apparently he’d managed to kick his jeans off before doing so because this time they made it to the bed without falling.

Once there he simply turned his back to it and dropped onto the bed with her in his arms. Elvi landed on his chest with a gasp, then quickly took advantage of their position and sat up before he could try to shift her beneath him. She wasn’t having anymore torture. She knew what she wanted and would have it. Victor reached for her, but Elvi scrambled backward and shifted to straddle his hips, her hand finding his erection and guiding him into her as she came to rest on his hips.

They both went still, their gazes meeting as he filled her, then Victor suddenly sat up, catching her by the back of the head and drawing her forward to meet him as his mouth covered hers.

Elvi moaned and caught one arm around his shoulders to keep her balance. Her other hand slid into his hair to run over his scalp as his tongue filled her as well. He was in and around her, enveloping her and it still wasn’t enough. She couldn’t move in this position and she so wanted to move. Elvi moaned a plea into his mouth, her hips shifting the slight bit they could in frustration, then Victor twisted them both on the bed, laying her on her back and coming down on top.

Elvi sighed into his mouth as his body covered hers, and then gasped as he withdrew, only to surge back in. As he withdrew and plunged forward again, she dug her nails in, clawing at his back and urging him on, but then cried out in protest when Victor caught her wrists and lifted them over her head, holding them there. He immediately covered her mouth again, thrusting his tongue between her lips as his body surged forward.

Elvi struggled to free her hands for a moment, then gave it up and concentrated on using her body to meet his thrusts as the pleasure swirling in her brain became a tornado, wiping out every other thought. It was only one more thrust before the pleasure exploded between them. Elvi tore her mouth from his and bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming out and drawing the others again, then allowed herself to drop into the darkness that waited beyond the fire they’d created.

Elvi woke several times over the next few hours, finding herself wrapped in Victor’s arms all but once. She rose up sleepily in the bed that time, and peered around but didn’t see him. Thinking he’d gone to his own room, she dropped back to sleep with a disappointed sigh, only to find him there again when next she woke. The last time she opened her eyes it was after nine in the morning. Recalling she was supposed to phone Teddy, she eased carefully out of Victor’s embrace and slipped from the bed. A quick shower later, she dressed and crept from her room so as not to disturb Victor.

The house was silent as she made her way up the hall. Elvi paused at Mabel’s room and eased the door carefully open. When she saw Mabel sleeping peacefully and both Edward and DJ asleep in their chairs, she eased the door closed and made her way downstairs. She didn’t think Mabel’s turning was over yet, but it appeared the worst of it was done.

In the kitchen, Elvi placed her call to Teddy. He was understandably surprised to hear they already needed more blood. He and Mabel had laid in a lot before the men arrived. It was only then that Elvi realized she hadn’t informed him of the attacks on Victor and her resulting injury. She’d meant to call him, but found she was uncomfortable around him since the day she’d learned he cared for her. He’d been so short with her since then that it had been easy to allow the pie making to distract her.

She didn’t tell him now, thinking it better to tell him in person, and was glad she hadn’t after his reaction to the news of Mabel’s turning. Teddy was cursing up a storm as he hung up. He wasn’t pleased.

Making a face as she hung up, Elvi moved to turn on the stove to allow it to heat, and then grabbed a tray from the cupboard over the refrigerator and headed downstairs to see how many pies left in the cold room needed baking. She wasn’t surprised to find that there were still fifteen pies on the shelf. DJ had given blood to Mabel an hour after they’d left last night and there was no way he would have been baking pies while Mabel thrashed and screamed upstairs.

Setting three pies on the tray, Elvi carried them back up to the kitchen and set them on the counter. Leaving them there for the moment, she retrieved one of the few bags of blood remaining in the fridge, slapped it to her teeth, and moved to peer out the window while she waited for it to drain. Her gaze slid over the garden with longing as she fed. Elvi had never got to work on it as she’d hoped. She hadn’t even made it past the deck in sunlight yet. Perhaps she could do some work while the pies were baking.

Turning away, she tossed the empty bag in the garbage, then moved into the cupboard room and retrieved her hat and the long-sleeved shirt she’d hung there the other day. She donned both, then found the suntan lotion and quickly slathered some on. Satisfied that she’d taken the necessary precautions, Elvi then put the pies in the oven and set the timer before grabbing her gloves and slipping outside.

A smile curled Elvi’s lips as she started across the deck. Birds were singing and flapping around in the birdbath, butterflies were dancing among the flowers, and there was a squirrel digging in the garden, no doubt in search of a walnut it had buried there.

“Good morning, Elvi!”

Pausing at the edge of the deck, she glanced over and smiled at Mike Knight. The man was dressed in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, busily running a fine net over the surface of his pool to remove the leaves that had fallen during the night.

“Good morning, Mike. Not working today?”

He shook his head. “My day off. I arranged the schedule that way so I could help out at the fair.”

Elvi nodded. As fire department chief he had that freedom and often took advantage of it. Mike was as involved in local charities as she had been before her turning.

“How are the pies coming?” Mike asked. “Karen said you’d forgotten all about them.”

“Yes, thank goodness she reminded me. I had forgotten,” she admitted. “They’re mostly done, though. I’m just baking the last of them now, but I thought I’d come out and see how much work there is to do in the gardens.”

“We’ll see you out here more often, then.” Mike smiled. “Good. We’ve missed our chats over the fence.”

“So have I,” Elvi said solemnly, and it was true. That was one of many things she’d missed over the last five years.

“Do you want some help with the garden?” Mike asked, pausing in his scooping to peer at her. “I’d be happy to help get it back in shape. Karen probably would too. In fact, I’ve had to hold her back from doing so before now. She was so upset to see all your lovely work go to seed these last five years.”

Elvi chuckled at the claim, not doubting it for a moment. Karen and Mike kept a beautiful home and yard and could always be found outside mowing, raking, or working in the garden. Their yard was never less than impeccable and she knew the house wasn’t either. It must have driven the poor woman mad to see Elvi’s own garden slowly go to ruin. Mabel had hired Owen to mow the lawn and such, but had let the garden go.

“No, that’s okay,” she said as Mike moved to hang up his net. “I’m just looking today to see how bad it is. I’m thinking I might hire a landscaper to get it back in shape if there’s too much work. Actually, I might have to have them redo it so that there’s less maintenance. I can come out now, but it’s better if I’m not out too much I guess. It means I have to have more blood.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Mike said, his expression concerned.

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” Elvi murmured and turned to head toward the stairs leading down into the yard.

“Elvi?” Mike called, bringing her to a halt. When she turned back, he hesitated, and then asked, “Are you happier?”

She blinked in confusion at the question. “Happier?”

“Yes.” Mike moved toward the fence. “Mabel once said that you wished you’d never gone to Mexico and never turned into a…er…vampire. She said you were miserable.”

“Yes, I did say that. Many times,” Elvi admitted quietly, and it had been how she’d felt then. But then she’d thought she couldn’t eat, had slept in a coffin, and avoided daylight like the plague. Things had gotten much better since the arrival of Victor and the others in her life. She supposed that was what everyone was hoping for and why the men had been invited.

“I’m sorry.”

Elvi tore herself from her thoughts and peered at him with surprise. “What for?”

“For helping to pressure you into going to Mexico when you didn’t want to,” he explained. “The lot of us have felt horrible about it ever since Mabel explained what had happened at the town meeting Teddy called when you guys got back. We never would have pressured you so if we’d known—”

“Don’t be silly, Mike. I know that,” Elvi interrupted. She’d known for years that the reason everyone had been so accepting of her new status was because many of them had felt bad for talking her into taking that trip when she hadn’t wanted to. Elvi had intended to cancel the trip to Mexico after the accident, but everyone from Teddy, Mabel, the Knights…even Dawn, the grocery store clerk, had all insisted she should go.

“We were hoping that Mabel’s plan with the single’s ad would help make things better.”

Elvi smiled faintly and opened her mouth to tell him it had, then paused and glanced toward the driveway as the sound of a car engine caught her ear.

“Oh, Teddy’s here,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Giving him a wave, Elvi moved to the end of the deck and descended the stairs to greet Teddy as he got out of the car and retrieved a cooler from the trunk.

“How is she?” Teddy asked grimly as he stomped up the sidewalk toward her.

“She was sleeping when I checked on her,” Elvi said, hurrying ahead of him to open the door. Teddy carried the cooler inside, slammed it on the counter, and whirled to face her.

“How could you let this happen? After all she’s done for you?” he asked furiously.

“I didn’t let anything happen,” Elvi said quickly. “I wasn’t even here. DJ turned her and—”

“Well, you should have been here,” he interrupted with a snarl. “After the way she’s looked after you for five years, doing all those things you couldn’t anymore, you could have spent a little time looking after her for a change.” He gave a snort of disgust. “But I suppose you couldn’t tear yourself away from that damned Argeneau character long enough to be bothered.”

“I—” Elvi began, only to be interrupted as Teddy’s eyes narrowed.

“DJ did this to her?” he asked suddenly, apparently that part of the conversation just having made it through his anger. Mouth tightening, he snarled, “I’ll stake him out like—”

“You will not!” Elvi interrupted sharply. “Mabel loves him, and he was only doing what she asked him to do.”

“We’ll see about that. I’m checking on her. Alone,” he announced in a tone of voice that suggested she not argue.

Elvi watched him head determinedly upstairs, then shook her head and turned to head right back outside. She wasn’t interfering. DJ could handle him. If he still wanted to yell at her after that, then he could just come find her, she thought furiously as she crossed the deck to the yard.

Elvi couldn’t believe the man had turned on her like that, blaming her for Mabel’s turning as if it were her fault. As if she’d been a bad friend and let it happen. The truth was if she’d known Mabel wanted it, Elvi would have stood by her decision. And Teddy had no right to stand in judgment, she thought as she stomped around the garden glaring at the damage done by time. That was all she’d intended to do today, but Elvi was so wound up and agitated by her run-in with Teddy that she decided she needed some physical exertion to help get rid of it.

Crossing to the shed at the back of the yard, she dragged the door open, and stepped inside. All her gardening tools were still there; hanging from their hooks and racks, in perfect shape, but covered with a fine coat of dust.

Muttering under her breath, Elvi walked along the implements, trying to decide what she’d need. She wanted to do something that took a lot of hitting or something. Something like cutting wood would be good, she thought. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any wood to cut. They bought it all corded and split.

Muttering about the stupidity of men, Elvi picked up the shovel, thinking that slamming it in the ground a couple hundred times and jumping up and down on it to dig it into the earth would be good.

She’d started back toward the door when it suddenly slammed shut. Pausing, she blinked in the darkness. There was no light in the shed, no window even to allow natural light in, not even enough light for her eyes to use. Something she’d found annoying on other occasions, but which was almost scary now. It had been years since she’d been in the shed and where—at one time—she would have known exactly where everything was and been able to move through it easily enough, now she couldn’t and there were several dangerous items in the shed. There were sharp items everywhere; on the floor to trip over and fall on…against the wall for her to walk into. Elvi wasn’t at all sure she could find the door without skewering herself.

She should have leaned something against the door to keep it open before entering, Elvi realized, and berated herself briefly for not thinking of that before the wind had blown the door closed. And then she paused to sniff the air as something wafted past her nose.

Was that smoke? Elvi sniffed more deeply, frowning when she got a good nose full of the scent. It was smoke.

Aware of creeping light in the back corner, she turned slowly and stared at the flames licking their way up the back wall.

“Well, hell,” Elvi muttered.

Eighteen

The sound of shouting made Victor scowl as he opened Elvi’s bedroom door. DJ and Teddy Brunswick’s arguing had woken him earlier and he’d crawled out of bed to break it up. It had taken several minutes for him to convince Brunswick that Mabel was fine and DJ hadn’t done anything she hadn’t wished. By the time the officer had finally left, Victor had been wide awake. Knowing it would be useless to go back to bed, he’d headed off to take a shower. Now he was dressed and ready to face the day, but the shouting had started up again.

Victor’s immediate reaction was irritation, but that turned into surprise and then concern as he stepped into the hall and realized it wasn’t DJ and a returned Teddy doing the yelling, but Harper. Just then, the German came crashing down the stairs from the third floor, and charged by shouting about something being on fire in the backyard.

Victor stared after the man with amazement…until his brain digested what the man was yelling about.

Something on fire? In the backyard?

“Where’s Elvi?!” Victor roared with sudden panic, and immediately chased after Harper. He was positive that if there was trouble, that was where he’d find Elvi.

He raced out onto the deck, pausing at the sight of the small shed at the back of the yard on fire. One whole side was a wall of flames. He heard a muffled shout and several thuds and felt his blood run cold. Someone was inside the burning shack. It didn’t take two guesses to know who it must be.

Not bothering with the stairs, Victor left Harper to wrestle with the garden hose and charged, leaping up and over the railing that ran around the deck. He was at the shed door in barely more than a heartbeat. There was a shovel jammed against the handle, blocking it closed. Victor kicked it aside with his foot even as he reached for the handle.

He pulled the door open and started to step in, only to grunt and stumble back as a smoking bundle crashed into his chest. It appeared Elvi had decided to rush the door just as he opened it. Unprepared, Victor lurched several steps backward, his arms closing around her even as he did. They both cried out as he crashed into the birdbath and sent it tumbling as they crashed to the ground.

Victor grunted as his back slammed into the dirt, cursed in pain as Elvi came down, her knee landing bull’s-eye on his groin, then simply whimpered like a baby when she realized what had happened and quickly slid off him, only to have the still flipping birdbath finish its own fall by allowing the base to take her place, crushing his testicles.

“Victor?” Elvi’s anxious voice sounded by his ear. “Are you all right?”

Stars exploding behind his eyes and body racked with pain that radiated out from his groin, Victor lay completely still and merely groaned, amazed that he was able to do so. He followed that with a moan when water began to pour over him.

“No, Harper!” Elvi cried by his ear. “You have to set it to jet! It isn’t reaching the shed! You’re getting us! Set it to jet!”

“What the hell happened here?”

Victor recognized Teddy Brunswick’s voice, but didn’t bother to open his eyes or look around. He just lay where he was, waiting for his body to stop protesting the abuse it had received.

“Victor?” DJ’s voice sounded anxious as it neared. “Are you all right?”

“What happened?” Edward asked.

“Was anyone hurt?” Alessandro’s question almost had Victor opening his eyes in disbelief, but it seemed like too much effort, so he stayed as he was.

“I’ve got it! Out of the way!” That voice belonged to Mike Knight, the fire chief and Elvi’s neighbor. Recognizing it, Victor didn’t immediately open his eyes. It wasn’t until he heard the hissing sound that followed the man’s authoritative shout that Victor popped his eyes open to see Elvi’s mortal neighbor was the only one who had been sensible enough to bring a fire extinguisher to the party.

A disappointed sigh to his side drew Victor’s gaze to Harper to see the immortal standing, shoulders slumped, the dripping garden hose in his hands. The hose itself was a tangled mass straggling between the deck and where he stood. It seemed in his rush to be of assistance, he’d somehow tangled up the hose and hadn’t been able to reach the back of the yard with the spray.

That explained the small shower he’d got, Victor supposed.

A rustle at his side drew his gaze to Elvi as she sat up beside him to watch Mike finish putting out the fire. Her face was streaked with soot, and her hat and clothing a bit singed, but she appeared all right otherwise. However, he’d already expected as much. Her voice had been strong both times she’d spoken since their crash landing.

His gaze shifted to the birdbath still lying on top of him and Victor grimaced. It had done some real damage. If he were mortal, there would be some question as to whether he would ever have more children. Fortunately, he wasn’t mortal. Victor reached down and pushed the birdbath off.

Elvi immediately turned to peer at him. Managing a worried smile, she leaned over and placed one hand on his cheek as she asked, “How are you? Are you all right? I think you got the wind knocked out of you.”

Before Victor could respond, Teddy appeared behind her, his wrinkled face grim as he peered down at them. “What happened?”

“What are you dong here?” Victor asked instead of answering. “You left a good fifteen minutes ago.”

Brunswick’s eyebrows rose at the question, but he answered calmly enough. “I was almost back to the station when I realized I left the blood bank cooler here. So I turned back and saw the smoke about two blocks away. I hit the siren, radioed the fire department, put my foot down and pulled up just in time to see you and Elvi crash over the birdbath.”

Victor narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the man’s thoughts, but relaxed when he found Brunswick was telling the truth. He wasn’t the mortal who had set the fire. That left—

“It’s out,” Mike Knight announced, approaching the small group gathered around Victor and Elvi. “It’s still hot, though. I’ll have the men give her a spray down when they get here just to be sure she doesn’t start back up. There they are now,” he added, glancing toward the driveway as a red fire truck pulled in, siren blaring.

Victor didn’t glance toward the driveway. His attention was now focused on Mike’s thoughts, sifting through his memories of the last few minutes to find that Elvi’s neighbor had been inside changing his clothes after spilling weed spray on himself when his wife had yelled from the kitchen that Elvi’s shed was on fire. The fire chief had tugged on a T-shirt as he ran from the room, stopping only to grab the fire extinguisher before running around the two fenced properties to get to the backyard and the burning shed. He hadn’t set the fire either.

Victor relaxed back where he lay, frowning over who it could have been, but stilled when he saw the way Elvi was eyeing him.

“Why don’t you go find Father O’Flaherty and read his mind too?” she asked sarcastically, obviously guessing what he’d been doing. “The church is just up the street.”

When Vincent’s eyes sharpened with interest at this news, she threw her hands up with disgust and hissed, “It was an accident.”

“It wasn’t a damned accident,” Victor snapped.

“Of course it was,” she insisted. “No one in Port Henry would want to hurt me.”

“She’s right, son,” Brunswick informed him. “Everyone here loves Elvi.”

“See?” Elvi said with a smile for Teddy for backing her up.

Victor merely scowled and turned his gaze to the fire chief. “Knight?”

“Well, I’m sure no one would want to hurt Elvi,” he agreed, and then shifted uncomfortably. “But I smelled gasoline while I was putting it out.”

“Gasoline?” Elvi asked with dismay. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed the pungent scent, but then she’d probably been a bit distracted with trying to get out, he acknowledged.

“I’m afraid so, Elvi,” Mike said, and then muttered that he had to speak to his men and hurried toward the driveway as several uniformed firefighters jumped from their trucks and began to unravel their hoses.

“Now will you admit that someone is out to get you?” Victor asked wearily.

“But no one would want to hurt me,” Elvi protested. “It had to be an accident.”

Victor’s eyes popped back open. Incensed by her continued denial, he roared, “Goddammit woman! Someone doesn’t jam a shovel against the shed door to lock you in, pour gasoline down the side wall, and strike a match by accident. Someone is trying to kill you.”

Elvi’s eyes widened at the explanation for why she hadn’t been able to open the door, but before she could say anything, he went on, “And you can stop glaring at me for reading your friends. Of course I suspect them. It’s a mortal attacking you.”

Elvi’s mouth tightened. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do,” he snarled. “Only a mortal would try to kill you by shooting an arrow through your back. And, only an idiot mortal could fail at killing someone who was so eager to throw herself into danger.”

Elvi stiffened. “Some of my best friends are mortals, Victor, and they are not idiots. Besides, coming out to work in the garden is hardly throwing myself into danger.”

“The hell it isn’t!” he snapped, and then added, “You shouldn’t have been out here in the first place. You should have been in bed. Mabel nearly took your head off last night. You had a terrible wound and lost a lot of blood. And you took an arrow in the back not long before that! You shouldn’t be doing anything but recuperating. But are you? No, not Elvi Black. You have to hop out of bed and rush out here and try to get yourself killed again!”

“Now just a cotton pickin’ minute here.” Brunswick glanced from Victor to Elvi and back before settling on Elvi as he asked, “Mabel ripped your throat out? Someone shot you in the back? What the hell has been going on around here, Ellen Stone?”

“Ellen Stone?” Harper echoed with confusion.

“It’s her real name,” DJ explained, obviously having learned this from Mabel. “She was born Ellen Black, took her husband’s name Stone when they married, then reverted to her maiden name after the turning.”

“Then why does everyone call her Elvi?” Edward asked.

“I’m asking the questions right now,” Brunswick barked, and then raised an eyebrow at Elvi. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me what was going on? I’m the police captain here. You should have told me.”

“She should have stayed in bed where she was safe,” Victor snapped as Mike rejoined them.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Victor, Ellen,” Edward said, emphasizing the name. “You have a dreadful tendency to get yourself into trouble. I really think the best place for you is indoors until we men solve this matter.”

“There is no we,” Brunswick said coldly. “I’m the cop. This is my town. You’re just visitors here. I’ll solve it…Now that I know it’s happening,” he added with another glare at Elvi.

“If you’d at least told me what was happening, Elvi, I could have kept an eye out for anyone skulking around,” Mike added.

Elvi peered at the angry male faces surrounding her for a moment and then stood up and pushed her way through them, muttering, “I have some pies in the oven I need to check on.”

“Well done, gentlemen,” Harper murmured as they watched her make her way into the house, her posture defeated. “Attacking the victim is always very effective.”

Victor glanced at the German sharply, and then let his head drop back to the ground with a sigh as he realized that was exactly what he’d done. Worse yet, he hadn’t just attacked her, he’d blamed her. He hadn’t meant to, but the whole thing had terrified the hell out of him. When he’d realized that Elvi was trapped in the burning shed it had been Marion all over again. Victor hadn’t been there to witness his first wife’s death, but he’d heard about it and had nightmares ever since. He couldn’t lose Elvi to fire too. He couldn’t lose her at all. She had become the most important thing in his life. He wouldn’t lose her now.

“Well, hell!” Brunswick ran an agitated hand through his thinning hair. “I suppose we owe her an apology.”

“I’d say so,” Harper agreed.

“Well, come on then, Argeneau,” he said, turning away. “We may as well get it over with before she gets herself upset enough to start crying or some other female thing. I hate a crying woman. Elvi isn’t usually like that, but she’s been through a lot lately and…” Brunswick paused and turned back as he realized no one had followed him. Victor still lay on the ground and the rest of the men were staring at him silently.

“What is it? Can’t you get up?” Brunswick returned to join the circle of men.

“Not at the moment, no,” Victor admitted calmly.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He dropped to his haunches at his side. “Where are you hurt? Let me have a look.”

“I don’t think so,” Victor said dryly.

“I think the birdbath, she landed on his…” Alessandro glanced to Harper and Edward for help. “How you say? Bowls?”

“The birdbath landed on his groin,” Edward said with exasperation.

“Oh.” Brunswick pulled back, obviously no more willing to look at the wound than Victor was to have him look.

“Si.” Alessandro nodded. “I hear something pop when she hit. I think he be very sorely hurt.”

“Thank you, Alessandro,” Victor said dryly.

“What do we do?” Mike Knight asked.

“We wait,” Harper said with a shrug. “It will heal itself. It just takes time. He probably won’t feel much like moving until it does, though.”

“And he’ll need to feed,” Edward murmured.

“It’s a good thing I brought more blood, then,” Brunswick commented.

The immortals merely exchanged glances and then turned to peer toward the firemen. They had finished spraying down the shed and were now putting away their equipment.

“Mike,” Harper said suddenly. “I think you should take Teddy over to examine the shed for evidence.”

Mike glanced at him with surprise. “I…Yes,” he said suddenly, his face going slack. Turning he walked to the shed and stood facing it. When Harper then turned his gaze on Brunswick, the police captain followed. The two men stood silent and still, staring at the burnt shed in silence.

“I shall fetch your dinner,” Edward said, turning to head for the firemen.

“I’ll help.” Alessandro hurried after him.

“Thanks,” Victor breathed, closing his eyes.

Elvi scowled out her sunroom window at the men still congregated in her backyard. She’d come inside, switched the cooked pies in the oven for three uncooked ones, then come upstairs to shower. A glance out the bathroom window while she waited for the water temperature to warm up had shown Teddy and Mike standing staring at the shed while the rest of the men, including the firemen, stood in a circle around Victor. One of the firemen had been kneeling beside him, checking him over, Elvi supposed.

She’d actually worried for an instant that he’d been more seriously injured than she’d realized, but had refused to go find out just to get yelled at again. Instead, she’d got into the shower to wash away the smoke and soot, telling herself he was fine.

But he was still out there, lying on the ground. Though, Elvi noted, the firemen were now gone and Teddy and Mike had rejoined the smaller circle of men. As she watched, Victor sat up slowly, and then accepted the hand DJ held out to help him rise. He got cautiously to his feet, and stayed bent over for a minute, but she didn’t see blood anywhere to suggest he’d had anything but the wind knocked out of him as she’d first supposed.

Sighing, she turned away from the window and passed through her room to the hall. Mabel had been left alone a long time. She should check to be sure she was all right.

Mabel was in the process of trying to get up when Elvi entered her room.

“No, no, no,” she said at once, rushing forward. “You shouldn’t get up.”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Mabel announced with exasperation, waving her away as she stood.

“I’ll help y—” Elvi froze as Mabel straightened and she got a good look at her. She’d only seen Mabel twice since the turning started. When they’d first arrived back from the Night Club, and then this morning on her way downstairs. Last night, Mabel had been thrashing so violently, Elvi hadn’t paid attention to anything but helping to keep her from hurting herself, then of course, she’d been bitten. This morning, she’d merely peered in from the door and Mabel had been sleeping with her head turned away, the sheets tangled around her body and partially concealing her head.

She wasn’t concealed now and Elvi just stood and gaped at the change. Mabel didn’t look a day over twenty-two. Her face was peaches-and-cream perfection, her eyes were pure gold, her figure slender and lithe, and her hair a halo of shiny, glossy golden waves around her face.

Elvi shook her head in wonder. Mabel didn’t look like she had when she was younger, she looked better. Unfortunately, the blonde had suffered a terrible case of acne as a teen and her complexion had forever after been pockmarked because of it. She’d also been too thin and flat-chested until she hit her mid-forties when she’d taken on a good forty pounds. Mabel was neither too thin now, nor overweight. The turning had removed at least twenty pounds, redistributing what it left behind to give her a healthy, curvy shape. She was gorgeous and had the added confidence of age to add to that beauty. It made Elvi wonder what the woman’s life might have been like had she looked like this back then.

“You look almost as poleaxed as Teddy was when he saw me. Is it that bad?” Mabel asked warily, noting her expression.

Elvi managed to close her mouth, but then she just shook her head, took her by the arm, and led her over to stand in front of the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Mabel breathed, staring at her reflection with stunned golden eyes.

Elvi grinned at her flummoxed expression, and then laughed as Mabel began to poke herself in various places as if to see if her new body was real. When she then opened her mouth and began to prod around in search of her canines, Elvi moved to the refrigerator to fetch a bag of blood. All she had to do was carry it back to her. The moment Mabel spotted the blood, her teeth began to shift and Mabel covered her mouth with dismay then whirled back to the mirror to look at them.

“Come on,” Elvi said after letting her examine herself for a few more minutes. “You should get back in bed and feed.”

“I don’t want to get back in bed,” Mabel said impatiently, but she did take the bag of blood. “Do I just…”

“Just open your mouth and pop it to your teeth,” Elvi instructed, then watched her do it and smiled. “See? Easy. Now, at least sit on the bed while you feed.”

Mabel followed reluctantly and sat on the bed as Elvi retrieved several more bags of blood from the refrigerator. The small mini fridge had originally been in DJ and Victor’s room, but the men had moved it over last night.

While Mabel fed, Elvi regaled her with all that had happened since she and the men had left the house the day before. She told her about their trip to the club and Victor’s coldness, then arriving back to find DJ in a state and her mid-turn.

Mabel flushed guiltily and interrupted her then to admit she remembered biting her the night before. When she started to apologize for it, Elvi waved it away.

“I bit you in Mexico. We’re even,” she said lightly, and then went on to tell her about Victor’s sudden about-face last night, and, finally, the incident in the garden shed.

Mabel listened with eyes that grew wider as Elvi told her how both Teddy and Victor and even Edward had pretty much blamed her for nearly getting killed, as if it were her fault.

“Men!” Mabel snorted with disgust as she removed the last bag, then stood and headed for the bathroom door, saying, “Now, I really have to pee.”

Chuckling, Elvi stood and followed to wait outside the door in case she suddenly became weak or passed out, but when the sound of the toilet flushing was followed by the shower turning on, she reached for the doorknob.

“Mabel, I don’t think you ought to shower yet. What if you pass out or something?” she asked, opening the door.

“I won’t. I feel fine,” Mabel assured her, retrieving a towel and washcloth from the cupboard. “Besides, it’s been almost twenty-four hours. You were up and around after twenty-four hours.”

Elvi glanced at her wristwatch, startled to see that it was late-afternoon. She’d been up here for quite a while.

“What’s wrong?” Mabel asked, catching her expression.

Elvi grimaced. “I’m just wondering what the men are doing.”

“Who cares?” Mabel said with a snort.

“I do,” Elvi admitted. “And you should too. Why hasn’t DJ come up to check on you?”

“He did,” Mabel announced. “He opened the door and stuck his head in while you were telling me about the Night Club. When he saw I was sitting up in bed, fine, and you were with me, he blew me a kiss and backed out.”

“Oh,” Elvi murmured, but began worrying her lip. DJ had been hanging over Mabel ever since he got to Port Henry, more so since the turning, and now he was suddenly downstairs with the men…. It made her suspect that they were up to something.

She pondered what that could be while Mabel showered, and then stiffened where she leaned against the bathroom counter when there was a tap on the bedroom door.

Mabel stuck her head out of the shower to ask with a frown, “Was that the door?”

Elvi nodded.

“DJ wouldn’t knock,” Mabel said the obvious.

Nodding again, Elvi stared out at the bedroom door as if it were a snake, only relaxing when a second knock came, followed by a female voice calling, “Hello?”

“Karen,” she said with relief. “I’ll get it. Shout if you have a problem.”

“I’m done, I’m getting out,” Mabel announced and ducked back into the shower. Elvi heard the water shut off as she left the room.

“There you are,” Karen smiled when Elvi opened the door, and then asked anxiously, “I didn’t wake Mabel, did I? DJ said she was awake and you two were talking when he last checked, so I thought it would be okay to come up.”

“Of course it’s okay, and no you didn’t wake Mabel,” Elvi assured her, stepping aside to let her in. “She’s in the shower.”

“Oh, good. She’s feeling better, then, is she?” Karen asked as she entered.

Elvi nodded and closed the door. “Much.”

“Well, I came looking for Mike when he didn’t come back after the fire and found the men in your dining room having a powwow. They say you’ve been having some trouble?”

“A little,” Elvi admitted with a grimace. “But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Oh,” Karen hesitated, and then told her, “well, the men said you and Mabel weren’t going to the fair tonight so I thought I’d come up and see if you wanted me to take the pies and—”

“They said what?” Elvi asked sharply.

Eyes wide at Elvi’s tone of voice, Karen said uncertainly, “You aren’t going to the fair?”

“Who said that? Victor?” she asked, her temper rearing its head.

“Well, actually, I think it was Teddy who said it first, but they all seemed to be in agreement.”

“Teddy’s still here too?” she asked with surprise.

“Yes. He and Mike have been here since the fire.”

Elvi let her breath out slowly. She’d known they were up to something.

“I can take the pies for you,” Karen repeated. “I mean, if you’re in danger, maybe it is best if you stay here.”

Elvi frowned. “I forgot about the pies. I still have another dozen to bake I think.”

Karen shook her head. “The men did them. They’re all done and the last three are cooling.”

“Oh.” Elvi stared at the wall, wondering how men could be so wonderful and so annoying at the same time. On the one hand, they’d helped make the pies, and now helped bake them, which was really sweet, but on the other hand, they were plotting to keep her from taking them to the fair to be sold.

“So I’ll take the pies for you?”

“No, that’s okay,” Elvi said. “I’ll take them.”

Karen bit her lip, and then admitted, “I don’t think they’re going to let you out of the house, Elvi. They were plotting how to keep you here when I started upstairs.”

“Oh, they were, were they?” Mabel said and both women turned to find her standing in the bathroom door, still damp from her shower and wrapped in a bath towel. She’d obviously heard everything.

“Mabel?” Karen gasped, staring at her with amazement. “You—You—”

“Not bad for an old broad, huh?” Mabel asked with amusement when Karen couldn’t seem to find the words she was looking for.

Karen sank to sit on the side of the bed and just stared.

“I gather the men didn’t mention that Mabel had turned?” Elvi asked gently.

Karen just shook her head, apparently dumbstruck.

Elvi patted her shoulder, and then glanced to Mabel as the woman crossed the room with determined strides.

“So the men are plotting, are they?” Mabel muttered as she moved to her closet and began to rifle through her clothes. “Well, they’re about to have a fight on their hands. Mabel Allen and Ellen Stone do not lie down for anyone to step on. We—” She paused suddenly, alarm on her face, and then cried, “I don’t have a thing that will fit me anymore!”

“I have clothes you can wear,” Elvi said quickly, and then added, “And I have a plan too; one that doesn’t include the need for confrontation.”

“No confrontation?” Mabel asked, sounding almost disappointed. She always had been a fighter.

“Mabel, there are more of them and they’re bigger than us,” Elvi pointed out. “In a confrontation, they’d win. Brains are better here.”

“Brains.” Mabel nodded. “We’ve got them beat already, then.”

Elvi smiled and turned toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go find you something to wear. You too, Karen. We’re definitely going to need your help.”

“This isn’t going to get me into trouble, is it?” Karen asked as she stood to follow.

“Trouble?” Elvi asked with surprise. “No, of course not. We’re just going to the fair. It’s not like we’re going to do something illegal.”

Nineteen

“I’m sure they didn’t steal your car, Teddy. Elvi said they weren’t going to do anything illegal.”

Victor exchanged a glance with DJ as Karen Knight tried to soothe the outraged police captain. Teddy Brunswick hadn’t taken it at all well when—after DJ had returned from checking on Mabel to announce that the women were gone—they’d all rushed out to the driveway to find his patrol car missing. He’d cursed a blue streak as they’d piled into Victor and Harper’s cars and raced to the park where the fair was being held.

Karen had the unfortunate luck of returning to her car in the parking lot for another box of pies as they pulled in. Spotting her, Teddy had leapt out of Victor’s car and charged over, practically foaming at the mouth.

“They were just going to come to the fair,” Karen went on. “The plan was they were going to sneak out through Elvi’s sunroom and ride over in my car, but there wasn’t enough room, with all the pies in it. I wasn’t sure what to do, but they said to go ahead, they’d find another way to get here.”

“And then they stole my car,” Teddy Brunswick said furiously.

“I’m sure they didn’t. Elvi said they wouldn’t do anything illegal,” Karen repeated anxiously.

“Well, then she lied,” Teddy snapped.

“That’s kind of harsh, Teddy,” Mike said with a frown, slipping a supportive arm around his wife. “Elvi and Mabel aren’t the sort to lie and steal. They probably just borrowed it. They would have brought it back after the fair.”

Seeing that Brunswick was winding up for another rant, Victor interceded. “Where are they now, Karen? I presume they got here, all right? The patrol car is here.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She smiled at him with relief, apparently grateful to turn away from Teddy. “They’re manning the booth.”

“What booth?” DJ asked fretfully. “Mabel shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Mabel was supposed to man the pie booth, but there was so much demand at Elvi’s booth, she ended up helping her over there and I took over the pie booth,” Karen explained. “They’re really racking it up too, I can tell you.”

“What and where is Elvi’s booth?” Victor asked patiently.

“It’s the Biting Booth, only it isn’t the—” Karen broke off as Victor turned and headed off into the park, the other men hard on his heels.

“I can’t believe she’s still biting when she knows it’s against our laws,” Harper said with dismay as they hurried through the crowd in search of the Biting Booth. “And Mabel too. Surely you told her it’s not allowed, DJ?”

“Yes,” DJ bit off the word.

“The Biting Booth is usually in the back right corner,” Brunswick announced, hurrying to keep up with them.

“Show us,” Victor said, and allowed him to take the lead as they made their way through the crowded grounds.

Victor was concentrating on keeping Brunswick in his sights in the busy area, so wasn’t looking around much, but when Edward suddenly gave a bark of laughter, he glanced around curiously.

“What—?” Victor broke off the question as he spotted the booth Edward was looking at. The booth itself and its occupants were impossible to see for the crowd gathered in front of it, but the sign was clearly visible overhead. It did read Biting Booth, but the Biting had a black line through it and Kissing had been written above it.

“Well,” Edward said mildly, “I suppose we can at least stop worrying about the ladies losing their heads over this.”

“The hell we can,” Victor muttered and strode past Brunswick to make his way through the crowd. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd of men, ignoring the complaints and mutters it caused, but came to an abrupt halt as he arrived at the booth.

Mabel was at the counter, checking off items on a clipboard as she asked questions of the man at the front of the line. He heard DJ’s sigh of relief as he reached his side and spotted his lifemate with her clipboard, but Victor didn’t comment as his eyes sought out and found Elvi.

She was at the back of the booth, busy removing a needle from the arm of a leering young man. As they watched, she gave him a cookie, a small glass of juice, then a quick peck on the lips, before moving to the man seated in the next of three chairs.

Growling, Victor started around to the entrance to the booth, only to find Mabel suddenly in his way.

“Sorry, Victor, you don’t qualify,” she said brightly. “We can’t take your blood. No blood, no kiss. Off you go now. We’re busy here.”

“Mabel.” DJ caught her arm and drew her to the side to begin whispering frantically. He wasn’t as angry as Victor now that he saw Mabel wasn’t actually kissing anyone, but Victor was furious.

“There you go,” Elvi was saying cheerfully as she removed the needle on the second man and put a wad of cotton over the hole where the needle had been. “Just hold that firmly for a minute while I get you a Band-Aid.”

She turned then, only to come to a halt to keep from crashing into Victor.

“Oh!” she said with alarmed surprise. “Victor. What are you doing here?”

“I think the more important question would be what are you doing here?” he said grimly, and then took her arm to move her away from the three men seated in the chairs at the back of the booth.

“I’m working,” she answered shortly, then glanced nervously around. “Teddy isn’t here, is he? Does he know—?”

“That you stole his car?” he finished dryly. “Yes, he does and he’s pretty angry.”

“We didn’t steal it,” Elvi said quickly. “We just borrowed it.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way,” Victor muttered. “He’s not happy, and neither am I.”

“Well, that hardly matters, since you weren’t happy with me before,” she said impatiently. “From what you were shouting, it’s obvious you think I’m a brainless twit.”

“I do not,” Victor denied at once, cursing himself for yelling at her earlier. In the next moment he was frowning in confusion, wondering how he’d suddenly become the one in the wrong. Before he could sort it out, Brunswick came rushing up with the others.

“Ellen Stone,” he said, yanking out his handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for grand theft auto.”

“Why is it you only call me by my proper name when you’re angry at me?” Elvi asked smartly, not seeming too concerned by the handcuffs he was waving angrily around. “And put those silly things away. You can’t arrest me.”

“I can and I’m going to,” Teddy assured her.

“Then you’ll just have to charge yourself with conspiracy to kidnap,” she said calmly. When Teddy drew himself up in shock, she went on, “Oh, don’t try to deny it. We heard everything from the upstairs landing on the way to my room.” Making a stern face, she imitated him in a deep growl, “‘We’ll just tell them they can’t go to the fair, and if they give us any trouble we’ll lock them in the cold room.’” She arched one eyebrow and said, “If it isn’t kidnapping, it’s at least unlawful confinement.”

“But we didn’t get the chance to lock you in,” he argued quickly.

“And I didn’t steal your car, I borrowed it. Here are your keys.” She dug a set of keys out of her pocket and dropped them into his hand. “Thanks for leaving them in the car for me. It’s in the parking lot.”

“You left the keys in the ignition?” Victor asked with disbelief.

“The shed was on fire,” Teddy muttered, with embarrassment. “I don’t even remember turning off the engine. I just slammed the car into park and jumped out to run over.” He grimaced. “I didn’t even think of them again until the car was missing.”

“That ought to look good in the report,” Mabel commented, drawing their attention to her and DJ. The couple stood arm in arm. Victor supposed that meant they’d patched things up. It was what he really wanted to do with Elvi, patch things up and get her back to the house where she would be safe. And yelling at her obviously wasn’t going to achieve that, he acknowledged. He supposed he’d best try reason.

“Elvi,” he began calmly, “DJ can help Mabel with the booth. Please come home with me.”

It almost seemed to work. Her stance and expression softened, but then she shook her head and said apologetically, “I can’t, Victor. I’m expected to be here.”

Victor snorted with irritation. “From what I’ve heard this last week, you’re expected at every town event. It won’t kill you to leave this one event early.”

“Actually, it very well might kill me,” she said coldly, her own temper returning. “In case you haven’t noticed, it isn’t money they’re donating here.”

“You shouldn’t have to sing for your supper like some sort of town pet,” Victor said sharply and knew at once that it had been the wrong thing to say. Elvi had started to turn away, but paused and spun back at his words. Curiously, her gaze shot to Edward first and then to him.

“Town pet?” she asked in a very quiet voice.

Victor’s mouth tightened, and he pointed out, “That’s how it seems to be. They supply you blood and you come when they call like a well-trained dog. They have plays and fairs and displays, and you show up and perform like a trained bear.”

Victor saw the blood drain from her face and was sorry he’d said that, but couldn’t take back the words. Besides, they were true. He’d caught glimpses of it everywhere in her life. She hated the name Elvi, but didn’t demand people stop using it because she didn’t want to upset them. She’d admitted that she hated the costumes she wore to the restaurant and these events—like the sleek black gowns she and Mabel both had on now—but wore them because it was expected. The Birthday Bite business was a pain, but she’d continued with it rather than disappoint anyone. And then there was her panic about the pies for the fair, as if should she not participate in this one event it would be cataclysmic. He’d got the impression that she feared they’d stop donating if she didn’t make these appearances.

Still, his choice of words could have been more diplomatic, Victor realized as he saw the cool expression now replacing the hurt on her face. He braced himself for a telling off, instead she nodded abruptly and said in icy tones, “It’s good to know what you really think of me.”

“Elvi,” he reached for her hand, but she jerked it away.

“No. You’ve made your opinion perfectly clear. You may not be able to read me and that might suggest I’m your lifemate, but I don’t think I am. You don’t think much of me, Victor. You think I’m stupid and in need of a keeper. I don’t want to be anyone’s pet. Not even yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Turning away, she moved back to her charges in the donation chairs, leaving Victor staring helplessly after her, knowing he’d screwed up royally, but unsure how to fix it.

“I can’t believe you!” Mabel snapped, suddenly in his face. “You’re supposed to be her lifemate, but you call her the town pet and a trained bear?”

“Mabel,” DJ murmured, reaching for her arm, but she shook him off with a sharp “no” and glared at Victor. “For your information, this particular fair is all because of you.”

“What?” Victor asked with surprise.

“Mabel’s right,” Teddy announced wearily, most of his anger with Elvi appearing gone. “We arranged this fair to bring in more donors…because of you and the men.”

When they began to protest, he raised a hand for silence and explained, “There are five of you here that we’re giving blood to for a week. That’s five weeks of Elvi’s supply gone like that.” He snapped his thumb and finger together.

“Actually,” Mabel added. “It’s probably more than five weeks since you men seem to drink more than she does. We have to replace that blood so she doesn’t suffer for your visit.”

Teddy nodded. “We realized that when we made the plans for you to come here and arranged the fair to try to build up the blood supply. Though, of course, we didn’t tell Elvi that at the time. She just thought it was yet another of the endless Fairs we have each summer. There are so many she loses track. But that was the reasoning behind it…to make sure we had the blood to support this week.”

“Yes,” Mabel said grimly. “So, perhaps instead of insulting her, you men could be more supportive. It’s not like we expect you to sing for your supper. Elvi and I are willing to do it for you. Although,” she added grimly, “perhaps you should. Maybe if you had to sing for your supper for a change you’d understand Elvi better and wouldn’t be so damned judgmental.” Turning on her heel, she stalked off to join Elvi.

“Elvi isn’t a pet,” Brunswick said quietly, watching the two women work. “She’s well loved and cared for in Port Henry. She’s one of us. And that’s why she comes to these events, not because she’s some trained animal expected to perform.”

Victor hesitated, knowing that’s the way he and everyone else in this town saw it, but they weren’t seeing everything. Finally he asked, “Do you really think she wants to attend and volunteer at every single event this town holds?”

“Well, why wouldn’t she?” Brunswick asked with surprise. “I do.”

“That’s your job, Brunswick. To make sure there’s no trouble. Her job is the restaurant and bed-and-breakfast, not making an appearance as Elvi the town vampire and running a Biting Booth or whatever else she’s done these last five years. When does she get to just sit back and relax and read a book by the fire? Or anything like that?”

Brunswick looked uncertain. “She could say no if she didn’t—”

“How could she possibly say no?” Victor asked. “Look, most immortals get their blood from the Argeneau Blood Bank. The donors are completely anonymous. They’re faceless, nameless mortals an immortal never has to encounter. It’s even delivered like groceries, leaving us to consume it guilt free.

“Elvi, on the other hand, lives and walks among her donors. Almost every mortal in this town has donated to her survival, which is kind and giving and really quite marvelous of you, but it’s also guilt-inducing for her. How could she possibly feel she can say ‘No, I don’t feel like attending this or that’ to people she feels she owes her very life to?”

DJ nodded and said, “Her life would have been much easier these last five years if she’d been able to simply order her blood as we do.”

“We didn’t know she could order blood,” Brunswick said defensively, and then added, “And, hell, she’s got nothing to feel guilty for. We’re the ones who insisted she take that damned trip. We all pressured her into it. If we hadn’t, she never would have come back a vampire and wouldn’t have needed the blood in the first place. Why the hell do you think everyone gives blood so willingly? Normally, trying to get blood donors is like pulling teeth, but mention Elvi needs more blood and everyone from Dawn down at the grocery store to Jimmy at the garage is lining up to donate because everyone pushed her to take that damned trip. She couldn’t go to the corner store that fall without the cashier telling her she should go. So, we feel we owe it to her. And she’s one of our own and we take care of our own.”

“And I’m sure she’s grateful for it,” Victor assured him. “I know I am. You kept her alive for me to find. But you need to see that in saving her life, you also took it. Her life is no longer her own. She spends her time running from the restaurant where she’s expected to make appearances, to rushing to event after event to pay back for the blood she needs…. To the point where now she’s putting her life at risk by attending this fair so no one’s disappointed. That’s wrong, Teddy.”

Brunswick frowned unhappily and turned to watch the two women work.

“Damn,” DJ muttered, his gaze shifting over the mortal men all crowding around Elvi and Mabel, eager to give blood to please them. “Why don’t we just call Bastien and have a year’s worth of blood sent down? Then they wouldn’t have an excuse to be here.”

“We can’t call Bastien,” Victor said.

“Why?”

Victor turned a grim look on the younger immortal and pointed out, “Bastien reports to Lucian.”

“Right,” DJ said with defeat.

It appeared the others didn’t understand, however. They all looked curious, but it was Harper who asked, “So?”

“The first question out of Bastien’s mouth would be ‘How is the case going?’ he explained, and then added, “I don’t want to answer that question.”

“Just what case would that be, and why wouldn’t you want to answer the question?” Brunswick asked, reminding them of his presence.

Victor frowned, hesitant to admit his original purpose in coming here, but in the end he didn’t have to, Edward did it for him.

“I believe Victor is referring to his job as enforcer for our council.”

“His job as enforcer?” Teddy raised his eyebrows, and asked with interest, “Is that like a vampire cop?”

“Basically,” Edward agreed. “He is sent out to hunt down rogue immortals.”

“Rogue immortals?” Teddy’s eyes narrowed. “Like ones who go around biting mortals and such?”

Victor grimaced.

“Yes,” Edward answered when he didn’t. “Of course, his case was complicated when he got here and found he couldn’t read Elvi and she is his lifemate.”

“Lifemate, lifemate, lifemate. What the hell is a lifemate?” Teddy asked with irritation. “Everyone keeps throwing that word around. Mabel is DJ’s lifemate, Elvi is—or according to her isn’t—Victor’s lifemate. What the hell does it mean?”

“It is what it sounds like,” Victor said simply. “Our other half. The rare woman who would be a proper mate. A woman we can neither read nor control and who balances out our shortcomings.”

“She completes us,” Harper said quietly. “And fills up the emptiness our existence forces upon us.”

Brunswick chewed that over, and then asked, “And Elvi’s that for you?”

Victor frowned, his gaze sliding over the other men before he admitted, “It seems she may be that for all of us.”

“Yeah, DJ was saying as much the other day,” Teddy said with a grimace. “Does this mean that instead of a mate, we’ve found Elvi a harem?”

“No,” Edward assured him. “It does rarely happen where two immortals can’t read and would suit one of the opposite sex, but it is very rare, and not the case here. At least,” he added, glancing around the men, “I can read her. She is not my lifemate.”

“Well, why the hell are you still here, then?” Victor asked with annoyance. “Why didn’t you leave the minute you knew you could read her?”

“It was a free week away,” Edward said with a shrug. “Besides, I was curious to see how it would turn out. It’s like one of those movies-of-the-week. The big tough council enforcer sent to bring in a rogue vampire, only she’s not what he thinks she is, and she’s his lifemate. What will he do?” He shrugged. “Besides, this town is just…and she’s so…and then there are other interests here,” he finished with a shrug.

Victor just gaped at the man, unsure how to respond. He then turned a disbelieving glance DJ’s way when the younger immortal commented, “Well, at least there’s one less man in the running.”

“Actually, is two less men,” Alessandro announced, drawing their attention his way. He gave a shrug and said, “I too can read bella Elvi.”

“You stayed for the free week too?” DJ suggested with amusement.

Alessandro shrugged again. “And other things.”

“That leaves you, Harper,” Teddy announced pointedly, turning Victor’s attention the German’s way. “I suppose you can read her too and were just hanging out for the free blood all week and to see what would happen.”

“Actually, no,” Harper said, and then admitted, “I haven’t tried to read her.”

Victor frowned. “You haven’t?”

“No,” Harper said calmly. “I didn’t bother to try after finding I couldn’t read Jenny Harper.”

Teddy Brunswick stiffened. “Jenny Harper, our mailwoman?”

“Yes. The first night at the restaurant I went to thank her party for switching tables with us, if you’ll recall?”

When the men all nodded, he said, “Well, the coincidence of her last name being Harper as is my first name, started a conversation and…” He shrugged.

“But you’ve been courting Elvi,” Victor pointed out. “Why—”

“I wasn’t exactly courting her, Victor. But I was here at her invitation—or Mabel’s as the case may be—and it did seem polite to keep company with her until the week is over. It also seemed a good opportunity to allow Jenny to get used to me before I tell her she’s mine,” he said simply. “Besides, you did seem to need the help keeping an eye on her with someone out to kill her.”

“Which is still the case,” Edward pointed out. “Although now there is the added problem of keeping you from losing her. And then keeping the council from demanding her head.” He smiled with mild amusement. “For a two-thousand-year-old vampire your lack of finesse in dealing with women is rather appalling.”

“What are you going to do about this council?” Brunswick asked before Victor could react to Edward’s words.

Victor sighed, his shoulders slumping as he admitted, “I don’t know what the hell to do about the council. I’ve been trying to sort that out all week, but got distracted by…things,” he ended lamely. Most of the distraction was due to Elvi herself. Truly, an immortal was useless when he first found his lifemate.

“Well”—Teddy shifted unhappily—“what exactly is it they’re sore about?”

“We were sent here originally because of the ad in the paper and the rumors in Toronto,” Victor said.

Brunswick scowled at the accusation in his face. “Don’t get all pissy with me. If it weren’t for the ad, you never would have met her. Besides, they can’t punish her for either thing. You already know that the rumors around the clubs are because of me and Barney, and the ad was placed by Mabel. They can’t blame her for that.”

“Surely, he’s right, Victor,” Harper said. “They can hardly blame and punish her for something others did.”

“No,” Victor agreed. “But they can blame her for other things. She isn’t exactly living quietly and doing her best to evade notice here. She’s a celebrity, if only in this small town, which they won’t like at all. And she was biting mortals, and that’s worse, that’s breaking our laws.”

“She didn’t know it was against your laws, surely they’d take that into account?” Teddy argued.

Victor arched an eyebrow. “So you let go every mortal who claims they didn’t know they were going over the speed limit, or didn’t know what they were doing was against a law?”

“Damn,” Teddy muttered, dropping his eyes.

“We’ll figure something out,” DJ assured the man quietly. “Victor’s smart and powerful and his brother is the head of the council. He’ll sort it out.”

Victor managed not to wince at this claim. He didn’t have a single idea as to what to do about it all. And Lucian may be his brother, but it didn’t mean the man would show mercy here. Lucian Argeneau had a reputation for being one of the most cold-blooded bastards on the continent, and with good reason. Victor’s instincts were shouting at him to grab Elvi and flee, hide, move to Europe maybe where the council might not follow.

“Anyway,” DJ commented, “that’s why Victor doesn’t want to order blood in. He’s trying to avoid any contact with the council or anyone close to the council until he sorts out the safest way to present this matter to them.”

“Yes, I understand now.” Harper looked thoughtful. “So, we too are now forced to depend on the goodness of these townspeople for our sustenance.”

“And Elvi and Mabel,” Edward pointed out. “Unless we’d care to get off our high horses and help, Elvi and Mabel are the ones who will be singing for our supper…or kissing for it as the case may be.”

“No,” Alessandro said indignantly. “They will not sing. I allow no woman to prostitution herself for me. I will do the prostitution for my own blood.”

“And I,” Harper murmured.

Victor glanced at Teddy. “So? What can we do to help?”

Brunswick hesitated, his gaze sliding around the fair-grounds, and then turned away. “Come with me. We’ll go find Karen and Mike. They’re on the committee for this thing.”

Victor started to follow, slowing when Edward appeared at his side to murmur, “Once we’ve settled the issue of helping out, I think we should discuss how best to help you win the fair Elvi. You don’t seem to be doing very well on your own.”

“He’s right,” Harper said from his other side. “We’ll put our heads together and come up with something. Don’t you worry.”

For some reason, their assurances only made him worry more.

Twenty

“Teddy just told me the men are running the pie booth,” Mabel murmured, handing her a bandage for the latest donor.

Elvi glanced at her with surprise. “I thought Karen was running the pie booth?”

Mabel shook her head. “Teddy says Karen and Mike are still out in the parking lot, arguing about something. So the men took over the booth and are offering women a kiss if they return with a bandage showing they’ve given blood.”

Elvi’s eyebrows rose. That explained the increase in women donors. It was usually mostly men at her booth, the women sticking to going to the blood bank, but she’d noticed several women in the line the last couple of times she’d glanced that way.

“Who gets to kiss them?” Elvi asked as she bent to apply the bandage to John Dorsey’s arm, and then gave him a quick peck on the lips, a glass of juice, and a cookie.

“That was my first question too,” Mabel said with a laugh. “I gather Victor and DJ are only doing the selling part, the women have their choice of Edward, Harper, or Alessandro. And,” she added dryly, “apparently they volunteered for it. It seems their appetite for food isn’t the only thing that has been reawakened on this trip. Which is kind of weird when you think about it…or not,” she added mysteriously.

“What have you heard?” Elvi demanded at once.

“Well, there is some gossip running around,” she admitted.

“About?”

“Well…did you notice that Edward kept volunteering to go to the grocery store for you to get more flour, then more butter, then apples and so on while you guys were making the pies?”

“Yes,” Elvi nodded. The man had taken forever on those trips, but she’d just put it down to his slow driving.

“Well, it seems every single time he went to Dawn’s till, and spent a good deal of time chatting her up and laughing with her,” Mabel announced.

“Laughing? Edward?” she asked with disbelief.

“I knowwwww,” Mabel said with a nod. “Maybe she’s his lifemate.”

“Dawn? No way,” Elvi said, but wondered.

“And then there’s Alessandro.”

“What about Alessandro?” Elvi asked, eyes widening.

“Well, Louise Ascot says he’s been over sitting on Mrs. Ricci’s front porch every morning this week while she’s out doing her embroidering by sunlight.”

“In the morning? While the rest of us are sleeping?” Elvi considered that and supposed it explained why the man was always the last one up.

“Apparently he sits there until almost noon,” Mabel went on. “Just talking to her and helping her thread her needle and so on. And Louise says this morning they went inside and he didn’t come out for hours…and he was grinning like an idiot when he did.”

“Mrs. Ricci?” Elvi gasped. “She’s eighty-four!”

Mabel snorted. “Well, I’m sixty-two and that didn’t stop DJ.”

“Yes, but…DJ is sweet and intelligent, and Alessandro is so immature and…” She paused to ask, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about Harper?”

She nodded. “Karen says that at the play she and Mike took them to, Harper chose their seats and he settled down right beside our mailwoman, Jenny, and he spent the whole play talking to her.”

“Well…I guess I can stop worrying about how to let them down easy,” she said with a grin, and then muttered, “I suppose now I just have to worry about dealing with Victor.”

“Yes.” Mabel bit her lip, and then said, “Elvi, don’t be too hard on him. I don’t think he thinks you’re an idiot or any of that stuff. And as for the ‘pet’ deal…” She sighed unhappily. “Honey, he’s seen and understood more in a week than this whole town has in five years, including me, your supposed best friend who lives with you.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how you were feeling. It never occurred to me that you might feel guilted into doing these things.”

“Mabel, it’s OK,” Elvi said quickly.

“No, it’s not. I’m seeing things different now that I’m immortal too. For instance, these costumes are damned uncomfortable and just plain ridiculous. How the hell have you stood it these last five—Oh my God, DJ shaved and cut his hair!”

Elvi glanced over her shoulder to see Victor and DJ approaching, both of them must have visited Irene’s booth. The hairdresser was cutting hair at the fair, the donations all going to the Abused Kids’ Shelter as was the money from Elvi’s pies.

“I like the shave,” Mabel announced, then added, “but I liked his hair longer.”

“So did I,” Elvi murmured, her gaze on Victor’s short, conservative cut. He was still gorgeous, but there was just something about a man with longer hair. She stared at him silently until Mabel touched her arm, drawing her attention.

“Listen, Elv—Ellie,” Mabel corrected herself, reverting to her old nickname with an apologetic smile. “Look, just listen to Victor, okay? From everything I’ve seen and everything DJ has said, I think Victor really does love you.”

“He thinks I’m an idiot,” Elvi muttered.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone with half a brain could tell you’re no idiot,” she argued. “Just let him talk, okay?”

“I thought you were mad at him too for what he said,” she asked with a frown.

“Well, I was, but I’ve been thinking he was right. We didn’t mean to, but we were treating you like a pet or something. None of us considered that you might want to do something besides perform for everyone all the time, and—” She broke off and shook her head. “There isn’t time, just let him talk. I’ll take over the booth; you two just take your time.”

Elvi watched her hurry off to the back of the booth, and then turned to see DJ break off to join the blonde. Victor continued on until he stood directly in front of her. “I don’t think you’re an idiot,” he blurted. “I have the greatest respect for your intelligence. I think you’re charming, and beautiful and sexy, and sharp-witted and sexy and sweet and kind and sexy and—Ah hell.” Giving up his verbal attempt to explain himself, Victor grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her against his chest to kiss her thoroughly.

Elvi was gasping for breath by the time he released her, but still heard him say softly, “I love you, Ellen Stone.”

Letting her breath out on a little sigh, she leaned her head against his chest and whispered, “I’m not an idiot.”

“I know,” he assured her, rubbing her back.

“I don’t run heedlessly into danger.”

“No…well…” Victor paused when Elvi lifted narrowed eyes. Grimacing, he said, “You have a frightening tendency to rush about doing things without thinking first.”

“Like what?” she challenged sharply.

“Like the cheesecake emergency,” he pointed out. “The minute you knew you could eat food you were off like a shot, desperate to get to the A&P, and woe and betide anyone who got in your way.”

“I wanted food,” Elvi said in her own defense. “It had been five years, Victor.”

“Yes, I know,” he said soothingly and pressed her head back to his chest, but added, “And then there was the bed business. The minute you realized you could sleep in one, you were up and running for the door.”

Elvi jerked back again to exclaim, “I was sleeping in a coffin!”

“Yes,” Victor nodded, rubbing her back, and pressing her head against his shoulder once more before continuing, “but you don’t stop to plan things, you just rush ahead…And it scared the hell out of me when I realized you were in that burning shed. That’s why I yelled at you…And you’re far too trusting.”

“Too trusting? I don’t think—”

“Just recall how you were trying all those drinks Edward and Alessandro were pushing on you at the Night Club. Things like that make me worried sick that you’re going to trust the wrong person and get hurt, Elvi…er…Ellie…Ellen. What do you want to be called?” he asked with frustration.

Elvi remained where he’d pressed her, her upset slipping away to be replaced by soft chuckles.

“Are you laughing or crying?” Victor asked warily.

“Laughing,” she assured him softly.

“Right,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Then he asked, “Is laughing a good thing or bad?”

Smiling, Elvi pulled back and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him and then whispered, “It’s good.”

“Oh.” Victor smiled.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

His expression turned wary when she blurted the question. “Don’t you like it?”

“Well…”

“You don’t like it,” he said with disappointment. “DJ was upset about the men hanging all over Mabel over here now that she’s turned and decided he was getting a shave and haircut to please her and I thought you might like—”

Elvi covered his mouth with her hand to silence him, and said, “I don’t dislike it. It’s just different and I fell in love with you with long hair. I’ll adjust.”

“You love me?” Victor echoed with a grin.

“Victor! Down!”

Elvi started to glance around to see what DJ was shouting about, but all she saw was him flying toward them from the back of the booth. He crashed into them even as Victor instinctively started dragging her to the ground. The three of them landed in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Jesus, DJ,” Victor muttered, struggling to sit up. “What the hell—”

Curious about his sudden silence, Elvi followed his gaze to see an arrow sticking out of the counter right where she’d been standing before DJ’s shout.

“It was Mike Knight,” DJ gasped breathlessly, sitting up beside him.

Victor turned on the younger immortal sharply. “Mike Knight? Are you sure?”

DJ nodded.

“It couldn’t have been,” Elvi said positively. “He and Karen have been my neighbors for sixteen years. I watched their kids grow up. He would never hurt me.”

She started to rise even as she said the words, but barely got her chin above counter level before Victor grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. She’d seen enough, however. Eyes wide with shock, she breathed, “It is Mike.”

Elvi could hardly believe what she’d seen. Mike Knight, her friend and neighbor, had been standing a good twenty feet from the booth, legs spread in a shooter’s stance and a crossbow in hand that he’d been reloading.

“Mike?” Victor shook his head with confusion. “That makes no sense. I read him after the fire in the shed. He didn’t set it.”

Elvi didn’t comment, her mind was still grappling with the fact that her neighbor, Mike, whom she’d known and been friends with for years, was trying to kill her. Thinking of friends reminded her of Mabel, and Elvi glanced toward the back of the booth to see that the blonde and three donors had flattened themselves on the ground, though Mabel was now crawling over to join them.

“Hi,” she said as she reached them. “What are we doing?”

“Hiding,” Elvi answered.

“Devising a plan,” DJ corrected with a scowl, then raised an eyebrow at Victor. “Any ideas?”

Victor shrugged. “We could jump over the counter from opposite ends and rush him from different sides. He can only hit one of us.”

“What?” Elvi asked with dismay. “That’s not a plan, that’s madness! You—”

“Er…Elvi?” Mike’s voice called tentatively from the other side of the counter. “Do you think you could stand up? This will only take a minute.”

Elvi turned wide eyes to Mabel. “Is he serious?”

“He’s lost his mind,” Mabel announced with a sad shake of the head.

Victor ignored them and suddenly stood up.

Elvi grabbed at his hand with alarm, trying to pull him down as she hissed, “Victor! Get back down here.”

He just shook her hand away, and turned, apparently, to face Mike. “What’s this all about, Knight? Why are you trying to kill Elvi?”

“Er…well, it’s kind of between Elvi and us if you don’t mind, Victor,” Mike said politely.

“I’m afraid anything involving Elvi involves me now, Mike,” Victor answered equally politely.

Scowling, Elvi stood up beside him. If he was brave enough to do it, she could too…or so she thought. The moment he noticed she was getting to her feet, Victor stepped in front of her, a protective wall. When Elvi tried to step to the side, it was only to find DJ on his feet beside her, blocking the way.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mabel muttered, standing on her other side so that she was protected from every angle but the back of the booth.

Making a face, Elvi gave up trying to step out in the open and simply craned her neck to see around Victor’s arm. Mike and Karen stood on the other side. Mike held the crossbow cocked at waist level and Karen stood at his side, expression grim.

“Was it Karen who set the shed on fire?” Victor asked when the silence drew out.

Mike grimaced and tossed his wife a heavy look, but admitted, “Yes. She did it behind my back. She knew I wouldn’t approve. The fire could have easily spread to the neighbor’s house, or ours. I didn’t realize she’d done it until she told me after you guys went off in search of the Kissing Booth tonight.”

“And the arrow at the furniture store?” Victor asked. “You or her?”

“Me,” he admitted. “That was an accident, though. I was heading out to get some practice when Bob, the owner of the archery club, yelled at me that Karen was on the phone. I swung back and somehow released the arrow as I turned.” He shrugged. “Sorry about that. I didn’t even realize there was anyone over there until I saw you and Elvi appear at the edge of the trees, and by then I was inside on the phone. I saw you through the window. You were gone by the time I got off and went over to make sure no one was hurt. But that’s where Karen got the idea of how to kill you. She figured an arrow was as good as a stake.”

“So you shot Elvi in the sunroom.”

Mike nodded. “Or tried to. I was sure I got her too, but obviously I missed the heart. I won’t miss at this distance, though, Elvi,” he assured her, meeting her gaze with a solemn expression. “It will be quick, I promise.”

“Michael Knight have you lost your mind?” Mabel shouted suddenly. “What does it being fast or slow have to do with anything? She doesn’t want to die.”

He looked startled by this news. “But you told Karen she was miserable as a vampire and wished she’d just died in that car accident rather than become a vampire.”

“That was four years ago. She’s happy now,” Mabel snapped, then turned to Elvi and said, “Tell him.”

“Actually, she’s right, Mike. I really have no desire to die.”

Mike glanced to his wife who moved to his side and whispered furiously. When he sighed and turned back to face them, Karen took a step toward the booth and said, “I’m sorry, Elvi. You know we love you, but he’s our son.”

“Owen?” Elvi stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at them as she asked, “What on earth does Owen have to do with this?”

Her obvious confusion just seemed to infuriate the woman. Propping her hands on her hips, Karen yelled, “You know what he has to do with this, you…you vamp!”

The way Karen had said vamp seemed to suggest it was synonymous with hussy, but Elvi merely said, “No, actually, I don’t know.”

“You bit him!” Karen exclaimed as if it were obvious.

Elvi’s eyes widened incredulously at the venom in those words, but rather than admit she hadn’t bit him, she said, “You brought him there to be bit.”

Karen’s shoulders sagged unhappily. “It was his birthday, it’s what he wanted. Besides, I didn’t want him to go through with it in the first place.” She glared at her husband. “I told you we shouldn’t allow him to do it, but oh no, you wouldn’t listen to me. I was being a silly woman. Now we have a vampire for a son when if you’d just listened to me, just this once—”

“What!” Elvi interrupted with disbelief. “A vampire?”

“Now, now,” Brunswick interrupted, stepping out of the gathered crowd to make his presence known. Someone had obviously gone running to fetch him when the disturbance broke out. Now he moved between the Knights and the booth, while Edward, Harper, and Alessandro began to slip along the edge of the crowd to surround the couple.

“I’m sure Elvi didn’t mean to do it,” Teddy said soothingly. “It was all just an accident. She’s been biting the boys in this town for five years and nothing’s gone wrong. How was she to know this time the bite would take?”

“I don’t care if it was an accident. I want my baby back,” Karen cried. “Mike, do something!”

When Mike looked uncertain, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you would rather our son was a vampire?”

“Well, hell,” he muttered. “It’s not like its hurt Elvi any, and she needs a husband. Better someone from here than—”

“Jesus Christ, the woman is the same age as my mother!” Karen interrupted with disgust. “She’s sixty-two years old.”

Mike’s eyes slid to Elvi where she was peering around Victor’s arm. He pursed his lips. “She looks damn fine for sixty-two. And Owen could look just as good forever. Just think, Karen, you won’t have to worry about him getting hurt in football anymore.”

Karen wasn’t impressed. “Michael Knight if you don’t kill this woman and let our son go back to being just a boy you’re going to find yourself in divorce court and I will take the house, the boat, the cottage, the––”

“All right, all right,” he said with defeat, and then turned to Elvi and the others and said apologetically, “I’m sorry. I tried, but you can see what I have to deal with here. The woman just isn’t reasonable when it comes to her boy.”

“Now, Mike…” Brunswick took another step, blocking Elvi’s view. “What is killing Elvi going to solve?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Teddy! Don’t you know anything?” Karen said with exasperation. Rushing forward, she caught his arm and managed to tug him a couple of steps to the side so that Elvi could see again as she explained, “The only way to turn Owen back is to kill the vampire who turned him. So, we have to kill Elvi. We don’t want to do it. We’ll probably end up with horrible neighbors with her gone and Mabel off in Toronto with DJ, but I want my son back, dammit!”

“You’d rather have your husband in jail for killing Elvi than have your son be a vampire?” Mabel asked with disbelief.

“Jail?” Mike said with alarm.

“You won’t go to jail,” Karen assured him quickly. “You can’t be charged with killing her, because she’s already dead. You’re just putting her to rest. Go on honey, get it over with. Sorry, Elvi,” she added in an apologetic mutter.

Mike gave a long-suffering sigh, offered an apologetic glance, raised the crossbow, and said, “I’d prefer it if you moved, Victor, but I’ll shoot you to get to her if I have to.”

Taking the men by surprise, Elvi managed to squeeze between them and throw herself in front of Victor as she blurted, “I didn’t bite Owen.”

“Damn, Elvi,” Teddy said with disgust as he shook off Karen’s hold and moved back between Mike and the booth. “That’s not going to work. We all know you bit him. It was his birthday.”

“Did you see me bite him?” she asked grimly.

“No, you took him in the back room, but we saw the bite mark when he came back out,” Karen said.

Shaking her head urgently, Elvi corrected, “You saw a Band-Aid on his neck. There was no bite. We put the bandage on to make it look like he’d been bitten so his friends wouldn’t make fun of him, but the truth is he backed out.”

“Oh now, that’s just bad form,” Mike complained. “It’s just wrong to try to make my son look like a coward to save your own life.”

Elvi rolled her eyes. “He isn’t a coward. Most of the boys back out. I didn’t bite him.”

When Mike looked uncertain, Karen scowled and asked, “Then why is he turning into a vampire?”

“He’s not turning into a vampire,” Elvi assured her.

“He sleeps all day, is up all night, and won’t eat anything or—”

“Oh, you mean he’s being a typical teenager,” Elvi interrupted her list of attributes. “I was a mother once too, Karen. Trust me, sleeping late, staying up late, and not eating his veggies, but instead going out and eating junk food with friends is standard procedure.”

“He has the fangs,” Karen said grimly.

Elvi snorted with disbelief. There was no way Owen could be a vampire. She hadn’t bit him. Besides, according to Victor, it wasn’t biting them that would do it anyway, it was sharing your blood. And she hadn’t shared her blood with anyone.

“He does,” Karen insisted, obviously infuriated at her disbelief. Straightening, she craned her neck to try to peer over the crowd surrounding them. A look of satisfaction crossed her face when she spotted her son. “Owen! Get over here and show Elvi your fangs.”

Elvi followed her gaze and spotted the teenager shaking his head wildly as he tried to duck behind Mr. Albrecht, the high school principal.

Eyes narrowing, Elvi said, “Owen Knight, get over here now, please.”

Owen peered out from behind Mr. Albrecht, eyes wide with panic. He shook his head again.

“Don’t make me send Victor over there,” she threatened. That had the effect she’d hoped and after a brief hesitation, the boy slunk out from behind the principal and started reluctantly forward, weaving through the crowd toward the booth.

“Gee, thanks. Make me the heavy,” Victor said by her ear, his hands settling heavily on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Elvi murmured. “But you’re scarier than I am.”

“And I always will be,” Victor agreed. “Besides, there’s no need to apologize. This is all very informative. It tells me that ‘Wait ’til your father gets home’ will be something our children hear a lot of.”

Elvi glanced at him with a start. “Children? Is that your idea of a proposal?”

Rather than answer, Victor gestured in front of her. “Owen has arrived.”

Setting aside the subject of their future, Elvi turned to peer at the teenage boy. A small frown plucked at her eyebrows when she saw how pale he looked. Part of it was his fear, but another part wasn’t, she decided, as she noted a streak in the white by his eyebrow. Mouth tightening, she leaned over the counter and ran a finger over his cheek. When she took it away, the tip of the finger was covered with white face makeup.

“Teenagers,” Victor muttered with amusement.

Elvi let a little sigh slip through her lips and turned her disappointed gaze to meet Owen’s. “Let’s see these fangs.”

Owen closed his mouth more tightly and shook his head again.

“Owen,” she growled, “open.”

His anxious gaze slid to Victor. Whatever he saw there, made him promptly open his mouth.

Elvi gaped at the canine teeth revealed, and then cast her glare out to encompass the three men who had been creeping up on Mike and Karen. “Edward. Harper. Alessandro…get over here!”

The three immortals glanced at each other, then shook their heads and gave up their positions to approach the booth. Rather than walk around to the side entrance, Edward simply swung the hinged countertop up to lean against the frame, then entered followed by Harper and Alessandro.

“What is it?” Edward asked as soon as he was standing in front of Elvi.

Elvi propped her hands on her hips and demanded, “Which one of you turned him?”

“Er…” Mike moved forward to stand beside his son to remind her, “You did, Elvi, when you bit him on his birthday.”

Elvi turned her gaze to him with exasperation. “You can’t turn someone by biting them, you have to—”

Her mouth snapped shut when Victor grabbed her arm and tugged her backward behind Mabel and DJ.

“I think it might be a good idea if we keep the hows of a turn to ourselves,” he murmured as the other immortals closed in around them.

“Why?” Elvi asked with surprise.

“Because I don’t think you want someone sneaking up on you while you’re sleeping to get some of your blood.”

Elvi relaxed and even chuckled at the possibility. “No one would do that! These are my friends.”

“Friends?” Edward arched an eyebrow and asked drolly, “Does that include the guy with the crossbow and arrow aimed at your heart?”

Elvi cast a glare the Brit’s way, and snapped, “He’s looking out for his son. Besides, you’ll notice he hasn’t used it yet!”

“God, you’re right, Victor. She is terribly naive for her age,” Harper murmured with dismay and Elvi didn’t know who to glare at: Victor for apparently saying such a thing at some point, or Harper for agreeing with him.

“I’m not naive,” she informed them grimly. “I’ve spent my whole life in this town and I know these people. Unlike you five.” She scowled at them and demanded, “Now which of you turned Owen?”

“My dear Ellen,” Edward said with disgust. “We are allowed only one turn in our lives. You can hardly believe any of us would waste it on that young lad?”

Elvi frowned, knowing he was right. They would save it for their lifemate if needed, not fritter it away on a boy who had apparently got over his fear and decided to become a vampire. Sighing unhappily, she said, “Well, someone turned him.”

“Ellen,” Victor murmured patiently. “Did you see his teeth?”

“Of course, I did. And I want to know who gave them to him.”

“My guess would be the costume shop in the city,” he said dryly, and then asked with exasperation, “Have you even seen your own teeth?”

Elvi scowled. “Yes. Once.”

“Once?” he asked with disbelief.

“Once,” Elvi insisted. “In Mexico right after the turn.” She grimaced. “They were kind of scary looking as I recall, so I haven’t bothered looking since we bought the mirror.”

“I forgot you haven’t had mirrors until recently,” Victor muttered and shook his head, then said, “Look, his teeth…our teeth…”

Elvi waited patiently when he paused and frowned, and then Victor gave up trying to explain. Stepping through the men, he reached out to put a hand to the back of Owen’s neck and dragged him into the booth. He must have squeezed his neck painfully then, because the boy squealed with surprised pain. Quick as a whip Victor reached into his open mouth with his free hand and snatched out one of the fangs.

“Oww!” Owen cried, covering his abused mouth. “That was glued in.”

“Glued?” Victor asked with surprise.

He nodded. “The bonding stuff didn’t work very well, so I used crazy glue.”

“Idiot,” Victor muttered, but simply walked to Elvi and held out his hand. The tooth lay in the middle of his palm, nothing more than a cap. “They’re fake.”

“What?” Mike lowered his crossbow and crowded into the booth, Karen rushing up behind him. The couple stared down at the fake tooth as Elvi did, then peered at each other, then back to the tooth, then to their son.

“Owen Knight,” Karen snapped, moving toward her son. “How could you do something so stupid? Your father nearly killed Elvi because of this stunt!”

“I didn’t mean to get Elvi killed,” Owen squawked, backing away. “I was just—Bev thought vampires were cool, so I thought…” His explanation faded away as he ducked behind the other immortals, doing a side maneuver to avoid his irate mother.

“Ah,” Victor said wisely, drawing Elvi’s curious gaze.

“Ah what?”

“A female. It explains everything. Mortal males do incredibly stupid things to try to impress females.”

“You mean like cutting your hair?” she asked archly.

Victor grinned. “Yes. Just like that.”

Shaking her head, Elvi slid through the men and stepped between Owen and his mother. “It’s all right, Karen. All’s well that ends well and no one got hurt.”

“What?” Victor squawked. “You were nearly killed three times!”

“Yes, well she knows we didn’t mean anything by it,” Mike assured him. “We really like Elvi. She’s the best neighbor we’ve ever had. I was really torn by the idea of having to kill her.”

A burst of laughter from Edward is the only thing that kept Victor from grabbing the man and snapping his neck. The short, harsh sound drew his vexation instead and he turned on the Brit with fury. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

“You,” he said easily, and added, “And this whole situation. I don’t envy you having to deal with this town. It will make for an interesting—but no doubt exasperating and exhausting—life.”

Victor just grimaced, he suspected the man was right.

“I’m sorry I called you a vamp like that,” Karen was saying now.

“Don’t be silly, I am one,” Elvi assured her.

“Yes, but it’s not your fault. Besides I made it sound like a bad thing and it isn’t really. You’re a lovely vampire,” the blonde assured her. “And we really do love having you as a neighbor. We were just so upset about Owen being a vampire and didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I made Mike try to kill you. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship?”

“Of course not,” Elvi gave her a hug. “If I’d been you I would have done the same thing.”

Victor shook his head with bewilderment at how women’s minds functioned…if they functioned at all.

“Well,” Mabel said mildly, drawing his attention, “I guess that resolves everything.”

Victor gave a snort of disbelief. They may have solved the mystery of who was trying to kill her and brought an end to it, but there was still a long way to go before everything was resolved. They needed to talk, and then there was still the town and the council to worry about.

“Oh, oh,” DJ muttered, drawing Victor’s questioning gaze. The younger immortal nodded to the side and Victor glanced over to see his brother, Lucian Argeneau, head of the council, standing at the edge of the crowd around the booth. It seemed those other issues were going to be dealt with now, Victor thought with a curse under his breath.

Twenty-one

“Shit,” Victor muttered, wondering how long Lucian had been there. “Elvi, come here.”

“What is it, Victor?” she asked, returning to his side, concern marring her face. No doubt a response to the panic in his voice. “Is something wrong?”

“My brother is here,” he said grimly, his gaze locking with the blond immortal’s eyes.

“Oh,” Elvi said. “How nice, I’ll get to meet your brother.”

“Yes,” Victor groaned. He could have waited a long time for this meeting. At least until he figured out how to present the situation here in Port Henry in the least damaging light.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing for me to meet him,” Elvi said with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” Victor assured her dryly. “Other than the fact that we’re dead once he finds out what’s been going on here, everything’s fine.”

“Oh, you.” She chuckled and gave his arm a slap, obviously thinking he was joking or exaggerating, then turned to glance out at the crowd milling around the booth. “He must be the blond who looks so like you.”

Victor wasn’t surprised she knew which one was Lucian. He was the only stranger to her in the crowd.

“Who is the pretty brunette with him?”

Victor turned his gaze to the petite woman in white pants and a red silk top.

“I don’t know,” he admitted slowly.

“How do I look, Mabel?”

Victor glanced down to see Elvi peering down at the dress she wore with alarm.

“Damn,” she said unhappily. “I wish we hadn’t worn these stupid Elvira dresses. Do you think I should run home and change?”

“You’re always lovely,” Karen assured her. “Both of you could wear potato sacks and look lovely.”

“I don’t know,” Elvi muttered, her gaze returning to the couple now moving toward the booth. She stared at the woman’s elegant clothes and then back to herself, bit her lip, and then threw her hands in the air. “I need to change!”

“If you are, I am too,” Mabel announced.

“I’ll drive!” Karen offered.

Victor’s mouth tightened. “Elvi.”

She paused and glanced back. “What?”

“You don’t have time to change,” he said quietly. “Besides, I want you at my side for this.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and Victor took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

“It will be all right,” she assured him soothingly, squeezing him back, and he glanced at her sharply to find her giving him a reassuring look. Sweet Jesus. She thought he was the one who needed comfort when it was her he was worried about, and he wasn’t at all sure it would be all right at all.

“Just how bad is this?” Brunswick asked, a frown of concern wrinkling his forehead as his gaze slid from Victor’s stiffening form to DJ’s grim expression.

“Bad,” DJ assured him.

“It will be fine,” Elvi assured him, scowling at DJ.

Victor shook his head at her optimism and told the police captain, “Lucian is the head of the council and Elvi’s broken at least two of our laws.”

“The biting and the rest of us knowing about her being a vampire,” Brunswick said with a nod, and explained to Mike, “According to Mabel, that’s against their rules.”

“Laws,” Victor corrected. “Laws Elvi could be sentenced to death for breaking.”

“Hmmph.” Mike scowled at the approaching couple. “Maybe you should take this.”

Victor stared at the crossbow that was now being offered, his mind boggling. Minutes ago the man was aiming it at Elvi, and now he was offering it in her defense. This had to be the craziest town—

“Should I go get the rifle Dad got me for my birthday?” Owen asked worriedly, reminding him of his presence. “I could take the car. I’d be back in minutes.”

Victor scowled at the lad who had nearly got Elvi killed and said firmly, “No.”

“Mr. Argeneau’s right, son”—Karen patted his arm—“Leave this to us adults.”

“Don’t worry, Owen,” Brunswick said firmly. “Nothing will happen so long as I’m here.”

Victor rolled his eyes. Brunswick still didn’t get it. Badge or no badge, he had no sway here. His authority and even his gun would be useless against Lucian’s position and abilities. He didn’t say as much, however, but simply pushed away the crossbow Mike was still holding out and hissed, “Put that away.”

“It’s tempting, though, isn’t it?” DJ muttered and he didn’t deny it. He loved his brother, but would kill him in a heartbeat to save Elvi. And he knew DJ was feeling the same way about Mabel.

“Victor,” Lucian said in greeting as he and the woman reached the other side of the counter.

“Lucian,” he said warily, his gaze curious as he noted the smile on the man’s face and the affectionate way he now slid his arm around the brunette’s shoulder.

“Hello, what’s this,” DJ murmured under his breath. “I’ve never seen Lucian smile. And who’s the squeeze?”

“I don’t know,” Victor repeated as Lucian urged the woman forward into the booth before him.

They fell silent, waiting, and Victor tried desperately not to think about how bad this could be.

“You cut your hair,” Lucian said with a grin.

Before Victor could respond, he found himself pulled into a quick hug. His eyes widened incredulously and he was a tad slow in responding to the greeting, his hands belatedly rising to weakly pat Lucian’s back as he released him. His oldest brother hadn’t been one to show affection in all the time he’d known him, though Victor had been told the man had been openly affectionate before the fall of Atlantis and the loss of his wife, Luna, and their daughters. It seemed that man was back.

As Lucian turned his attention to greeting DJ, Victor found his gaze sliding to the petite brunette at his brother’s side, sure she was the reason for Lucian’s softening.

“Brother…” Lucian stepped back to slip his arm around the brunette again and draw her forward. “I’d like you to meet my lifemate, Leigh Gerard, soon to be Argeneau.”

“Lifemate?” DJ gasped incredulously. “Well, hello dragon slayer.”

“Dragon slayer?” Leigh laughed as she shook the hand the immortal offered.

“Hmm. You must be a dragon slayer to have claimed this guy’s rock-hard heart,” DJ explained as he stepped back to make way for Victor to greet her. However, when Victor offered her his hand, she merely used it to pull him forward for a hug.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Victor,” she said. “Lucian’s told me a lot about you.”

“Welcome to the family,” he murmured, hugging her back. He then stepped back, squeezing Elvi’s hand when she slipped it into his. He almost introduced her then, but put it off by asking, “When did this happen? The last I heard you were headed to Kansas to deal with Morgan.”

“A lot’s happened since I last talked to you,” Lucian said with a grin, then added more seriously, “I’d have told you all about it over the phone but I couldn’t get you on your cell.”

“I forgot the charger and the battery ran out,” Victor muttered, hoping his brother didn’t read him and learn that he was lying through his teeth. The truth was that he’d shut the damned thing off once he’d realized he was attracted to Elvi. He hadn’t wanted to have to report what was going on here until he figured out the best way to do so. He knew DJ had done the same in an effort to protect both Elvi and Mabel.

“Hmm.” Lucian nodded and glanced to DJ. “And you? I couldn’t get through on your number either. I suppose you forgot your charger too?”

“Oh, no, I have my charger,” DJ said honestly, and then added the lie, “I forgot my phone.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”

The three of them fell silent, Victor ignoring the light tugs Elvi was giving his hand. He knew she was expecting him to introduce her, but was still hesitant to do so, so stood there silently, doing his best not to fidget under his brother’s narrow gaze.

It was Elvi herself who finally ended the silence. Letting out an annoyed little cluck, she tugged her hand free of his and stepped forward, offering it to Lucian. “I’m Ellen Stone. Welcome to Port Henry.”

“Hello, Ellen,” Lucian said politely, accepting and shaking her hand even as he turned a questioning gaze to Victor.

“She’s my lifemate,” Victor growled in response to the look, and wasn’t the only one to notice that he sounded less than pleased to say as much.

Elvi frowned at him, then forced a laugh and said, “Don’t mind him. I think Victor’s afraid you’re going to want to kill me, but I’m sure you won’t once we explain everything. This is my friend, Mabel. She’s DJ’s lifemate and this is—”

“Excuse me,” Lucian said over Victor’s groan when she dropped that bomb and then tried to jump right into the introductions he’d neglected. “Why would Victor think I’d want to kill you?”

“Because I’ve bitten mortals and everyone knows I’m a vampire,” she explained.

Victor groaned again.

“Now, now,” Brunswick said, stepping nervously to her other side. “You’ll have the man thinking you’re some rogue or something. She’s not a rogue,” he added firmly to Lucian.

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“I’m Captain Teddy Brunswick,” he introduced himself, offering a hand. When Lucian automatically took it, he added, “I’m head of the police force here in Port Henry so you can believe me when I say you needn’t fear Elvi breaking your laws now that she knows them. I’ve known her all my life. She’s a good God-fearing, law-abiding citizen of this town. She hasn’t broken a law ever in her life. Not even jaywalking…” He paused and pursed his lips, then added reluctantly, “Well, except for when she stole my patrol car tonight. But it wasn’t really stealing, it was borrowing. I mean we were threatening to lock them in the cold room and I did leave the keys in the car, so it was more like borrowing than stealing if you see what I mean.”

When Victor groaned again, Mike stepped nervously forward and tried to help matters.

“Teddy’s right,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t stealing really. And Elvi didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to bite us, none of us did or she never would have bitten all the boys as they turned eighteen. Besides, she only ever bit the willing.”

“Well, except for when she bit Mabel while she was sick with the turning,” Karen interjected, then quickly added, “but Mabel forgave her and they’re still friends and Mabel bit her back during her own turn so it kind of cancels it out, right?”

“Who are these mortals?” Lucian asked Victor with bewilderment.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mike held out his hand, “Michael Knight, fire chief for Port Henry. And this is my lovely wife, Karen.”

“I thought they didn’t want to kill you anymore, Elvi,” DJ muttered under his breath. “And I didn’t realize Brunswick had it in for you too.”

Sighing, Victor decided it was time to intercede, but before he could, Harper said, “She didn’t put the ad in the single’s column, and has never been to Toronto. She isn’t the source of the rumors going around the clubs.”

“I put the ad in,” Mabel admitted.

“And the rumors around Toronto were caused by Brunswick hitting the club scene there in search of other vampires,” Edward announced.

“Si,” Alessandro nodded. “They were looking for the mate for the Elvi.”

“We didn’t know we were doing anything wrong,” Teddy assured him. “We won’t do it again.”

When Lucian turned his way, Victor ran a weary hand through his hair and said, “Look Lucian, there’s a lot to explain here. Maybe we should head back to the house and discuss this.”

“You aren’t going without me, son,” Brunswick announced firmly. “I’m the law in this town and no one’s hurting Elvi.”

“We’ll just follow you over,” Mike announced, making it obvious he was backing the police captain.

Karen glanced toward the crowd still gathered around the booth and said, “I think we should all go.”

A rumble of agreement began among the crowd. Before it could grow too loud, Lucian snapped, “Enough.”

Victor waited tensely as Lucian’s gaze slid over the crowd of people who had closed in on the booth. He couldn’t help noticing that they had that same lynch-mob look they’d had in the restaurant that first night when he rushed up, stake in hand, threatening Elvi. If Lucian noticed it, he didn’t look concerned, though he did shift himself closer to Leigh in a protective manner.

Finally, he turned his attention to Elvi and asked, “Elvi Black?”

“No…well, yes, but no,” she said quickly, and explained, “My name is really Ellen Stone, but everyone calls me Elvi Black. Black is my maiden name, you see, and Elvi is…well, a nickname.”

Lucian stared at Elvi for a minute, then nodded and turned to first Brunswick, then Mike, his wife, each of the other immortals, and finally to Victor.

Victor didn’t resist or try to block Lucian when he felt the ruffling in his mind, knowing that his brother had already read Elvi’s thoughts as well as those of Brunswick, the Knights’, the other immortals, and probably half the crowd outside the booth if not all of them. It was the quickest and easiest way to get to the truth of the matter and probably the only way to sort this one out.

Apparently finished, Lucian relaxed and glanced at Leigh. “I believe Bastien is going to have to rent a bigger hall. We’ll be adding several more names to the guest list for our wedding.”

Victor let his breath out in a slow hiss, his shoulders relaxing, but stilled when Lucian turned back to him.

“Just for the record, Victor,” he said, “you couldn’t take me in a fight. I’d have slaughtered you. But I understand the reason you would have tried. She’s quite special. Almost as special as my Leigh.”

“I’m still surprised that I’m not going to get called before the council or receive any kind of punishment,” Elvi murmured, leaning her back into Victor’s chest and resting her arms on his as they watched Lucian’s car pull out of her driveway several hours later. “I expected some small punishment at least.”

“Lucian is the council, or at least the head of it. What he decides is usually law,” Victor explained, then laughed and added, “and he considers making us live here to keep an eye on the people of Port Henry to ensure they don’t tell anyone as punishment.”

“He does not,” Elvi laughed, slapping his arm lightly.

“He does, he said so,” Victor assured her with a grin.

Elvi just shook her head. “I really like him and Leigh. It’s a shame they couldn’t stay the day. They could have taken the room you and DJ used to have.”

“They like you too,” Victor assured her, hugging her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But they have a plane in Toronto waiting to take them down to Kansas to take care of a few things at Leigh’s restaurant before they head to Europe. Lucian’s worried about our sister-in-law and wants to check on her.”

“Marguerite,” Elvi murmured with a nod. “Leigh explained that they can’t reach her and her daughter’s had a baby.”

“Yes.” He hugged her close, his eyes searching the sky. Mention of Lissianna’s baby reminded him of a last issue he had to cover before he could be sure there were no obstacles to their future.

“Love, I know you want to have children, but…”

“But?” she asked and he could hear the frown in her voice.

Victor opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated and unwound his arms from her waist to catch her hand and draw her to a deck chair. Settling himself in it, he pulled her down onto his lap, cocooning her in his arms before he spoke.

“My son, Vincent, can’t survive on bagged blood,” he announced.

Elvi glanced up at him with surprise. “He can’t?”

Victor shook his head. “He has a genetic anomaly that won’t allow it. On a diet of bagged blood, he’d starve to death.”

Elvi frowned. “I thought the nanos fixed things and made us perfect.”

“Not perfect, better. Stronger, faster, healthier…” He shrugged. “They apparently don’t see this anomaly as something that needs to be repaired.”

“Oh,” Elvi murmured thoughtfully, then asked, “How does he survive, then?”

“He has to feed directly from the source,” Victor answered.

“He has to bite people,” she clarified.

“Yes.”

She was silent for several heartbeats and then asked, “He inherited it from you?”

Victor sucked in a breath, he’d known he’d have to tell her, but hadn’t imagined she’d guess. “How did you—?”

“You’ve been here a week, Victor, and never once fed in front of me,” she said solemnly. “Besides, I overheard DJ offering to cover for you that first night. And another time. I didn’t understand then why, but this explains everything.” She tilted her head to ask, “Is that why you disappeared for a bit when we were at the Night Club?”

“Yes,” he acknowledged warily, but she just nodded and leaned into him again.

“Do you mind?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Mind what?” she asked, sounding confused.

“About my having to bite other women?”

“Well, you could bite men too,” she pointed out with amusement.

“Yes, and I will, but there will be times when it’s a woman who will be most handy,” he said quietly.

Elvi shrugged. “Why should I mind? If it’s the only way for you to feed….” She shrugged again.

“Marion minded,” he murmured.

“Marion died before there were blood banks, she must have had to feed by biting as well. Why would it bother her?”

“She was afraid I’d find the women attractive, I think,” he admitted.

Elvi gave a laugh. “Then maybe there was something wrong with Marion. It’s hard to find someone attractive when you’re thinking of them as dinner. At least, it was for me. I certainly didn’t find any of those eighteen-year-old boys attractive.”

She peered at him solemnly. “Victor, even if you found them attractive, I know you wouldn’t do anything with them. I’m your lifemate. I doubt you’re likely to run into another woman you can’t read while out feeding. I’m not insecure enough to fret over that.” She tilted her head. “Is that why you haven’t told me until now?”

“That and I worried that you might be upset at the idea of having children who would have to feed that way as well. Bastien says the chances might be fifty-fifty as to whether they are or not, it depends on whether they take after the mother or the father. It’s something of a stigma among our people.”

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to hope they take after me,” she said reasonably. “But if they don’t we’ll deal with it. We can deal with anything together. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he breathed, hugging her close. “How did I get lucky enough to find you?”

“Mabel put an ad in the single’s column,” she reminded him teasingly and Victor laughed and hugged her close, and then stood with her in his arms and started up the stairs to the sunroom.

“I was thinking we might like to take a trip in the near future,” he murmured as he paused at the top of the stairs.

“Oh?” Elvi asked, pulling the sunroom door open so that he could carry her in.

“Yes. To California. To see my son.”

Elvi glanced at him sharply. “Really?”

“Really,” he said softly. “It’s time. And somehow I don’t think it will be painful anymore.”

“I love you, Victor Argeneau,” she whispered, hugging him tightly as he carried her through to the bedroom.

“I love you, Ellen Elvi Black Stone…. But I can’t wait to change your name to Argeneau so I know what to call you.”

“Just call me ‘Love,’” she whispered and kissed him as he lowered them both to the bed.

Vampires Are Forever

Lynsay Sands

Vampires Are Forever

An Argeneau Novel

For David F. Jackson.
Thank you for all the help,
especially since you “don’t read romance.” <grin>

Argeneau Family Tree

Prologue

“You’ll be flying over in one of the company jets. It should be ready and waiting by the time we get to the airport.”

Thomas Argeneau nodded, but his attention was on the clothes he was ripping from hangers in his walk-in closet and shoving into his knapsack.

Etienne watched briefly and then burst out, “Why hasn’t Mother called?”

Unable to answer the question, Thomas grimaced and shook his head. He found the whole situation upsetting. After seven hundred years as a housekeeper, Marguerite Argeneau had decided to start a career. But she hadn’t eased her way into the workforce with a secretarial job or some other mundane career. Instead, she’d decided she wanted to be the next Sam Spade, or Samantha Spade as the case may be. The woman, who had rarely left her home before this, had taken on a job as a private detective and flown off to Europe to locate the mother of a five-hundred-year-old vampire.

While Thomas understood her desire to have a career to fill her time, he wished she’d chosen something a little less exotic, and preferably one that could have been done at home in Canada.

“She called every evening for the first three weeks; sometimes twice in a night. And then, bang, nothing at all. Something must have happened,” Etienne muttered.

Thomas glanced over his shoulder, noting that his fair-haired, usually mellow cousin was anything but mellow now. Etienne was pacing behind him in the small walk-in closet, his face marred by lines of concern. It was an emotion the entire family was presently suffering. Marguerite Argeneau had been out of contact for three days now. Normally, that wouldn’t be cause for concern, but Lissianna, her only daughter, was in the last month of her first pregnancy. That was why Marguerite had been checking in so regularly. Everyone knew she’d intended to drop everything and fly home at the first sign that Lissianna was going into labor, which made this sudden silence very disturbing.

“Thomas.” Etienne stopped pacing and suddenly touched his arm. “I really appreciate your flying over to check on her like this…and so does the rest of the family.”

“I care about her too,” Thomas said with a stiff shrug and then turned back to his packing, knowing he’d just spoken the biggest understatement of his life. Biologically, Marguerite Argeneau might only be his aunt, but she’d raised him and was the only mother Thomas had ever known. He loved her as much as her daughter and sons did.

“I wish I could come with you,” Etienne added fretfully, beginning to pace again. “If I didn’t have this deadline…”

Thomas didn’t comment. He knew Etienne, as well as the rest of the family, wanted to go and look for the missing woman as much as he; they simply weren’t able to on such short notice. However, he also knew they were making arrangements to follow as soon as they could. Thomas was sincerely hoping that wouldn’t be necessary. He hoped to arrive and find her alive and well and with some silly, simple explanation for the lack of phone calls.

The sudden electronic ring of a phone made both men pause. Thomas watched Etienne slide a cell phone from his pocket and place it to his ear. His hello was followed by silence as he listened, and then he said, “Okay,” and put the phone away.

“That was Bastien,” Etienne announced. “He’s managed to book you a room at the Dorchester Hotel in London. It’s where Mother was staying before she disappeared.”

“London?” Thomas asked with a frown. “I thought Aunt Marguerite and Tiny were in Italy. The case they’re working is for some guy from Italy. Nocci or something.”

“Notte,” Etienne corrected, pronouncing the name No-tay. “And he is Italian. At least on his father’s side, but apparently he was born in England so that’s where Marguerite and Tiny started their search.” When Thomas merely stared at him doubtfully, he added, “Bastien arranged the plane for Mom and Tiny and he says they went to England.”

“So, she’s in England not Italy,” Thomas muttered and began dragging out the white linen pants he’d been stuffing in the knapsack, replacing them with jeans and a couple long-sleeved shirts to go with the packed T-shirts. It was early fall, the evenings would be cooler in England.

Once he’d stuffed as many clothes into the bag as he could, Thomas shifted the bulging knapsack past his cousin, and hurried out of the walk-in closet.

“Has Bastien heard from Jackie? Has she heard from Tiny?” Thomas asked, hurrying to the dresser drawers to find socks and underwear. Jackie Morrisey was the owner of the Morrisey Detective Agency, and Tiny and Marguerite’s boss. She was also the lifemate of his cousin Vincent.

Etienne grunted in the negative as he followed. “He still can’t reach Jackie. She and Vincent are in the wind. They’re probably locked up in a secluded cottage somewhere enjoying each other. I know, Rachel and I didn’t leave the house for several weeks after we finally got together.”

Thomas nodded as he crammed socks into the bag. He’d watched as each of his cousins found their lifemates, and everyone had disappeared for weeks afterward…all except Bastien. The head of Argeneau Enterprises hadn’t felt he could take the time away from the family company. In truth, he might as well have. The man had been working at half his usual efficiency ever since his lifemate, Terri, returned to him. While the others had disappeared for a month or so and returned able to at least hold an entire conversation again without having to rush out of the room to be alone with their lifemate, Bastien’s not taking the time to get it out of his system had just seemed to drag out the length of time during which he was easily distracted.

Thomas gave up trying to cram any more into his bag and began to zip it up. Finally admitting it was too full, he grimaced and pulled out the underwear he’d stuffed in, deciding he’d just have to go commando until he bought more in England.

“Greg tried to call mother at the Dorchester when Lissianna started having labor pains, only to be told that she’d checked out,” Etienne said unhappily.

Thomas nodded as he slowly managed to work the zipper closed. Lissianna’s lifemate had already told the family that when they arrived at the house en masse to keep him company while Lissianna gave birth to their beautiful baby girl. Their kind couldn’t go to the hospital and risk having their otherness revealed. Most immortals gave birth at home with only an immortal midwife to aid them, but Lissianna had asked Etienne’s wife, Rachel, to attend her. The woman might work in the local morgue, but she was also a doctor and had done a fine job of bringing the latest Argeneau into the world.

“Disappearing like this just isn’t like her,” Thomas said with a sigh as he finally got the zipper closed.

“No,” Etienne agreed. “Especially when she knew Lissianna was so close to giving birth. She made me promise to call if there was any sign that the baby was coming.”

“She made me give her the same promise,” Thomas admitted. “I suspect she made every one of us promise that.”

They both fell silent, contemplating what could possibly keep Marguerite Argeneau from contacting her family, or at least calling to check on her daughter. The answer was simple; death or physically not being able to call were the only things that could have kept her from doing so.

Pushing that thought away, Thomas swung the knapsack over his shoulder, snatched up the binder lying on the bedside table, and headed for the door.

“Are you composing something?” Etienne asked curiously, following him out of the room.

The question made Thomas’s hand tighten on his binder. He’d grown up in a home filled with music. Aunt Marguerite had loved all forms of music and had ingrained that same love in him as well. He had very fond memories of falling asleep as a boy to the sweet sound of her playing various piano concertos. When he’d expressed an interest, she’d taught him to play piano and guitar. He’d gone on to learn several other instruments since then.

Thomas was fourteen when he’d started his first clumsy attempts to write music. Unfortunately, Jean Claude hadn’t appreciated music and had belittled his attempts. It hadn’t taken long for Thomas to decide to keep his efforts a secret to save himself the heart ache of the old bastard’s taunts. Afraid his male cousins would take his efforts no better, Thomas had kept what he was doing a secret from them as well. Aunt Marguerite, Lissianna, and Jeanne Louise had always known, however, and praised him when the music he wrote began to get published and gain popularity back in the early nineteenth century. They’d been very upset at his insistence on publishing the music anonymously and keeping the knowledge of what he did from the others. But they’d honored his wishes. Or he’d thought they had, but now…

“Which one told you? Lissianna or Jeanne Louise?” he asked grimly. He’d sworn both women to secrecy over his career and didn’t appreciate their breaking the promise.

“Neither,” Etienne answered. “Mother told me.”

Surprise made Thomas stop walking and peer around.

“You didn’t think you could keep what you were doing a secret from her, did you?” Etienne asked with a laugh, and then added dryly, “She reads all our minds and knows everything about all of us.”

Thomas grimaced, but said, “I knew she knew. Who do you think taught me to read and write music? I’m just surprised she told you. Bastien and Lucern don’t know, do they?”

Etienne shook his head. “Your reputation as a useless loafer is safe from them, cousin. As far as I know she hasn’t told them a thing about it. In fact, she made me promise not to tell them either. She said you’d tell them when you were ready.”

“Hmm.” Thomas nodded with relief at this news, but then said, “It makes one wonder why she told you.”

“It was an accident actually. She caught me humming ‘Highland Mary’ back when it was popular and said it was her favorite of your musical compositions to date. Of course, I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about and made her explain it, but then she swore me to secrecy.”

“And you’re breaking that promise now?” Thomas asked with amusement. “Why?”

“I didn’t realize how long I’d have to keep the secret. It was almost two hundred years ago, cousin, and you’re showing no signs of revealing that you’re a musical composer any time soon.” He shrugged and then asked curiously, “Why are you keeping it a secret?”

Thomas continued up the hall, muttering, “It isn’t secret to everyone. Besides, Bastien and Lucern would just think it was a ‘cute little hobby’ and tell me to put away such childish efforts and go to work at the family business.”

“That sounds like something Father would have said,” Etienne commented quietly.

Thomas merely shrugged. It was something Jean Claude Argeneau had said, and it had hurt enough at the time that he wasn’t interested in hearing it again from Bastien and Lucern.

“There you are.” Rachel smiled at the pair as they joined her in the apartment’s large living room. “Thomas, is this your mother?”

His gaze slid past her to the portrait over the fireplace and he nodded slowly. Althea Argeneau had been a beautiful woman, but he had no memory of her. Marguerite had presented the painted portrait to him on the day he’d moved out of her home and into his own. The painting was the only connection he had to the woman who had given him life. His gaze now slid to the portrait on the opposite wall. It was of his Aunt Marguerite and he hoped to God it wasn’t now his only connection to the woman who had raised him. He had to find her alive and well.

“So…is she any closer to being able to have that next baby yet?” Rachel asked with amusement, drawing his attention back to the portrait of his long-dead mother.

When he peered at it and then turned a blank gaze to Rachel, Etienne reminded him, “The first time you met Rachel was at the Night Club. She thought you were younger than Jeanne Louise. You told her she was wrong, and then said your mom had wanted more children but had to wait another ten years or so because of the hundred-year rule.”

“Oh.” Thomas smiled wryly as he recalled the conversation in question. The comment had been a throwaway line one would give to a stranger. He’d hardly wanted to explain about his family tragedies to her then, that there was no “mom” and Jeanne Louise was only his half sister by his father’s third marriage.

The fact was Thomas’s father seemed to be cursed when it came to wives. They just kept dying on him, a difficult occurrence since they had all been immortals. In response, the man had grown bitter and angry over the centuries, shunning any real contact with his son or daughter. It was a sore subject for Thomas, and one he preferred to avoid, which was why he’d made that comment at the time rather than explain that Jeanne Louise was only his half sister and that Marguerite Argeneau was the only mother either of them had known.

However, it looked like he’d now have to explain himself. “I—”

“It’s all right, Etienne told me the story after we were married,” Rachel interrupted quietly and then crossed the room to run a hand soothingly over his arm. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories.”

Thomas shrugged the matter away as if it weren’t important and then turned to lead the way to the door. “We should get moving. The sooner you drop me at the airport, the sooner I’ll get to London, find Aunt Marguerite, and set everyone’s minds to rest.”

One

“This is as close as I can get, love,” the taxi driver announced apologetically. “That’ll be fourteen pounds.”

Inez Urso frowned as she noted they were at least three sets of doors from the gate she wanted. Unfortunately, there was a long line of cars waiting to collect arrivals and the driver couldn’t get any closer. Knowing she had a jog ahead of her, Inez handed him the money, managing not to grimace at the expense.

It isn’t coming out of your pocket anyway, she reminded herself. It’s a business expense. That was the only reason she was here. Only a direct order from Bastien Argeneau would make her suffer through forty-five minutes of London traffic in an airless taxi during one of the hottest Septembers in history. If she’d had more warning, Inez would have had one of the company cars take her to the airport to meet Thomas Argeneau. She also would have gone to bed earlier last night. But she hadn’t had more warning. Bastien Argeneau, head of Argeneau Enterprises and her boss, had called at five o’clock in the morning, waking her from a dead sleep to ask her to pick up his cousin at the airport. Worse yet, he’d called a very short forty-five minutes before the plane was supposed to land.

Knowing it would take that long to get to the airport from her flat, Inez hadn’t even taken the time for a shower or cup of tea, but had dragged on her clothes from the night before with one hand as she’d rung for a taxi with the other. Still doing up buttons, she’d grabbed her purse and run downstairs, rushing outside just as the taxi had stopped in front of her apartment building.

Inez wasn’t at her best. No makeup, hair a mess, unshowered, and wearing her day-old clothes, she wasn’t likely to impress anyone. Fortunately, Thomas Argeneau wasn’t someone she felt she had to impress. She’d only met the man once. After being promoted to vice president of UK operations several months ago, she’d gone to New York to tour the company’s head offices. That was when she’d met Thomas, or at least seen him. They hadn’t been introduced. She and several other top executives had been in a meeting in Bastien’s office when Thomas had sauntered in—unannounced and without knocking—to spout a lot of gobbledy gook that Inez hadn’t quite been able to catch except to note that it seemed to be sprinkled liberally with “yos, dudes, and dudettes.”

Inez had seen enough movies to know he was talking like a stereotypical 90’s California surfer. She somehow doubted the old terms were still used, but it didn’t matter since he wasn’t from California and—as far as she knew—there wasn’t much surfing done in Southern Ontario. She’d decided it was all an affectation. He was just a lazy layabout youth, taking on this surfer lingo in a misguided attempt to impress someone.

It had turned out that Bastien had called for him to deliver something to one of his brothers. Thomas was nothing more than an errand boy, she’d realized, and that had simply confirmed her assessment of him. He was an Argeneau, but rather than get a degree and take a position in the company, he delivered things and talked like a stoned idiot.

Which meant, Inez thought now, that she’d been dragged out of her bed at five in the morning to pick up a man who had no importance, and probably didn’t have a good reason to be in the country other than to loaf on new shores. It made him nothing more than an annoying pain in the arse in her mind.

Unfortunately, the request had been made by Bastien, and he was someone she did want to impress. So Inez snatched the receipt the taxi driver handed her, said thanks, and then flung the door open and hurled herself out of the cab to charge toward the Arrivals entrance.

A glance at her watch as she raced through the pneumatic doors and into the milling people said she’d made it to the airport five minutes after Bastien had said the plane would have landed. Inez felt a moment’s panic, but then assured herself that he couldn’t have got through customs yet.

Reaching the busy arrivals section, she took a moment to orient herself, and then made her way quickly along the row of glass windows toward the gate where Bastien had said she should meet Thomas.

Inez was perhaps twenty feet from where she needed to be when she saw the doors slide open and the man she was there to meet walk out. Forcing a pleasant smile to her face, Inez picked up speed and called out breathlessly, waving a hand to catch his attention.

Her call had been faint enough, Inez didn’t think he’d hear, but Thomas did glance her way as he proceeded forward. He even seemed to notice her waving at him, yet he simply continued forward and out of the airport through the pneumatic doors in front of his gate.

Shocked at the apparent snub, Inez stared after him with shock, and then cursed and burst into a run as she saw him walking toward the row of cabs waiting out front. Tossing apologies left and right, she jostled her way through the crowd to the doors and rushed out onto the concrete just in time to see the cab he got into pull away.

Inez stared after the black cab, disbelief giving way to anger. She’d been dragged from her bed and rushed out here only to have the ignorant idiot hop in a taxi and ride off on her.

“Do you need a taxi, love?”

Inez glanced around at the question, and then sighed at the sight of the same smiling cabby who’d brought her to the airport. The man had burbled happily on about this and that and nothing at all the entire ride out from the core of London where she lived. Now she would no doubt get to enjoy the same happy burble all the way to the Dorchester hotel where Thomas was staying.

“What I need is a tea,” she muttered, then sighed and nodded and moved to where the man held the taxi door open. Inez didn’t see the dark-haired, thin-faced man approaching the cab until they were both nearly to the door. She hesitated in surprise. He didn’t. However, before he could slip into the open door, the taxi driver stepped in front of it.

“I’m taking the lady,” the cabby announced firmly. “I brought her out, and I agreed to take her back.”

The man didn’t even glance her way, his attention focused on the driver. Inez had no idea what he said, but suspected he must have promised extra money, because the driver suddenly stepped out of the way for him to get in, closed the door, and got in the driver’s seat without another word, or even a glance in her direction.

Once again, Inez was left gaping after a departing taxi.

“Diya need a taxi, lady?”

Inez glanced around with a start as a younger driver hailed her. Mouth tightening, she rushed forward, not willing to allow another ride to be stolen from her. Reaching the car unimpeded this time, Inez slipped onto the backseat, forced a smile, and muttered thanks as the driver closed the door behind her. She then sagged wearily on the seat, thinking she really needed that tea now. Unfortunately, it would have to wait until after she got to the Dorchester and made sure Thomas Argeneau had everything he needed. That had been Bastien’s order. “Collect Thomas, take him to the hotel, and see that he has everything he needs.”

And that was what she would do. She would make sure Thomas Argeneau had every single thing he needed…right after she gave him a piece of her mind for riding off without her. Then she could have her tea.

“Thanks, just set it there on the table,” Thomas said as the bellhop followed him into the suite’s sitting room. When the man did and then turned, mouth opening to inform him of all the amenities on offer, he waved him to silence.

“I’m good, thanks,” Thomas assured him. Offering the man a tip for seeing him to his suite and carrying the knapsack, Thomas urged him toward the door.

“Thank you, sir.” The bellhop’s lips spread into a grin that he quickly softened into a more businesslike smile. “Just ring the desk if you need anything. Ask for Jimmy and I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“I will. Thanks again,” Thomas murmured.

Closing the door behind the bellhop, he then turned and stepped back into the sitting room of his suite. Classy, luxurious, tasteful…Nothing less than he’d expect. Aunt Marguerite always had shown good taste.

Moving forward, Thomas collected his knapsack and headed for the door leading into the rest of the suite, intending to place it in the bedroom. The ring of his cell phone made him pause, however.

Dropping the knapsack back on the table, he pulled the phone from his back pocket and flipped it open as he dropped onto one of the love seats.

“Yo?” he said lightly, already knowing who it would be.

“You arrived all right, then?” Bastien asked.

“Of course, dude. The flight was smooth sailing.”

“And Inez had no problem finding you at the airport?”

Thomas’s eyebrows rose. “Inez?”

“Inez Urso. I called her to meet your plane and take you into the city.”

Thomas could hear the frown in Bastien’s voice, but ignored it, his mind on his arrival in Heathrow as he suddenly recalled a little, dark-haired woman running through the airport waving. Thomas had noticed her, but Etienne hadn’t mentioned there being anyone to meet him so he’d just assumed she was there to collect someone behind him and kept walking. Now that Bastien mentioned Inez, however, he recalled the pristine and tucked-up little miss he’d met some months ago in his cousin’s office. But the woman who had been waving so frantically at the airport that morning had been less than pristine and tucked up. She’d looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.

“Thomas?” Bastien said impatiently. “Did she not show up?”

“Yes. She was there,” he answered truthfully, a knock drawing his gaze to the door of the suite. Standing, he moved to answer it.

“Good,” Bastien was saying as Thomas opened the door. “She’s very efficient as a rule, but I did wake her up at five in the morning to collect you and I worried that she hadn’t made it there in time.”

“Yes, she—” Thomas stopped abruptly as he recognized the woman at his door. His gaze slid over her limp, dark curls, her slightly wrinkled clothes, and her makeup-free face with its irritated scowl. Inez Urso. A very angry Inez Urso, he added, noting the fire flashing in her eyes.

When her mouth opened, Thomas instinctively slammed the cell phone to his chest to prevent Bastien’s hearing the tirade he suspected was coming. He wasn’t wrong. The phone had barely hit his chest when a barrage of words shot from her full, luscious mouth and poured over him. Unfortunately, very little of it was in English. Portuguese would have been his guess. He gathered that was her mother tongue and the language she slipped into when upset, and Inez Urso was definitely upset.

When she began to move forward, Thomas automatically backed up, allowing her into the room. He was too distracted to do otherwise, finding it fascinating how a woman who had looked perfectly plain on first sight could become almost beautiful as she berated him. Her eyes were flashing, her cheeks were flushed with anger, her lips flapping so rapidly they were almost a blur. She was also waving a finger angrily under his nose, something he normally found vastly annoying if the women in his family tried it. But coming from this short woman, he found it kind of cute and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth.

Big mistake, Thomas realized at once. Inez Urso did not like his amusement and her rant took on some real energy. Unfortunately, that’s when he became aware of the chittering coming from the phone.

Thomas scowled down at it, and then glanced toward the door closing behind the little barracuda still lecturing him, judging whether he could get her back out of the room long enough for him to deal with Bastien. It didn’t seem likely, at least not without being rude and Aunt Marguerite had raised him better than that.

He held up a hand for silence. Surprisingly—she obeyed the directive, her tirade ending at once, but then he supposed she’d been close to winding down. At least, her eyes had lost some of their heat, becoming more subdued. Inez was still breathing rapidly from her anger, though, and Thomas found his eyes falling to her slightly heaving chest, noting that with every inhalation, her blouse was stretched tight, threatening to pop a button.

A sharp inhalation drew his gaze back up to her face. Her dark brown eyes were flashing again, her mouth opening to go at him once more. Thomas didn’t blame her at all…really…it was perfectly rude to stare at a woman’s chest. Aunt Marguerite would be pissed at him too. Still, he didn’t really have time to apologize properly, or let her vent with Bastien’s voice still squawking into his chest, so Thomas said, “Hold that thought.”

Inez blinked at the order, but closed her mouth and Thomas gave her an approving smile before whirling away. He hurried through the small dining area and continued on into a small hallway with two doors leading off of it. The first led into a spacious marble bathroom, the second a bedroom. Knowing the bathroom would have a lock, Thomas slid inside and then locked it for good measure lest the woman follow to finish her lecture. He then took a breath and raised the phone back to his ear. “Bastien?”

“What the hell was that about?” his cousin growled.

“Oh, I…er…sat on the remote control and accidentally turned on the television. Some foreign film was playing and I couldn’t figure out how to shut it off,” Thomas lied blithely.

“Right,” Bastien said with open disbelief. “What was the name of this movie?”

“The name?” Thomas echoed and then scowled. “How the hell would I know?”

“I don’t know, Thomas. I thought maybe you caught it before you turned it off. It sounded terribly interesting. I quite enjoyed it when the woman called the man an idiot for making her drag her butt out of bed at five o’clock in the morning and haul herself down to the airport without either tea or a shower only to have him ignore her and march out to get in a taxi and take off to the Dorchester Hotel.”

Thomas closed his eyes on a sigh as he recalled Bastien spoke several languages, including Portuguese.

“Hmm,” Bastien added now. “That’s the same hotel I booked you into. What a coincidence.”

“All right, all right, so it wasn’t the television,” Thomas muttered irritably and then asked, “Did she really call me an idiot?”

An exasperated sigh came through the line. “How could you walk right past her, Thomas? Why would you? For Christ’s sake! I called her to make things easier for you and you just—”

“You didn’t mention that anyone was picking me up at the airport,” Thomas interrupted grimly. “Neither did Etienne. He said you had a plane waiting at the airport and had booked a room at the Dorchester. That’s it. There was no mention of anyone waiting for me at the airport, so I just hopped in a taxi.”

“Well, when you saw Inez—”

“Bastien, I met the woman once for about three minutes in your office almost six months ago,” Thomas pointed out dryly and then acknowledged, “I did see her waving and rushing toward me at the airport, but didn’t recognize her. I thought she was there for someone else. How was I to know otherwise when no one told me she would be meeting me,” he ended, emphasizing every word.

“All right, I get the point. You didn’t know,” Bastien said.

“Right,” Thomas sighed.

“Okay.” A moment of silence passed and then a sigh slid from the phone and Bastien said, “I should have contacted you myself and told you she would meet you rather than counting on Etienne. You’ll have to apologize to her for me.”

“Are you sure you told Etienne?” Thomas asked.

“What?” Bastien asked, his voice short. “Of course I did.”

“Of course you did, because you wouldn’t ever make a mistake. Those are for lesser immortals like Etienne and I.”

“Thomas,” Bastien said wearily.

“Yes?” he asked sweetly.

“Never mind. Look, she’s there to help you. Let her. She knows London and she’s a damned efficient woman. One of our best employees. She gets things done, that’s why I decided to have her help you.”

“You mean that’s why you decided to have her baby-sit me, don’t you?” Thomas asked dryly.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then Bastien took a breath, but before he could speak, Thomas said, “Don’t worry about it. I know you think I’m useless. Me, Etienne, and anyone under four hundred years old. So don’t worry about it. I’ll apologize to her and let her help me.”

He pushed the end button on the phone before Bastien could respond and tossed it irritably on the marble counter as he headed for the door. He’d grasped the doorknob when a thought made him hesitate. Releasing the doorknob, Thomas turned back to briefly pace the room.

He didn’t want another berating by Bastien’s underling. While it was cute and he’d found it fascinating to watch the fire dance in her eyes as she’d spat words rapid-fire at him, it would have been more entertaining had he understood some of it. Besides, he didn’t know London and this woman obviously did and while he’d like to be able to find his aunt all by himself and be the hero of the moment, the main concern was finding Aunt Marguerite. Common sense said he would probably get farther faster with help, and Inez was the only help on offer. But she was, no doubt, in a really rotten mood right now and he couldn’t blame her. Bastien might owe her an apology, but Thomas felt he owed her something too. He might not have known she was coming to collect him, but the woman went out of her way to do so and was ignored and left behind for her trouble.

After pacing the room twice, Thomas reached for the hotel phone on the bathroom’s marble counter. He punched the button for room service and quickly placed an order, then hung up and moved to the tub. His cell phone rang as he pushed the button to drop the tub’s stopper into place, but—knowing it would be Bastien with more orders and instructions—he ignored it and grabbed the bottle of bubble bath off the counter. Thomas dumped a generous amount of the liquid in and turned on the taps, then sat down on the side of the tub to wait for it to fill.

Inez dropped wearily to sit on one of the love seats situated on either side of the fireplace and scowled at the knapsack on the table in front of her. The man couldn’t even bother with proper luggage. He was staying in a five-star hotel and checked in with a knapsack. It was the only article of luggage in the room and the only thing he’d been carrying when she’d seen him at the airport.

She glared at the offending article and then realized what she was doing and shook her head, her eyes closing in dismay. She was losing it. Inez never lost her temper, yet here she was not just glaring at luggage, but she’d greeted her boss’s cousin by berating him like a harridan and cursing him in two different languages. Her boss’s cousin!

Dear God, she hadn’t just lost her mind but probably her job too once Bastien heard about this. Thomas Argeneau was probably on the phone in the other room right now complaining to him.

The rude little pillock, Inez thought unhappily. She still couldn’t believe he’d looked right at her and then just marched happily off and hopped in a cab. What kind of idiot—

Her thoughts died abruptly when the phone on the end table beside her began to ring. Inez switched her scowl to that, waiting for Thomas to answer it. It rang three more times before she recalled that he’d actually had a cell phone in his hand. Supposing he was still on that and couldn’t talk on two phones at once, she heaved a sigh and picked up the receiver only to get a dial tone.

Too late, Inez realized and dropped it back in its cradle with a shrug. She hadn’t wanted to play secretary for him anyway. She was the vice president of U.K. productions for Argeneau Enterprises Worldwide, for heaven’s sake. He could answer his own damned phone. As well as his own door, she added mentally when someone knocked on it.

Inez glanced toward the door Thomas had disappeared through, expecting him to appear to answer it, but there was no sign of the man.

“Room service,” a deep voice called as the knock came again.

Inez glanced toward the door again and then rose impatiently to open it, stepping out of the way as the bellhop began to roll a trolley into the room.

“Thank you, miss.” The man smiled as he passed. “Where would you like it?”

“What is it?” Inez asked rather than answer. Her gaze was fixed on the small teapot on the tray, but kept drifting to the silver-covered plate. Delicious aromas were drifting up to her nose, making her stomach rumble with interest.

Eyebrows rising, the man lifted the silver cover. “A proper English Breakfast. Eggs, bacon, baked beans, sausages, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, black pudding, hash browns, and a fried slice,” the man rattled off.

“The full Monty,” Inez murmured, her eyes roving over the food until he replaced the cover.

“And, of course, tea,” the man added. “So? Where shall I put it?”

Inez shook her head helplessly. She hadn’t a clue where Thomas wanted it, but she wanted it in her stomach. Right then. Dear God, breakfast and tea. The very idea made her want to weep, the actual sight of the food made her moan silently in her head. She was starving and could have killed a cup of tea, but had no doubt this was all for Thomas. He was probably going to eat it all right in front of her too, the—

“Oh, good. It’s here.”

Both Inez and the bellhop glanced toward Thomas Argeneau as he entered the room. The bellhop was smiling. Inez was not. Her eyebrows drew down in displeasure as she eyed him. If he’d just taken a little more time she might at least have pinched a sausage before he came out.

“Roll it in here please…Jimmy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” The bellhop smiled and promptly followed him with the cart.

Inez watched the food roll away with a little sigh. Just a small sip of tea even would have been nice, but the man hadn’t even bothered to think of her when it came to that. There had only been one teacup on the trolley.

Her thoughts were disturbed when the bellhop returned. The man threw her a wide smile and wished her a good day as he crossed to the door and left.

Inez scowled after him. Sure! He was happy. He’d probably eaten and even had half a dozen cups of tea by now. He’d probably also got a big tip from Thomas.

“Inez?”

Her gaze moved resentfully to the open door to the rest of the suite. “Yes?”

“Come here, please.”

Inez frowned at the request and hesitated. Come here? Come where? To his bedroom? It would be just her luck if the man was a pervert and thought one of her duties as an employee of Argeneau Enterprises was to “service” relatives.

“Not gonna happen,” Inez muttered under her breath.

“Please?” Thomas called.

Throwing up her hands with exasperation, Inez headed for the door. She’d go see what he wanted, but if he tried anything, anything at all…

Inez stepped through the door into what she’d thought would be the bedroom and found herself in a dining area. However, neither Thomas nor the food was in there, and it just made her suspicions increase regarding his motives. Continuing on through the dining room, she stepped into a small vestibule leading to three more doors. Thomas was calling from the room on the right.

Inez stepped into the marble bathroom, taking in the trolley of food, and the bathtub brimming with bubbles and then Thomas pushed a stack of towels at her.

“There you go. Enjoy.”

Inez blinked in confusion at the fluffy white stack she held and then turned toward the door he was now exiting through.

“Wait!” she cried, taking a step to follow him. “What is this?”

He turned back, surprise on his face. “I’d think it was obvious.”

Inez frowned, her eyes narrowing as her mind returned to the pervert possibility. Did he plan to feed her, bathe her, and expect her to perform for him? Wishing she wasn’t holding the towels so that she could prop her hands on her hips, she growled, “I think you’d better explain.”

Thomas eyed her for a moment, and then said, “Bastien forgot to tell me that someone would be at the airport, that’s why I hopped in a taxi. He says he dragged you out of bed at five A.M. and that—from what you said earlier—you rushed to the airport without either breakfast, or tea, or even a shower.” He smiled crookedly as he added, “Bastien asked me to give you his apologies. They are duly given, Bastien is sorry.”

Inez waved the apology away and nodded to acknowledge it at the same time.

“This”—he continued, gesturing around the bathroom with the full tub and trolley of food—“is my apology. Slip in the tub, eat your breakfast, and drink your tea, and when you’re feeling better, come back out and we’ll start to work.”

“Work?” she asked uncertainly.

“On the search for Aunt Marguerite,” he explained and when she looked blank, shook his head and said, “Bastien said he’d arranged for you to help me, that you knew the city and—” He paused suddenly, muttered something under his breath about Bastien and his sudden forgetfulness, and then sighed and explained, “Aunt Marguerite is missing. She flew to England about three weeks ago, stayed at the Dorchester a couple nights, and then headed north. She and Tiny were investigating—That’s not important. Basically, she was traveling all over England her first three weeks here and then stayed at the Dorchester again for a night. She apparently checked out the next morning, but we don’t know where she and Tiny went after that and neither of them have reported in since. I’m here to find her.”

“I see,” Inez said slowly.

“Bastien said he wanted you to help me, so, I thought we’d start with calling hotels to see if they just moved to another one for some reason. Failing that, we’ll try calling rental agencies, train stations, and so on to try to get a lead on where they’ve gone.”

“Oh,” Inez said blankly.

“Right…Well, don’t worry about that now. Enjoy your bath. We’ll talk about it after.” He started to pull the door closed, then stopped and added, “And don’t worry about rushing. I’m going to catch a couple z’s on the couch in the suite’s living room while you’re in here. Soak as long as you like.” He started to close the door again, and then paused once more and turned the inside lock, locking himself out once he pulled the door closed, which he immediately did.

Clutching the towels and housecoat to her chest, Inez stared at the closed door for several minutes. Her mind was a blank. Well, not really. Her mind was awhirl with myriad thoughts and feelings, mostly amazement. She couldn’t believe he’d gone to all this trouble and effort for her.

Her gaze slid to the bath he’d drawn and then to the trolley of food. Hers. It was all hers. And it was all so sweet. So thoughtful and considerate…Not what she would have expected from Thomas Argeneau or anyone for that matter. She tended to expect the worst from people so was always surprised by a kindness. And Thomas Argeneau had definitely surprised her.

Inez frowned at her own thoughts. Really, she hardly knew the man so shouldn’t have any judgment of him yet. Her prejudgment was made up of one meeting and the fact that the few times Bastien Argeneau had mentioned his cousin Thomas, it had been with a tone of exasperation.

From those two small things, Inez had assumed Thomas was a shiftless, lazy, thoughtless spoiled rich relative. She should have known better. Assumptions were bad, useless, a waste of time. But she had assumed, which made her an ass if she went by that old saying. And at that moment, it seemed to her the saying was true. She really did feel like an ass for making such obviously erroneous assumptions.

Inez sank down on the side of the tub with a little sigh, her mind turning to the fact that he wasn’t there to loaf as she’d thought, but to find his aunt…and he seemed to expect her to help, but all she’d been instructed to do was collect him and see him to the hotel. She was just wondering what she should do about that when a phone began ringing.

Standing again, Inez followed the sound to the counter, eyes landing on the cell phone lying there. Thomas’s. He’d obviously set it down and forgotten about it.

She glanced at the digital display and bit her lip when she saw Bastien ID’d as the caller. After a hesitation, she set down the towels, picked up the phone, flipped it open, and put it to her ear as she headed for the door.

“Hello Mr. Argeneau. This is Inez. Just give me a minute and I’ll take Thomas his phone so you can talk to him.”

“No, that’s all right. I don’t need to talk to him,” Bastien interrupted quickly. “I really wanted to talk to you anyway.”

“Oh.” Inez leaned against the door rather than open it.

“Did Thomas explain and apologize for me?”

“Yes,” she assured him, straightening away from the door and beginning to pace the room, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. “He apologized.”

“Hmm, but probably not properly,” Bastien muttered.

Inez frowned at the words as her gaze slid over the food trolley and then to the bathtub brimming with bubbles. Perhaps it hadn’t been her fault she’d made her assumptions. It seemed obvious Bastien underestimated his cousin.

“Actually, he did do it properly,” she said firmly, feeling a need to defend the younger Argeneau, and then added, “more than properly.”

“Oh?” Bastien queried. “How is that?”

Inez hesitated, and then admitted, “He drew me a bath, ordered tea and breakfast from room service, and suggested I make use of both to feel better. He’s being quite nice about all this, sir.”

“He ran you a bath?” Bastien asked with surprise.

“And room service,” she added defensively, suddenly uncomfortable and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “And then he went out to nap while I clean up,” Inez added quickly in case he was thinking anything was amiss. She bit her lip and then said, “I probably won’t take the bath, of course, but—”

“No, take the bath. That’s fine,” Bastien said quickly. “It will make me feel less guilty about rousting you from your bed. Besides, it isn’t like the two of you can do any looking for Mother right now. Thomas will need to sleep and then there’s the sun and so on. You may as well clean up first.”

“So you did want me to help look for your mother?” she asked with relief, glad to have the matter cleared up.

“Yes,” Bastien said and then there was a short silence, followed by a curse, followed by, “I forgot to mention that part, didn’t I?” A wry laugh came down the line. “I’m sorry, Inez. I’m a little distracted at the moment. So much has been happening, what with Lissianna having her baby, the trouble with Morgan, and then Mother going missing…”

Inez raised an eyebrow as she heard him blow out a long, calming breath. She had no idea who this Morgan was he spoke of, but knew Lissianna was his sister, and had met his mother while in New York. Marguerite Argeneau was a beautiful woman who didn’t look a day over twenty-five. It was very difficult to believe she was the mother of Bastien Argeneau who she would guess was in his mid to late twenties himself.

“I guess I owe you another apology. I know you have a lot to do, but I want you to put everything aside for now and help Thomas find my mother,” he explained grimly.

“Okay,” Inez said slowly, then cleared her throat and said, “Sir? Wouldn’t it be better to hire a private detective and—”

“She is a private detective,” Bastien interrupted impatiently, and then said, “Well, not really. She’s just started into the career, but Tiny, the man she’s with, is a proper private detective. A very good one, in fact, and he’s missing too.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

“Look, I know this isn’t part of your job, but we’re all quite worried about my mother. Thomas knows her habits, but has never spent much time in England. You know it better than he and you’re the most organized, details-oriented person I know. Between the two of you, I think you can track her down. It’s probably just a case of her getting wrapped up in the case and forgetting to call.”

Bastien didn’t sound as if he believed what he was saying, but Inez didn’t question him on it and merely said, “Okay. I’ll do what I can, sir.”

“Well…good. I really appreciate your assistance with this, Inez.”

“Yes sir, but…” Inez hesitated and then said, “you mentioned Thomas and the sun. Is he allergic like you are?”

She shifted, uncomfortable in the sudden silence that came from the other end of the phone, and then explained apologetically, “I only ask because if he is, I should probably arrange to use the car with the treated windows that you use when you are here and need to travel in sunlight.”

“Yes,” Bastien said finally. “Yes, he has the same allergy. It runs in the family. You’d best arrange for my car to take you around.”

“Okay.”

“Now I’d best let you get to your breakfast before it gets cold. Would you put Thomas on the phone? I’ve just recalled something I forgot to mention to him.”

“Of course. Just a minute.” Lowering the phone, Inez moved to the door, unlocked it, and slid out into the hall. She hurried through the dining room and found Thomas in the sitting room, seated on one of the two love seats facing each other in front of the fireplace. He was apparently writing something down in a binder.

“Bastien wants to speak to you,” she said quietly, as she approached holding out the phone.

“Oh, thanks,” Thomas muttered, not looking at all pleased at the interruption. He set the binder on the coffee table between the love seats, and accepted the phone. “Now, go have your bath before it gets cold.”

Nodding, Inez turned away, but not before glancing curiously at the binder to see that he hadn’t been writing at all, at least not words. The binder held pages with musical tables on them, scored with musical notes scratched in bold black. He’d been writing music.

Inez pondered that and listened absently as Thomas greeted his cousin in impatient, irritated tones as she crossed back to the door. She had nearly passed into the dining room when Thomas suddenly yelped, “What?”

Inez turned back with concern, but Thomas glanced her way with wide eyes, and seeing her still there, pulled the phone from his ear and slammed it to his chest.

“It’s all right. He just surprised me. Go on, have your bath.”

Inez hesitated. His tone hadn’t sounded surprised so much as shocked, perhaps even horrified, but he was waving her away, obviously wanting privacy for his call, so she turned away to return to the bathroom.

It was none of her business, Inez told herself as she crossed the dining room. Besides, her bath would get cold if she didn’t hurry. Bastien had said to take the bath and enjoy it and he was the boss, she told herself a smile slowly spreading her lips. Breakfast in the bath…how decadent was that?

She was about to find out.

Two

“You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas said into the phone the moment he heard the bathroom door close. “You arranged for someone who doesn’t know about our people to help me find Aunt Marguerite? What were you thinking?”

“I—”

“Besides, I thought all the senior executives in Argeneau Enterprises and Argent knew about our kind,” Thomas interrupted with a frown. “Isn’t Inez a vice president or something? She should know.”

“Yes she should,” Bastien agreed quickly. “We bring anyone promoted to an executive position to Canada or New York under the pretext of a tour of the head offices. We then reveal the truth to them and read their minds repeatedly over the next week to see how they accept it. If they are able to accept the information and keep the secret, all is well and they are promoted. If not…”

Thomas grimaced, actually able to visualize his cousin shrugging. “If not…” meant the person’s memory would be wiped and they didn’t get the promotion. In fact, they’d most likely find themselves working for a different company shortly after that, hired away by a headhunter who suddenly noticed how brilliant the individual was…with a little help from an immortal. It was hard to work with someone who was horrified by what you are.

“Right,” Thomas said dryly. “So how did Inez get promoted without the indoctrination?”

“Where did you meet her, Thomas?” Bastien asked quietly.

“In New York,” Thomas answered.

Bastien rarely spent much time in the New York office, keeping Canada as his main base to work from, but the whole family had been there for Lucern and Kate’s wedding. It was where Bastien had met and briefly lost his lifemate, Terri.

“The afternoon Inez arrived, I knew she’d be tired from the flight,” Bastien informed him quietly. “So we just had the meeting to introduce her to everyone—the meeting you walked in on—and then I sent her to her hotel. I intended to indoctrinate her the next day, but Terri arrived from England and…I got distracted by her turning and everything and…” He blew his breath along the phone line. “I ended up just telling Inez she was promoted and sending her back. I called Wyatt in England and told him to just keep her away from any information that was too revealing and I’d fly over and indoctrinate her at the first chance, but then there was the trouble in California with Vincent’s saboteur, then Morgan cropped up to cause his own difficulties, and now Mother is missing and I’m trying to arrange the wedding, but now it’s a double wedding with Lucian and Leigh, and Donny is driving me absolutely mad, and—”

“Bastien,” Thomas interrupted his ranting. “I get it. Despite all outward appearances, you’re not perfect, dude. You screwed up. Get over it.”

Another long, drawn-out sigh slid down the phone line. It was followed by a quiet, “Thomas?”

“Yeah?” he asked with amusement, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Never mind,” Bastien muttered and then asked, “Do you have any ideas on how you’re going to find Mother?”

“A few,” he admitted reluctantly. “I thought I’d call the other hotels in London to make sure she hasn’t just booked into another one. If that doesn’t turn up anything, we’ll have to check car rental agencies and trains and flights…”

“That’s a hell of a lot of calls. Even with the two of you working at it, it could take forever. There are hundreds of hotels in London,” Bastien muttered unhappily.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed quietly, his mind returning to an idea he’d had on the flight over. He hesitated over mentioning it, sure Bastien would think it was stupid, but then sighed and admitted, “I had a thought on the plane.”

“What’s that?” Bastien asked hopefully.

“Well, I read an article a couple months back about tracking cell phones. If I can track Aunt Marguerite’s cell it might be the fastest way to find her.”

“They can track phones?” Bastien asked with interest.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s only when a nine-one-one call is placed from the phone in the states and Canada, though. I’m not sure, but I’m going to check into it and see if it’s possible. I have a techie friend who just moved back to England last year who should be able to help me with that. If it can be done, I’m going to try to track her that way.”

“That’s a good idea,” Bastien said.

Thomas scowled at the surprise in his voice and said dryly, “I do have the occasional worthy idea, Bastien. I know you and Lucern think I’m a loafer and an idiot, but—”

“We don’t,” Bastien interrupted. “We know you’re intelligent and creative and—”

“Yeah, right,” Thomas interrupted with amused disbelief.

“We do. Really, we—” He released a slow breath and then he said, “Look, Thomas. Lucern and I know about your music.”

Thomas stiffened at the bald announcement and then asked warily, “You do?”

“Yes. Vincent mentioned it. He didn’t know it was a secret,” Bastien said, answering the unspoken question.

Thomas grimaced. He’d been composing music for Vincent’s plays for decades. It hadn’t occurred to him that now that Vincent and Bastien were talking again, Vincent might mention it to him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Bastien asked quietly. “Why the big secret?”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Thomas said quietly. “Aunt Marguerite and Lissianna have known all along. So does Jeanne Louise and Mirabeau. And Etienne,” he added.

“So only Lucern and I didn’t know?”

“Well, dude, you never asked what my interests were, or what I do with my time when I’m not at Argeneau Enterprises,” he said simply.

There was silence for a minute, and then Bastien said, “And only Lucern and I get the dude business.”

Thomas grimaced, but didn’t say anything.

“I know you only talk like that to annoy Lucern and me.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked with amusement.

“The first clue was that Lissianna gets this really amused look when you do it, Greg just looks curious, and you slip up all the time and forget to stick in the ‘dudes’ and ‘dudettes.’ I’ve overheard you have whole conversations with her and others that don’t include a single ‘dude,’ which means you only do it with us, and since it does annoy us, I’d guess that’s why.”

“Hmm,” Thomas muttered.

“Look, I know over the centuries, Lucern and I have sometimes acted like we think you’re a snot-nosed kid. But it’s just…” Bastien paused and when he spoke again Thomas could hear the frown in his voice as he tried to explain, “You’re like our younger brother, Thomas. When you were growing up you worshipped Lucern and me and wanted to do everything we were doing.”

“Well, worship is kind of an exaggeration, but I did look up to the two of you,” he admitted wryly.

“Yeah, well, we reacted like typical older brothers, being annoyed and condescending to you.”

Thomas was silent as he realized it was true. They really had treated him like a younger brother, the same way they treated Etienne.

“However, you’re well past two hundred now and I suppose we have to acknowledge that you’ve grown up some. So if you’ll try to cut out the ‘dudes’ and ‘dudettes,’ I’ll do my best to be less condescending and older brotherish.”

Thomas felt his eyebrows rise at the suggestion.

“Deal?” Bastien asked quietly.

“Deal,” Thomas echoed.

“Well, now that we have that out of the way…Since you’re going to be spending the next few days with Inez anyway, and will be right there to read her reaction, why don’t you just explain about us to her and—” He stopped when Thomas burst out laughing.

“No thanks,” Thomas said. “Nice try at dumping one of your problems on me, though.”

“I thought it was worth a shot,” Bastien conceded with a laugh.

Thomas smiled faintly at his admission, and then said, “Surely, there is someone at the company here who could take care of it?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Bastien asked dryly. “But no one will do it. I’ve always done it and they expect me to continue to do so.”

“Nice,” he said dryly

“Yeah.” Bastien sighed. “Okay, look. Just do the best you can to keep her from finding out. Wipe her mind if she sees or overhears something she shouldn’t, and I’ll bring her over for the indoctrination right after you find Mother.”

Thomas nodded silently, and then remembered Bastien couldn’t see him and said, “Yeah sure.”

“Good. Call that techie friend and then catch some sleep while you can. But, call me back if he is able to track her phone.”

“Okay. Later.” Thomas’s gaze landed on the open binder on the table as he pressed the button to end the call. Scowling, he reached out and flipped the book closed. The music he was working on was for a comedy, and he wanted the music to be light and bouncy to reflect that. Unfortunately, it was difficult to write light, bouncy music for Vincent’s play when his mind was full of worry and concern for Marguerite. Despite his best intentions, Thomas doubted he’d get any work done until he found his aunt. Fortunately, Vincent didn’t need it right away.

Turning his attention back to his phone, Thomas opened the digital phonebook to find his techie friend’s number.

Herbert Longford was his name. An immortal who’d lived in Toronto for a while during one of his breaks from his homeland of England. Thomas had met him several years ago while delivering blood, something he occasionally did when Bastien’s couriers got behind, or one was off on vacation. The two had got talking and a friendship had formed. Herb was British, 280 years old, and even more of a computer geek than Etienne. If anyone would know if Marguerite could be tracked by her cell phone, Herb would.

Pushing the button to call his number, Thomas sank back on the love seat, mentally preparing an apology for waking the man during daytime hours when he, like most of their kind, was no doubt sleeping.

Thomas was dreaming of music when the irritating ring of the phone woke him. Despite the circumstances that had brought him to Europe it was a light and sweet refrain and was still playing through his head as he snapped his eyes open. His gaze shot to the binder on the table and Thomas automatically snatched up the pen that lay beside it as he sat up. He was already scribbling the notes on paper as he reached for the phone and flipped it open.

“Yeah?” he said absently, his attention on getting the music he’d dreamed onto paper.

“Thomas? I’m guessing by the fact that you didn’t call that Mother can’t be tracked by her cell phone,” Bastien said, sounding unhappy. “But I called just to be sure and to let you know that I’ve arranged for blood to be delivered to your room. It should arrive at sunset or shortly thereafter.”

“Sunset?” Thomas asked setting down his pen with a frown. “I won’t be here by sunset, I should think. And, yes, they can track her cell phone. I did call the penthouse to tell you that, but I got your answering machine.”

“I’ve been in my office all morning waiting to hear from you. They tracked her?” Bastien asked eagerly.

“Yes. You won’t believe where she is, though,” Thomas said with a wry laugh.

“Where is she?” Bastien asked, a frown evident in his voice.

“Amsterdam.”

“Amsterdam?” Bastien echoed with disbelief. “No. That can’t be right. Have them double check—”

“I did have it double checked, Bastien,” Thomas assured him with annoyance. “Both times it came back Amsterdam, though from two different locations in the city,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Amsterdam,” Bastien repeated, obviously not pleased with the results of the tracking. “Italy I would have believed, and anywhere in England, but Amsterdam?”

Thomas could picture Bastien shaking his head as he said the word. He spoke the name of the old city as if it were tantamount to Babylon. Rolling his eyes, he pointed out, “She and Tiny are here in Europe looking for Christian’s birth mother. Maybe the woman lives there now.”

“That’s possible, I guess,” Bastien said reluctantly. “So, you need me to arrange a flight—”

“I’ve already done that,” Thomas interrupted with exasperation. “I figured the company jet would have returned to Canada after dropping me here, so when the second tracking confirmed she was in Amsterdam, I booked myself a flight over.”

“You did?” he asked and then grumbled, “Well you should have called me, I could have arranged the flight for you.”

“Bastien, I am not helpless. I can book a flight,” Thomas said grimly. “I leave at six-fifty P.M.”

“I know you’re not helpless, but I could have booked it through the company. You’re doing this for the family. You shouldn’t have to foot the bill alone. I could have—Did you say six-fifty?” Bastien suddenly interrupted himself to ask.

“Yeah,” Thomas said with amusement. “Why?”

“Isn’t England five hours ahead of Toronto? I’m sure it’s—”

“Yes. England is five hours ahead of you guys back there in Canada,” Thomas said patiently, wondering what time it was exactly. Inez was supposed to wake him after her bath so it couldn’t be much after eight in the morning. Actually, he’d taken so long about his calls earlier that when he’d finally laid down he’d felt sure he’d barely drift off to sleep before she was waking him.

Turning slowly, he peered around the room, searching for a clock. Thomas never wore a watch. It wasn’t usually a problem, but at that moment he wished he did. He’d just spotted the clock on the mantel over the fireplace when Bastien squawked, “Then it’s four-thirty there, Thomas!”

“Yeah, I see that,” Thomas muttered, wondering why Inez hadn’t woken him after her bath. “I’d better get off the phone and get moving. It’s an hour to the airport and I have to be there an hour before the flight leaves.”

“But the blood isn’t there yet,” Bastien protested. “It isn’t to be delivered until sunset.”

Frowning, Thomas walked to the curtained windows lining one wall of the room and tugged the heavy material aside to peer out, wincing as late afternoon sunlight splashed over him. He let the drapes fall quickly back into place. “Well, it won’t be sunset for another couple hours by my guess, so unless you can arrange it to get here in the next twenty minutes, I’ll just have to go without.”

“There’s no way a courier could get across town to the Dorchester within twenty minutes. Not with London traffic the way it is. And you are not going without.”

“Bastien, if you can’t get blood here before I leave, I have little choice. My flight leaves at six-fifty. I have to leave here by four-fifty if I want to get there on time,” he pointed out patiently, but wasn’t terribly happy to say so himself. He normally had three or four bags of blood a day, and there had been a full mini fridge of blood on the company jet that had brought him to England, but—distracted with his worry for Aunt Marguerite—he’d only consumed one bag. Now Thomas was feeling the hunger.

“Well…” Bastien hesitated, and then asked, “Is Inez still there?”

“Inez?” Thomas echoed with confusion, unsure what one thing had to do with the other. Turning, he walked through the suite, checking each room for the woman as he went. “No, I don’t think so. I expected her to wake me up when she got out of her bath, but that would have been hours ago.”

“I presume you didn’t tell her about the search moving to Amsterdam. She probably decided to let you sleep while she arranged for my car with the treated windows.”

Thomas grunted at this news as he crossed the dining room. The car hardly mattered now since he was headed to Amsterdam.

“It’s a shame she isn’t there,” Bastien continued. “I was going to suggest you feed from her before heading to the airport.”

“What?” Thomas gasped, coming to a halt outside the bathroom door.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Bastien said with irritation. “You have to feed.”

“Yes, but, this is hardly an emergency situation yet,” Thomas pointed out. “The council would have my head if I—”

“You’re in England, Thomas,” Bastien reminded him. “The European council has different rules than us. A lot of the older immortals reside there. They like their traditions and dislike change. Many of them refused to even consider banning feeding off the hoof. It’s still allowed there within reason.”

“Yes, but our council—”

“Can’t penalize you for behavior that’s completely acceptable where you are,” Bastien said firmly. “And you’re going to have to feed.”

Thomas frowned with displeasure at his words. “Can’t you get blood to me in Amsterdam?”

“Yes. But that’s hours away. Thomas, I don’t like the idea of your being on a plane full of people when you’re hungry.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You only had one bag of blood on the plane.”

Thomas grimaced. “Checking up on me?”

“Never mind that,” Bastien said, sounding uncomfortable. “The point is, you only had one bag and if Inez isn’t there—”

“I wouldn’t have bitten Inez anyway,” Thomas assured him.

“Why not?” Bastien asked and Thomas frowned at the interest in his voice.

“Because she seems nice,” he answered vaguely.

“Nice? She berated the hell out of you when she got to the hotel,” Bastien said with amusement.

“Yes, but she looked cute while doing it,” Thomas muttered, and then added, “Besides I somehow don’t think that’s under her list of duties in her job description.”

“No, it isn’t,” Bastien agreed on a sigh. “And I normally wouldn’t even consider it, but Mother is missing and the longer the delay…Besides, it wouldn’t harm Inez. And it is kind of an emergency.” When Thomas didn’t say anything, Bastien sighed in defeat and said, “You’ll have to rebook a later flight.”

“No,” he protested at once. “I’ll be all right, Bastien. I can hold out until I get to Amsterdam.”

“What if you have someone afraid of flying seated beside you?” he asked. “They’ll be nervous and sweating, their smell taunting you. And what if the stewardess cuts a finger or something? Hell, what if someone in the airport itself has a bloody nose while you’re waiting to board your flight? No. It’s too risky, Thomas.”

“Bastien,” Thomas began grimly, but paused as a light popped on in the bedroom. Frowning, he took the two steps necessary to bring him to the door of the room and peered in. His eyes widened as he saw Inez seated at a small table in the dying light of the day. Obviously, she’d worked by sunlight until now, but that was dimming as the sun slid lower in the sky and she’d turned on the lamp on the table to better see what she was writing as she spoke rapidly on the hotel phone.

“What?” Bastien asked.

Inez glanced toward the door and spotted him, offering a smile as she spoke. Thomas forced a smile in return, and then spun out of the doorway and took several steps away. “She’s here.”

“Mother?” Bastien asked with sudden excitement.

“No, Inez,” Thomas explained.

“Oh…Well…Good. Feed off her. Just enough to make it through the flight without being tempted to feed off a seat mate,” he added quickly before Thomas could protest again. “And then wipe her memory and head for the airport.”

When Thomas was silent, he sighed and said, “I know you don’t want to do it, Thomas. But you know better than to surround yourself with mortals when you hunger.”

“Right.” Thomas sighed, giving in. “Okay.”

He didn’t wait to see if Bastien had more to say, but snapped the phone closed and then simply stood there, considering what he had to do. Thomas actually found himself grimacing at the idea of biting Inez. He was a vampire. He used to feed off the hoof all the time before blood banks had come into existence, but that had been a good fifty years ago. All of his meals since then had been bagged and he found himself nervous at the idea of having to bite someone now. Not the actual doing of it, but enjoying it.

Thomas very much feared he would enjoy it. Bagged blood was cold and pretty much tasteless compared to the real thing. It had none of the scent of the owner, none of the individuality, and none of the pleasure of warm, pulsing blood pouring into your mouth and body. It was rather like the difference between the much-loathed airplane food compared to a home-cooked meal.

Oh sure, his kind could go to the Night Club to get specialized drinks that still bore some of the characteristics of the donor. Diabetics had sweet blood and so on, but it was still cold and really not as flavorful as blood from the source…And it had been a long time. What if he drank too much, or had lost the technique to share the pleasure and prevent her feeling pain?

“Thomas?”

Turning abruptly, he found Inez standing in the doorway to the bedroom peering at him curiously. When her eyes widened at the sight of his expression, he suspected that his guilt was plain to see there and tried to replace it with a smile.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” he said to distract her from what he suspected was a sickly smile, and then changed it to a scowl as he added, “You were supposed to wake me after your bath.”

“Yes, I know, but I thought you were probably exhausted after your flight. Besides, we couldn’t both use the phone at the same time, so I let you sleep,” she explained. “I’ve spent the day making calls; first trying the various hotels in the city to find out if Marguerite didn’t just move to another hotel, and when that didn’t turn up anything, I started on the car rental agencies, but there’s been no luck yet.”

She frowned. “It occurred to me, though, that they might have booked under the name of the man she’s working with, but all I know him as is Tiny. I didn’t know his last name, and I didn’t think that was probably even his real first name so couldn’t ask about him.”

“Actually, his first name really is Tiny. He’s Tiny McGraw. At least I think that’s his name,” Thomas said with a frown, wondering if the Tiny was really just a nickname.

“Oh. McGraw?”

Thomas blinked the thought away and glanced to Inez as she suddenly whirled to rush back across the bedroom and out of sight. Frowning, he stepped into the doorway to see that she’d returned to the table where she’d been working when he’d spotted her earlier. He hesitated briefly in the doorway, and then followed.

Thomas stopped a step behind Inez, his nose quivering as her scent hit him. She wore no perfume, having had none here to use after her bath. The only fragrance masking her natural scent was the faint whiff of the hotel soap and bubble bath, but it was a very faint scent after the whole day spent making calls in the hotel room. Most of what was reaching his nose was her natural scent, a sweet musky aroma that made his nose quiver.

His gaze slid over her back and up to her neck as she bent over a notepad and scribbled Tiny McGraw’s name and added a note beside it. Her hair had fallen to curtain her face, leaving him a peak of just a bit of the back and side of her neck. The skin there was smooth and unblemished, a perfect swath of skin stretched over the muscles and veins of her throat. It was the vein though that caught his interest. He could almost see it throbbing with the blood rushing through it.

When Thomas realized he was licking his lips hungrily at the sight and smells hitting him, and that the hunger in him was ramping up just at the thought of biting her, he knew Bastien had been right. He couldn’t travel in a busy airport, or sit on a crowded plane, with countless mortals and not be tempted to lure one to a quiet corner for a quick bite. It was a foolish thing even to contemplate in this day and age of security cameras and watchful eyes everywhere on the lookout for possible terrorist activities.

Inez straightened suddenly and stepped back from the table, stiffening with surprise when her back pressed into his chest.

“Oh.” Stepping away, Inez turned swiftly, eyes wide as she peered up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize….”

Her words faded as she peered at his face. Thomas knew his expression was probably hungry, so wasn’t surprised by the sudden uncertainty that flickered on her face and the way her heartbeat sped up. It was a natural response to a predator, and he was definitely that, he acknowledged. The very fact that he was suddenly aware of her heartbeat spoke of the fact that his old predator instincts were kicking in. The extra sensitive hearing his people enjoyed was a useful skill when on the hunt, but he normally blocked out much of the sounds it brought him, or had since blood banks had come into existence.

Now her heartbeat played like a concerto in his head, the dance of the hunted. He couldn’t resist stepping closer again and invading her space. Thomas found himself smiling as her heart fluttered and skipped a beat, and then settled into a rapid tattoo. He saw her eyes dart nervously toward the huge king-sized bed before skittering away, and he smiled as her scent changed. The pheromones coming off of her now were a combination of the sharp tang of fear and the deep musk of desire. Inez was nervous of him, but she wanted him and the two emotions were battling inside her.

“You haven’t had your tea yet.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows as Inez suddenly blurted that statement, then she was hurrying away across the room. He immediately followed, her scent making it impossible for him not to stalk her. She was a doe on the run, and he was the wolf, instinct sending him after his prey. Thomas allowed her to think she was fleeing toward freedom until she was out of the bedroom. Her anxiety level dropped a great deal the moment she was out of sight of the bed and that’s when he caught her arm and drew her back around.

Inez gasped in surprise and opened her mouth to speak as Thomas swung her back to face him, but she never got the chance to say the words of confusion burbling on the edge of her mind. Her mouth was suddenly covered by his, his lips and tongue moving over her. She caught at his arms to keep her balance and stiffened under the onslaught, her mind a confused jumble, but then his arms closed around her. He pressed her body against his with one hand firm on her backside even as his other hand slid into the wild mane of curls at her head and tilted it to a better position as he kissed her.

Inez moaned as her resistance melted away. He was overwhelming her senses. She was breathing in his scent through her nose, tasting him on her tongue and her body, was soaking up the touch of his like an eager sponge.

Groaning deep in her throat, Inez slid her own hands up around his shoulders, allowing the fingers of one hand to dive into his soft, dark hair, and curl closed around a handful of it. She then held on for dear life.

Inez had never had this strong or swift a response to a man before. Her body was tingling everywhere, liquid desire already pooling low in her belly.

Normally cautious and constantly assessing every situation, Inez was incapable of it this time. She didn’t care that this was her boss’s cousin, or that she could be involving herself in something that might be ultimately damaging to her career. Her body was humming, her mind bouncing around inside her skull like a useless rubber ball as he slid a thigh between both of hers and rubbed it against her core.

When Thomas broke the kiss, she moaned her disappointment and then gasped as his hand on her behind lifted her slightly so that her thigh pressed against the hardness between his legs even as she rode his own. Then his lips slid across her cheek and tarried briefly at her ear before dropping down over her throat. Inez groaned and let her head drop back and to the side, her eyes blinking briefly open.

A flash of surprise slid through her as she found herself peering straight through the open bathroom door and at their reflected image. They stood sideways to the mirror, and there was something erotic about seeing their bodies entwined. Inez just wished she could see more of Thomas’s face as his lips moved down her throat. A shudder went through her as his teeth scraped over her sensitive flesh and Inez let her eyes drift closed as passion washed through her, and then she stiffened and clutched at him with surprise as a needle-sharp pain struck her neck. Before Inez could quite grasp that pain or respond to it, the unpleasant sensation was gone, replaced by a wellspring of pleasure and passion that exploded in her mind, blanketing every thought.

Inez was aware she was panting, could hear a soft keening and knew it was her own as her body shuddered and writhed in his embrace. She wanted to tug at his hair and pull his face back to kiss her again, but couldn’t seem to move. Like a kitten picked up by the scruff of the neck, she was paralyzed in his arms, her body able only to experience the pleasure trembling through her.

It was only the ringing of the phone that roused her from the fever passion. Blinking her eyes open with confusion, Inez found herself peering at their reflected image in the mirror again. The sight of their embracing bodies ratcheted her need up another notch despite the annoying sound of the phone, and then Thomas eased his hold on her and began to pull away. His mouth was open as he lifted his head, and for one brief second she caught a glimpse of two, long, blood-stained fangs protruding from that open mouth and then they seemed to slide away and disappear and he closed his lips. Her eyes shifted immediately to her own throat, but his mouth had been working on the side of her throat away from the mirror. She couldn’t see it, and then Thomas was easing her back to her feet on the floor and shifting his hands to either side of her head, holding her still as his gaze focused on her face.

No, not her face, Inez realized with confusion. He seemed to be staring at a spot in the middle of her forehead, as if he could see into her mind. She’d barely had that thought when he began to frown. Thomas gave his head a shake, and refocused his attention on her forehead again, but she could tell by his expression that something was wrong. Not that she cared what he thought was wrong. Now that he was no longer embracing her, her mind was beginning to function again and it was going a little wild. She had seen fangs. Like a Vampire’s fangs. Bloody fangs. Her blood? Was Thomas Argeneau a vampire?

The thought was a mad one, Inez knew, but suddenly she was seeing some things in a different light. Thomas had an “allergy” to the sun, and while he’d ordered breakfast for her that morning, he hadn’t got himself anything, not even a cup of tea. But Bastien had an allergy to the sun as well, she realized. While her boss would attend day meetings with the higher-ups of other companies if he couldn’t schedule it later, other than that, he worked at night. And she’d never seen Bastien Argeneau eat. Oh, he toyed with and picked at food when it was brought to the few business meetings she’d been to with him on his infrequent trips here to England, but she never really saw him eat more than a bite or two. And then there was Marguerite’s not looking a day over twenty-five, but with four grown children.

None of that really mattered, Inez acknowledged. The facts were that Thomas had fangs and she was pretty sure he’d bitten her. That said vampire to her.

Inez’s mind immediately tried the rational route, reminding her that vampires were mythological creatures that existed only in movies. But it carried little weight when she was becoming aware of a burning sting in her neck at exactly the point where Thomas had been concentrating his attention.

“What the hell?” Thomas whispered the words with a sort of horrified amazement and Inez gave up her thoughts and scowled at him, thinking he really didn’t have any right to either emotion at the moment. She was the one who had been bitten. Maybe.

Wanting to know for sure, Inez pulled free of his hold and rushed into the bathroom. Standing before the mirror, she tugged her hair out of the way and stared at her throat. Sure enough, there were two nasty holes in the skin.

“Inez?” Thomas asked, his voice sounding worried and uncertain.

She immediately whirled from the mirror to glare at him. “You bit me!”

He opened his mouth, but rather than say anything, snapped it closed looking for all the world like a lost puppy. The man was a ravening vampire, but honest to God he was standing there looking at a complete loss as if he didn’t know what to say or do.

For some reason that infuriated her. Probably because some part of her wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be all right. A foolish response. That was what he should be doing to her right then, she thought with irritation. She immediately burst into a rant, hardly even aware of what she was saying as she waved a finger under his nose and began to back him out of the bathroom.

His cell phone began to ring again as he backed into the hall, and Thomas reached for it almost with relief.

“That will be Bastien,” he said over her words, his own definitely relief soaked. “He’ll know what to do.”

Inez stopped her rant and stared at him with amazement. “What to do? What to do? You bit me!” she snapped furiously, and then slammed the door in his face and locked it.

Three

Thomas ignored the ringing phone in his hand and stared at the wooden door Inez had just slammed in his face. It was as blank and featureless as the wall he’d run up against in her mind. He’d tried to slip into her thoughts to erase them once he’d fed enough from her, but much to his amazement, he couldn’t.

He’d redoubled his efforts, but had come up against a solid wall in her mind. The graffiti on it read “Bugger off! No Entry here.” He couldn’t read Inez Urso.

The phone stopped ringing, only to start up again a moment later and Thomas glanced down at it with a sigh. Spotting the caller ID stating it was Bastien, he flipped it open and lifted it to his ear.

“Thomas?” Bastien asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did you feed from Inez?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, good. Are you on the way to the airport?”

“No.”

There was a moment of silence. “Why?”

“We have a problem,” he muttered.

“What kind of problem?” Bastien sounded wary.

“I can’t wipe her mind.”

“What?” Bastien asked with disbelief.

A crash sounded in the bathroom as something was knocked to the floor. It made Thomas back away so Inez wouldn’t overhear his conversation. “I can’t get into her thoughts to wipe the memory of the bite from her mind.”

There was another pause and then Bastien clucked and snapped, “Dammit, Thomas! Inez is one of my best employees.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear to peer at it with disbelief, and then slapped it back to his head. “What the hell has that got to do with anything?”

“Well, if you had to find your lifemate, couldn’t it have been someone else’s employee. I’m going to lose her now. She’ll want to be with you and come to Canada and—” Thomas heard the sound of material rustling and knew Bastien had pressed the phone to his chest while he spoke to someone else. Etienne, he supposed, and guessed he was explaining things to the other man.

The whole family would know by sunset, Thomas realized and rolled his eyes.

“Never mind,” the older immortal said apologetically. “I’m just tired and cranky. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations?” Thomas echoed with disbelief.

“Yes, congratulations, Thomas. You’ve just met your lifemate.”

“I’ve just bit my lifemate,” Thomas snapped. “And she’s now locked in the bathroom, probably fashioning a cross and a stake out of the soap bars and anything else she can find in there.”

“Oh crap.”

“Yes, oh crap.” Thomas snarled. “Bite her you said. Feed off of Inez so we don’t have to worry about you being tempted on the plane. Brilliant, Bastien.”

“Well, hell, Thomas, how was I supposed to know she would turn out to be your lifemate? Couldn’t you have tried to read her before you bit her?”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Thomas snapped. “I had no idea she was my lifemate.”

“Okay, okay,” Bastien said quickly. “Let me think.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

“She’s locked in the bathroom?” Bastien asked finally.

“Yes.”

“Have you tried to talk to her?”

“What would you like me to say Bastien? Oh, I’m sorry, Inez. I didn’t mean to bite you, my fangs slipped.”

“You could try reassuring her. Maybe explain about what we are.”

“I think she’s realized what we are,” Thomas pointed out dryly. “And judging by the fact that she’s locked in the bathroom, she isn’t happy with the realization.”

“Give her the phone, maybe I can explain.”

“What part of locked in the bathroom aren’t you getting?” Thomas asked with exasperation. “I can’t give her the phone.”

“Okay…Just a minute,” He covered the phone again and conferred with Etienne.

Thomas shook his head and paced the small space of the little hallway between rooms.

“Thomas?”

“Yeah?” he turned his attention back to the phone.

“You’re going to have to try talking to her.”

“What do you suggest I say, Bastien?” Thomas asked wearily.

“Ask her if she’s all right.”

Shaking his head, Thomas lowered the phone and moved to the door, pressing his ear to it before speaking. All he heard was breathing, a fast, shallow panting. The woman was either on the verge of having an anxiety attack or she was jogging on the spot in there.

“Inez?” he called through the door, trying for a soothing tone. Judging by the scurrying sound of her shuffling away from the door, it didn’t have the desired effect. Grimacing, he asked, “Are you all right?”

A spate of Portuguese sounded through the door.

Frowning, Thomas lifted the phone to his ear. “Did you get that? What the hell did she just say?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t hear,” Bastien admitted unhappily. “Put the phone to the door and ask her to repeat it.”

Muttering under his breath, Thomas moved the phone to the door, cleared his throat, and said, “Er…Inez, do you think you could repeat that? I don’t speak Portuguese and Bastien couldn’t hear you.”

“You bit me!!”

Thomas waited to see if there was more, but when silence followed, he lifted the phone back to his ear. “Hello?”

“That wasn’t Portuguese,” Bastien said at once.

“Well, hell, Bastien, I know that. It was Portuguese the first time.”

An exasperated sound came down the line and then Thomas heard Etienne say something in the background.

“What did he say?” Thomas asked with a frown.

“He said apologize and just keep apologizing. It’s the only way to handle a woman,” Bastien told him, and then added, “It works with Terri.”

“Apologize,” Thomas muttered, taking the phone away and moving it back to the door in case Inez responded in Portuguese again.

“Inez? I’m sorry I bit you,” he said with sincere regret, and then inspiration made him add, “Bastien made me do it.”

“What?” Inez screeched, and the word was echoed by Bastien on the phone.

“Well, you did,” Thomas pointed out, placing the phone back to his ear. “You told me to bite her. I didn’t want to do it but you were going on and on about flying while hungry. I never would have bit her otherwise. You made me.”

Thomas heard Bastien curse on the phone, but he was already moving the phone back to the door. Inez had started ranting again in Portuguese. It ended with English again, this time it was, “I work for the devil!”

“Yes, well, you should try being his cousin,” Thomas muttered. Inez must have heard him. She was suddenly terribly quiet. Bastien wasn’t, however, Thomas could hear him squawking away over the phone, his voice not dissimilar to the squeaky voice of a mouse in a cartoon at that distance. Sighing, he placed the phone back to his ear.

“What did she say in Portuguese?” he asked, cutting off Bastien.

“She said you’re a soulless vampire, a blood-sucking fiend, and she has a cross and knows how to use it,” Bastien translated dryly. “Look, I’m going to hand you over to Etienne and use my cell to call the office there in London and have someone sent over to wipe her memory.”

“No! Don’t do that!” Thomas said sharply. He didn’t know why, but the idea of another immortal messing with Inez’s brain made him cringe. Taking a breath, he said, “Look, just give me a minute. I can fix this. There’s no need to wipe her memory.”

He didn’t give Bastien the chance to argue the point, but lowered the phone and stepped closer to the door. “Look, Inez, I’m sorry I bit you. I really am, and I really didn’t want to. Like I said, Bastien insisted on it. I shouldn’t have given in, but…It didn’t hurt, did it?”

Inez scowled, her suspicious gaze fixed on the bathroom door. In truth, the bite hadn’t hurt. It had even been pleasurable…at least until she’d seen his fangs and realized what he’d done. That thought made her frown. He’d had a reflection. Vampires weren’t supposed to have one. Maybe he was just a freak and the fangs were glued on. That made more sense than that he might be a vampire. A freak was better than a vampire, wasn’t it? She pondered the matter, but really wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“What are you?” she asked suddenly. “Some sort of gothfreak vampire wannabe?”

“No, I—” His voice died briefly and then she heard him muttering, “No, Bastien. I don’t want you to have her memory wiped. Just give me a minute here.”

Inez frowned in the silence that followed, wondering what he meant by having her memory wiped. While she wasn’t sure what it was, it didn’t sound like something she wanted either.

“No,” Thomas repeated on the other side of the door. “She’s my damned lifemate, Bastien, and you aren’t having her wiped.”

Inez’s eyebrows rose. She was his damned lifemate? What did that mean? Was she literally damned now that he’d bit her? Frowning, she turned to peer in the mirror at the marks on her neck. Was she a vampire now too? She didn’t feel soulless and dead. And she did still have a reflection. What—

“Another five minutes isn’t going to make much difference,” Thomas snapped on the other side of the door. “You’re the one who said she was the best damned employee you’ve ever had. She’s smart and sensible. I can make her see sense. Instead of calling Wyatt and ordering him to come here and wipe her, call the damned airport and book a seat for her on the plane to Amsterdam.”

Inez frowned at the mention of Wyatt. He was the president of UK development for Argent, the British division of Argeneau Enterprises. He was her boss. She had always liked the man, but now recalled that he too had an allergy to sunlight. In fact, most of the upper echelon of executives did, she realized.

Dear God, she worked in a nest of vampires! How could she have worked with them all so long and not realized?

She was realizing now, of course, and noticing other oddities; like the fact that few of the upper echelon of the company ate food or drank alcohol or even tea or coffee. They were all friendly, and nice, intelligent people, but didn’t do the usual social things like going out for drinks together after landing a big contract, or attending the Christmas parties and other celebrations the underlings at the company held. In fact, only the day workers attended such functions, she realized with dismay.

“Yes, we can still make the flight to Amsterdam,” Thomas insisted on the other side of the door. “Just let me talk to the woman without you interrupting me.”

Inez couldn’t hear Bastien’s response, but supposed he must have agreed when Thomas cleared his throat and said close to the door, “Look, Inez, I got a hold of someone who was able to track Aunt Marguerite’s cell phone. It turns out she isn’t here at all. She’s in Amsterdam, so I have to fly over there. In fact, I’m booked on a flight for six-fifty and I have to leave soon to catch it.”

“Okay. You go ahead,” she suggested and heard him sigh on the other side of the door.

“I can’t until we fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix. I’m fine,” Inez lied glibly. “You go on and fly to Amsterdam.”

“I can’t. I want to explain everything to you so that you won’t be afraid or freaked out anymore,” he said quietly.

“I’m not freaked out,” she lied again.

“Right,” he said dryly.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little freaked out, but I’ll be fine,” Inez assured him and then held her breath, praying he’d just go away and leave her alone. She’d slip out and call the police…No, she couldn’t do that, they’d think she was mad. Maybe she should go to her church. Surely the church knew about the evil living in the bosom of London?

“Inez, I can’t just go away.”

She closed her eyes at his unhappy words, and then opened them again and suggested, “Okay, so explain.”

“I can’t do that either. Not right this minute anyway, it would take too long and we have to catch that flight to Amsterdam.”

“We?” she echoed with alarm.

“Yes. Won’t you please come out of there and fly to Amsterdam with me so that I can explain matters to you? I promise not to bite you again.”

Inez didn’t say anything, but she was shaking her head with certainty. There was no way she was going anywhere with the man. He’d bit her, for cripes sake. Asking her to accompany him was like asking her to get in the back of a van with a rabid dog. How stupid did he think she was?

“Inez? You were here all day and were perfectly safe. If I’d wanted to harm you, I could have done so first thing this morning when we were alone in the suite, but I didn’t, did I? Instead I drew you a bath and ordered you a breakfast, and—”

“And then you bit me,” Inez snapped, interrupting him before his words could remind her of the kinder feelings she’d had for him earlier in the day. And she had most definitely had kinder feelings all day for the man. She had luxuriated in her bubble bath, thinking what a wonderful, thoughtful, sweet man Thomas Argeneau was. She’d eaten her breakfast, every bite giving her fonder and fonder thoughts of the man. And the tea? The first sip of the golden nectar had nearly convinced her Thomas was a God among men.

After her bath, Inez had gone out, looked down at his sleeping face and noticed just how handsome and sweet he looked in sleep. She’d wanted to touch his soft, dark hair and brush it away from his chiseled features softened in sleep. She hadn’t, but she also hadn’t had the heart to wake him, and had set up shop in the suite’s bedroom to avoid disturbing him as she made the calls, first arranging for the car to be brought into the city from the warehouse, then calling hotel after hotel, and then car rental agency after car rental agency, stopping only to walk out and moon over the pretty man asleep on the sofa and ponder how wonderful it would be to have a handsome, thoughtful man such as he in her life.

Every time she’d been placed on hold as she made her calls, Inez had found herself sitting there, fantasizing about what it would be like to have a man like him to come home to at the end of a long hard workday. She’d imagined him greeting her at the door with a kiss, the smells of scrumptious cooking drifting to her as he kissed her hello, his hands moving over her body, stripping away her clothes and then caressing every inch of skin revealed…

Oh, yes, Inez had woven a lovely little fantasy in her mind and had been happy when he’d woken up and come to join her…right up until he bit her.

“I won’t hurt you,” Thomas said solemnly through the door. “I could have broken down this door if I wanted, but I haven’t, have I? I don’t want to hurt or frighten you, Inez. Once we leave this suite, you’ll be surrounded by people in the hotel, the taxi driver in the car, the people at the airport and on the plane, and you’ll have your own room at the hotel. You only have to see me in public where you feel safe so I can explain everything. Surely you’re curious to know about us?”

Inez scowled at the door, cursing herself for being tempted by the promise of an explanation.

“Please,” he said quietly, and then added, “You’ve worked for Bastien for…how long now?”

“Eight years,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Right. Eight years. And he says you’re one of the best employees he’s ever had. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You just told me not five minutes ago that he told you to bite me,” she pointed out dryly.

“Yes, but he didn’t think it would hurt you, or that you’d even remember it. I was supposed to wipe it from your memory.”

She snorted at that.

“Look, Inez. If you don’t come with me and let me explain things, he’s going to send over someone to clean up this mess.”

Inez frowned at the door. “Clean up this mess?”

“Yes. He’ll send an immortal to come here and remove this incident from your memory.”

“Like you were supposed to do?” she asked dryly.

“Yes.”

She ignored the fear that quivered through her at the thought and said, “You couldn’t do it. What makes you think anyone else could?”

“I’ll explain that too, but we really don’t have time right this minute. I have to head to the airport. So make up your mind. Do we wait here for someone to come remove this whole incident from your memory, or do you come with me, memory intact and perfectly safe?”

Inez hesitated, considering her alternatives, and then Thomas added, “If they remove your memory, they’ll probably remove the memory of everything from the day you were promoted on. You’ll go back to being whatever you were before being promoted to vice president.”

“What?” she squawked with dismay. While Inez wasn’t completely sure she wanted the job anymore, she wasn’t sure she wanted to give it up either. This whole working for and with a nest of vampires rather sullied things. But Inez had worked for Argeneau Enterprises for eight years and enjoyed her greatest triumphs there. She’d also worked long and hard for that promotion. She’d neglected her own social life, forsaking dates for work and pouring all her energy and time into it, building a career and climbing the corporate ladder to her vice presidency. She’d worked too damned hard and given up too much to let anyone take it away.

“That’s the only alternative,” Thomas explained. “Either you come with me to Amsterdam and allow me to explain things, or we wait here for Wyatt to come wipe everything from your memory.”

“But just the memory of the bite,” she protested. “He wouldn’t—”

“He’ll wipe everything from the last few months,” Thomas responded firmly. “Bastien was supposed to explain about our people to you when you were promoted. In fact, you shouldn’t have been promoted without it. You were sent to New York to be told about us. If you’d been able to accept it and agreed to keep the secret, you would have been promoted. If you hadn’t, what he’d told you would have been wiped from your memory and you wouldn’t ever have been promoted.

“Unfortunately,” he added dryly, “Bastien was a bit distracted at the time. He’d just met his lifemate and there was a lot going on. He promoted you, but sent you back to England without doing the rest of it. Wyatt was supposed to keep you from any jobs or information that might give us away until Bastien could fly to England and take care of you. If you can’t accept us and our explanations, Wyatt will wipe everything from your memory, including your promotion.”

Thomas let that sink in and then said, “So what is it going to be? Are you going to fly to Amsterdam with me and allow me to explain? Or do we wait for Wyatt, let him wipe your memory and return you to whatever job you had before the promotion?” He waited a beat, and then added, “At least until they find another job for you and remove you from the company altogether.”

Inez didn’t have to think long. Her career had become her life. She wouldn’t give it up easily. In fact, they’d have to take the key to the vice president’s office from her dead, clutching fingers before she’d give it up. Still, she hesitated, her eyes on the doorknob, but her fingers refusing to reach for it.

Finally, she raised her hand to her throat. A golden cross hung from a fine gold chain around her neck. It had been blessed by the pope during a trip to Italy. It should have double power, but had been tucked inside her blouse when Thomas had bit her. Now, she pulled it out and held it up before her like a shield with her left hand as she unlocked the door and tugged it open with her right.

“Back up, Nosferatu!” Inez snapped, covering her fear with anger as she glared at Thomas. Much to her relief, he backed up at once.

His hands were raised—the cell phone in one—in a gesture that might be used to soothe a wild horse, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“I knew you’d come out,” Thomas said, and much to her amazement he sounded proud, as if she’d done something praiseworthy instead of incredibly stupid.

“Tell Bastien not to send Wyatt. We’re on our way to the airport,” she ordered, holding the cross higher.

Nodding, he raised the phone to his ear. “We’re on our way. Make sure there are tickets waiting for both of us.”

Thomas didn’t wait for Bastien to respond, but then snapped the phone closed and turned away to head through the dining room.

Inez hesitated, and then moved quickly back into the bedroom to snatch up her purse before moving more slowly—and cautiously—back through the hall and into the dining room, holding the cross out in front of her as she walked into the living room. Spotting him by the love seat, she positioned herself by the door of the suite and silently watched as he gathered his knapsack and shoved his binder and pen into a side pocket, then moved to join her. The moment he headed in her direction, she skittered backward, reaching behind her with her free hand to open the door. She then preceded him out into the hall, never turning her back to him.

“You can stop flashing that at me,” Thomas said calmly. “You’re kind of drawing attention holding it up like that.”

Inez quickly glanced in both directions to see that there was a maid and two couples in the hall, all staring at them curiously, and did lower the cross closer to her chest. She didn’t release it, however, but held it tightly in her sweaty hand in case he suddenly pounced.

Heaving out a sigh, Thomas gestured for her to precede him down the hall. “After you.”

“No,” Inez said, and then cleared her throat and said more firmly, “After you.”

Thomas shrugged and led the way to the elevator. She followed at a safe distance, watching narrow-eyed as he nodded at the first couple they passed in the hall. Inez hardly even glanced toward them herself, her attention wholly focused on Thomas as he led her to join the older couple waiting by the elevator.

“That’s a lovely cross, dear.”

Inez glanced nervously to the older woman who had spoken. She managed a weak smile and then glanced sharply back to Thomas as she said, “It was blessed by the pope.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow at the claim and asked with interest, “Which one? The new one or the one before him?”

Inez hesitated, wondering if one had been holier than the other, and then lied and covered her basis by saying, “Both.”

Thomas gave a little laugh and shook his head, murmuring, “It’s going to be a long trip,” as the doors opened and he followed the older couple on board the elevator.

Inez followed, thinking that he was right. She felt like she’d aged ten years in the last few minutes. It was going to be a long flight indeed.

They rode down to the main floor and crossed the lobby in silence. It wasn’t until Inez had followed Thomas into the back of a taxi that he spoke again, and then it was to mutter, “We’ll have to buy you some perfume when we get to the airport.”

Inez’s eyes sharpened on him suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I can smell your fear, Inez, and it’s making me want to kiss and comfort you,” he admitted easily.

Inez’s eyes widened, her mind dragging up memories of his arms around her, his mouth on hers, the passion coursing through her as he’d kissed and caressed her and then the overwhelming pleasure and excitement as he’d bit her. She was hard-pressed not to slide across the seat and plaster herself to him as the memories assaulted her. She’d enjoyed his touch and even his bite until she’d realized he was biting her.

Shaking away the memories, Inez focused on him again, suspecting he was somehow putting those thoughts and sensations in her mind, somehow making her want him. This was a much more dangerous trip than she’d first realized.

“London Gatwick Airport,” Thomas instructed the driver and Inez watched him silently as she sank back in her seat. When she saw him inhale, his nose quivering slightly, she frowned and wondered if he still smelled fear, or if he could differentiate that from the desire that had shot through her as she recalled their earlier embrace. When she saw the small smile that tugged at his lips and noted that his eyes—normally a beautiful silver blue—now flared more silver, as if filled with fire, she felt herself blush, sure he had picked up on her desire.

Her eyes widened with alarm when Thomas eased a little closer on the seat until his hand brushed lightly against the side of her upper thigh. The light touch immediately sent up a clamoring in her body that was alarming in its strength.

“Get your soulless butt back on the other side of the seat,” she hissed, glancing nervously at the back of the driver’s head. Surely he wouldn’t try to bite her right here with the driver in front of them?

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I thought…”

Thomas didn’t finish the sentence, but moved away and turned his head to peer out the window, as if he was trying to ignore her presence in the car. She decided to wait until they reached the airport to ask for the explanations he’d promised her. For now she was content to let him ignore her. It was incredibly disturbing to realize she was lusting after a dead, soulless thing.

Frowning, Inez peered over him, taking in his strong, pale features. He wasn’t pale like the dead, but pale like a man who spent little time out in the sun. There was a healthy pink glow to his cheeks and she wondered grimly if it was her blood that had given it to him.

She stiffened as his nose quivered again and he glanced her way so that she caught a glimpse of the silver fire in his eyes. Inez shrank back into the cushioned seat, feeling like a cornered cat. Fortunately, he immediately turned his gaze away again and she was able to relax a little.

Watching him warily, she decided his idea hadn’t been a bad one. The first thing she was going to do when they reached the airport, was visit duty free and buy a bottle of perfume. Inez didn’t want him being able to tell what she was feeling. Especially when she was beginning to experience more desire than fear now that they were out in the relative safety of the public. Yes, she was definitely buying perfume. It would be easier to ignore her desire if he wasn’t so obviously aware of it.

Four

Thomas was twisted around in his seat, watching a group of rowdy Brits at the back of the plane with fascination. They were all men, but one of them was in a short nurse’s costume with pink fishnet nylons covering his hairy legs, a blond wig, high heels, and a very bad makeup job on his bearded face. He also wore a piece of paper taped to his back that read I’m getting married. Kick me.

The rest of the men in the group were all laughing and taunting the groom-to-be, and every one of them seemed to be three sheets to the wind. It was obviously a stag party on the way to Amsterdam to kick it up for the weekend, and Thomas shook his head, wondering why they didn’t do things like that in Canada. He’d have taken great enjoyment in seeing Lucern dressed like that. Not that he’d probably agree to do it.

Thomas was smiling faintly at the idea, when Inez suddenly said, “Explain now.”

Sighing, he gave up watching the group milling about the back of the plane. The stewardess was having trouble keeping the half a dozen or so men in their seats. They kept stumbling into the aisles to talk to the others in their group. The men weren’t being rude or annoying, and most of the passengers were watching their performance with amusement, but they were keeping the stewardesses busy.

Turning back in his seat, he glanced at Inez, noting that she wasn’t wearing the indulgent amusement of most of the rest of the plane. Instead she was watching him with narrow-eyed displeasure.

Sighing, he glanced around at the people seated around them, and then shook his head. “I can’t. There are too many people here.”

That just made her sweet little mouth compress a bit tighter and her eyes go cold. The woman was a bundle of passions—one moment angry, the next flaming with desire. His senses were alert to every change, reading the scents rolling off of her in waves and fluctuating between desire and guilt as her mood changed.

Inez had headed straight for the duty-free shop once they’d checked in at the airport and purchased a bottle of Paris. Unfortunately, they hadn’t given her the perfume then, but told her she could collect it when she boarded the plane.

Inez hadn’t been pleased. Trying to distract her, Thomas had steered her to a small pub-and-grill in the airport waiting area and they’d both ordered and eaten a meal.

Inez had been openly surprised that he ate food. Thomas had been a little surprised himself. Not so much because he was eating, but because of how enjoyable it was for a change. He’d grown tired of food the last decade or so, finding it all tasted the same and was something of a bother, but that meal in the restaurant had been bursting with flavor and texture and he’d gobbled it up with relish. Thomas knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Eating and enjoying food was one of the signs of finding a lifemate, as was not being able to read the individual. It seemed there was little question that Inez was his lifemate.

While her curiosity had been obvious, the loud talking and music in the establishment had prevented her questioning him. Not eager to start into explanations, Thomas had insisted on remaining there until they were called to board. Inez had been given the bag with her purchase of Paris when they boarded, but had merely tucked it away in her purse rather than use it in such an enclosed space.

Thomas was kind of glad about that. While the roller coaster her emotions were taking was forcing him to roller coaster with her, he was enjoying the ride. After decades of experiencing little in the way of emotional stimulation, he was eating up the highs and even the lows, enjoying each nuance. Although, the truth was, he was enjoying her passion more. Thomas’s interest in women had started to wane of late as he grew bored with even sex. It was the thing that had bothered him most over the last few decades.

“Thomas?”

Hearing the annoyance in her voice, he realized he was just staring at her, unspeaking as his thoughts crowded in his mind. Now, he cleared his throat and said, “Not here. We’ll be overheard.”

“You said we would be in public all the time so I would feel safe while you explained,” she pointed out grimly. “If you can’t explain in public, how—”

“All right,” Thomas said at once, ending her irritation. He glanced around again, relieved to see that everyone seemed to be paying attention to the men at the back of the plane, and then turned back to her. Thomas hesitated and then reached out and caught her cross in his hand. As she watched wide-eyed, he closed his fingers around it, holding it for a moment, and then opened his hand to reveal the golden pendant lying in his unharmed hand.

“The cross didn’t keep me from harming you, Inez. I did. You are safe with me,” he said quietly, then smiled wryly and added, “And the Caeser’s salad with extra garlic that you ordered at the airport restaurant was completely unnecessary. Garlic does not harm us either.”

She flushed at his words, but didn’t say anything.

Releasing the cross, Thomas continued, “We aren’t dead. We aren’t soulless. We aren’t cursed.”

Her eyes widened with each claim. “Well then, how—”

Thomas held up a hand and she immediately fell silent. Nodding approval, he said, “I’m going to tell you a story.”

Inez tsked with irritation. “I don’t want to hear a story. I want—”

“Work with me here, Inez,” he said with exasperation and gestured to the people around them.

She glanced around, noting that while no one appeared to be glancing their way, they were certainly close enough to hear. Biting her lip, she nodded in understanding. “Tell me the story.”

“I was reading this book about Atlantis,” he began, peering at her meaningfully.

Her eyes widened, but she remained silent.

“In this book, Atlantis was an isolated civilization that held a much more advanced society than the rest of the world at that time. More advanced than even we are now.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly.

“And in Atlantis, scientists discovered a way to combine bioengineering and nano technology to create little nanos that could be shot into a mortal’s blood stream and carried through the body where they repaired damage and killed off illness in the individual as well as regenerated new cells where necessary. These nanos were programmed to shut down and disintegrate once the repairs were made.”

Inez nodded her understanding, her expression fascinated.

“But what the scientists hadn’t taken into account was that the mortal body suffers constant damage from sunlight, the environment and even aging, so the nanos never shut down, but continue to repair and regenerate, even replicating themselves to continue the work they had been programmed to do.”

“So you—”

Thomas caught her hand, bringing her to silence so he could continue. “These nanos, however, use more blood than a mortal can produce. In Atlantis, this wasn’t a problem. They had blood banks and those mortals in Atlantis who were now immortals, because the nanos kept their bodies at the peak stage between about twenty-five and thirty-two years old, were simply given transfusions every morning.”

“Where did they get the blood?” Inez asked.

“From mortals,” Thomas answered, and then explained, “Not everyone in Atlantis had these nanos in them. I don’t know the exact sequence of events or how many it was tested on before they realized the nanos weren’t dying off as expected. All I know is that my father’s parents were among those who had the experimental treatment before it was stopped. It’s how they met. And then, of course, all their children were infected, the nanos passed into them through their mother.”

“I see,” Inez murmured. “And these nanos gave them fangs and—”

“No. They had no fangs in Atlantis. As I said, they had blood banks and got transfusions. The fangs weren’t necessary…but then the day came when Atlantis fell.”

“Fell?” she asked curiously.

Thomas nodded. “It was a combination of earthquake and a volcanic eruption or something. Atlantis fell into the sea, I think. Anyway, most if not all of the mortals were killed in the fall, and even some immortals, but some managed to escape and survive. They spread out over the face of the earth, but what they found was that while their society had been sheltered by the mountains surrounding it and their people had advanced, the rest of the world was way behind them technologically. Primitive even.” He cleared his throat, and added, “This was around 1500…BC.”

Her eyes widened incredulously. “What?”

When he simply nodded solemnly, Inez frowned in response. “But that means they were worlds ahead of the rest of the world. Why? How?”

Thomas shrugged. “They stuck to their own and didn’t share their technology.”

“But why?” she repeated. “Why stay so isolated? Why did they never travel beyond the mountains surrounding them? If they were as advanced as that, surely they had the ability.”

“I’m sure they did,” Thomas agreed and then shrugged. “But I don’t know why they remained so isolated. My cousin once said something about an age-old feud with a neighboring clan and a peace treaty guaranteeing that neither people would cross the border of the mountains separating them.”

“But they did when Atlantis fell?” she murmured and he nodded.

Inez considered that and then asked, “How did they survive when they suddenly found themselves without the blood banks and so on?”

Thomas saw the realization on her face even as she asked the question, but answered anyway, “At first it was bad. They needed blood, but had no way to get it. There were no blood banks outside Atlantis. But the nano’s job was to do what was necessary to repair and regenerate the body and they needed blood to do it.” He shrugged. “Their response was to make the teeth come on, I guess. Plus, the survivors also became faster, and stronger, and able to see better in the dark.”

“Why the dark?” Inez asked at once. “If you aren’t cursed and soulless, why can you not walk in sunlight?”

“They can,” Thomas said, as he glanced nervously around to be sure none of their flight mates were paying attention. “They can walk in sunlight, but sunlight does the worst damage to the body, which means they have to consume more blood. They avoid sunlight to avoid the necessity of feeding more often.”

When she frowned, he added, “Mortals weren’t too happy to be considered cattle by immortals. Many Atlanteans were killed or at least injured horribly when they were discovered feeding on mortals. It was better for them to avoid sunlight as much as possible and live, sleep, and hunt under cover of night. Of course, the other abilities help with that.”

“Being faster, stronger, and having night vision?”

“That and the ability to read and control the minds of mortals, as well as erase their memories so that they don’t feel the pain of the feeding or recall it afterward. If not for that, it would be impossible to hide their existence. They would be hunted and eventually eradicated,” he said quietly and then pointed out, “Mortals could defeat us—I mean, them, by sheer numbers alone.”

She frowned, opened her mouth, then closed it and leaned forward to whisper, “But you didn’t erase my memory.”

“No,” Thomas agreed quietly. He could see the question in her eyes, but shook his head. He wasn’t explaining that to her here. He wasn’t at all sure how she’d take the news that she was his lifemate and he didn’t want her freaking out on the plane. Trying to steer her away from that subject, he said, “The older ones prefer being called immortals to vampire, though they aren’t completely immortal. They can die, but not from illness, and not even by most injuries.”

“How?” she asked.

Thomas hesitated. What she was asking was a dangerous question to answer. If she decided she didn’t think mortals should have to suffer immortals living amongst them, she could use this information to hurt them. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read her mind, so couldn’t gauge how she was accepting this information. She didn’t look as afraid as she had. In fact, if anything, Inez appeared more fascinated than anything else…. Still…

“Is it the stake in the heart like the mythological vampire?” she asked abruptly.

“That can stop the heart,” he admitted carefully.

Her eyebrows drew together. “But it won’t kill them.”

“Not if it is removed quickly enough,” he admitted.

“Then, how—”

“The only thing you need to know is that now that there are blood banks again, they do not need to hunt to feed,” he said quietly.

“But you bit me.”

Thomas glanced around again. No one seemed to be paying attention, but as he turned back toward Inez he glimpsed the woman in the seat in front of Inez through the slight gap between the two seats before them. The woman’s head was turned sideways, her ear close to the gap. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on her thoughts, relieved to be able to read them until he realized she had indeed been listening avidly. And she suspected it wasn’t just a story he was telling Inez. Thomas immediately began erasing her memories, replacing them with the thought that she’d slept through the whole flight. He then took a moment to put her to sleep for the rest of the flight before turning back to Inez.

She was glancing between him and the seats before them with suspicion. “What did you just do?”

“I bit you because the cooler of blood Bastien was having sent to me at the Dorchester hadn’t yet arrived,” he said in a near whisper, ignoring her question. “I was distracted by my worry for Aunt Marguerite on the flight to England yesterday and only had one bag of blood. Bastien was concerned about my getting on the flight hungry and possibly being tempted to feed from someone at the airport or on the plane and being discovered.”

“How much blood do you normally have to have a day?” Inez asked in a whisper, a frown on her face.

“Three or four bags as a rule,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Three or four bags?” she asked with amazement. “That’s like what? Three or four pints?”

“Something like that,” he muttered with a shrug.

“You had one bag yesterday and none today, so you were about seven pints low when you bit me?” she asked.

“Something like that,” Thomas repeated uncomfortably.

Inez stared at him for a minute and then said with certainty, “You didn’t take that much from me. The human body only holds something like eight pints of blood, doesn’t it?”

“No, I didn’t take that much from you,” he agreed. He had no idea how much blood the average person had in them. It wasn’t something he normally considered.

“What happens when you don’t get enough blood?”

Thomas hesitated and then admitted, “The nanos will leave the blood stream and go into the organs and skin in search of more blood to fuel them.”

“Is it painful?” she asked, her expression solemn.

“Like acid traveling through your body,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Afraid of misjudging and taking too much blood after so long without feeding off the hoof, Thomas hadn’t taken much blood from Inez at all…just enough to soothe the worst of the cramps at the time. It hadn’t taken long for his body to run through the small amount he’d consumed and the pain and cramps of hunger had quickly returned. They’d grown more unbearable with the passing time, but he’d mostly managed to ignore it by distracting himself with the sights and sounds around them. However, now that they were discussing the subject, he was having trouble ignoring the pain. It would be a great relief when they reached the hotel in Amsterdam and he could raid the cooler of blood Bastien had promised to have waiting there.

Inez worried her lip as she peered at Thomas, her feelings pitched somewhere between relief and worry. She was very relieved to know that he wasn’t some soulless, dead, bloodsucker like the fictional Dracula and his cohorts. That would have been a nightmare. She couldn’t have accepted that even to keep her job. But the rosy cheeks she’d noted after he’d bitten her had been a temporary state. Staring at him as she had in the taxi, Inez had actually been able to see the pink glow fade from his cheeks during the hour-long ride to Gatwick Airport. By the time they’d arrived and checked in at the terminal, there was no glow left and he’d been terribly pale…unhealthily so.

Inez hadn’t been too concerned at the time, but now that she understood just what he was she was beginning to be concerned. From what he’d explained, it seemed obvious that Thomas was really not much different than herself and other mortals…except that he had a certain longevity. He did have some special abilities that most humans didn’t have; the added strength and speed he’d spoken of, the ability to see better in the dark, and the fangs of course. But he also had some rather terrible weaknesses, even afflictions. The man couldn’t survive long without blood without suffering terrible pain. She could see the lines of pain gathering around his mouth and eyes. The first of those lines had begun to appear shortly after they’d arrived at the airport and had become more obvious by the time they’d boarded the plane.

Much to her shame, they hadn’t concerned her overly much at the time. She’d rather thought it served him right since her neck was still a bit tender to the touch, but now that he’d explained how he was the way he was…

Inez stared at him silently, fighting the urge to offer to let him bite her again. Had it been a wholly altruistic urge, she might not have fought it so hard. She did hate to see others in pain, and really now that he’d explained, she wasn’t so angry about his biting her. She didn’t care for the idea of being “cattle” for an immortal as he’d put it, but it was really no different than donating blood to the blood bank, or for a friend. Except for the delivery of it…and therein lay the problem and the reason she was struggling with the offer. It wasn’t wholly altruistic. Inez had enjoyed the experience; his kisses, his touch, his scent, the passion that had flooded her, and part of her was eager to experience it all again.

If this was how she was going to react to the man biting her, she really needed to work on getting herself a social life, Inez thought with self-disgust. Obviously her lack of one had made her desperate if she was willing to be bitten just to enjoy the passion that went along with it.

She heard Thomas take in a deep breath and glanced his way to see that he was letting it out slowly through his nose. Inez recognized at once that it was an effort to ease the pain he was suffering and opened her mouth, the offer to let him bite her again trembling on her tongue when the seat belt sign suddenly came back on.

“We’re losing altitude,” Thomas said as he did up his seat belt. “We’ll be landing soon.”

Inez closed her mouth on the offer she’d been about to make and quickly ducked her head to peer around for her seat belt. There was no need to make the offer if they were nearly there. Part of her was relieved. Another part was disappointed indeed.

Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam was just as busy as Gatwick had been, but Thomas had less patience for it. The crowds shifting around him ramped up the cramps he was suffering. Eager to escape the press of bodies, he rushed Inez through the airport to platform one, relieved when he saw that a train was pulling in. Pausing at a ticket machine, he waited impatiently for the young man already there to finish his purchase, then bought their tickets and hurried Inez onto the train, boarding just before the doors closed.

The main floor was three-quarters full, crowded to Thomas in his state of mind. When Inez moved toward a pair of empty seats along one wall, he urged her past them and to a set of stairs leading to the second level. As he’d hoped, the upper compartment was much less busy. Thomas steered Inez to an empty table for two and dropped his knapsack on the floor by his feet as he sat down.

“I’m surprised Bastien didn’t arrange for a car to collect us,” Inez said with a breathless laugh as she dropped into her own seat.

“He offered to,” Thomas admitted. “But the train is probably faster. Besides there isn’t a lot of car traffic in Amsterdam. Most people walk or travel by bike. We’ll take the train into the city, and then catch a tram to the hotel.”

Inez nodded, her gaze sliding out the window to watch the passing scenery as they moved out of the train station. There wasn’t much to see. It was night, and dark with a scattering of lights. That was all. Apparently no more enchanted by the sight than he’d expect her to be, she turned back to glance at him and asked curiously, “Have you been to Amsterdam before?”

Thomas nodded. “Many times. You?”

The way she quickly shook her head made him smile and he suggested, “Scared off by its reputation?”

Inez smiled wryly and nodded.

“It isn’t what it’s famous for,” Thomas told her quietly.

Inez tilted her head and raised her eyebrows dubiously. “Pot isn’t legal here and there is no Red Light District?”

“Well, yes, and yes,” he admitted with a grin. “But that’s just one aspect of the city. It’s really a lovely place. There aren’t a lot of cars in the city. Most people walk or bike around, and then there are the trams and buses. The lack of cars keep the pollution down and the buildings are older than you’ll find in London, very picturesque. I think you’ll like it.”

“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally.

Thomas nodded and glanced out the window, then back to her to say, “Bastien was having some clothes and necessities delivered to the hotel for you.”

When her eyebrows rose, he shrugged. “I reminded him that you would be flying without luggage.”

“That was thoughtful,” she said quietly, her expression solemn.

Thomas waved the compliment away and said lightly, “I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed and he was made uncomfortable by how seriously she said so. He was made even more uncomfortable when she asked, “How old are you?”

Thomas grimaced. Because of the way Bastien and Lucern always treated him, he usually felt like the baby in the family even though his sister Jeanne Louise was younger. Now, however, knowing that Inez couldn’t be more than thirty, he was embarrassed by how old he was. Finally, he simply said, “I’m old.”

“How old?” Inez persisted and then grinned and explained, “I only ask because they say men become more considerate as they get older and you’re very considerate.”

“No more than most men,” he argued, and she snorted with derision at the words.

“Thomas, you are definitely much more considerate than every other man I’ve met in my life.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she began counting facts off on her fingers. “First you drew me that bath and ordered me tea and breakfast when you found out I had rushed out to collect you without, and now you’ve seen to it that I am not without clothes while here in Amsterdam. You always take my arm to walk me about, open doors for me, and—aside from the jog through Schiphol airport—generally measure your stride to mine,” she pointed out and then arched one eyebrow and said, “If consideration in men is commensurate with age, that must mean you’re at least a thousand years old.”

Thomas smiled at her teasing. “I was raised by my Aunt Marguerite. Her daughter, Lissianna, and I are only four years apart. They taught me consideration.”

“How old?” she insisted.

He frowned, briefly searching for a way to change the subject without answering, and then realized that if she was going to be his lifemate, he’d have to fess up to his age at some point and reluctantly admitted, “I was born in 1794.”

Inez blinked at this news, stared at him for a moment, and then blinked again before finally asking with disbelief, “Seventeen? Seventeen hundred and ninety-four? You’re over two hundred years old?”

“Old, huh?” he asked apologetically.

Inez was silent for a moment and then sat back in her seat and tried for a nonchalant shrug and simply said, “Well, two hundred is better than six hundred.”

“That would be my cousin, Lucern,” Thomas said, glancing out the window again as the lights outside began to grow in number.

“Your cousin is six hundred?” Inez asked with disbelief.

Thomas smiled at her horror and nodded, then collected his bag and stood up. “Come on, we’re here.”

He led her off the train and to the ticket and info office to buy them both passes for Amsterdam’s public transport.

Once they were on the bus headed for the Amstel Hotel, Thomas pulled out his cell phone to call Herb. He planned to check in to the hotel, down two or three bags of blood, and then head right out to try to find Aunt Marguerite. To do so, he’d need the coordinates for where she was. He hoped if he called Herb now, by the time they’d checked in and he’d fed, Herb would have Marguerite’s present coordinates for him.

Thomas watched Inez as he waited for his call to be answered. She was busy taking in everything, her eyes flying over the older buildings and the walking people, and he wished he could read her mind to see what she was thinking. Amsterdam was one of his favorite cities in the world, and he was curious to see if she would like it.

He let his curiosity go and turned his attention to his phone as his call was answered. Inez seemed enraptured by the passing scenery, so he was taken by surprise when he finished his call and hung up and she suddenly turned back to him and asked, “Who is Herb?”

“He’s a friend,” he answered as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “He’s the one who tracked Aunt Marguerite’s cell phone here to Amsterdam.”

“And he’s tracking it again now?” Inez asked.

“Yes. I want to head out and look for her as soon as we’re checked in. It takes a few minutes to track the cell, so I thought if I had him start on it now, he’d have the new coordinates when I’m ready.”

Inez accepted that with a nod and then asked, “Why couldn’t you read my mind or erase my memory?”

Wholly unprepared for the question, Thomas found his tongue suddenly glued to the roof of his mouth.

“You said that the nanos allowed you to read the minds of others, control them, and even wipe away the memory of what had occurred, but at the hotel you said you couldn’t erase my memories,” she pointed out. “Why?”

Thomas let his breath out slowly. He hadn’t expected this to become an issue so soon. He’d hoped to have a little time to woo her before approaching the subject of lifemates and so on. He somehow didn’t think Inez was ready for that discussion.

Immortals quickly accepted that the person they couldn’t read was their lifemate and acted accordingly. Mortals, on the other hand, were a bit trickier. Some accepted the idea of being a lifemate without difficulty, others didn’t seem to trust the idea and needed a long courtship, while still others simply wanted nothing to do with immortals or being one of them. He couldn’t just announce that they were lifemates and expect her to go along with it. Thomas wasn’t yet sure the news would be well received, and would rather avoid the conversation until he had some idea how she would take it. Would she be horrified by the very thought of being his mate? He, himself, rather liked the idea that she was his mate and found himself warming to it more with every passing moment they spent together, but how would she feel about it? She was no longer staring at him as if he was the Devil’s spawn, but that didn’t mean she would agree to settle down and play house with him…for the next several centuries.

“Thomas?” she asked insistently.

He opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a thing to say to change the subject. His gaze slid desperately out the window and his breath whooshed out with relief as a bell rang. “We’re here.”

Standing abruptly as the bus slowed to a stop, he hurried off the vehicle, for once not taking her arm to usher her along. She was right behind him, however, and he almost laughed out loud when she muttered, “Saved by the bell,” in sour tones.

Schooling his features into a suitably innocent expression, Thomas took her arm to lead her into the hotel. She walked along docilely enough until they stepped through the front doors. Then she came to an abrupt halt and simply stared around the huge lobby. Despite having been there before, Thomas paused and peered around with her.

Built in 1867, the hotel was stately and elegant. It had a large white lobby, the center stretching up two floors with a carved wooden staircase leading up to the secondfloor balcony with its arches, columns, and carved railings. It was all quite impressive, Thomas thought as he took Inez’s arm to lead her to reception. He checked them in, politely refused help with his bag, and then led her to the elevator.

“So?” Inez said as soon as the doors closed on them. “Why couldn’t you read me or erase my memories?”

“Who says I couldn’t?” Thomas muttered evasively, dismayed by her persistence. “Maybe I just didn’t want to.”

“I heard you talking to Bastien through the bathroom door. You said you couldn’t erase my memories. Besides, everything would have been a lot simpler for you if you’d just made me forget everything that had happened. So, why couldn’t you read me or erase my memories? Are there many you can’t do that with?”

Thomas grimaced, wishing she’d forgotten her question at least until after he’d got to his room and consumed a couple bags of blood and his brain was in better working order again.

“Thomas?” she asked insistently.

“No, there aren’t many mortals an immortal can’t read, control, or wipe memories from,” he admitted grimly.

“But you couldn’t do any of those things with me?” Inez asked with a frown.

Thomas nodded, his eyes slipping to the elevator lights. They were almost to their floor.

“But you said Wyatt could and Bastien would send him over to do it for you if I didn’t come with you to Amsterdam and allow you to explain,” she pointed out and then asked, “Is Wyatt an older, stronger vampire? Is that why you thought he could do it when you couldn’t?”

Before Thomas was forced to come up with a lie, they arrived at their floor and the elevator doors opened. Nearly gasping with relief, he hurried off the elevator, glanced at the sign pointing out the direction to take to reach their room numbers, and hurried that way.

“You really aren’t comfortable with this conversation are you?” Inez asked dryly as she hurried up the hall behind him.

Thomas knew he was being rude not measuring his pace to hers, but he was almost desperate to get to their suite. He was sure if he could just slap a bag or two of blood to his teeth his mind would clear and he would know exactly what to say about lifemates and that she was his own.

He’d just stopped in front of the door to their suite when his phone began to ring. Tugging it from his pocket, he handed it to Inez.

“Say hello to Bastien,” he growled, turning his attention to unlocking the door as she flipped the phone open.

“Hello, Bastien,” Inez said cheerfully. “Why can’t Thomas read my mind or control me and why is he so rattled by the question?”

The door clicked open, but Thomas hardly noticed, his attention had turned to Inez. The woman’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. She was aware of and enjoying his discomfort over the matter. Women! He would never understand them. They were supposed to be the softer sex yet took great pleasure in tormenting a man.

Leaving her to follow as she liked, he strode into the room, relief pouring through him the moment he spotted the A.B.B. cooler on the table in the sitting room of the suite.

Thomas felt his teeth shift and slide out in his mouth as he strode quickly across the floor to the cooler. Flipping the lid open, he reached in, grabbed a bag, and promptly popped it to his teeth. The bag was nearly empty, the blood soaking into his system and easing the cramps at once when he realized Inez had gone very quiet. Suddenly anxious, he turned with the bag at his mouth and peered toward her. She had followed him into the room and now stood by the sofa, her expression grim as she listened to whatever Bastien was saying. Obviously, she wasn’t pleased at his explanation of lifemates, or perhaps she wasn’t pleased that she was his lifemate.

Shoulders slumping, Thomas turned back to the cooler and pulled out a second bag, holding it in his hand as he waited for the one in his mouth to finish draining. He was about to switch bags when Inez suddenly appeared at his side.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said, holding out the phone.

Thomas pulled the now empty bag from his mouth, dropped it on to the table, and reached for the phone.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Nodding, Inez turned and moved off, heading straight for the door leading into the rest of the suite. No doubt in search of her room, he realized with worry. Her expression had been terribly solemn when she’d handed him the phone, all the amusement drained from it. In fact, she’d looked rather pale to his mind. Now he really wanted to know what Bastien had told her.

Sighing, he lifted the phone to his ear, his eyes slipping to the full bag of blood he still held. He absently read the label on the blood as he opened his mouth to say hello, and then stiffened, dropped the full bag to the floor, and reached for the empty one on the table, reading that label with growing horror.

“Thomas? Thomas are you there?” Bastien was asking over the phone.

“Oh shit!” was his answer.

Five

It was only nine o’clock at night, but Inez was exhausted by the events of the day when she entered the first bedroom of the suite and peered curiously around.

Thomas had said that Bastien was arranging to have some clothes there for her, but she didn’t see any evidence of that. The room was neat and tidy and absent of anything personal that she could see. Inez was about to back out of the room, when she suddenly thought to check the closet.

Crossing the room, she opened the first door she came to and found herself peering into a huge, beautiful bathroom. She spotted the toiletries at once and moved forward, her eyes sweeping over the items lined up on the marble countertop. There were at least three lipsticks in varying shades and a mirage of other cosmetic items, half of which she didn’t even recognize.

Inez had never bothered much with makeup; a bit of face powder, a little lipstick, maybe some blush, and she was good to go. She rarely bothered with eyeliner, and shadow, and all the other things she saw laying there, at least not for work. Still, they’d been provided, as had a brush, a comb, and various hair supplies. Anything she might want appeared to be there all lined up and ready for use.

Turning away, Inez moved back into the bedroom and found the closet, not terribly surprised to open it and find the hangers full of clothes, including a couple of nightgowns and a robe. A quick check reassured her that they were all in her size. Stepping back, she glanced down to see a variety of shoes; slippers, running shoes, casual shoes, and high heels. Something for every occasion.

Shaking her head, she turned away and moved to the drawer beside the bed, nodding when opening it revealed a selection of panties, bras, socks, and stockings.

Inez didn’t bother to check their sizes, knowing they would all be her size too. Bastien Argeneau was a man with an attention to detail. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear he had the size and color preferences of every member of his staff on file somewhere, just in case. It was either that, or the man had sent someone from the company to get her landlord to let him into her flat to check the sizes on her clothing.

Inez turned to survey the filled closet again and shook her head. There were enough clothes there for a two-week stay, but then the Argeneaus didn’t do anything by halves.

Sighing, Inez sat on the side of the bed and then fell back on it and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, she was also still annoyed. The clothes and other goodies had not lifted her mood. Bastien had refused to explain why Thomas couldn’t read or control her, insisting it was something Thomas would have to explain himself when he was ready. But from his reaction to her questions, she suspected Thomas wouldn’t be ready to answer them for some time.

Inez grimaced. She had never been a very patient person, and hated feeling ignorant. Being left in the dark on this matter simply made her think it was important and something she really should know.

Frowning as she became aware of a pounding coming muffled from the next room, she stood and moved to the door to the sitting room, her eyes finding Thomas still standing by the table with the cooler on it. His back was to her and his shoulders hunched as he listened to whatever Bastien was saying on the phone and made notes on a notepad on the table.

Her gaze slid to the door to the hall as the pounding continued, and then back to Thomas, but if he heard, he didn’t care that there was someone at the door. He was now hissing rather urgently into the phone in tones too low for her to hear. Worried that Bastien may be giving him bad news about Marguerite, she frowned with concern and moved to the door to the suite to bring an end to the pounding. At this rate, whoever was at the door was going to have the people in the neighboring hotel rooms calling hotel security.

Irritated at that possibility, Inez was scowling when she opened the door. She only opened it a little ways, an effort to keep whoever it was from seeing Thomas, the cooler and the empty bag of blood. She didn’t want to upset housekeeping or whoever it was. However, the man on the other side of the door was already upset, his expression a strange mixture of worry, apology, and relief as she opened the door.

“Yes?” Inez asked, relaxing a little as her gaze slid over the black nylon jacket he wore with the A.B.B. logo on it. The same logo that was on the cooler he carried as well as the one on the table in front of Thomas. A.B.B., Argeneau Blood Bank; it was one of the companies under the Argeneau Enterprises umbrella. It was also a company she didn’t know much about. Inez had always been kept away from anything having to do with A.B.B. Now she understood why, of course.

Her gaze jerked back to the man’s face as a spate of Dutch was spat at her in anxious tones. Inez shook her head with a small frown. “I’m sorry, I don’t——”

“Ah! English.” The man nodded. “I have made a mistake. I delivered the blood here earlier.”

“You didn’t leave it with the front desk, did you?” Inez asked curiously, wondering how they would explain why a cooler of blood would be delivered to one of their hotel rooms.

The man blinked, obviously not expecting the question. Still, he answered, “No, of course not. I found out the room number, brought it up, and found a maid to let me in to leave it. But I made a mis—”

“Mind control?” Inez asked.

He peered at her, his expression confused.

“Did you use mind control on the maid to let you in?” she explained.

“Oh, yes,” he was frowning now, and becoming a bit annoyed. “But I left the wrong cooler. The one I left was to go to the Night Club.”

“The Night Club?” she asked curiously.

The man snapped his mouth closed and stared at her, and Inez blinked in surprise as she felt a slight ruffling on the edge of her mind. It was so faint that if the man weren’t concentrating so hard on her and she knew nothing about immortals and what they could do, she didn’t think she’d even have noticed it.

“You’re reading my mind,” Inez accused and then frowned. “But Thomas couldn’t read my mind.”

Whatever he read in her thoughts seemed to make him relax. He even smiled and said lightly, “Lucky him.”

“Why lucky?” she asked warily.

The man grinned and said simply, “Who would not think him lucky? He has found his lifemate.”

“Lifemate?” Inez echoed the word slowly. She’d heard the word before. Now that the man had said it, she distinctly recalled overhearing Thomas talking on the phone through the bathroom door and saying something about biting his lifemate. She tilted her head and asked the man, “Not being able to read me means I’m his lifemate?”

“Yes.” Now he was frowning too. “Has he not explained things to you?”

“No,” she admitted and glanced to where Thomas still stood talking into the phone before turning back and asking, “Do you think you could?”

He hesitated and then said, “It’s probably something he should explain.”

Inez scowled at the suggestion, knowing Thomas wouldn’t explain.

“Besides, I really have to trade coolers. The Night Club is waiting on this delivery. They were very upset that I got the coolers mixed up.”

Inez considered him silently as her business side-kicked in telling her that she had something he wanted and he had something she wanted.

Before she could speak, his eyes grew sharp and he threatened, “I could control you and move you out of the way to get what I want.”

Her eyebrows flew up. He’d obviously read her mind again, though Inez hadn’t noticed the earlier flutter again. She considered her options and then asked, “Can you control Thomas too?”

When he hesitated, she added, “I’m the vice president of the UK division of Argeneau Enterprises and we oversee all the European operations. In effect, I’m your boss.”

A slow admiring smile crossed his face. “You play hardball.”

“I didn’t get to be vice president by pussyfooting around,” she said with a shrug and then stood waiting anxiously as he decided whether he would take control of her, get what he needed, and get out—which she definitely didn’t think she’d like—or if he was going to answer her question.

Much to her relief, he gave a low chuckle and said, “Okay, guarantee I won’t get in trouble for this mix up and I’ll play. This could be interesting.”

Beaming at the man with gratitude and relief, Inez nodded. “Agreed. I’ll talk to your boss. Now, explain lifemates to me.”

He shifted the cooler he held from one hand to the other, and then said, “Lifemates are exactly what they sound like, a life partner, the one who matches you, whom you can live with and love and exist with happily.”

Inez frowned as she considered his words and then asked, “And not being able to read someone is how your kind recognize a lifemate?”

“We also start eating again, but not being able to read or control them is the most important attribute.”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

He frowned and then said slowly, “We can control and read most mortals. Actually, all mortals except for a lifemate.”

“All?” she asked with amazement.

“If you can’t read them, they are a lifemate,” he said simply. “For some that is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, others are lucky enough to find another if they lose the first, but there are often centuries between one and the other, centuries of being alone. It’s not a horrible circumstance, but it isn’t a happy one either. Everyone needs someone they can share the centuries with, someone with which to enjoy life’s pleasures and sorrows.”

“So,” Inez said slowly, “while Thomas can’t read or control me, every other immortal can?”

He nodded. “I could shut you down, move you out of the way, and wipe this from your memory if I liked.”

Inez cringed at the very idea. She was someone who liked to be in control at all times.

“I kind of picked that up about you right off,” he announced with a grin. “You have control issues.”

Inez scowled as she realized that he was still reading her mind despite her not sensing it. “Please stop reading my mind.”

“Sorry,” he said, however, there was little sincerity behind the words. “But that’s my point. If Thomas was able to do this to you…Well, it hardly makes for an equal relationship, does it? Even if an immortal cared for someone, it would be hard to resist the temptation to take control to get what you wanted when you wanted it. Those sorts of relationships don’t work. An immortal needs someone he can’t read and control and who can’t read and control him or her. It allows them to relax and let down their guards.”

“Guards?” Inez asked curiously.

“Immortals can often read other immortals too. It’s harder if the immortal is older than you, but if they get distracted, we can even read them. To prevent that, we have to put up guards in our minds and keep them up. But at home, with a lifemate who can’t read our thoughts, or control us, we can relax and not worry about such things.”

“So it’s better to be with someone who can’t read or control you,” she acknowledged, and then added, “But just because you can’t read or control them, doesn’t guarantee a happy relationship. What if you met someone you couldn’t read or control but who was completely unsuitable to you? What if their personality doesn’t suit yours?”

“That doesn’t happen,” he said with a shrug. “If you are lifemates, you will suit each other.”

Inez frowned at his simple assurance and said with disbelief, “Surely just because you can’t read each other doesn’t guarantee a happy relationship?”

“Yes, it does.” When her mouth pursed with disbelief, he assured her, “I am only a hundred years old, but I have never heard of any true lifemates who didn’t suit each other and have a happy union. Oh, certainly they have occasional disagreements, but that is it. They are made for each other.”

“But how is that possible?” Inez asked with amazement.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, not sounding too concerned. “Perhaps the nanos recognize something in the individual that compliments their immortal and prevents their being able to read or control the other so they can be happy together. Or perhaps God makes a perfect mate for each individual and then puts them in their path. I have no idea, but does it matter? Why question something if it works?”

“You believe in God?” she asked with surprise.

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Don’t you?”

Inez reached up unconsciously to clasp the cross around her neck and he smiled as if she’d spoken aloud and then said, “If you’re done with your questions, I really need to switch coolers and get the other one to the Night Club.”

Sighing, Inez nodded. “I’ll get it for you.”

Turning away from the door, she headed across the room. A million questions were running around inside her head, but she had some thinking to do before she would ask them, and if she asked them of anyone, she thought it should be Thomas. She understood enough now to be going on. Thomas couldn’t read her. That made them lifemates. Simple. No muss, no fuss.

Actually, it was the perfect arrangement for a woman who didn’t have time for a social life, Inez thought as she reached the table and the cooler sitting on it. She glanced to Thomas, opening her mouth to explain about the cooler and mix-up as she saw that he had apparently finished his conversation and was closing the phone, but before the first word was more than formed on her tongue, his phone was ringing again and he was returning it to his ear.

Shrugging, she picked up the bag that lay on the floor and replaced it in the cooler. She spotted the empty bag on the table and hoped the delivery guy wouldn’t be in trouble for being a bag short. She’d definitely have to call and talk to his boss now, Inez supposed. She’d promised.

Closing the cooler lid, she carried it back to the door.

“I’m afraid he had one,” she announced, handing over the cooler and taking the one he held out. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

His eyebrows flew up, and a perfectly filthy grin lifted his lips. “Not for me, but you’re in for one hell of a night.”

Thomas moved quickly back to the table to write down the latest coordinates Herb was giving him, said thanks, snapped his phone closed, and straightened to glance around just as Inez closed the suite door. He’d heard her speaking to someone, and been half aware of her moving to the table and back to the door, but hadn’t paid her much attention as he talked to first Bastien and then Herb. He’d actually been too stressed out to speak much to Bastien. With everything that was going on, the man’s constant calls were becoming something of a nuisance. Knowing the calls were due to his worry about Marguerite, Thomas hadn’t snapped at him like he would have liked to do, but merely told him he’d called Herb for new coordinates, would head out as soon as the man called back with them, and would let Bastien know the moment he’d found Marguerite. He’d then hung up on him only to have the phone ring again as Herb called to give him the updated coordinates. It was yet another locale. She, or at least the phone, was obviously on the move. The location was supposed to be accurate to within fifty feet since it was in the city. Hopefully that was close enough that he could spot Marguerite if she hadn’t already left the area by the time he got there. The quicker he got there, the better the chances he’d arrive before she moved on…which meant Thomas had to move.

“Oh, you’re off the phone.”

Thomas focused on Inez, noting the feline grace to her walk as she crossed the room toward him. She was short, curvy, and had a seductive smile. Her lips were the kind that gave a man ideas.

Realizing he was allowing himself to be distracted, he growled, “Who was at the door?”

“The A.B.B. delivery guy,” she answered. “He said he dropped off the wrong cooler here. You got what was meant for the Night Club. He came back to switch coolers.”

“I hope you gave him an earful,” Thomas muttered, moving to what he now realized must be the replacement cooler. It looked the same, but when he opened it he saw that it was just straight blood in this. Several bags of A positive.

“An earful?” Inez sounded surprised. “Why? Is there a great deal of difference between the other blood and this?”

“Oh yeah, there’s a difference,” Thomas muttered with disgust as he picked up a bag of the cold liquid. The moment he touched the bag, he felt the teeth in his mouth shift and begin to extend. Much like Pavlov’s dogs, his body responded to what it knew was coming. He suspected he even salivated as the dogs did at the sight of their food arriving.

Inez was peering curiously down at the bags in the cooler, but glanced up just as he opened his mouth and popped the bag to his fangs.

“Your fangs aren’t there all the time,” she said with surprise. “I saw them slide out of your upper jaw.”

Thomas didn’t comment. He couldn’t with the bag in his mouth, but he wondered that she hadn’t noticed that he didn’t always have fangs. It would be hard for immortals to hide what they were if they walked around flashing fang all the time.

“So you don’t even have to taste the blood?” Inez asked curiously.

Thomas shook his head, his nose flaring as she moved a little closer and he caught a whiff of her scent. Damn, he’d found it enticing in the hotel in London, but right now it was positively intoxicating. Stupid delivery guy, he thought impatiently, and stupid him too for not reading the bloody bag before slapping that first one to his teeth on arriving in the suite.

“That’s good,” Inez announced, drawing his attention away from his thoughts. “I don’t imagine blood tastes good.”

Thomas stared at her silently, his nostrils flared to take in as much of her scent as he could. His skin was now tingling a little. He could actually feel the body heat coming off of her. It made him want to move closer…so he took a step back. This was going to be hell, he realized with dismay. He had to get away from her.

“S.E.C…” Inez said and he noted that she’d picked up the empty bag on the table, the one from the first batch of blood. She’d examined the label, apparently noting the initials under the blood type. Large and bright red on the white label, those initials were the only difference from the other bags. But Thomas hadn’t stopped to read the label. He’d been too hungry to take the time to do so and had slapped that first bag to his teeth without hesitation. It was only Bastien’s call that had prevented his slapping the second bag to his mouth, and pure luck that he’d glanced down and noticed the initials.

“What does S.E.C. stand for?” Inez asked as he tugged the empty bag from his teeth.

“Sweet Ecstasy Concentrate,” Thomas muttered and promptly slapped another bag to his teeth before she could ask what that was. He knew she would the moment he finished with this bag, though, and had no intention of telling her. He felt like a complete idiot for not reading the label and getting himself into this fix. And what a fix! He had a full bag of Sweet Ecstasy swimming around in his body and—he realized as she stepped closer and he felt the sweat break out on his forehead—he was already starting to feel the effects. The first bag was making its way into his system. Soon he would be hard-pressed to keep his hands off Inez if he didn’t get away from her.

His eyes slid over her body in the wrinkled slacks and blouse she’d been forced to re-don that morning in her rush. She still looked delicious to him and he found it hard not to stare when he noted the way the silk of her blouse was pulled tight at her breasts, the material pulling the slightest bit open with every indrawn breath and then relaxing closed with every exhalation. It was just the tiniest bit, hardly noticeable, but he was noticing and his body was responding as if it were a full-body peep show.

Giving his head a slight shake, Thomas decided he needed some distance and quickly. He hooked his free arm through one shoulder strap of his knapsack, then managed to snag two more bags of blood in that hand before heading out of the sitting room in search of his bedroom.

The first bedroom door was open, the lights on and Inez’s purse lay on the bed. Her room. Thomas bypassed it and moved on to the next room The second bedroom was in darkness, but he didn’t bother with the lights at first. Walking inside, he set the blood on the bedside table, and let the knapsack drop onto the mattress before turning back to flip on the light. Much to his relief, Inez hadn’t followed, or if she had, she’d stopped when she realized he was going to his room.

Pushing the door closed with his foot, Thomas turned back to the bed and then realized the second bag of straight blood affixed to his teeth was empty. Pulling it from his fangs, he set it on the bedside table and quickly rifled through his knapsack in search of a clean shirt and jeans. He hadn’t taken a shower or changed his clothes since leaving Canada. He might as well take a quick shower while he finished off the next two bags of blood. It was the only way he could manage it. He had to get out there and find Marguerite.

Thomas took the clothes and blood into the bathroom, set them on the counter, and then stepped into the small room-sized shower and turned it on, quickly adjusting the temperature. He then began to strip, deciding that he wasn’t even going to go back out to the living room and tell Inez that he was going out, but would slip out through the door in his bedroom instead. It just wasn’t safe to be around her at the moment. He didn’t think she’d appreciate his slavering all over her and jumping her bones this early in the relationship. He might know they were lifemates and be perfectly all right with it, but she had no idea. Coming on so strong so soon in the relationship was likely to bring it to a grinding halt.

Grimacing, Thomas ignored the erection now waving around between his legs, grabbed a bag of blood, and slapped it to his teeth as he walked to the shower. This was perfect irony, he supposed as he stepped under the spray of water. It was probably fate paying him back for giving Rachel and Etienne Sweet Ecstasies at the Night Club while they were courting. He deserved every miserable moment he was going to suffer.

Unfortunately, fate hadn’t seen fit to find a way to give Inez the Sweet Ecstasy too, so he was definitely going to suffer alone…if he could avoid her. The warm water dropped down on his erection in a soft rainfall that was almost a caress and Thomas groaned and turned his back to the spray. Yes, the first bag of blood was definitely hitting his system now, and it would only get worse and probably very quickly. It was a swift shower for him and then a rush into his clothes and out through his own door without risking even seeing Inez again. He’d left the coordinates Herb had given him in the other room, but didn’t really need them, he had perfect recall and avoiding her was the best idea until that first bag of blood had left his system.

Inez heard the shower turn on in Thomas’s room and frowned. Obviously, she wasn’t going to get any answers from him for now. Pacing impatiently to the window, she glanced out, surprised to find herself looking out over a stretch of water as her mind went over what she’d learned from the delivery man.

Lifemates were life partners who matched an immortal and whom they could live with, love, and exist with happily.

Inez played the words through her mind slowly and then played them again. A life partner…live with and love…happily. And she was that for Thomas…which she supposed meant that he was that for her too…A life partner…and a special one, chosen for her by nanos or God or by some other mysterious manner. However it came about, they had been chosen for each other. It was just the way it was. They’d met, he’d bit her, tried to read her but couldn’t, and to his kind that meant they were lifemates.

She didn’t know whether to jump up and down for joy, or run back home to England like a scared bunny. On the one hand it was like a dream come true. Actually it really was a dream come true since she’d spent most of that day fantasizing about coming home to the man. And who wouldn’t jump at the possibility? Thomas was handsome, intelligent, and so incredibly considerate…not to mention dangerously sexy.

But it was scary too. After all, the man was handsome, intelligent, and sexy and she was just…well…herself. A little below average height, a little heavier than was considered attractive by today’s standards, and while her features were passable, her nose was just a little too sharp to be pretty, her cheeks a little too round, her hair a little too wild…

Of course, that was the physical aspect. Inez feared she didn’t have the looks to hold a man such as him. The other side of the issue was that he seemed intelligent and considerate…and that was all she knew about the man. She didn’t really know him at all. She had no idea what he liked or didn’t like, what his interests were, or his ambitions, did he have any? And yet, according to the delivery guy, none of that mattered. They were lifemates and so would work well together, were meant to be together.

It was a tempting idea; a lifemate with whom to share life’s joys and troubles, someone to come home to at the end of the day and relax with; a lover, friend, and partner. She’d never feel lonely again. Not that Inez felt that way a lot now. Usually she was too busy to feel lonely, but her family was far away and on those rare occasions where she had a little time to herself she was aware of how alone she was. As a lifemate to Thomas, she would never be alone again. And the best part was that, according to the delivery man, it couldn’t be a mistake. He couldn’t be the wrong man and she wouldn’t later end up struggling to disentangle herself from a bad relationship. If he couldn’t read her, she was his lifemate and lifemates worked out. Period.

It was almost too good to be true, like fat-free ice cream or calorie-free chocolate and yet if it was true, it was the most wonderful thing she’d encountered in her life and she wanted to believe in it. She wanted Thomas. Inez had never had such a quick attraction to a man. Usually, she had to get to know them and like them before she even started thinking of them in a romantic way, but Thomas…Well, after he’d presented her with the bath and breakfast and explained that he hadn’t meant to snub her…she’d pretty much been lost.

Goodlooking and sweet too? The man was walking, talking cheesecake. Irresistible. And, apparently, hers. All those fantasies she’d had earlier about his greeting her at the door when she got home, kissing her and stripping away her clothes to make love to her, suddenly seemed possible and she shivered in anticipation at the idea.

Suddenly impatient for Thomas to come out of the shower, Inez turned away from the windows, her gaze sliding over the room and stopping on the empty blood bag.

“You’re in for one hell of a night.” The delivery man had said and the memory of his expression brought a frown to her face. Obviously there was something different about the blood in the first cooler and the first bag Thomas had consumed, but she had no idea what. Thomas had said the S.E.C. on it stood for Sweet Ecstasy Concentrate, but what was that? She wished he’d told her before disappearing into his room, but he hadn’t and now she was terribly curious. Impatiently so. She wished she’d asked the delivery man what it was, or that she knew someone else who could tell her—

Blinking, Inez suddenly whirled away and hurried into her room to retrieve her purse. Digging inside, she pulled out her cell phone and punched the speed-dial number to call the office. Her call was answered on the second ring and she immediately asked to speak to Wyatt.

“Ms. Urso,” his secretary said with surprise, obviously recognizing her voice, “I thought you had flown to Amsterdam to help Mr. Argeneau’s cousin.”

“Yes, I did and I’m calling from there,” she said calmly. “Is Wyatt in?”

“Yes, of course. Just one moment.”

Inez paced the length of her room as she waited, her footsteps slowing when she heard the click of the phone being answered on the other end.

“Inez. How is Amsterdam?” Wyatt Kenric, Inez’s direct supervisor, asked jovially.

“Fine, fine,” Inez said and shook her head, finding it hard to believe the good-tempered man was an immortal…and that she’d worked with him so long without realizing it. She should have realized there was something fishy. He worked evenings, leaving her to run things during the day. How many company presidents did that? Sighing, she pushed the question aside and dove right in, saying, “Look, Wyatt, we got a delivery of blood here at the hotel, but I think there might be something wrong with it. What does S.E.C. stand for under the blood type?”

The sudden silence on the line didn’t surprise her. She’d expected as much and now forced a light laugh and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, you don’t know. I’m Thomas’s lifemate. He’s explained about Atlantis and everything.”

Inez actually heard his breath whoosh out over the line. He sounded both relieved and startled as he said, “Really?”

“Yes. He couldn’t read or control me. In fact, they almost called you in to wipe a memory from my mind, but then Thomas explained everything and…well…here we are in Amsterdam.”

“Well, congratulations, Inez. I’m happy for you. Tell Thomas I’m happy for him too,” Wyatt said.

“I will. He’s in the shower at the moment. Actually, that’s why I called you rather than bother him. I was hoping to have this all cleared up before he got out.”

“Oh, yes, the blood delivery,” he murmured, sounding a little less jovial. “S.E.C. you say?”

“Yes,” Inez murmured. “I don’t really know enough yet to know if that should be there or not. It might be perfectly all right, but the other blood he had didn’t have that on it, and it’s in bright red letters, so I wondered…”

“You did right to wonder,” Wyatt said seriously. “S.E.C. stands for Sweet Ecstasy Concentrate. You don’t want him drinking even one bag of Sweet Ecstasy, at least not in the concentrated form.”

“Sweet Ecstasy,” Inez repeated, hoping she sounded as if she’d never heard the term before. “What is that? Would it hurt him?”

“Sweet Ecstasy is the immortal version of a Viagara/ Spanish fly mix,” he explained. “It’s blood full of oxytocin, dopamine, norepinephrine, phenylethylamine, and various other hormones and pheromones. The donor blood has been dehydrated, removing at least half the liquid so that it’s a concentrated chemical mix. It’s then used to make Sweet Ecstasy drinks, where the concentrated blood is combined with a sweet soda as a mixer and served in a glass. One bag of the concentrate is used to make several drinks, at least four, sometimes six if the owner of the club is cheap. If Thomas drank a straight bag of the concentrate it would be the equivalent of four to six drinks of the cocktail.”

“I see,” Inez said quietly.

Wyatt gave a chuckle. “It’s a good thing you noticed the S.E.C. before he had any. If he’d just slapped a bag to his mouth without checking you’d have your hands full.”

“My hands full,” she echoed, wondering what that euphemism meant. Was Thomas suddenly going to turn into some kind of ravening, horn-dog vampire, dry humping every piece of furniture in the suite? Or did problem mean—?

“I’ll call the Amsterdam office and have someone rush over some proper blood for Thomas,” Wyatt assured her. “With any luck they’ll have it there before he gets out of the shower.”

“No, that’s all right, Wyatt,” she said in a panic. “I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll take care of it. Just give me the number and I’ll call right away.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll handle it. It won’t take me a minute to call.”

Inez bit her lip. She hadn’t foreseen this possibility, but should have. She thought frantically for a minute, and then said, “Oh, hang on Wyatt, there’s someone at the door.”

Inez pressed the phone to her chest and paced her room once, then twice, then lifted it to her ear and gave a laugh. “It seems I called you for nothing. That was the A.B.B. guy. Apparently he realized his mistake. We got the cooler meant for some place called the Night Club?”

“Ah,” Wyatt said slowly.

Perhaps it was her paranoia, but Inez was positive she heard suspicion in his voice. The funny thing was she hadn’t really lied about anything. Everything she’d said had happened, just not in the time range she’d claimed. Now she felt like she had to give him some kind of verification that she was telling the truth.

“Yes,” Inez continued, hoping her voice didn’t sound as stilted as it seemed to her. She had always been a rotten liar and felt like she was lying now, even if she wasn’t really, well sort of not really. “He’s replaced the blood, but I promised him I’d call and make sure he wasn’t in trouble for the mistake. He didn’t say who his boss was, though. Do you know?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Thank you Wyatt,” she said, relaxing. He’d call, find out everything she’d said was true, and take care of her promise to keep the delivery guy out of trouble too.

“It’s not a problem, Inez. I know you two are busy trying to locate Marguerite. This will leave you free to do that. Good luck with that by the way. Marguerite’s a fine woman and I know Thomas is very fond of her. I hope you find her safe and sound.”

“So do I, Wyatt,” she said solemnly.

“Right. Well, I’ll get off here and take care of that other matter for you,” he said, then hesitated briefly before asking tentatively, “Will you be returning to work once you’ve found her?”

“Of course,” Inez said at once, startled that he’d even ask the question.

“Good, good,” Wyatt said at once. “I just worried that…well, Thomas lives in Canada and…Never mind. Good luck on your hunt. I’ll see you when you get back.”

There was a click as he hung up and Inez flipped her cell phone closed, but then just stood there staring at it, Wyatt’s words ringing in her ears.

Thomas lives in Canada and…

That hadn’t occurred to her. This lifemate business had seemed so perfect with the complete lack of a necessity to bother with awkward first dates and everything else, but it didn’t resolve issues such as the two of them living in separate countries.

Surely, that wasn’t really an issue though, Inez thought with a frown. She had a career here in the U.K. She was a vice president with an excellent salary and wonderful prospects while he just delivered blood in Canada and doodled music on a notepad.

No, it wouldn’t be an issue, Inez decided with a faint smile at herself for thinking even for a minute that it might be. Thomas wouldn’t have any problem moving here to be with her. Everything would be fine. She was just borrowing trouble in her usual manner, spotting possible problems before they could become problems.

Shaking her head, Inez slid her cell phone into her purse and started out of the room, coming to a halt in the hall when she heard the muffled sound of a door closing in Thomas’s room. Not the soft thud of the bathroom door closing, but a suction type sound, the insulation around the door to the hall had made when it opened and closed.

Frowning, she moved to his door and pressed her ear to it, disturbed by the silence beyond the wooden panel. The shower was now silent and Inez didn’t hear him moving around or anything.

Biting her lip, she knocked lightly at the door. “Thomas?”

Inez waited a moment, but when she got no answer, opened the door and peered into the room. The lights were off. She flipped them on, her gaze moving over the empty bed and to the dark and equally empty bathroom.

Cursing, she started toward the door leading out into the hotel hall, but then realized she didn’t have her purse and hurried back to her room to collect it knowing she might need her pass and the key to the hotel suite. She hurried out into the hall through her own door then, pausing abruptly when she saw the elevator doors closing.

“Damn,” Inez muttered, sure that by the time another elevator arrived he’d be exiting the lobby and lost in the crowds out on the street. She didn’t know her way around Amsterdam and even if she did, had no idea where he was going.

That thought sent her back to the hotel room door. She used the card key she’d received when they’d checked in and rushed inside, heading straight for the table in the living room and the notepad on it. A smile claimed her lips when she spotted the bold writing on it. He hadn’t taken the note. A quick glance told her they were the latest coordinates for Marguerite’s phone and no doubt where he was heading.

Inez ripped the top page off the pad and whirled away to rush for the door. She’d need a map of Amsterdam before she could find the spot, but she would find it and then she’d find Thomas.

He’d probably be annoyed that she’d come after him, but if he was going to be her lifemate, he might as well know right now that she didn’t like to share. She wasn’t going to leave the foolish man wandering around alone megadosed on Immortal Spanish fly. Especially not in Amsterdam.

Six

Thomas tapped his fingers impatiently against his leg as he waited for the tram. He could have walked the distance from the hotel to the city center easily, but the tram would be faster, and the faster he got there the better.

He’d hoped that once he was out of the hotel and away from Inez some of the need coursing through his body would ease, but it wasn’t working out quite that way. It was a struggle for him not to turn around and march the twenty feet back to the hotel and back up to their suite. The only thing stopping him was his worry for his aunt and the knowledge that if he did march back in, he wasn’t likely to stop marching until he reached Inez. And then he would probably still keep moving, just taking her with him, stripping away every bit of clothing she wore as he went. If they reached a bed or some other soft surface before he had her naked, she would be lucky, because the moment he had them both free of their binding clothes he was likely to crawl all over and inside her body.

Thomas knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He was now sporting a killer erection and one that wasn’t going away anytime soon. He’d never experienced need like this before. He’d thought the hunger was irresistible when he’d gone too long without blood, but in comparison, the effects of the Sweet Ecstasy were devastating. He felt like he was dancing on the edge of a knife, need lancing through him in pulsating waves.

His gaze slid around the few people near him waiting for the tram, gliding over one woman then another, noting their interested smiles with complete indifference. Horny as the Sweet Ecstasy was making him, Thomas knew they couldn’t slake his thirst, it was Inez he wanted. Sweet Inez with her full, pouty lips, her curved body, and all her passion. He wanted her naked beneath him, her warm body embracing his, her need as hot and unbearable as his own.

Of course, she wasn’t likely to have any need for him at all yet, let alone one as unbearable as what he was suffering. She hadn’t had any Sweet Ecstasy. If anything, the woman was more likely to be screaming blue, bloody murder…or to be more literal, rape, as he bore her down to the carpet in their suite.

Grimacing, Thomas glanced up the road, relieved to see the tram coming. The further he got away from Inez and temptation, the better. When the tram stopped, he allowed the others to board before him, then retrieved his pass and followed. Despite the hour, the tram was busy. Tourists traveled around the city at all hours of the night, enjoying the pleasures on offer like naughty children who unexpectedly found themselves free of parental supervision for a weekend.

Thomas glanced over the seats still available as he slid his pass back into his pocket, then moved toward a pair of empty seats near the middle of the tram. He dropped into the aisle seat to discourage anyone from deciding to join him. They would have to be a bold person indeed, since they’d have to crawl over him to get to the window seat. Just to ensure none of the women smiling so prettily at him felt a sudden desire to do so, Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and glared around briefly, before turning his gaze out the window to wait for the tram to move.

It didn’t leave the stop right away, but sat idling for a couple of moments. Thomas had just noticed this and glanced to the front of the tram when the driver opened the doors again. Realizing he must have been waiting for someone running for the tram, Thomas turned his attention back to the window, mentally reviewing the map he’d purchased in the hotel lobby. Marguerite’s cell phone had last been tracked to the heart of the oldest part of Amsterdam, De Wallen. It was also known as Walletjes (“little walls”) or Rosse Buurt…the Red Light District.

Thomas couldn’t imagine what Marguerite would be doing there. Not that it was what one would expect from the title. It wasn’t grubby or seedy. All in all it was a rather unique neighborhood with rows of buildings on either side of the canals. Bridges crossed the canal at intervals, and walkways ran along each side, lined with bars and night clubs along with sex shows and the infamous red-lit windows displaying scantily clad women inside. Most people would be surprised at how clean and attractive it all was.

Still, it just didn’t seem the sort of place Marguerite would go. He suspected she’d been passing through the area on her way somewhere else, and would be gone by the time he got there, but he had to check it out.

Thomas blinked and glanced around with alarm as someone began to squeeze through the small bit of space between his knees and the back of the seat in front of him to reach the window seat. His eyes landed on black business pants and stayed fastened there as he recognized the shapely, upside-down heart of Inez’s behind. His hands started moving of their own volition, reaching for her hips as if to catch her and draw her down onto his lap, and then Thomas regained control of himself and forced them under his arms as she finally finished squeezing past him and dropped into the window seat with a little sigh.

“Oh, my. I had to run for the tram,” she said, flashing him a breathless smile. “You must have had to wait a bit for it or I never would have caught up to you.”

Thomas simply stared at her, his brain slowly registering its horror, and then growled, “Inez. What are you doing here? You should be back in the hotel.”

Inez frowned slightly as his obvious displeasure at seeing her, and then began to shift around in her seat.

Thomas winced and jerked his arm away as she brushed against him, leaning his upper body slightly into the aisle to prevent her touching him again as she slipped a hand into her pocket. It came out a moment later, holding a piece of folded paper that she silently held out to him.

He stared at the paper for a moment, and then carefully took it, avoiding any of his flesh touching hers. There was no way to keep her scent from drifting to him, however, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled her fragrance. Teeth grinding as every muscle in his body wound itself a little tighter, he unfolded the paper.

“You forgot the coordinates your friend Herb gave you,” Inez said quietly as he glanced over his own writing. “I thought you might need it.”

Folding up the piece of paper again, he tucked it in his jeans pocket, muttering, “I didn’t need it. I remember.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize,” she said, then shrugged and smiled. “Ah, well, better to be safe than sorry.”

“Exactly,” Thomas said grimly, “which is why when we get off this tram, you are going back to the hotel.”

She stiffened at the suggestion, but then smiled and said, “Don’t be silly. I’m here to help you. I’ll come with you.”

“You came to Amsterdam to hear the explanation about my people,” he countered at once. “There’s no need to help me here. I know my way around Amsterdam.”

“Nevertheless, I’m here so may as well help out,” Inez insisted.

Thomas turned a scowl on her, but his eyes landed on her lips and refused to go further. He found himself simply staring at her mouth, noting how full and soft it looked and recalling how good it had felt beneath his when he’d kissed her in the hotel. He’d like to kiss her again. He’d like to do more than that, he’d like to cover her mouth with his, and thrust his tongue between her lips even as he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him. And then he wanted to rip her top open and tug her bra off and bury his face between her full round breasts while he—

The ding of a bell, made him blink and glance around to see that the tram was stopping.

“Are you all right, Thomas?” Inez asked with concern, drawing his gaze back to her. “Your face is flushed and you’ve broken out in a sweat. Is that normal with Sweet Ecstasy? Are fevers a side effect?”

When she started to raise a hand as if to feel his forehead, Thomas lunged out of his seat, terrified that if she touched him he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from doing exactly what he’d just imagined, even with a whole tram full of people watching.

Noting the way her eyes had widened in surprise at his reaction, Thomas muttered, “We get off here.”

He stepped closer to the door, silently begging it to open before she joined him and possibly touched his arm or innocently brushed against him. He was a vamp on the edge here, his mind running as wild as his body. Why the hell hadn’t he read the label on that blood rather than just slapping it to his teeth?

When the doors opened, Thomas immediately burst off the tram, instinctively sucking in draughts of fresh air to try to clear his head, or at least to clear her scent from his nose. Damn, he’d never known a woman to smell so good.

“Thomas?” Inez was suddenly at his side, her scent filling his nostrils anew as she gently touched his arm.

Thomas hissed and jerked instinctively away as if she’d burnt him, then controlled himself and turned to face her. The stunned look of hurt on her face made him want to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he didn’t dare. Guilt now joining the barrage of other emotions swirling around inside him, Thomas frowned and glanced up the street, relieved when he spotted the tram coming up the street in the opposite direction to the one they’d just got off of.

“You need to take that tram to get back to the hotel,” Thomas said grimly, pointing it out to her. When he glanced at her, she wasn’t even following his gesture, but was staring at him with a silent determination that made him extremely nervous. Rather then try to take her arm, he gestured for her to start walking, saying, “I’ll see you onto it.”

Inez stood firm and shook her head. “I’m going with you.”

“Inez,” he began grimly.

“I know what Sweet Ecstasy is,” she announced, and when he peered at her sharply, she shrugged and admitted, “I called Wyatt and asked about it. You presently have the equivalent of four to six cocktails running through your system. I’m guessing one or two would make you feel very…er…friendly. Four or six probably isn’t leaving you thinking very clearly. I’m coming with you.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Thomas assured her, knowing she really had no clue what state he was in or what he could do in this condition.

“I’m not leaving you wandering around alone while all hot and bothered, especially not in Amsterdam.”

Thomas’s eyes widened. Had that been a bit of possessiveness he’d heard in her voice? He’d known she was attracted to him back in the hotel in London, but that was before she’d known what he was. He’d worried since then over how she was accepting his explanations. Possessiveness was a good sign, though.

“Lead the way, Thomas,” Inez ordered quietly, drawing him back from his thoughts. “Or I’ll touch you.”

Thomas blinked in surprise at the threat, but just shook his head and said, “Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”

On that note, he gave up trying to send her back and turned to head toward a dimly lit alleyway. He moved slowly at first, until she fell into pace at his side, and then picked up a little speed to stay a step ahead of her scent and discourage talking. Thomas was hoping that if she didn’t touch him and he couldn’t smell her and she didn’t talk, he could pretend she wasn’t there and his body might settle down a little. Every nerve in his body had been buzzing since she’d appeared on the tram.

It didn’t work, of course. Inez wasn’t one to be easily ignored.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Thomas glanced over the people walking around them. It was a busy alleyway, the street cobbled and people both heading in their direction as well as walking the same way they were going. Other than the occasional light overhead being electric rather than oil lamps, it wasn’t much different than it had been when he’d first come here one hundred and seventy-five years ago.

“Thomas?” Inez prompted.

“The Red Light District.”

Inez was very glad that she’d decided to come after him. The idea of his wandering the famed prostitution area of Amsterdam in the state he was in was not a happy one.

Her gaze slid over him as they passed from shadow to light. She had been surprised to see him boarding the tram when she’d come out of the hotel. Inez had been positive she’d have to find him by finding the location on the note he’d left behind. She hadn’t looked a gift horse in the mouth, however, but had immediately burst into a run to get to the tram before it moved off. Fortunately, the driver had seen her and waited.

Thomas had looked tense and unhappy when she’d first spotted him on the tram, and that was before he’d even seen her. He looked just as tense and unhappy now, or perhaps a little more so. It seemed obvious to her the man was suffering. He couldn’t bear to be touched, kept breaking out in a sweat every time she got too near, and seemed to be having a hard time even looking at her.

They turned out of the short alleyway and onto a street, or what she assumed was a street. One side was separated from the other by a wide canal with bridges crossing over it at either end. Inez found herself gawking around at their surroundings. Much to her surprise it was all quite pretty. The buildings were all pressed up tight against each other and all were at least three, and sometimes four or even five, stories high. Some were very narrow buildings with only two windows on each floor, others were wider with three, but every one seemed to have businesses on the ground floor and everywhere she looked, lights twinkled out at her. Even the bridges had lights running in arcs on the arches over the water.

They passed bars, clubs, and sex shops at the outer fringe of this area and then—

Inez stopped dead and gaped at the row of windows lit up in red. Some had their curtains pulled, the cloth glowing red from the light beyond and one or two held empty chairs with signs that said be right back, but most had women in them, all dressed in lingerie or some other scanty bit of cloth. It was like a glass candy display case with the women as the candy. Bemused by it all, Inez began to dig in her purse.

Thomas turned back when he realized he’d lost her. Returning to her side, he frowned and asked, “What are you looking for?”

“My cell phone,” Inez answered, checking the side pockets when she didn’t find it in the middle pocket. Feeling it at last, she pulled it out triumphantly. “Ah, ha!”

“Who are you calling?” Thomas asked with bewilderment.

“I’m not.” She flipped the cell phone open and started to raise it. “My phone has a camera built in. I want to take a picture.”

Much to her amazement, Thomas stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the windows.

“No pictures,” he said quietly. “It isn’t allowed.”

“What?” Inez asked with surprise and then glanced around. Spotting a man not three feet away with a huge honking camera in hand that he was focusing on the windows, she pointed him out. “Look, he’s—”

Her words died abruptly as a shriek rent the air. Glancing toward the windows, she saw a fully clothed, short, skinny older woman pushing her way past one of the young women in the windows to rush out of what turned out not to be a window at all, but a windowed door.

Inez’s eyes widened incredulously as she went after the man with the camera, berating him for trying to take pictures. The man was backpedaling away, his eyes wide and horrified.

“Move,” Thomas growled.

Inez drew her gaze from the dispute on the street and glanced toward Thomas. The moment she was looking his way he began to walk again, forcing her to either follow or lose him in the crowd. Sighing, Inez set out reluctantly after him. She’d really rather stay and see what happened here, but didn’t want to lose him.

“Why won’t they allow pictures?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder where the man with the camera was offering money to the upset woman. Both Inez and the man flinched when the woman smacked the money away and continued to rage at him.

When Thomas didn’t answer, she glanced around, and spotted two large men now coming out of the open windowed door to join the little woman. She was suddenly very glad that Thomas had prevented her taking a picture. It looked to her like the man with the camera was about to be in even more trouble.

Realizing that Thomas was continuing forward without her, she hurried after him. “Thomas? Why are they so upset about his taking pictures?”

“Privacy,” Thomas said through gritted teeth as she caught up. “The women don’t want to be photographed, and neither do most of the men who visit them. It’s bad for business. Who would want to visit a prostitute if there was a chance his picture will be taken?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Inez said quietly as she slipped her phone back in her purse. For a moment there she’d forgotten what the women did in those little rooms when the curtains closed. Somehow it’s all being out in the open like that had made it seem more like some sort of attraction at a fair than what it really was: prostitution. It was the atmosphere that did it, she realized as she glanced over their surroundings again. The area was well lit, and the setting almost romantic with the lights reflecting off the canal. The walkways were neat, the buildings tidy. There was no garbage lying around, no graffiti, all the buildings appeared well maintained and tidy in this light, and the people they were passing were mostly tourists, groups of men, couples, and groups of couples, all dressed in casual but nice clothes, laughing and talking as they walked along the street, peering in the windows with more curiosity than lecherous intent.

Despite the fact that they passed sex shops and peep shows, or live erotic shows interspersed among the window women, the atmosphere was almost that of a carnival rather than…well…a Red Light District.

Thomas stopped walking suddenly and Inez glanced at him curiously. “What is it?”

“This is the spot,” he answered, his head turning slowly as he surveyed the area.

“Here?” Inez asked doubtfully. They were standing in front of a sex shop with red-lit, women-filled windows spreading out on either side on both the ground and second floors. Hardly a place she’d expect to find Marguerite Argeneau.

“Herb said that she’d be no more than fifty feet away,” Thomas said with a frown as he glanced around.

Inez glanced one way and then the other, trying to judge how far fifty feet would be in each direction. There were no bars or restaurants in this little stretch, however, only the sex shop and red-lit windows.

Movement caught her eye and Inez glanced to the second-floor window in front of her as a pretty young blonde in white lace panties, bra, and stockings drew the curtains open. A man stood in the room with her, his belt undone and hanging open, his pants zipped up, and he was rushing to do up the buttons of his shirt. He was an average-looking man; average height, a little too thin, a little awkward looking. He also appeared pretty flustered about the woman having opened the curtains before he was dressed and gone, and Inez found herself embarrassed for him. She turned away, facing Thomas to give the man in the window privacy.

“She must have just been walking past here when they tracked her,” she said. “Call your friend and have him track her phone again.”

Nodding, he pulled out his phone.

Inez glanced around as she waited for him to make the call, her eyes sliding over the windows on the street, noticing that the women on the second floor all seemed to be just that little bit prettier than the ones on the ground floor. Most on the second floor also wore more expensive-looking lingerie, or leather compared to the women below, and she wondered if there was a price difference between the ones on the ground floor and the ones higher up.

Thomas began to speak next to her and Inez listened absently as he talked with his friend, Herb, and asked him to track the phone again. When he finished, she glanced his way in question as he flipped the phone closed.

“He’ll call back when he has the location,” Thomas explained, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

Nodding, she stepped out of the way of a large group of men gamboling down the walkway, singing some bawdy song. Once they were past, she turned to Thomas and suggested, “Why don’t we go find a pub up the street while we wait?”

Thomas hesitated and then shook his head. “If we go in the wrong direction, we’ll just have that much farther to backtrack.”

“Right,” Inez said on a sigh. She was exhausted. Her feet were sore and her ankles still swollen from the flight. She was also hungry again despite the fact that she’d eaten twice that day. And she couldn’t complain about any of the above since he’d wanted her to stay at the hotel in the first place. Grimacing, she walked over to lean against the railing that ran along the canal to keep the unwary and just plain drunk or stoned tourist from stumbling into the canal.

“You look tired,” Thomas said with a frown and when she merely shrugged, turned up the street. “Come on. It could be as much as an hour before he calls back. We may as well have a drink and maybe something to eat.”

Brightening at once, Inez fell into step beside him, finding a little energy at the prospect of a seat and drink in her future.

They hadn’t gone far when they had to move to the side to make way for another large group, this one a bit rowdy and most definitely drunk or stoned or both. Thomas instinctively took her arm to move her out of the way of the group, having to pull her right into the mouth of a short narrow alley to get out of the way.

Inez tripped over the uneven path and though Thomas caught her, he was pulled somewhat off balance as well. They stumbled like a couple of drunks until she came up against the wall, her back slamming into it.

Grimacing, Inez lifted her head and found Thomas frozen before her, his face carved from stone, his eyes flashing silver in the dark alcove. Her own eyes widened and she found herself holding her breath as she peered up at him. It felt like a very dangerous situation to her, though she couldn’t have said why, and then his head lowered and his mouth covered hers and she knew exactly why. The need pouring off the man and evident in his demanding kiss was almost shocking. This kiss was nothing like the one in the hotel in London. That had been commanding and seductive, this was wild and out of control, an explosion of desperate need that was frightening in its intensity.

Shocked, Inez remained completely still under the initial onslaught. Like a computer overwhelmed with information, her brain blanked out briefly and then restarted as his hands caught her by the behind and lifted her up, pressing her against his hard need. Regaining her senses, Inez reached up to catch him by the hair and tugged viciously, trying to make him stop. When that didn’t work, she bit down on his tongue, not enough to do real damage, but enough to warn him off.

Thomas broke the kiss at once and she felt a moment’s relief, but then his mouth simply slid across her cheek to her ear.

“Thomas,” she hissed in a whisper, aware that the street was only a few feet to her left and not wanting to draw the attention of passersby, “you have to stop. Someone will see us here.”

When he lifted his head and let her slide back to her feet, she felt a moment’s relief, but then he simply urged her farther back in the alcove.

“What—?” Inez asked with confusion and then felt the wall press into her back again as he pressed her into the shadows. “Thom—”

His name died on a gasp of surprise as his hand suddenly covered one of her breasts through her blouse, then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue sweeping out to rasp against her own. Inez closed her eyes, trying to fight off the sensations awakening in her, but the man had had two hundred years to practice his technique and was good at it. Still, she tried one more time, twisting her head to the side to break the kiss so she could gasp, “Thomas you have to—”

Her eyes shot open in surprise as his head ducked and he closed his mouth over the breast he’d been caressing. Inez stared down in shock as she saw that he’d somehow opened her blouse without her realizing it, nudged her silk bra aside and was now suckling on one naked nipple, drawing it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue so that the tender nub hardened with excitement.

“Thomas.” She’d meant it as a reprimand, but it came out a breathless moan. Even worse, the hand that had been tugging at his hair, now cradled his head, urging him on.

When Thomas’s teeth scraped against the excited flesh he was suckling, Inez moaned, and clutched her fingers closed on the strands of his hair again, this time not trying to make him stop so much as trying to pull him up to kiss her again. Thomas did at once, his tongue immediately sweeping out to dance with hers as he caught her by the behind and lifted her again. This time when he urged her against the hardness at his groin, she groaned and caught her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest so that she was plastered to him from top to bottom.

Thomas stepped closer, pinning her to the wall with his body so that his hands were free to roam. Inez gasped and shuddered and sucked furiously at his tongue as his hands slid over her. When he caught her under the thighs and urged them up, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, slightly changing the angle of their contact as he ground into her.

“I need you,” he growled, breaking their kiss again and leaning back slightly so that he could close both hands over her breasts. One was bare, but the other was still covered by her bra. Thomas fixed that quickly enough so that he could caress her naked flesh.

Inez covered his hands with her own and leaned her head back against the wall, moaning as she shifted her hips to grind against him and then one of his hands slid away and the cool night air caressed her breast as she felt him fiddling at the waist of her slacks.

“Why aren’t you wearing a skirt?” he muttered with frustration.

“I will from now on,” Inez promised and then the material at her waist gave and his hand slid inside and between her legs. Inez bucked against him and cried out as his finger brushed against her slick flesh, a sound that he cut off by covering her mouth again with his own.

Inez kissed him back frantically, slipping one of her own hands between them to press it against his erection, and squeezing firmly. When Thomas growled into her mouth, she released him and worked at the button and zipper of his jeans, opening both so that she could slip her own hand inside to find him, and then his cell phone rang.

Seven

Thomas and Inez both pulled apart slightly and then froze, their eyes locking on each other as his cell phone continued to ring. When he didn’t react, Inez slid her hand in the back pocket of his jeans, retrieved his phone and held it up between them.

Sighing, Thomas allowed her to slide to her feet and took the phone. Opening it, he barked, “Hello.”

Herb immediately began nattering in his ear, but Thomas wasn’t paying attention. His gaze as well as all his focus was on Inez as she began to straighten her clothes. Thomas watched her tucking all that delectable flesh away, hard-pressed not to drop his phone and simply rip every stitch of material off of her. That was foremost in his thoughts despite the fact that one very tiny part of his brain was telling him he should really drop to his knees, apologize, and beg her forgiveness. The Sweet Ecstasy in his system might be driving him wild with need, but there was still one portion of Thomas’s brain functioning and it was enough to throw a bit of guilt on the mixture of hunger and desire presently swirling in his brain.

It was a very tiny portion of his brain, but it was telling him that he had pretty much dragged Inez into the alley and attacked her. While he knew it was true and had even realized it as he’d done it, Thomas hadn’t been able to help himself. A shock of excitement had gone through him the moment he’d taken her arm to steer her out of the path of the drunk and rowdy group moving toward them, and that was just from touching her elbow.

He’d feared that would happen. That’s why he’d avoided touching her since the light brush of her arm against his on the tram. He’d known it would simply ramp up the need swirling through his body like a tornado. However, he might have resisted then, but when she’d stumbled and they crashed into the wall, their bodies briefly pressing together, he’d been lost, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of desire inside him.

A flash fire had gone through him, bursting to life at every point where their bodies had met and Thomas had attacked her. There was no other description for it and he knew it. He’d jumped her like a slavering animal, forcing himself on her despite her struggles. It was only when she’d said his name and pulled at his hair that he’d regained any sense at all and then it had only been enough for him to drag her farther into the shadows and shift to a lower gear, switching from taking what he wanted to a determined coaxing. But it had been determined. He would have taken her right there against the dark alley wall if not for Herb’s phone call. Only the fact that she was wearing slacks instead of a skirt had slowed him down, and only the ring of the phone—a piercing reminder of the need to find Aunt Marguerite—had made him stop.

“Thomas? Did you get that?”

Blinking, Thomas forced himself to look away from Inez and concentrate on the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Herb. No, I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” he asked.

“I said you were right. She appears to be on the move. The coordinates are different this time. Are you ready for them?”

“Yes,” he assured him, forcing himself to attention. “Go ahead.”

He had Herb repeat them twice to make sure he had them fixed in his memory and then thanked him and signed off. Thomas closed the phone with a sigh and slipped it in his back pocket, then quickly straightened his own clothes before retrieving the folded map in his other back pocket and heading for the light at the mouth of the alley.

As he’d expected, Inez quickly fell into step beside him. Trying to concentrate on what he had to do, Thomas found it difficult not to yell at her to go back to the hotel and leave him in peace. The only reason he managed to control that urge was because he wanted her there with him as much as he wanted her gone. He was trying to fight the effects of the Sweet Ecstasy, but they were fighting him right back.

“What are the new coordinates?” Inez asked as he stopped on the lit path and opened the map.

Thomas peered at the tentative smile she was offering and shook his head slightly, amazed that she wasn’t railing at him for what he’d just done. The woman was very forgiving, but obviously had no idea how precarious his control—and therefore her position—was. If she did, he was sure she’d be heading for the airport and the first plane back to England, or at least back to the hotel to lock herself in her room. Not that a locked door was likely to stop him if he lost control completely.

Turning his gaze back to the map, Thomas glanced over it, finding the new coordinates and comparing them to where they presently were, then glanced around as he quickly refolded the map.

“This way.” Back to avoiding touching her, he led the way up the street as he slid the street map back into his pocket. They were headed back the way they’d come, and he frowned as he wondered if they’d somehow passed Marguerite on their way out without his noticing her, or if she’d already moved to where she now was before he’d headed out. That was more likely. He couldn’t imagine Marguerite would have had any reason to be at the first spot. He just couldn’t imagine her stopping in at a prostitute’s windowed room.

Unless it was to feed, Thomas thought suddenly, realizing that without knowing where she was, Bastien had no way to send her blood. It wouldn’t be that big a problem for her over here. As Bastien had said, the council in Europe had some different laws than those in North America. Biting mortals was allowed over here, although most immortals he knew tended to prefer the safety offered by bagged blood. They simply didn’t want to give up the choice of fresh, warm blood from the source on occasion.

Marguerite might very well have been visiting one of the prostitutes in the window…to feed.

Thomas found the idea disturbing. He’d never known his aunt to choose people over bagged blood. But why hadn’t she contacted Bastien and had blood shipped out? The longer she was missing the more worried he became. Something was obviously wrong, and he was the one in charge of finding out what that was. It was a task he couldn’t fail, not just because he didn’t want to let down the rest of the family, but because he himself needed her to be safe and well. She was the central focus of family to him. He loved Jeanne Louise and Lissianna as sisters, but Marguerite was stability and the very embodiment of home and family for Thomas. He had hardly cared that Jean Claude, Marguerite’s husband, had died except that it meant he wouldn’t be around to make the wonderful woman miserable, but losing Marguerite would be a crushing blow.

The red-lit windows had thinned out as they walked, separated more and more by bars and shops. When they reached the new coordinates, Thomas found they were standing on a walkway that was a little wider than the one they’d just left. On their right was a row of bars and restaurants, on their left was a row of outdoor tables with large outdoor umbrellas sporting various beer logos.

No doubt they had stopped here to eat. While Marguerite was over seven hundred years old and no longer ate, Tiny McGraw was mortal and did. If that was the case, they might still be here. Surely it would take some time to cook a meal and eat it.

“Is this the spot?” Inez asked, her gaze sliding over the tables.

Thomas nodded and they both began to move slowly along the walkway between the tables and buildings, their eyes moving carefully over the patrons seated outside.

“Maybe she’s inside one of the restaurants or bars,” Inez suggested as they drew near the end of the tables.

Thomas nodded and frowned as he glanced toward the front of the buildings, unsure what to do. He was afraid that if they started going into the restaurants, Marguerite might come out of one while they were in another and leave without them seeing her.

“I could wait out here while you check the restaurants, that way we would be sure not to miss her,” Inez suggested.

Thomas glanced at her, grateful for the suggestion his own brain was in no shape to come up with, but he asked, “Do you know what she looks like?”

“Yes. I met her when I was in New York.”

Relieved to have the matter settled, he glanced around and then suggested, “Why don’t you have a seat at one of the tables on the end here so that you can watch all the doors. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Nodding, Inez moved to the nearest table, settling herself in a seat that put her back to the rest of the path but gave her a view of the entrances of the row of restaurants and bars.

The moment she was settled, Thomas headed for the door of the first bar.

Fifteen minutes later, Inez watched Thomas walk into the last bar in this little area and sighed to herself. Obviously, he hadn’t spotted Marguerite in any of the other bars, and she suspected he wouldn’t find her in this one either. No doubt they’d missed her again. She probably hadn’t stopped here at all, but had been tracked in the area as she was passing through again. They’d probably have to call his friend, Herb, and have him track her phone once more and Inez was beginning to fear they would spend the whole night hurrying from spot to spot chasing after her until near sunrise when she’d settle into whatever hotel she was stopping at. Inez was too tired for this nonsense.

A burst of laughter drew her gaze to a group of men seated at the tables of the next bar over, and she smiled faintly when she recognized the stag party group from Britain. They were laughing and having a good time, but the groom was looking a little the worse for wear. His wig was lopsided, he had several runs in his stockings, the makeup on his face—garish to begin with—was smudged as well as bleeding down his face with sweat. He still appeared to be having a good time, though; his smile was bright and beaming.

Shaking her head with amusement, Inez started to glance back toward the doors, but paused as her gaze landed on a man seated alone at a table two over from the stag party. He had short, spiky black hair above a thin face and looked vaguely familiar to her. Inez only peered at him for a moment, and then decided he too must have been on the plane with them. Amsterdam was a small city and every one seemed to go to the Red Light District at some point, if only to tour through and gawk. If she sat there long enough, she’d probably see every single person from their flight pass by, Inez thought as she glanced back toward the restaurants.

It should have been a boring business, sitting there watching people enter and exit and gambol by, but it really wasn’t. It was a lovely night, with a clear sky, a light breeze, and the sound of gently lapping water to her side from the canal. Inez had always enjoyed people watching and it was hard not to in this setting.

“Hello, beautiful lady.”

Inez glanced around with a start as three men suddenly took up the extra seats at her table. She’d seen them approaching, but had assumed that they intended to claim a table of their own, not join her. Now, she glanced wide-eyed from man to man to man; a blonde, a brunette, and a man with a shaved head. All of them were about her age and all of them wore a half-drunk, half-stoned, we’re-here-to-have fun smiles.

“Can we buy you a drink?” the blonde asked in a rather slurred British accent.

“No, thank you, I’ve ordered one…and I’m waiting for someone,” Inez added stiffly. This wasn’t a situation she was used to dealing with. In fact, it had never happened to her before. Work kept her busy enough that she rarely went out socially, but when she did, it was with her girlfriends, Lisa and Sherry. They lived in the neighboring flat. She’d met them the day she’d moved from Portugal to London. Lisa wrote a column for a national magazine and Sherry worked in IT for the same magazine. They were both gorgeous model types; Lisa, a tall blond, and Sherry, a tall redhead, and always drew all the attention when the three of them were together, leaving Inez free of having to fend off advances.

That was part of the reason Inez did occasionally agree to go out with the pair. Going out with them was like going out with shields. In their presence, she disappeared into the surroundings and wasn’t forced to socialize with the opposite sex. While Inez had a lot of confidence at work, was excellent at what she did, and could handle any crisis, in her personal life she was decidedly lacking in self-confidence.

Inez was short and—in her opinion—twenty pounds overweight. She was top heavy, her lips were too full, her hair too wild and unmanageable, insisting on curling in the damp English air. None of which was considered attractive by today’s standards. Hairstyles today were all nice, flat helmets, and no matter how many creams or hair flatteners she used, her glossy black curls would not be beaten into submission. As for the rest of her, unfortunately, there was no cream to make her shoot up about six inches and give her a svelte figure.

“Oh, don’t be like that, love,” the one with the shaved head said. “We’re just trying to be friendly.”

Inez had a sudden, overwhelming urge to tell them to bugger off. She had Thomas, a lifemate chosen by nanos or God or both and dropped into her life without any effort on her part and no need to try to pretend to a confidence, beauty, or social skills she didn’t have. She didn’t feel awkward or unsure around him, didn’t feel the least uncomfortable…

Blinking at her own thoughts, Inez suddenly sagged back in her seat. It was true. She didn’t feel self-conscious or out of place with Thomas as she did with most men. She felt completely comfortable with him, even at her worst as she was right now. And she was definitely at her worst. She was tired, hungry, and while she’d had a bath at the hotel in London, she was still wearing the wrinkled clothes she’d tugged on that morning, hadn’t had even an elastic to pull back her unmanageable hair, or any makeup to put on afterward other than the lipstick she’d had in her purse, and yet it didn’t seem to matter to Thomas. He’d still kissed her in the hotel, and then gone at her again just moments ago in the dark alley.

Of course, he was a bit horned up right now on account of the Immortal version of Spanish fly, Inez reminded herself. Still, that didn’t mean he had to jump her.

“Look, love, while its fascinating sitting here watching you nod and talk to yourself under your breath it might be more fun if you talked to us,” the blonde said, forcing himself into her recollection again. “We’ll buy you that drink and you talk to us, right?”

Knowing it wasn’t advisable to be rude to sotted men, Inez was just opening her mouth to ask them politely to leave her alone when Thomas was suddenly there, looming beside her. She peered up at his face, surprised to see that his features were rigid and his eyes glowing silver. She’d seen his eyes turn that way before, both times when he’d kissed her, but somehow she didn’t think it was passion making them silver right now.

“She said ‘no, thank you,’” Thomas said coldly and Inez bit her lip, her gaze sliding worriedly between the men. She’d lived in Britain for almost eight years and knew the last thing you did was piss off a drunken Brit. They were considered all stiff upper lip and conservative by the world at large, and they were that, but she’d also never seen a group more likely to start swinging their fists than Brits when drinking. She suspected it had something to do with that very conservativeness that they were known for. All those emotions they bottled up so much of the time, had to come out at some point and when they were drinking seemed to be the point. She couldn’t recall an evening out with Lisa and Sherry where a fight or absolute brawl hadn’t broken out at the end of the night.

Inez knew Thomas wasn’t your average guy, that he was faster, stronger, and could control minds, but she wasn’t sure he could control three at once, or how much stronger and faster he actually was. Slinging her purse strap over her shoulder, she stood and murmured, “Thomas, I think we should move on and call Herb for another set of coord—”

“No, no, love. Sit down. We want to buy you a drink.” The words were accompanied by a sudden sharp tug on her hand that sent her dropping back into her seat. Her eyes shot to the first man as he turned his attention to Thomas and said with a shrug, “I don’t see a ring on her finger. She’s free to sit with us.”

Inez never saw Thomas move, but suddenly the blonde was dangling in the air, held there by Thomas’s hand at his throat.

“Thomas,” she said anxiously, standing up and catching his free arm with her hand. He jerked as if she branded him, his head whipping around, eyes blazing silver fire. Inez caught her breath and stared back for a moment and then glanced around sharply and cried out with surprise as she saw the brunette approaching Thomas from behind. Her warning came too late, even as the sound slipped from her lips, the man flicked open a knife and plunged it into Thomas’s lower back.

He stiffened, his back arching slightly, then dropped the blonde and whirled on his attacker, baring his teeth and hissing. Inez saw the brunette’s eyes widen incredulously as he shrank back, but she was already stepping between the two men.

“Thomas,” she said in low warning.

For a minute, Inez thought he’d knock her aside and go after the brown-haired Brit, but a shout and the sound of pounding feet made them both glance around to see two uniformed members of the Amsterdam police force rushing toward them. Thomas growled at the sight of them, and then Inez suddenly found herself caught under one arm like a football as he charged up the walkway away from the police.

Inez was aware of their passing from light to darkness to light once more, and thought they were on the main street again. She heard people gasping and exclaiming in surprise as he whizzed up the street, dodging the crowds of pedestrians and knew this couldn’t be a good thing. That was when Inez realized just how much the Sweet Ecstasy was affecting Thomas. She’d assumed that the concentrate would just affect his body, but now she knew it had to be affecting his mind as well. He’d bared his teeth in public, for heaven’s sake and now was drawing attention to them with this superhuman rush up the road.

The good thing was that at the speed he was moving, it was doubtful anyone was getting enough of a look at either of them to be able to describe them later. Still, staying hidden was a creed among his people. They spent most of their lives trying not to draw attention to themselves. She knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Inez had barely realized this when Thomas turned a corner and slowed so abruptly her stomach lurched. In the next moment she found herself upright and able to breathe again as he set her on her feet.

Inez stumbled, her legs not quite ready to support her, but Thomas simply held her upright with a hand under her arm and urged her forward, and into a building. They were halfway across the lobby before she realized they were back at the hotel. Inez supposed she shouldn’t be so surprised, he’d certainly moved faster than the tram and it really hadn’t been that long a ride on the tram in the first place.

They were on the elevator and the doors were closing before she glanced out and noticed the startled looks the few people in the lobby were giving them. Frowning, she glanced to Thomas, afraid he was still flashing his teeth, but he wasn’t and then she glanced down and noticed the knife still sticking out of his lower back.

“Oh God,” she breathed, feeling the blood rush out of her head.

Thomas didn’t even look her way. His eyes remained fixed on the lighted numbers over the elevator doors. Biting her lip, Inez reached toward the knife, thinking to pull it out without warning so that it would—hopefully—hurt less, but let her hand fall back before she touched the handle. She simply couldn’t bring herself to do it and didn’t think she’d be able to do it even with his knowing.

The elevator dinged as it came to a halt, and she glanced around as the doors opened, then followed quickly when Thomas stepped out and started up the hall. She was so distracted staring at the knife sticking out of his back that Inez didn’t notice that his steps were unsteady until they’d nearly reached their suite.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously, moving up to his side to peer at his face. Her alarm only increased when she saw how pale he was. “Thomas?”

“No, Inez, I’m not all right. I have a knife in my back. Unlock the door, please. I can’t reach into my back pocket to get my card key.”

“Oh.” Realizing it would probably cause him excruciating pain to even attempt to retrieve the card key, Inez quickly dug hers out of her purse and unlocked the door, then rushed in and held it open for him, her concern deepening as he lurched through the door. She pushed the door closed and slid the chain on so they wouldn’t be disturbed, and then turned in time to see Thomas sink to his knees and then fall flat on his face.

“Thomas!” she cried, hurrying to his side and dropping to her knees to peer at his face. He was as white as a sheet and unconscious.

Inez sat back on her heels, her gaze sliding reluctantly to his back and the knife protruding there. He had said that the nanos repaired all injuries, but supposed they couldn’t do that while the knife was still in him. She’d have to remove it. The very idea made her groan and close her eyes, but they popped open again when a muffled chirping sound caught her ear.

In the state she was in, it took Inez a moment to realize that it was his cell phone. She glanced at the back pockets of Thomas’s jeans, but while his wallet was in one and the map was in the other, there was no sign of the phone. The fact that the sound was muffled and very faint told her that Thomas must have put it in his front pocket since the last time she’d seen him use it.

There was no way she was going to turn him over to answer it, the man had a knife in his back. Obviously, she had to get it out. Ignoring the constant buzz of his phone, she considered the knife, noting now that his T-shirt was glistening with blood and that it had made a large, dark patch starting at his waist directly below the wound and spreading out and down to almost his knees. He’d lost a lot of blood.

She had to get the knife out, and then fetch the blood from the cooler and somehow feed it to him. Inez didn’t know how she was going to do that, but she could only handle one problem at a time.

She leaned forward and reached for the handle of the knife, then suddenly straightened and launched to her feet instead. Towels. She had to have towels. She couldn’t have him bleeding all over the floor. She was in the bathroom, grabbing up every towel there was in the room when her own phone began to ring.

Inez glanced down at her purse with surprise, only now realizing she still had it slung over her shoulder. Dropping the towels, she dug out her phone, and flipped it open.

“Is this Inez?”

She frowned at the clipped voice, not recognizing it. “I…er…yes. Who is—?”

“This is Herb Longford,” the man answered, his English accent very thick. “Thomas gave me your number when he last called. He said his battery on his cell phone was running low and if I couldn’t reach him to try your mobile.”

“Oh,” she murmured with a little sigh, thinking that at least she knew who the caller had been.

There was a moment of silence, and then a pointed, “I’m calling to give Thomas the new coordinates.”

“New coordinates?” Inez stalled, wondering what to do. She had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t want anyone knowing about the incident at the restaurants, feared he might even be in trouble if anyone found out about it. She suspected flashing his teeth in public and then exhibiting his incredible speed might be big no-nos among his people.

“Yes,” Herb said impatiently. “He said he was checking the bars in the area of the last coordinates but there was no sign of his aunt. He wanted me to track her cell again. I have and if you’ll put him on the phone I’ll give them to him.”

“Oh, I—he’s…er…in the bathroom,” she lied finally. “If you give them to me, I’ll pass them along.”

“Right. Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Yes.” Inez dug in her purse one-handed in search of the small notepad and pen she always carried with her, and then lifted the phone back to her ear. “Okay, go ahead.”

Herb rattled off the information, and then said, “Give those to Thomas and I’ll go ahead and track her again in case she’s still on the move. I’ll call back if she’s at a different location.”

“Yes, thank you,” Inez finished the last word on a sigh as he hung up. Shaking her head, she put the phone away and then knelt to scoop up the towels. She had to remove the knife from Thomas’s back, feed him blood, and then go out and find the latest location and search for Marguerite on her own. It was what she was here for, to help find Thomas’s aunt, and it was what she would do, just as soon as she’d made sure that he was all right.

“You can do it,” Inez told herself as she walked back out to the living room, but her voice sounded doubtful even to herself.

Thomas still lay exactly where she’d left him. Inez set the towels on the floor beside him and then examined the knife in his back, trying to judge how deeply in it was. She decided it appeared to have gone into his back at least a couple inches and then realized her hands were trembling.

She peered at them with a frown and then moved to the bar fridge. Inez examined the contents, then pulled out one of the tiny bottles of alcohol and began to open it. She was in Amsterdam, about to pull a knife out of a man’s back, Inez couldn’t think of a better time to reach for Dutch courage.

She downed the bottle quickly, grimacing as it burned its way down her throat, then set it on top of the mini fridge and opened another. This one went down easier than the first, but didn’t taste any better. Inez started to reach for another, but then changed her mind. She wasn’t much of a drinker as a rule, and suspected the two would be more than enough. Three would probably have her unconscious on the floor next to Thomas.

Slamming the refrigerator door closed, Inez straightened and turned to approach Thomas, pleased to find that while the alcohol couldn’t possibly have hit her blood stream yet, she at least felt a little steadier. It was psychological, she supposed.

She eased to her knees and surveyed the knife again. It still made her queasy just to think about pulling the knife out, but it had to be done.

Inez stared at it for the longest time, trying to come up with a way to avoid having to do it herself. Perhaps she could order more blood and make the delivery guy do it. It was all his fault Thomas was in this state to begin with. If he hadn’t left the wrong blood here, Thomas never would have consumed a bag and been so out of control that he got himself stabbed. At least, Inez didn’t think Thomas would have acted as he had if he hadn’t been affected by the concentrated Sweet Ecstasy. He just didn’t seem to be the jealous, head-banger type. He was too considerate and…well…sweet for her to believe he would have behaved like that under normal circumstances.

Inez seriously considered the blood order idea until it occurred to her that she might get a different delivery guy, and then someone else would know about what had happened tonight and instinct was telling her that wasn’t a good idea.

“Just do it,” Inez muttered to herself impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and wrapped both hands carefully around the handle, trying not to jar it as she did. She then closed her eyes, counted to three, tightened her grip and jerked the knife up and out of his body, blinking her eyes open and glancing sharply toward Thomas’s head when he groaned in pain. Unfortunately, Thomas’s head was turned to the other side and she couldn’t see if he was awake. However, when he didn’t make another sound, she dropped the knife on the towels, and then had to move that towel aside so she could retrieve another one.

Turning back to Thomas, Inez tugged his T-shirt quickly from his jeans and peered at the wound, grimacing at the sight of the blood seeping out. It seemed to be flowing from him rather quickly. Biting her lip, she covered the wound with the towel and pressed down firmly, holding it there for a few minutes before lifting the now bloody towel away to see what was happening.

Thomas had said the nanos repaired and regenerated, but apparently it wasn’t instantaneous like the vampires on television. The wound was still there, though it did seem as if the bleeding was slowing down. She pressed the towel to the wound again, waiting another few moments, and then lifted it for another inspection. The bleeding had definitely slowed down now.

Letting her breath out on a sigh of relief, Inez set the used towel aside and grabbed another, laying this one lightly over the wound, just to make sure the little bit of blood still seeping out didn’t run down his side and drip on the floor, then she stood and moved to the cooler to retrieve a couple of bags of blood. Inez carried them back to Thomas and knelt beside him again, only to stare at him uncertainly. She had no idea how she was supposed to get the blood into him. If he were on his back, she’d just pop a hole in the bag and let it run into his mouth and hope he swallowed it. However, he was on his stomach.

Inez considered the problem for several moments and then sighed and simply laid the bags of blood beside his head so that he’d find them when he woke up.

If he woke up, Inez thought and frowned, but then recalled his saying that immortals couldn’t be killed by most injuries. Not even a stake through the heart could kill them if it was removed quickly enough.

He’d wake up, she reassured herself. But now she had to go out and check the latest coordinates to see if she could find Marguerite. She didn’t want Thomas’s friend Herb calling back and wondering why they hadn’t checked them out. Besides it was what they were there for. She started to stand and then knelt again as she recalled his phone. There was a good possibility Bastien might call to check on their progress and she thought it best if she had the phone if he did.

Gritting her teeth, Inez snaked her hand under Thomas’s body, feeling around for his pocket. The knife was no longer in his back, but she still didn’t want to jostle him too much and possibly worsen his injury. Finding his pocket, she slid her hand inside, caught the phone in her fingers with some difficulty and eased it out, her breath exhaling on a gust of relief when she had it free.

Inez dropped it in her purse, and then slid the map out of his back pocket and put that in her purse as well as she got to her feet. She hesitated then, feeling awful about leaving Thomas lying there. After a moment, she dropped to her knees again and slid one of the folded towels under his head as a pillow, then stood and headed for the door.

Eight

It didn’t take Inez long to find the new location on the map. The next spot was a lot closer to the hotel than the others had been. It was only a few minutes walk away. Inez set out at a quick clip, eager to get this over with. She ended up on Rembrandtplein, directly in front of a huge night club with a ridiculously large queue of people in front of it. Judging by the number of people waiting outside, there must be a colossal number of people inside. It would be loud, dark, crowded, and impossible to find Marguerite.

Closing her eyes briefly, Inez prayed for strength, or at least a little energy, and then stiffened as a phone rang. Digging quickly in her purse she found her phone, pulled it out, and opened it.

“Thomas?” Herb asked.

“No, it’s Inez,” she answered, having to speak loudly to be heard over the noise around her. Before he could ask where Thomas was, she quickly said, “The last coordinates are outside a large club called Escape. There’s a huge queue out front waiting to get in and we’re checking it out now.”

Her eyes slid over the people in line, looking for the tall brunette as she continued, “But if she isn’t in the line up, which she probably isn’t since she could control the doorman’s mind and make him let her go in, then we’ll have to move the search inside. But this place is really big. I’m guessing it holds well over a thousand people, and it will be dark and noisy and crowded inside and she’ll be impossible to find. Please tell me the new coordinates are somewhere else and she was just passing by here.”

“They are,” Herb answered.

Inez let her breath out on a sigh of relief and scrambled to find her pen and notepad to write down the coordinates as he rattled them off.

“Tell Thomas I’m going to check her coordinates again while you two head over that way. If she’s still at the new location, fine. But if she’s moved on again, I think it might be smarter to leave it until morning. Once the sun rises she’ll stay in one place.”

“All right,” Inez murmured with relief. She was tired and didn’t relish the idea of running all over Amsterdam tonight in search of a woman who was proving to be a ghost.

Inez said goodbye and hit the off button and then glanced down at her purse as the sound of ringing came from its depths.

Thomas’s phone, she realized and knew it would be Bastien checking on what was happening. Sighing, she grabbed Thomas’s phone, dropped her own in the purse, and opened Thomas’s.

“Hello?”

“Inez?” Bastien sounded startled that she was answering Thomas’s phone and Inez grimaced, knowing she was going to have to lie. She hated lying.

“Thomas is in the bathroom,” she said abruptly. “We’ve been running all over Amsterdam following Marguerite’s phone and are about to check one more spot. If she isn’t at this new stop, we’re going to call it a night and wait until morning to try again. Hopefully, she’ll settle in one spot then and we’ll be able to catch up to her.”

“Oh,” Bastien said, sounding somewhat startled.

Inez grimaced, knowing it was her terse tone that had set him aback, but she couldn’t help it. She was a rotten liar. She hated doing it and didn’t do it well.

“All right then. I guess that makes sense,” Bastien murmured finally. “Tell Thomas to keep me informed.”

“I will. Good night,” Inez murmured and quickly pressed the button to end the call before he could say anything else. Muttering under her breath then, she slipped the phone in her purse and then opened the map to figure out where she had to go to get to the next location. It appeared Marguerite was heading farther away from the town center and into quieter residential streets. Curious about that, she headed out to the next spot.

Ten minutes later, Inez found herself standing in a circle of light cast by a streetlamp on the edge of a dark, public park.

Shifting uncomfortably, she peered into the dark tree-filled park, noting that a trio of young men were sitting on a bench near the center, laughing uproariously. They were loud, English, gregarious, and obviously drunk and she was reluctant to draw their attention by entering the park alone.

Having Thomas here would come in handy right now, Inez thought and wondered how he was doing. Had he woken up yet? Had he found the bags of blood she’d left lying beside him? Had he healed? The only way to find out was to call the hotel, but Inez didn’t have any idea what the hotel number was. Exhausted as she was, it seemed a lot of trouble to her to figure out the number for information in Amsterdam, call, get the hotel phone number, and then call the hotel. It would be easier just to get this over with and head back. Besides, she knew she was just stalling about going into the park alone.

“Coward,” she muttered under her breath, took one step out of the circle of light and halted again. Dark, empty parks weren’t exactly on the top of her list of safe places to go. After hesitating another moment, Inez suddenly pulled out Thomas’s phone. It was extremely quiet here away from the noisy town center and, other than the three men, the park looked empty to her, but if she were to call Marguerite’s number and her cell phone was anywhere around here, Inez thought she’d probably hear it ring and be able to follow it. She searched Thomas’s digital phonebook for Marguerite’s cell phone number, and was about to press the button to call it when she heard a scuffling sound behind her.

Turning nervously, Inez found herself staring at an approaching man dressed all in black. For one minute she hoped it was Thomas, but then he stepped into the circle of light with her and she saw that he was the thin faced, dark-haired man she’d noted at one of the tables outside the restaurants earlier, the one who had looked familiar. She’d thought at the restaurant that she must have seen him in the airport, and she had, Inez suddenly realized, but not on the way to Amsterdam. He was the man who had stolen the taxi she’d hired to follow Thomas that morning after he’d left her standing in the airport, she realized suddenly and felt alarm begin to creep up her back.

Surely it couldn’t be coincidence that she kept seeing the man? Inez thought, stepping back as he continued forward. And then her mind went blank.

The ringing phone forced Thomas back to consciousness. The first thing he became aware of was pain. It was a pain he recognized, the full body agony of the hunger for blood, the acid sensation of the nanos infiltrating organs and tissue in search of what they needed. He then opened his eyes and saw red. Literally. Thomas’s vision was filled with red. It took a moment for him to realize he was staring at a bag of blood lying directly in front of his face. The moment he did, he felt his teeth shift and shot his hand up to grab the bag and shove it into them.

A slow, relieved sigh slid around the bag in his mouth as he felt the blood rushing up his teeth and into his system. His pain began to ease at once as the nanos rushed back into his blood stream to collect the fresh blood entering. Thomas just lay where he was, ignoring the phone as he waited for the first bag to empty. The moment it did, he pulled the bag free and replaced it with the second bag lying there.

It was as he waited for the second bag to empty that Thomas’s brain began to function properly again. His first thought was to wonder how the bags had got there, and then to wonder where “there” was, and what he was doing wherever he was. It only took a quick glance around what he could see of the room to recognize the hotel suite. He was lying on his stomach on the floor, seriously depleted of blood. The second bag was nearly empty when he recalled the rest of the night and how he’d ended up where he was.

His own bloody stupidity was how he’d ended up there. No one had ever claimed horny men thought with their heads. Thomas could now verify this was true. He didn’t think he’d used his head since realizing he’d consumed a bag of S.E.C. Attacking Inez in the alley, and then attacking three drunken idiots in a fit of jealousy…

First, he’d displayed his unnatural strength by lifting the blonde off his feet with one hand, and then he’d actually flashed his fangs!

Fortunately, Thomas didn’t think anyone but the brunette had seen and no one was likely to believe the account of a half-drunk, half-stoned idiot.

Now that he was beginning to think again, Thomas was concerned about other things. Like, where was Inez? And was the knife still in his back? All it took was a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the knife was no longer protruding from his lower back. He then saw it lying on top of a towel next to a stack of three or four more fresh towels and a small pile of blood-soaked ones.

Obviously, Inez had removed the knife from his back and staunched the flow of blood, then retrieved a couple of bags for him, but where was she now? In her bed was his guess. She’d been exhausted and beginning to flag before they’d reached the small bevy of restaurants and bars where he’d had her sit at one of the tables to watch the entrances while he checked inside each.

Sighing, Thomas pulled the second, now empty, bag from his mouth and got carefully to his feet. There was only the slightest twinge from his back, telling him it was mostly healed. And the acidy cramps that had been attacking him from head to toe were much eased by the two bags, but he’d probably need another couple of bags at least before they were gone entirely. Moving to the cooler on the table, he retrieved a third bag and popped it to his teeth and then stood there with another bag in hand as he waited for this one to drain. He was about to switch bags when the hotel room phone began to ring.

Recalling that a phone’s ringing was what had woken him, Thomas tore the empty bag from his teeth and moved to the end table beside the sofa to answer it before it woke Inez.

“Thomas!” Herb sounded relieved to hear his voice. “I was getting worried. I couldn’t reach you on your cell phone or Inez’s and was beginning to think the two of you had disappeared right alongside your aunt.”

“No,” Thomas assured him quietly and reached into his pocket for his cell phone, only to find that it was missing from his pocket. Startled, he felt each of his pockets in turn, wondering if he’d put it in one of the others, but there was no phone.

“Obviously you aren’t at the park anymore. Did you find your aunt there?”

Thomas gave up looking for his phone and straightened, confusion flowing through him. “The park?”

“I checked a map, the location I sent you both to after the Escape night club should have been a park,” Herb explained. “Did you go to the wrong place? Maybe Inez misheard what I said. It sounded like it was noisy where you were.”

Thomas stood still for a minute and then barked, “Hang on.”

Setting the phone down on the end table, he turned and strode into Inez’s room. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, his night vision was exceptional and he could see the bed was still made and unslept in. Cursing, Thomas whirled to hurry out of the room, but froze as the bedroom door leading out into the hotel hall suddenly opened. Pausing, he glanced to the door. His breath came out on a sigh of relief as he recognized Inez’s petite figure stepping inside, then the door closed again. Thomas immediately moved to flip on the light switch in the room. Light exploded around them as he turned to peer at Inez, and then he saw her face and froze. It was completely blank, no expression at all and her eyes were empty.

“Inez?” he said, approaching her carefully.

She didn’t respond to either his presence or his voice until he was standing directly in front of her and then she simply moved around him, saying expressionlessly, “I’m very tired and have to go to bed now.”

Thomas turned slowly and watched her walk to the bed. She immediately began to strip, apparently uncaring that he was there. He watched her undo and shrug out of her blouse, but then turned and left the room, his expression grim with concern as he returned to the living room and picked up the phone again.

“Herb, tell me everything that you know after I called you from the restaurants,” he said grimly.

There was a moment of silence and then Herb said, “But you know what happened. I gave you the next location. It turned out to be a night club called Escape and—”

“You told me? Or you told Inez?” he asked quietly.

“Well, Inez. You were in the bathroom or something,” Herb said and then fell silent for a moment before saying, “You weren’t in the bathroom were you?”

“No. I was here at the hotel.”

“But you didn’t answer the first time I called. What—?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Thomas interrupted grimly. “Just tell me what happened.”

Herb explained about the Escape club and then sending Inez to the next spot in the park, ending with, “I checked the location again while she was on the way there, thinking that if your aunt had moved on again, we should call it a night and try at sunrise when she should stay in one spot, but it came back as the same location. However, when I tried to call you back on Inez’s phone to tell you that, she didn’t answer. So, I tried your phone again, and then I thought to try the hotel.”

Thomas was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Is this your second try calling the hotel or your first?”

“First,” Herb answered, sounding curious.

“The other call must have been Bastien, then,” Thomas muttered.

“Inez didn’t find Marguerite at the park, did she?” Herb asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Thomas said, though he wasn’t sure at this point that she hadn’t.

“Do you want me to check her location again and—?”

“No,” Thomas said quickly. He had no intention of leaving Inez alone to go looking for his aunt. At least, not until he was sure she was all right. It seemed obvious to him that someone had taken control of Inez. But why?

“No,” he repeated. “We’ll try again in the morning, at sunrise if that’s all right with you?”

“That’s fine,” Herb assured him.

“Good. Thanks, Herb. I’ll talk to you in the morning, then.”

Thomas hung up quickly, eager to return to Inez to be sure she was all right, but he’d barely taken a step away from the phone before it began to ring again. Knowing it would be Bastien, and that he’d have to tell him what happened, Thomas grimaced as he picked up the phone and said hello.

“Thomas.” Bastien sounded relieved and Thomas supposed he’d tried both cell phones before resorting to the hotel phone and—like Herb—had worried when he wasn’t able to reach them. “Was she there at the last spot?”

Thomas hesitated, and then admitted, “I don’t know if she was or not.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Bastien asked with confusion. “Either she was or she wasn’t.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas repeated and then explained the night’s events to his cousin, ending with, “Inez was blank-faced when she came in and all she said was she was very tired and had to go to bed now, and then she started to strip right there in front of me, her expression still blank.”

“Someone took control of her,” Bastien said sounding grim.

“That would be my guess,” Thomas agreed.

“You don’t think Mother would have…?” He didn’t finish the question.

“I don’t know, Bastien. I don’t know what the hell is going on. Why isn’t Aunt Marguerite answering her phone? She obviously has it on her. It isn’t walking around Amsterdam on its own.”

His older cousin was silent for a minute and then said, “I don’t know, I’m too tired to even think right now.”

“You should go to bed and get some rest,” Thomas said quietly. “You haven’t slept since I left Canada, have you?”

“No, but—”

“I don’t want to leave Inez alone right now. Not until I’m sure that coming in and going right to bed is the only order whoever controlled her put in her mind.”

“I wish you could read her memory to see what happened,” Bastien muttered.

“If she has any memory of what happened,” Thomas said quietly. “It may have been tampered with too. In fact, it probably was.”

“Yes,” Bastien agreed on a sigh. “Okay, I guess I’ll go to bed, then, but call me as soon as you find out anything.”

“I will,” Thomas assured him and the two men said good night and both hung up.

Thomas finally slapped the fourth bag of blood to his teeth, and then a fifth. The bad news was he’d lost a lot of blood from the wound to his back. The good news was he’d lost a lot of blood from the wound to his back. Thomas was pretty sure the worst of the S.E.C. was out of his system. He certainly wasn’t feeling horny right now, or if he was feeling a little, it was easily overcome by his worry for Inez.

Pulling the last bag from his teeth, he closed the cooler, and then quickly cleaned up the mess in the room, removing the knife and bloody towels. He’d have to toss the towels to prevent upsetting housekeeping, Thomas supposed. He retrieved the small clear garbage bag from the garbage can in his bathroom, put the towels and empty blood bags in, and then put his cooler on the upper shelf in his closet. Once assured that there was nothing left lying around to upset housekeeping, he went through the suite, locking all three doors leading out into the hall, the one in his room, the living room door, and finally hers.

Thomas then moved to the side of the bed to peer down at Inez. She was sleeping peacefully and he peered at her for the longest time, his eyes just drifting over her face; from her closed eyes, to her sweet nose, to her full lips, and back, and then he eased onto the bed beside her, settling himself on top of the blankets next to where she slept under them. Thomas really wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone knowing that someone had taken control of her mind. He wanted to stay near to make sure it didn’t happen again, and also to be close by in case she needed him.

Turning sideways on the bed, he watched her sleep, awed by the fact that he was lying there peering at the face of his very own lifemate. Despite the fact that Lissianna was four years younger than he and had found her own lifemate some years back, Thomas had expected to have to wait another century or so before finding his own lifemate. His male cousins had all been older when they’d finally found theirs. In fact, he was the youngest male Argeneau to find his lifemate that he knew of. And yet there she was. Inez Urso.

Thomas smiled faintly at the name. Urso was the one word he did know in Portuguese. It meant bear. He knew that because he’d had a friend with the same surname almost two centuries ago. A mortal friend, the only mortal friend he’d ever allowed himself. It was too hard to watch them age and die when you knew you yourself wouldn’t. Thomas had grieved the man’s passing, but now wondered if he might be an ancestor of Inez’s. Whether he was or not, the name Urso suited her. She was like a little she-bear when in a temper. He actually liked that. He’d found it adorable when she was babbling away at him in Portuguese, her little finger waving. Mind you, he doubted he’d have found her quite as adorable if he’d understood what she was saying.

Reaching out, Thomas brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek thinking she reminded him of an old painting he’d once seen, and that he’d be happy to wake up to that face every morning for the rest of his life. Thomas actually liked everything about Inez so far. He liked her feistiness and her intelligence. He even found her shyness adorable, and she was shy. He hadn’t realized that during their first meeting in New York. Inez had been the very personification of efficiency and command then, and she’d seemed to be pretty much in command and confident with him as well since he’d arrived in London, but he’d been coming out of the last bar when those three Brits had sat themselves at her table that night and her reaction hadn’t been what he’d expected.

Thomas supposed any woman might have felt a little leery of having three drunks pester her, but Inez had been more than leery. At first, she’d seemed completely shocked that they’d chosen to bother her, as if she had no confidence in her attractiveness. And then she’d shrunk back in her seat as if trying to make herself disappear from view. He hadn’t liked seeing her so obviously scared and uncomfortable, and that had been part of the reason he’d reacted as he had, that and the fact that she was his.

Of course, the S.E.C. probably hadn’t helped, it certainly hadn’t left him clearheaded enough to control himself and handle the situation as he should have. Or maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe his rage had been purely and simply because she was his lifemate. He had waited two hundred years for her and hadn’t liked seeing any other man trying to chat her up.

Grimacing, Thomas ran a finger lightly over her cheek, smiling when Inez shifted sleepily and instinctively turned her cheek into the caress. It was something else he liked about her, her response to him. He liked the passion she’d revealed both times he’d kissed her; when he’d kissed her the first time in London and when he’d pretty much attacked her here in Amsterdam. Inez had more than met his passion. It boded well for their future…as long as he didn’t screw it up and scare her off with he-man outbursts at bars or attacking her in alleys. So far, Thomas didn’t think he was doing a very good job of wooing the woman. That was something he’d have to work on. She obviously had some issues when it came to her attractiveness and he’d work on that as well, he decided as his eyes slipped closed.

Inez shifted in her sleep and murmured a grumpy protest as she bumped against something, and then sighed and snuggled into the warmth offered as that something wrapped around her. It was the scent tantalizing her nose that finally forced her out from under those last veils of sleep. She blinked her eyes open and peered at the black before her with confusion until she realized it was a black T-shirt, and then glanced up to find herself peering at Thomas’s sleeping face.

Inez sucked in a startled breath, her body stiffening with surprise, but not alarm. Alarm was curiously absent considering the circumstances, and the circumstances were that she had no idea how he had got there. In fact, she had no idea how she had got there either.

A glance around showed they were in her bedroom in the suite in Amsterdam, a glance down showed her that while Thomas was still completely dressed and sleeping on top of the covers, she was naked under the sheet and blankets covering her. However, she didn’t recall going to bed. The last thing she remembered was heading out to search for Marguerite after…

Inez’s gaze shifted to Thomas, looking him over with new concern as she recalled his being stabbed and her removing the knife from his back. He didn’t look pale anymore, and obviously he must have recovered enough to get up and walk in here because there was no way she could have carried him. Still, she wanted to see the wound to be sure.

Easing away out from under the arm he had wrapped around her at some point in the night, Inez pressed the sheet and blankets to her chest and rose up slightly to bend over him and try to peer at his lower back where the knife had protruded. Thomas’s T-shirt covered the spot. Biting her lip, she glanced to his behind and legs, noting the large blood stain darkening them, then reached out and gently tried to lift and move the bottom of his shirt. Unfortunately, it was stiff with blood and stuck to his skin and she glanced toward his face nervously as she lifted it away, afraid she’d wake him.

When Inez saw that his eyes were still closed, she finished shifting the material out of the way and peered at the spot where he’d been wounded the night before, her eyes widening as she saw that there was absolutely no sign of the injury anymore. Not even a tiny scar. The skin was completely unmarred, as smooth and unblemished as a newborn baby’s behind.

“It’s healed.”

Inez jerked her head to the side to see that Thomas’s eyes were now open, they were alert and it made her wonder if he’d been playing possum and been awake the whole time. Letting the T-shirt drop back into place, she eased away and then hesitated. Her first instinct was to get out of the bed, but she was naked and rather trapped there unless she wanted to flash Thomas. Inez was pretty sure she didn’t want to do that. They may be lifemates and all that, but that didn’t mean he’d see her through rose-colored glasses that would show him a long, leggy figure rather than her own imperfect one. At least, she didn’t think it would.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice having a slightly gravelly quality first thing in the morning.

“Me?” Inez asked with surprise. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Thomas asked solemnly, his hand sliding soothingly up and down her upper arm.

Inez swallowed as she noted the sudden increase of silver in his eyes. Her body responded to it like a flower opening to the sun. She could feel her nipples hardening and a slow, warm liquid pooling in her lower body. Her eyes also reacted, taking on a sudden laziness that left them at a sleepy half-mast. Inez knew she wasn’t the only one to notice the changes taking place when a slow satisfied, male smile curved his lips.

“I love the way you respond to me,” Thomas said quietly. “I love your scent as you do.”

Inez fought off the sudden urge to sniff her underarms and simply stared at him, unsure how to respond, and then his fingers slid from the outside of her upper arm to the inside, gliding perilously close to her breast. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed lightly over it, and despite his not touching it, her breast did as well in a sort of anticipation.

“Your heart is racing,” he whispered, his fingers gliding over the inside of her elbow and Inez knew he was right, it had sped up along with her breathing which was now shallow and rapid. “You want me.”

Her eyes dilated at the simple words and embarrassment almost made her deny it, but instead she managed one short, slight nod. Thomas’s smile widened with approval at her honesty as his fingers slid up her arm, but this time when they slid down, one finger shifted to tug at the top of the sheet and blankets she held to her chest. Unprepared for the move, she lost her hold on the material and it slipped out from under her fingers, pooling around her waist. Her breasts were suddenly bare and then his hand was there in place of the cloth, closing warm and firm around one.

Inez bit her lip and closed her eyes as Thomas caressed her and then opened her eyes in surprise when he suddenly sat up and replaced his hand with his mouth, his tongue hot and wet as it swirled around the nipple. He laved and teased her, alternating between sucking, licking, and nipping and sending little arcs of electricity shooting through her until she moaned aloud, and then let it slip from his mouth and raised his head to kiss her instead.

Inez kissed him back, her mouth opening to welcome him, her body leaning instinctively forward to press against his chest and then he was easing her back onto the bed, his mouth becoming more demanding before pulling away to slide to her cheek, and then her neck. Thomas followed her vein down to her collarbone, nipping teasingly as he went, and then lifted his head.

Inez blinked her eyes open to find him simply looking at her, his eyes blazing silver fire as they traveled over flesh suddenly covered with goose bumps. She stiffened and bit her lip to keep back a protest as he used one hand to sweep the sheet and blankets lower until they rested below her belly button so that he could see more of her. Her head was filling with all the flaws he must be seeing and how imperfect she was when he said, “Beautiful.”

Inez’s eyes widened incredulously at the pronouncement, but then he suddenly caught the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it off over his head and she was distracted by her first sight of his chest unclothed. Thomas, she decided, was the one who was beautiful. A work of art.

Reaching out tentatively, Inez ran one hand over the muscles of his chest as he tossed the stained T-shirt to the floor and then he turned to peer at her and caught her hand against his chest with his. Watching her face, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers before slipping one into his mouth and suckling at it lightly.

Inez gasped lightly at the sensations that suddenly jolted through her as he drew the finger slowly out. He then released her hand and bent to kiss her again. He used one hand and arm to hold his weight off of her, but the fingers of the other hand moved over her body, caressing first one breast and then the other before sliding over her rounded stomach.

Inez clutched at his shoulders and moved her legs restlessly as his hand slid beneath the sheet and blankets and across her lower stomach to one hip as he kissed her. His hand paused there, fingers tightening slightly on the outer side of her hip as his thumb ran along the sensitive flesh on top and then it continued down along her outer leg, smoothing over skin she hoped to God wasn’t stubbly.

When was the last time she’d shaved her legs? Inez wondered a bit frantically and realized it hadn’t been for two days at least. Damn! There would be stubble. It would give a whole new meaning to her last name, which she thought was perfectly apt because—like a bear—she seemed to have a lot of hair. Honestly, she seemed to even grow it in her sleep. During the day was the worst, though, she sported a five o’clock shadow on her legs after shaving them in the morning. Why had she been cursed with this body? She should have been a tall, leggy blonde with—

“Aiyeee,” Inez cried out, her eyes opening with shock as Thomas’s hand suddenly closed over the very core of her. She’d been so distracted with her self criticisms she’d hadn’t noticed that his caresses had stopped going down her outer leg and had started up the inside. She’d missed the whole upward journey…also missing that he’d broken their kiss and was now nibbling on her ear. She wasn’t distracted now, however.

“Are you back with me?” Thomas asked with amusement as his hand glided over her warm core.

Inez nodded breathlessly, her hands digging into his shoulders as he caressed her.

He chuckled against her ear and then asked in a whisper. “Where were you? What were you thinking?”

Inez would have swallowed her own tongue before telling him the truth. Unfortunately it was impossible to come up with a lie with him doing what he was doing. Much to her relief she didn’t end up having to, because the hotel phone chose that moment to begin ringing.

Thomas stiffened above her and cursed. Inez closed her eyes and silently thanked God for the intervention and making sure Thomas would never know how close he’d come to getting whisker burn on his hands from her legs. Releasing his shoulder, she reached out swiftly and snatched up the phone to draw it to her ear.

“Good morning?” Inez said with a cheer that made Thomas jerk his head up with surprise.

“Good morning, Inez,” Bastien said, sounding crisp and well rested. “How are you feeling?”

Her eyebrows rose at the sudden turn in his voice. The question had sounded solemn and concerned, but she had no idea why he’d be concerned about her. That had been Thomas’s first question too, she realized now and frowned to herself.

“I—What happened last night?” Inez asked with sudden apprehension as she searched her memories and found she had no recall of going to bed last night.

Bastien hesitated and then asked, “Don’t you remember?”

“No,” she admitted, feeling suddenly sick. Taking the phone from her ear before he could say anything else, she handed it to Thomas and then scooted off the bed, dragging the sheet and blankets with her and nearly rolling Thomas to the floor as she did.

Wrapping them around herself toga style, Inez hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She stood there in the dark for a moment, trying to calm down. Her stomach had always reacted to her upset, and if she didn’t calm down she was likely to be kneeling over the toilet retching in a minute.

Closing her eyes, Inez concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to breathe more slowly. When she thought she had herself at least a little calmer, she felt along the wall beside her until she found the light switch and then flicked it on. Inez blinked in the sudden explosion of light and then peered at herself in the mirror. The sheet and blanket were gathered around her in a lopsided collection, her hair was wild about her head, and her eyes were a little wild and a lot scared.

“Why don’t I remember coming back to the hotel and going to bed last night?” she asked herself silently. The answer she was afraid of was that she didn’t remember because someone had taken those memories away…and the only people she knew who could do that were immortals, but who and why? The fact that she’d landed back here in her own bed in their hotel with Thomas lying beside her worried Inez. If she’d found Marguerite, the woman could have controlled her, but why? Why would any immortal want to control her and put her in her bed with Thomas? Except maybe Thomas. He’d been suffering under the effects of the Sweet Ecstasy Concentrate last night. Had he…?

Inez killed the thought before it was fully formed, but she was terrified that the truth was that Thomas could read and control her after all. Maybe they weren’t lifemates at all.

Nine

“Is Inez all right? She sounded upset.”

Thomas forced his eyes away from the bathroom door and turned his attention to the phone in his hand. Pressing it more firmly to his ear, he said, “I think she realizes she’s been controlled.”

“That usually only happens if they don’t put in a replacement memory,” Bastien said slowly.

Thomas grunted acknowledgment. “I wonder why they wouldn’t have?”

“Maybe they wanted her to know.”

Thomas stiffened at the suggestion. “Why would they want that?”

A long silence passed as they both considered what might be behind Inez being controlled, but it seemed obvious neither of them could come up with a reason.

“We won’t be able to solve this,” Bastien acknowledged unhappily.

“No,” Thomas agreed. “At least not until we find Aunt Marguerite.”

“Speaking of which,” Bastien murmured. “I know I was supposed to wait for you to call me, and I have been waiting most patiently. But when it got so late, I thought maybe—”

Thomas cursed as his eyes hit the bedside clock and he saw that it was well after ten A.M. He’d slept longer than he’d intended.

“Thomas?”

“I slept in,” he admitted unhappily as he sat up. His gaze slid to the bathroom door as he heard the shower come on, and then he assured him, “I’ll call Herb right now and head out as soon as he has coordinates for me.”

Hanging up, he quickly punched in Herb’s number. The immortal had always kept odd hours, working well into the morning at times if he got into his programming. Fortunately, this was one of those days and he didn’t have to apologize for waking him.

After hanging up, Thomas stood and paced around the room as he waited for Herb to call back with coordinates. With nothing else to distract him, his mind immediately turned to Inez in the shower. She would be naked and wet in there, warm water spraying down over her body as she ran the soap over herself. He’d like to do that for her. Actually, he’d rather build up a lather between his own hands and then run them over her soft skin, across her breasts, along her sides, over her behind, between her legs…Thomas managed to get himself quite worked up with his imaginings and was on the verge of rushing into the bathroom to turn them into reality when the phone rang.

Shaking the seductive thoughts aside, he hurried to the phone to answer it.

Herb gave him the new coordinates at once and then asked, “Are you heading out right away?”

“No,” Thomas admitted slowly, a little startled by the question. “I have to shower first and dress. It probably won’t be for another ten minutes. Why?”

Herb hesitated and then said, “Because I want to call and check the coordinates again when you leave.”

“Again?” Thomas asked, his eyebrows rising. “Why? She should be sleeping now and staying in one place, that’s why we left it until morning.”

“I know, but I checked these coordinates on a street map of Amsterdam that lists buildings in the area and it’s not a hotel, it’s a strip of cafés.”

“That’s not right.” Thomas dropped back on the bed with dismay. “Aunt Marguerite isn’t a day person. Why would she be out at this hour?”

“You said she was over here in Europe on a case, maybe that’s forced her to work during the day,” Herb suggested.

“I suppose,” Thomas said with a frown. “I don’t know much about being a private detective, but they might be checking records and so on and those offices would hardly be open at night—. Could you double check the coordinates, Herb?”

“I did,” he assured him. “I actually triple checked them before calling you.”

“Oh,” Thomas said unhappily.

“I know, it doesn’t feel right,” Herb muttered. “But if they are having to work during the day…You said her partner was mortal. They may have stopped to feed him.”

“Yeah, that’s possible,” Thomas agreed.

“Right. Call me just before you leave and I’ll track it again to double check. That way, if she isn’t there when you reach the coordinates, you can just move on to the next set I come up with.”

“Right. Thank you, Herb. I appreciate all your help with this,” Thomas said, but he was still frowning as he hung up. Something wasn’t right.

His gaze slid to the closed bathroom door with new concern as his wonder about Inez being controlled and having her memory erased collided with the game of hide-and-seek they were playing with Marguerite. Why hadn’t his aunt contacted her family? She had to still have her phone on her to be moving around constantly. Had Inez found her at that park? Was Marguerite the one who had erased her memory? What the hell was going on?

Standing, Thomas crossed the room to the door, tapped lightly, and when he got no reply, eased it open.

“Inez?” he called, stepping into the room. His gaze slid to the small shower room at the end of the bathroom, and shower room was the proper term. Showers here were not enclosed little cubes like those back home, they were small ceramic-tiled rooms with a floor with a drain in the center. The showerheads were huge, dropping water down like a rain cloud. Thomas had always liked showers here. Now he peered at the closed beveled glass shower door, his eyes swimming over the flesh-colored blur that was Inez.

“Inez,” he repeated, moving to stand in front of the door when he realized she hadn’t heard him over the water.

She heard him this time. He saw her whirl to face him and saw the shape of her blur change as her hands instinctively covered the important bits. Thomas smiled faintly, imagining the startled, alarmed look on her face. A day would come when she wasn’t so self-conscious around him in the nude. He would see to that. She had a beautiful body, short but shapely and would probably keep most of that shape after her turning, thank God. He’d never been attracted to stick-thin anorexic types and couldn’t understand men who were. A woman was supposed to have curves and a little meat on them that could offer comfort to a man. At least, that was his opinion.

“Thomas?” Inez said uncertainly. He knew she wasn’t questioning whether it was him or not. Who else would be in their suite? What she was asking was what he was doing in here.

“Inez, can you tell me what happened last night?” he asked, and then added solemnly, “It’s important.

Another moment of silence followed and then she said, “You collapsed when we got back to the hotel room. I removed the knife from your back, went through a couple towels putting pressure on the wound until you stopped bleeding, then fetched a couple bags of blood, but couldn’t figure out how to feed them to you. I didn’t want to turn you on your back to lay on your wound, but couldn’t feed you the way you were, and then Herb called with new coordinates.”

“You didn’t tell him what had happened,” Thomas pointed out.

“No. I didn’t know if you’d be in trouble for flashing your teeth in public and then giving away your strength and speed,” she admitted.

Thomas grimaced at the knowledge that she’d seen him flash his fangs, but said, “Thank you.”

“Anyway, he had new coordinates and so I put the two bags of blood beside you to find when you woke up and went out to the new spot. It was in front of a night club and I knew there was no way I could search it by myself, so it was a relief when he called again with new coordinates. Bastien called right after him, and I just told him we were still tracing Marguerite’s cell and headed out. I walked a couple blocks farther on to a park.”

“And then?” Thomas prompted when she fell silent.

“And then I woke up naked in bed with you beside me,” Inez said.

Thomas frowned at the tone of her voice. She sounded uncertain and even frightened. He understood why when she spoke again.

“You didn’t control me and wipe my memory, did you Thomas?”

“No,” he said firmly, wishing she could see his face and see the truth there. “I already told you I can’t either read or control you.”

There was a moment of silence and then she asked, “So we really are lifemates, then?”

Thomas stiffened, his eyes straining to see through the beveled glass. “You know about that?”

He saw her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “The guy who delivered the blood explained it to me. I kind of blackmailed him into it,” she admitted.

Thomas shifted from one foot to the other, his hand raising toward the handle of the shower door and then dropping away. Finally, he asked, “Are you upset?”

“About what?” Inez asked with confusion, and he supposed there were several things to be upset about here. Being controlled and having her mind wiped, being his lifemate, waking up to find him in bed with her uninvited.

“About being my lifemate,” Thomas explained and then held his breath as he waited for her answer.

Inez stared through the beveled glass at Thomas’s outline. She could see that he was still bare-chested, wearing only his jeans as he had when she’d left him. She couldn’t see his expression, but could hear the worry in his voice and that surprised her. She must be misunderstanding the tone of his voice, Inez decided. Perhaps the noise of rushing water and the shape of the bathroom were distorting sound. She bit her lip and then said tentatively. “You sound worried.”

“I am,” Thomas acknowledged.

Her eyes widened at the prompt, unselfconscious admission. “Why? You’re handsome, intelligent, and sweet. Women must flock to you in droves. What do you care if—”

“Inez,” he interrupted solemnly. “None of those other women matter. I can control them and read their thoughts. They’re like pretty little blow-up sex dolls to me and every other immortal that can read and control them. They’re puppets we can make do what we want.

“There was a time when that was enough,” Thomas admitted. “I was young enough once to be pleased to have a pretty woman on my arm and in my bed even if she was nothing more than a puppet. But that passed pretty quickly. It was hard to be pleased to have a pretty woman on my arm when I could read her thoughts and knew she was thinking that I was cute enough, but the best thing was that I had money and could buy her whatever she wanted, or that while I was cute, she preferred blondes, or that she hoped to God I didn’t expect her to ruin her figure by ‘dropping babies,’ or she hoped I was into S&M because she’d really like me to spank her, or…God, you wouldn’t believe some of the things women think. Or men for that matter. They may just be passing thoughts, but it detracts quickly from their attractiveness when you can hear every one, and some of them can be hurtful even when they aren’t meant to be.

“I’ve waited two hundred years for you, Inez. For a woman who’s beautiful and intelligent and her own person, someone I can’t read or control and who can’t read and control me. A woman who can stir my passions like you do and whose passion I can enjoy without hearing her litany of worries about whether I think her butt is too big, or her breasts too small.”

Inez bit back the sudden laugh that tried to burst past her lips as she recalled her own worries while Thomas had been caressing her. Despite her worries about being controlled and having her memory wiped and whether Thomas had done it, the first thing she’d done on getting into the shower was shave her legs and under her arms. Inez was terribly glad he hadn’t been able to read her thoughts while she’d been worried about stubble on her legs, but was also glad to know she wasn’t the only one who had worries like that in her head at such intimate moments.

“Yes, I’m worried. Actually, that’s putting it mildly. Truthfully, I’m scared shitless. I’m afraid you won’t find me as attractive as I find you, that my personality and lifestyle are too easygoing for a woman who is usually so competent and confident in business, that—”

“I’m not always confident and competent,” Inez admitted, worried that he might lose some of his attraction to her when he realized she wasn’t the perfect woman he was describing. Still, he would find this out soon enough and if they were to be lifemates. “I am at work, but socially I’m less so. I’m—I know I’m smart and good at what I do at work, but personally and socially…”

“I suspected as much when I saw how you reacted to those three men joining you at the table,” Thomas admitted. “But most people aren’t as confident as they may appear. Besides, that will change after the turn. The nanos keep you at your peak condition. You’ll know you’re the perfect you and have more confidence because of it.”

Inez didn’t hear anything beyond “that will change after the turn.” Those words reverberated in her head and when he fell silent, she asked, “After the turn?”

“If you agree to be my lifemate, Inez, you’re agreeing to become an immortal, to live out your life with me,” he said quietly. “Some immortals don’t insist on their lifemate turning if she or he doesn’t wish to. They spend what little time one lifetime allows because its all they can have. But I won’t do that, Inez. I don’t want you for forty or fifty years. It will just hurt that much more when I lose you. I would insist on your becoming immortal too.”

Inez just stood there, his words echoing in her head. She hadn’t considered that he’d expect her to turn. Miss Details had missed that one. Actually, she hadn’t even really thought about the fact that it was possible. She’d been too enraptured by the idea that here was a ready-made mate without the necessity for a long, drawn-out courtship that she could possibly bungle as she’d bungled so many relationships in the past.

The biggest complaint Inez had heard from past boyfriends had been that she was always working and hardly spent any time with them, yet she hadn’t thought of work once since meeting Thomas, she realized. Perhaps she’d just needed the right man to distract her and she’d have to say Thomas was a great distraction. However, she’d have to become like him to have him; an immortal.

Inez considered the idea, trying to imagine living for hundreds of years…with Thomas. Oddly enough, the idea of living centuries was rather daunting until she added the “with Thomas” part. It was still daunting, but…

Who was she kidding? Inez thought grimly. It was more than daunting. Living centuries might sound like a great idea on first hearing it, but Inez instinctively looked for the problems inherent in any plan. It was why she was so good at what she did. She spotted possible future problems and did what she could to prevent them from being problems before they even cropped up.

Inez was seeing a lot of possible problems with being immortal. His people had to remain hidden, unnoticed by the mortals around them. She imagined that put a lot of restrictions on them as a whole.

There was also the fact that she would have to watch her own family age and die while she didn’t. Inez knew instinctively that this would be difficult for her. While she didn’t live close to her family at the moment because of her job, she loved them dearly and called and even visited often. Inez knew she would experience guilt and helplessness as they aged, and with her take-charge and fix-it attitude would want to fix things so they didn’t. Somehow she didn’t think she’d be allowed to turn her whole family, but could she not?

And then there was that whole blood deal. Inez had never really thought of herself as squeamish, but the idea of consuming several bags of blood every day for the rest of her very long life was just gross.

“Inez?” Thomas spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.

Her gaze focused on the blurred image beyond the glass and Inez almost sighed. Here was temptation; this beautiful man with his perfect face and perfect body and lovely silver blue eyes. Not to mention his tantalizing kisses and caresses. She wanted him, but knew it was like wanting the chocolate sundae without the calories. Unfortunately, the bad came with the good. But maybe she could have just a bite of the sundae while she considered whether she could stomach the calories that came with the rest of it.

“I don’t expect you to make up your mind right now,” Thomas said. “But—”

His voice died as Inez pushed the shower door open so that they faced each other with nothing between them. Forcing herself not to drop into a huddle to try to hide her too generous figure, she said, “I think I need to get to know you better to make such an important, life-long decision.”

Thomas’s eyes flared silver as his gaze slid over her, and then he started forward, coming to an abrupt halt when Inez put out her hand to stop him. He frowned with confusion until she said, “Your jeans.”

Glancing down as if he’d forgotten he was wearing them, Thomas reached for his belt buckle, but then stopped. He stood like that for a moment, his head bowed, hands still on his belt, long enough that Inez began to worry that he’d changed his mind and didn’t want her. Finally, he raised his head and reached out to tug her to the lip of the shower so he could kiss her hungrily.

Sighing with relief, Inez melted against him, her arms twining around his head as she kissed him back. He ended the kiss slowly, raising one hand to run it over her wet hair and cup her head as she blinked her eyes open.

“I want you,” he growled.

Inez nodded. She wanted him too. That was the one thing she was sure of.

“But Herb gave me new coordinates and we don’t have a lot of time.”

Inez drooped with disappointment as she realized he was rejecting her, but he continued.

“And I don’t want our first time to be rushed, or interrupted, or while I’m distracted. I want it to be special and slow. I want to give you the attention and time you deserve.”

Inez swallowed, feeling tears suddenly glaze her eyes at his words. He was such a sweet considerate man…and right at that minute she almost wished he wasn’t. She didn’t want consideration. Inez wanted hot sweaty sex in the shower. She wanted to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“I want to do this so that I can give you so much pleasure that you can’t resist agreeing to be my lifemate,” Thomas added, and his words along with the grin suddenly splitting his lips made her own lips tip reluctantly into a smile.

So, okay, maybe he wasn’t rejecting her. The man was plotting her seduction as carefully as she would plan the take over of a company. No one had said Thomas was stupid. Right at that moment Inez thought she might agree to being an immortal just to get his pants off. Probably not a smart way to make the decision, she acknowledged. Act in haste; repent at leisure as they said, so she wouldn’t try to tempt him to change his mind. She’d accept his decision and spend some time getting to know him better and considering the pros and cons of becoming his lifemate…and an immortal.

Her thoughts died an abrupt death and she jerked in surprise as he suddenly slapped her wet behind.

“So finish your shower and get dressed. We have to get moving.”

“I’m done in the shower,” she said, straightening away from him as his arms slipped away. “You can take it over if you like. The water’s already warm.”

“I think I will,” Thomas said and then glanced around and frowned. “You have no towels in here.”

“Oh.” She tsked with exasperation at her lack of forethought. “I took them out to the living room last night. I’ll go get them and bring one for you too—” Her words died and her eyes widened in surprise as Thomas suddenly urged her back under the shower.

“Stay there and keep warm. I’ll fetch the towels,” he said and closed the door.

Inez stared through the beveled glass as he zoomed out of the room and then shook her head and closed her eyes as the water rushed over her. He really was a very considerate man. That was very important. Of course, men were often more considerate when wooing a woman than they were once they’d landed her, but even if Thomas’s consideration dropped in half later, he’d still be far more considerate than any of the mortal men she’d known in her life. Inez supposed she had Marguerite to thank for that.

Her thoughts turned to the missing woman and her hunt for her last night. Thomas had said that he hadn’t controlled her or wiped her memory, but someone had. She was beginning to think there was a lot more going on here than any of them suspected.

Until now, Inez had half suspected Marguerite Argeneau had just got busy, perhaps following a hot lead on this case she was on, and forgot to call her family. After all, three days without contact wasn’t really that long. These were her children, not a husband or life partner. Inez only called her own mother once a week, usually on Sundays because the rates were cheaper and she had to call all the way to Portugal. They were usually long phone calls and she made them religiously, but…

Of course, the Argeneaus probably didn’t worry much about cost. Still, the woman was in Europe and they were back in Canada so surely three or four days without a call shouldn’t send her family into a panic. Even if she lived in Portugal, Inez wouldn’t worry if her own mother didn’t call her for three days.

That had been what she’d been thinking before this, but now Inez was beginning to fear she’d been wrong in that assumption. She was beginning to suspect the woman might be in trouble. Someone had taken control of her and kept her from calling Marguerite’s phone and finding her. She doubted very much if it had been Marguerite herself. That meant someone else had and she couldn’t think of any good reason for an immortal to want to keep her from finding Marguerite and setting her family’s minds at ease.

The shower door suddenly opened, breaking her train of thought and Inez smiled with gratitude when she saw Thomas holding up a bath towel for her. He held it open for her to step into, which she did.

“Thank you,” Inez whispered as he closed the towel around her.

“Anytime, beautiful,” Thomas said lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before stepping away. “Now stop standing here all wet and tempting and go get dressed so I can shower.”

“Yes, sir,” Inez said with a grin as she moved passed him to leave the room. At the door she paused and glanced back to ask, “You didn’t want help getting those nasty jeans off, did you?”

Inez grinned as the silver flared in his eyes at the very idea, but Thomas shook his head and one finger at her at the naughty thought. “I’m going to start calling you apple.”

Inez wrinkled her nose. “Why? Because I’m short and round?”

“No. Because you’re the apple sent to tempt me,” he announced and then added solemnly, “And you are tempting, Inez. If you knew all the things I want to do to you right now….” He shook his head and then apparently decided to tell her. “Right now I’d like nothing more than to peel away that towel, lick and nibble away every drop of liquid I see on your skin, and then—”

“Okay, I’m going to get dressed now,” Inez said a little faintly, her gaze dropping instinctively to his jeans and widening as she saw the bulge there. She wasn’t the only one affected by the images he’d presented.

“Go,” Thomas growled, the word almost a warning.

Nodding, Inez turned quickly away and hurried out into the bedroom. Her skin was covered with goose bumps and little shivers were licking down her back, and she suspected once they did get together, whether it was fast and desperate or slow torture as he did all he wanted to do to her, by the time it was over she’d be hard-pressed not to agree to anything he wanted.

Shaking her head, Inez moved to the closet and quickly selected a pair of dress slacks and a pure white blouse. There wasn’t a pair of jeans or T-shirt in the closet, but that didn’t matter, Inez didn’t wear jeans, they made her butt look big. She didn’t wear T-shirts either, feeling they emphasized her overgenerous bust.

Dropping the towel, Inez quickly dressed, listening to the sound of the shower as she did.

Thomas turned off the shower and opened the door to step out, stopping when he saw Inez at the bathroom counter. She’d brushed her hair and was pulling the damp strands back into a ponytail. He saw her eyes slide over him and then widen as they dropped below. Blushing furiously, she turned quickly back to the mirror.

Thomas smiled faintly as he reached for the second towel he’d brought in earlier and wrapped it around himself, but didn’t say anything to increase her embarrassment. Her reaction was because he was still sporting a very healthy erection. He wanted to blame it on the S.E.C. he’d consumed last night, but knew that was out of his system now. She, however, wasn’t and—judging by what he’d seen with other true lifemates—wouldn’t be out of his system ever. Oh, there might come a time, centuries down the road, when he could look at her without wanting to pin her against the nearest surface and give her “a good seeing to” as the British liked to say. But he would still want her, just in a more gentle, mellow fashion without all the desperation presently claiming him.

Right now he couldn’t even think of the woman without “little Thomas” perking up with interest. It was really rather disconcerting.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” he said brushing his fingers lightly down her back as he passed and smiling when she shivered in response. That was one good thing about all this; at least he wasn’t alone in his need. Inez wanted him just as badly, he knew. Thomas could smell her hunger for him in the pheromones pouring off her body every time he got near.

Thomas hurried from her room and into his own, passing through the door just as the phone began to ring. Turning to the bedside table, he snatched up the phone, saying a cheerful, “Yo?”

“Thomas?”

He stiffened at the urgency in Bastien’s voice. “Yes.”

“You have to get moving. You have to find Mother.”

Thomas felt his hand clench around the phone. “What’s happened?”

“We’ve been calling Mother on her cell phone,” Bastien said grimly. “None of us have been getting answers, but Etienne got the idea of trying during the daytime when she would be sleeping and couldn’t miss the call. He apparently checked the Internet last night and found out what time sunrise was in Amsterdam and then called fifteen minutes after that.”

Thomas waited, trepidation creeping up his back. He knew bad news was coming.

“The phone was answered this time,” Bastien said grimly. “But not by Mother. A man with a British accent answered. He cussed out Etienne for the constant calls we’ve all been making, told him to ‘bugger off’ and stop calling or he’d—I quote—‘Kill the bitch’ and then he hung up.”

Thomas sucked in a breath of combined rage and worry and then snatched up the knapsack he’d left lying on his bed and began dragging out fresh clothes one-handed. “I’m dressing right now. I’ll be on the street in three minutes. I’ll find her Bastien,” he vowed grimly.

Thomas didn’t wait for Bastien to say goodbye or hang up, but slapped the phone back in its cradle and snatched it back right away as he punched in Herb’s number.

“I’m heading out now,” he announced abruptly, not bothering with a greeting. “Can you check the coordinates again and get back to me if they’re different?”

The moment Herb agreed, Thomas said thanks and hung up.

“Inez!” he shouted as he whipped off his towel and dragged on a clean pair of jeans.

“Yes?”

He glanced up as she came rushing into the room, concern on her face.

“Are you ready?” Thomas asked, doing up his pants. “We have to move.”

“I’m ready,” Inez assured him, patting the purse hanging from her shoulder. “What’s happened?”

“Etienne got through on Aunt Marguerite’s phone,” he said as he grabbed the T-shirt he’d pulled out and tugged it on over his head. “Some guy answered and said if we didn’t stop calling he’d kill her. We have to find her before he does something to her.”

Inez nodded solemnly and he could feel her watching him as he pulled on a pair of socks and slipped his feet into a pair of casual Merrells.

“Do you think this man who answered Marguerite’s phone is the one who took control of me and wiped my memory?”

Thomas glanced sharply her way. Her voice had sounded vulnerable and she looked upset. He didn’t blame her. It would be very upsetting to know that someone had taken control of your mind and then wiped the memory of whatever had happened from your thoughts. Anything could have been done to her and she wouldn’t now know about it. Stepping in front of her, Thomas pulled her to his chest and rubbed her back soothingly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly and then said flatly, “But if he is, he’ll be sorry.”

Ten

“This is the spot.”

Inez looked slowly over the five or six restaurants in a row. Each had a grouping of tables and chairs outside. They were presently filled with people enjoying a late breakfast in the sunlight, or under the shade offered by the large umbrellas over each table.

Mouth thinning, she peered over the sea of faces, and then glanced up toward the sky where the sun shone brightly down, and finally to Thomas beside her. Worry drew her eyebrows together. He’d binged on six bags of blood before they’d left the hotel. He’d also pulled on a hat, sunglasses, and a long-sleeved shirt that was now buttoned all the way to the top to protect him as much as possible from the sun’s damaging rays, but she knew it wasn’t enough. He really shouldn’t be out here at all, but had refused to listen when she’d suggested going by herself.

Thomas’s refusal to even consider the suggestion had left her both upset and relieved. Inez was upset because she knew he really shouldn’t be out here, but relieved because after being controlled the night before, she feared it happening again and really didn’t want to go anywhere alone.

“I don’t see her,” Thomas said with frustration, and Inez turned her gaze back to the crowd, running her eyes more slowly over them, searching each table for Marguerite Argeneau.

“I don’t either,” she said at last. “But then if she’s being held against her will, they aren’t likely to take her out in public.”

“No,” Thomas muttered, his mouth tightening. “But whoever has her has her phone, and he shouldn’t be out here either.”

Inez glanced at him, eyebrows rising. “Why not?”

“He has to be immortal too,” he pointed out. “And most wouldn’t sit out in the sunlight like this.”

Inez opened her mouth to ask why it had to be an immortal, but then realized that with the whole mind-control thing, no mortal could keep an immortal where they didn’t want to be. That suggested that either Marguerite was dead, badly injured and without the strength necessary to take control of a mortal, or she was being held by an immortal who had a mortal working for him, and it was the mortal who had the phone and was seated here in the sun, eating a leisurely brunch. She was hoping it was the last option.

“The person with her phone could be anyone… If her phone is even still here,” she pointed out as his phone began to ring.

Thomas tugged the cell out of his pocket, flipped it open, listened, grunted an “okay,” and then slapped it closed.

“That was Herb. It’s still here,” he announced, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Inez was silent, her eyes scanning the sea of faces, but she had no idea who she was looking for. “You’re going to have to call and see who answers the phone.”

“No,” Thomas said at once. “He threatened to kill Aunt Marguerite if we keep calling.”

“He can’t kill her if she isn’t here with him,” Inez pointed out reasonably. “And after you call and figure out who he is, you can read his mind to see where she is and we can go get her.”

“Not if he’s an immortal,” Thomas pointed out unhappily. “If he’s older than me, I won’t be able to read him.”

“But an immortal isn’t likely to be out here,” she argued.

“Not likely, no,” he agreed. “But not impossible. I’m here.”

“Yes, but—Never mind,” she interrupted herself. “We’ll call him and if he’s mortal, you read him and find out where she is. If he’s immortal and you can’t read him, we keep our distance and follow him back to wherever he’s staying.”

“What if he’s inside one of the restaurants instead of outside?” Thomas asked, his eyebrows threaded with worry.

Inez hesitated and then sighed. “We’ll have to take the chance.”

Thomas turned on her sharply, eyes flashing with anger.

“Surely if he was inside, the coordinates would have been on the next street over where the restaurant fronts are,” she pointed out quietly. “This is behind the buildings. And to safeguard things, I can call. My number won’t be on her phone. He won’t know it’s a family member. He might not blame her for it.” She let him think about that and then added, “It’s either that or we follow the phone around all day again and hope he goes somewhere where he’d be completely alone and we can figure out who he is, but I don’t think the chances of that are very good in a crowded city like Amsterdam.”

Thomas blew a weary breath out and then nodded once, grimly. “Make the call. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll think it’s a wrong number.”

Inez nodded solemnly and quickly punched in the number he rattled off, but didn’t press the button to start the call, instead she glanced at Thomas and said, “I think you should take one half of the restaurant tables and I should take the other half. If we positioned ourselves halfway along our portion of the restaurant seats, it would give us a better chance of hearing where the ring comes from when I call.”

Thomas nodded and abruptly turned away, only to immediately swing back. He gave her a quick, hard kiss and then growled, “Be careful.”

Inez smiled faintly as she watched him walk to the other end of the groupings of tables until he was at about the three-quarter point. She then moved herself to the quarter point and glanced down at her phone. The air was full of the sound of people talking and the clink of dishes, but there were no phones ringing at that moment. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the button to dial Marguerite’s number and then glanced up. A bare second later a phone began to ring, playing some sort of jazzy digital sound.

Eyes sharpening, Inez glanced quickly over the tables and was just skipping her gaze over one of the nearer tables when one of the young men seated there pulled something from his pocket. A cell phone. He peered at the caller ID, cursed and then muttered with disgust, “Stupid phone! It’s always ringing.”

“Why don’t you toss it or change the chip or something?” one of his buddies suggested.

The fellow with the phone shrugged. “Because until they shut it down it’s free calls for me, isn’t it?”

Inez snapped her phone closed and the ringing immediately stopped. She watched grimly as the young man slid the phone back in his pocket.

“He’s mortal,” Thomas growled as he joined her.

Inez nodded, but remained silent as he concentrated his gaze on the young man. Knowing he was reading him, she waited patiently, but bit her lip worriedly when she saw his expression turn down with displeasure. He didn’t like whatever he was learning. That couldn’t be good for Marguerite.

She glanced toward the table of men, eyes widening when she saw the one with the phone suddenly stand and murmur something to his friends and then head away from the table and toward them. Inez felt her alarm increase with every step he took toward them. It wasn’t the fact he approached so much as the fact that his face was oddly expressionless as he did. She suspected Thomas was controlling him.

“Thomas,” she hissed, afraid he intended to do something to the man right there in front of everyone. She’d seen him lose control in public the night before, and didn’t want to see it again. When he didn’t respond, she glanced nervously back to the young man, blinking as she realized he wasn’t approaching them at all, but walking past them.

“Grab us a table and order us both breakfast, please, Inez. I’ll be right back.”

“But——” She watched with concern as Thomas walked away around the corner after the mortal, then let her breath out on a sigh and turned to survey the busy tables. There were two available. One outside the nearest restaurant and one farther down by where Thomas had been standing when she’d placed the call. The farther one was in the shade, however, so Inez settled herself there. She took the seat that gave her the best view of the corner and then stared fixedly in that direction until a waitress appeared at her elbow, distracting her.

Inez took the menu offered, glanced over it quickly and ordered two full breakfasts and two cappuccinos and then returned to watching the corner as the woman left her alone. Thomas seemed to be gone a long time, but then that might have been just because she was worried. When she finally saw him coming back around the corner, he was alone and looked just as unhappy as he’d been when he left. He was also talking on his cell phone. To Bastien, no doubt, Inez thought as she watched him walk toward her.

Thomas finished his conversation and snapped his phone closed just as he reached the table.

“What happened?” she asked worriedly as he settled in the chair next to hers.

Thomas put his own phone away, even as he set a second one on the tabletop. “I got Marguerite’s phone back.”

Inez stared at it blankly and then glanced to Thomas to ask, “What about your aunt?”

“Good question,” he said wearily and then explained, “The mortal and a friend mugged Aunt Marguerite outside the Dorchester a couple days ago. Apparently, there were two cell phones in the purse, a sizeable bit of money, and credit cards. He took one phone, the buddy took the other, and they split the cash.”

“What about the credit cards?” Inez asked.

Thomas grimaced. “They’re just small-time thieves. They had no idea what to do with them. They tried to get their girlfriends to go out and run them up, but they’re obviously Canadian credit cards and both women are British, with British accents, and were afraid of getting caught. When they refused, the cards were tossed.

“Aunt Marguerite had about three thousand pounds in her purse,” he added dryly and cursed. “I’m forever warning her about carrying around large sums of money, but she just laughs and says, who could rob her? Well now she knows.”

“How did they rob her?” Inez asked. “Your people are supposed to be stronger and faster.”

Thomas shifted impatiently. “We’re stronger and faster, but even we can’t outrun motorcycles. He and the buddy apparently had a good thing going, riding along the street until they saw a woman who looked like she had money and appeared distracted. His buddy would steer the bike up onto the sidewalk, he’d hook his arm through the strap, and away they’d go.”

Inez stared at him wide-eyed.

“I gather they hurt one of the tourists they mugged, though,” Thomas went on. “She either got tangled up in, or wouldn’t let go of, the purse and got badly burned when they dragged her for a block or so before he had the sense to let go of it himself. A hurt tourist is a bad thing in London, a city where tourism is so lucrative. The police started hunting for them, so it seemed to him like a good idea to take the little windfall he’d got courtesy of Aunt Marguerite and split to Amsterdam for a while to mug tourists here.”

Inez sat back in her seat with dismay. “You mean we came here for——”

“Nothing,” he finished with a weary nod. “This whole trip to Amsterdam and playing hop-scotch across town tracking and chasing her cell phone has been a complete waste of time.”

Inez shook her head in slow dismay, but glanced to the side and sat back as the waitress appeared with their cappuccinos and breakfasts.

“Thank you,” she murmured, peering down at the breakfast before her. It looked and smelled delicious and despite her upset over what she’d just learned, Inez was positively starved. She hadn’t eaten since the airport the day before, which really wasn’t so long ago, but it felt like it was. A lot had happened in that time and between one thing and another, she’d used up a lot of energy since then as well.

Thomas closed his hand over hers and Inez glanced at him with surprise.

“Eat,” he murmured giving her hand a squeeze. “Bastien is arranging a flight back to London for us.”

Inez nodded and picked up her fork, relaxing a little when he picked up his own and dug in. Eating was also a sign of finding a lifemate, she recalled the delivery guy telling her, and Thomas was eating. He had also had a meal with her in the pub at the airport the day before; though, he’d only ordered breakfast for her when he’d arrived at the Dorchester—but, then, that had been an apology of sorts, she recalled and was amazed to realize this whole adventure had started little more than twenty-four hours ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed, Inez thought and then changed her mind. No, not really. It was strange, this day and a bit had passed quickly enough, but she felt like she’d known Thomas a lifetime.

“I take it you like cats.”

Thomas glanced up from the black cat and two tabbies he was alternately petting, and smiled faintly. “I love them.”

Inez nodded with amusement and said, “And they seem to love you in return. We’ve picked up a new cat to trail us in each room.”

“Jealous?” Thomas asked with a grin.

Inez chuckled as he straightened and the three cats immediately began to twine around his legs, meowing plaintively at being abandoned. Shrugging mildly, she raised her gaze back to his face. Arching one eyebrow, she asked lightly, “Why would I care if you enjoy playing with pussy? I’ve only known you a day.”

Thomas’s eyes widened incredulously at the sally. When she then turned away and headed out of the room, he stepped carefully over the still-complaining cats and hurried after her. Thomas found Inez standing just inside the door of the next room, gaping up at the painted ceiling. Thomas didn’t even glance up. He’d been to the Kattenkabinet before and thought it was charming, that was why when he’d learned that Bastien hadn’t managed to book them on a flight until that evening, he’d suggested he and Inez tour around Amsterdam while they were here. He wanted to show her a bit of one of his favorite cities.

A night tour would have been better, of course. It wasn’t really in his best interests to stay out in the sun long, but Bastien had had enough blood delivered to the hotel to last for several days in the normal course of things. Thomas suspected he’d use up most of it in this one day and was now carrying a black collapsible cooler filled with several bags, enough to keep him going until they had to go back to the hotel to collect their things and head to the airport. They’d headed back to the hotel after their breakfast, stopping in a luggage shop on the way when Inez realized she had nothing in which to pack away all the things Bastien had ordered, purchased, and delivered to the hotel for her.

Thomas had spotted the collapsible cooler while in the shop and had purchased it, as well as a good-sized suitcase for Inez. Thomas had consumed several more bags of blood while he waited for Inez to pack, then had put the rest in the cooler and slung it over his shoulder before setting out.

He’d considered taking Inez to the Rijksmuseum, but one could easily spend a whole day there and he’d wanted her to see more of the city than just a museum. So they’d utilized the shadier areas and walked here to the offbeat and much smaller Kattenkabinet in a leisurely fashion, enjoying the sights and sounds of this most unique city. Inez had peered around at the seventeenth-century houses with wide eyes and Thomas had been a little wide-eyed as well since he’d never actually walked the streets here in daylight. It had been nice.

“You didn’t ask why I love cats,” he commented finally when she continued to ignore him and began to move toward the window to peer into the gardens behind the house, dedicated to anything and everything to do with cats.

“Why do you love cats?” she asked indulgently.

“Because they’re intelligent, independent, graceful, subtle, and mysterious…” Thomas tilted his head slightly and commented, “Rather like you in fact.”

“Me?” Inez asked, glancing at him with surprise and then chuckled softly and shook her head. “I’m not the least mysterious.”

“You are to me,” he countered solemnly. “And I like it.”

Inez met his gaze, and then glanced toward the window as one of the cats leapt up onto the sill and lay down in the sunshine. Reaching out, she petted the cat and said, “Well, I’m not subtle either.”

“You are,” he assured her.

She chuckled wryly, “I hardly think my berating you wildly when I arrived at the hotel was subtle behavior.”

“No?” Thomas grinned. “You berated me in Portuguese. For all I knew you were telling me I was the sexiest thing you’d seen in your life.”

“In your dreams,” Inez chuckled.

“Yes,” he agreed and, when she glanced at him in surprise, added, “And much about you is subtle. You are intelligent, but don’t flaunt it, quietly confident in your business abilities, you’re able to make refined distinctions and judgments, and then there is your beauty and sex appeal.”

Her lips had parted slightly with surprised pleasure at his words until the last one, and then they pressed together firmly and Inez shook her head and assured him, “I am no beauty and sex appeal is not even in my vocabulary.”

“You have both,” Thomas responded solemnly. “But both are delicate and understated, not the bold brassy stuff some women flaunt. For instance, you have lovely, wild hair.”

Inez grimaced with distaste. “I have wild hair, all right. I can’t do a thing with it.”

“But it’s soft and sexy and makes you look like you’ve just climbed from bed after making love for hours…and it makes a man think of making love to you for hours.”

Inez stilled, her head bowed, her hand unmoving on the cat.

“And your lips are full and soft and slightly swollen as if you’ve just been kissed. It makes a man think of kissing you,” Thomas continued, and then reached out to run his fingers lightly over the sleeve of the blouse she’d changed into for the flight home when they were back at the hotel. “And you favor silk blouses, wearing them buttoned higher than most so that just the barest hint of cleavage shows, enough to make a man wish he could see more.”

Thomas let his hand drop away, brushing it lightly over her derrière as he added, “And well-cut slacks in a draping material that fall over the curve of your behind, making a man wish to follow that curve with his hand.”

Inez finally turned marveling eyes to him and whispered, “Boy, you’re good at this seduction business. A girl could fall in love with a guy like you.”

Thomas caught her face in his hands and assured her sincerely, “Every word I’ve spoken is true, Inez. That’s how I see you and how I’m going to make you see yourself. I promise.”

Seeing the soft sheen of tears in her eyes, he lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to first one brow, then the other. He was about to press a kiss to her lips as well, when the tabby on the window sill suddenly stood and decided to join the party. Launching itself onto its back legs, it rested a front paw on his arm and head-butted his chin as if to say, “Hey, buddy! What about me?”

Thomas and Inez both chuckled at the demanding behavior and then she broke free with a laugh and said, “What was that you were asking me about jealousy? It looks to me like you were asking the wrong feline.”

He grinned and collected the cat into his arms to scratch it under the chin.

Inez shook her head at his indulgence and said, “Now, it’s behavior like that that has always made me a dog person.”

Thomas glanced after her with surprise, following when he realized she was leaving to head into the next room. “Are you really a dog person?”

“Of course,” she answered idly, running one hand along the built-in buffet in the dining room. “Dogs are loyal, affectionate, direct, kind, helpful, and playful. What’s not to love?”

“I’m loyal,” he informed her, watching her move around the room. “Affectionate too.”

“You’re also direct and kind,” she agreed. “And even helpful and playful.”

Thomas smiled as she walked to the door and then she glanced back and teased lightly, “You’re definitely a dog.”

Grinning, Thomas set the cat down on the floor and trailed her out of the room.

“Are you following me, mister?” she teased lightly when he entered the next room.

“Of course, it’s what dogs do,” he pointed and then added with a wicked grin, “They chase pussy.”

Inez burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re bad.”

“You started it,” Thomas said promptly and caught her hand to draw her against his side and steer her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go find a café, I’m hungry again.”

“But there are two more rooms,” she protested.

“I’ll bring you another time,” he assured her, urging her to the stairs leading to the main level.

“Promise?” Inez asked quietly.

“Most definitely.” He hugged her to his side and then released her to descend the stairs.

They found a café with a few tables outdoors. Thomas settled Inez at one in the shade, took a quick glance at the menu, and waited for the waitress to take his order before excusing himself. He slipped inside to find the men’s room, then fed on a couple of bags of blood.

Inez was smiling faintly when he returned. When he raised his eyebrows in question, she gestured vaguely to the people passing by and said with a shrug, “People watching is just so interesting here.”

Thomas glanced around at the people walking and biking by.

“Like, look at that,” Inez said, pointing to a family riding by; mother and father, both with child seats on the back, occupied by young children. “And that.”

Thomas followed her gesture to an approaching couple. A smile curled his own lips as a woman appearing to be in her early twenties pedaled passed, craning her head slightly to see around a man of about the same age perched on the handlebars.

“Definitely a modern couple,” Inez murmured. “And look! A girls’ day shopping.”

Thomas turned his head again, his eyes twinkling as he saw three women riding together, shopping bags bristling from hands grasping their handlebars.

He glanced back to Inez to see her shaking her head in wonder as she said, “I think I love this city.”

I think I love you. The thought ran through Thomas’s head, startling him because it was true. He’d never met anyone like Inez before and while he hadn’t known her long, he’d come to know her well because of the circumstances.

The woman was fearless; standing up for herself and berating him when she’d thought he’d ignored her at the airport after her rush to collect him. Then there was her removing the knife from his back, tending his wound and heading out alone in the middle of the night, in a strange city to hunt down his aunt when he couldn’t accompany her. He admired that courage.

Inez was intelligent too. It shone in her eyes and slipped from her lips every time she spoke to make a suggestion or observation.

And while she could be businesslike and commanding, she also had a good sense of humor, and a quick wit.

Thomas also knew he could depend on her to step up to the plate and do what was necessary in difficult situations. Exhausted as she’d been last night, she’d accompanied him into the Red Light District to help…without either irritation or complaint. She simply did what had to be done.

Yes, she was a special woman. The fates had been kind and wise in choosing her for his lifemate. Now he just had to convince her of it.

“I’ve been thinking, if—”

Thomas focused his gaze on Inez, but she’d stopped speaking and sat back. Glancing to the side, he saw that the waitress was there with their orders and sat back himself for her to set them down. Once the woman was gone, he raised an eyebrow at Inez and prompted, “You were thinking?”

“Well, you said Bastien had checked Marguerite’s credit card. Did he check this Tiny person’s credit card as well?”

“Yes,” Thomas said, his mood suddenly solemn as he was reminded of his missing aunt. “There is no activity on his cards either.”

Inez nodded. “So, has he checked the cards of the guy she’s working for?”

Thomas peered at her blankly. “What?”

“Well, either you or Bastien told me that the last place you knew Marguerite had been was the Dorchester Hotel? That she was there to meet with this Notte fellow who hired them to find his mother.”

“Yes,” Thomas said slowly. “She told Bastien they were hoping to get more information out of him, something useful to help them with their search.”

“Well…” Inez shrugged. “Maybe the reason neither Tiny nor Marguerite have used their own credit cards is because this Notte guy has joined them in the search and is footing the bill.”

“Jesus,” Thomas breathed, staring at her. It was such a simple suggestion, but neither he nor Bastien, nor presumably anyone else in the family had come up with it.

“What’s wrong?” Inez asked with a concerned frown. “You’re staring at me funny.”

“I’m staring at you thinking you’re brilliant,” he explained on a laugh and shook his head. “I can’t believe you came up with that. Actually yes, I can. What I really can’t believe is that not one member of our family came up with that. Christ, we’re supposed to have nano brains.”

Inez grinned and teased, “Would that be very tiny, little miniscule brains?”

“It would seem so,” Thomas said wryly, reaching for his phone.

Inez shook her head. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re all just too close to the situation and too worried. You’d have come up with it on your own eventually.”

“Thankfully we’ll never know if that’s true because you came up with it,” he said, pushing the speed dial button for Bastien and raising the phone to his ear.

Inez began to eat as he talked to his cousin and told him what she’d come up with and Thomas found himself watching. His eyes followed every movement as she lifted the food to her mouth and slipped it in and he marveled at how dainty and sexy she was about it. As tidy as a cat, he thought and smiled to himself, then forced his attention back to Bastien’s words. The man was both excited by the suggestion, and full of self-disgust that he hadn’t thought it up himself and saved them this wasted time.

Thomas told him not to beat himself up, pointing out what Inez had said; that they were too close to the situation and their worry had clouded their thoughts somewhat.

“Does he have a way to trace Notte’s credit card?” Inez asked as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Thomas nodded. “We have friends everywhere. And if we don’t, we can send someone in to make new friends.”

“You mean control them,” she said dryly.

Thomas nodded in acknowledgment, but they had both stopped smiling. He was thinking about the fact that she’d been controlled and had her memory wiped, and knew she was too.

“If Marguerite isn’t even here in Amsterdam, why control me and erase my memory?” Inez asked suddenly.

Thomas frowned as he tried to reason it out. “Herb said the location turned up the same the second time he checked it while you were on the way to the park. He said you should have found Aunt Marguerite there.”

“But it wasn’t your aunt,” Inez said quietly, picking up on his train of thought and then added, “It was that mugger who had the phone in the park. He couldn’t have controlled me or wiped my memory.”

“No,” Thomas agreed.

“So who did and why?” she asked. They were both silent for a minute, and then Inez said, “You don’t suppose someone was trying to keep me from discovering that the mugger had the phone, and not Marguerite.”

Thomas was so startled by the suggestion, that he dropped his fork. “Someone here in Amsterdam?”

Inez nodded.

He frowned at the idea and then said slowly, “But that would suggest that—I mean it was all just bad luck that the phone was here. Happenstance. The mortal mugged Marguerite and we followed the phone here.”

“And so long as we’re chasing the phone here in Amsterdam, we were on the wrong track,” she pointed out.

“Yes,” Thomas agreed, his own frown returning. “But if that’s why you were controlled and your memory wiped…”

“Then someone doesn’t want us to find your aunt,” Inez finished quietly.

Eleven

“Here we are.” The bellhop pushed the door open and held it with one extended arm for Inez and Thomas to precede him.

Despite the sudden nerves claiming her, Inez smiled at the man and led the way inside. She set her purse on the end table beside the sofa and moved restlessly to the row of windows, tugging the curtain open, and then peered blindly out over the twinkling lights of London at night. Her attention, however, was on the sounds behind her as the bellhop wheeled her suitcase with Thomas’s knapsack on top into the room. She heard Thomas thank the man and guessed by the bellhop’s cheerful response that he’d probably tipped him well for escorting them up, and then she heard the door close.

Inez didn’t turn around, but stood stiffly where she was, feeling like a virgin on her wedding night. They were back at the Dorchester.

Thomas and Inez had been relaxing in Schiphol airport, waiting to board their flight out of Amsterdam, when Bastien had called with the news that he’d not only traced Notte’s credit cards, but had called Christian Notte’s apartment, and when he’d received an answering machine, had then tried the Notte Construction offices. It was the business where the immortal worked in Italy, fortunately, a family-run organization despite it being a multinational company. His aunt Vita had answered the phone and Bastien had learned from her that Christian was in England as was his father, though she wasn’t sure exactly where the two men were. She also had no idea when they planned to return and hadn’t sounded pleased about it.

Bastien had then arranged to have both men’s credit cards tracked in England. He’d found a charge for two suites at the Claridge’s hotel here in London the night after Marguerite had checked out of the Dorchester. He’d also found a charge for five train tickets to York, where several charges had subsequently been made, the last of them occurring just the day before.

Bastien had immediately called the hotel, hoping to verify that Marguerite had been one of the guests in the suites, but all he’d learned was that Mr. Notte had requested three of the bedrooms in the suites have twin beds.

Deciding she had to have been there, he’d then tried to arrange train tickets for Thomas and Inez to York, but their flight from Amsterdam arrived too late for them to catch a train. He’d apparently checked into flights, but that wasn’t possible either, so he’d booked them into the Dorchester Hotel for the night, reserving them a two-bedroom suite. They were to take a train to the walled city early the next evening.

Thomas had passed on all of this information in solemn tones, but then his eyes had flared silver as he pointed out that it meant they had a free night to themselves.

Inez had been a nervous wreck ever since; contemplating what was to come with an anxiety that had grown with each passing moment as they waited to be called to board their flight, on the flight, and during the taxi ride to the hotel.

Now the time was nigh, Inez thought with more than a touch of panic. Really, the anticipation was horrible. She hadn’t been sitting on the flight remembering what his kisses had been like and imagining what the rest would be like; Inez had spent the entire flight wishing she’d known this was coming a couple months ago so she could have chosen not to skip so many trips to the gym in favor of work. She also would have bypassed some of the muffins she’d had for breakfast, and…

The ands were endless; a manicure, pedicure, facial, body wax, body wrap…Anything that might make her look better while naked ran through her head as something she should have and would have done.

Once Inez had finished shredding any confidence she’d previously had in her body, she’d turned to her sexual technique, or lack there of. She was no virgin, but she really had neglected her social life in order to concentrate on her career, and while that had got her promoted to vice president, it had basically left her social life, or more specifically her love life, in the toilet. It had been a long time since she’d even dated anyone, let alone slept with them…A very long time. It wouldn’t have hurt to pick up a book that could give her a quick refresher course.

Inez knew it was a ridiculous idea even as she had it. It wasn’t like she’d forgotten what went where and so on, but perhaps there were new skills or techniques she’d never heard of. A secret spot, for instance that you could press on to make the man blind so he wouldn’t notice your imperfect body.

She was grimacing at the likelihood of there being such a spot when something brushed her shoulders. Startled, Inez squealed, jumped, and whirled around, eyes wide as she saw Thomas standing there, hands raised, obviously to place them on her shoulders, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline at her reaction to his gentle touch.

They both stood still for a moment, and then Thomas cleared his throat and said, “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m fine,” Inez said at once, wincing as her voice came out a high-pitched squeak that would have done Minnie Mouse proud.

“Hmm.” Thomas eyed her thoughtfully, and then said, “Well, I was going to suggest we order room service. Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” she gasped, grabbing at the suggestion. Anything to delay what was coming.

“Right,” he said slowly, still appearing thoughtful. “Well, why don’t you look at the menu and see what you want?”

Nodding, Inez moved swiftly across the room to grab up the menu. Thomas took her place at the window, peering silently out as she made her selection. It wasn’t quick. Her decision was, but then she spent a good, long time perusing everything on the room service menu at least three times in an effort to delay things. By the time Inez closed the menu, she figured she’d gained herself a good ten minutes with her dallying. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Inez jumped nervously, but managed not to squeal like an idiot this time.

Thomas was good enough to ignore her reaction. His voice was light as he asked, “Decided?”

Forcing a smile, Inez turned to face him, managing to take a step back as she did, and nodded. She held the book out between them and asked, “Do you need the menu?”

Thomas didn’t say anything, but she could have sworn his lips twitched with amusement as he took the book.

“Thank you,” he murmured and then glanced at her and suggested, “You seem a little tense. Why don’t you pick your room and take a nice relaxing bath. I’ll wait to place our orders so you can have a nice long soak.”

“Oh, yes. That’s a good idea,” Inez breathed with relief at the offer. It was yet another delay as well as a chance to shave her legs again and do various other little tasks that might boost her confidence. She could have kissed the man. Instead, she caught the handle of the rolling suitcase they’d bought in Amsterdam and promptly headed out of the room.

“Inez.”

She froze in the door and glanced back warily. “Yes?”

“You have to tell me what you want so I can order it,” he pointed out gently.

“Oh.” She gave a nervous laugh, babbled what she wanted in a rush and hurried out of the room before he could stop her again.

Inez rushed into the first room she came to, hefted her suitcase onto the luggage rack, unzipped it, and began pulling out items willy-nilly in search of what she would need for her bath. The room looked like a tornado had hit it by the time she was done, but Inez didn’t care. She was stressed and didn’t think she’d ever been this stressed before in her life.

She shook her head at herself as she hurried into the bathroom and dropped everything on the counter. She’d handled mergers, hostile takeover attempts, and various other business emergencies with easy aplomb, Inez thought with self-disgust as she squeezed bubble bath into the tub and turned on the taps. And it wasn’t like this was her first time. She’d had sex before and never been this distressed by it all, not even her very first time. But then it hadn’t ever really mattered before. She hadn’t cared for anyone else like she cared for Thomas.

“What?” Inez gasped the word as she met her reflection’s gaze in the mirror. But even as she asked the question, she knew it was true.

Inez had dated lots of men while at university, and then when she’d first started to work, but they’d all seemed terribly immature or even boring to her so that she’d begun to avoid dates and the whole social scene. Work had been more interesting. In effect, she’d had a love affair with her career for the last decade and hadn’t met a man who could compete.

Until now.

Thomas could definitely compete. And while she’d at first thought the most attractive part of being his lifemate was the complete lack of effort needed on her part, leaving her free to continue her affair with work, her feelings were changing on the matter. Work had never made her feel the exhilaration and excitement that Thomas could with a look or a light touch, let alone the passion she experienced with his kisses. Work had never made her laugh and feel as lighthearted as she had today as they’d toured Amsterdam. And work had never made her feel beautiful and sexy as Thomas had made her feel at the Kattenkabinet when he’d said all those lovely things to her.

Thomas could, and was, competing with work and winning hands down.

“I’m in trouble,” she murmured to her reflection, because it certainly felt like trouble to her. Thomas was the first person who had touched the calculator that past boyfriends had claimed was her heart…and he could quite easily smash it. While he had talked about her being his lifemate, he’d never once mentioned love, and Inez feared she was heading down that dark, frightening path. It put a whole new light on everything. Before, she’d just had to decide if she could handle living centuries, now she had to decide if she could live centuries with a man she would no doubt come to love with every fiber of her being, but who might not ever love her in return.

Panic giving way to a solemn mood, Inez turned off the taps, stripped, and slipped into the tub to consider the problem.

“Inez?” The soft question, accompanied by a light tap at the door brought her eyes open and had her sitting up abruptly in the water, and then quickly dropping back down until the few bubbles still remaining covered her to the shoulders.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Thomas said, peering at her through the door he’d eased half open. “I was afraid you’d fallen asleep.”

“No,” Inez said quickly, forcing a smile. “How long have I been in here?”

“Well over an hour,” he answered. “The food has arrived.”

“I’ll get out now,” Inez said and started to sit up, but came to an abrupt halt as she recalled she was naked.

Thomas smiled faintly and grabbed a towel from the rack. Holding it open, he stepped to the side of the tub. When Inez eyed the towel and hesitated, he said quietly. “Shy? You weren’t this morning.”

Her eyes flickered to his face at the way his voice had suddenly lowered and she saw that his eyes had that silver glow. Swallowing, Inez hesitated another moment, then stood, knowing her cheeks were blushing furiously even as she did. Much to her relief, he immediately moved the towel forward and she lifted her arms to keep them out of the way as he wrapped it around her. Inez’s eyes widened in surprise, however, when he didn’t then release her and step away, but lifted her out of the tub like a child. That child image died an abrupt death when he kept lifting her, bringing her up until their lips met.

Surprised, she clutched at his arms with every intention of putting some space between them. Inez hadn’t been sleeping, she’d been thinking, and what she’d come up with was it was better if she kept her distance from the man and refused to agree to be his lifemate until she knew if he could come to love her. That grand plan flew out the window, however, when his tongue slipped between her lips, coaxing a response from her.

A little moan of defeat slipping from her lips, Inez gave up her hold on his arms and slipped her hands around his neck, blinking in surprise when she felt that his hair was damp. Obviously, he’d taken a bath too or perhaps a shower. She didn’t know which, but in the next moment didn’t care. He’d turned with her and set her on the edge of the marble counter and the moment he took his hands away, the towel dropped to pool on the counter around her hips, caught beneath her, but no longer covering anything.

Inez shuddered as Thomas took advantage of the lack and urged her legs open so that he could step between them as he kissed her. His hands slid over her naked back, pressing her closer until her breasts rubbed against the soft cloth of his shirt as he kissed, and she moaned, scraping the nails of one hand through his hair, while the other clutched at his shoulder, urging him closer still.

She felt one hand leave her back and slide around to her side, feathering lightly across the side of one breast. She shuddered and kissed him more eagerly, her upper body suddenly taking on a mind of its own and twisting slightly, pressing one breast tighter against his chest while making space between his body and her other breast.

Thomas accepted the silent invitation, his hand closing warm over the eager orb and Inez moaned and arched into the caress, and then cried out into his mouth as he plucked at the excited nipple. She groaned in protest, however, when he tore his mouth away from hers, but then gasped and arched even more as his head dropped so that his lips could fasten on the nub he’d been teasing.

Catching both hands in his still-damp hair, she held on tightly and shivered as he alternately laved and suckled at first one breast and then the other, gasping little half-phrases of encouragement and need in Portuguese. However, her ability to speak deteriorated even as the excitement he was stirring in her built and Inez was soon merely moaning and then tugging firmly at his hair, demanding he return to kissing her.

Thomas chuckled at the silent command and raised his head to kiss her again, pressing forward as he did so that his chest and groin brushed against hers as his arms enveloped her. Inez groaned into his mouth at the assault to her senses and reached between them to catch the hem of his T-shirt and begin tugging it up.

Thomas broke their kiss and leaned back, his arms rising accommodatingly so that she could remove the item, but when he started forward again to kiss her after that, she didn’t let him. Her hands were now on his chest, holding him back as she explored the muscular surface. His muscles weren’t unattractively bulky, but sleek and well defined and his shoulders and chest were wide, a veritable playground for her to explore. Inez ran her hands over all that male flesh with awe, and then leaned forward to press kisses to the firm surface, before stopping to lick and nip at one flat nipple.

Thomas sucked in a breath and immediately caught her head between both hands to force her face up. His mouth then covered hers in a kiss that was hungry and carnal. Inez smiled against his mouth. Emboldened by this small success, she trailed her fingers lightly down his chest until they reached the top of his jeans. She worked blind at his belt buckle, then at the button and zipper and then quickly pushed the heavy material down over his hips until the upper half of his behind was bare. Her hands stopped then for a brief foray over the taut flesh, before slipping back around to the front to find him hard and free of the encumbering jeans.

A sigh of satisfaction slipped from her mouth to his as Inez closed her hand around his arousal, and then she stiffened in surprise as a wave of keen excitement coursed through her. Thomas growled into her mouth and reached down to catch her hand and try to drag it away, but all he managed to do was draw it the length of his shaft and Inez cried out with startled pleasure as another wave of pleasure, this one larger and heavier, poured over her. Her eyes blinked open as she realized that her own cry had echoed a growl from Thomas.

Inez tried to break their kiss to ask what was happening, but Thomas wouldn’t let her. He also wouldn’t let her touch him again. He forced her hand away from him and brought it up over her head, catching and raising her other hand at the same time. He then switched his hold so that he had both wrists caught in the fingers of one hand against the mirror.

Realizing how he’d trapped her, Inez tried to protest, but it was hard to do with his tongue in her mouth, and then his free hand closed over one breast and she arched and shuddered and forgot all about it as he drove her wild with both his kisses and caresses.

Just when Inez thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, Thomas suddenly released his hold on her hands. Gasping with relief, she reached to wrap them around his shoulders, but he wasn’t there to hold. He’d broken the kiss to travel her body with his mouth, his lips brushing over her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and continuing downward as his hands caught her by the hips and pulled her bottom to the edge of the counter.

Gasping breathlessly, Inez dropped her hands to the counter and braced herself to keep from falling back against the mirror, hardly hearing the skitter of the cosmetics she sent skipping across the marble. Her attention was focused entirely on what Thomas was doing as his lips burned a trail over her stomach. When the path continued down over her hip, Inez shook her head and tried to close her legs, but he held them open with his hands, and even urged them farther open to accommodate his shoulders as he dropped to his knees before her.

Inez knew where he was going and what he planned to do, but still cried out and jerked in surprise as his head bowed between her legs. She may have known what was coming, but nothing could have prepared her for the shocking jolt of pleasure that shot through her at the first rasp of his tongue over her sensitive flesh.

That cry was one that seemed to have no end. It became an ululating sound that rose and fell and dropped into breathless gasps, but then rose again as Inez struggled on the counter, her hips and pelvis fighting to rise into the caress or alternately to shrink away when the sensations became too intense. She was allowed to do neither. Thomas held her in place, his grip firm on her thighs as he drove her toward the edge of sanity. When he suddenly stopped and lunged to his feet between her legs, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He didn’t say a word, simply slid his hand under her bottom and scooped her off the counter.

“What—?” Inez gasped with confusion, quickly wrapping her legs around his hips and catching one ankle over the other to help hold her weight as he turned toward the door.

“We can’t do it here,” Thomas growled. “You might hit your head on the marble or the mirror.”

Inez hadn’t a clue what he was talking about, she’d been in no danger of coming to harm that she could tell, but then he took a step to carry her out of the room and froze as the movement made her slide against his erection where it was caught between them. She saw his face tighten, though it looked more like alarm on his face than excitement, then his mouth firmed with determination and he took another step only to pause again as they both groaned.

Shaking his head grimly, Thomas took one more step and this time she felt his shoulders ripple in reaction to the pleasure that shot through them both.

A growl of what sounded like despair and frustration slid from his lips and Thomas suddenly turned. The three steps had taken him to the doorway, his turning placed her back to the doorjamb.

“I’m sorry, this is as far as I can get us,” Thomas growled as he lifted her slightly against his chest until his erection sprang free from between them.

Thinking he meant because she was too heavy, Inez felt her face flush with embarrassment and opened her mouth to tell him to put her down if she was too heavy, that she could walk, but the words died on a gasp as he eased her back down and his erection pushed into her.

Inez met his gaze. His eyes were almost silver white now, there wasn’t a drop of blue left in them and she suspected her own were probably black, the pupils dilated to erase the color. She knew they’d gone wide with shock at what she’d just experienced. When she’d touched him earlier, she’d experienced a shock of pleasure herself, as if he’d somehow sent his pleasure out to her, but that had stopped when he’d forced her hands away. However, Inez had just experienced it again, a wave of pleasure riding on top of her own pleasure, somehow joining and doubling it.

“I was trying to guard you from it. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but I can’t concentrate enough to keep my guards up anymore,” Thomas said through gritted teeth.

Inez stared at him blankly, not really understanding what he was talking about, but suspecting she was experiencing his pleasure on top of her own.

“Will you be all right?” he asked with concern.

Inez just stared at him for a moment and then whispered, “Do it again.”

Thomas peered at her uncertainly, but then pulled out slightly and drove back in and Inez cried out and tipped her head back as another wave of their combined pleasure rolled over her.

“Again,” she cried, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas let his breath out on a sigh that sounded relieved and began to move. Inez soon realized that he’d still been holding back somewhat even when he’d claimed that he couldn’t concentrate enough to do so. Suddenly it wasn’t just one wave of pleasure with each move, but that wave rolled forward to thunder through her, receded and then poured over her again even as the next wave arrived to crash over her as well.

Inez soon felt she was going to drown in the pleasure swamping her. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t feel the doorjamb pressing into her spine, couldn’t hear the sounds she knew she was making, and couldn’t even think. All she could experience was their mounting pleasure as Thomas drove into her, and then suddenly something snapped and the pleasure exploded, blowing out every thought and feeling. Inez screamed, vaguely aware that Thomas was shouting out too and then her awareness was suddenly sucked away, caught in a fiery backdraft.

It was a constant and repetitive tapping on his cheek that woke Thomas. Frowning at the irritating sensation, he blinked his eyes open, the frown fading at once as he found himself peering up into Inez’s worried face.

“You’re alive,” she said with relief, stopping her tapping the moment he opened his eyes. “For a minute I was afraid I’d killed you.”

Thomas chuckled, sending her bouncing about where she leaned on his vibrating chest and then he assured her, “I would have died happy.”

A small smile curved her lips, but then she arched an eyebrow. “Would you mind explaining what exactly just happened?”

Thomas felt his eyebrows fly up. “Well, the choo-choo went into the tunnel and—” He stopped and laughed as she smacked his chest with exasperation.

“Smart-ass,” she accused, her lips twisting, then looked more serious and said, “I mean the brain thing. What was that?”

“That, my dear,” Thomas said, catching her by the upper arms and tugging her to lie fully on top of him, “was immortal sex.”

“Yes, but—Stop looking so bloody satisfied,” Inez ordered on a laugh.

“I can’t help it. I am satisfied.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and lifted his hands to slip them into her hair.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he ran his hands over her head, and then down her back, moving lower with every sweep.

“Checking for wounds. You didn’t hurt yourself when we fell did you?”

“I don’t think so,” she said with a frown. “Nothing hurts.”

“Good,” he murmured, his hands slowing as he reached her behind. He couldn’t resist cupping and squeezing the round cheeks. They fit perfectly in his hand and felt so soft and smooth…Little Thomas approved wholeheartedly of the foray and began to lift his head beneath her, making Inez’s eyes widen.

“Thomas,” Inez said in warning tones. “Don’t even think about it. I want answers. What just happened? I could feel—Well, I think I might have been feeling what you were feeling. And I’ve never fainted in my life, but just now…” She made a face, showing her disgust for what she considered her weakness.

“I did too,” he assured her, continuing on with his search.

“Hey!” Inez stiffened on top of him as his fingers slid between her legs.

“I have to be thorough in my examination,” he said innocently, smiling as her eyes darkened and her breathing hitched and then settled into a fast, shallow pace.

“Thomas,” she begged, squirming a little on top of him and making Little Thomas grow harder. Shaking her head, she tried to shift off of him, but couldn’t, his wrists and lower arms were bands across the backs of her upper thighs. Giving up, Inez gasped, “Please. I want to understand what just happened.”

Thomas stopped tormenting her and shifted his hands to her waist as he explained, “That is what it’s like between lifemates. While they can’t read each other or control each other’s minds, they can share what they’re experiencing while having sex and can eventually share thoughts and feelings without speaking.”

Her eyebrows rose at this news, but then she frowned and said, “You said you were guarding me from it at first. What did you mean?”

Thomas hesitated, and then suddenly tightened his hold on her waist and rolled so that she was beneath him, his hips nestled between her legs. Leaning his weight on his elbows to keep the worst of it off of her, he concentrated on keeping up the walls in his mind and ground himself against her. Thomas clenched his hands as pleasure shot through him and Little Thomas grew a little harder even as Inez gasped and shuddered beneath him. He then let the walls drop and did it again, closing his eyes as both her pleasure and his own charged through him, filling every corner of his mind and body.

“Oh, Deus,” Inez moaned.

Thomas opened his eyes as the last of it passed and said, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

A breathy laugh burst from her lips, and she informed him dryly, “I said, Oh God.”

Thomas grinned. “No. I’m not God, but I can understand how you’d mistake me for Him after the mind-blowing sex I just gave you.”

Inez snorted.

Expression growing more serious, Thomas peered down at her and said solemnly, “I’ve never had a lifemate before. I’ve heard about the sex, though, and how overwhelming it can be. I was afraid it might scare you, so I tried to keep my guard up as long as possible. And then I realized how foolish I’d been starting it in the bathroom like that. I was afraid one or both of us would be hurt when we fainted so tried to move it to the bed, a nice soft, safe surface to faint on.”

“But I was too heavy for you to carry me that far,” she said with an unhappy nod.

Thomas stared at her incredulously. “What?”

“Well, that’s what you meant when you said it was as far as you could get us…isn’t it?” she asked uncertainly.

“Inez,” he said patiently. “You saw me lift up that blond guy one-handed in Amsterdam. He had a good eighty pounds on you. You aren’t too heavy for me. You aren’t heavy at all.”

“Oh…right,” she murmured, obviously recalling the incident, but then she frowned and asked, “Then what did you mean by ‘it was as far as you could get?’”

“I meant that I couldn’t wait any longer,” Thomas said dryly. “I was all out of self-control. I couldn’t walk one more step with you rubbing against Little Thomas and driving him crazy. I—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she interrupted with a laugh and then arched an eyebrow and said, “Little Thomas?”

“Hmm.” He shifted, nudging Little Thomas against her. “He says hello, and wants you to know he’s very enamored of you.”

“He is, is he?” Inez asked with amusement and then said softly, “Well, I find him very interesting too, almost as interesting as Big Thomas.”

“Do you?” he asked with a grin, and then said, “Well, that’s a shame, because the smells coming from the food cart in the living room are driving me crazy.”

“You can smell it from here?” Inez asked with surprise.

Thomas nodded. “Yes. And I fancy eating in the traditional immortal fashion.”

“What is the—” Her question was interrupted by a gasp of surprise as Thomas launched himself to his feet, pulling her up with him. Once upright, she finished—“traditional immortal fashion?”

“Oh, that,” Thomas said lightly, retrieving both of the fluffy white hotel robes supplied with the room. He slid into his own as he walked back to her, then helped her into hers before scooping her up in his arms and heading for the door.

“Thomas?” Inez prompted as he carried her into the living room where the food cart with their meals waited. “What is the traditional immortal fashion?”

“Eating it off your naked body,” he answered.

“It is not!” she protested with disbelief, and then asked uncertainly, “Is it?”

“No,” Thomas admitted with a grin. “But we can always start a new tradition.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and leered.

Inez laughed and said, “I love—”

Thomas felt his heart stutter as she suddenly hesitated. A full minute passed before she finished in more solemn tones.

“Being with you.”

That’s a start, Thomas told himself, and hoped his disappointment wasn’t showing. For one moment he’d hoped…But it was early days yet, everything would work out. She was his lifemate, after all, he reassured himself, and tried not to think about the fact that he’d known times when it hadn’t worked out. When the mortal lifemate refused to be turned and become immortal as well.

Twelve

“This is it.”

“A terraced house?” Inez asked with surprise as Thomas urged her up a short walk to one of many such houses on a residential street in York. Her gaze slid over the stone façade and she wondered if it looked less grim in daylight. They’d caught the seven P.M. train from London, arriving in York just after nine.

“Terraced house?” Thomas asked with surprise as he looked it over. “We call them townhouses in Canada.”

“But why a whole townhouse for just the two of us?” Inez asked.

“Bastien said all the hotels inside the walls of the city center were booked,” Thomas said with a shrug as he removed the arm around her shoulders to take the paper out of his right hand and leave it free to knock on the door. “He thinks Aunt Marguerite, Tiny, and the Nottes will be staying inside the walls and wanted us to as well. He figures they probably had to rent a townhouse too on such short notice. That would explain why there’s no hotel charge on the credit cards. Some of these places aren’t set up to accept credit cards. They might have paid by check.”

“Are we paying by check?” Inez asked, glancing curiously around the quiet street and wondering if one of the other townhouses on the street held Marguerite Argeneau.

“No. Bastien wired the money into the owner’s account this morning.”

“Oh.” Inez smiled faintly as she watched Thomas knock again, wanting to brush aside the bit of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead, but not comfortable enough to do so.

She supposed that was ridiculous after the night they’d spent together. They hadn’t gone to sleep until dawn, but had spent the night starting their meal, interrupting it to make love because Thomas insisted on eating portions of his off of her, and then making love again and so on. This had been interspersed with quiet moments of conversation, and Inez had learned that while Thomas had a light and carefree outer shell, there was a very serious and deep thinker under it all.

Her thoughts were disturbed by the sound of a door opening and Inez glanced to the entrance of the adjoining townhouse as it opened and a gentleman leaned out to peer at them. He was old with grizzled hair sticking out from his head, gray stubble shadowing his wrinkled face, and half his white shirt untucked from dark trousers. He also clutched a steaming teacup in one hand.

“Tom?” the man asked, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Thomas Argeneau, yes,” Thomas said, turning now to peer at the man as well.

Nodding the fellow turned back into the townhouse and slammed the door.

When Thomas turned surprised eyes her way, Inez shrugged and murmured, “Northerners.”

“Oh,” he said blankly and she chuckled softly.

“Southerners say that whenever someone from the north does something inconceivable or odd,” she explained with a grin. “I haven’t figured out what it’s supposed to mean yet, but give me another eight years here and I’m sure I will.”

Thomas smiled faintly and then glanced to the adjoining townhouse again as they heard the door open once more. Both of them watched as the man hurried out, rushing from the step in his stocking feet, clutching a piece of paper in his hand…and a key, Inez saw, as the man opened his hand to offer both to Thomas.

“There’s the key, son. My number’s on the paper if you need aught. Show yourselves in and enjoy. I’m missing my Baywatch.” On that note, he whirled away and rushed back inside his townhouse, slamming the door closed again. This time the sound of a lock clicking into place followed.

Thomas turned disbelieving eyes to her. “Baywatch?”

“We get reruns of all your best shows,” she said dryly.

Thomas shook his head as he turned to unlock the door. “I am Canadian. We’re not responsible for Baywatch. You can not blame that on us.”

“Just the Pamela Anderson part,” Inez suggested with amusement.

“Only partially, I’m sure her implants are American,” Thomas assured her as he opened the door and stepped back for her to enter.

Inez grinned and shook her head as she passed into the townhouse, flipping the switch to turn the lights on as she went. “I suppose we shouldn’t make fun. Baywatch is probably the only excitement the old guy gets on a night.”

“Old?” Thomas echoed with a wry laugh as he set her suitcase inside the door and followed her in. “He’s a baby compared to me.”

She must have had a stunned expression on her face because he frowned. “You knew that Inez. I told you I was born in 1794.”

“Yes,” she breathed and nodded her head. “I guess I just—It’s so easy to forget. You don’t seem old.”

“Because I don’t look old,” Thomas said with a shrug and moved forward to rub his hands up and down her arms. “Are you all right? You aren’t regretting—?”

“No,” Inez interrupted quickly and gave her head a shake, not even really sure herself why the realization that he was older than the man next door had startled her so. She supposed 1794 had just been a number to her until now. Forcing herself to relax, she managed a stiff smile and teased, “I’m sure I’ll adjust to dating an old fart.”

“Oh!” Thomas groaned and clutched his chest. “That one went straight to the heart. You’re a cruel woman, Inez Urso.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, her smile becoming more natural.

“I won’t,” he assured her.

“And I have a temper too,” Inez announced, turning away to peer into the living room beside them. It was a very neutral room; carpeted and painted in beige, the furniture all gray, and not a lick of decoration in it unless you counted a television as a work of art.

“A fine temper,” Thomas agreed, glancing over her shoulder into the room. His hand curved over her bottom and he added, “And a fine behind too.”

Inez slapped his hand away with a chuckle. “Behave, we have work to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said agreeably, following as she walked up the hall to the kitchen. They both stood in the kitchen doorway, peering over the cream and brown room with a distinct lack of excitement.

“It looks clean,” Inez said, trying not to be too critical.

“Yes, it does,” Thomas agreed with amusement, turning his back to the hall wall so that she could precede him back up the hall and to the staircase. She understood why he wanted her to lead the way when she felt his fingers brushing down the backs of her ankles, tickling the spot he knew was sensitive as he followed her upstairs. Pausing, she turned a scowl over her shoulder. “I’m mortal. You really don’t want me falling down these stairs and breaking my neck.”

“I’d catch you,” he assured her solemnly. “I’ll always be there to catch you, Inez.”

Swallowing, Inez turned forward again and continued upstairs.

There were two small bedrooms on this floor; one with twin beds and one with a double bed. There was also a rather large bathroom. Inez suspected the bathroom had been another bedroom before indoor plumbing became popular.

After testing the mattresses, she and Thomas settled on the room with the twin beds and retrieved their luggage to stow it there, then went down to check the kitchen for tea. Bastien had promised to have groceries delivered and apparently the old man had let the delivery guy in and put everything away. She supposed he’d forgotten to mention that in his eagerness to get to his Baywatch babes.

“Do you want tea in, or shall we go out and have a drink while everything is still open?” Thomas asked as they finished checking the cupboards.

“Let’s go out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and run into Marguerite while we’re out.”

Nodding, Thomas waited for her to grab her purse and ushered her out of the townhouse.

“I know you’ve never been to London before this trip,” Inez said quietly as they walked. “But have you ever been to York?”

“Actually, I have been to London before,” he informed her and then added, “But that was back in…” Thomas glanced skyward as he tried to remember. Finally he shrugged and said, “It was early eighteen something. I was in my twenties.”

Inez glanced at him curiously. “And you never returned?”

Thomas shook his head solemnly. “My uncle, Jean Claude, pitched such a fit I didn’t dare. He freaked if any of us even talked about going to England. He hated the place. I never figured out why,” he added with a frown, and then went on. “Marguerite was born here and it’s where they met. They spent a lot of time in England for the first couple of centuries. But…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened, just that some time before I was born he got a hate-on for the country, wouldn’t go near it himself, and tried to dissuade everyone else from going too.”

Eyebrows rising slightly at this news, she asked, “And he was so scary that no one disobeyed him? I mean, even for an immortal, twenty must be considered an adult. Surely, if you’d wanted to go…?”

“I wasn’t afraid of him, Inez,” Thomas said and then added, “At least, not for me. I no longer lived with him and Marguerite and could do what I wanted, but he’d take it out on her and Lissianna if I crossed him.”

Inez frowned as she digested this. She already knew that Lissianna was Marguerite’s daughter and Bastien’s only sister, but had never heard much about Jean Claude. He was dead by the time she started working for Argeneau Enterprises.

“Was he physically violent?” she asked quietly, wondering if Thomas had been an abused child growing up. If so, he’d come around well, but she supposed he’d had a lot of time to do so.

“No.” Thomas slid an arm around her waist and hugged her against his side. “Not physically. He was a drunk and mean as hell. The man could be vicious and could make everyone’s life miserable with little effort and absolutely no remorse.” Thomas sighed. “Marguerite and Lissianna were pretty much trapped at home with him. He wouldn’t let Lissianna move out until she found a lifemate, and he refused to allow Marguerite to work. And he wasn’t above using mind control to keep her there.”

“Mind control?” Inez asked with shock, coming to an abrupt halt. “You said lifemates couldn’t control each other.”

“Marguerite and Claude weren’t lifemates,” he said quietly. “He turned her, but he could read and control her from the start and used it like a weapon. Against all of us.”

“It must have made it hard for you growing up,” she said quietly as they started walking again.

“There are worse things,” Thomas said with a shrug and then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and asked, “But I’m more interested in you. What was your childhood like?”

Inez smiled faintly and shrugged. “No one’s life is perfect, is it?”

“Mine is. Right this minute my life is absolutely perfect,” he assured her, and then frowned and added, “Except for the fact that Marguerite is missing.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“So,” Thomas said after they’d walked half a block. “What was your childhood like? Were both parents there? Or was it a single parent home?”

“Both parents were there, and I had an older brother. He was a pain as most older brothers are; bossy, superior, protective,” Inez said, and then commented, “You have one sister, right?”

“Jeanne Louise,” Thomas said with a nod, and then added, “I love her a great deal, but Lissianna and I are closer. We were close in age and grew up together.”

Inez peered at him curiously. “How old is Jeanne Louise?”

“She’ll be one hundred next year.”

“Only one hundred?” she asked with surprise. “God, you were over a century old when she was born. No wonder you’re closer to Lissianna.”

Thomas smiled faintly. “Immortals are only allowed to have one child every hundred years.”

“You mean the woman only ovulates once every hundred years?” Inez asked with amazement.

“No.” He laughed at the idea. “It’s a law, not a biological thing.”

“Oh,” she said, but then asked, “Whose law?”

“We have a council that makes our laws and that is one of them.”

Inez was curious about that, but figured she could learn more about it later. Right now, she wanted to know more about his family. “If Jeanne Louise is only a hundred years old, then your parents are still alive?”

“My father is, but my mother died when I was four. That’s why Aunt Marguerite raised me. Father didn’t have a clue what to do with a toddler.”

Inez relaxed a little. She’d wondered why—if his parents were alive—he’d been raised by his aunt. “So Jeanne Louise is your half sister? Your father found a second lifemate after your mother died?”

“Well, no, actually he didn’t,” Thomas admitted with a wry smile and then said, “It’s kind of complicated. Basically, my father seems to be cursed when it comes to wives. They just kept dying on him…Not an easy thing when they were all immortals,” he pointed out and then went on quietly, “After Jeanne Louise’s mother died, he just sort of gave up. He’s a recluse now and doesn’t see anyone. Jeanne Louise doesn’t even know what he looks like.”

“How sad,” Inez murmured quietly.

Thomas shrugged. “He has to deal with it in his own way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose a lifemate. It’s something I don’t even want to contemplate,” he added, squeezing her a little tighter against his side.

Inez didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t promise he would never lose her, since she wasn’t sure he had her. She was growing more and more sure of her own feelings with every passing hour, but it just made her more certain that she couldn’t be his lifemate if he couldn’t love her back.

Deciding a change of topic was in order she said, “Tell me about your music.”

Thomas came to an abrupt halt, his head whipping her way. “How did you know about that?”

“Your binder was open when I brought the phone out to you the first morning,” she admitted solemnly. “You write music?”

Thomas blew his breath out and started to walk again. “Yes.”

She bit her lip at the reluctance behind the word and was debating whether to change the subject again when he began to speak. He told her about Marguerite teaching him to play, about Jean Claude’s jeering response to it, and his decision to keep his efforts to himself after that. And he had all these years. It seemed the man she was coming to love had a stubborn streak, at least about things that mattered to him. But that was all right, Inez decided. She could be a bit of a bull herself.

“How about this place?” Thomas asked suddenly, and Inez glanced around to see that while she’d been thinking they’d left the quiet residential area and entered the shopping section. The road around them was full of stores and restaurants, but the one Thomas was gesturing to was a small café on a corner. It was two floors, with glass windows running along both sides that looked out onto the street. Inez could see that it was a popular spot, even at this hour there were few empty tables.

“It looks promising,” she commented and they went in.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want and go find a table while I order?” Thomas asked as they reached the counter.

Nodding, Inez glanced over the menu on the boards on the wall behind the counter and said, “A latte and lemon muffin.”

“Not tea?” Thomas asked with surprise.

“I never have tea away from home. They never steep it long enough,” she informed him.

“Okay,” he said with a laugh, and then pressed a quick kiss to her lips and urged her away. “Go hunt us up a table. I’ll find you.”

Smiling, Inez headed for the stairs to the second level. There weren’t many tables on the main floor and the few there were taken. The second floor wasn’t much better. As she’d noted from the street, it was quite busy, but Inez managed to find an empty table by the window and settled there to watch the stairs for Thomas.

It wasn’t long before he appeared. His gaze swept the second level until he spotted her and then he headed straight over. Inez couldn’t help but notice the glances cast his way by the other women in the restaurant as he passed them. She had the most juvenile urge to stick out her tongue at them. He was hers and no matter how beautiful, smart, or accomplished they were, those other women could never be anything more than blow-up dolls, or pretty puppets to him. It was good to know, but didn’t keep her from wanting to pop the dolls with a pin, and cut the strings on the puppets.

“What is that expression about?” Thomas asked with amusement as he set the tray on the table.

“What expression?” Inez asked innocently.

“I’d have to describe it as gentle malice,” he informed her as he passed her a latte and her muffin.

“Malice?” she asked with surprise. “Never.”

“No?” Thomas asked mildly as he set his own drink and muffin in front of the chair opposite her, and then set the tray out of the way on the window sill beside them.

“No,” Inez assured him. “I was just noticing that the women all eye you like candy and that I’d have to hurt them if they were foolish enough to try something.”

Thomas had been in the process of taking his seat when she said that, but stilled, his eyes widening incredulously at her words.

“I assure you there was no malice in the thought at all,” she said with a shrug.

A burst of laughter slipped from his lips and Thomas finished settling in his seat, then shook one finger back and forth at her. “Naughty, naughty. And here I thought your eyes were brown, not green.”

“I’m not jealous,” Inez assured him solemnly as she began to doctor her latte, adding sugar to it.

“No?” Thomas asked doubtfully and said, “I am.”

Inez glanced at him with surprise. “What have you to be jealous of?”

“Of every guy who gives you the up and down look.”

Inez laughed as he showed her the look; squinting his eyes and running them up and down what he could see of her figure above the table. Shaking her head, she protested, “No one does that.”

“They do,” he assured her. “Mr. Ginger-hair behind the counter downstairs was doing it.”

“Well, I’ve never noticed it.”

“I know,” Thomas said with amusement. “And I think it’s adorable that you’re completely oblivious to how attractive you are. It makes me glad I’m not a mortal. I think a normal man would have to hit you over the head before you’d notice they were attracted to you.”

Inez shook her head. “Men preferred leggy blondes and sexy redheads. I’m just boring me.”

“Inez, love, there’s nothing boring about you,” he said dryly.

She stared at him silently, wishing he meant that. She wanted to be his love. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, Inez glanced down at her latte, took a sip, and then asked, “So how are we supposed to look for Marguerite here in York?”

Thomas blinked at the sudden change of topic, then allowed it and grimaced. “Well, we can’t trace her phone.”

“No,” she agreed on a sigh.

“Or her credit cards,” he added and then shook his head. “In truth, I haven’t got a clue where to start. We already know she isn’t in one of the hotels.”

“That leaves flats and rental houses,” Inez said.

Thomas nodded. “But nothing has shown up on the Notte credit cards.”

“They paid by cash or check, then,” she said thoughtfully.

“It looks that way. Unfortunately, we can’t go around knocking on every door in town.”

“No.” She frowned, and then asked, “What kinds of things does she like?”

“Music,” Thomas said at once, and then added, “and reading.”

“Music and reading,” Inez said thoughtfully. “Would she be likely to go to concerts?”

“She might, but she’s here to work.”

Inez blinked. “Right. I forgot about that. She’s looking for Christian Notte’s mother.”

Thomas nodded. “She and Tiny spent three weeks going through church and city archives searching for any mention of his birth.”

“His mother was married to his father then?”

Thomas opened his mouth and then closed it again and finally just shook his head as he admitted, “I don’t know. They might have just been looking for any mention of a child born named Christian. I doubt it was a popular name.”

Inez nodded agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“I know they were in London to meet with Christian in the hopes that he could help them narrow the search or give them a possible clue.”

Inez was silent for a moment, and then asked,

“Couldn’t the father just tell them who the mother is and where to find her?”

When Thomas stared at her blankly, she pointed out. “Well, obviously Julius was here in England. The hotel suites were on his credit card. He must know who the mother is, why did he not just tell him?”

Thomas shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe he did and they’re now just trying to find the woman.”

“Would it be that hard?” she asked curiously.

“Christian is over five hundred years old. Immortals change their names, move around…And few have social insurance numbers or other paperwork to trace them through, at least not under their own name.” He shrugged. “It can be harder than finding a mortal.”

“Okay, so Marguerite and Tiny traveled to London to meet with Christian in the hopes of getting more information, and his father, Julius, joined them there and presumably told them something that led them here to York,” she commented, and Thomas nodded. They were both silent for a minute and then Inez pursed her lips and said, “You know there’s something that’s been kind of preying on my mind.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Well, there were seven people in the party in London and then only five traveled on to York. What happened to the other two?”

“Seven people?” Thomas asked with confusion.

“Bastien said Julius requested two suites at Claridge’s, with two bedrooms in each, and that three of the rooms were to have twin beds,” she pointed out. “Three rooms with twin beds, that’s six. The last didn’t really matter so either it was another two who could share a bed, or it was only one.”

“You’re right,” Thomas said with surprise.

Inez nodded solemnly. “So who were all these people?”

“Well…” Thomas considered the matter. “Two would be Marguerite and Tiny. Christian Notte and his father were also apparently there.”

“And the other three?”

Thomas thought for a minute, and then said, “I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything about this Christian Notte?” Inez asked.

Thomas shrugged. “He’s related to someone who works for my cousin Vincent. He and some other family members flew to California when my cousin had trouble out there. They stayed at his place. My aunt did too; that’s how she ended up getting involved in his case.” He scowled and then shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea who the other three people in the party could be. Or why only five of them continued on here to York.”

Inez sat back in her seat and sighed. “It probably doesn’t matter anyway. It was just bugging me.”

They fell silent, both concentrating on their drinks and muffins, and then Inez glanced around.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, noting at once.

“I was just wondering where the ladies’ room is,” she admitted.

He glanced around the upper floor, and then said, “I don’t see one up here, but there’s one downstairs next to the stairs.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing her purse, Inez stood, and walked to the stairs. She descended them slowly, finding them a bit steep for her comfort. Relieved once she’d reached the ground floor, she glanced around for a sign for the ladies’ room.

“Can I help you, miss?”

Inez glanced toward the speaker with a start, her eyes widening as she found herself peering at a tallish man with ginger hair. He wore the same green apron as the girl behind the counter had worn. Mr. Ginger-hair really did exist, she realized with surprise.

“Miss?” the man asked with concern. “Are you all right?”

“I—Yes,” Inez said, suddenly flustered. “I was just looking for the ladies’ room.” They tended to be called toilets here in England, but even after eight years, Inez couldn’t bring herself to say that when looking for a restroom. She preferred the polite euphemism to the literal word.

“Oh, they’re right over here.” He led her to the right and Inez smiled and thanked him when she spotted the recessed sign reading “Toilets.” She went into the ladies’ room, finding herself in a small room with a booth in the corner and a sink to her left. With the number of patrons in the place, Inez wasn’t surprised to find she had to wait and was just glad there weren’t a couple of women already waiting before her.

Moving to the sink, Inez peered into the mirror and scowled at her hair. Knowing there was no use trying to tame the wild curls, she reached into her purse for her lipstick. She’d bitten or eaten off the lipstick she’d put on earlier and that, at least, was something she could repair.

As she ran the color over her lips, Inez found her mind returning to the matter of the hotel suites at Claridge’s, but knew it was a waste of time even as she pondered it. She didn’t know the people involved well enough to know who the other three people might have been. Obviously it was someone connected to Christian Notte; family members or friends maybe.

Inez had barely had that thought when the hand holding the lipstick stopped moving. What if the other three were Christian’s mother and her people? Her family or friends?

The thought had hardly crossed her mind before she gave a small shake of the head and finished with her lipstick. No. If Christian’s mother had been in the party then the case would have been over and Marguerite would have returned home.

Inez stilled as another thought struck her. Straightening, she peered blindly into the mirror as she considered that it might not have been his mother, but it could have been someone who could lead them to Christian’s mother. Marguerite might have found someone who was around at the time that he was born and who could lead them to the woman who gave him life. In which case, they may have come here, found his mother, and then…Then what?

If Julius was one of the ones who left the party when they left London, they might have felt it was necessary to meet back up with him after finding the woman to ensure they had the right one. In the normal course of events they could have just snapped a picture and sent it to him by cell phone or email to have him confirm or deny the woman’s identity, but this wasn’t a normal case. From the sounds of it, the father didn’t want Christian to find his mother. He might make things difficult. They might have to fly back to Italy or wherever he was and see his reaction to the woman to know if they had the right one. If so, they might not even be here in York anymore.

On the other hand, Inez admitted, they may have found the woman and still be here for some reason. Their being in Italy was a slim chance, especially since Bastien had called the day before and was told they were in England. Still, they could have flown home since then and a phone call only took a couple of moments. There was no harm in checking was there?

The door opened beside her, and Inez glanced toward it, hoping it wasn’t someone who would try to hop in line before her when the woman in the booth finally came out. She really had to go.

Fortunately, it was a man and he was obviously in the wrong bathroom. Inez offered a wryly sympathetic look as she waited for the tall, fair-haired man to realize his mistake, offer embarrassed apologies, and back out. But he wasn’t doing that. He was staring straight at her with grim determination and continuing into the room.

Thirteen

Having grown up in a house with two women, Thomas knew how long they could take in the bathroom, so he moved to a table holding a stack of magazines and newspapers, searching for something to read while he waited for Inez. He’d just settled on the local newspaper, when he saw her returning. Eyebrows rising at how quick she’d been, he dropped the newspaper and headed back to the table.

Her head was bowed and she was peering down into her cup when he sat down. When she continued to sit like that, he frowned with concern. “Is everything all right?”

Inez glanced up, a questioning smile curving her lips. “Yes, of course. Why?”

Thomas smiled in return, and shook his head. “I just wondered.”

She smiled and then took her last bite of muffin, and drank down the last of her latte. Thomas followed suit and then raised his eyebrows. “Ready to go?”

Inez nodded, collected her purse and stood. “Where to now?”

Thomas grimaced and admitted, “Well, the only thing I can think to do is keep walking around with an eye out to spotting Aunt Marguerite. York isn’t that big a city, at least its center isn’t large, and it doesn’t appear too busy at night. Maybe we’ll get lucky and spot her. In the meantime, we’ll try to think of places to look for her. We might check the book stores tomorrow evening. It’s too late tonight, but we’ll have to check the hours and see if they’re open later than five o’clock.”

“They might be,” Inez said as they walked to the stairs. “This is a high-tourist area, so they might stay open later to cater to tourists.”

“Well, if we come across the store, we can check their hours,” Thomas said as he followed her down the stairs. “But for tonight, we’ll just walk around and try to come up with ways to find her. I’d suggest checking anywhere they might have archives, but those definitely won’t be open at this hour. I suspect Tiny would have to do those kind of searches.”

“Which makes Marguerite rather de trop,” she said wryly.

“Yes,” Thomas agreed. “And she wouldn’t like that. I’m sure she’d have found some way to go with him, either going during daylight or finding a way to get in at night.”

Inez nodded as she stepped off the bottom step. She took two steps forward and then stopped and glanced around.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, stepping off the last step and moving to her side.

“I was just wondering where the ladies’ room is,” she answered with a grimace.

“You have to go again?” Thomas asked with surprise before he quite realized that if she had, she should know where they were.

“Again? I haven’t been since we left the hotel,” Inez said on a laugh. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be right back.”

Thomas stared after her with bewilderment, watching until she disappeared through the door labeled toilets. Turning away then, he moved to the counter and peered absently at the goodies in the glass display, but his mind was with Inez.

Again? I haven’t been since we left the hotel, she’d said, but she’d excused herself to find the ladies’ room earlier.

“Women.”

Thomas glanced up from the display to find himself peering at Mr. Ginger-hair who had taken such note of Inez earlier.

The fellow grinned and shrugged as he nodded toward the door to the bathrooms. “They’re forever in the bathroom, aren’t they?” he said wryly and then asked, “Did you want something to go?”

Thomas stared at the man, but rather than answer, he slipped into his mind. It was a quagmire of dissatisfaction with his job, his life and his love life, but Thomas eventually plucked out the memory of Inez coming below earlier and his showing her where the bathrooms were. He also picked up a couple of rather x-rated thoughts the guy had enjoyed at the time about following her in there and—

“I’m ready.”

Thomas quickly withdrew his mind and glanced to the side to find Inez there, smiling at him brightly.

“Shall we go?”

Thomas nodded and gestured for her to lead the way, taking the time to cast a scowl at Mr. Ginger-hair before following her. He waited until they were outside and walking again before saying, “Inez?”

“Yes?” She glanced at him quizzically.

He hesitated and then said, “Tell me what happened from the time we entered the coffee shop until we left, please.”

“Tell you what happened?” she echoed with surprise.

“Yes. I know it sounds an odd request, but it might be important.”

Inez stared at him with bewilderment for a minute and then apparently decided to humor him and shrugged. “Okay…well…we walked in, went up to the counter, you suggested I tell you what I wanted and leave you to order while I went to find a table. There were no free tables on the main floor, so I went upstairs, spotted two, picked one by the windows and sat down. You came up a minute later with our order. We drank, ate, and talked, and then came down to leave. I went to the ladies’ room, joined you at the counter, and we left.” She raised an eyebrow. “Now, tell me why I just said all that.”

Thomas glanced away to hide his troubled expression. He couldn’t read her mind to tell if she was lying, but there was no reason to. She had absolutely no recall of the first trip she’d made to find the ladies’ room. A trip that should have been successful because he knew the coffee shop guy had pointed it out to her and had seen in his memory that she’d gone through the door marked toilets, but apparently something—someone, he corrected himself grimly, an immortal, had stopped her from going to the bathroom because she’d still had to go on the way out.

Inez had been controlled again and her mind wiped.

“Thomas,” she said, grabbing his arm with a laugh. “Why did you want me to tell you that?”

Thomas opened his mouth to answer and then hesitated as he recalled how upset and vulnerable she’d appeared after realizing she’d been controlled in Amsterdam. He didn’t want to see her upset again. In fact, at that moment, he wanted to grab her up and rush her back to the townhouse and keep her safe from being controlled again.

Halting, he suddenly peered quickly around, taking note of the few people on the street. No one seemed to be paying them undo attention or following them, but he suspected someone was.

“Thomas?”

He glanced down to her again, noting that she was starting to look worried. Inez wasn’t a stupid woman. She would realize something was wrong. Forcing a smile, Thomas slid his arm around her shoulder and urged her to walk again as he lied, “I just like to hear the sound of your voice. You have an interesting accent; Portuguese with an overlay of British. It’s quite charming.”

Inez laughed and the relief in her voice made him glad he’d lied as she said, “I’m not the one with the accent. You are.”

“No. I have no accent at all,” he assured her, glancing—nonchalantly, he hoped—around the street again. Now that he was aware that someone must be following them, his back was creeping as if it could sense eyes on it, though he couldn’t really, he just knew they must be there. “You are the one with the accent.”

Inez just shook her head and said, “Maybe we both do. Now, we should really talk about Marguerite and try to sort out ways to find her.”

Thomas nodded solemnly, but his mind was on why she might have been controlled again. She hadn’t been controlled long enough on either occasion for anything untoward to have been done to her. She’d only been gone ten or fifteen minutes the first time and maybe a little more than five in the coffee shop.

Had she seen or heard something someone didn’t want her to? Perhaps she’d seen Marguerite, he thought and then suddenly recalled that this had been his first thought when he’d realized she’d been controlled in Amsterdam, but Marguerite hadn’t even been the one with the phone in the first place.

Frowning, Thomas recalled that Inez had suggested that perhaps someone hadn’t wanted her to realize that they were chasing the mugger with the phone, not Marguerite. Thomas reconsidered the idea now.

“You’ve gone suddenly silent and grim,” Inez murmured, bringing his attention away from his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Thomas hesitated, but finally admitted, “I was thinking about the first time you were controlled in Amsterdam.”

Inez stopped walking abruptly. “The first time?”

Thomas cursed himself for the slip of the tongue.

Light suddenly splashed over them and the street was filled with the sound of voices and laughter as a door opened behind them. Thomas glanced around to see they were standing outside a pub. It seemed fortuitous, he suddenly needed a drink and suspected Inez was going to need one too.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm to urge her toward the door, “we’ll have a drink and I’ll explain everything.”

“So you think someone controlled me again,” Inez murmured, peering down into the glass of ale she’d barely sipped at since the waitress had set it before her. The pub was a small, crowded affair with people sitting around tables, or standing around in groups talking. It was the real deal, a true English pub, not one of the ones opened for tourists.

Thomas had just finished telling her his version of their stop at the café. It was quite similar to her own except for the part about her getting up in the middle to go find the ladies’ room. She believed him, but had no recall of that whatsoever.

Thomas reached out and squeezed her hand comfortingly. “Yes.”

She nodded a slow acknowledgment. “Okay. Well, either I saw someone or something I shouldn’t have when I went to the ladies’ room, or…” Or what? she wondered helplessly.

“Back in Amsterdam, you suggested you were controlled and your memory wiped because someone didn’t want us to realize that the mugger had the phone, not Aunt Marguerite,” he reminded her. “I think you might be right about that now. So long as we thought Aunt Marguerite was in Amsterdam, we would have stayed there searching for her. But finding out the mugger had the phone and not her made us immediately head back to England. And it turns out she was here in York the whole time.”

“So you think I was right and whoever controlled me just now might have done so for a similar reason?”

He nodded.

Inez peered into her glass again, and then raised her eyes and said, “That would suggest that this last time I was controlled because I either saw or was about to see something that might lead us to Marguerite.”

Thomas nodded and sat back in his seat, irritation on his face as he said, “But this time we don’t have any idea what.”

“No,” she agreed and then added, “But it tells us we might be on the right track now.”

“Yes, it does,” he said with surprise and smiled at her.

“So, let’s try to put together what we do know,” Inez suggested and reached into her purse to pull out a notepad and pen. Setting the pad on the tabletop, she pushed the button to eject the pen nib and wrote at the top of the first page, “Things we know.”

She glanced up at Thomas. “We know she drove to London with Tiny and stayed at the Dorchester.”

Thomas sat forward as she wrote that down and added, “And we know Notte rented two suites of two rooms, requesting three have twin beds.”

Inez nodded as she wrote that down, commenting, “That has kind of bothered me since I heard it.”

“I know. You said,” Thomas murmured, sounding distracted.

Inez glanced up with surprise, but he was looking thoughtful, obviously considering what the next point should be. Shrugging to herself, she glanced down to the notepad, muttering, “I didn’t realize I’d mentioned it to you.”

“What?”

Inez raised her head again surprised to see the frozen look on his face, but told him, “I said I hadn’t thought I’d mentioned it to you.”

Thomas sat forward, leaning on the table as he said, “We talked about it in the café.”

Inez was silent, her mind now chasing the memory of such a conversation, but there was no memory to be found. In fact, she just had some vague recollection that they’d chatted amicably but couldn’t say what about. When she told him that now, Thomas sat back again, his expression thoughtful.

“Why would our conversation be removed from my memory?” she asked uncertainly.

“Maybe we were getting too close to figuring something out,” Thomas said slowly.

That seemed a good possibility, Inez supposed. “What did we say?”

“You said that even though there were only five tickets to York, the two suites of two rooms with the request that at least three of them have twin beds suggested there were seven people in London. We tried to figure out who they were, but don’t know enough and came up three short.”

“Who were the four we came up with?” Inez asked and then said, “Marguerite, Tiny, and Christian and his father?”

“Yes, but we couldn’t come up with anyone else and then you got up to go find the ladies’ room.”

“I was probably still thinking about it then.”

“Yes,” Thomas agreed and then said, “I think Bastien mentioned Christian having a couple of cousins with him in California. They might have been among the group.”

Inez reached for her drink to take a sip as she considered this, and grimaced as the flat, tepid beer filled her mouth.

“Bad huh?” Thomas asked with sympathy. “Mine has gone warm too.” He glanced around and then grimaced. “The waitress probably won’t return so long as our glasses are full. I’ll go up to the bar and get us a couple more drinks. Keep thinking about this and try to come up with what you might have thought of the first time. They can take away the memory of figuring it out, but not the reasoning skills that got you there and you have excellent reasoning skills,” he added encouragingly, then patted her hand and stood to move to the bar.

Inez smiled faintly as she watched him go. He always knew the right thing to say. And she enjoyed just looking at the man, she acknowledged, her eyes dropping over his tapered back to his derrière in the tight jeans.

A little sigh slid from her lips as she wished that they had time just to be together. She’d really rather be back at the hotel Dorchester making love with him than here trying to sort out what had been stolen from her memory.

Unfortunately, until they found Marguerite, they didn’t have the time for what she wanted, Inez reminded herself and set her thoughts on the matter of who the others in Marguerite’s party might have been. Bastien had said that there had been only five tickets to York, so the party had dropped in number. She doubted Marguerite and Tiny had left the group, they were the ones who were supposed to find the mother. Christian would have been one too, and probably his father, but since she had no idea who the others might have been, she had no idea who had left the party.

Inez considered the cousins Thomas had mentioned being in California with Christian and wondered if Bastien had thought to try to contact them. If it was one of those men who had dropped out of the group when it moved on to York, they might be able to lead them in the right direct—

Inez thoughts died abruptly as she suddenly found herself standing up and turning away from the table. She wasn’t doing either thing herself, it was simply happening, as if a puppet master were directing her movements.

That thought sent a wave of panic through her as she recalled Christian’s description of most mortal women being nothing better than blow up dolls or puppets to immortals. She was being controlled again, Inez realized, and wondered if the first two times it had happened she’d been aware and felt the panic now claiming her. And Inez was most definitely feeling panic. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, her mind racing with desperate ideas to end this. She tried to take back control and force her body to stop, but couldn’t even manage to slow her steps. Inez then tried screaming or even whispering, but her mouth was tight closed, not a sound coming from her throat.

Don’t panic, she ordered herself. It will be all right. So what if your mind is erased again? You haven’t been hurt by it before, she told herself, but the thoughts had a hollow ring to them. The previous two times she’d been controlled she’d been returned to Thomas, the first time back to the hotel in Amsterdam, and just an hour ago in the café she’d been sent back to their table—but now she was being led away from Thomas. Surely if they just wanted to erase her mind, they didn’t have to take her away to do it!

Inez had no idea, she didn’t know how it was done, but for some reason this time felt different. She didn’t think the intention was to just erase her memory and let her go again.

She was walking through the middle of the pub on a path to the door, weaving her way around groups and individuals and no one seemed to notice the least little problem. Surely her eyes showed her panic?

Inez tried to find Thomas with her eyes. He at least would realize something was wrong, he would see her fear, she thought, but couldn’t find him in the crowd. She couldn’t even see the bar for the people between her and it. Inez kept trying, though; right up until she reached the pub door and her hand rose to push it open. As she stepped out into the cool night breeze, Inez knew she was lost.

The area around the bar was thick with people waiting their turn. The man pulling the draft was being worked off his feet, but was cheerful despite all that. Thomas waited, trying to be patient. It was always difficult to wait when you knew that, ultimately, you didn’t have to. He could easily have taken control of the man and had him serve up their drinks in front of the others, and then could have stopped anyone who took issue with his being served before them, but he didn’t. At least, he didn’t until he saw the waitress who had served them on their arrival, slip behind the bar to collect drinks.

Pursing his lips, Thomas glanced at the long line still in front of him, and then slipped into the waitress’s mind, deposited his order there for her to bring to their table, and then headed back to Inez. Crowded as it was, Thomas was almost back at the table before he realized Inez was no longer there.

Surprise flickered through him, but was quickly followed by alarm when he saw that her purse was still at the table, sitting out in the open for anyone to take. In fact, someone was approaching now and reaching for it, he realized and narrowed his eyes on the woman.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Thomas growled as he reached the table.

The woman snatched her hand back, saying quickly, “I was just going to take it to the bar. I thought the girl forgot it when she left.”

Thomas didn’t bother to argue with the mortal woman. Lips twisting, he snatched up the purse and started to turn away, but then frowned as he realized what she’d said. Swiveling back, he stabbed her mind with his own, entering swiftly and found a vision of Inez walking stiffly out of the bar, her expression blank.

Cursing, Thomas whirled away and hurried for the door, Inez’s pursed tucked under his arm like a football. It never occurred to him that he might look like a mugger fleeing the scene of a crime until a man stepped in his path, snarling, “Give it ’ere ye lousy t’ief.”

Thomas nearly mowed the man down, but then quickly slipped into his mind and moved him aside instead. It was rare enough others troubled themselves to stop a criminal; and while the man had misunderstood the situation, he thought he was stepping up to help a lady in distress. Thomas thought he should be rewarded, not plowed down.

No one else got in his way, and Thomas crashed through the pub door and out onto the street without further hindrance.

A slight breeze had kicked up outside. It sent his hair ruffling as he glanced first one way and then the other. Thomas didn’t see Inez in either direction, and panic became a living beast in his chest, clawing at his heart. He couldn’t lose her now. He’d waited two hundred years for Inez, he simply couldn’t lose her.

Spotting a crossroad just a little ways up to his left, Thomas hurried toward it, thinking that surely that would have been where she’d been taken. He hadn’t been away from the table long, whoever was controlling her would have wanted to get her off this street in case Thomas came looking, and this was the nearest corner.

Pausing at the crossroads, he glanced left and right again, freezing when he spotted a bit of brilliant white in the distance. Despite his exceptional eyes, it took him a moment to realize that it was a figure in a brilliant white blouse and dark slacks being led off the sidewalk and down what must be steps by a dark figure all in black. Thomas couldn’t be sure from this distance, but by the size difference between his petite Inez and the figure with her, he’d guess her captor was a man.

God Bless her penchant for wearing white blouses, Thomas thought as he set out up the street at a dead run. If she’d been wearing black like himself and the man with her, he never would have spotted her before she disappeared from view.

Thomas crossed the distance quickly, uncaring that anyone might see the speed he traveled at and wonder. He slowed when he thought he was drawing close to where Inez had been led off the sidewalk, and soon spotted a set of stone steps just before the bridge that crossed the river. They led down to a lower level with a stone path that ran along the river.

Thomas stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down, spotting Inez and her captor at once. The dark figure was most definitely a man, tall, and wide and built like a warrior of old. An immortal that was older than he, Thomas surmised, but couldn’t care less. He wasn’t giving Inez up without a fight, not even if it killed him.

He was about to start down the step when he saw the man bring Inez to a halt. Thomas frowned as he watched him turn her so that she faced the water, placing her back to him, but when he then raised his hands placing one on her shoulder and one around her face, Thomas recognized that he was about to break her neck, then probably drop her in the river. He roared with fury and hurled Inez’s purse like a missile.

Thomas didn’t wait to see if the purse hit its target, but immediately charged down the stairs at a speed he didn’t think he’d ever reached before. Still, he did see the purse slam into the man’s head and send him stumbling a startled step to the side, dragging Inez with him. Regaining his balance, the man glanced up the path to where Thomas was just hurling himself off the last step and racing toward them. The immortal hesitated, and then shoved Inez off the edge and into the river even as he turned to race away.

Heart lurching in his chest, Thomas put on another burst of speed, raced to the edge of the path, and dove into the water after Inez. The River Ouse was cold, dark, and murky. It was impossible to see anything.

Silently cursing, Thomas waved his arms around, searching blindly for Inez. He was beginning to despair of finding her when the tips of his fingers brushed against something. Moving in that direction, he waved his arms again and this time caught something in the crook of his elbow. Grabbing at whatever it was with his other hand, he felt his fingers close around an arm and immediately pushed off the riverbed toward the surface, tugging her along with him.

The impetus of his push sent him whizzing through the water. Thomas was still moving at speed when he hit the surface and rose out of the water up to his waist, before receding back into it. He glanced toward Inez as he started to slide back into the water, realizing only then that he had her by the calf, not her arm as he’d first thought.

Kicking his feet to stay above water, Thomas quickly shifted her around, drawing her head out of the water as he caught her by the upper arms. Her head was tipped back and the moonlight glowed down on her face. Thomas’s jaw tightened as he noted the blue tinge to her skin. It was most noticeable around her lips.

Thomas drew her closer, pinched her nose and blew air into her mouth several times, then kicked toward shore, crossing half the distance before stopping again. He breathed into her again before continuing on to the embankment where he once again took a moment to breathe air into her.

Thomas managed to get them both out of the water, lifting Inez out first and then following. He crawled to her side and peered down at her face in the moonlight, frowning at her poor color. Swallowing back the fear tickling its way up his throat, he promptly set to work. Thomas tilted her head back and lifted her chin, then bent to listen for breathing. When he didn’t hear anything, he pinched her nose closed, breathed into her mouth twice, and then placed the heel of his hand on her breastbone, placed his other hand on the first and pressed straight down fast and hard thirty times in a row before stopping to breathe into her mouth again, watching her chest rise as he blew in, then fall as he stopped.

“Come on, Inez,” Thomas muttered as he switched back to compressions. “Don’t you die on me. Come on!”

He bent to breathe into her mouth, jerking away when she suddenly began to cough. Turning her swiftly on her side, Thomas made sure her head was tilted back so her throat wasn’t blocked and then simply rubbed her back as she continued to cough and began to spit up the water she’d swallowed.

When Inez finally fell back with a moan, Thomas reached down to brush away the damp hair plastered to her face and breathed out with relief.

Noting that her color was much better now, he took a moment to run his hands over her neck. Thomas was sure the other immortal hadn’t got the chance to do an injury to her, but he checked anyway, relieved when her neck seemed fine.

Sitting back on his heels, he glanced up and down the path, but there was no one around. The immortal was long gone, and while he could see a couple of people walking across the bridge at the end of the path, they were far enough away they didn’t even seem to notice he and Inez. Certainly no one appeared to have noticed them in the water and rushed to help.

Another moan from Inez drew his gaze back and Thomas leaned over her again. “Love?” he said quietly. “Are you awake?”

Inez’s eyes fluttered open. They were full of confusion and pain until she recognized him and then relief filled her expression and she whispered, “Thomas.”

“Yes, love. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Her fingers clutched weakly at his hand, her eyes solemn as she gasped, “Thought would die before could tell you—”

Thomas felt his heart tighten as she broke off into a deep, painful sounding coughing fit. Slipping his arm behind her back, he lifted her into a half-sitting position, and then rubbed her back, trying to help her through it.

“Have to tell you,” she gasped once it was over.

“Don’t talk, love. Just rest,” he insisted worriedly.

She shook her head with frustration and tried anyway. “I want you to know, I lo—”

Thomas rubbed her back again as she went into another coughing fit. He was sure she was trying to tell him she loved him, and while he wanted to hear those words more than anything in the world, he didn’t want them at the expense of her health.

“You can tell me after,” he assured her, scooping her into his arms once this fit ended. “When you’re feeling better.”

When she merely moaned and sagged weakly against his chest, Thomas held her a little closer and turned toward the stairs. He stumbled over something on the path and glanced down. Spotting her purse, Thomas stooped and rested Inez’s legs on his knees as he picked it up. Fortunately, it was a zippered purse and hadn’t burst open on impact. Slinging it over his shoulder, he slid his arm under her legs again and straightened to walk to the stairs.

Inez remained still and silent in his arms as he mounted the stairs. Thomas kept glancing down at her, his attention torn between the steps and his concern for her.

“Hang in there, Inez. I’ll take you to a hospital. You’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Inez’s reaction to the words was almost violent. Jerking in his arms, she raised panicked eyes to him.

“No…. No hospital,” she protested, her voice hoarse and weak.

Thomas frowned at her upset, but said, “It’s for the best, love. You nearly drowned.”

“He’ll find me,” Inez cried, and the fear in her voice made his heart hurt. It also told him that the immortal hadn’t bothered to wipe his taking control of her from her memories, but then, why would he bother? Thomas was sure the man had intended for her to die. He’d stake his life that he’d been about to snap her neck when he’d intervened.

Perhaps the hospital wasn’t such a good idea, Thomas acknowledged. He didn’t want her out of his sight for a minute from now on and couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t try to separate them at the hospital or try to keep her overnight. The immortal might very well get his hands on her again and Thomas wasn’t allowing that.

“No hospital,” he assured her soothingly as she moved restlessly in his arms. “I’ll take you back to the townhouse now.”

A little sigh of relief slipped from her lips and Inez closed her eyes and went still in his arms, but her expression was still tight with fear. Thomas felt a slow rage begin to burn in him as he peered down at her.

No woman should have to live in fear, and he’d be damned if his was going to, Thomas thought grimly as he started up the stairs. The moment he had Inez back to the townhouse he was going to turn her. The immortal would still be able to read her until she was taught to put up—and keep up—guards, but she would be harder to read and control…and definitely harder to kill. At least she’d have a fighting chance.

The streets were relatively quiet. Thomas only past a few people on his way back to the townhouse and had little trouble wiping the memory of their passing from their minds. The last thing he needed was someone calling the police and telling them they saw a man carrying an unconscious woman through town center. Still, he was so relieved to reach the townhouse that he didn’t notice that the lights he’d turned off on the way out were on again as he struggled to unlock the door and get Inez inside.

Thomas had just kicked the door closed and turned to carry Inez upstairs to the bedroom when that realization struck him. He stopped, one foot on the bottom step as adrenaline began to rush through him, then jerked his eyes to the top of the landing as the sound of a door opening upstairs reached his ears.

When no one appeared at the top of the stairs and he heard movement in one of the rooms, Thomas whirled and hurried silently across the hall and into the living room. He set Inez out of the way on the couch, then turned back and crept toward the door, slowing only long enough to snatch a lamp off a table and jerk the cord out of the wall, before continuing out into the hall.

Fourteen

“You can’t turn Inez without her permission.”

Thomas scowled as Etienne repeated that refrain and wished he’d never mentioned his plans, but simply gone ahead and done it. Actually, he wished he’d koshed his cousin over the head rather than stop himself at the last minute when he’d realized who had just walked out of the bedroom.

After leaving Inez in the living room, Thomas had crept upstairs, the lamp at the ready to batter some immortal butt. He’d been on the landing, just approaching the only closed door—the one with the double bed—when it had suddenly opened and Etienne had walked out.

Thomas had lowered the lamp with relief and then the two men had hugged in greeting and Rachel had come out of the bedroom as Etienne explained that he’d met his deadline and she’d managed to get some time off work and they’d come to help in the search.

The crotchety old man next door had let them into the townhouse when they arrived. He hadn’t been pleased to be rousted from his bed in the middle of the night, but Etienne had slipped into his thoughts and erased the whole event from his mind before sending him back to sleep. When he woke up in the morning, the man would think he’d slept peacefully through the night.

When Rachel had then asked what they’d come up with so far, Thomas had recalled Inez and rushed back downstairs and into the living room with them on his heels.

Rachel had taken one look at the unconscious woman lying pale and soaking on the sofa and sent Thomas upstairs to fetch a nightgown or something for her to change her into. Thomas had rushed upstairs, opened Inez’s suitcase, peered at the sexy black negligee that had been purchased and sent to the hotel in Amsterdam, and promptly closed the suitcase. He’d be damned if Etienne was seeing her in that. He’d then gone to his own knapsack and retrieved one of his shirts, sure that—short as she was—it would hang well past her knees. He’d taken it down to Rachel only to find both he and Etienne banished from the room as Rachel stripped the unconscious woman of her wet clothes and replaced it with the shirt.

The two men had waited in the kitchen until she was finished and then Thomas had given them a quick rundown of what had happened and the deductions they’d come up with before heading upstairs to change. On the way to the stairs, he’d looked in the living room to see that Inez was asleep and tucked under a throw on the sofa.

Etienne had approached while he was staring at her and had said quietly, “Bastien says she’s your life mate.”

Thomas had nodded. “She is and I’m turning her as soon as I finish changing.”

“She’s agreed to it already?” Etienne had asked with surprise.

“No, but I’m doing it anyway,” Thomas had announced and turned to head upstairs.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Etienne had immediately chased after him to argue the point as he changed. By the time Thomas had finished and started out into the hall, the argument had been getting pretty heated. Only the sight of Rachel in the hall had calmed them both down. Unfortunately, it hadn’t made Etienne shut up.

“You can’t,” Etienne repeated firmly, following him when he started downstairs.

“You turned Rachel without getting her permission first,” Thomas growled with resentment.

“Rachel wasn’t conscious. I couldn’t get her permission,” Etienne pointed out, on his heels. “And she was dying; it was the only way to save her.”

“Well, Inez nearly died tonight,” Thomas argued as he stepped off the last step and started across the hall toward the living room door.

“But she didn’t,” Etienne growled, losing some of his patience.

“Only by pure luck,” Thomas said in a soft hiss to avoid waking Inez as he reached the side of the couch where she was sleeping. He peered down at her sleeping form with worry.

“Don’t be so bloody bullheaded. When she wakes up you can ask her and if she agrees you can turn her.”

Thomas stiffened and then wheeled around, his heart thumping with alarm at the suggestion. “And what if she refuses?”

Etienne halted and peered at him silently, obviously uncertain what to say to reassure him. It was Rachel who spoke. Following them into the room, she slipped her hand into her husband’s, presenting a united front as she asked quietly, “Have you not discussed it with her at all?”

Thomas glanced away. “She knows she’s my lifemate, and a little about the turning, but she hasn’t agreed to either be my lifemate or be turned.” His mouth twisted with displeasure as he admitted, “I wanted to give her time to consider it.”

“Well, she’s had some time to think,” Rachel said slowly. “Maybe she won’t refuse.”

“But what if she does?” Thomas persisted and admitted painfully, “I don’t want to lose her, Rachel, and if I turn her now, I won’t.”

“Are you sure?” Rachel asked quietly. “Turning her without permission might actually make you lose her. I wasn’t happy to be turned without my permission, but when it was explained that Etienne had done so to save my life, I understood. Inez would be a different matter entirely. She might resent having her choice taken away and might never forgive you for it.”

Thomas sagged and let his breath out on a sigh, knowing she was right, but…Raising his head he admitted, “I’d rather lose her from my life, but know she was alive and well than lose her altogether to death.”

Rachel’s eyes widened slightly and then slid to the side and back before she clarified, “You’d be willing to live alone and without a lifemate for the rest of your life just to insure Inez was well?”

Thomas nodded grimly.

“Then you must love her a great deal,” she said quietly.

“She’s the woman I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

A sound to the side made Thomas glance to the sofa. He stiffened as he saw that Inez’s eyes were open and she was struggling weakly to sit up, her eyes wide as she peered at him.

“Inez.” Stepping quickly to her side, he lifted her in his arms and then settled on the sofa, settling her upright in his lap. Holding her there, Thomas pressed her close and rubbed her back, his gaze worried as he glanced over her pale face. “How are you feeling? Are you all right? You look so pale,” he added fretfully.

Inez peered at him silently, her expression solemn and then nodded and turned toward Rachel and Etienne as a rustle of clothing accompanied their moving farther into the room.

“This is my cousin, Etienne, and his wife, Rachel. Aunt Marguerite is Etienne’s mother. They’ve come to help us find her.”

Inez managed a small smile and nod, but didn’t try to speak as she offered her hand to the couple in greeting. Recalling that her voice had been hoarse and weak when she’d tried to speak by the riverside, Thomas asked, “Is your throat sore?”

Inez nodded again and then tried to say “yes” but it came out a painful rasp.

“I’ll see if there’s any honey or something to soothe her throat in the kitchen,” Rachel said as she released her hand.

“Thank you,” Thomas and Inez said together, but his voice was the only one to be heard. He scowled and said, “Stop trying to talk. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

“So turn me and stop the pai—” Her raspy voice died as she was claimed by a coughing fit.

Thomas barely noticed that Rachel had stopped in the doorway and turned around wide-eyed. His heart had leapt in his chest and his gaze was fixed on the woman in his arms. He simply stared at her until her fit eased and she fell against his chest exhausted, then lunged to his feet and held her close as he headed for the door. “You heard her. She gave permission.”

“Just a minute,” Etienne said sharply hurrying after him and catching his arm to stop him.

Thomas paused reluctantly between Rachel and Etienne and turned so that he could see both of them. Eyeing his cousin impatiently, he asked, “What now?”

Etienne hesitated and then glanced at Inez and said, “Do you know what you’re agreeing to here?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Vampires are forever, Inez,” he said quietly. “Or long enough that it seems like forever.”

“Thank you very much,” Rachel said from the doorway in dry tones.

Etienne scowled at his wife. “You know what I mean.”

When Rachel nodded slightly, he turned back to Inez. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded again.

“You realize you’ll be his lifemate? Forever?” Etienne persisted.

Inez nodded once more, but when Etienne opened his mouth to speak again, Rachel tsked impatiently. “Just ask her what you really want to know.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows as Rachel now moved in front of them and peered solemnly at Inez.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask this. We love Thomas. He’s a great guy and deserves to be loved. Do you love him? Is that love strong enough to last for centuries?”

Thomas glanced down at Inez, and despite the fact that he was almost positive she’d been trying to tell him she loved him down by the river, her found himself holding his breath. She didn’t simply nod this time, but gave the question the consideration Rachel was demanding. She took a moment, her expression thoughtful, and then she turned a solemn gaze on him for another moment before turning back to Rachel and nodding.

Letting his breath out on a gust of relief, Thomas turned to head out the door. “You heard her. I’m turning her.”

“Dammit Thomas, wait a minute,” Etienne snapped, rushing after him as he started up the stairs. “You can’t do this.”

“The hell I can’t. I can and am doing it right now.”

“Stop thinking with your dick and use your head,” Etienne snarled. “Do we have enough blood here for her to turn? And what about the pain?”

It was the second question that brought him to a halt at the top of the stairs. Frowning, he glanced at Etienne as the man squeezed past to get in front of them on the landing. Rachel followed, and Thomas couldn’t help noticing she was biting her lip and looking worried now.

“It’s painful,” Etienne said grimly, his gaze focused on Inez’s face as he spoke.

Noting the trepidation now growing on Inez’s face, Thomas scowled. “Stop trying to scare her out of it.”

“I’m not, but she should know it’s not all happy, happy, joy, joy,” Etienne said firmly and then turned to Inez again. “I’m not talking toothache pain here. I’m talking unbearable agony, drowning in a vat of acid that’s eating you up inside and out, horrible, nightmare ridden, desperate pain that will make you wish someone would just put a bullet in your brain and end it all…or cut off your head since you’ll be immortal and a bullet wouldn’t kill you.”

Thomas felt Inez shrink against him and snapped, “Shut up, Etienne. How would you know anything about it? You were born one and slept through Rachel’s turning.”

“I was unconscious,” Etienne quickly corrected and then challenged, “And I know you were there for Greg’s turning. Tell her it isn’t true, if you can.”

When Inez turned to him in question, Thomas sighed unhappily. He couldn’t lie to her. From what he’d seen and been told it was a slow ride through hell.

“I’m sorry, “he said finally. “It is very bad. I wish I could go through it for you, but…” He shook his head.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Etienne said quietly. “Despite what you think I’m not trying to stop you, I’m simply trying to slow you down. Rather than do it now, why not call Bastien and have him arrange for blood and drugs to be sent here so that she can turn with at least a little less pain?” He glanced to Inez then and said apologetically, “The drugs don’t stop the pain, but they ease it a little, enough, at least, that it won’t leave you insane at the end of it.”

When her eyes went round, Thomas grimaced. He’d forgotten about that little detail. There had been recorded occasions when turns had come out of it quite mad, their minds snapped by the endless agony. Sure she wouldn’t want to be turned after this, and no longer sure himself that he could endure her suffering so, Thomas turned and started back downstairs, growling, “Call Bastien, then, and get on it. In the meantime, I’m getting her some honey for her throat.”

“You can put me down,” Inez whispered when Thomas carried her into the kitchen and tried to open the cupboard door without releasing her.

“No. I almost lost you. I’m not putting you anywhere. You’re staying with me until we catch this bastard. And stop trying to talk,” he muttered, finally settling her rump on the counter and keeping one arm around her waist as he opened cupboards and rifled through them with his free hand.

Much to his relief, a jar of honey had been in the groceries ordered and delivered to the townhouse. Closing his fingers around it, Thomas slid his arm under her legs, carried her out to the living room and settled on the couch with her. Reaching his arms around her to get both hands on the jar, he unscrewed the cap and then hesitated as he realized he’d forgotten a spoon.

A glance at Inez showed her biting her lip, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

Thomas felt a laugh bubble up in his own chest at his ridiculous behavior and then sighed. “I’m going to set you on the couch and go get you a spoon.”

Inez nodded. “You could do that,” she whispered. “Or you could use your fingers.”

Thomas eyed the challenge in her eyes, and then dipped one finger in the honey jar and scooped up some to hold out before her. Inez leaned forward, opened her mouth and closed it around his finger, slowly drawing her lips the length of the digit, her eyes meeting his the whole time.

“Damn,” Thomas breathed as Little Thomas stirred to life beneath her bottom.

When his finger slid free of her warm, wet mouth, Inez smiled like a satisfied cat and licked her lips. Thomas watched her little pink tongue slide over those soft, full lips and felt Little Thomas come to gasping life. When she finished and raised an eyebrow, he quickly scooped up more honey and held it out.

“For heaven’s sake, Thomas. Use a spoon.”

Little Thomas fell into a faint as Thomas turned sharply to see Rachel standing in the door shaking her head.

“I’ll get you one.” Still shaking her head, Rachel headed off up the hall in search of a spoon.

“I used to like her,” Thomas said sadly, staring at the empty doorway after she’d gone and then glanced quickly at Inez as she fell against him making alarming noises.

Promptly dropping the honey, Thomas caught her by the arms and urged her upper body away from his chest to see her face and figure out what to do to help her, but paused in surprise when he realized that she was laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with confusion, which just brought another round of the rather horrible honking sounds from her.

“Here. You can——” Rachel had started into the room, holding a spoon out before her, but suddenly stopped, her eyes going wide before she hurried forward. “Gees, Thomas, you’ve spilled the honey everywhere!”

He glanced down as she snatched the jar out of Inez’s lap and noted that he had indeed spilled the honey. It was all over her lap, glistening on her bare thighs where the shirt had slid up, not to mention other delightful places that were still mostly covered.

“So I have,” Thomas murmured and stood abruptly to carry Inez around Rachel and out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked with surprise, trailing them to the doorway.

“I’m just going to see her cleaned up,” Thomas called as he hurried up the stairs, bouncing Inez around in his arms. “We’ll be back to hear what Bastien said later…Maybe a lot later. Inez is tired and needs a nap.”

He’d reached the top of the stairs by then and hurried quickly into the bedroom with twin beds, kicking the door closed behind him. Inez was making those horrible raspy, honking sounds again, her body trembling with laughter in his arms, but Thomas didn’t order her to stop laughing to save her voice. Instead, he simply kissed her to shut her up and didn’t stop until the laughter died and a broken moan slid into his mouth.

Satisfied, he lifted his head to peer at her.

Inez opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow and said in a whisper, “I thought you were going to clean me up? Shouldn’t you have taken me to the bathroom for that?”

“Oh no,” Thomas assured her, moving toward the bed. “We don’t need the bathroom for this.”

Inez smiled quizzically. “You’ll need at least a damp washcloth and towel, Thomas, I’m soaked with honey. It started on my upper legs but your bouncing me about sent it running in every direction.”

“I know.” He grinned. “And I will remove every last drop, I promise. I’m in the mood for sweets.”

“Oh,” Inez breathed, her eyes going wide as he laid her on the bed and turned his attention to keeping his promise.

“Good morning, Inez. I hope you’re feeling better this morning.”

Inez stopped just inside the kitchen door, her head turning sharply to find the man seated at the breakfast table. Her eyes widened with surprise as she spotted Bastien Argeneau, seated at the table looking thoughtful. He wore jeans and a T-shirt that made him look no more than twenty-six or -seven. She’d never seen the big boss of Argeneau Enterprises look so casual. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable in the dark slacks and red blouse she’d donned on waking. Inez didn’t usually wear bright colors, but she’d dressed in the dark to avoid waking Thomas and had chosen her clothes by feel rather than color.

“Good morning, Bas—Mr. Argeneau,” she corrected herself quickly. While Thomas, and now Etienne and Rachel, kept referring to him as Bastien, and she’d started to think of him that way, he was still her boss and as such was Mr. Argeneau to her.

“You can call me Bastien,” he said with a smile. “From what I hear, we’re to be in-laws.”

Inez blushed, but didn’t know what to say. No one had said anything about marriage to her. All Thomas had said was that he wanted to turn her and that she was his lifemate. Marriage hadn’t come into it.

Forcing a smile for Bastien, she shuffled her feet, and then asked, “Would you like some tea?”

“Thank you,” Bastien murmured and then added, “I see you still have a bit of a scratchy throat. Did the honey not help?”

Inez’s eyes went round with mortification at the question and she scrambled quickly to the teakettle on the counter, her mind racing. What had Rachel and Etienne told the man? She wondered as she retrieved the jug, removed the lid, and set it on the counter, and then moved to the sink to fill it with water.

“Is there something wrong?” Bastien asked, sounding concerned.

“No,” she squeaked out as she shut off the water. Inez then turned to move back to the kettle, coming to an abrupt halt when she found Bastien there. They both gasped as the water in the jug sloshed over the lip and down his front.

“Oh!” Inez cried in alarm and hurriedly put the jug on the counter to snatch up a dish towel and mop up the liquid. Jabbering away in Portuguese, she pressed the cloth to his chest, patting him with it and following the large wet spot downward.

“Good morning.”

Inez glanced, red-faced, to the door to see a lovely woman with long chestnut hair, an impish smile and wide, amused eyes. Bastien’s fiancée, Terri Simpson. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt that said, “I vant to suck your blooood,” Inez noted, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She’d met the woman in New York and liked her then. Knowing about their kind and seeing the T-shirt she now wore just made her like her more.

Continuing to mop at Bastien, Inez smiled and said, “Hello, Ms. Simpson, I was just—Oh!” Inez snatched away the hand holding the towel as she glanced back and saw that she’d continued blindly mopping at the water all the way to the man’s groin.

Flushing with mortification, she stared down at the towel in her hand, afraid to lift her head and see the expression on her boss’s face…or his fiancée’s for that matter. Stupid hand, Inez thought with despair. How could she be so competent in business and so incompetent in social situations? For heaven’s sake! She’d never done anything so foolish at work. Thank God for that. Surely, Bastien never would have agreed to her becoming vice president if he’d known what a twit she was when away from work. She was forever tripping over her own feet. He was probably going to fire her now that he knew what an idiot she was. He’d—

“Inez?” Bastien said gently, taking the towel from her hand. “It’s all right. I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

She glanced up warily to see amusement twinkling in his eyes as he peered down at her.

“No. He wouldn’t ever think that,” Terri assured her, suddenly at her side, slipping her arm around her to steer her toward the breakfast table. “And we know you aren’t a twit. Bastien has been ranting for days about your being the best damned employee he has in England and cursing Thomas for taking you away from him.”

“He has?” she asked with surprise.

Terri nodded. “Now, you just sit down and relax. You had enough excitement last night. I’ll make the tea while Bastien mops himself up.”

“Thank you,” Inez murmured as she sat down. She then sat watching the couple putter around the kitchen, moving in what almost seemed a choreographed dance around and near each other in the kitchen.

They worked together well, Inez noted. Terri refilled the jug while Bastien finished mopping himself up, then Terri slid by him, their bodies brushing and smiles exchanged as she set the jug back on the electric kettle’s base while he spread the dish towel on the counter to dry. They then encountered each other again exchanging smiles and brushing against each other as she moved to retrieve cups and Bastien found the tea bags. He had the container open by the time Terri set the cups down, and then dropped the bags in each cup and resealed the container while she fetched sugar from the cupboard. And, finally, they brushed bodies again in passing as she headed to the drawer to retrieve spoons and he walked to the refrigerator to retrieve a carton of milk

A little sigh slid from Inez’s lips as she wondered if she and Thomas would work as well together.

“I’m sure you will,” Terri said as she carried the spoons to the table.

Inez stiffened as she realized the woman had read her mind, and then her eyebrows rose as she realized that both of them must have read her mind earlier to know she’d thought the words twit and idiot. They were poking in her head, she thought with dismay and not a little anger.

“We aren’t poking,” Bastien assured her as he set the cream and sugar on the table. “I’m afraid you’re broadcasting your thoughts.”

“He’s right,” Terri agreed as she returned to the counter to wait for the water to boil. “I haven’t quite got the hang of reading thoughts yet unless they are broadcast like yours. It’s because you’re upset,” she informed her kindly. “You’re uncomfortable and flustered because you aren’t sure how to act around Bastien now that you’re involved with Thomas, and embarrassed by the whole drying-his-lap thing, so—in your upset—you’re broadcasting your thoughts.”

“Oh.” Inez sat back in her seat with a sigh. She wasn’t sure what broadcasting was, but believed she probably was doing it anyway.

“And just for the record,” Terri added, picking up the jug as it began to boil and automatically shut off. “I liked you too when we met in New York, and still do, even if you aren’t wearing a cool T-shirt.”

Inez blinked at this easy announcement and then glanced to her boss as he chuckled softly.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” Bastien asked when he noticed her looking his way.

Inez nodded at once, her eyes wide. She’d never seen this side of him before. At work, he was always cool and efficient as far as she knew. But the man obviously adored his fiancée…and was adored right back, she decided when Terri brought the three teas to the table and then kissed him. It started out a tender, affectionate brush of lips, but then started to heat up and Inez bit her lip and glanced away, wondering if she should leave the room. Also wondering if she and Thomas were this bad.

“I’m sure you and Thomas are just as bad,” Bastien said wryly as he and Terri broke apart and took seats at the table. “And there’s no need to leave the room. In fact, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Inez sat up a little straighter in her seat, trying to present a businesslike front. Oddly enough, it was difficult. She hadn’t even thought of work since Thomas had arrived in England and felt out of practice.

“It’s not business,” Bastien said solemnly.

“Okay.” Inez relaxed a little, but then frowned and said. “I didn’t realize the two of you were here last night too. I thought it was just Etienne and Rachel.”

“It was.” Terri raised her teacup to blow on the hot liquid lightly, before adding, “We arrived just before midday.”

Inez nodded, but was surprised they had traveled during daylight. Thomas had gone through scads of blood the day they’d toured Amsterdam before leaving.

“We stocked up on blood,” Bastien assured her, reading her thoughts again. “I brought enough on the plane with us to manage the journey and see to your turning too.”

“Etienne got up and let us in,” Terri added.

“Yes, and then we stayed up a while and talked before going to sleep.”

“Where did you sleep?” Inez asked with a frown. There were only two bedrooms and both were occupied.

“Both couches in the living room pull out,” Bastien explained.

“Which is a good thing,” Terri announced dryly and then explained, “We finally got a hold of Lucern and Kate and they’re on their way here to help look for Marguerite. They should arrive sometime tonight.”

“Lucern and Kate?” Inez asked uncertainly.

“Lucern is Bastien and Etienne’s older brother,” Terri said helpfully. “Kate is his lifemate. He writes romances and she does too now, though she used to be his editor. She’s also my cousin.”

“Oh. I think Wyatt has mentioned them,” Inez said, but was thinking the townhouse was about to become very crowded.

“I hear someone moving around upstairs,” Terri said quietly.

Bastien stiffened and looked almost alarmed as he glanced toward the ceiling. He sat stiff and still, listening for a moment, and then suddenly relaxed, saying, “It’s Etienne. Thomas was always a late sleeper.”

Inez felt trepidation creep down her neck at those words. They seemed to suggest that his tension was because it might have been Thomas. Why would it upset him if Thomas got up?

“Because we want to talk to you before he comes down,” Bastien said quietly. “In fact, I’m afraid if you hadn’t come below when you did, I would have slipped into your thoughts and brought you down.”

Inez sat back in her seat, her eyes widening with distinct dislike at what she considered to be a threat. Having experienced being controlled, she wasn’t likely to look kindly on anyone who suggested they might do it.

“It wouldn’t have been anything like what happened to you last night,” Bastien said quietly. “I would have eased your thoughts so you weren’t frightened.”

“It still would have been forcing me to do something against my will,” she pointed out coldly.

“Yes, I know,” Bastien admitted apologetically. “And we generally don’t do it unless it’s necessary. With most mortals that constitutes keeping them from learning something that could endanger our people or themselves.”

“And with me?” she asked, her accent a little thicker with her upset.

“Because we needed to talk to you without Thomas,” he said simply.

“Why?” Inez snapped the word, her wariness leaping back to full throttle.

“Last night Bastien and I came up with a way to find Mother,” Etienne announced from the doorway. Walking into the room as they all glanced his way, he moved to the teakettle and began to make himself a tea with the just-boiled water as he continued, “But we knew Thomas wouldn’t even consider it and we wanted to see what you thought of it without him there bellowing ‘No!’ and drowning us out.”

“And before you ask, yes, we are certain he won’t be pleased with our idea, because we wouldn’t be pleased if it were Terri or Rachel we were asking to do this,” Bastien said, his voice quiet. “In fact, I’m not too happy to ask you to do it, but we couldn’t think of any other way.”

Inez glanced slowly over each person in the room, noting their grim expressions and thinking that they rather sucked as salesmen. All they’d managed to do so far was scare her silly, and they hadn’t even yet said what they wanted her to do.

“You’re right, of course, we aren’t selling the idea well,” Bastien said, a small wry smile briefly twisting his lips. “First of all, before we even mention it, I want you to know that you are completely free to say no. We won’t be angry or upset and neither your job nor your acceptance into the family will be affected. We’d just have to brainstorm and hopefully come up with something else.”

“It’s just that this seems like the way most likely to succeed,” Etienne added, joining them at the table with his tea.

“Oh boy, this gets better and better,” Inez said dryly. “Please, just tell me what you want.”

There was silence as Etienne and Bastien exchanged a glance and then Bastien faced her solemnly and said, “From what I understand, you’ve been controlled and mind-wiped twice and then controlled and nearly killed last night?”

Inez nodded slowly, that creeping feeling of trepidation turning into a fast march of all-out fear.

“He seems to have focused on you,” Etienne pointed out.

“Probably because I’m the only vulnerable one,” Inez said dryly. “He can’t control Thomas or any of you.”

“We’re hoping he doesn’t know the rest of us are here,” Etienne said. “He was presumably trailing you and Thomas around when Rachel and I showed up, and it was daylight when Bastien and Terri arrived.” He shook his head. “He won’t know we’re here…which is to our benefit.”

Before Inez could ask why, Bastien continued, “The point is that he’s focused on you, and we’re hoping to use that focus to trap him so that we can ask questions and get answers out of him. We hope to find out where Mother is.”

“You want me to be bait in this trap,” she said slowly.

“I’m afraid so,” Bastien acknowledged. “And we need to do it right away, before he realizes the rest of us are here, which means you can’t be turned until afterward…which leaves you somewhat vulnerable.”

“Will you do it?” Etienne asked.

“No, she damned well won’t!” Thomas said coldly from the door.

Fifteen

“I can’t believe you talked her into this,” Thomas growled, his eyes fastened on Inez in the coffee shop across the street. He’d walked her there from the townhouse, stopping in a bookshop along the way to pick up a couple of books to make it look like a normal outing, and then had escorted her to the coffee shop, ordered two cappuccinos, and sat with her for about ten minutes before looking at his watch as if just thinking of something he had to do or someone he had to meet. He’d then got up and hurried out of the shop.

Thomas had walked two blocks in the direction of the townhouse, and then had turned the corner and backtracked up the next street to join Bastien and Etienne on top of one of the few modern buildings in York. The roof of this building was the reason they’d chosen the coffee shop he and Inez had visited the day before. The three men could—and were—lying on their stomachs on the flat roof, peering down on the shop across the street. Its position and the glass windows that walled the coffee shop gave them a perfect view of every inch of the building and everyone in it. Not that it mattered. Thomas didn’t care about seeing anyone else, he hadn’t torn his eyes from Inez since dropping to lie between Etienne and Bastien several minutes ago.

“We didn’t have to talk her into it,” Bastien reminded him wearily from his right, his own gaze fixed on the coffee shop. “She listened to the plan, thought it was a good one and agreed to do it.”

“Then I never should have let you tell her the plan,” Thomas snapped. “I should have dragged her right upstairs and turned her at once.”

“Why did you let her listen?” Etienne asked from his left. “I was rather surprised that you stopped yelling and bellowing, and settled down to let us explain what we were thinking of doing.”

“Because I didn’t want her to think I was a bloody dictator,” he admitted with regret, and then added, “Besides, I thought she had the sense to say no.” Shaking his head, he scowled at the woman under discussion and asked with bewilderment, “How could a woman who is as competent and accomplished in business as Inez is agree to this nonsense of a plan?”

“Precisely because she is competent and accomplished and saw that this was really a very sensible plan,” Bastien said through gritted teeth.

Thomas was so angry he finally tore his eyes from Inez and turned sharply on Bastien. “Sensible? You’ve thrown a helpless bit of bait in the water without attaching a hook first and are hoping that when the shark shows up, you can dive in and chase after it before it eats the bait. That’s not a plan, it’s a suicide mission and you sent my lifemate on it,” he said heavily and then added bitterly, “And without letting me turn her first which—at least—would have made her harder to kill and given her a fighting chance.”

“I know,” Bastien said, guilt joining the weariness in his eyes as he met his gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to her, Thomas, I promise. But whoever this guy is, he seems to have focused on Inez for some reason. He has to be connected with Mother’s going missing.” He glanced back to the building across the street unhappily. “It’s been seven days now since we’ve heard from Mother, we’re…I,” he corrected quietly. “I am getting desperate. We couldn’t wait another day until she was turned.”

“I’m worried about Aunt Marguerite too,” Thomas said stiffly, his own gaze shifting back to Inez again. “But dammit, Bastien, I’m not willing to sacrifice Inez to find her. Especially if we’d just figured out what she figured out.”

Bastien glanced at him with confusion. “What do you mean what she figured out?”

“Well, that’s why he’s focused on Inez,” Thomas pointed out and then frowned. “At least I think it is. She must have figured out something. That’s the only thing that makes sense.” Thomas watched Inez brush her hair behind her ear as she read the book she held. “We were talking about who the seven people in the group might have been.”

“The seven people in the group?” Etienne asked with confusion, reminding Thomas of his presence. “What are you talking about?”

“With Aunt Marguerite,” Thomas said and then explained the conclusions Inez had come to about the room request. “We were trying to figure out who the seven people were when Inez excused herself to find the ladies’ room. I wondered if she hadn’t kept fretting over the problem while away from me and came up with the answer. I thought maybe he had controlled her, and sent her back to the table with her mind wiped because of that. Hoping, perhaps, that removing the memory would remove the problem, but then when we talked about it in the pub afterward…” He shook his head. “We were trying to sort it out and I went to get us more drinks and came back and she was gone. That’s when he tried to kill her.”

“So you think because she kept coming up with the answer that he’d realized wiping the memory wouldn’t suffice and that he’d have to kill her…” Etienne reasoned slowly.

“Rather than letting her identify these seven people…” Bastien continued.

“Which would lead us to Aunt Marguerite,” Thomas finished with a nod. “Or at least put us one step closer.”

A moment of silence passed and then Thomas cast a quick glance to both his cousins. Etienne and Bastien had their eyes on the coffee shop across the street, but they also wore thoughtful expressions and he knew they were probably trying to figure out what it was Inez had sorted out. Scowling to himself, he shook his head and turned back to the coffee shop. It was his opinion that they should have been thinking about this before dropping Inez out as bait. They should have made her talk out the matter of who it could be and not let her out of their sight to ensure the bastard couldn’t get his hands on her again.

Thomas shifted his eyes to a woman with short spiky black hair as she walked past Inez, studiously ignoring her. He followed her with his eyes as she moved to the stairs and went below. It was hard to believe that was Etienne’s redheaded wife, Rachel. The wig and goth clothes she wore made her completely unrecognizable.

He watched her stop at the counter on the main floor and place an order, and then lifted his gaze back to the second floor where Terri in a long blond wig and flowery dress was also at the ready. She too was hard to recognize in the get up.

Rachel returned upstairs with her drink and claimed a different table where she could still watch both Inez and the stairs. The moment she was seated, Terri stood and headed below to fetch herself another drink. Thomas wished they wouldn’t, he’d rather both women not be more than five feet away from Inez, but knew they would be kicked out if they didn’t have something to eat or drink.

Inez would soon have to refresh her cappuccino too, Thomas thought and glanced down at his watch, frowning when he saw that she’d been seated alone for more than half an hour.

“It’s not going to work,” he announced with relief. “If he was going to make a move, he would have done it by now.”

“He’s right, Bastien,” Etienne said, but he sounded disappointed rather than relieved.

Bastien was silent for a minute and then said, “She’s reading a book.”

“As you instructed,” Thomas said. She was reading one of Lucern’s novels. She’d insisted on buying it so she wouldn’t have to admit that she’d never read his work when Lucern and Kate arrived later that day. “You said to get her something to read so she wasn’t sitting there thinking about the trap, unintentionally warning the guy off.”

Bastien nodded silently and then said, “Call her.”

“Why?” Thomas asked warily.

“You have to tell her to try to figure out who the seven people are. If she did work it out and that’s what set him on her before, she might work it out again, and he might make a move,” he explained. “After you call her, Etienne and I will call Rachel and Terri and tell them what’s happening and not to let their guard down in case the long wait makes them think nothing’s likely to happen.”

Thomas peered unhappily down at Inez. He didn’t want the guy to make his move. He wanted to take Inez back to the townhouse and keep her safe, not to mention turn her. When Bastien touched his arm, he turned reluctantly to peer at him.

“Please, Thomas, I promise I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll jump off this building in full view of everyone, if necessary, to give chase and keep her safe.”

That was a big deal. Bastien was the one constantly berating anyone for doing the least little thing to draw attention to their kind. For him to be willing to openly reveal what he was if it became a necessity to save her…

Sighing, Thomas slid the phone out of his pocket and called Inez.

Inez turned the page of the book in her hands, her eyes eating up the story of how Thomas’s cousin Lissianna and her husband had got together. It was fascinating to read about people she’d met as well as those she would soon meet, and she was glad she’d picked it up. It was actually distracting her from the reason she was there, which was exactly why Bastien had said she should read.

Realizing that her thoughts were heading into an area she was supposed to avoid, Inez forced herself to concentrate on the story once more and reached blindly for her cappuccino, frowning and glancing down at it when she tipped it to her mouth and got nothing.

Her cup was empty she saw and wondered how long she’d been there. She was about to check her wristwatch when her cell phone began to ring. Leaning to the side, Inez picked up her purse and quickly dug out her phone.

“Hello?” she said as she placed the phone to her ear.

“Inez, I’m sorry to be taking so long,” Thomas said quietly, and she presumed it was in case she was being read and then immediately tried not to think about that.

“That’s all right,” she murmured, managing not to look around and try to spot the men on the roof where they were supposed to be positioned to watch her.

“I shouldn’t be much longer, but in the meantime, I was thinking about that seventh person business.”

Inez tilted her head, a frown plucking at her brow. “Were you?”

“Yes, and I want you to think who those seven people might be while you wait,” Thomas said, his voice very solemn.

Inez stiffened, understanding at once.

“Can you do that?” Thomas didn’t sound like he really wanted her to, but she wasn’t surprised. He’d been angry with her ever since she’d agreed to be the bait in Bastien and Etienne’s plan. In fact, he’d been short and stiff with her when he brought her here to the café. She’d almost been relieved when he’d left after sitting with her for ten minutes or so.

“Yes,” she answered calmly. “I’ll do that.”

There was a long silence and she knew Thomas wanted to say something, but was hesitating. Finally, he simply said, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes,” Inez whispered and closed the phone, and then slipped it back into her purse.

Leaving her purse on the table, she closed her book, but continued to hold it. She stared down at it, trying to do what Thomas had suggested and then glanced around as she heard a phone ring. Spotting Rachel pressing her phone to her ear, she glanced quickly away, cutting off the thought that Etienne must be calling to tell her what was going on. And then her gaze moved to Terri and away, as her phone too began to ring.

Forcing her mind away from the two women, Inez concentrated on focusing her thoughts. It took her several moments to manage it, however, but finally she found herself picking away at the puzzle of who the seven people in Marguerite’s party could have been, but nothing happened. She wasn’t suddenly controlled and forced to leave the café. Instead, half an hour passed and then her phone, Rachel’s, and Terri’s all rang at the same time.

“He’s not going to make his move,” Thomas said in her ear. “Something must have scared him off. Etienne and Bastien and I are coming down.”

Inez felt her back and shoulders, and indeed, her entire body suddenly relax. She’d thought she’d been relatively calm about sitting there playing bait under the watchful eyes of five immortals, but now that it was over, Inez realized she hadn’t been as relaxed as she’d thought, or even really distracted by the book she’d been reading. It had absorbed her conscious attention, but her subconscious had been as wound up as a clock.

“We’ll be there in about five minutes,” Thomas continued. “Why don’t you order us both a cappuccino and we’ll relax a bit and decide where you want to have your last meal as a mortal.”

Inez wanted to smile at his words, he certainly sound cheerful saying them, but then he wasn’t the one who was going to suffer the unbearable agony, drowning in a vat of acid that’s eating you up inside and out, horrible, nightmare-ridden, desperate pain that will make you wish someone would just put a bullet in your brain and end it all. At least that’s how she thought Etienne had put it. While she wanted to be with Thomas, the whole suffering-the-agony-of-the-damned part to do so kind of sucked.

“Yes,” she said her tone solemn. “I’ll go order us both a cappuccino and see you when you get here.”

“I love you,” Thomas said and then hung up before she could respond. Inez wasn’t sure if she was glad or not. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t yet actually told him that she loved him. She’d nodded when Rachel had asked if she loved Thomas, but had never got the chance to actually say the words to him. She would do so the minute he got here, Inez decided…and then maybe she’d suggest they put off turning her until after Marguerite was found, or maybe longer. She loved him, but was not a great fan of pain.

“Inez? I’m going down to get another tea while I wait for the men to get here. Do you want anything?”

Glancing up, Inez smiled as she peered over at Terri in her wig and dress. She looked totally different in the outfit. Standing, she said, “I’ll come with you, I have to order Thomas a cappuccino too.”

“Okay. Don’t forget your purse,” Terri said easily.

Inez picked up her purse and was putting the book in her bag when Rachel joined them to descend the stairs.

“I swear, Terri, you look like a Stepford wife in that getup,” Etienne’s wife said with a light laugh and then added, “A gorgeous Stepford Wife, but still a Stepford wife. Did Bastien ask you to keep the wig for later?”

Inez laughed at the way Rachel was wiggling her eyebrows as she asked the question, but laughed harder when Terri blushed and nodded her head.

“Do they have a bathroom in this place?” Terri asked as they stepped off the stairs.

“Yes. Just there,” Inez said helpfully, pointing out the door to the left of the stairs.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll be right back.”

Inez trailed Rachel to the counter as Terri moved off toward the door to the bathrooms.

“I wonder what their lemon muffins are like,” Rachel murmured as they waited for an older woman to give and collect her order.

“They’re quite good. Thomas and I had them the other day.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have one of those and a latte, then,” Rachel murmured.

Nodding, Inez glanced over the board herself, trying to decide what she wanted. She was still looking when the woman at the counter claimed her order and moved on, When Rachel gestured for her to go first, Inez shook her head and waved her on. “I’m still looking.”

Nodding, Rachel stepped up to the counter to give her order, and Inez turned to peer back to the board, but found herself continuing to turn until she faced the door, and then she was walking out of the café.

A silent scream immediately went off inside her head as Inez realized what was happening and that Rachel would be too distracted to notice until it was too late.

Inez had been so relaxed just then. Thinking it was over she’d dropped all her guards and hadn’t been prepared for this sudden hijacking of her mind and body. Her memories of being controlled last night had been fuzzy and fractured when she’d woken up on the couch and heard Thomas, Etienne, and Rachel talking. Little bits and pieces and flashes of fuzzy scenes and faint feelings were all she’d been able to grasp at, but as the terror of it all struck her anew, Inez recalled last night’s events with stunning clarity.

The terror of being controlled and made to do someone else’s bidding, the endless walk along dark streets in the cool night breeze, all the while wondering what her controller planned to do with her. The inability to do a single thing to stop what was happening or protect or defend herself in any way as he’d stopped and made her turn to face the river while knowing with every fiber of her being that he was about to kill her.

It was like that again now as she was made to walk once more up dark York streets to what she feared might, this time, be her death. As that thought struck her, Inez felt herself giving up and shrinking under the terror claiming her.

“Inez!”

Rachel’s voice was like a lifeline in the middle of an ocean. Relief pouring through her, Inez immediately began to fight, trying to regain control and battle the mind controlling hers. It didn’t work. There was no sudden stutter in her step, not even a miniscule movement of her mouth as she tried to cry out to Rachel. Instead, her body began to move more quickly, bursting into a run that sent her flying down the street at a speed Inez had never realized she had in her.

Rather than be alarmed at this, Inez took it as a sign that she might yet have a chance. Rachel must be in pursuit, and there was no way she could outrun her. The woman was an immortal and Thomas had said immortals had increased strength and speed. Inez was confident the woman would catch up to her quickly and she would be saved…so long as she didn’t have a heart attack and die first by the effort being forced on her, Inez thought with reawakened alarm as her body began to move even faster. Her arms and legs were pumping at an unnatural speed that she was sure her body alone could never manage and would not be able to sustain long. Her heart was already racing in a way she’d never before experienced as it tried desperately to supply the oxygen this race required.

A man suddenly stepped out on the sidewalk in front of her, and Inez’s eyes widened in horror as she recognized him. Tall, blond, bearded, and dressed all in black, he had a cold face without a drop of humanity or mercy in it. He had stepped out much like this last night, Inez recalled, though she hadn’t been running then. He suddenly reached out with one arm and snatched her up.

Inez would have grunted in pain as her stomach crashed into his arm if she could have, but the blond man was now running, moving faster than her body had been able to accomplish. She was being carried along, her upper body leaning slightly forward over his arm, her head turned by the impetus so that she could just see Rachel out of the corner of her eye.

The woman was racing down the street behind them, grim determination on her face and Inez could have wept with relief to know she wasn’t yet lost. A quick rage soon followed as Inez mentally balked at the unfairness of it all. Were the blond man not controlling her, she’d be kicking and screaming and clawing the skin off his arm. She’d have fought him with her last breath, but she wasn’t being given that opportunity. Despite being bigger and stronger and faster, despite the fact that he was an immortal, impossible to kill since she had no idea how to, he was even now controlling her body and preventing her from defending herself. The man was a bloody coward, she decided, afraid to risk her puny struggles.

Much to her amazement, her captor suddenly stumbled in his step and she was sure his control on her slipped briefly, long enough for her to instinctively clench her fists in rage.

Realizing the man was still in her mind in order to control her, Inez thought she might have a weapon after all.

You really are a coward. I suspected as much when you cut and ran last night the minute Thomas showed up. But I just thought you were afraid to take on someone your own size, I never expected you to be afraid of little mortal me. What’s wrong? When you were a little boy immortal did a little mortal girl punch or scratch you? I bet that’s what happened, and I bet you cried like a baby.

“Keep it up. I shall kill you slowly and painfully and enjoy the doing.”

Inez stiffened unsure if he’d actually spoken the words aloud as he ran, or if he’d somehow communicated them to her with his mind. Thomas had never said they could talk in your head, but they could alter memories in a mortal’s mind, why not a thought?

I’m sure you will. And no doubt you’ll control me the entire time so I’m completely defenseless. The big superior immortal, torturing a defenseless mortal female to death. Woo-woo! You should be proud. But then I bet that’s how you get off. It’s probably the only way you get off. Are you impotent? Inez asked in her head with interest.

I bet you are, she added. I bet you have a really small penis too. I mean, I know nanos put you at your peak physical condition and all that, but some of you peak a little smaller than others, huh? And, I suppose, nanos can only do so much.

Inez felt his control falter. Excited, she persisted, Seriously, I want to know. Are you hung like a horse and just mean or did fate stick you with a mini tootsie roll between your legs that women stare at in horror and then say the dreaded, “size doesn’t matter?”

She’d definitely hit a sore point there, because a wave of rage poured through her mind and then died abruptly as the immortal’s control over her suddenly collapsed. Knowing it wouldn’t last long, Inez immediately kicked back one leg with all her force. She’d hoped to break his knee or something. Instead, she jammed her leg back as he was midstep, sticking it between one leg and the other like a wrench between the spokes of a fast-moving bicycle tire. Unfortunately, her leg wasn’t as hard and solid as a metal wrench.

Still free of his control, Inez screamed in agony as her leg was mulched between both of his, one pushing forward against her calf bone, while his other leg swung back, snapping the bone with a thick cracking sound. She was still screaming as he pitched to the side and the ground rushed up toward her. While her leg had broken, it had also tripped him up. He was falling, some part of her mind realized and Inez had just enough time to hope she hadn’t just killed herself before her head slammed into concrete. Stars exploded behind her eyes, along with the pain in her head and then they were rolling, the immortal still clutching her in the crook of his arm as they tumbled down what she thought were stairs.

“Inez!”

She barely heard Rachel’s shriek as the lights behind her eyes began to fade and blessed unconscious took her away from the pain.

“What do you think warned him off?” Etienne asked with a frown as he, Bastien, and Thomas descended the stairs down from the roof of the building they’d chosen to watch the coffee shop.

“I’m not sure,” Bastien said, sounding weary. “Inez may not have been able to keep all thoughts of what we were up to out of her mind.”

“Don’t blame Inez for this,” Thomas said through gritted teeth as they stepped off the stairs and headed out the door into the alley between the rows of buildings. “I’m sure she did everything she could. She agreed to help, didn’t she? Putting herself at risk for your stupid plan.”

“It wasn’t a criticism,” Bastien assured him, soothingly. “And we do appreciate it. We also know how hard this has been on you, Thomas, and I’m sorry about that. We were just hoping to catch the bastard and find Mother.”

“Well, I want to find her too, but…” Thomas paused in the alley, frustrated that he couldn’t find the words to say what he felt. He was terrified of losing either woman, but Marguerite might already be lost to them, and he didn’t want to lose Inez to find that out. Hell, he didn’t want to lose her at all. Given a choice between saving one woman or the other, Thomas would rather die himself.

“But Marguerite is your aunt and Inez is your lifemate and you’d rather not lose either of them,” Etienne said quietly, saying what he thought Thomas was trying and failing to verbalize.

“Marguerite is my mother too,” Thomas snapped bitterly. “She’s the only mother I know.”

“You called her Mother as a child,” Bastien said quietly.

“Yeah, well, Jean Claude soon put a stop to that,” he muttered wearily, and then shook his head and turned away to continue up the alley. “Let’s go. The women are waiting.”

Bastien and Etienne hesitated and then fell into step on either side of him to walk out of the alley. They walked the rest of the way in silence, coming around the corner half a short block up from the coffee shop in time to see Terri come rushing out of the café, panic on her face.

“Something’s wrong,” Bastien growled and burst into a run.

His heart lurching with alarm because Inez was nowhere to be seen, Thomas raced past his cousin.

“Where is she?” he demanded, grabbing Terri roughly by the arms.

“I don’t know,” Terri cried with distress. “We all went down to get coffees for everyone and I went into the bathroom. But when I came out, Rachel and Inez were gone.”

“Rachel’s gone too?” Etienne asked with alarm as he reached them.

“Where did they go?” Thomas asked, ignoring him.

“Someone must have seen. Did you read the guy behind the counter? He had an eye for Inez and would have noticed her leaving.”

“I tried, but…” She shook her head helplessly, guilt filling her eyes.

“It’s all right,” Bastien said as he caught up. Slipping his arm around her, he gave her a quick hug as he explained to Thomas. “She hasn’t finished her training Thomas. Terri can’t read mortals well yet. I’ll do it now,” he added, giving his fiancée a quick squeeze and then releasing her to hurry into the café.

Thomas whirled away from the woman, not angry at her but just plain angry as he peered up the road one way and then the other. There was no sign of either woman.

“Maybe we should split up, you go one way and I go the other,” Etienne suggested anxiously.

Thomas turned cold eyes on his cousin. “The plan doesn’t look so good when your own lifemate gets caught in it, does it?”

Etienne winced and briefly closed his eyes, then blinked them open and said, “I’m sorry, Thomas. I deserve that. We thought we had all the bases covered.”

“The fact is, Etienne, that you can cover all the bases you want, but if you put a ball into the game, it’s going to get hit by the bat at some point,” he snarled.

“That way!” Bastien yelled, rushing out of the café.

Thomas glanced toward the man, and then burst into a run in the direction his cousin was pointing. The others were immediately on his heels.

Sixteen

Inez woke to the sound of, well it sort of sounded like sex—with grunts and moans and sighs and—Realizing she was making the sounds and definitely wasn’t making them out of enjoyment, Inez forced her mouth closed and opened her eyes.

The good news was that she had control of herself again, or still, Inez supposed since she’d got it back just before the tumble they’d taken. The bad news was she was lying on a path at the bottom of a set of stone steps, bloody and broken…and she definitely felt broken. Pain was attacking her everywhere. Her leg, her back, her stomach, her head, one arm…

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Inez lifted her head and tried to peer at herself. She didn’t see much before her head began to swim and she fell back, and yet it was more than enough. She was on her back, her lower leg bent to the side mid-calf in a most unnatural way, her left shoulder looked funny and she thought it was either broken or dislocated, there was some kind of wound on her lower stomach that seemed to be bleeding copiously, and the minute she’d tipped her head up, blood had poured down over her face from a head wound. Oh yeah, she was broken all right.

A furious growl caught her attention, and Inez shifted her gaze to the side, eyes widening slightly as she saw Rachel fighting with the blond immortal some feet away.

Inez watched, and soon realized she hadn’t been the only one injured in the fall. The bearded blond was fighting with one broken arm hanging loose at his side. Rachel was taking every opportunity to boot or punch him in that injured arm, and when he cried out and grabbed it, she went for his groin or head.

Inez was truly impressed and wondered if the woman had taken self-defense classes before becoming an immortal. Although, there was nothing saying she couldn’t. Rachel could have taken them after becoming an immortal.

A furious roar rang in the air and Inez frowned because she hadn’t seen the blond immortal’s mouth move. And she was quite sure the sound hadn’t come from Rachel. That had definitely been a male sound…or perhaps the sound of a truck driving by, Inez thought vaguely and slowly turned her eyes to look up to the road.

A mild sense of surprised flowed through her when she saw Thomas frozen at the top of the stone steps. Inez could see his eyes glowing silver in the darkness and seriously hoped the man didn’t think he was getting any sex in her condition. She loved him dearly, but really this wasn’t the time for that sexy silver glow he always got when he was in the mood, she thought a little fuzzily.

It was getting harder to think and she hadn’t really been all that clearheaded since the fall, but suspected the deteriorating state of her mind might have something to do with the blood gushing out of her from several spots.

The roar of fury and anguish that suddenly ripped from his throat caught Thomas completely by surprise. It pushed its way up from his chest and exploded from his lips when he saw Inez lying bloody and broken at the base of the stairs like a doll tossed from above. Launching himself forward, he scrambled down the stairs as if caught in a landslide, his body moving more quickly with each step until he leapt the last two to land on the ground beside Inez.

He was aware of Bastien and Etienne rushing past to chase after the blond immortal, but knew they wouldn’t catch him. His roar had made both Rachel and the bearded man glance his way. The minute Thomas had started down the stairs, the man had burst into action, giving a still-distracted Rachel a shove that sent her flying onto her back before whirling away to flee. It had given him all the head start he needed.

Eyes roving over Inez’s injuries, Thomas dropped to his knees and instinctively reached for her. Slipping his arms beneath her, he scooped her up against his chest, and then stilled when she moaned in pain. His heart began to beat again then. Thomas had been sure she was dead and had already begun to grieve, but as much as her pain-filled moan hurt his heart, it was also music to his ears.

“Inez,” he whispered into her hair, his eyes squeezing closed against the tears of relief that tried to fill them. “It’s all right, love. You’re all right.”

“No,” she mumbled weakly into his neck. “No sex, Thomas. I hurt.”

“She’s delirious.”

Thomas raised his eyes to see Terri at his side, concern clear on her face. He then glanced past her as the others now moved to join them. His eyes narrowed on his cousins and he opened his mouth to rip into them and then froze and glanced down at Inez with alarm.

“Her heartbeat’s slowing,” he said with dull horror.

“Lay her down, Thomas,” Bastien ordered grimly, dropping to his knees beside him.

Thomas whipped his head toward him, wanting to smash him for causing all this with his stupid plan, but wouldn’t release Inez to do it. Before he could at least tell him to go to hell, Bastien said firmly, “I know you probably hate me right now, Thomas, but believe me, it can’t be more than I hate myself. Now put her down so Rachel can look at her. You might have to start the turn right away if we’re to save her.”

Thomas hesitated one moment and then eased Inez onto her back on the ground.

Rachel immediately knelt on her opposite side. While she worked in a morgue, she was a doctor, and that showed through as she moved her hands quickly over Inez, muttering as she went. “Broken leg, broken collarbone, broken ribs, fractured skull…She’s lost a lot of blood…too much.” She glanced up at Thomas and said, “You have to turn her. Now.”

“It won’t wait until we get back to the townhouse?” Terri asked with concern.

“She’ll be dead by the time we get back to the townhouse,” Rachel announced baldly.

Thomas immediately raised his wrist toward his mouth, intending to tear into it with his teeth, but an open pocket knife appeared before his face.

Glancing at Etienne who was holding it out, Thomas muttered, “Thanks,” and then took it and sliced a four inch gash up his wrist. Ignoring the pain radiating all the way up into his shoulder, he immediately leaned forward, only to stop when he realized Inez’s mouth was closed.

Rachel quickly used one hand on her forehead and the other on her chin to pull her lips apart. Thomas then pressed his wrist to Inez’s mouth.

“Hey! Is everything all right down there?”

Thomas didn’t even bother to glance around, leaving it to the others to deal with. He was vaguely aware of Etienne moving away to do so, and then raised his wrist to peer at it, frowning when he saw that the nanos were doing their work and the bleeding had stopped.

“Did she get enough?” Rachel asked Bastien.

Thomas glanced over to see the frown on his face. Knowing he was hesitating to say something, he snapped, “What is it?”

“She’s probably had enough to initiate the turn,” he said slowly.

“But?” Thomas asked, knowing there was more.

“But if her condition is as bad as Rachel said, she might not survive long enough for her body to repair itself and complete the change,” he admitted and then added quickly, “But I’ve heard the more blood an immortal gives, the faster repairs can be made and the better the chance of a badly injured mortal surviving the turn.”

He’d barely finished the words before Thomas was slicing himself open again. It made complete sense to him. The more nanos he poured into her, the faster they could work and they were definitely working against time here. Inez’s heartbeat was still slowing with every passing moment.

Thomas sliced his arm open six times before allowing the others to convince him that he’d given her enough. He then scooped her into his arms and tried to stand, his heart lurching in alarm when he found himself swaying weakly and nearly dropping Inez.

“Give her to me, Thomas,” Bastien said quietly.

Thomas scowled at the man, but didn’t really have a choice. He wasn’t at all certain that he could get back to the townhouse without help himself. He definitely couldn’t manage the feat while carrying her. He reluctantly let Bastien take her, staggering after him when he turned away with her in his arms and then stumbling to a halt as the ground swayed under his feet.

“Let me help you.” Etienne was at his side, drawing his arm over his shoulders. “We’ll get you both back to the townhouse and give you blood. You gave up a lot and must be in pain.”

Thomas was actually in agony, but didn’t comment, his concentration was on staying on his feet as they moved to the stairs.

That walk was the longest of his life. Thomas was fuzzy-headed and suffering pain from the blood loss, but he was also furious at the very people now trying to help him for putting Inez in this predicament and anxious over the agony she was soon going to go through—and, in fact, was beginning to experience. Increasing the amount of blood given might be good for speeding up repairs, but it also sped up the onset of the agony, and Inez was already moaning and beginning to thrash in pain as they turned up the short walk in front of the rented townhouse.

Terri rushed ahead to unlock the front door and light splashed over them as it opened. Thomas heard Terri exclaim in surprise, but didn’t understand why until Etienne helped him in through the door and he saw Lucern and Kate in the hall, and Vincent and his lifemate Jackie in the doorway to the living room.

Thomas glanced at them, but couldn’t muster up any interest in their presence. The pain had grown increasingly worse as they were making their way back to the house, while the nanos still in his system tried to replicate themselves, using up what little blood was left. They’d moved out of his bloodstream in search of blood and he was suffering, but when he realized Bastien was carrying Inez into the living room, he mustered up the strength to growl, “Upstairs. Our room.”

Bastien didn’t argue. He turned toward the stairs at once, asking Terri to bring up one of the coolers of blood they’d brought with them as he started up.

Etienne turned Thomas in that direction to follow, but before they could reach the stairs, Thomas was hit by a wave of pain that made him double over and his legs buckle. Whether Etienne managed to keep him from falling or not, he never knew. He lost consciousness.

When he woke up, Thomas found himself lying in one of the twin beds in the room he and Inez had chosen. An already half-empty bag of blood was stuck to his fangs and Etienne and Terri were leaning over him, worried expressions on their faces.

Terri looked relieved when his eyes opened, but Etienne just looked more worried and turned to announce, “He’s waking up.”

Thomas saw his lips move and wondered why it was so hard to hear his words and then realized a high, keening scream was rending the air. Turning his head sharply, he saw Inez thrashing on the opposite bed while Rachel and Bastien tried to hold her down.

Ignoring the pain still eating away at him, Thomas ripped the bag from his mouth. Blood immediately shot from the punctures where his fangs had been, splashing up and out like a geyser, but Thomas ignored that too and dropped it to the bed as he tried to get up and go to Inez.

“Dammit!” Etienne caught him by the shoulders, forcing him back on the bed with little effort as Terri scrambled to grab the spraying bag.

“Stay put,” Etienne said grimly as Terri wrapped the bag in a towel and rushed from the room. “You need more blood. You’ll be no good to her until you’ve got your strength back. Bastien and Rachel are helping Inez.”

“Why haven’t they given her drugs yet?” Thomas growled, giving up struggling against Etienne. It wasn’t working anyway, the man was using only one hand to hold him down and didn’t have to put much strength behind it to do it.

“They’re in the other cooler. Lucern is getting them now,” he explained and then added, “We just got you both up here. That bag was the first we put to your teeth.”

“Here.” Marguerite’s oldest son, Lucern, rushed into the room with Kate on his heels. He was digging through the cooler he held as he moved. Stopping beside Bastien, he handed over an ampoule and syringe, and Bastien removed one hand from Inez to reach for it, but her good arm immediately jerked out of the hold his other hand had on her and plowed him in the face.

Thomas smiled as Bastien flew backward off the bed. That was what he’d wanted to do to him down by the river. It did his heart good to see Inez get the lick in for him.

“Bastien.” Kate rushed around Lucern to kneel at his side and Vincent and Jackie appeared from somewhere, though Thomas wasn’t sure from where. He hadn’t noticed them in the room before this, but suddenly they were at the bedside trying to help Rachel hold Inez down. The combination of nanos and pain was making her strong and even with the three of them, they had trouble holding her in place.

“Give her the damned drugs!” Thomas bellowed, or tried too, his voice didn’t have its normal strength. He really needed more blood.

Bastien’s head suddenly appeared on the other side of the bed and he crawled forward. Ignoring his broken, bleeding nose, he stuck the syringe into the ampoule to draw out the drug. He pulled the needle free once it was full, squeezed it until clear liquid shot out the top, and then injected it straight into Inez’s vein as Vincent held her arm out for him.

They all waited tensely, watching Inez. Her struggles and screams began to ease almost at once, the thrashing becoming restless writhing and the screams dropping to loud moans and then she stopped moving and fell silent.

A communal sigh of relief ran around the room like a wave and then every eye turned to him.

Etienne was the first to speak. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and slapped a bag on his still-protruding fangs before anyone else could speak.

Thomas suspected it was an effort on Etienne’s part to keep him from saying any of the furious thoughts running around inside his head.

“Now,” Vincent said dryly. “Does someone want to tell us who this young woman is and what the hell happened?”

Bastien’s shoulders slumped as he replayed the night’s events.

“You used Thomas’s lifemate as bait?” Lucern asked with shock when Bastien was done. “His lifemate? While she was still mortal?”

Thomas closed his eyes with gratitude at Lucern’s reaction, feeling vindicated in his anger. A lifemate was as precious to an immortal as life itself. Mortals could divorce and remarry and go through mate after mate if they wished, but for an immortal, a lifemate was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, or twice if they were lucky. And with an immortal that was a very long lifetime.

“Jesus, Bastien. What were you thinking?” Lucern scrubbed one hand through his hair with disgust and said, “I’d have killed you for even considering something like that if it had been Kate. And I know damned right well that you never would have risked Terri like that.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Bastien admitted unhappily. “I was just so worried about, Mother…and I thought I could keep Inez safe. I thought I’d considered every contingency.”

“We thought we’d considered every contingency,” Etienne insisted grimly, determined not to let Bastien take the flack on his own.

Lucern’s eyes skated to Etienne, and then away dismissively and Thomas saw the way Etienne’s hands balled into fists. It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn’t the only one the two older Argeneau brothers tended to dismiss as an immature young pup. Some of his anger with Etienne suddenly eased, replaced by sympathy. They were both in the same boat, he thought, and then glanced toward his older cousin as Lucern moved up the small aisle between the beds.

The man’s gaze moved silently over the now quiet Inez, taking in her injuries with grim eyes before turning to Thomas.

“How angry are you?” he asked.

Thomas clenched his teeth as the question brought his rage stirring back to life and suddenly the bag in his mouth exploded, splashing the red liquid everywhere.

“I guess that answers that question,” Lucern said dryly, wiping blood off of his face.

Terri hurried out of the room for more towels.

Ripping the burst bag from his teeth, Thomas tried to sit up again, this time eager to get his hands around Bastien’s throat as fury poured through him.

“Stay put, tiger,” Lucern said, pushing him back on the bed. “You aren’t strong enough to take on Bastien yet, you need more blood. Besides, Mother would never forgive you if you killed him.”

Etienne immediately slapped a fresh bag of blood to his teeth as Thomas fell back on the bed. Terri returned then with a stack of towels and Etienne and Lucern both took one each to wipe themselves down.

“I’d better change,” Etienne muttered, getting to his feet and moving away.

The moment he did, Lucern sat on the side of the bed next to Thomas. “You have to cut him some slack, Thomas. Bastien is a planner. It’s an old habit from running the company so long. He thinks of things in bottom line terms. I have no doubt he considered the options, weighed the risks, and thought he had everything covered. I don’t think he’d have gone ahead with this plan if he’d thought there was any real risk to your lifemate.” He allowed a moment of silence pass to let him think about that and then added, “And there wouldn’t have been if everyone hadn’t let down their guard.

“That’s always the most dangerous point,” he continued with a grimace. “I can’t tell you how many excellent warriors I’ve seen die after a battle is over. They let down their guard and relaxed and then pow, one of the enemy they thought was more seriously injured than they were suddenly reared up and killed them.”

Thomas just stared at him, eyes wide above the bag of blood in his mouth. Lucern wasn’t much of a talker. In fact, this was the first time he’d heard him string more than a couple of words together. The immortal was over six hundred years old. He’d been a warrior, wielding a broadsword when he was younger, and still had the physical build needed to do it. He was also a writer, tapping out reams of words on paper, but when it came to talking it sometimes seemed as if he’d used up all his words in his books and had nothing else to say.

Lucern glanced to Bastien, considered him briefly, and then shook his head and glanced back to Thomas. “Bastien is suffering the guilt for it now. When he apologizes, let it go. We’re all family and even immortals make mistakes.”

Thomas hesitated, his gaze sliding to the next bed. Rachel and Bastien were hovering over Inez, Rachel cutting away her clothes and binding the wounds that were slowly closing, while Bastien held Inez slightly elevated with one hand under her neck and shoulders as he tried to feed her. Inez had no teeth yet and they had no IV to take care of the matter, so he was reduced to pouring blood down her throat straight from the bag.

Lucern patted his shoulder and Thomas glanced back to see that Etienne had returned and Lucern was getting to his feet.

“Kate and I are going to get out of the way. We’ll be below if you need us. Just give a shout.”

Thomas watched him go, noting that Kate, Jackie, and Vincent followed, leaving the other two couples to handle matters.

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” Etienne said solemnly, drawing his attention again. “We really didn’t think Inez was in any real danger. We thought we could keep her safe, otherwise we never would have suggested it.”

Thomas hesitated, waiting for the familiar anger to rear up inside him, but this time it didn’t. He just felt tired. Nodding wearily, he closed his eyes and waited for the bag of blood in his mouth to empty.

Thomas consumed five bags of blood before Etienne and Terri reluctantly let him get up. He immediately moved to hover behind Rachel, his eyes anxious as he peered over Inez.

“That’s all I can do for now,” Rachel said, drawing the blankets up to Inez’s neck as she sat up straight on the side of the bed. “I’ve set her leg, bound her wounds…All we can do now is keep feeding her blood. It’s up to the nanos to repair her.”

They were all silent, peering down at Inez’s pale face. She was resting quietly for now, but no one was foolish enough to think she would stay that way. There would come a stage when the drugs wouldn’t be able to touch the pain and her mind would be filled with horrible images of fire, death, and blood. She would imagine she was burning up, or being rent apart. It was impossible to prevent that part of the turn.

“You look pale.”

Thomas glanced at Etienne as he spoke, noting that he was peering at his wife with concern.

Rachel smiled faintly and leaned into his shoulder. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

“There’s blood in the refrigerator downstairs, and lots of food too,” Bastien said. “Why don’t the two of you go grab a couple bags and make yourselves something to eat.”

Etienne and Rachel exchanged a glance and then moved away from the bed. “Call us if you need us.”

Bastien then turned to Terri. “You should go too, Terri. You’re pale as well.”

Terri glanced toward the departing couple with yearning, but then glanced back, her gaze skittering anxiously between Thomas and Bastien before she shook her head and said, “I’ll stay with you.”

Knowing she was afraid to leave the two of them alone for fear that he would attack Bastien the moment they were gone, Thomas opened his mouth to tell her it was all right, she should go, but Etienne spoke, cutting him off.

“We’ll bring up something for all three of you,” his cousin said as he ushered Rachel out the door.

Shrugging, Thomas moved to sit on the side of the bed and take Inez’s hand in his.

“You should go take a shower and then catch some sleep.”

Thomas glanced up at Bastien’s quiet words. Terri was asleep on the twin bed he’d been lying on earlier, and had been for hours. Other than that, the two men were alone; one on either side of the bed Inez was in.

Shrugging, Thomas turned his gaze back to Inez. “You go ahead. I want to stay with Inez in case she wakes up.”

It was well past sunset of the second night since Inez had been injured and then turned. It hadn’t been an easy process for any of them. While the drugs definitely helped, there were times when they didn’t seem to even touch the pain she was suffering and it had taken several of them to keep her in the bed. Rachel and Etienne had returned several times through that night and day as Inez turned, helping Thomas, Bastien, and Terri try to keep Inez still so she wouldn’t reopen her healing injuries as she’d battled the pain as well as the demons filling her hallucinations, a side-effect of the turn.

Her screams had been the worst, though. Every single one had torn at Thomas’s heart like a claw, ripping deep. But that had stopped hours ago and she had rested peacefully and deeply since then.

When Bastien had suggested Terri get some sleep earlier, she’d hesitated, and then had lain down on the opposite twin bed, telling them to just shake her awake if they needed her before falling into a deep, exhausted sleep. Thomas and Bastien had been alone since then, both of them working together to feed her the occasional bag of blood or give her another shot when she began to show signs of pain.

“It might upset her if she wakes up to find you covered in blood as you are,” Bastien pointed out.

Thomas glanced down at himself and frowned. Neither of them had changed since returning to the townhouse and both now wore clothes that were wrinkled and blood stained. However, Thomas was pretty much soaked in a combination of Inez’s blood and the two bags he’d spilled. It was dry now, crusty and unpleasant, and it would definitely upset Inez if she woke up to see him like that, he supposed.

He nodded, but hesitated, his gaze slipping back to Inez again.

“I’ll stay with her,” Bastien assured him solemnly.

“Thank you,” Thomas murmured automatically as he released the hand he’d been holding and got to his feet.

“It’s the least I can do,” Bastien said with a sigh and then met his eyes. “I’m sorry Thomas. I never should have put her in danger like that. I never would have had I realized this would happen.”

“It’s all right, Bastien, I know you wouldn’t have,” Thomas interrupted, waving away the apology. Lucern’s earlier words flowing through his head, he added, “Besides, you’re family and even immortals make mistakes.”

“Thank you,” Bastien said quietly.

Thomas shrugged and then added in hard tones, “However, I wouldn’t have been so forgiving if she’d died.”

“I know,” Bastien said solemnly. “I would have lost you along with her.”

Thomas didn’t bother to deny it and simply turned away. He never would have forgiven either Bastien or Etienne if he’d lost Inez because of them. Never.

Grabbing his knapsack, he slipped from the room and crossed the hall into the bathroom to take a quick shower and pull on clean, or at least, mostly clean clothes. Thomas had run out of fresh clothes, but at least the ones he pulled on weren’t covered with blood.

Returning to the bedroom, he nearly crashed into Etienne as the other man was leaving.

“The rest of us are going to go search York for any sign of Mother or the immortal.”

“Rachel’s the only one who saw him,” Thomas pointed out with a frown.

“Yeah, but Terri did that sketch as per her description and Rachel says it’s dead on. So each couple is going to take a third of the city center and go street by street.”

Thomas nodded wearily. He’d forgotten all about the picture Terri had sketched in the bedroom between Inez’s fits. Rachel had hovered, fussing over this and that, saying, “The nose was a little bigger…the eyes more squinty…the hair shorter….” until she thought Terri had it just right.

“Bastien and Terri are staying with you and Inez,” Etienne continued, slipping around him to the stairs. “But call my cell if you need us.”

Thomas watched him go, and then continued into the room.

Terri was still asleep, but Bastien glanced up as he reentered. The man had bags under his eyes from exhaustion, a very rare thing indeed with their constitution.

“You should sleep. You’re exhausted,” Thomas said as he dropped his bag, and moved back to sit on the side of the bed.

Bastien hesitated and then glanced down at Inez, before saying. “If we give her another bag of blood, I think it would be safe for both of us to catch some sleep.”

Thomas glanced at Inez. He didn’t want to sleep, but knew Bastien wouldn’t if he didn’t at least pretend he intended to, so he nodded.

Much to everyone’s relief, Inez’s teeth had come on around mid-afternoon. Aside from being a sign that she’d survived the worst of it and was nearing the end of her turning, it made feeding her easier and much less messy. Bastien bent to retrieve a bag of blood from the now almost depleted cooler, then took out another and offered it to Thomas. When he shook his head, Bastien hesitated and then popped it to his own teeth as Thomas grabbed one of the dry but blood-soaked towels and waved it back and forth under Inez’s nose. Her teeth protruded at once and he popped the bag to her fangs with little effort.

It didn’t take long for either bag to empty, and then Thomas crawled onto the bed next to her. He lay down on his side, leaving some room between them to keep from disturbing her in the small twin bed.

The moment he did, Bastien lay down and cuddled up to Terri in the next bed. His breathing soon became deep and even, telling Thomas that he’d fallen asleep.

Despite his intention not to sleep, Thomas soon found his own eyes drooping closed as he too drifted into sleep.

Seventeen

Inez woke and shot up into a sitting position, fear making her heart pound in a rapid tattoo. It took her a moment to blink away the remnants of the nightmare that had chased her from sleep and realize she was in one of the twin beds in the bedroom at the townhouse.

Sucking in a deep breath of relief as the fear began to slip away, Inez peered around the room, her eyes widening at the chaos evident. Bloody clothes and towels lay strewn everywhere, and an incredible amount of empty blood bags lay in a corner, tossed there with little care.

Her gaze slid to the man in bed beside her. Thomas. He was wearing different clothes than she recalled from the night they’d laid their trap and was asleep on his side, perched on the very edge of the twin bed. She saw his face wrinkle with irritation in sleep as her movement allowed a circle of light to splash over his exhausted face and the sight made her smile.

Inez turned her head toward the bedside lamp between the beds with some vague idea of turning it off so it wouldn’t wake him, but her eyes stopped and widened at the sight of Bastien Argeneau and Terri on the second twin bed in the room. She was under the covers, but he was on top. Unlike Thomas, Bastien still wore the same clothes he’d had on the night of the trap. They were now wrinkled and crusted with dried blood. Like Thomas, his face was exhausted and almost gray with it.

Reaching for the lamp, she switched it off, then lay back in bed. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to get back to sleep. She wasn’t tired, but she was hungry, and suffering mild hunger pangs with it, which made her wonder how long she’d been out of it. Long enough that Thomas and the others had gone through a lot of blood, she guessed, recalling the pile of empty blood bags in the corner.

And the bloody towels. She frowned and began to carefully move various body parts one at a time to see where she was hurt, but everything seemed fine. Other than the hunger pangs, she wasn’t suffering pain anywhere, yet she distinctly recalled jamming her leg back between the immortal’s legs as he raced down the street, and then the terrible wrenching pain. She seemed to recall thinking it had been broken, but now thought it must have just been dislocated or something, because it seemed fine and hadn’t hurt when she’d moved it.

Everything after that was a blur, except for an explosion of pain as her head had slammed into concrete. That would have bled copiously she supposed. Head wounds always bled badly. Her head felt fine now too, though. It was only her stomach bothering her.

Inez slid her legs to the side and eased up into a sitting position, her movements slow and steady to prevent waking Thomas.

She sat still on the side of the bed for a moment, waiting to see if she would be suddenly struck by dizziness or pain. When neither happened, she got carefully to her feet, surprised to find her legs a bit shaky. They held her up, though, and worked well enough, she found, as she stepped away from the bed. Inez had nearly reached the door, guided by the crack of light seeping under it, when she realized she was buck naked.

Grimacing, she tried to think where her suitcase would be in relation to the door. Inez doubted Rachel and Etienne would appreciate her traipsing through the house starkers.

But the longer Inez stood there in the dark, the better she could see, at least enough to make out vague shapes in the room. Supposing the slim line of light creeping under the door was helping, she moved to the suitcase lying open on the floor. Inez intended to put on clothes, but came across the silk robe first and allowed her hunger to convince her to slip it on instead and then stood and moved back to the door again. Her hunger pangs were getting stronger with every passing minute and she was eager to raid the refrigerator.

The house was silent and empty when she descended the stairs and Inez wondered if Rachel and Etienne were still sleeping, but the lights would probably be off if they hadn’t already gotten up. They must have gone out, she thought as she walked up the hall to the kitchen.

The light in the kitchen seemed to be the only one not on in the house. Inez flicked it on as she entered, her feet taking her straight to the refrigerator. She pulled it open and looked over the contents with interest. There was a lot in there, but most of it needed to be cooked and she was too hungry to wait. Spotting some cheese, she picked it up and then grabbed a scotch egg, closed the refrigerator door, and carried the food to the counter. The kettle was half full, so she pushed down the button to start it heating.

Inez then grabbed a plate from the cupboard, opened the plastic wrapping on the Scotch egg and spilled it out. The moment it hit the plate, she set the wrapping down, grabbed the sausage-wrapped egg and took a bite out of it. Inez preferred them warmed up, but they were edible cold and she was too hungry even to take the time to microwave it.

Chewing and swallowing, she turned her attention to the cheese, but it didn’t open as easily as the egg packaging. Scowling, she moved to the end drawer and pulled it open. Inez reached in to retrieve a knife, but paused when a slight breeze brushed against her cheek. She looked up, her heart skittering with alarm when she saw that the back door was cracked open.

Dropping the small paring knife she’d originally reached for, Inez grabbed a large butcher knife instead. She didn’t pull it out of the drawer, but simply clutched it in her fingers as her gaze slid over the edge of the door, noting that the lock was broken. The door had been forced.

A shuffling sound from behind made her swivel slowly, her hand remaining in the drawer, still clutching the butcher knife as she turned to peer toward the archway leading into the hall. Some part of her wasn’t terribly surprised to find the blond, bearded immortal standing there. Her gaze skimmed over his black clothes and overcoat.

“You healed quickly,” he commented, his gaze sliding over her in the pink silk robe. “I was sure the leg was broken.”

“I thought so too,” she admitted, peering down at her legs hidden by the robe. She tugged the robe up slightly, with her free hand, revealing her perfectly healthy lower calf. Inez then turned the leg slightly, using it as an excuse to shift slightly to the side, enough that it hid her hand as she slid it out of the drawer, bringing the butcher knife with it. “I gather it was just dislocated, though.”

His gaze slid back up to her face, one eyebrow raised. “And the head wound?”

“They always bleed a lot. Fortunately, it isn’t troubling me much today,” she said calmly, thinking how bizarre this all felt. She was having a perfectly civil conversation with a man who had repeatedly attacked her. Clearing her throat, Inez asked, “Was it you who controlled me in Amsterdam too?”

He shook his head. “That was someone else.”

She nodded, but frowned. “Why?”

“I’d guess because the boss ordered it,” he said simply.

“But why me?” Inez asked.

“I have no idea why he did it, but my orders were to keep you and Thomas here in York and off Marguerite’s trail…to kill you both if necessary to accomplish it.” He shrugged. “You keep thinking up other places to look.”

Inez nodded slowly. “Marguerite’s alive, then?”

“As far as I know,” he answered.

Inez stared at him silently, waiting, but when he simply stood there, the tension of the passing moments began to get to her and she asked, “So you’re here to kill me?”

He suddenly shifted one side of his long coat, revealing the sword that it had hidden. That and his answering smile made her blood run cold, and her fingers tightened on the knife behind her back.

“Why haven’t you taken control of me?” Inez asked, suddenly eager to draw out the conversation and put off whatever he had planned for her.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was a coward, afraid of a tiny mortal female,” he said, his mocking voice laced with anger. “Uncontrolled and with that butcher knife you’re hiding behind your back, you have a fighting chance…don’t you?”

Inez jerked with surprise and realized while he hadn’t been controlling her, he must have been reading her. Either that or he’d simply been aware of what she was doing when she’d drawn the knife out. So much for the advantage of surprise.

“Are you done with your questions now? Can we get to the killing you part without your whining about cowardly behavior and so on? Or,” he added with malice, “do you need to see the size of my penis to assure yourself I have more than a tootsie roll?”

“Er…no, I’ll take your word on that,” Inez muttered, her gaze slipping around the room, scoping out where everything was and looking for anything that might help her against him.

A soft click sounded behind her and Inez suddenly recalled the electric teakettle she’d set to boil.

“Good. Let’s get to it, then, shall we?”

Inez glanced sharply back at the blond man as he withdrew the sword from his waist.

“That’s a little bit of overkill, isn’t it?” she asked, finally pulling the butcher knife from the drawer and bringing it around to her side. Much to her relief, his eyes moved to the small weapon. Taking advantage of his distraction, she reached back with her right hand to grab the teakettle.

“Perhaps,” he admitted, turning his attention back to his own much larger blade. Holding it up, he turned it this way and that, watching the kitchen light shimmer off of it. “But it’s my lucky sword and I haven’t had much luck with you so far.”

“Maybe it’s your approach,” Inez muttered, her fingers finding the handle of the kettle and her thumb settling on the lever that worked the lid.

“Do you think so?” he asked idly.

And then he was suddenly rushing her. Inez immediately lifted the teakettle and brought it around, her thumb pressing down on the lid as she sent the contents flying over him. She aimed for his face. The boiling liquid poured over one side of his scalp, face, and neck, bringing a startled roar of pain from his throat as he stumbled back.

Inez immediately whirled and made a run for the open back door, but he caught her from behind. Screaming in frustration, Inez twisted in his arms to face him. The moment she did, he lifted her off the ground. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw his mouth open and his fangs glide out. Realizing he meant to bite her, she instinctively stabbed out with the knife, slamming it into the unburned side of his throat.

Blood began to gush out of the wound the moment she pulled the knife free and Inez was winding up for another stab when a funny thing happened. The hunger she’d been suffering, but had managed to ignore since the bearded blond had appeared, suddenly became unignorable and roared to furious life. It became an almost living thing in her body, as if a million bees were buzzing through her veins…and then Inez felt a strange shifting in her upper teeth and something pricked her tongue, making her mouth open with surprise.

“Jesus,” the blond breathed. Freezing with her face inches from his, he stared at her mouth with amazement. “They turned you. Why didn’t I pick up on that in your thoughts?”

Inez simply stared at him, her mind gone blank. She’d had no idea. She didn’t recall being turned. The last thing she recalled was falling and bits and pieces of nightmares.

“You didn’t know,” he said with a disbelieving laugh.

It was the laugh that knocked her out of her shock. It rubbed her on the raw. Inez hated to be laughed at. She swung the knife again, ramming it once more into his throat.

The hands holding her tightened briefly in shock, and then he bellowed and threw her furiously away from him, hurling her across the kitchen. Inez slammed into the kitchen counter at the end of the room with such force she heard an ominous snapping sound from her back and then slid to the floor and simply lay there, unable to move. Her panicked mind was screaming that he’d broken her back and she was paralyzed, but Inez was having trouble believing it. She was supposed to be an immortal now. She had fangs. Surely you couldn’t break an immortal’s back?

Her eyes shifted to the bearded blond. He was still standing at the other end of the room, breathing heavily and glaring at her as he held one hand to the wounds on his neck. He stood like that for a moment and then withdrew his hand, and she noted that the bleeding had stopped. Inez was sure she’d hit the jugular vein, blood should be gushing from the knife wounds on his neck, but apparently he was already healing. Not that the gashes in his neck looked any smaller to her, but he’d healed enough that the bleeding had stopped. It made her wonder if her back would heal.

It might, Inez decided, but not quick enough to save her. The bearded blond had given up his position at the other end of the room and was now striding toward her. He looked pretty pissed, and she recalled his telling her that night he’d taken her from the café that he intended to kill her slowly and enjoy doing it. Inez suspected she was in for it now and he would doubly enjoy it.

The bearded man halted in front of her, dropped to his haunches and reached out, but he never laid another finger on her. As he lowered himself, Inez spotted Thomas behind him, his eyes glowing with silver fury. The sight of his head, neck, and then upper chest appearing behind the man as he dropped was as beautiful as the sun after a long night. Inez could have wept with relief as the immortal was suddenly caught by the back of the neck and jerked away. In fact, her eyes did fill with tears, obscuring her vision, and she couldn’t raise a hand to wipe them away. She watched through blurred eyes as the two men struggled, blinking her eyes furiously in an effort to clear her vision, but the tears just kept coming.

When silence suddenly fell, Inez was in a panic, ears straining, desperate to know Thomas was all right, but it wasn’t until he said her name that she even knew he was still alive. Then he was suddenly there, scooping her up into his arms.

“Inez?” he said with alarm when she lay limp in his hold.

“I think he broke my back,” Inez admitted on a sigh. “I can’t move.”

“It’s all right,” Thomas whispered, adjusting her in his arms so that her head lay against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and then started across the kitchen, assuring her, “It’ll heal.”

“You turned me,” Inez whispered into his chest.

“Yes.” His voice sounded uncertain. “You said yes to it. Did you not want—?”

“No, that’s fine,” she said quickly. “I just didn’t realize—”

“Thomas? What’s happened?”

Inez recognized Bastien’s voice, but didn’t try to lift her head to look around.

“I left you a gift in the kitchen,” Thomas announced, continuing up the hall toward him.

“A gift?” Bastien asked with bewilderment.

“Yes,” Thomas said as he carried Inez past him and then added, “I suggest you get in there and figure out some way to restrain him before he heals if you want to question him about Aunt Marguerite.”

Bastien didn’t bother to ask further questions, Inez heard his footsteps rush away up the hall and then Thomas was carrying her upstairs.

“Thomas.” Terri’s worried voice greeted them at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on? I thought I heard a scream and Bastien went to check and—What is Inez doing up? Should she be up yet?” she asked fretfully. “Bastien wouldn’t let me out of bed for a week after he turned me.”

Inez couldn’t help noticing those words made Thomas chuckle for some reason. Once the rumbling in his chest died, he asked, “Is there any blood left in the cooler, Terri?”

“A bag or two, I think,” Terri answered. “Do you want me to get more from downstairs?”

“Yes, please,” Thomas murmured as he laid Inez on the bed.

Terri hurried from the room as Thomas moved to the cooler and fetched the few bags left in it. When he returned to the bed, Inez glanced at the bags and just the sight of the blood made that strange shifting take place in her mouth. She opened her mouth to ask one of the million or so questions suddenly buzzing in her head about being an immortal and found a bag popped to her new fangs.

The bedroom was empty when Inez woke up. For one moment, she lay still in bed, afraid to try to move for fear she might still be paralyzed, but then she set her teeth and tried to raise her hand, her breath rushing out in a relieved sigh when she was able to do so. Thomas had assured her that she would be healed by the time they woke at sunset, but she’d feared something going wrong and finding herself paralyzed and forced to live that way for centuries. It was silly, Inez knew, but fears were rarely rational.

A shout from somewhere on the main floor of the townhouse made her stiffen and she listened tensely for a moment, but when several excited voices followed along with a couple of more soothing ones, Inez decided everything was probably all right. She’d feared for a moment that Blondie had gotten free and hurt someone, but judging by the tone of the muffled conversation she was now hearing, it didn’t seem likely.

Sitting up, she glanced around and then leaned to the side to snatch up her robe from the floor. Inez slipped it on before letting the sheets and blankets drop away, afraid that someone might enter before she was properly covered. The townhouse was getting quite crowded with everyone here. Tying the sash of the robe, she got out of bed and moved across the room to her suitcase, but paused as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the closet door.

Eyes locked on the image peering back at her, Inez bypassed the suitcase to stand before the mirror. She hesitated briefly, and then undid the sash of the robe and opened it to peer at herself, curious to see what changes the turn had wrought.

Much to Inez’s disappointment, her body didn’t seem much different. She hadn’t sprouted up six inches, and her breasts were still far too generous in her eyes. Still, she supposed she was a little firmer everywhere, her breasts a little higher, and her skin…Inez leaned closer to the mirror, running her fingers over one cheek with awe. Her skin was now flawless, as perfect as a baby’s, and her eyes were now a beautiful golden brown, she saw, but her hair was still a wild halo of curls around her head.

Staring at herself, Inez marveled over the fact that after all the years of trying to diet and exercise her curves away she hadn’t been far from her peak physical state after all.

The sound of the door opening made her jump guiltily. She quickly closed the robe and turned to see Thomas entering the room. The smile that started to curve her lips faltered when she saw the grim expression on his face.

“Oh,” Thomas said when he spotted her by the mirror “you’re up.”

“Yes,” Inez murmured, and then asked with concern. “What was all the excitement downstairs about? Blondie didn’t have bad news when Bastien questioned him, did he? Marguerite is all right?”

“Blondie—as you so kindly call him—didn’t say a word. He might have if we’d had more time, but somehow the European council got wind of what was going on and sent someone to collect him. They wanted to deal with him themselves. Our only hope was that they’d be able to get something out of him, but”—Thomas hesitated and then admitted grimly—“we got news a couple hours later that he and his escort were attacked and Blondie lost his head. It would seem someone didn’t want him to talk.”

Inez frowned over this news and asked, “Is the escort all right?”

“He’ll survive but he was badly wounded.”

Inez nodded silently and then said, “He said last night that his job was to keep us in York and off Marguerite’s trail. He went after me because I kept coming up with ideas that would have led us out of York.” She frowned and muttered, “I should have pushed for more information.”

“Inez, the man was trying to kill you,” he pointed out quietly. “It wasn’t the ideal situation for gaining information. Besides, it doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“It doesn’t?” she asked with surprise.

“Nope,” Thomas said, some of the unhappiness on his face easing as he added, “Aunt Martine left a message for Bastien at his office, so he called her and—You have no idea who Aunt Martine is, do you?” he interrupted himself wryly as she stared at him blankly.

Inez shook her head.

“Right, well, she’s Jean Claude’s sister. She was—or still is I guess—Aunt Marguerite’s sister-in-law. She lives here in York actually, but was out of town until a couple days ago. Bastien had called her, but she didn’t get the message until today. Anyway, she got a call from Aunt Marguerite.”

“She did?” Inez asked, eyes widening.

Thomas nodded with a grin. “And she had the number of where Marguerite called from. Bastien, Lucern, Vincent, and Uncle Lucian have gone to Martine’s to get the number and then plan to head straight to where she is.”

“Uncle Lucian?” Inez asked with confusion.

“Jean Claude’s twin brother,” he explained. “He arrived with his lifemate Leigh while you were sleeping.”

“Oh,” Inez murmured and then asked, “Why go over there? Why didn’t Bastien just call her to get the number?”

Thomas grinned. “He gave some lame excuse to Terri that she wouldn’t even repeat, but I think the truth is he probably did call. I think the guys just wanted to look into it themselves without the women along. Which is why everyone is upset,” he continued, “Etienne and the women are up in arms at being left out at this point.”

Inez bit her lip as she considered all he’d said and what Blondie had said last night.

“You’re not looking relieved or happy to hear that Aunt Marguerite is fine,” Thomas pointed out, his own happiness slipping away.

“Is she?” Inez asked.

He stared at her blankly.

“Why hasn’t she called any of her children?” Inez asked.

Thomas smiled wryly and said, “It’s possible she has. Most of them are here right now, though, and wouldn’t get her call.”

“Bastien would have,” she pointed out quietly. “He got Martine’s message.”

“Well…” He frowned, but then shrugged and said, “She called Martine. She has to be all right.”

“Thomas,” Inez hesitated, reluctant to be the bearer of bad tidings, but then sighed and continued, “Blondie was working for someone who was willing to kill to keep us from finding her and possibly interfering in their plans.”

“Yes, I know. He’s dead, though,” Thomas pointed out. “He can’t hurt her.”

But the person he worked for isn’t, Inez thought unhappily, but hesitated to say as much to Thomas. He was obviously relieved and happy to believe his aunt was all right, and she was reluctant to make him worry when everything might really work out all right.

“Inez?”

Letting her own worries on the matter drop for the moment, she met his gaze, noting that the grim expression was back and asked uncertainly, “Yes?”

“Terri tells me that in the coffee shop you were thinking that maybe we should put off the turning until after we found Marguerite,” he announced abruptly. “She’s worried that you might be upset about my turning you as I did.”

Inez felt her eyebrows rise. It seemed like a long time ago, but she did recall having the thought. It had been a brief one brought on by her fear of the pain involved. Obviously she’d been broadcasting her thoughts at the time, because Terri claimed she couldn’t read minds. And while she’d forgotten all about it after everything that had happened, Terri hadn’t, and had found the thought worrisome, passing on that worry to Thomas.

“Inez, I’m sorry,” Thomas said quietly, his expression earnest. “I had no choice. You were dying, and besides you agreed to the turn the night before. Didn’t you?” He frowned and muttered, “Of course, it was right after you’d nearly drowned and you might not have really understood what was going on at the time. Do you even love me? You nodded to that too, but…”

He raised his head and said solemnly, “I’m sorry if you’re upset about being turned, but I’m not sorry for doing it. Because whether you love me or not, Inez, I love you. You’re strong, and brilliant and sweet and have a strength I’ve never seen in other women. This last week you’ve done whatever was required of you to help find Marguerite without complaint or allowing fear to stop you, even going so far as being the bait in the trap.” He scowled and then admitted, “Though I have to say I thought that was rather foolish. I was really pissed at you for putting your life at risk like that.”

“It sounds to me like you still are,” she said quietly.

“I love you, Inez. It was hard for me to see you in such a vulnerable position,” Thomas said, his expression solemn, and then rushed on, “Anyway, I’m not sorry I turned you. Even if you choose not to be with me, I’ll not regret it. And I know we haven’t known each other long, and you probably want time to get to know me better. I’m willing to give you that time. I—”

“Thomas,” Inez interrupted, and he fell silent at once. “In ten hours I’ll have known you one week.”

“Well, really, we met months ago,” Thomas said quickly.

She smiled faintly, but continued. “I’m usually slow and cautious in making decisions.”

“I’m sure you’ve had to make snap judgments at work in critical situations.”

“Our circumstances since we’ve met haven’t been ideal, what with the worry about Marguerite, the need to find her, the attacks—”

“Inez,” he interrupted worriedly.

“There has been a lot of pressure and stress. In effect, we’ve been living in a pressure cooker since your arrival.”

“Yes, but—”

“In this week I’ve seen you worried, furiously angry, tired—”

“Inez,” Thomas tried again with alarm.

“And despite all that,” she continued, “you’ve made me laugh, and shown me more joy this last week than I’ve experienced probably in my whole life. You’ve been encouraging, and supportive, loving and caring, considerate and sweet to me.”

“Well, except for that alley in Amsterdam,” he pointed out guiltily. “And I’m really sorry about attacking you. I never would have if it hadn’t been for the—”

“Thomas,” Inez interrupted with exasperation. “I’m trying to tell you I love you.”

“You do?” he asked, a smile spreading halfway across his face. “But then why did you tell Terri that you wanted to delay the turn?”

“It wasn’t you. It was because of the pain involved,” she said with a grimace and then admitted, “I don’t like pain, Thomas. I mean I’m practically phobic about it. My whole life, I’ve avoided any situation that might involve pain. My dentist even has to gas me to fill a cavity.” Inez shrugged unhappily. “I probably would have delayed and put it off as long as I possibly could if you hadn’t had to change me to save my life. In truth, Blondie probably did us both a favor by precipitating the events that forced you to turn me.”

“Precipitating the events?” he quoted, stepping closer to slip his arms around her waist and nuzzle her neck as he murmured, “God, I love it when you use big words.”

Inez chuckled, her own arms slipping around his shoulders, as she reminded him, “Last time you said you liked it when I talk dirty.”

“I do,” Thomas assured her and scooped her into his arms, adding, “I also like it when you yell at me in Portuguese. I guess I just like to hear you talk.”

Inez smiled wryly as he carried her to the bed. “That would be a good thing since you’re going to be hearing me talk to you for a very long time.”

“You say it like it’s a threat,” Thomas said with amusement as he set her on her feet beside the bed. “Trust me, it isn’t. I look forward to spending the next countless centuries with your voice filling the silence.”

“You’re so sweet,” Inez whispered, running one hand down his cheek, but glanced to the door as the muffled sound of the bathroom door closing reached them. “We should go down to join the others.”

“No, we shouldn’t. The turning is traumatic. Your body has been put through a lot and you need your rest,” he assured her solemnly, his fingers beginning to work busily at the tie of the robe.

“Rest, huh?” Inez asked dryly as he finally got the knot undone and began to draw the robe open.

“Oh, yes.” Thomas slid the robe off her shoulders and then bent to press a kiss to one breast as his hand closed over the other. His lips brushed against the quickly blooming nipple as he said, “Didn’t you hear Terri last night? Bastien wouldn’t let her out of bed for a week after her turn. There was a very good reason for that.”

“I’m sure there was,” she said, but his mouth had closed over her nipple, drawing on it lightly and the words came out a bit breathlessly rather than with the cynical tinge she’d intended.

Letting the nipple slip from his lips, Thomas straightened and kissed her again, his hands sliding over her body before he broke the kiss and said, “I, of course, shall keep you company to ensure you don’t encounter any unforeseen difficulties.”

“How considerate,” Inez gasped as he caught her by the behind and lifted her to press her against the hardness suddenly straining his jeans.

“Marguerite raised me right,” he assured her, bearing her down to the bed.

Her soft chuckle was muffled as his mouth closed over hers.

An Excerpt from Hungry For You

LYNSAY SANDS

HUNGRY FOR YOU

AN ARGENEAU NOVEL

One

Cale was just raising his hand to knock at the door when it swung open. A tall fellow with short dark hair and a phone pressed to his ear peered out at him.

“Cale Valens?”

“Yes,” Cale answered, knowing the guards at the front gate had called up to the house warning of his arrival.

“Come on in.” The fellow stepped back to make way, pushing a button to end his call before offering a hand to Cale. “Justin Bricker. Most people call me Bricker.”

Cale accepted the hand, shaking it politely as he stomped his feet on the welcome mat a couple of times to remove the worst of the snow on his boots. He then stepped inside. “I was told I should speak to Garrett Mortimer.”

“Yeah, I know. The boys at the gate called the house and said as much, but Mortimer’s down at the garage with Sam.” Bricker shut the door and then turned to face him, waving the phone vaguely. “I was just calling down there to tell him you were here, but there’s no answer. Hopefully that means they’re on their way to the house.”

“Hopefully?” Cale removed his brown leather winter coat.

“Yeah, well, they may have been getting busy in one of the cells,” Bricker explained wryly as he took the coat and quickly hung it in a closet beside the door. “They’ve only been life mates for eight or nine months and are still pretty into each other.” He closed the closet door, swung back to Cale, and then headed up the hall toward the back of the house. “Come on. I’ll get you a bag of blood while we wait.”

Cale followed, recalling what his uncle Lucian had said about these men. Mortimer and Bricker used to be partners, enforcers hunting rogues vampires, but now they ran the enforcer house together. Bricker was the younger man and backed up Mortimer, who was now in charge of all the rest of the enforcers.

“One bag or two?” Bricker asked, leading him into a large, cupboard-lined kitchen with an island in the middle.

“One is fine,” Cale murmured.

The younger immortal immediately opened a refrigerator to reveal a large amount of bagged blood stacked up alongside various mortal foodstuffs. The sight was a bit startling. Cale hadn’t eaten mortal food in more than a millennium and only ever had blood in his own refrigerator. The thought crossed his mind to wonder if it was really hygienic to have raw meat and vegetables so close to the blood.

“O positive all right?” Bricker asked, sorting through the bags in the fridge.

“Fine.” Hygienic or not, he was hungry.

“Here you go.”

Cale accepted the bag Bricker held out with a murmured thanks, waited the few seconds it took for his canines to descend, and then quickly popped the clear bag of crimson liquid to his fangs.

“Grab a seat,” Bricker urged, using his foot to hook one of the wooden barstools tucked under the island and dragging it out for himself. He slapped a bag of blood to his own teeth as he sat on the stool.

Cale pulled a second stool out, but had barely settled on the high seat when the soft shush of sliding glass doors opening and closing sounded from the next room. He followed Bricker’s glance expectantly to the open door across from them. It led into what was obviously a dining room. The end of a dark oak table was visible, as well as an end chair, but the door and whoever had entered were out of sight. However, their voices reached the two of them easily, and Cale found himself unintentionally eavesdropping on what he soon realized was a private conversation.

“Are you sure you’re ready, love?” a man asked in solemn tones.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure,” a woman answered, although she didn’t sound all that certain in Cale’s opinion. He wondered who she was and what she was claiming to be ready for.

Apparently the male speaker had noted the uncertainty as well. “Are you, Sam? It’s been eight months and you—”

“I know,” the woman interrupted. “And I’m sorry I’ve dragged my feet about it as I have. It wasn’t because I don’t love you, Mortimer. I do, but—”

“But you didn’t want to leave your sisters,” the man said with apparent understanding.

Cale felt his eyebrows rise as he recognized the names. Mortimer was who he was here to see, but so was Sam. She apparently had a sister named Alex, and Aunt Marguerite had a “feeling” this Alex might be the woman he’d waited for his whole life. Cale wasn’t holding out much hope that Marguerite was right. As old as he was, he’d pretty much given up hope on ever finding a life mate. He’d pretty much resigned himself to being eternally single. But he also hadn’t wanted to offend the woman, so had agreed to come meet this Alex.

Curious now to see the couple who were speaking, Cale shifted slightly on his stool, leaning to the side, but it was no good. They must have stopped at the door they’d just entered. They also obviously thought they were having a private conversation, and he glanced to Bricker, expecting him to make some noise to alert them to the fact they weren’t alone, but the younger immortal almost seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for what they might say next.

Cale found himself frowning around the bag in his mouth and was about to scrape his stool back to warn the couple, but the woman’s next words made him pause.

“It wasn’t because of Jo and Alex.”

Cale stilled curiously, hoping to hear more about this Alex.

“That was just an excuse, Mortimer. One I even had myself half convinced of,” the woman admitted on an apologetic sigh. “But Jo said something to me after she met Nicholas that made me realize it wasn’t the real reason.”

“What was that?” Mortimer asked quietly.

“She pointed out that, after you turn me, I would still have ten years to try to find them life mates. She said I was just afraid, and I think—no, I know now she was right.”

“Afraid of what, Sam?” Mortimer asked with quiet concern. “The pain of turning?”

“No . . . . . . Although that’s scary on its own,” she admitted on a wry laugh. Her voice was more serious when she added, “But really I was afraid that you would wake up one day and realize . . . . . . well, that I’m just me,” she finished helplessly.

“I don’t understand. I know who you are, Sam. What—?”

“I know, but—This is silly, but, while I’m smart, and hardworking, and basically nice, I’m not . . .” . . . Sam’s voice was slightly embarrassed as she said, “Well, I’m just not some sexy, gorgeous vamp type of gal who can hold the attention of a guy like you for eternity.”

“Honey, you’re beautiful. I—”

“I look like Olive Oyl, Mortimer.” The words burst into the air on a breath of exasperation, as if she thought that should be obvious.

Cale tore the now-empty bag from his mouth and glanced to Bricker with confusion, his voice a bare whisper as he asked, “Olive Oyl?”

Bricker removed his own bag and explained in a hushed tone, “Popeye’s girlfriend.” When Cale continued to stare at him blankly, he rolled his eyes. “She’s a cartoon character; dark hair, huge eyes, and spindly as a stick figure. Sam is—”

“Honey, I have eyes. I know you look like Olive Oyl.”

Bricker stopped his explanation on a low curse and squeezed his eyes closed briefly. He then turned his head back toward the door, muttering with disgust, “You old guys are so bloody smooth. Honestly.”

Cale would have liked to argue the point, but really, even he—who hadn’t bothered with women in what seemed like forever—knew Mortimer’s words had been the wrong thing to say. Obviously, Mortimer realized it too because he began to babble, “I mean, you’re beautiful to me. I love your smile and the way your eyes twinkle when you’re amused or teasing and—”

“But I still look like Olive Oyl,” Sam said in tones that made it obvious she wasn’t impressed with the man’s efforts to save the situation.

“Not really.” There was a distinct lack of conviction in Mortimer’s voice, but it was stronger when he added, “Look, honey, the point is, I don’t see you through rose-colored glasses. My love isn’t based on some shallow fantasy image of you, and I’m not going to suddenly wake up one day and notice you have knobby knees.”

“Knobby knees?” she cried.

“I—No,” he assured her quickly, sounding a bit panicked now. “No, of course they aren’t knobby. I just mean I know exactly how you look. I do see you, and you’re what I want, not some silly fantasy like Jessica Rabbit was.”

“Jessica Rabbit?” Sam echoed with disbelief. “You had fantasies about Jessica Rabbit? A cartoon rabbit?”

Cale’s eyebrows rose at that. He’d been alive a long time and had fantasized about a lot of things, but never a cartoon rabbit.

“Well not as a rabbit,” Mortimer muttered, sounding a bit chagrined. “And not as a cartoon character. I wasn’t really—I mean, I didn’t want to hook up with her or anything. She was just a representation of the type of woman I thought I might end up with.”

“Voluptuous and sexy,” Sam suggested.

“Exactly,” Mortimer said, sounding relieved.

Cale didn’t need Bricker’s groan to tell him that was possibly the stupidest thing the man could say. Dark hair, huge eyes, and a stick figure didn’t suggest voluptuous and sexy to him.

“Mortimer,” Sam said, her voice hard, “I’m neither voluptuous nor sexy. If that’s what you want, why spend eternity with me?”

“Honey, you are sexy. You’re smart, and brains are really sexy as hell.”

“Right,” Sam snapped, obviously not buying that line.

“Gad!” Bricker barked.

When the younger immortal leapt off his stool and hurried toward the dining-room door, Cale followed. He entered the room on the other man’s heels, his eyes moving with interest over the couple peering toward them with surprise.

Bricker’s description of dark hair, big eyes, and spindly as a stick figure fit Sam, Cale decided. It was probably also the most unattractive way to put it. The woman did have dark hair, but only in that it wasn’t blond. There were tints of light brown and even red in her hair that made for a lush, almost auburn. As for her eyes, Cale had always found large eyes an attractive feature, but they did tend to dominate this woman’s thin face. He suspected they would be lovely if she had a little more meat on her to round her cheeks out a bit. Actually, the woman could have done with a little more rounding everywhere. Her body was on the point of being emaciated. It made him wonder if she didn’t have some ailment of the thyroid or something.

He shifted his gaze to Garrett Mortimer then, but barely got an impression of fair hair and a muscular body before Bricker paused before the couple, and snapped, “For cripes sake, you two! What are you doing? Sam, you love Mortimer, and he loves you, and that’s what he’s trying to tell you, he’s just too stupid to get it out right. But he loves and wants you just the way you are.” He shook his head with disgust. “You should be secure in that knowledge by now for God’s sake. The two of you have been going at it like a pair of bunnies for months, with no sign of letting up.”

“Bricker!” Sam squawked, flushing bright pink as she glanced from the enforcer to Cale with a mortification he suspected wouldn’t be nearly as strong had he, a stranger, not been present.

“Oh, right,” Bricker muttered, glancing back toward him with a sigh that suggested he’d briefly forgotten Cale’s presence. “Sam, Mortimer, this is Cale Valens. Cale, this is Garrett Mortimer and Sam Willan.”

“Cale,” Mortimer said slowly, offering a hand, and then recognition lit his face. “Martine Argeneau’s son.”

“Yes.” Cale shook the offered hand politely and then glanced again to Sam. Much to his surprise, the embarrassment that had been coloring her face a moment ago appeared to have slipped away, replaced with an interest that was sharp and focused.

“Are you single, Mr. Valens?” Sam asked as she moved forward to shake his hand as well.

Cale raised an eyebrow at the blunt question, but glanced to Bricker when he released a short, sharp laugh.

“I see your agreeing to turn hasn’t dampened your determination to see Alex settled with an immortal, Sam,” Bricker commented with amusement, then warned Cale, “Look out. She’ll be holding a dinner party and introducing the two of you by week’s end.”

“Well, why not?” Sam sounded a touch defensive. “You never know. They might suit each other.”

“Honey,” Mortimer said on a sigh, “the chances of Alex’s being a possible life mate for an immortal are pretty slim. It’s amazing that Jo turned out to be Nicholas’s life mate. It’s very rare to find three mortal sisters who suit—”

“Chances shmances,” Sam interrupted firmly. “Besides, there’s no harm in introducing them and seeing if they wouldn’t suit. Alex would make a good immortal. She’s smart, successful, and already works nights. I’ll just call her and see if she can come over for dinner.” Sam started to turn away, but Mortimer caught her arm.

“Why don’t we find out why Cale is here and see if he even has time to stay for dinner first?” he suggested quietly.

Sam hesitated, but then glanced to Cale. “Can you stay for dinner?”

When he nodded, she grinned and then whirled away again.

“Thank you for humoring her,” Mortimer said on a sigh, as they watched her cross the room.

Cale shrugged. “I am not humoring her so much as Marguerite.”

“Marguerite?” Sam stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway and spun around, her already large eyes appearing even larger in her startled face.

Cale’s eyebrows lifted. The woman was almost vibrating with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He was about to read her mind when Mortimer captured his attention by echoing her exclamation in a deeper, though no less startled, voice.

“Marguerite?”

Cale glanced to the man, and then to Bricker, both of whom were now peering at him with intense interest. Grimacing, he admitted, “Marguerite seems to have a bee in her bonnet about me meeting Sam’s sister, Alex.”

“She does?” Sam breathed, taking several steps toward them.

Cale found himself shifting uncomfortably as he admitted, “Yes. She seems to think we might suit each other . . . . . . I expect she’s wrong, but it can’t hurt to humor her and meet your sister to see one way or the other.”

“I’ll have Alex come over at once!” Sam spun away again, this time making it out of the room before anyone spoke.

A snort of amusement brought Cale’s glance to Bricker as the younger immortal asked, “You’re kidding right?”

“About what?” Cale asked, scowling. He didn’t like being laughed at, and the younger man was definitely laughing. He was also eyeing him with a combination of pity and, strangely, what appeared to be envy.

“About not expecting Marguerite to be right,” Bricker explained, and then slapped him on the back. “Buddy, if Marguerite is having one of her ‘feelings’ that you and Alex will suit, you’re as good as mated. It’s what Marguerite does. She finds life mates for anyone and everyone she can. She’s hooked up every single couple who have found each other the last few years.”

“Every Argeneau couple,” Mortimer corrected firmly. “She was not responsible for Sam and me.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Bricker said dryly. “She probably suggested Lucian send us to that job in cottage country in the hopes that one of us would suit one of the sisters.”

Mortimer rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “She couldn’t have known about Sam and her sisters. I don’t think she’s even been to Decker’s cottage.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Bricker asked with amusement.

“Tell me what?” Mortimer asked, suddenly wary.

“Marguerite helped him find the place. Since he was always so busy on the job, she vetted the available properties and suggested the one next to Sam and her sisters was the nicest.”

“Christ,” Mortimer muttered.

Bricker laughed, but Cale simply peered from one man to the other curiously. “Is she really that good at finding mates for immortals?”

“Oh yeah,” Bricker assured him. “So, if Marguerite thinks Alex is the one for you, it’s in the bag. It looks like your bachelor days are done, my friend. Bet you can’t wait.”

Cale found himself frowning at the suggestion, and said a bit stiffly, “Not all of us are lonely and in need of a life mate. Some of us manage to live relatively happy, busy lives without one.”

“Yeah right,” Bricker said with disbelief.

Cale scowled, but didn’t argue the point further. Why bother? It wasn’t really true anyway.

“You have to be kidding me.” Alex Willan stared at the man standing on the other side of her desk. Peter Cunningham, or Pierre as he preferred to be called, was her head cook. He was also short, bearded, and had beady little eyes. She’d always thought he resembled a weasel, but never so much as she did at that moment. “You can’t quit just like that. The new restaurant opens in two weeks.”

“Yes I know.” He gave her a sad little moue. “But really Alexandra, he is offering a king’s ransom for me to—”

“Of course he is. He’s trying to ruin me,” she snapped.

Peter shrugged. “Well, if you were to beat their offer . . .”. . .

Alex’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t help noticing that he’d said “beat” rather than “match” or even “come close.” The little creep really was a weasel with no loyalty at all . . . . . . but she needed him.

“How much?” she asked sharply, and barely managed to keep from hyperventilating at the amount he murmured. Dear God, that was three times what she was paying him and twice what she could afford . . . . . . which he knew, of course.

It was a ridiculous sum. No chef earned that, and he wasn’t worth it. Peter was good, but not that good. It didn’t make any sense that Jacques Tournier, the owner of Chez Joie, would offer him that much. But then Alex could suddenly see what the plan was. Jacques was luring the man away in a deliberate attempt to leave her high and dry. He’d keep him on for two or three weeks, just long enough to cause scads of trouble for her, then he’d fire him under some pretext or other.

Alex opened her mouth, prepared to warn Pierre, but the smug expression on his face stopped her. Peter had always been an egotistical bastard. It was bad enough when he was only the sous-chef, but in the short time since she’d promoted him to head chef, his ego had grown to ten times its previous bloated state. No, she thought with a sigh, he wouldn’t believe her. He’d think it just sour grapes.

“I know you can’t afford it,” Peter said pityingly. Then with something less than sympathy, he added, “Just admit it so I can stop wasting my time and get out of here.”

Alex’s mouth tightened. “Well, if you knew, why even bother suggesting it?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was totally without loyalty,” he admitted with a shrug. “Were you to beat their offer, I would have stayed.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly

“De rien,” he said, and turned toward the door.

Alex almost let him walk out, but her conscience got the better of her. Whether he’d believe her or not, she had to at least try to warn him that he was setting himself up for a fall. Once Jacques fired him—and she didn’t doubt for a minute he would—Peter would be marked. The entire industry would know that he’d left her for them, and then lost that job. Even if people didn’t suspect the truth of what happened and label him a putrid little weasel, they would think he’d been fired for something.

Alex had barely begun to speak her thoughts, however, before Peter was shaking his head. Still, she rushed on with it, warning him as her conscience dictated. The moment she fell silent, he sneered at her with derision.

“I knew you would be upset, Alexandra, but making up such a ridiculous story to get me to stay is just sad. The truth is, I have been selling myself cheap for some time now. I’ve built up a reputation as an amazing chef these last several weeks while cooking in your stead—”

“Two weeks,” Alex corrected impatiently. “It’s only been two weeks since I promoted you to head chef. And you’re cooking my recipes, not coming up with brilliant ones of your own. Surely you can see how ridiculous it is that someone would pay you that kind of money for—”

“No, I do not see it as ridiculous. I am brilliant. Jacques sees my potential and that I deserve to be paid my value. But you obviously don’t. You have been trying to keep me under. Now I will get paid what I deserve and enjoy some of the profits produced by my skills.” Mouth tightening, he added, “And you’re not going to trick me into staying here with such stupid stories.”

With a little sniff of disgust, Peter turned on his heel and sailed out of her office with his nose up and a self-righteous air that made her want to gag.

Alex closed her eyes. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to yell a string of obscenities after the man, and suspected she would enjoy his fall when it came. Unfortunately, her own fall would come first.

Cursing, she pulled her Rolodex toward her and began to rifle through the numbers. Perhaps one of her old friends from culinary school could help for a night or two. Christ, she was ruined if she didn’t find someone and quickly.

An hour later, Alex reached the W’s in her Rolodex with no prospects when the phone rang. Irritated with the interruption when she was having a crisis, Alex snapped it up. She barked “hello,” the fingers of her free hand still flipping through the cards one after the other in quick succession.

“I have someone I want you to meet.”

Alex frowned at the strange greeting, slow to recognize her sister’s voice. Once she did, a deep sigh slid from her lips, and she shook her head wearily. She really didn’t need this right now. She was heartily sick of the parade of men Sam had been presenting her with over the last eight months.

It had been bad enough when she and their younger sister, Jo, had both been single and available, but now that Jo had Nicholas, Sam was focusing all of her attention on finding Alex a man. She supposed it wouldn’t be so bad if even one of the men Sam had insisted on introducing her to had shown some mild interest in her, but after barely more than a moment, and sometimes as little as a few seconds, every single one had simply ignored her, or in some cases, even walked away.

It was giving her a complex. She’d even started dieting, something she’d sworn she’d never do, and exercising, a pastime she detested, as well as trying different makeup and fashion choices in an effort to boost her now-flagging ego.

This really was the last thing she needed, but Alex knew Sam’s heart was in the right place and forced herself to hang on to her patience and even managed to keep her tone to only mildly exasperated.

“Sam, honey, my head chef just quit, and I have one hour to replace him before the dinner set start to arrive. I don’t have time for your matchmaking right now.”

“Oh, but, Alex, I’m pretty sure this is the one,” she protested.

“Right, well, maybe he is, but if he isn’t a world-class chef, I’m not interested,” Alex said grimly. “I’m hanging up now.”

“He is!”

Alex paused with the phone halfway back to its cradle and pulled it back to her ear. “What? He is what?”

“A chef?” Sam said, but it sounded like a question rather than an announcement. It was enough to make Alex narrow her eyes.

“For real?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes.” Sam sounded more certain this time.

“Where did he last work?” she asked cautiously.

“I—I’m not sure,” Sam hedged. “He’s from Europe.”

“Europe?” Alex asked, her interest growing. They had some fine culinary schools in Europe. She’d attended one of them.

“Yes,” Sam assured her. “Actually, that’s why I was sure he would be the one. He’s into cooking and fine cuisine like you.”

Alex drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the desk. It seemed like just too much good fortune that her sister wanted to introduce her to a chef the very day she was in desperate need of one. On the other hand, she’d suffered enough bad luck the last few months that a bit of good luck was surely in order. Finally, she asked, “What’s his name?”

“Valens.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Alex murmured, and then realized how stupid it was to say that. She didn’t know every single chef in Europe. In fact, she only knew a few from her days in culinary school . . . . . . and the names of the famous ones of course.

“Look, he’s a chef, and you need one. What can it hurt to meet him?” Sam asked. “I swear you won’t be sorry. I really think this will work out. Marguerite is never wrong. You have to meet him.”

“Marguerite?” Alex asked with confusion, recognizing the name. She was the aunt of one of Mortimer’s band mates, Decker Argeneau. Alex had never met her, but Sam mentioned her a lot. However, she had no idea what the woman had to do with any of this.

“Just meet him,” Sam pleaded.

Alex sighed, her fingers tapping a rapid tattoo. She could sense that Sam was lying about something in her determination to get her to meet the man, and really, she didn’t have time to waste at the moment. On the other hand, Sam hadn’t hesitated to say he could cook and had even said it was why she’d thought they might hit it off, so Alex suspected that part of it was at least true. At least she hoped it was. The fact was, she was desperate. And, frankly, beggars couldn’t be choosers. If the man could cook even half decently, she was definitely interested in him though not the way Sam was obviously hoping she would be.

“Send him over,” she barked, and then slammed the phone back in its cradle before she could change her mind.

***

Cale was telling Bricker and Mortimer about the wedding he’d attended in New York for several of his family members and their life mates when Sam came hurrying back into the room. “It’s all set,” she announced excitedly. “You have to go to her restaurant right away.”

Cale frowned. “You said you would have her come here.”

“Yes, well, there was a change of plans. Alex has a small crisis at the restaurant and can’t leave,” Sam announced, catching his arm and urging him toward the door to the kitchen. “Actually that reminds me. Can you cook?”

Cale stopped, forcing her to a halt, and announced stiffly, “I don’t eat.”

“I didn’t ask you if you eat,” she pointed out. “Can you cook?”

“Why would I cook if I don’t eat?” he asked dryly.

“Not doing one doesn’t preclude your doing the other,” Sam said impatiently, and then clucked with irritation and tried to urge him to continue forward as she pointed out, “Male designers don’t wear women’s clothing, but they design it.”

“How do you know they don’t wear it?” Bricker asked lightly, drawing Cale’s attention to the fact that he and Mortimer had followed and now stood behind them.

Mortimer chuckled at the words, but Sam didn’t seem to see the humor. Grinding her teeth together, she tugged at Cale‘s arm again. “Come on. You need to get to the restaurant before she changes her mind and takes off for the new place or something.”

Cale tugged his arm free of her hold. “I do not cook food and have no desire to visit a place filled with the stench of it. You’ll just have to arrange a meeting for a different day. I have no desire to go to her place of business.”

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

HUNGRY FOR YOU. Copyright © 2010 by Lynsay Sands. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

ISBN 978-0-06-189457-2

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

About the Author

Born in Southern Ontario, Lynsay Sands is the New York Times bestselling author of the Argeneau Vampire series. She has written more than 34 books and anthologies since her first novel was published in 1997. Her romantic comedies span three genres—historical, contemporary, and paranormal—and have made the Waldenbooks, Barnes & Noble, USA Today, and New York Times bestseller lists.

Lynsay’s books are read in more than twelve countries and have been translated into at least six languages. She’s been a nominee for both the Romantic Times Best Historical Romance Award and the Romantic Times Best Paranormal Romance Award, was nominated and placed three times in the RIO (Reviewers International Organization) Awards of Excellence, and has several books on All About Romance’s Favorite Funnies list.

Visit her official website at www.lynsaysands.net.

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Praise for the incomparable

LYNSAY SANDS
and her USA Today bestselling

ARGENEAU FAMILY NOVELS

“Sands writes books that keep readers coming back for more. . . . Clever, steamy . . . [with] a deliciously wicked sense of humor that readers will gobble up.”

Katie MacAlister

“Vampire lovers will find themselves laughing throughout. [Sands’s] trademark humor and genuine characters . . . keep her series fresh and her readers hooked.”

Publishers Weekly

“Inventive, sexy, and fun.”

Angela Knight

“Fun, witty . . . did I mention sexy?”

Susan Sizemore

“Take a bite into fresh, fun vampire comedy . . . read Lynsay Sands.”

Carly Phillips

Other Books by Lynsay Sands

VAMPIRES ARE FOREVER

THE ACCIDENTAL VAMPIRE

BITE ME IF YOU CAN

A BITE TO REMEMBER

A QUICK BITE

Coming Soon

VAMPIRE, INTERRUPTED

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

THE ACCIDENTAL VAMPIRE. Copyright © 2008 by Lynsay Sands. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

ePub edition October 2007 ISBN 9780061747816

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

VAMPIRES ARE FOREVER. Copyright © 2008 by Lynsay Sands. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

ePub edition January 2008 ISBN 9780061758331

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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