The Clash

Guardian's Realm 3:

The Clash

Crystal Kauffman

Guardian's Realm 3: The Clash Copyright © March 2010 by Crystal Kauffman All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-60737-541-8 Editor: Jana J. Hanson Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin Printed in the United States of America

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Chapter One I'm going to live to regret this. Robert Almaden looked at the GSM phone in his hand for the hundredth time but still couldn't bring himself to punch in the speed dial he'd programmed before leaving the US. This is a mistake, but I have no other choice. The high-speed Euro train raced across Bulgaria toward the Romanian border. All was silent except for a deep throb he could hear inside his head. He doubted the vampire bitch could be trusted, but he could not turn to his agency or even the Guardians for help with this personal and very delicate problem. Chances were she wouldn't return to the United States in his lifetime, so even if she told him to fuck off, his coworkers at the Vampire Task Force would never learn that he'd traveled abroad. Or why. He glanced out the window at the countryside whizzing by. If his coworkers at the VTF learned his secret, he'd be a laughingstock. The ribbing would never end. Worse, he'd no longer be trusted by his superiors. His entire motivation for joining the organization five years ago would come into question. If need be, he'd give up his plan, and his son, to keep his job ridding the world of vampire scum. Technically, Matthew was already lost. It was dusk by the time the train stopped in Brasov. He would have to go the rest of the way by car. A familiar prickling of unease crawled over his spine as he stepped off the train into an inhospitable land of foreign smells and sounds. He didn't speak the language. The food seemed strange and unpalatable to him. Even the air felt different on his skin.

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And night was when the vampires emerged. The threat of danger was almost comforting. It was the only thing familiar and dependable in this unpleasant country. His rolling suitcase bumped and rocked on the cobblestone street of the medieval city, fighting him every inch with a mind of its own. I get it. I don't like it here either. He missed the paved lines, modern order, and hardworking efficiency of the good 'ole US of A. Robert stopped and flipped open the GSM phone. Just get it over with. He punched the speed dial, half expecting the number to be out of service or a fake she'd given to placate the organization before leaving San Francisco. “Salut.” She sang the greeting like a melody. Instantly he knew it was her. He recognized the sultry, Scotch-and-soda voice even though it was months ago that he'd only briefly spoken to Cvetelina. At the sound of her rich contralto, the faded memory of her image flared bright in his mind's eye. “Cine este? Hello, who is there?” “Cvetelina, this is Agent Almaden.” Silence. “Do you remember me from San Francisco?” Still more silence. The line popped, and for a moment he thought she'd hung up on him. “Hmmm. Dark hair, blue eyes. Small penis.” “Excuse me?” She laughed, a throaty chuckle that sent vibrations through his phone, into his hand, and down his spine. “I am a vampire, Agent Almaden. We can, how do you say, see like infrared. I can detect your heart beating. You think I cannot also detect your cock throbbing? You get a hard-on when you come into the room with me.” “Not for the reason you think.” Bitch. “Because you want to stake me.” She drawled the word “stake” slow and deep. “Not in a million years.” His finger itched to disconnect. “That's okay. I might live that long.” She tsk-tsked into the phone, as sultry as a 976-SEXX operator. “Be nice, Agent. You call me because you want something.”

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The way she said vant soom-sink started ripples of heat rolling south. Damn, why did she have to have such a sexy voice? Remember what she is, he told himself. The thought of glowing eyes and elongated canines pulled his mind out of the gutter and sent a chill over his flesh. “I'm in Romania. In Brasov.” Another silence stretched. “You follow me here? I'm flattered.” “I need your help.” “Tracking a vampire, no doubt. Why I should help you?” “Agent Reese with the Vampire Secret Service said you could be trusted.” Robert paused, grinding his teeth. Honestly, one vampire's reference for another didn't mean shit to him. “If you can't, just say so. Don't waste my time and I won't waste yours.” “You Americans are so tense. I sense you are grumpy after long travel.” He expected the phone to click off in his ear. Instead she said, “Who is with you?” “No one. I'm here alone.” “Now you take me for the fool.” His irritation grew, but Robert didn't have the energy to vocalize it. Instead, when he spoke, the pathetic pleading he heard in his own voice shamed him. “Cvetelina, my problem is personal. It's obvious I made a mistake in calling you. Just forget it.” “Where are you?” she cut in. He swallowed, looking around. Asking for help from a vampire suddenly made him feel weak. He regretted he'd even made the call. “I just got off the train. I'm near what looks like a restaurant with red awnings.” “Ah. Boar's Head Inn. Go inside the pub. Isn't safe for you on street. I will be there soon.” She chuckled again. “Try the mead. It is excellent.”

*** Cvetelina stood motionless, staring at the phone after she'd replaced the handset. The note of desperation in the agent's voice was what made her decide to see him. He couldn't be here to destroy her. He'd had plenty of time to do so in the United States, where he wouldn't have faced much opposition. The Vampire Task Force could have legally

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placed her on trial and probably even gotten a conviction despite Agent Reese's testimony she had acted as an ally. She wasn't officially on the Vampire Secret Service payroll. Almaden would be a fool to try and kill her in her home country. Besides, he had plenty of vampires in his home city to keep him busy. No, there had to be another reason he was here. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Having just risen for the night—her day—she had dressed impeccably for her meeting with the senator. The inverted pleats of her Vera Wang slacks were pressed crisp, their flawless snowy cream color a perfect counter to the deep magenta of her silk blouse. Her cashmere sweater matched the pants exactly. The pearl and diamond earrings she wore had been handed down from her great-grandmother, who died in 1421. Prada shoes finished off the outfit—one of her favorites—perfectly. She gave herself a wry smile. Agent Almaden didn't respect her wealth; it was only one more thing he resented about her. That, and the fact he believed she was a lesbian. But mostly because she was a vampire. The man was a cad. Humans. So unforgiving. Still, something about the tremble in his voice tempted her. Maybe he had news about Gladiolas, in which case she would do whatever she could to help. “Who was that?” Sweet Amelie crossed the wide boudoir carrying a silver tray with a crystal tea glass of brandy. “You don't usually waste your time on men with small penises.” The lovely blonde smiled and stared up with wide brown eyes filled with soft innocence. Her dusky nipples showed through her gossamer gown, pebbled despite the warm temperature in the castle suite. She was a beauty and so eager to please, but Cvetelina couldn't deny a familiar twinge of guilt. She'd brought Amelie here in a pathetic attempt to replace precious Gladiolas. Perhaps asking her to wear a gown like those of the slaves at the Palace was a mistake, but it was beautiful, and Cvetelina enjoyed the lightly veiled glimpses of her body. She touched the girl's cheek, and Amelie's smile grew. “A business acquaintance, so penis size is irrelevant.” She winked. “I'm going out earlier than I thought.”

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“You'll be home before dawn?” A hint of fear emerged in Amelie's voice. The girl knew if Cvetelina was still out when daylight broke, she would have to hole up for the day. It had been only two months since she'd rescued Amelie from a gang of punks who intended to rape her, but Cvetelina knew it could take years for the fear to fade. Even though there were others in the castle, Amelie didn't like her to leave. “Of course. You will be safe, darling. Vincent is always here, and Moyra will be in the kitchen until dawn.” “I know.” Amelie set the tray down and turned back to her. “But I miss you when you're gone.” Cvetelina pulled her close and kissed her gently. The young girl leaned into it eagerly, pushing past her lips to sweep inside with a mating of tongues. “I miss you too, love.” She turned to go. “Mistress—” She stopped. “You mustn't leave without feeding first.” Cvetelina smiled. “Of course. I nearly forgot.” The agent's call had rattled her more than she thought. She stepped close and pushed the silky curtain of hair over the girl's shoulder, but Amelie didn't tilt her head. Instead she pulled the swath of cloth aside and bared her breast. “You can feed longer this way,” she said with a sweet smile that tugged at Cvetelina's heart. “You'll be gone longer, so you'll need it.” Cvetelina slipped her hand around Amelie's neck and pulled her close for another kiss, slower and deeper this time to convey her adoration. She did truly love the girl, even if Amelie didn't quite bring the same magical passion that Gladiolas had inspired. She bent her head and flicked her tongue over Amelie's nipple, earning a giggle that turned to a moan when Cvetelina closed her lips over it and sucked. “When I come back, I am going to pay special attention”—she moved her mouth to the other nipple and placed a kiss directly atop the rigid bud—“to both of these.” “And here I thought it was my job to please you.”

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Cvetelina brought forth her fangs slowly, giving the girl a moment to prepare. She pierced the plump curve at the side of her breast where a thick vein ran close to the skin. Amelie's sigh was as passionate as those she issued in the throes of orgasm. Rich, pure blood flooded Cvetelina's mouth, coppery sweet and as satisfying as the most powerful drug. She drank her fill, knowing Amelie was right. It could be hours before she fed again. She withdrew her fangs gently and flicked her tongue over the wounds. Amelie's milky white skin healed instantly. Cvetelina slipped her gown back into place. “Oh.” Amelie's legs buckled. Cvetelina caught her around the waist and carried her to the bed. She eased her down and sat on the edge beside her. Amelie's pale blonde hair spread across the pillow, gleaming against the silver-blue silk sheets. “Next time, you stop me before it's too much,” Cvetelina admonished gently with a feather-soft tweak to Amelie's chin. “Or you'll be in big trouble.” Amelie smiled over a drowsy sigh. “Will you punish me?” “Naughty girl. Be good, and I'll bring you a present.”

*** Robert seated himself in the back of the inn's restaurant. The centuries-old building looked like the set of a 1930s Bela Lugosi movie. Thick, curved rafters created shadows in the ceiling that made him nervous. Slaughtered animal heads mounted on the wall aimed their beady little eyes directly at him. But to his relief, most of the patrons ignored him. A fat man in a stained apron made his way over. “Da.” “Ce bere la robinet?” What do you have on tap? “Silva. Ursus. Ciuc.” “Silva and a plate of zacusca,” he said, using the sum total of the Romanian words he knew. The man grunted and moved off, returning moments later with a foaming stein and a plate with four thick slices of bread and a small bowl of the tomato and eggplant spread. Robert slugged back deep, cool mouthfuls of beer, calming the heated anger brought on by his call to Cvetelina.

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The vampire bitch had some nerve. She was lucky to escape the US with her undead head still attached to those skinny shoulders. As far as he was concerned, she should feel obligated to lend whatever help the VTF demanded. “You are American?” He looked past the rim of his stein to find a stunning young woman standing at his table. Tall and willowy, she looked like a brunette Claudia Schiffer. “How could you tell?” It almost seemed his muscles deflated as the high alcohol content of the Romanian beer slid pleasingly through his veins. “Your accent,” she said, inviting herself to sit. “You are looking for a stout Romanian wife?” He laughed as he shook his head. “No.” “Good.” Her friendly smile turned seductive. “I am not looking for a husband.” “What are you looking for?” “Handsome man for much fun. You are rich?” “Not really.” Ordinarily such a proposition would have set his suspicions on alert, but he was tired and the beer was working its alcohol-induced magic. “And I never pay for it,” he finished dryly. “I am not that kind of girl.” Her eyes narrowed in a seductive manner, one side of her mouth quirked in a half smile. “You want that kind of girl, you go down to Sedrak Street.” “What kind of girl are you?” “I already told you, one who is looking for handsome man to give me good treatment. And in turn, I will give you good treatment back.” Something about the lilt of her words rang familiar. But Robert was sure if he'd ever met her, he would remember. She was drop-dead gorgeous. “You have room here?” “No, but I probably should.” Suddenly a comfortable bed with clean sheets sounded like a dream come true. He was tired, aching, and above it all, randy. “Rooms here have private baths?” A hot shower would be heaven. She quirked an adorable smile. “The more expensive ones.”

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It figures. He looked down at his stein and was surprised to find it nearly empty. The beer had softened the edges on everything in his vision. He'd had two dates in the four years since his second wife had left him, he suddenly realized. Sex on one of them, but it had been clumsy and awkward, with him still moving to the imagined cue of his ex. The idea of a romp with a foreign babe seemed like an adventure and stirred youthful excitement. He felt like he'd aged twenty years in the five he'd been with the VTF. “Registration is through there,” she said, standing. As if he were her puppet, he rose with her. “I have stayed here. Very nice.” He popped up the handle on his suitcase, and she took his free arm, linking hers under his elbow. “What's your name?” He bit his tongue, almost having asked if she came here often. Travel fatigue had made him punchy, and he felt the overwhelming urge to cut loose and act crazy. “I am Mariana. I make confession. I work at the travel agency near train station. I see you get off, and you look lost with your cute little suitcase on wheels. I think you are very handsome man, so I follow.” “Well, Mariana, you're not so bad yourself.” He cut the flirty talk, nerdlike as it was, as he stepped up to the registration desk. “I'll need a room for the night,” he told the young man behind the counter. Robert was old enough to be Mariana's father, but if Vladimir thought their union looked suspect, he didn't show it. He handed over a registration book, a relic straight out of the fifties, and didn't speak until he'd swiped Robert's credit card through one of the two pieces of modern technology on the desk, antiquated as they were. The second was a phone that looked like one of the very first push-button models. “You are in room two-oh-seex,” he said with a thick accent. He finally made eye contact, his nearly black eyes void of emotion. He flicked a knowing glance at Mariana. “Enjoy your night.” Ordinarily such an ominous-looking person would have his vampy senses on high alert, but Robert was feeling out of sorts, and he wanted nothing more than to tear off Mariana's

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clothes and fuck her lights out. The girl had legs for miles, and her breasts—if fake, he didn't care—were round and high, with hard points tenting her filmy blouse. His cock stood at full attention, so hard it ached. They took the stairs, his suitcase thumping up each step, and turned the opposite direction of the restaurant. He jabbed the key at the lock in 206 but missed the slot. Mariana laughed as she took the key and opened the door for him. “Is your first time in Romania?” She moved inside and held the door for him. “Yeah.” The room slid sideways. “I have been to America once. I visit San Francisco.” She threw the door shut. Caution tingled to life, but Robert had to put all of his efforts into remaining standing. Oh fuck. He'd been dosed by that asshole bartender. Mariana turned, backhanding him with the force of a mule kick.

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Chapter Two Purple filled his vision, and dimly Robert felt himself hit the wall. The breath whooshed from his lungs. “You do not recognize me?” He blinked his vision clear to find Mariana leaning over him, eyes glowing yellow. He realized the tragedy of his mistake with absurd calm. Cvetelina betrayed me. Mariana grabbed him by the shirt and flung him the distance of the room. He crashed against the far wall upside down and crumpled headfirst in a heap. The solid, medieval construction of this place would keep anyone from hearing, though it hardly mattered. Any noise would only call the other vampires that were surely near. They gravitated toward violence with an almost psychic magnetism. Even drugged as he was, Robert understood he was a goner. Mariana appeared in front of him as though she'd transported magically across the room in a blink. He brought his arm up, but he was so weak everything felt like it was in slow motion. No, please, not this way. Not by a fucking vamp. Why couldn't I have been hit by a truck? It felt shameful to succumb to a bloodsucker, plain old stupid to walk right into her trap. He truly would be the laughingstock of his department. Mariana grabbed his ankle and flung him against the ceiling. He crashed to the floor, sprawled half across the bed. His knee crunched on the awkward landing. Through bloodied vision, he saw his jacket dangling off his suitcase all the way across the room beside the door. His special mace, an aerosol spray of holy water, seemed a million miles away. She loomed over him, grabbing him by the rags left of his shirtfront. They came away in her hand. She grabbed him by the neck instead and lifted him with one hand.

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“My husband was Youly Malyak. Your fucking VTF executed him!” She finished the sentence with her mouth wide and hissing, spittle stringing from one vicious canine. Her skin had turned pale green, and a network of black veins ran just below the surface. “Green isn't your color, honey.” She flung him the width of the room. He tumbled across the floor, hearing more than feeling the crunch in his shoulder. Robert tried to reach for his jacket, but his arm wouldn't work. She laughed a wicked witch's shriek and snatched his foot before he even lifted his hand, hauling him into the air and flinging him against the far wall within an inch of the window. He slid to the floor, tasting his own blood. He opened his eyes to find her hideous face leering into his. “I have no desire to drink your filthy blood, so I'll just have to rip out your throat.” “Do you think you could eat a breath mint first?” His own words sounded far off as blackness descended and embraced him.

*** Cvetelina stopped on the deserted cobblestone street and looked up to the second floor. Hatred. Violence. Bloodlust. She sensed a lone vampire and a fading human life force. “Dammit.” She opened her wings, tearing the blouse and her favorite cashmere sweater. One powerful stroke sent her up and forward. She tucked her wings and smashed through the window where the energy was strongest, startling a female vampire leaning over the unconscious VTF agent. He was still alive. Thank whatever gods truly existed. The other vampire, a woman she recognized but had never been introduced to, crouched over Almaden with her head tilted and mouth wide open, as if to bite the corner off a taco. She halted, swiveling her gaze over to Cvetelina. “I know you,” she said in Romanian. She didn't release him, unsure of Cvetelina's intentions. “And I know you,” Cvetelina returned in English. “Fuck off. He's mine.”

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She shook her head, clinging to her calm. She had no doubt she was stronger and more experienced than this young vamp, but she wasn't in the mood for a fight. She had just had her nails done. “I cannot let you have him.” “This pathetic human means nothing, and I am owed. He killed my mate.” The female released him, slowly standing while eyeing Cvetelina curiously. “You were there, in San Francisco. That is where I know you from.” Cvetelina stepped into the room, removing her back from the open window. “Da. I was there.” The woman paced the opposite direction, matching her slow stride. Two alley cats squaring off, daring the other to move first. Her eyes narrowed. “How is it you escaped?” “I surrendered. I was pardoned.” The other vamp spat. “Coward. A true vampire would never beg from a human.” “I obey the Sacred Laws.” “Fuck the Sacred Laws! Humans are cattle. We feed. It is the way it is meant to be!” She leaped at Cvetelina, claws and fangs bared. Instead of attacking, Cvetelina sidestepped and struck the other vamp on the back of the head. The woman stumbled and crashed against the wall. “Stop this. I give you the chance to keep your life. Don't be a fool.” The vampire clamored to regain her footing. “Bitch!” “You are no match for me. I am six hundred years old.” The girl laughed out a shriek that made Cvetelina's blood run cold. “You're decrepit!” She charged again. This time the vamp knew to anticipate Cvetelina's sidestep. The other woman tackled her. They both crashed against the wall. Plaster crumbled and bricks came loose. Cvetelina punched the other woman with a right hook. The vamp staggered back a few feet, then tried to come back with a punch of her own. Her fist crushed a hole in the brick. She howled in pain.

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Cvetelina darted around her and thumped her on the spine with both hands clasped together. The other woman staggered to her knees. She pulled her hand free with a shower of crumbled mortar. She spun to attack, but Cvetelina punched her again, sending her sprawling backward. The vamp kicked off the back wall, flipped in the air, and charged. Cvetelina transformed to her demon form, slashed with a wing barb, and shifted back. The damage was already done. Her slacks were ripped at the waistline. The other vampire's severed head hit the floor and bounced twice, rolling to a stop under the small table. Her body sprawled a few feet away, twitching once before falling still. A moment of silence reigned; then there was a whoosh as the body and its head ignited within a few seconds of each other. Cvetelina examined her index finger. What had been a smoothly shaped fingernail was torn down to the flesh. “Damn.” She crossed the room to the hearth, where she retrieved the ash broom and dustpan. She swept up the remains and examined them in the pan. “Young people today just don't listen.” The body left a charred spot on the hardwood floor, making the finish bubble and peel, but Cvetelina had bigger issues to worry about. Other curious vampires were sure to come, called to the violent energy. She dumped the remains into the hearth and tossed the broom and pan aside. Robert Almaden lay twisted on the floor beside the bed. Blood soaked his shirt and spattered his face. She knelt over him and gently turned his cheek. No punctures. His jugular pulsed, weak but steady. “You are a lucky man, Agent Almaden.” She remembered him as strikingly handsome and fiercely proud, with chiseled features and secretive pain in sky blue eyes that were always scowling, trying to hide it.

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But now, in his unconscious state, she saw the true beauty of the man. She felt a pitiful pang, wishing she knew what he looked like when he smiled. That was something she would probably never see. Above it all, in this vulnerable state and covered in his own blood, she felt a strange compulsion to protect. A need so intense to cherish this human life, it was almost sexual. She shook her head. Absurd. The man hated her undead guts. Still, she had to get him the hell out of here. Cvetelina gathered him into her arms and leaped out the window, calling forth her wings as she plummeted toward the cobblestone street. With a powerful downward stroke, she soared into the sky and turned for home.

*** Pain. Aching body. But I'm warm. Soft bed. Quiet. Before he even opened his eyes, Robert reached for his throat. His neck was sore where the vampire bitch held him like a beer bottle and burned inside like he'd been shouting for the home team. But no puncture wounds. He peeled his eyes open. Blurry smears twisted like a kaleidoscope. He blinked to clear his vision. A pretty blonde came into focus. He'd seen her somewhere before. The Palace? No, she just looked like one of the girls he remembered. Of course. Gladiolas. Cvetelina had been in love with the human slave. It looks like she found a replacement. She smiled sweetly, and a flame burst to life inside him. “How are you feeling?” Like I was hit by a truck, he wanted to say. No, worse. Like I was hit by a vampire. That undead bitch had knocked him against the walls like a racquetball. “Cvetelina will be here soon. She's changing her clothes.” She turned to leave. Robert snatched her wrist. A shock of pain raced up his arm. She gasped, tossing weightless hair the color of moonlight as she looked back in surprise. The pain shooting into his shoulder throbbed, but he didn't let go. “I can get you out of here.”

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Her brow creased. “No, thank you.” She tugged her hand, but he held fast. “You don't…” He gritted against a railroad spike that suddenly shot through his knee. “Don't have to be a slave.” “I'm not a slave.” “Then why are you wearing that getup?” “Cvetelina asked me to.” The half-concealed sight of all those feminine curves, of plump breasts with strawberry peaks, a narrow waist, and softly rounded hips centered by a dark blonde thatch of hair, was more enticing than if she'd been naked. His desire flashed and roared. He yanked her arm. With a squeak, she tumbled over him and sprawled on the bed. Tingles flurried over his flesh like snowflakes in a storm. Her wrist was fragile, her skin incredibly soft, and his need was fierce. He had the overwhelming urge to kick her legs apart and plunge inside her soft, feminine core. “Fuck me.” “No!” She slapped him. “I told you, I'm not a slave.” The strike sobered him but lit his passion afire. He pinned both wrists above her head and reared over her. Had he not been tangled in the sheet, he would have mounted her like a wild stallion. Frustration boiled in his veins even while he knew it was wrong. He wasn't a rapist. What the fuck is wrong with me? Her firm, rounded breasts jutted skyward. He stared down at them, practically salivating. He covered one with a hand, reveling in its softness like a randy teenager who'd never touched a woman's breast before. She left her released arm above her head but stared back with piercing intensity. “Please don't.” He closed his eyes and dragged his hand over his face. “God.” He felt her roll away. An instant later, a heavy weight smashed him flat. “Amelie is off limits.” Cvetelina pinned him facedown and hauled his wrists above his head. “You don't touch her.” He struggled to buck her off, but her strength was incredible.

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“Calm yourself, Agent.” Her sultry voice rolled through him like a wave. Above the raw need bubbling in his veins, fear clawed for supremacy. A vampire had him pinned down, her breath hot on his neck. “You can't hold me here. People know where I am.” “I have no desire to hold you here at all. And if I remember correctly, you called upon me.” “Then let me go.” “Do I have your promise you won't rape my houseguest?” “Jesus.” How could she ask such a thing? Even as his mind shrieked at her audacity, his hips thrust into the mattress, acting out his cock's burning need to fuck. “Deep breaths, Agent Almaden. Amelie, the ties.” He fought against her, but her grip was like steel. Heaven help him, the struggle only stoked the fire burning in his blood. He became aware of firm breasts pushing into his back, strong legs tangled with his. The pressure of her pelvis pushing against his buttocks and the hot spot at the peak of her thighs. Holy fuck. I have a hard-on for a vampire. To make it worse, he experienced regret as her body lifted away. Nylon cuffs drew tight at his wrists, pulled secure against unseen anchors below the mattress. “What the hell?” Before he could move, his feet were jerked wide, secured the same way with a shrill whir of nylon against fabric. “Ooh. I think I like this better,” Amelie said. “Let me go!” He twisted his head around to try and see Cvetelina. A stab of razor-sharp pain ricocheted through his neck. “I don't think so. You have been dosed with Tourin, Agent Almaden. You are a danger to yourself and Amelie.” “You have a nerve, vampire. Calling me a danger when you're keeping her as a slave!” “I am not a slave,” the girl protested in a high-pitched voice.

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He twisted back to see the petite nymph plant both hands on her hips. Her small breasts bounced, peaked nipples poking little wrinkles in the translucent cloth of her erotic Roman toga. “The Tourin makes you say that. You don't even realize it.” “I don't use Tourin,” she responded in a pouty voice. “Cvetelina doesn't allow it.” “What a fucking saint,” he snapped, even as he didn't believe it. A stinging slap burned his ass. For the first time, he realized he was stark naked. The sheet that had covered him was now bunched under him, exposing his bare ass to his two captors. Hot terror crackled on his skin. “Is this what you meant when you said you'd bring me a present?” “This is no gift,” Cvetelina returned, her voice light with amusement. “He's more like a curse, if you ask me.” Robert pulled against the ties. He twisted around to look at Cvetelina but only managed a glimpse of athletic thighs in a clingy green velour sweat suit. His fear shifted to desire and then back, like alternating blasts of hot and cold. “I think I would like to teach him a lesson,” Amelie said. “A spanking?” Cvetelina laughed. The sound rolled through him, making a spanking sound like a delectable treat. The vampire drug was really messing with his mind. He wasn't into this kind of stuff! “No. Not exactly.” Her voice dropped in volume. “I have an idea.” Robert didn't like the new arrogance in the younger girl's voice. “Cvetelina, dammit all, let me go!” His demand met with silence. Dimly he heard them whispering across the room. “All right. But only…” “…I won't.” “And you must…” Amelie giggled. “I promise.”

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“Agent Almaden, I'm afraid I have to leave.” Cvetelina's voice grew louder as she neared. “I have an appointment with Senator Veskov in an hour. Then I'll have to visit the Order and explain why I've killed one of my own.” He twisted around to see her walking away. Her ass was firm and narrow, two smooth curves of green velour. Auburn hair bounced at her shoulders. “Amelie will look after you while I'm gone.” “Cvetelina, untie me. Don't do this!” His pleas were answered with the click of the door easing shut. “Cvetelina you bitch! You're going to be sorry! I hold a lot of power at the agency! I'll bring a task force down on your ass like you've never seen before!” “Stop that.” From the other side of the bed, Amelie glared. “She's the most wonderful woman in the world. She doesn't deserve that.” “She's a vampire, sweetheart,” he snapped sarcastically. “Don't trust her for a minute.” “I've trusted her for six months. She's very good to me.” “You're a fool.” “Really! I'm not the one who walked into a trap and almost got my throat torn out.” He closed his eyes and willed his anger away. Flies with sugar, he reminded himself. Blondes with flattery. “Honey, please. Untie me. I was out of it when I woke up, but I've come to my senses. I won't hurt you, I swear. I'm an agent with the Vampire Task Force of the United States of America. I can tell by your speech, you're an American. I can help you. Don't you want to go home?” “I am home.” “How did you get here? Don't you remember a life before this?” “I'll tell you how I got here.” Amelie sat on the edge of the bed. He settled on the pillow beneath his head. Relaxing his neck helped ease the shooting flare stabbing into his brain. He wanted to believe the kindness in the smile she offered him.

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“I met Cvetelina at a lesbian bar in Durst. I thought she was very pretty. We danced and kissed once before we parted. When I went to leave, I was jumped by three guys waiting outside. They said to me, 'Baby, this is your cure, or this is your punishment. You decide.'“ “Jesus. Amelie, I'm sorry.” He closed his eyes, unwilling to let his mind form the frightening image. “They dragged me into an alley and tore off my clothes. Two of them threw me on my back on top of a garbage bin and held my legs apart while the third stood between and whipped out his dick.” He swallowed. “Can you guess what happened next?” “Cvetelina saved you,” he said, praying it was true. “Yes.” Robert let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “He would have hurt me, Agent Almaden. They all would have hurt me.” Then he did picture it. He saw blood and torn flesh. “She killed them.” Her silence answered the question. “Do you fault her for it?” she finally asked in a low voice. “No.” He wasn't surprised by the fact he truly didn't. Amelie's warm palm atop his thigh brought his eyes wide. “I awoke here, in this bed. Warm and safe, my injuries minimal. Much the same as you.” “I'm glad. I wouldn't want to see you hurt.” He meant that too. Whatever had come over him moments ago when he'd dragged her onto the bed and nearly committed a crime just as heinous, it wasn't him. “I didn't mean what I did. I don't know what's wrong with me.” “It's the Tourin. It affects males differently than females. It isn't your fault.” “I've never had it before. I didn't know how to deal.” “I've never had it at all.”

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He angled to see her. She was looking at his back, watching the slow path of her hand on his hypersensitive skin. Her fingernails drew exquisite circles that sent sparks scattering across his body like magic. “Cvetelina doesn't make you drink it?” “She forbids it. She saw the terrible toll it took on Amy Thompson.” Amelie used Gladiolas's real name. So Cvetelina knew the girl's true identity. It hardly mattered. The girl, now free of the drug, had still chosen a future with a vampire and a Guardian, if the rumors were true. “Cvetelina saved my life.” Amelie's claim hung in the air, and he knew what she would say next before she formed the words. “Much the same as you.” It was true. A bloodsucker had saved his life. He understood that, and a grudging part of him was grateful she wasn't like the others of her kind. Still… “She's a vampire.” “She's a wonderful woman. She asks nothing I don't wish to give, yet gives me whatever I want. Including you.” He dragged in a sharp breath. “Amelie, whatever you're planning—” His voice cut off as her palm stroked up his back. Her hand curled until her fingertips scratched gently, exquisitely stimulating. Goose pimples rose over his flesh. “I'm going to sodomize you.”

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Chapter Three Robert nearly choked on his own tongue. “No!” “Ah, you say that now.” Amelie's voice turned teasing. Her fingers changed direction, trailing down his inner thigh and heading for his privates. “I think I can convince you to say yes.” “No way.” “I think I can convince you to beg for it.” “Never!” “Hmmm,” she responded simply. Her fingers dipped into his parted thighs. The tips dragged over his balls. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Almost too lightly, she teased, stroking back and forth before she cupped and squeezed. “Oh God.” Her hand retreated, the fingertips dragging backward over the hard muscle of flesh. Her palm glanced off his ass cheek, and he felt a brush over his anus so light it was almost the breeze of her fingers instead of the digits themselves. “Amelie, please don't,” he said, feeling pathetic and foolish in the reversed role. Was this her goal? To punish him for what he'd almost done? “Don't do what?” This time, as she pushed back down, the flat of one finger pressed between his cheeks and slid over the tightly puckered hole. “Please don't hurt me.” Her fingers were on his balls again, squeezing and caressing him into madness. The heated desire racing through his bloodstream was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The Tourin was a hundred times more powerful than he'd imagined. A thousand times more so.

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“Does this hurt?” Before he could answer, her hand moved forward, beneath him, sliding up the length of his agonized cock. He pushed off the mattress as best he could, giving her the space she needed. Her fingers curled around his girth and grasped, holding still. “Do you want me to stop?” He thrust into her grasp, finding a sliver of relief when she squeezed. “No.” As if in reward, she stroked him once. Up, and down. “You sure?” Back again, fingers through the crease of his ass, teasing. Unable to answer, he merely whimpered, then gave in to the heavy sobs that released the tension in his chest. She was going to rape him. And worse than a woman experiencing vaginal rape, she was going to violate a place that was not meant to be touched. “Don't cry,” she said gently. A stream of cool lubricant squirted onto his ass, making the sobs jerk to a stop. “Amelie, goddamn it!” He heard the click of the cap snapping shut, and again when she placed it on the marbletopped table beside the bed. She rose to her knees on the mattress and leaned over him, sliding her hands up his back. She rubbed at the aching muscles of his shoulders and forearms, easing some of the pain from being bound spread-eagle. “You keep in shape. I appreciate a well-muscled man.” “I thought you liked women.” “I prefer women. But I like a sexy man too.” She stood and crossed the room, swishing like liquid sex in that see-through gown. He twisted to watch her, earning an ass-high view of her delectable derriere. She returned with a satin-covered box and set it on the table. She flipped open the lid, and he glimpsed the tools fitted inside, encased in the same pink satin that covered the outside. All but one were different shades of pink, but brighter, bold against the pale fabric. “I'll let you choose which one.” “Which one what?”

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She removed a tall, narrow rod of bright fuchsia balls formed together, no thicker than her thumb but at least six inches long. She stood it on its base. Next came a squat, thick cone of dusky, translucent pink, like a glass mushroom with a dull tip and smoothly rounded edge at the cap's flare. The mushroom's “stem” was probably two inches in diameter, and it also stood on a flat base. “Did you know Pyrex is one of the strongest materials known to mankind?” “Amelie, what are you going to do?” “They're dildos.” “Oh fuck. Amelie, no. No!” “Will you relax? I've never seen a grown man fall to pieces just looking at a butt plug.” Next she removed a smooth silver missile, the only toy that wasn't pink. The fourth was a pink rubber cock that wriggled in her hand, complete with a lifelike head and simulated veins. Holy-Jesus-shit-oh-fuck! He thrashed, jerking against the nylon ties. “Give it up. They're fastened to bolts in the wall studs.” “Amelie, please don't do this to me.” She knelt on the bed and placed her hands on his back again, this time dragging her nails in magnificent circles and swirls over his skin. His emotions rocked: fear and desire, fear and desire. She leaned close, pressing her breasts against his back, and whispered seductively against his ear, “I told you, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do.” Her tongue darted into his ear, sending him out of this world. She nibbled on his lobe, then licked his neck. Almost as quickly, the seductive manner disappeared and she bounced off the mattress. “Now, let's see what we have here.” She picked up the long, pink rod of smooth balls. “This one is the narrowest, but it's also the longest.” She set it down and picked up the mushroom. “This one is the thickest, but it's also the shortest.” His breath grew thin, and the room twisted in his vision.

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“This one,” she said of the silver vibrator, “isn't as long or as thick, but it's heavy and solid.” She turned it on. It buzzed, shivering in her hand. “And it vibrates.” She giggled. “This one…” She picked up the rubber cock. No way on God's green Earth! “…is also long and thick, but it isn't as solid, or as heavy.” Her fingers pinched just under the crown, showing the pliancy of the rubbery material. “It also has some give. If you prefer lifelike, this is your top-of-the-line model.” He turned his head the other way, unable to look. The jelly she'd squirted on his ass was melting with his body heat. It ran over his balls, tickling him excruciatingly. “I think since you're a beginner…” She stopped. “This is your first time, right?” He barked out a pitiful laugh. There was no way she was going to convince him to say yes to this. “Hmm. I'm guessing it is. You should start slow. I think we'll use this one.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and she didn't volunteer which she'd chosen. He felt her kneel on the bed. He flinched when her hands touched his back and slid over the curve of his ass. “Oh. You're scared. I guess you have no reason to trust me, but I promise, I absolutely swear to you, I won't do anything you don't want me to do.” It was useless to argue. Pointless to beg. She probably liked his pathetic helplessness. “In fact, I'll make you a promise. If you do break down and beg me to fuck your ass”—she leaned close and nibbled his ear again—“I'll let you have me.” “It won't happen.” “We'll see.” Her hand slid down between his legs. The instant she touched him, all thoughts of protest slid out of his mind. His dick was in charge here. Skilled fingers squeezed and plucked his sensitive balls. His cock throbbed, so hot it hurt. He thrust his hips down, fucking the mattress.

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She slid against his skin easily with all the lube greasing him up, but the loss of friction almost made his need worse. He wanted to ram his cock into something tight, a gripping hand or a clenching pussy, and he wanted to ram it hard. She reached under and wrapped her hand around his shaft, giving him a quick tug as though she'd read his mind. “How does this feel?” “Jesus, you know how it feels.” “Say it.” Up, down. Milking him like a cow. Squishing sounds arose from all the lube. “Good. It feels good!” “How good?” Up, down. Tighter this time. His eyeballs rolled back in his head. Oh yes. “Damn good.” It was probably the Tourin, but he'd lost all inhibitions. He didn't care that he was admitting to this little vixen he liked it. If this is torture, sign me up. “Do you want to come?” “Yeah.” “Really?” “Hell yeah.” The need was so bad he would die if he didn't. Her hand slid away again, back, back, back, over his balls, across his taint and up through his crack. “How badly?” Her middle finger pressed down as it passed over his hole. He squeezed his cheeks together. Not that badly. With all that lube, he would be helpless to prevent her if she shoved her finger into him. But Amelie held true to her promise, at least for the moment, and didn't violate him. Almost immediately, she found his balls again. The other hand slid under his hip and grasped his shaft. She worked him two-fisted, driving him out of his mind. He groaned, feeling his balls begin to boil. Big mistake. Both hands vanished. “Ah-ah-ah!” she admonished. Amelie leaned away. He heard the cap on the tube pop open, the noisy squirt of thick, clear lube onto her hands.

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Fingers pressed between his cheeks, slightly cooler from the new jelly. He jerked, clamping down on her fingers. “Take it easy. You have nothing to worry about.” Her hand went still, and she waited until he forced his muscles to relax in a series of reluctant twitches. “Good boy. You see, it's not so bad being touched there.” He mewled like a temperamental little boy. “Please, if I admit it, will you squeeze my cock again?” “Now you're getting it.” Satisfaction bloomed in her voice. “The anus is a tight band of muscle guarding tender, highly sensitive flesh inside the body.” She began a slow motion with her fingers, sliding up and down through his crease. “Most straight men don't allow themselves to enjoy the incredible pleasures to be found at gentle stimulation because they associate ass play with homosexuality.” Her fingers swirled in a circle, simultaneously pushing his cheeks wide and pressing down on his anus. This time he resisted clenching against her. “But you're much too confident to be self-conscious about that.” No. I'm not. Because this actually feels good, and I'm afraid to say so. “Please. My cock. Please, Amelie.” “I can tell just by looking at you,” she went on, oblivious, or pretending so, to his inner torment. Her fingers traced downward, but she tortured him by giving only the briefest caress to his balls. “Cvetelina says you're a fierce, capable agent. Proud and honorable.” She did? “There. I can feel you've relaxed. That's nice, isn't it?” He didn't answer. “Don't be afraid to admit it. I'm not going to penetrate you just for saying so.” A hot breath rushed out of him. “I told you. Not until you beg for it.”

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“Yeah. It's nice.” “Sweetheart! That wasn't so hard, was it? You deserve a reward. Would you like me to rub your cock again?” “Yes.” No hesitation there. “Say it.” “Rub my cock. Please.” The instant her pretty little hand closed around him, he felt the heat of exquisite pleasure build toward crescendo. She grasped firmly, tugging him toward sweet release. “Harder.” She did. “Oh yeah. That's good.” Two fingers pinched at the base of his balls, halting him. “Shit. Please, Amelie. God, I need to come.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I would love to make you come.” The simple idea of her gazing upon his pearly seed was enough to make him erupt. Something cool but rock solid pressed between his cheeks. Gentle pressure prodded his asshole. He gasped, flipping his head the other way to try and see better. The pressure remained but didn't increase. Her hand found his cock again, rocketing him into the strangest mixture of fear and arousal he'd ever known. His gaze flicked to the bedside table. The mushroom was gone. He pulled against the restraints. “Arch your back. Enjoy the pressure.” He could only grunt a response. “Does it hurt?” “N-no.” “I told you it wouldn't.”

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He thrust into her hand. She tightened her grip, sliding from head to hilt. Back up again. Skilled fingers rolled over the sensitive head, closed into a fist, then parted as though he were pushing into a tight, wet pussy. “Oh God.” Her caressing hand slowed. He thrust his hips, but the clench of her hand fell away. “Please.” “Please what?” “Please make me come. I'm begging you.” He knew precise details about the power of the Tourin's evil hold. Any other time, he could rise from this bed, unsatisfied, and his need would diminish. A cold shower would end it altogether. But under the influence of Tourin, he would remain in a state of agonized desire for hours. He could force thoughts of dentists' drills, dirty baby diapers, and mothers-in-law into his head, but nothing would make the need go away. “I would love to make you come,” she repeated. “But I won't.” He knew what he had to do. “All right.” “All right what?” “Do it.” She teased his desperate cock again with a quick stroke up and down. “Do what?” “Dammit all!” She laughed. “Fuck me.” “No.” What the hell?

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She closed over his crown, wet and squishy with lube. He thrust forward, and this time she let him fuck her fist. Her fingers spread and trailed down his granite column. “Fuck me!” The pressure increased by a smidgeon. He hardly noticed. “Are you sure?” “Yes! Please, fuck me.” “I don't know…” “Fuck me! God, Amelie, if you have a shred of mercy, I'm begging you. Please fuck my ass!” She pushed the plug into him. It was solid Pyrex glass, unyielding to the involuntary clench of fright as his logical mind tried to refuse its passage into his body. The tip had been warmed by the contact with his flesh. Now a cooler, foreign section invaded him, sending a shock of fear to his heart. Its width tripled by the inch, and a flash of terror that he would surely die robbed him of all sights and sounds. Suddenly his anus closed tight around its stem. The bolt of pain as the widest part forced him open was there and gone like a lightning strike. “There, now. There.” Her whisper soothed as Amelie straddled his thighs. She pressed her body over him, calming his trembling, and placed a kiss at the back of his neck. She circled him with her arms, reaching beneath him to grasp his straining cock with both hands. She worked his shaft up and down, fingers laced together to stroke him in a magnificently unbroken circle. He gave a cautious thrust into her hands, testing the movement against the rocksolid thickness spreading his ass. He understood what she intended, and she'd succeeded. He felt fucked, and damn if he didn't like it. He should be embarrassed to lose himself to a stranger this way, yet there was nothing but this intense pleasure and the mind-blowing awareness of his absolute captivation. The mass was heavy and solid in his ass, but not altogether unpleasant. Its cool, foreign presence was almost exciting. She was right; that part of him was otherworldly sensitive. With

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her finally working his shaft as his body so desperately needed, the sensation complimented her stimulation beautifully. Fucked and fucking. She stroked down, releasing the clasp of fingers to squeeze at his balls with one hand and stroke in a circular motion on his shaft with the other. She then clasped them together again and stroked up and down tightly. “Like this, baby?” she whispered as she repeated the motion, her voice breathy as if she enjoyed it as much as he did. “Oh yeah.” She did it again, squeezing tighter when she clasped her hands together, driving him sweetly insane. “Harder?” “Yeah.” “Faster?” “Yes! Oh God!” “Come for me, sweetheart.” “Fuck yeah.” He repeated the oath again and again until the words turned to prehistoric grunts. The sensitive nerves in his ass flared to life as he thrust into her hands. His entire lower half was consumed in a supernova of sensation. The jizz erupted out of him in great, heavy spurts. She caught some in her hands on the upward peak, further greasing her grip. The room spun, and there was nothing but the pleasure coursing through him and out of him. As the pinnacle diminished, so did her strokes, Amelie almost mentally in tune with his orgasm. Her grip turned gentle, her caress loving. Finally he collapsed, boneless and trembling, tight muscles now relaxed. Her warmth slid away. He felt movement on the bed, heard fabric rustling. The tension in the bonds released, but he couldn't move. She pulled him onto his side. He felt her tugging on the butt plug. As helpless as a baby, his body surrendered it. This time, as the widest part passed through his anus, there was no pain. With it gone, he felt oddly deflated. His eyes drifted shut.

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She cleaned him with a warm, moist cloth, then pulled the sheet up to his shoulder. Her weight dipped the bed behind him. Amelie leaned over him and kissed his cheek, and then whispered in his ear. “I always keep my promises.”

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Chapter Four Torment, anger, and pain. The fear was black. Worse than the finality of death, it was unending torture chasing him through colorless nightmares. An unseen predator, inky as a shadow. And then the pretty vampire, only she wasn't pretty anymore, it was her horrible, green self, and those big yellow teeth, ready to rip out his throat. Suddenly he was surrounded by comfort, safety, and hope. The scent of roses with a hint of citrus, like lemon. Not Amelie. She'd smelled like cotton candy. Pleasure, bold and exquisite, unlike anything he'd ever known. Not just pleasure but healing, erasing his wounds. A hand on his hip, gently easing him over. A slight tickle at his most private place, and then the pleasure multiplied a thousand-fold, moving into him, carrying up inside him. Consuming his entire body, so potent his suddenly pulsing erection was hardly noticed. So intense the fear, worry, and sadness were all erased. Robert awoke with a start. Through an uncovered window, a masterwork of pink, orange, and gold brushstrokes painted the sky. He should ache like he'd died and been brought back, but strangely, he felt no pain. The vampire bitch had plowed him over good, yet his shoulder didn't grind, and his knee wasn't swollen. His dick was more than half hard, and the incredible orgasm Amelie had given him left him invigorated. His body still thrummed with sexual energy. The Tourin would be in his system for hours, perhaps even days. As he lay there, reliving the experience, the sky grew darker, answering his question of dusk or dawn. Time to go find my host.

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He rose and showered in a marble and glass bathroom the size of his apartment. The hot water lasted forever, and he remained in it well past pruning just to see how long it would hold out. Cvetelina's soap was creamy and expensive smelling, yet clearly meant for a man. He couldn't help but wonder about other male guests she'd entertained before him. When he emerged, he found his suitcase beside his bed, his cotton sweats laid out for him. He dressed and towel dried his hair, then went back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He examined the scratches on his chest. They were hardly more than red lines. He shuddered. As well as opiates, the Tourin running through his system consisted mostly of vampire plasma and glucose and probably had everything to do with his fast healing. Another secret he would hide forever from the VTF. I'm tainted. Robert padded into the hall in his bare feet. He followed a glow of light to the end of a long passageway. The house was a castle, literally. He passed into a circular room with bare walls made of immense stone blocks. This was a turret, but this was no crumbling castle of old. It had been renovated beautifully, this area serving as a colossal circular staircase. He leaned over the rail and peered up. The coved ceiling was two stories above. He looked down. Two more stories below. Jesus. All this belonged to Cvetelina? When he reached the bottom, he found the ancient walls adorned with portraits whose brass plaques identified descendants back to the twelfth century. He encountered a butler who looked about that old in the foyer at the end of yet another long hall. “Madame and Miss Amelie are on the patio enjoying breakfast, sir,” the man volunteered in a dust-and-cobwebs voice. “This way.” He only gestured, and Robert found himself headed alone toward French doors covered with thick velvet curtains. Outside he heard feminine voices in light chatter. Something Amelie said made Cvetelina laugh. Robert's guts swooped. He could only imagine. Both women looked up, still smiling, when he emerged. He hadn't seen Cvetelina since the first and only time, months ago. He'd recognized then that she was beautiful, but he hadn't realized how beautiful.

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He hadn't realized her eyes were such a vivid emerald green. Hadn't realized she had a dimple in one cheek when she smiled. Hadn't realized her teeth were straight and white, her lips full and lush, her peaches-and-cream skin marred by delicate laugh lines that only added to her loveliness when she smiled. He'd been so full of hatred he'd refused to acknowledge a vampire was at all human. So full of bitterness he'd refused to think a vampire could be sexy and alluring. He'd been so resentful of her wealth he hadn't realized she possessed a wholesome earthiness not soured by her privilege. Somehow he knew it wasn't the Tourin still boiling in his veins that made him recognize it: this woman was stunning. “Ah, Agent Almaden. Please join us.” The blue flagstone patio met a low wall. Beyond, an immense lawn stretched toward another stone wall, framed at either end by matching pencil junipers. On a lower tier, a rose garden stretched underneath a twilight sky sparkling with diamond chip stars. He shuffled across stones still holding the sun's warmth and sat at her quaint wrought-iron patio table. “Coffee?” she asked, pouring before he bothered to answer. Curling brown liquid tumbled into the delicate china cup. Its enticing aroma rose on tiny wisps of steam. He looked up with narrowed eyes. Her smile grew. “Please, Agent Almaden. Feel safe in my home.” Amelie laughed, tickled by his distrust. To show he wasn't afraid, he picked up the cup and sipped. His lids drifted shut of their own accord. French macchiato with a hint of almond. Pure heaven. “Amelie was just telling me how she promised to fuck you.” His gaze snapped to the younger girl. Her eyes danced with merriment. “I'll leave you two to discuss business,” Amelie said. She rose from her chair and bent to kiss Cvetelina on the cheek. Her fingers trailed over Robert's shoulder as she departed. “Agent, you be sure and let me know when you're ready.” He eyed his host.

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Cvetelina shrugged one shoulder. “She is free to do as she wants. Whom she wants.” “You vamps sure are a randy bunch, aren't you?” He looked into his coffee cup, then slugged back the remainder of the magical brew. Still hot, it scalded his throat pleasingly, grounding his thoughts. “Don't worry. I'm not interested.” “Amelie is human. And of course you are interested. She is a beautiful woman. And as you see, she is uninhibited in her…activities.” She flashed him a mischievous smile. Apparently vampire women were just as gossipy as human women. He swallowed down a lump of shame. Memories of the night were cloudy but not forgotten. He'd begged the girl to fuck him with a big pink butt plug. A chubby maid rolled up a service cart. Silver and crystal rattled across the uneven patio. Robert waited in silence until she'd served him a heaping platter of scrambled eggs, bacon, and herb-crusted bread with some cinnamon and maple-flavored butter spread. Alone again, Cvetelina poured him another cup of coffee. “Tell me why you are here, Agent Almaden. And tell me why the VTF believes you are fishing in Montana.” He spared her a glance before digging into his food. It didn't surprise him she'd checked up on him. “I told you, it's personal.” That was all he revealed as he shoveled food into his mouth. The breakfast was superb, and he was so hungry he didn't care if it was drugged. He was glad Cvetelina waited in silence. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and wasn't interested in filling the time by discussing Amelie's uninhibited activities on his ass. After he'd finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, drained the last of his second coffee cup, and leaned back in his chair. He knew he should thank her for saving his life, but slivers of distrust still remained. “Did you have anything to do with that bitch in the hotel?” Her pleasant smile remained, but he noticed the flicker of emotion that passed through her eyes. She was too refined to let her irritation show. Strangely, it looked more like hurt than irritation. “Why would I do that? Because I feared you had come here to destroy me?”

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“You were pardoned. I'm not a vigilante, here to dole out some punishment I think you deserve.” “You think I deserve to be destroyed?” “No. I didn't mean it that way.” He glanced away. The rose garden was now shrouded in shadows. He imagined unholy things skulking out there. What kind of nightmarish creatures did vampires keep as pets? “I know you weren't involved in any criminal activity. VSS explained—” “How they threatened me into working undercover, even though I was more than willing to help?” This he had not known. Cvetelina shifted in her chair. His gaze dropped to the wriggle of her bosom before he could stop himself. Tight nipples poked little tents in her pink silk shell. The woman likes pink. He met her eyes. Hers now held sincere hurt. “They just said you were an agent.” “No, Agent Almaden. I did not have anything to do with the vampire woman's attack.” He looked at his empty plate, nodding. “Robert.” He dragged his gaze up to mingle with hers. “Thanks are overdue. I appreciate your saving my life.” She did that one-shoulder shrug again. “As humans go, you are not so bad.” He actually laughed. It felt strange, laughing with a vampire, yet when she smiled at him, he grew two degrees warmer inside. He glanced at the spans of lawn visible in a circle of light from the house. A spotted fawn had appeared on the wide plateau, nibbling at the lush green shoots. It looked up at them, took a few nervous steps, then resumed grazing. “It's my son.” He looked back to find her attentive gaze, as grateful for the concern he found in her eyes as he was that she had saved his life. “That's why I'm here.”

*** A son? He was married?

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Cvetelina had scarcely believed Amelie's recounting of their encounter as true. Looking at him now, she knew whatever had happened was entirely blamed on the Tourin coursing through his veins. Robert Almaden was all business. The resentment seeping from his every pore was impossible to deny. It was pure torture for him to thank her for saving his life. It was nearly killing him to ask a vampire for help. She could see it in his eyes. Now she realized he'd been lured into Amelie's bed from a wife. She felt like underling scum. “I did not know you were married,” she said, trying to sound idle. “I'm not.” He didn't volunteer any more, and hell if she was going to ask. “I joined the VTF five years ago, after I learned my son had been turned. Before that, I was a cop. San Francisco PD.” Ah. She understood now. His son was a vamp. “Is this why you hate vampires so much? Because your son was turned into one?” He looked away. A tic worked in his jaw. She could throw this in his face, use it to put him in his place every time he made a crack about vampires. But she wouldn't. Cvetelina followed his gaze to the little fawn and sighed. She wasn't made up of that kind of stuff. It didn't matter what he thought of her, she couldn't bring herself to spite him. “You believe your son is here, in Romania?” she asked when he didn't answer the first question. She sipped at her coffee, pretending vague interest. Inside she was torn. Six hundred years ago, before being turned against her will by her cruel husband, she'd been desperate to conceive. She would have given anything for a child. As a vampire, she'd endured almost six centuries with the knowledge a baby was the one thing she would never have.

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That didn't stop the longing or end the regret. In all these years, the only thing she had to be grateful for was that she didn't need a man in her life for anything. Especially one who resented her so absolutely. But the honest desperation in his voice made her pause. At the very least, the part of her that was still human pitied him his loss. At least he'd had a son. What she wouldn't give to be in his position. She knew she would do anything to protect a child of her own. “I spotted him in a surveillance photo taken in Bucharest.” She raised her brows. Romania was brimming with vampires, but in Bucharest, all gave loyalty to a vicious clan leader. If you weren't part of Viktor Vassilev's gang, you lived in respectful awe of him at the very least. “Bucharest is a dangerous place for one of your occupation to visit.” “Don't you worry about that. All I need is someone to confirm his whereabouts. I'll do the rest.”

*** Robert followed Cvetelina into a plush office as luxurious and modern as he would expect to find on Wall Street. He pretended disinterest, not about to drool over her wealth, which grew more impressive at every turn. That light rose and citrus scent sparked foggy memories he couldn't quite grasp, yet they didn't stimulate fear. He suspected she had healed him while he slept, but no way was he going to ask. All these things—the Tourin, a vampire's strength, their healing powers—he knew of only secondhand. Documented in one dossier or another at VTF headquarters. He'd never actually experienced them. Not for the first time did he grudgingly admit he was woefully ill-prepared for this quest. But it didn't matter. This wasn't a routine assignment. This was his son, dammit all. Cvetelina sat behind an immense mahogany desk of knotted burl so dark a brown, by contrast it made her hair appear to shimmer with gold highlights. He sat across from her, pinning her with a stare. She picked up the phone, just as cool as could be, and dialed. Nothing he did ruffled her in the least. He didn't like that reaction from a woman, especially a vampire.

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Too-strong women made him cranky. He heard a voice buzz when the call was answered. She spoke entirely in Romanian, except for “Matthew Almaden.” Even though he didn't understand any of it, he could tell she spoke to a friend. Her tone was light and friendly. She finished the call on a cheerful note, saying, “Da. Multumesc.” Yes, thank you. The seventh and eighth Romanian words he understood. She hung up and aimed a piercing stare right back at him. “I am going to fax the picture now.” She thrust out her hand. Robert glanced down at the black-and-white surveillance photo he held by the corner, his first and only link to his son in five long years. It felt like a lifeline he didn't want to relinquish. He handed it over, then stood and met her at the fax machine on the matching bureau beside her desk. She put it facedown on a flatbed scanner fax and typed in the number. Robert stood behind and slightly to her left, examining her up close. She had a tiny mole in the valley beneath her cheekbone. The pink lip gloss she wore had a silvery frost and smelled like strawberries. She glanced sidelong at him, cool under his close scrutiny. Her eyes skipped to his mouth, then back to meet his gaze. Being this close to her brought a liquid sensation to his limbs. Was it vampire magic? “What will you do when you locate him?” The tension snapped back into his spine. He turned away and flopped into the leather chair across from her desk. “I am not a spy for the street thugs of Bucharest,” she said when he ignored her. He ground his teeth. He hadn't actually thought she'd betray him, only that she would think his plan was dumb. “Talk some sense into him. Ask him to come home.” “Tell him you love him? Forgive him for being, as you so quaintly put it, a bloodsucker?” His anger piqued. He felt irritable and suspected his short fuse was part travel weariness, part Tourin. “Yeah. Those things.” She returned to her own chair and crossed her legs. He got a glimpse of bare knee as the hem of her skirt rode up.

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“I suspect you had a great falling out.” “You're a therapist now?” “I have lived six hundred and twenty-three years, Agent Almaden. I have not aged, but I have matured. Human nature is not so complex. Passion is potent. Things are said in the heat of emotion that few are courageous enough to take back.” “All right, I won't argue with you on that,” he admitted easily. “But it wasn't like that. I wanted him to consider treatment—” She barked out a laugh. “Treatment?” “You're a vampire,” he snapped. “Of course you don't know about the agency's tests.” He took a deep breath, fighting to remain composed. Don't make her angry until after she's helped. “Five years ago the treatments were crude and unsuccessful. Recently my agency has had more success with a new drug—” “Agent Almaden, did it ever occur to you the only person who has a problem with your son's vampirism is you?” “Did you ever consider that there are some who might want to feel the sun on their face again?” He cut off abruptly when the phone rang. “Da.” Cvetelina flicked her forest green gaze to his. She licked her lips, sending a zing through his gut straight to his cock. Jesus, the woman pisses me off, and I only get hornier. Dangerous effect. “Da. Yes, I know where it is. Thank you, Helena.” She hung up the phone. “Well?” “Your son is known around Balotesti, a suburb in the north end of Bucharest. My friend does not know where he hibernates, but he is known to frequent a discotheque called the Witching Hour.” Excitement simmered in his gut. This was the closest he'd gotten yet. “Thank you, Cvetelina. You've been very helpful. When I get back to the US, I'll tell Reese as much.”

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He stood, and Cvetelina shot to her feet with him. “There is something you must know about the gangs in Bucharest. It will be very dangerous for you to go there—” “Thanks for your concern,” he said with an unintentional snideness in his voice that surprised him. “But I'll take it from here.”

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Chapter Five Robert wasn't sure if it was the lingering uneasiness from his vampire attack two days ago, or his Spidey-sense warning him of a new threat. He'd felt a dark presence during the entire twohour train ride back from Brasov. Now it was stronger, creeping over his flesh like icy fingers, black and chilling. Satellite map programs weren't as good in Europe as they were in the US, especially in Romania, but he found the city center easily enough upon disembarking. This time he walked with his hand in his pocket, wrapped around the spray canister of holy mace. A medieval church with two cylindrical spires stood at the top of a small rise, leading him to his destination like a beacon of hope. He walked up the narrow cobblestone street running to one side of the church. As he crested the hill, an impressive view of the city center below spread before him. A large brick square commanded his attention. Evening revelers crowded the shopping area, most of them couples walking arm in arm, converging in the brightly lit square as if seeking protection from the night. A line of trendy businesses stretched the length of the square. Their storefronts glittered against the dark. He felt a surge as he saw the club, second to last. The Witching Hour's sign gleamed in red and purple neon above an otherwise pitch-dark front. The name was written in Romanian Cyrillic, but a cartoonish witch sitting on a neon broomstick made him confident he had the right place. The single door opened, spilling a rectangle of bluish light as a lone figure strode out. As far up the hill as he was, he could hear the brief moment of thumping of music from within. Robert stopped in the shadows of the church's neighboring building to catch his breath. Thankfully, using the night as his waking hours here in Romania, he only felt two hours off Pacific Daylight time. He could stay up all night if he had to.

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Just as Matthew would. A rustle behind him sent him whirling around, heart in his throat. A balled-up paper bag tumbled on the cool night breeze. Christ. If this were San Francisco, he wouldn't feel half so much on edge. His hand gripped the mace so hard it hurt. Robert's searching gaze landed on a silhouetted figure halfway down the hill. Icy terror flash-froze on his skin. It stood eerily still, staring in Robert's direction. Whether it was man or creature, he didn't know, but the lingering uneasiness that had been following him all day leaped to red alert. It appeared cloaked, with broad but strangely hunched shoulders. Its posture wasn't casual. In fact, it was ominously purposeful. Fucking great. Robert slipped around the corner of the building, pulse pounding. Could he make it to the square before it caught up with him? Another flicker of blue caught his attention as the Witching Hour's door opened. Below, four figures strode into the brightly lit square. Matthew. He would recognize that lanky strut anywhere. The long-legged stride, the shift of his shoulders left and right with each step, the way his son dug both hands into his jeans' pockets. Five years gone, and his son was still nineteen, frozen in youth for eternity. He glanced around the corner. The figure stalking him was gone. Maybe he'd imagined it. He relaxed and looked back toward the city center. And came face-to-face with a snarling vampire in demon form. Glowing red eyes flashed with rage. Robert bit out a startled oath and staggered backward into the street, only to be grabbed by the lapels of his jacket and lifted off his feet. “You cause much trouble in my country, little man. Mariana was very famous performer.” The vamp lifted him higher, ignoring Robert's pathetic thrashing.

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“There is big prize for your head. I, Krassimir Molinayov, will be much reward for your capture.” He clawed at the monstrous hands holding him. The vamp gave him a shake, rattling Robert's teeth. For the second time in as many days, he felt his life slipping away at the hands of a vampire. No, God, not when I'm so close! “But first I have some fun with you for Mariana. I think she would like you to suffer.” Robert managed to wrench his hand out of his pocket. He aimed the tiny cylinder and sprayed the vampire straight in the eyes. The demon let out a bloodcurdling howl and hurled him into the street. Robert hit the cobblestone pavers hard. The injury to his shoulder tore anew with a burst of fire. Heavy footsteps stomped after him. The aerosol can rattled away into the darkness. “That wasn't very nice, Agency Man.” Hellfire and damnation, the beast was unaffected! Robert scrambled to his feet and ran for the church. He squeezed between two bars on the wrought-iron fence and tumbled into the yard. The vamp reached a hand through, narrowly missing as Robert scrambled backward. The creature pulled his arm back and withdrew his wings, choosing to fly over. Shit. I thought you fuckers couldn't enter hallowed ground. Robert sprang to his feet and ran for the nearest doorway, a side entrance he realized too late was covered with a gate of iron bars. He squeezed through into the narrow vestibule and hauled on the handle. The heavy wooden door wouldn't budge. He pounded with his fist. “Open the door!” The vampire, suddenly behind him, laughed and stuck an arm through the gate. “Nobody help you!” Its voice had turned rumbling and demonic, like a creature from a cheesy horror flick. Robert pressed himself as flat as he could go, just out of reach of the vampire's clawing fingers.

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The beast withdrew his arm and grabbed the bars with both meaty paws. He jerked. Plaster crumbled free at the hinges and lock. He jerked again. Iron bent. The top hinge popped free. Another jerk tore it off. The beast hurled it over his shoulder and sent it flying out of sight. He grinned, eyes flashing red. The next instant, the monster was gone, soaring sideways in a blur with another winged creature. Robert fell back against the door and dragged in a breath. Holy fuck. He risked a glance outside the ruined vestibule. About ten feet away, the vampire sprawled in a patch of weeds, alone. It lumbered to a sitting position, confused. Its gaze zeroed in on Robert, and fury filled its eyes. Robert took off at a run toward the church fence. He jammed himself through the bars and stumbled, arms cartwheeling as he headed for the top of the hill. Hot agony mashed in his shoulder joint with each rotation, and he would swear he heard a sound like grinding coffee beans over the cacophony of fear in his head. He had to get to the city square. Safety lay in numbers. Out here on this dark and deserted street, he was vampy chow, and nobody would ever find so much as a measly finger bone. Something caught him, enveloping him in a warm shroud. He caught the scent of roses and citrus. He was spun, lifted off his feet, and pressed against the wall of the building across from the church. Cvetelina. Once again, saving his sorry ass. “My son is down there—” “Shh!” Thunderous footsteps ran toward them. “Quiet.” Cvetelina wrapped her wings around him, hugging him against her body like a lover. It felt like being cradled in a giant, gentle hand. Where he thought vampire wings would be disgusting, instead the sensation was intimate, almost erotic. The flesh of her webbing was as soft as the skin on her cheek, the cartilage and bone rock solid with superhuman strength. Incredible.

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The vampire drew close. Cvetelina closed her eyes. The demon vampire rounded the corner and looked directly at them…and then away, as if it couldn't see them! Her lips pursed in a silent shhh. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. The vampire neared, searching. Cvetelina tucked closer, pressing Robert against the wall. Her breasts pushed into his chest, her hip pressed against his unbelievably erect cock. He didn't feel himself moving, but somehow his cheek came against hers. He turned his head, feeling the incredible softness of that silky chestnut hair. If I'm going to die, at least I'm going to die in a woman's tender embrace. The vampire assassin grunted with confusion. Its wings emerged like an umbrella bursting open. A powerful downward surge launched it straight up. Vicious barbs gleamed in the wan light, as thick and long as raptor claws. Cvetelina's body jerked at the sharp snap of the vampire's wings. Robert realized her entire body was trembling. Was the cool, sophisticated, centuries-old vampire princess scared? He certainly wouldn't blame her. In fact, he hoped she was, if only to make her more human. A shower of grit rained down on them as the vampire landed on the roof's edge. Cvetelina sagged against him. Whatever she was doing to keep the monster from seeing them, it was weakening her. Robert went to slip his arms around her and realized they already were, his hands tucked under those majestic wings. He drew her closer, urging her to shift some of her weight onto him. Above them, a furious roar made his blood freeze. There was a noisy flap, and Robert looked up to see the monster soar off into the black sky. “Jesus H. Christ.” “Are you harmed?” He focused his attention on his shoulder but was afraid to test it. “Just a little shaken.” She sighed. “Good.” Her body turned pliant in his arms, and her knees gave out. He caught her weight and hefted her up. She fell against him like a drunk.

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Her wings retracted, but even as inexperienced as he was—hell, he'd never even seen vampire wings—he knew the motion was awkward, strained. They folded in on themselves and slipped through slits specially tailored into the back of her leather jacket. “How did you keep him from seeing us?” “I told you.” She smiled weakly. “I am very old vampire.” Her lids fell on a slow blink. Robert lifted her chin with a finger. “Are you going to be all right? Because you seem kind of out of it.” Her emerald eyes shone in the moonlight. Her gaze fell to his mouth. He sensed her leaning closer to him, or maybe it was him leaning closer to her, but the next thing he knew, he was kissing her. She responded slowly, no, weakly, but with interest. Somehow in tune with him, at the same instant he tilted his head one way, she tilted hers the other. Her lips parted, urging him to do the same, only he didn't need any urging. Her tongue found his hesitantly, cautiously. She tasted as normal as any red-blooded woman. For all the carnal depravities he'd heard of vampires, her kiss was tender, gentle, and butterfly soft. He swept his tongue into her mouth, suddenly desperate to explore more of her. Just how human was she? Damn. This isn't what I came here for. Matty was here. He'd seen him. Robert broke away, staring down the hill at a now-empty square. “No.” “My son is down there!” She grabbed his arms with renewed strength that stunned him. “It isn't safe. Don't you understand? There is a bounty on your head!” He stopped struggling and jerked his attention back to her. A cold wave swept from head to toe. He then hauled her around and pinned her against the wall in his place. “My son is all that matters.”

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“A vampire assassin is trying to kill you.” “Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time.” Easing back, he got a good look at her for the first time tonight. Holy shit. She looked fucking hot. The little leather jacket stopped at her waist. Beneath it was a red silk camisole. A short leather miniskirt let a glimpse of bare thigh show at the top of fishnet stockings fastened to a black satin garter. She wore a pair of low-heeled ankle boots that looked aptly appropriate for kicking ass or walking the fashion runway. Damn. Cvetelina was the real thing. Kate Beckinsale could learn a thing or two from this woman. She stood taller and lifted her chin. “Your son has gone.” Robert craned around to look at the empty square. “He might have gone inside.” As if to mock him, the light over the Witching Hour blinked off. “It is too dangerous for you here alone.” He turned back and glared. “Goddamit Cvetelina, what do you suggest I do?” “Accept your son for what he is.” “You don't understand.” He leaned into the wall with both hands, one on either side of her. “I can't give him up. I can't just go home and forget I have a son!” “I understand your need—” “You don't. You can't possibly.” “But I do.” He shook his head. “You can't feel. Your heart is dead.” Even as he said it, he felt cruel for it. But the anger was there, hot and red. He'd been so close to the son that had been half a world away from him for more than five years he could practically smell him. “Just because you hate what I am doesn't make your assumptions true.” He shoved back. “You don't feel what I feel. You're incapable of love.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really believe that?” “Can you feel pain, Cvetelina? Am I capable of hurting you?”

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Robert pounced, crushing her against the wall. He seized her mouth, this time kissing her to punish. He forced his knee between hers and shoved with his thigh, forcing her legs apart. He groped under the flap of her jacket, found her breast, and squeezed roughly. She gasped into his mouth, flicking across his tongue with hers. The rage turned to hot, burning need. His other hand slid under her skirt. She wore tiny, flimsy panties he easily tore away. He cupped her ass, squeezing the plump flesh once before he pushed his hand between her thighs. He discovered impossibly soft, downy hair and intense heat. He dragged his hand forward, working the flat of his middle finger between her outer lips to find the moisture weeping from her pussy. He stroked the length of her, finally finding her clit with the tip of his finger. He teased it in a circular swipe. Cvetelina mewled low in her throat. The sound was his undoing. He tore open his fly. His cock sprang out, raging hard. The Tourin was still coursing through his blood. Or at least he let himself think that was the reason he was so desperate to fuck this beautiful vampire. Robert shifted his hips between her thighs. As if his cock could think, it aimed straight for her hot center and found the warm kiss of her ready cunt. He gave a tentative thrust, pushing against the resistant hole. Her kiss stilled on a sharp breath. He seized her lower lip in his teeth in a stinging bite, giving fair warning. He gripped her hips to hold her still and rammed inside, parting pliant flesh to stab deep. Cvetelina threw back her head and cried out. For a six-hundred-year-old vampire, she was damn tight. He shoved forward, testing the resistance of her sheath. A slow withdrawal coated them both in more of her nectar, leaving her helpless against his plunder. He rammed hard again, demanding full penetration. Robert began a hammering rhythm with his hips, forcing himself deeper with each new thrust. Her moisture soaked him, giving him the lubricant he needed to demand her full surrender. He felt her soft walls yield to the force of his mass. She locked her arms around his neck. One thigh hooked over his hip. He caught her behind the knee, shifting to angle himself straighter up inside her. It was a magnificent feeling sliding in

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and out of her velvet chasm, stabbing in and out like some ancient conqueror. She squeezed tight, pressing her breasts against his chest. She was a silky glove of pure delight. He'd imagined sex with vampires would be cold and clammy, but Cvetelina's body was pure heaven, her tight, hot pussy a channel of divine bliss, milking him toward the satisfaction he'd needed for years. She shifted her hips forward and rolled her pelvis toward his driving cock. Her entire body rocked under the power of his thrusts. Tiny cries started in time with each full purchase and built in volume and potency. The intensity climbed higher and higher. Her fingers gripped his back; he squeezed at her ass. Neither spoke. Neither urged the other on or needed urging. Neither needed to tell the other how good it felt, or be told. Neither needed to tell the other they were coming. He could feel her orgasm in the way her cries turned to tiny gasps and knew she could tell he was in the way he groaned as each deep thrust pounded home. The cum erupted out of him in long jets of mind-blowing relief. A bright curtain filled his vision, neither red nor white nor black, just blinding, and for a moment he felt nothing but the warm pussy clenching him like a tight fist. Her shrill cries petered off to gasps and, finally, a breathy sigh. The flow of his cum stopped, but the pleasure was still there, wracking him with ghostly surges like the strange visions left in one's eyes after the flash of a strobe. The knee she'd hooked over his hip slid down, but they remained locked together, one. She'd had her chin pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Now she eased back, eyes closed. She looked so sad. For a long moment they stood together, Robert still deep inside her, Cvetelina trembling in his arms. Then he realized it; the entire time he'd held her tight against this body, ear to ear, not once had it occurred to him that a vampire's fangs were less than an inch from his jugular.

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Chapter Six It had been centuries since Cvetelina had considered allowing a man between her thighs, even longer since she actually had. Robert Almaden wasn't your typical male. Maybe the pull she felt drawing her to him was from having saved his life. She didn't understand it. She'd saved other humans before and hadn't experienced a connection so powerful with them. She stood perfectly still as he removed his spent cock from her body. Even left her eyes closed. She wouldn't show the man how thoroughly he'd captivated her. “Jesus.” Fabric rustled as he zipped up. “I'm sorry.” Her eyes flashed open in time to see him sit on the edge of a narrow brick planter and drop his head in his hands. “I'm sorry,” he said again. “Why? Because you fucked a lesbian or because you fucked a vampire?” He shot a glare at her, but there was more than anger in his furrowed brow. She would swear it was shame. “Because I was so rough,” he snapped. “I don't treat women that way.” A strange zing ricocheted through her. He called her a woman. Not an undead thing. Not a bloodsucker. A woman. His shoulders sagged. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I'd be a real shit to blame it on the Tourin, but the truth is, I've acted like an ass the whole time I've been here, and I don't know the fuck why.” “I am a vampire,” she said softly. “I will heal.” He threw his hands open. “That doesn't make it right! Jesus, that almost makes it worse. You don't treat somebody bad just because you can get away with it.”

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“Robert—” “What the fuck am I going to do? I can't leave, and I can't stay.” “You can trust me.” He looked at her again, his eyes downright pitiful in their misery. “We must go. Dawn nears. I need shelter.” He blasted out a sharp breath, then pushed to his feet. “Yeah. Okay.” She took his elbow and urged him away from the shopping district. They could reach her townhouse on foot before dawn broke, if they hurried. He pulled his arm out of her grip, but then took her hand, lacing his fingers within hers. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just leave Matthew to his life.” “I didn't say that.” If his son was part of Viktor Vassilev's gang, he was either a vicious underling who chose his position, or he was forced to give allegiance, controlled by his basest needs. “He chose what he is. What he became.” Robert shook his head. “He told me so before he left.” “I said you should accept him for what he is. I didn't say you should leave him here.” She urged him faster, but Robert was dragging his feet, clearly consumed with his thoughts. Already the eastern horizon gleamed sooty gray. Cvetelina stopped. “Give me your phone.” He handed it over, and she dialed Stanimira at the townhouse. “Stanimira, do not lock the front door,” she said in Romanian. “I am on my way.” Stanimira gasped. “Mistress, you must hurry. The sun will rise in twenty minutes.” “I will be there in ten. And Stanimira, I will have a guest.”

*** They were jogging by the time the first pink streak emerged on the horizon. Low-lying clouds caught the rays and were gilded in gold at their edges. “I can run faster,” Robert offered, feeling a world of guilt that she might be caught in daylight because of him.

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“No need. We are here.” They had entered an upscale neighborhood. She skipped up the steps to a terraced Victorian-style townhouse with an impeccably ornate front. She twisted the knob and threw the door open but waited for him to enter first. Cvetelina turned to stare at the glimpse of sunrise a moment before following him inside. Robert felt a pang of regret. He'd treated her like shit, never thinking of the misery she might know being a vampire. A beautiful sunrise was a simple thing until you were denied it. She would never feel the magnificence of the morning sun on her face. A plump maid in a gray and white uniform rushed forward. She uttered something in rapid Romanian, clearly distressed at her employer's close call. “All in a day's work, Stanimira. What smells so wonderful?” Cvetelina shrugged out of her leather jacket and threw it onto a chair in the wide foyer. “Tocanita.” The elderly woman eyed Robert warily. “Meat stew and fresh biscuits,” she sounded off coldly in broken English. “Ah, wonderful. Stanimira makes the best stew in all of Romania.” “Ah, well, of course that isn't true,” the woman stammered in a friendlier tone, smoothing a loose lock back into her gray bun. “This is my guest, Robert Almaden. Make sure he gets whatever he needs. Right now all I want is a hot bath.” “Shall I draw it for you, mistress?” Cvetelina was already on the stairs leading away from the entry hall. “I will do it. See to Robert, please. Make him comfortable.” He watched Cvetelina's ascending figure. She was as leggy as a colt. The curve of nicelydefined calf muscles flexed with each step. He dragged his gaze away to find himself under Stanimira's disapproving scowl. The old woman whirled away. “Zees way.” He followed her through a maze of opulent rooms into a showplace kitchen. The last time he'd seen so much glass, steel, and granite, he'd been in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

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She set a spoon on a linen napkin on the bar side of a massive center island. “What kind of guest are you?” she asked with a narrowed eye. “Excuse me?” He slid onto the stool, mouth watering for the scrumptious smells that had grown stronger with each step. She spelled it out carefully. “Are. You. Agency. Man?” Stanimira waited, one hand balanced on her hip, clearly not going to feed him so much as a crumb until he provided a satisfactory answer. “I'm from the United States.” “Zat much I gazzer.” Ah. Smart cookie. “I'm here on personal business.” One eyebrow crept up. “I'm with the VTF.” She threw her hands in the air. “Ga! Podiavoletee. Cvetelina does not deserve zis harassment. I wish you would leave her alone!” “Now wait a minute. I haven't done anything to her. I just came here to ask for her help—” “Hmph. I know how you ask for help. Help, or five hundred years in dungeon!” “Nothing could be further from the truth, I swear. In fact, after Cvetelina located my son, I told her I was going to get him on my own. She wouldn't let me.” And saved me from yet a second demon who wanted to eat me for dinner. Stanimira eyed him suspiciously. “Your son, eh?” He nodded. His stomach grumbled loud enough to wake the dead. “He's here, in Bucharest.” “Hmm. Your son is vampire?” “Yes.” She seemed to warm to him slightly, but her suspicious glances were still full of disapproval. The old woman retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and ladled him a generous portion of stew. She placed two biscuits on a plate and set it all in front of him. “Your son is vampire in Bucharest, you have much work to cut out.”

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He dug into the stew. It was heavenly, tangy with herbs and spices and generous with thick chunks of tender beef, tomatoes, carrots, and onions. She placed a butter plate beside him. He paused long enough to slather the warm biscuits before stuffing one whole into his mouth. They were as light as a cloud. “Delicious, Stanimira.” “Hmph,” she mumbled again, but this time the corners of her mouth curved with pride. She snatched his almost empty bowl. “You eat more. Put some fat onto you. You Americans are so vain about your physique.” He gladly ate the healthy second serving she ladled into his bowl. “What do you know of the gangs in Bucharest?” “Very dangerous.” She busied herself tidying the kitchen. “No one who defy Viktor Vassilev live very long, I tell you zat.” Not a comforting thought. But there was more at stake than the need to reunite with Matty and convince him there was a home waiting for him in San Francisco. If there was one thing Robert had learned in his five years with VTF, it was that vicious gang leaders had to be stopped, human or vampire. “Have you worked for Cvetelina long?” “Too many questions.” She removed her apron. “Come. You go to room now. I show you zee way.” Without another word, she led him up a back stairway to a hallway of rooms. All doors stood open except one. Cvetelina's room, no doubt. Stanimira stopped by the first on the right. “You want more light, you open indoor shutters, but keep your door closed.” The room was eloquently decorated in rich burgundy and gold. He felt like he'd stepped backward in time. The incredible antique furniture could send appraisers into cardiac arrest. The king-size bed had intricately carved posters of polished mahogany. Robert wouldn't be surprised to learn a king or two had slept in it. It was covered with a plum velvet comforter matching the decor of the rest of the room, inlaid with gold thread and masculine patterns of stripes and squares. He showered in an elegant bath stall of two sides of earthy stone and two walls of glass. He could fit his entire bathroom into this shower stall. The warm water helped soothe some of the

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emerging aches and pains, but he knew when he awoke tomorrow he was going to feel like he'd been run over by a truck. He couldn't count himself so lucky as to be healed by Cvetelina twice. That bridge he'd probably burned. After drying himself, he donned the guest robe hanging on the back of the door. Brushing his teeth made him feel like a new man. He stood in the center of the room, staring at the large, empty bed. He then crossed the hall and knocked on Cvetelina's door. She knew it was him. The knob twisted, the door swung open, and he saw Cvetelina walking away, placing complete trust in him. A tingle of something unidentifiable zinged in his gut. She wore a lavender silk gown, more silver than purple. It whispered over every curve, hinting at the soft movements of her delectable derriere. She sat on the edge of her bed and picked up a glass of white wine, which she sipped before finally glancing at him. “Is your room satisfactory?” “No, it isn't. This one is much better.” He closed the door behind himself and sighed. “There I go, being an ass again.” She gave a tiny chuckle. He stopped in the center of the room and stared at the floor, as if the plush carpet fibers would give up the words that were so hard to find. “You came after me tonight because you knew there was a bounty on my head.” “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.” He tipped his head to one side in a gesture of sheepish agreement. “I told you, I'm an ass.” She stood and walked to a potted ivy, where she picked off a dry leaf. “I have heard such threats before. I wanted to see for myself. I never let you out of my sight.” “You followed the train?” “I boarded it between Roffeneu and Bardis.” She shot him a smile that went straight to his heart. “I can fly very fast.” “You knocked that ogre on his ass.” Now it was his turn to smile. Oddly, her heroics made him tingle with the first hints of erotic delight.

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The woman kicked ass, and it made him hot. “No doubt he will know it was me. He will not be very happy.” “I'm sorry.” “No need to be. He is the kind of menace that should be dealt with, more sooner than later.” “No, I mean…I'm sorry.” A band tightened around his chest. “I picked a lousy way to show my gratitude.” Her expression softened. “Agent Almaden, you did not do anything I didn't allow you to do.” He crossed the room and cupped her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft, and her hair tickled the back of his hand like the floaty tendrils on peacock feathers. “I'm sorry for the way I did it. Cvetelina, the next time I make love to you, I'm going to show you the tenderness you deserve.”

*** Cvetelina's heart caught. “Make love.” Had she heard him right? Didn't Americans use words like “boff” and “hump” and “hit that” and “bump uglies”? Making love was something married people did. Young people who adored each other, and old folks who'd shared a lifetime together. Making love was for people who cared about each other. She glanced down, then back up to his eyes. There was nothing of the vampire hater in them, or in his lips, which were suddenly upon hers. His kiss was needful yet tender, reigniting that flurry of passion she almost didn't believe had been real when he'd kissed her the first time. Oh yes, it certainly was real. He tasted spicy and primal and deliciously male. When had she ever thought of a man as delicious? Not in many years. Many hundreds of years. She took a step back. Turned slowly. Strode toward the bed, pushing the straps of her nightgown over her shoulders. Her silk chemise slid down her body and dropped into a puddle at

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her feet. She lit a candle on the bedside table and then turned out the lamp. Warm candlelight cast the room in an elegant amber glow. He remained in the center of her bedroom, watching her until she sat, and then lay back on her bed. Robert crossed the room and shrugged out of his bathrobe in a gracefully fluid movement. The candlelight flattered his muscular body, glinting against the mat of hair at his chest. She wasn't sorry for what Amelie had done to him; in her eyes, his ability to accept it made him a worthier lover. He slipped into the bed and stretched out beside her, seizing her kiss. One large palm covered her breast. Her body leaped to life, a million tiny explosions at every minute point his bare skin pressed against hers. Being touched by a man had so rarely been good she'd nearly forgotten how exquisite it could feel when it was good. He was different than her female lovers: rough, strong, hard, and unyielding against her femininity. She almost couldn't remember what it felt like to be small and delicate against a mate. Even though she was turned at only twenty-two years old, her centuries as a vampire made her feel much older. So often she was the experienced woman with young, innocent females. Amelie had been the first to show a bold side, yet at six hundred and twenty-three years old, Cvetelina still felt like the old and wizened dominant. Robert leaned against her, heavy and solid. He braced himself on one elbow. The other hand roamed and searched, gripping her thigh with urgency born of true need, though with a gentleness that told her he regretted the roughness he'd shown before. The roughness that excited her more than she dared admit. Few men had the nerve to demand of her. He broke from her lips to trail across her jaw and kiss her neck, where he flicked his tongue over the pulse of her jugular. He shifted, rising above her on all fours to continue kissing down, down, down, over her collarbone and into the little u-shaped divot at the base of her throat, onto her chest and between her breasts. Abruptly he cut to the right, kissing his way onto the curve in a slow journey toward her nipple.

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Cvetelina gasped when his lips closed over it. Her body arched with a primal, involuntary response. He pinched the needy berry between his lips and tugged left and right, left and right, until it popped free. “Pur cer, Robert!” Pure heaven. He moved to the neglected nipple, flicking it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. She dug her nails into his back. “You want me,” she whispered, excited by her own boldness. “You may have me.” “First I want to taste you,” he told her through a feathery kiss to the underside of her breast. Little puffs of his breath tickled and teased. He pecked soft, torturous kisses over her belly, making her skitter with surprise. Suddenly his tongue plunged downward into the crease of her pussy, the tip barely touching her clit. She arched her back and drew her legs wide, urging him to have his way with her. He laved upward with the flat of his tongue, then flicked it back down, this time teasing the hardening nub. He worked her labia wide with a lick here, a dart there, spreading her to achieve access to the deepest and most final barrier of her body. His tongue poked and prodded, spearing into her with the exquisite stabs of a sexual vanquisher. A finger joined the foray, sliding to the first knuckle. He gave gentle pressure downward as if opening her for his tongue. Too soon, both were gone. Cvetelina fought for clarity through dizzying tingles to find him moving against her, laying his body flat against hers. The magnificent crown of his cockhead touched her there. The soft pressure of a tiny thrust was brief, a polite request for permission. His whisper came at her ear. “I want to be inside you.” “Oh, yes,” she breathed out. Her body gave a moment's resistance. The familiar fear caused by long-ago horrors flashed, then was gone. He slid inside gently, slowly, and with such divine tenderness she knew only ecstasy. It was as if her body was made to fit him.

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He sank inside, reaching the hilt as the tip of his long cock met her inner barrier. He gloved himself within her and halted, his pleased sigh telling her he enjoyed being inside her body as much as she enjoyed having him there. Fingers traced her cheekbone. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, but then realized they had been open, she just hadn't been seeing. Only feeling. “You are so beautiful.” Now she did close them, tilting her head back as she arched her body and moved her hips, shifting that glorious mass inside her to touch places as she wanted them touched. He rolled his hips, prompted by her movements, complimenting them perfectly. “Oh, Robert. You feel so good.” He nuzzled her cheek, then took her earlobe between his teeth. “Tell me how you want it.” “Deep,” she breathed out. A spike of electricity zapped her. Yes. How I want it. “Slow.” “Deep and slow I can do, baby.” He was already moving deep and slow. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips. “If you can, stop when you begin coming. I want to feel you spilling inside me.” “All right. I'll try.” He groaned. “With you squeezing me like that, it shouldn't be a problem.” If he found her request strange, he didn't let it show. She dropped her legs wide as the first tremors of her own orgasm began to quake through her body. Delightful ripples started deep in her pussy and rolled outward, building into crashing waves. She lifted her hips, angling him deeper into her body and urging the pressure of his jabbing cock harder by tightening and releasing her muscles. The action worked on him, and soon Robert was breathing out agonized gasps on each breath. “Okay. Okay, baby. Ah, God. Yes.” His body trembled as he fought to stay his thrusting. She gripped and released, urging him to let loose inside her.

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Cvetelina closed off all other sights and sounds, concentrating on the spill of his seed. Strong streams jetted into her, splashing against her womb. She felt the warmth, its slick, gliding sensation against her sensitive walls, the heart of his essence joining with hers. She wasn't sure how long she lay there with her eyes closed, focused solely on the presence inside her body. His thumb stroking against her cheek brought her back to the here and now. “Thank you, Robert, for that.” He smiled. Laugh lines formed around his eyes. They had paled to a magical sky blue. “My pleasure, sweet thing.” So that's what his smile looks like. Something akin to happiness slid over her limbs and sent shivers across her flesh. Joy. I can see the daytime again, in his eyes. She shifted. Felt the heavy shaft still embedded deep. He was still inside her! Naughty man. “Will you be exiting my body soon?” The smile twinkled. “Would you like me to?” “No.” She slid her leg down until it was flat against the bed. “I have an idea.” A nudge urged him sideways, and together they rolled onto their sides. “We let nature take its course.”

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Chapter Seven Robert awoke hours later. His inner clock was all screwed up. The candle on the bedside table was burned down to a puddle of wax, a tiny speck of flame clinging to the wick that refused to go out. He lay beside Cvetelina, who slept on her back. The sheet pooled at her waist, exposing smooth and pale breasts, their dusky rose peaks rigid in the cool air. He circled one with a featherlight fingertip. She shifted and sighed, bending her arm to dangle her fingertips on his shoulder. “Who turned you, Cvetelina?” She remained so still for so long he thought she might still be asleep. “My husband,” she finally responded in a sleepy voice. “You were married?” The revelation brought him all the way awake. She nodded, shifting her head on the pillow to face him, but still she didn't open her eyes. “Did you choose it?” Now they did flash open. “No. I did not know he was vampire.” Robert frowned before he could catch it. “How could you not know your own husband was a vampire?” “I did not know what a vampire was. I was nineteen years old when I was married to him. The year was 1520. We did not have television back then, Robert. No vampire movies.” He let his eyes drift shut. What a jerk he must sound like. “I didn't realize.” Most children today see thirty different versions of Dracula by the time they're twelve. He'd been so desensitized by horror flicks that what he'd seen here in Romania almost seemed theatrical. Wholly unprepared, Cvetelina had probably experienced an awesomely horrifying introduction.

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“My father was a wealthy cobbler. He arranged the marriage to a boier, a nobleman. I met him only briefly before I became his bride, and after our marriage, he called upon me only when he needed me.” Needed her? Like to play hostess at dinner parties? Somehow Robert didn't think so. “I was to breed for him. He knew that he could not impregnate me, but for the first year of our marriage he used me anyhow, for appearance sake and to sate his lusty appetite.” Robert slid closer and snaked his arm around her middle. “I saw him rarely. Mostly he came to my bed in the night. My place was to embroider and share tea with the lady folk of my neighbors. Make sure the cook used fresh herbs. I was not allowed to read or learn. When I failed to bear, he began to bring in men to stud me.” “Jesus, Cvetelina. I'm sorry.” She rolled toward him and slid her hand over his bicep. “Robert. It was centuries ago. Had I not endured the hardships of my past, I would not be the woman I am today.” “Still…” He didn't know what to say to make it better. “No wonder you're a lesbian.” That isn't it. He cringed, but she laughed. “I am not lesbian. I am bisexual.” “I'm try-sexual,” he said to lighten the mood. “I'll try anything sexual.” She laughed again, and the spike of pain in his chest receded. “After two years of the other men, I still did not bear. He meant to kill me, but he was, how you say, high. It was by accident he turned me.” “I'm so sorry.” “Do not be. I do not regret what I am. I would be dead otherwise.” He gave a small nod, not knowing how to turn this awful conversation around. “The night he meant to kill me, a rival vampire attacked him, and by accident I ingested his blood. I was relieved to learn he had died. My husband was the man who developed Tourin. The vampire who killed him took my husband's books, and over the years, the drug has become what it is today. In a way, I feel that I am responsible for Tourin. That is why I forbid it in my house.”

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In the short time he'd been with her, he had learned Cvetelina possessed a deep honor and powerful integrity. Now he understood that she carried the burden of the terrible drug on her conscience. “It alters the DNA of its human users. The VTF is working on an antidote, but so far nothing has been found,” he said, thinking of Gladiolas, who had become permanently altered by the drug, and the slave girl in San Francisco who had died from the severe effects of withdrawal. “But like any powerful drug, no matter how destructive, it will always have appeal.” Regret hung heavily in her words. “Even you cannot deny the heightened sensations you experienced were incredible.” He took a deep breath. “You're right.” “I hated to see what it did to sweet Gladiolas, but there was nothing I could do for her. If Spike had discovered I was undercover, he would have killed me.” And on top of the frightening task she'd had serving as a spy at the Palace, he'd been a cruel jerk to her. Add in the threat of prosecution for a job she'd been forced to take, and it equaled nothing less than pure terror. A rush of regret washed over Robert that left him feeling sick to his stomach. Thank God she'd survived. Somehow, after these mere days with her, he felt a connection to this woman he'd never know for another person before, vampire or other. “I comforted her in the only way I knew how. I know you believe I raped her—” “No.” He pulled her closer. “I don't blame you for loving her. I'm glad she had you.” “Thank you, Robert. That means a lot to me.” “You miss her.” Her deep breath in and out caused her nipples to tickle his chest. “Of course I do. But she has two wonderful men to love her and care for her. It is a wonderful dream I wish to come true for every girl.” “What about you? Do you wish for two lovers to care for you?” He asked the question selfishly, hoping she would say one man was enough. God, what was with him? Two mind-blowing fucks and he was acting like a smitten teenager. His life was in San Francisco, and if luck would have it, caring for his sick son. Her life

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was here, with Amelie as her lover and that bulldog of a housekeeper keeping a protective, beady eye on her. Cvetelina gave a contented little laugh and kissed his chin. “It would appear I do have two lovers to care for me.” A quick knock preceded the door flying open. Amelie bounded into the room and leaped onto the bed, sending them all bouncing. “Oooh, this looks promising.” She cuddled up to Cvetelina and hugged her, sandwiching her between herself and Robert. “Are we three gonna do it?” “You naughty girl. Whatever am I going to do with you?” “I can think of a few choice things.” She smiled at Robert, making him nervous from the mischief shining in her eyes. Cvetelina shifted to collect Amelie closer. “When did you get here, love?” “I took the train down today. I knew you would need me. It's been more than twenty-four hours since you've fed.” Tendrils of fear curled around Robert's heart. “Do you two want to be alone?” Not only was this something private he felt he shouldn't see, it was something he didn't want to see. “Sure you don't want to watch?” “Amelie,” Cvetelina scolded lightly. “You're an incorrigible tease.” The mischief faded from Amelie's eyes. She held her arm out to Cvetelina, who took her by the wrist and guided it to her mouth. Robert caught a glimpse of Cvetelina's extended canines as she opened her mouth, then what happened next was hidden from his view as she pressed her lips against Amelie's wrist. Amelie breathed out a pleased sound. She settled on the pillow beside Cvetelina, and Robert watched her features relax. His pulse kicked into overdrive when Cvetelina opened her mouth again and he saw those long, lethal canines and the two neat holes they'd punched into Amelie's wrist. Cvetelina flicked her tongue over the wounds. Before his eyes, they healed away. Amelie responded with a dreamy smile.

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Cvetelina then pushed up onto her elbow, brought her own wrist to her mouth, and nicked open the flesh. A trickle of blood ran out, which she offered to the girl. Amelie took her mistress's wrist in both hands and greedily suckled. The blood bond. He'd heard of the exchange between vampire and servant, but this was the first he'd ever seen it. Sharing Cvetelina's blood would give Amelie extended life and keep her from getting sick. Amelie relaxed the grip holding Cvetelina's wrist to her mouth and sighed. Cvetelina cupped her cheek and leaned over to kiss her. It was slow and tender, and the most seductive exchange he'd ever seen between two women. “Are we gonna fuck now?” she asked. “I want to fuck.” “You really are a naughty girl,” Robert said, surprised he was able to cover the tremor in his voice. “Maybe later, if you behave yourself.” Cvetelina laughed. “I think he's still mad at me.” Amelie pouted. “Babe, I see you coming, I feel the urge to clench.” He flipped off the covers and stood. “I'm taking a shower.” He grabbed the robe but only held it in front of himself as he stalked to the door, covering a massive erection that astonished even him. “Don't drop the soap,” Amelie called after him.

*** Amelie had brought his suitcase. He wouldn't have to turn his underwear inside out after all. He showered and brushed his teeth, dressed in clean clothes, and then headed downstairs to the main parlor. He was in the rear archway when he heard the doorbell ring. The room had been set with platters of finger foods and a silver tub full of soda and bottled juice on ice. Cvetelina was pure sophistication in pressed ivory slacks and a shimmery white blouse. The loosely buttoned neckline was so low-cut it would have been outrageously sexy if it weren't for the thick choker of gold and sapphires that lent an air of elegance. Amelie looked like a southern belle in a fluttery peach summer dress with pale pink flowers. “What's going on?”

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Before she could answer, stern Stanimira escorted four men inside. “Robert, these are friends of mine. I've asked for their help.” They weren't vampires. One had a subtle sunburn across his nose and cheeks from wearing sunglasses on a hot day. The tallest of the bunch strode over and kissed Cvetelina lightly on the cheek. “Lina. It's been too long.” “Nik, this is Robert Almaden. He's with the America-based Vampire Task Force. Robert, Nikolay Stoyanov.” The man offered a hearty handshake. “You're Guardians,” Robert realized aloud. They all wore the trademark leathers of the Guardian warriors, and Nikolay had a sixteen-inch blade strapped to his thigh. One of his associates wore a leather scabbard over his shoulder that held what looked like a genuine medieval broadsword. “You're friends of Lina's?” “Don't be so surprised,” Cvetelina said with a hint of humor. “Do all Americans hate policemen?” He felt foolish. “Uh, no, but…never mind.” He focused on the tall man before him. “I met a few of your counterparts in San Francisco. Molin Rendall's troop. Fine men.” “Ah yes. His is one of the first clans, originated in Plantaganet's court.” He gestured toward his men. “This is Helmich Gund, Vladimir Gentchev, and Emil Bolincheck.” “Please everyone, sit.” Cvetelina urged them to the plush leather chairs. Robert watched her with uncertainty brewing like storm clouds in his gut. “Nik's team is heading a task force to stop the growing wave of violence by Viktor Vassilev's gang,” she explained, then turned her attention to the Guardian leader. “Robert's son is a low-ranking member within Viktor's organization.” Robert bristled. He'd hoped to keep this quiet. “And you believe Viktor is behind the bounty on Robert's head,” Nikolay prompted. “Last night, Robert was attacked by Krassimir Molinayov. I heard him confess he was working for a reward.”

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“Ah, Molinayov.” Nikolay sounded amused. “Viktor's favorite but not-so-smart henchman.” “And you still have your head.” Vladimir grinned. “I'm impressed.” “If it was Krassimir Molinayov,” Helmich interjected with a grimace, “you can bet Viktor is behind it somewhere down the line.” It hardly mattered to Robert. It was no secret his agency wasn't as friendly toward vampires as the Guardians apparently were, and any rogue vampire would gladly kill a VTF man if they got the chance. But what made his tension coil into a tightly wound knot was the knowledge these men were working a sting on Viktor's gang. While the Guardians weren't hateful toward vampires, he knew their assault teams were swift, powerful, and effective. He didn't want Matthew getting caught in the middle of anything that might explode around him. “Look, whatever you have planned, let me extract my son first.” Cvetelina looked at him pleadingly. “Robert, it's too dangerous for you to go anywhere near Matthew or Viktor. You'll be killed on sight. Let these men do their job.” He sat for a moment, then shook his head. “I've seen what your holy quills do to a vampire. I can't let that happen to Matt.” “Agent Almaden, every effort will be taken to protect your son. All vampires who surrender are given a fair trial. It's what we want for all of them. Trust me when I say we don't want to have to destroy any vampire.” He took a deep breath. Robert had nothing but respect for these men, and he was awed by their abilities. But he was on a different side of the fence now. “He's just a kid. He thinks he's smart, but he doesn't understand the big picture.” “Do you have a photo of him?” Nik asked. Amelie went to the bureau and retrieved it. She offered a sympathetic smile as she handed Robert the photo. He turned and offered it to the Guardian leader. “He was turned when he was nineteen. Five years ago.” Nikolay examined the photo. “You don't look old enough to have a twenty-four-year-old son.”

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“I was eighteen when my girlfriend got pregnant. I was headed off to the military, so we got a quickie marriage. Two years later, she was in the process of divorcing me when her family was killed by a tornado. It hit quick. The family was crushed in their collapsed house. They didn't even have time to get to the cellar. They found Matthew in his crib, an old, steel antique, almost two days later.” Robert ran a hand through his hair. Jesus. This had gone from bad to worse. Things couldn't end this way. “Not even two years old, and he survived against such horrible odds. We've both been through a hell of a lot. I raised him alone. He was a damn good kid. Got good grades. He got into some trouble in high school, but all kids do. He was accepted into San Francisco Law School and was doing good there. Then some fucking vampire lured him.” He spat the last words, too angry to consider how they would hurt Cvetelina. “Many young people are caught up in things they don't understand,” Helmich said. “But you have to remember, he chose it. No person is turned against their will. Not anymore.” Robert scowled. “Fuck that. He was conned. Nobody would choose that life.” “Reason aside, I understand where you're coming from,” Nikolay assured him in a soothing voice meant to keep the situation calm. “But if he fights us, we're going to have to immobilize him.” “What the hell does that mean?” He shot a glare at the Guardian. “Turn him into a blue fireworks spray?” “Robert,” Cvetelina cut in. “These men are only doing their job. Think of how you'd act if you were in their shoes.” “Jesus.” He shoved back in the leather chair. He knew how he would act if he were in their shoes. There was a time when he would have killed any vampire on sight. He looked at Cvetelina, and his heart softened. Thanks to her, he saw things differently now. He had so much to be grateful to her for, but mostly, he was glad he'd found her friendship. She'd lifted a shadow of loneliness from his heart. “Agent Almaden, we don't use the quills except as a last resort,” Vladimir told him. “We're testing a new tranquilizer that's had satisfying effects. Very few vampires can transform so monstrously they don't succumb to the sedative.”

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“A quill is only used if a Guardian or a human is mortally threatened,” Nik added. Robert hadn't seen or heard from Matty in five years. There was no telling how he'd changed or what he was capable of now. “If he's tranqed, then what?” “He'll be arrested and tried.” And possibly executed. “Give me a few days. That's all I'm asking. If I haven't located him and convinced him to come home with me, I'll step aside.” Vladimir opened his mouth to speak, but Nikolay held up his hand. “I'll give you one week.” The leader's brief smile vanished. “I trust your reputation, Agent, that you won't do anything to hinder or threaten my operation.” A flood of relief sloshed over Robert. One week. He couldn't have hoped for a more generous deal. But was it enough time?

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Chapter Eight Cvetelina let out the breath she'd been holding when she saw Robert at a quiet corner table at the outdoor café, waiting for her just as he'd promised he would. She'd left home far earlier than she should have, shielding her eyes against the purple glow still burning in the sky at dusk, worried she would find his gored carcass in some dank alleyway if she was even a moment too late. The sight of him gave a kick to her heart that it shouldn't. She cared too much about this vampire hunter. The level of her feelings went far deeper than not wanting to see him gutted and torn by some horrendous assassin beast. She cared about any human that way. But Robert… She loved to see his eyes light up when his gaze landed on her. She was sure she wasn't imagining the sparkle in those blue eyes when he looked at her. Each moment away from him she spent longing to feel his hands sliding over her body. To drown in the tenderness of his kiss. No man had ever touched her so gently. No man had ever eased himself inside her body so achingly slowly, caring only about her sensations, concerned for her comfort and pleasure alone. A tingle rushed across her skin as his gaze settled on her and warmed. She crossed the tiny patio and sat in the café chair across the romantic table from him. The waiter stepped up. “Mocha chocolate,” she requested. Robert reached for her, and she took his hand across the table. “Any word?” He glanced down, and the sadness in his eyes tore at her heart. “You really love him, don't you?” “I always have, even when I couldn't accept what he'd become.” His hand squeezed, and he managed a timid smile. “But you've shown me some vampires aren't so bad.” She swallowed past soreness in her throat.

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“In fact, some are downright delicious.” She chuckled, trying to hide the surge of achy emotion he stirred in her. “No problems today?” “I didn't expect any during daylight hours.” “Don't be so sure. There are humans with as much loyalty to Viktor as vampires.” Loyalty or fear, she thought privately. The waiter served her mocha. Robert updated her as she sipped. Without having been with him, she could only guess at the honesty or deceit behind the answers, all of them no, he'd received. “We should enter the subway.” He raised his brows. “You mean the tunnels? I thought you felt that was too dangerous.” She shrugged. “It is time to broaden our search.” He frowned and glanced away for a long moment. “I should have listened to you. This is probably a waste of time. If the vampires know I'm here, then Matthew also knows to lay low.” “You are just frustrated.” She gave him another smile, hating to see him losing hope. “There is a group of independent young vampires who live underground. Rebels, if you will. They don't defy Viktor, but they don't bow to him either. Perhaps we will find Matthew in their midst.” She hoped they did. He would be easier to convince out of Bucharest if he wasn't one of Viktor's direct minions. And whoever we question, I will know if what they tell me is truth or lies. There were certain perks to being a six-hundred-year-old vampire. “Come. I show you the way.”

*** Cvetelina knew there were vampires in the tunnels. The proof was the absence of even a single vagrant. Yet after almost four hours of searching, it seemed their efforts were for naught. The trains would stop in an hour, and they'd be forced to travel from station to station on foot. She knew the idea didn't sit well with Robert, but he would do it if it meant finding his son.

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They reached the last, northernmost station at Laromet and disembarked the train at a nearly empty station. Robert stared into the darkened tunnel, and she answered his silent question. “The trains switch tracks farther in. There is small storage yard, but it is patrolled by guards because of graffiti vandals. We should be safe. You wish to search?” “You have leu for small food?” a timid voice asked in choppy English. Cvetelina turned around. A young girl sat against the wall holding a puppy. The girl bristled. Cvetelina detected the surge of adrenaline and leap in her heart rate. She was human, and for some reason the sight of Cvetelina caused the burst of emotion. “I know you,” she said in Romanian. “How do you know me?” Cvetelina asked her. “What? What are you saying?” Robert asked in an urgent voice. “Everybody knows you.” The girl drew her lips together in a humorless smile. “Who's that? Is he a vampire too?” “No.” A moment of silence passed as the girl considered her. “She said 'vampeer.' Does she know anything?” Robert prodded, impatient. “She says she recognizes me,” Cvetelina told him in English. The girl glanced over Cvetelina. “Pretty shoes. I bet they were expensive. I bet I could eat for three months on what you paid for those shoes.” Cvetelina opened her purse and took out forty lei. She held the bills up and watched the girl's pupils dilate. “Give me the picture,” she said to Robert, but kept her eyes on the girl. “What is your name?” “I don't do things kinky.” “That is quite a name.” The girl frowned but held whatever smart reply was hanging on the tip of her tongue, hoping for the forty lei. “Amanda. But only the politia call me that. My friends call me Mandy.”

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“Mandy, have you seen this boy?” Cvetelina knelt and held out the picture. Mandy's eyes fell on it, and another surge of adrenaline made her skin glow pink. She stared at the photo for a few moments as her heart beat a rapid staccato, no doubt thinking up a lie. “Do you know that a vampire can sense your emotions?” She looked up at Cvetelina with such intense fear it nearly broke her heart. “Do not be afraid of me, mea dulce.” She handed over the money. Mandy reached for it hesitantly. Her eyes slid back to Cvetelina, softened with an amount of humility, and she swallowed. “What do you want with Matthew?” “She knows him,” Robert breathed out. “This man is his father. He misses him very much.” She looked at Robert. Her expression grew wary again. “Da. I see your, um”—she gestured toward the black-and-white in Cvetelina's hand—“fotografie.” “How do you know Matthew?” Cvetelina asked her pointedly while trying to keep her tone gentle. Mandy handed back the photo and eyed Robert with a look of contempt. “He's my boyfriend.” “He doesn't take very good care of you if you have to beg in the subways.” “I take care of myself.” “We need to find him. His father wants to speak to him.” “His father wants to cure him,” Mandy spat. “I know all about what he tried to do.” Robert must have sensed she was getting nowhere. He knelt in front of Mandy. “Sweetheart,” he started in a gentle voice. “When my son first became a vampire, I wanted to find a cure, but only because I loved him. What parent wouldn't? I couldn't accept what he was, and we fought. He stormed out in a rage, and I told him to keep going. I was a fool, and I've suffered because of it.” Cvetelina wasn't sure how much of it Mandy understood, but the defensive scowl slowly melted away from her features.

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“I just want to tell him I'm sorry and I love him. I do want to ask him to come home, but not to try and cure him or make him live in isolation. And if he refuses, I'll accept that. But I need to hear it from him. Please, tell me where I can find him.” The girl looked at Cvetelina. She provided a translation. When she finished speaking, Mandy thought it over for a long moment. It seemed she wanted to help but was afraid to reveal anything. “I do not know where he is now,” Mandy said in Romanian. “But I think I will see him soon. I will tell him what his father said.” Cvetelina translated again, and Robert poised on the brink of protest. He relaxed and nodded, clearly deciding it was pointless to try and press further. He looked back at Mandy and held out his hand. Reluctantly she grasped it. “Thank you, Mandy.” She nodded. “Come back tomorrow,” she managed in English. “Maybe I have seen him then.” Robert stood, and Cvetelina took his hand. They headed up the steps to the station's main level to cross to the southbound side. “She knows where he is.” “Probably,” Cvetelina agreed. He stopped and faced her. “Should we follow her?” Cvetelina felt the prickly sensation of negative presences. There were vampires around. Bad vampires. She took his hand and urged him to the opposite steps. “Do you wish to force his hand? I don't think it would be wise. Let her deliver the message. See what happens. If she says no, we follow her another time.” “I only have a few days before the Guardians lay siege.” “You do not know that.” “They all but admitted it. The only reason they didn't tell us what they had planned was they were afraid we'd somehow spill it.” When they descended the steps to the southbound tracks, the girl was gone.

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“It looks like your message will be delivered sooner than you think.” “Do you think she'll show tomorrow?” Robert asked. Cvetelina could hear the worry in his voice, and her heart went out to him. “For another forty lei, yes, I think she will. The question is, will Matthew show up with her?”

*** It was official; he was on Romanian vampire time. A glowing orange sunrise peeked at the city, knifing across the horizon's edge with spears of red that silhouetted the ancient cityscape like an impressionist's painting. Queer energy buzzed in Robert's veins. Matthew was in Bucharest. He had a girlfriend. A human girlfriend. What had transpired between him and his son hadn't caused Matthew to hate humans. He knew that Matthew, like every vampire, depended on human blood to survive, but his relationship with Mandy said he didn't use slaves, and he hoped that further indicated Matt didn't travel in Viktor's circles. From what Robert had learned, Viktor Vassilev was as powerful and vicious, if not more so, than the San Francisco Palace owner, Spike. But Spike had been a nobleman and an entrepreneur of what was considered by vampires to be a luxury resort. Viktor was more your nasty, racketeering type, the vampire mafia don of Romania. It pleased him to know Matthew had someone like Mandy, if what she claimed was indeed true. She was a cute enough girl for a street urchin, with wide blue eyes and dark blonde hair that would probably take on some shine if she had a bath. Robert fixed himself a roast beef sandwich, half expecting dour Stanimira to catch him raiding her kitchen. He then helped himself to an exotic concoction much like potato salad but with a few extra herbs, mushrooms, and pearl onions, ingredients not usually found in your typical all-American potato salad. Still, it was tasty enough to sneak a second helping and went down nicely with a chilled bottle of Silva original. The Romanian beer was light and sharp, with a full-bodied head. Of course, the food also went down better without being reprimanded for raiding the old woman's kitchen.

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He strode upstairs to find Cvetelina's door ajar. She sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. She wore a sexy, snow-white nightgown of shiny material that had a lace border at the top. It was dangerously low-cut, showing the plunge of cleavage and the tease of erect nipples only barely concealed at the edge of the lace. “Is Amelie about?” he asked. She smiled at him in the reflection. “Thinking about cashing in on her promise?” “No.” He sauntered into the room and closed the door with his foot. “Just wondering if I get to be alone with you.” She set down her brush and stood. “I think I can fit you into my schedule.” He stepped up close and took her by the hips. She rested her arms over his shoulders, swaying with him as he rubbed his eager penis against her. “What else do you think you can fit me into?” Damn. He was flirting like a randy twentyyear-old kid again. “Funny you should mention it,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt. “I was wondering that very thing.” She pushed it over his shoulders and tugged the shirttails out of his trousers. He helped her by shrugging it off his arms. Robert nearly swallowed his tongue when she dropped to her knees and grabbed the buckle of his belt. She had his pants undone and his boxers pushed over his hips in the blink of an eye. “I believe turnabout is fair play,” she said, glancing up at him. “You tasted me. I want to taste you.” “Cvetelina, are you sure?” God, shut up, fool! his cock screamed at him. She grasped his shaft in her hand, and every cell in his body jumped to full attention. Her small fist closed around the girth and pulled his saluting organ toward her mouth. Already a drop of precum glistened at the slit. He was so engorged the crown bloomed purple. “Such a pretty color.” She licked the curve with the flat of her tongue, a first, wary taste. Holy shit. Was she for real?

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She parted her lips and cautiously drew him into her mouth. It was all he could do not to thrust. She drew her lips back up the length, then sucked nearly all of him into her mouth, as though having realized she could do this and do it well. Hell, she did it really well. Oh Jesus. Holy crap. Her hands found his ass and smoothed circular caresses. She shoved his pants farther down as she dragged her pretty lips up the length of his shaft. She then slid her hands back up his thighs as she sucked him deep into her throat. The combined sensation was mind-blowing. “Oh, Cvetelina. Oh God!” “Good?” she stopped only long enough to ask. “Fuck, yes.” Better than fucking good. He had to concentrate on holding back, if only not to shoot his load ten seconds into it. “You're going to make me come.” “That's the idea, sweetheart.” She sucked him in again with a noisy slurp. “I didn't think you'd want to…I mean, now. In your mouth!” She squeezed her fingers into his cheeks and sucked all of him deep, then grasped the shaft with her fist on the upward draw of her lips. He pumped once on her next swallow. Boiling heat rolled from the base of his spine into his balls, and his jizz erupted. She worked his cock with both hands, milking him into her mouth. She never broke contact once, swallowing every drop. Dear, sweet Jesus. Cvetelina cradled him gently in her mouth as he came back down to earth. He held onto her shoulders to keep himself steady. “Wow.” She eased his spent organ out of her mouth and into her cupped palms like a wounded baby bird. “Are you sure you're a lesbian?”

Cvetelina smiled as she stood and gently let go of his cock. “Sweetheart, you said I was a lesbian.”

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She took his hand and led him toward the bed. He shuffled along in his dropped trousers, needing no urging. “So when you told me that in San Francisco…” “Correction. I did not say I wasn't. I was angry you would not let me help you find Gladiolas when she was lost.” He tugged at her hand, stopping her. She turned, and Robert hauled her against his body. He slipped his fingers under the straps of her nightgown and pulled them over the curve of her shoulders. “I acted like a dick. Let me make it up to you now.” Tingles started low in her belly. There was a certain amount of fear at being undressed by a man, but she trusted Robert, and that fear translated into excitement. “With your dick?” “With whatever you want.” “I want your dick.” He laughed. “Good. Because I want you to want my dick.” “How nice. We are on the same page.” Robert stroked down her arms, following the path of her fallen straps. First her breasts were revealed. He cupped them both and squeezed, lifting slightly as if to test their weight. The silk drifted down and hung at her hips before sliding all the way off her body. Robert toed himself out of his shoes and kicked away the tangle of clothes piling around his ankles. “Thank you, Cvetelina.” “For what?” She eased backward toward the bed, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn't known in a long time. Her female relationships had always given her powerful love and intense physical pleasure, but the sweet indulgence of a good man was a rare and beautiful sensation she had thought she might never know again. “For giving me back my son.” “Robert, we don't have him back yet.” “But I do.” He placed her hand against his heart. “In here. Thanks to you. It's not a battle anymore. You've shown me…”

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“That vampires aren't the enemy?” She sat and then lay back, pulling him down with her. Robert slid close, and she drew a light sheet over them. “You showed me what a fool I was.” She cuddled close. “Ah, sweetheart. All men are fools.” He laughed, and she enjoyed the way he tucked her into his arms and they shared one pillow. “You know…” She reached down and grasped his member. Already Robert was almost fully erect again. He sucked in a soft breath, and she felt him growing in her hand. “I wasn't entirely honest.” His eyes drifted shut, and he murmured a response. She loved the way he clearly loved being touched by her. “I don't think you have a small penis.” “Ah.” She threw the sheet off them. “In fact, I think it is very nice and big.” “Oh yeah?” She pushed up onto her elbow and urged him onto his back. His eyes flew open. She straddled his hips and rose upright. With one hand, she reached between her legs and gently urged his now fully engorged cock skyward. She angled her hips to bring the tip to the divot marking the entrance of her body. “Almost too big.” “Mmm.” “I think I will need some more practice.” “Yeah.” “That is all right with you?” She sank onto him, swallowing the bulging crown into her body. Robert gasped. “Hell yeah.” Already the thickness stretching her was a familiar and longed-for sensation. But only this man, she thought. He does not realize how much he's done to help me, as well.

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Even Maturo, the stable boy she'd taken guiltlessly as lover when her husband Guenko had tossed her to other men, had not brought the emotional delight she felt with Robert, nor had the physical sensations been so magnificent. Then, she'd only hoped to spite Guenko and root the seed of the man of her choosing. Maturo had been sexy and muscular, a Chippendale-worthy hunk by today's standards, but she hadn't cared for him on an emotional level. Not like she cared for Robert. He was a more mature man, somewhat jaded by what he'd seen, yet he had abandoned his preconditioned assumptions about vampires and allowed himself to love her. A rush of something foreign and hot spiked in her chest. Did Robert love her? Do I love him? He took her by the hips. She settled down onto him, drawing the full length of his shaft all the way inside her body. His brows knit in rapture, and he issued a low groan. The bulk stretching her in all directions started waves of tingles rolling through her, but Cvetelina guarded herself against mistaking it for love. Love was different. I enjoy the length of his cock deep inside me, but what I love is the sight of his face contorted in utter delight. I enjoy the feel of his skin against mine, but what I love is the way he wraps his muscled arms around me so protectively. I enjoy the feel of his fingers roaming and prodding my most private places, but what I love is the gentle strength and the care bestowed by those hands. I like the way his eyes squeeze shut when he's about to come, but what I love are the laugh lines around them when he smiles. I do love him. The realization struck hard, and the physical pleasure magnified a thousandfold. Seconds later, the emotional pain nearly blinded her. He is human. I am a vampire. Even if he were to love me back, his lifespan will be like a blink in mine. Would his loss be too much to bear? It doesn't matter. I love him. I wouldn't voluntarily give up a single minute with him.

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She rose, sliding her body up his long shaft to the tip, then swallowed him back in her body. Sparks erupted. His fingers dug into her hips. She rode him faster, humping harder with each downward plunge. He thrust up into her, matching her strokes in perfect symmetry. Absolutely, utterly perfect. She used the strength of her thighs to do most of the work, delighted to feel his climax nearing. “God, Cvetelina.” “Good, my sweet?” “Shit, oh fuck yes!” She laughed at his enthusiasm. His body gave off a sudden surge of adrenaline uncharacteristic to orgasm. Fear. It hit her senses like an explosion of magician's powder. She looked down to find his eyes wide, his lips parted on a silent gasp. Only then did she realize she'd drawn out her fangs.

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Chapter Nine His heart nearly stopped in his chest. Damn, her fangs were…fucking sexy as hell. Her expression dimmed. He realized he must look horrified. He couldn't help it; he was so stunned. But still…damn. “Do it.” His words almost sounded like they were spoken by someone else. She stared down at him, and her body slowed, then stopped. He dug his fingers into her hips and urged her to keep humping him. “Do it,” he repeated. “While I'm coming.” She bent forward, placing her hands by his shoulders, and resumed that magnificent motion with her whole body. Her sweet pussy dragged up and down his cock, silky with her honey. This fantastic sex, coupled with his fear, had him reeling. His balls drew tight, and boiling heat raced up his shaft. He planted his heels and gave a fierce thrust into her soft center. “Now!” She bent her head. Warm breath fanned his neck an instant before two pinpricks of heat pierced his flesh. The pain was brief, almost nothing. He felt her lips clamp down, sucking against his flesh, and his senses reeled. He thrust up into her as incomprehensible pleasure sped through his veins. He could feel her mouth moving as he jarred her body with his pounding hips, but she held fast, drinking deeply of his blood. Colors began swirling through his vision. Yellow, orange, green, purple, blue, silver, gold, bright white. His cum erupted like a blasting volcano, and his cock jerked inside her with the sheer force of the most powerful orgasm he'd ever known.

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He didn't feel her fangs withdraw. He might not have even been conscious. His vision cleared to find Cvetelina leaning away from him. Her eyes were sad. It was regret, he realized. As if she feared they had ruined something that had, until now, been wonderful. He felt relaxed, almost dizzy, as if he'd had too much wine. He didn't try to move. There was no fear, no revulsion, nothing at all that he'd expected. Hell, a week ago, he never would have even shared coffee with a vampire. None of this was expected. Cvetelina rose, lifting her body high to climb off what he discovered was a still-raging hard-on. She eased down beside him, unsure. Robert felt like a fool. There had to be something he could say to ease her worry. But nothing would come. Cvetelina brought her wrist to her mouth. She kept her gaze locked with his as she nicked the flesh. A trickle of blood ran, bright and glistening, in his peripheral vision. She moved her arm toward him, and he took it, never breaking eye contact. Only when he brought her wrist to his mouth did he let his eyes drift shut. Her blood was as rich and coppery as he'd expected, but there was a sweetness to it that surprised him. It was satisfying, refreshing, and renewed energy surged into him with every drop. God forgive him, but it made him crave her like the scent of a grilling steak made him hungry. When she pulled her arm away, he opened his eyes. Hers still held that pitiful sadness. “Come here, you.” He drew her close. The tension in her body evaporated. She settled against him with obvious relief and let him pull the sheet up over them. They lay in the near darkness for long, quiet moments, but he knew she was still awake. He couldn't sleep either. He was too buzzed—whether from the sex, her blood, or the fact he had overcome his worst fear and let a vampire bite him, he didn't know. She snuggled closer, one arm around his rib cage, her leg over his thigh. Her silky hair draped over his shoulder. He could think of no place he'd rather be.

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“Robert. Are you all right?” “No,” he said. She tensed and lifted her head. “I think I'm falling in love with you.” Cvetelina settled against him with a sigh. “Then we suffer from the same problem.”

*** Only a single candle flickered in the darkened room when he awoke to Amelie's timid voice calling for Cvetelina. “Here, sweet.” Footsteps padded across the thick carpet. Cvetelina shifted, and Robert let her go. “The lightning woke me.” “You don't want to be alone in the storm.” “I never want to be alone.” He kept his eyes closed, feeling Cvetelina wriggle the bed slightly as she reached out her hand. “Come.” “Thank you, Mistress.” The bed dipped, and Cvetelina shifted again, welcoming Amelie. “No thank-yous, my sweet. You will always have a place with me.” A sigh sounded, followed by what he suspected was a soft kiss. Robert eased onto his stomach and slipped one arm up under his pillow. He felt a plush bottom come to rest against his hip. “Have you fed?” “Mmm. I have.” Robert could tell by the vibrations and the locations of the women's whispers that Cvetelina had rolled Amelie between them. The younger girl's long blonde hair slid against his side. “Can I serve you in some way?” “My little love. I think I would like to serve you instead.”

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He remained motionless, even though their conversation had brought him bright awake. Then he remembered Cvetelina could sense him. He opened his eyes to find Amelie lying on her back beside him. Cvetelina pushed up on her elbow. “What would Amelie like?” she asked in a teasing voice. “Whatever you”—the other girl turned her head and looked at him—“or our guest would like to do to me.” Cvetelina's dancing green eyes sparkled as they found his. “I think my sweet lesbian wants to feel a man.” “Not any man,” Amelie said quickly. “Only Robert.” Criminy. He was old enough to be her father. “I think I'll just watch, thanks all the same.” “Amelie, tell Robert why there were restraints on my bed at the manor.” Amelie smiled bashfully. “They were for me. I like to be tied up.” Robert had to shift his body as his cock grew like a self-inflating mattress. “And then what?” he asked before he could stop himself. Don't open your mouth again. You are not fucking this little waif. “And then I'm helpless.” Something told him Amelie was never helpless. The pretty girl's sexuality was potent, her charm powerful. She could mesmerize to the point of absolute control. Robert swallowed past a dry throat. “Oh, we're making him uncomfortable.” The mirth faded from Cvetelina's features. “Robert, this is who I am. If you want any of me, you have to have all of me.” He relaxed on the pillow. “I understand.” She turned her attention to Amelie. “Just as you must understand, love, that to be with me you must also accept all of me. I want Robert in our bed.” Amelie smiled. “I knew that the minute you brought him home.” “You don't have to allow him inside your body, but you must accept that I want him inside mine.” Robert was about to spontaneously combust.

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“Thank you, Mistress. I knew you wouldn't force me. But I want him too.” “Look, I can put a stop to this right now. I'm not going to touch you, Amelie. You make me feel like an old perv.” He glanced up to Cvetelina. “One woman is all I need.” He would swear her eyes turned shiny. “You're sweet, but I'm afraid I need more than that from you.” Her smile grew, and the delight in her eyes sparkled. “You must accept Amelie if you are to accept me. She is my companion. She shares my bed and my life. If you are to share it too, then you must also share her.” He rolled on to his side and hugged the pillow against his chest. What man wouldn't jump at this unbelievable offer? But something about it felt wrong. He needed Cvetelina to understand she was all he wanted, and he wanted her completely. “You don't have to penetrate her, but you mustn't be afraid to touch her.” “Um… Okay.” Lordy, what was he saying? As if it would be a chore to indulge in that sweet young girl. Strangely, though he recognized her pixielike perfection and a small attraction to her waiflike beauty, he didn't really want to be with her. Cvetelina's smile was what drew warmth into his chest. Her luscious curves were what made him barely able to restrain his hands. Just looking at her across a room, he couldn't keep from thinking about the divine pleasure he found plunging into her sweet center. I must really be in love. Cvetelina took his wrist and brought his hand to Amelie's body. She placed it over the girl's breast, and Robert eased it down as softly as he could. Amelie tugged the strap of her toga from her shoulder, dragging away the fabric separating their skin. His hand was suddenly directly against the pert little mound. Her beaded nipple pressed into the center of his palm. She was warm and as soft as velvet. He stroked downward. Her tiny mewl excited tingles across his skin. “All right, little vixen. Can you take what you dish out?” “What do you wish to do?” Cvetelina asked for her. “Not me. You. I told you, I'm just going to watch.” Outside, thunder rumbled.

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“You had a nice collection of toys at the manor house. I assume you have a backup supply here.” Without a word, Cvetelina rose and strode naked to the armoire across the room. Damn, she had a nice ass and legs a mile long. Her auburn hair danced in bed-messy curls around her shoulders. Bed-messy hair made by me. She returned with a box of dark burl similar in size and shape to the one at the manor house. Cvetelina turned it and flipped open the lid to show him the contents. Four dildos were set in molded forms lined with white satin. “This is her favorite,” she said, pointing to a long, smooth, clear Pyrex dildo. He shook his head. “That one.” He pointed to a light blue rubber thing with two ribbed columns, one shorter and narrower than the other, connected to a handle at the base. “It's called a double penetrator,” Cvetelina told him with a secretive twinkle in her eyes. Amelie turned to him and frowned. “If I do this, will you finally stop being mad at me?” He grinned. “I'm not mad, sweetheart. I just don't want to be the only one around here who's been poked in the ass.” Cvetelina removed the jiggly thing and held it up. The thin light from the one remaining candle gleamed like a ribbon of gold on its shiny surface. “Is okay, darling?” “Definitely.” Amelie turned a smug look on him. “I don't have a problem with it. In fact, I rather like it.” Cvetelina set the box down and knelt on the bed. She tsk-tsked with her tongue. “Don't fault him, my sweet. You know straight men are hung up on that sort of thing.” “Speaking of which,” Robert interjected, feeling the need to defend himself, “I got the impression you meant there would be equality in this bed.” Cvetelina cast him a sly smile before turning to the bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lubricant from the drawer. “All in good time, Agent.” She squirted a thick stream onto the longest dildo and made a seductive show of smearing it liberally over both heads with her fingertips. “Don't just lie there. Help her to get in the mood,” she admonished gently.

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Amelie rolled against him and snaked her arms around his neck. She was kissing him full on the mouth before he even realized what was happening. He kissed her back, trying not to be insulting, but her kiss was nothing like Cvetelina's. He tasted her youth and inexperience in the way she smashed his lips apart and drove her tongue wildly inside his mouth. Still, there was something exotic and irresistible about her boldness and her obvious desire that made his cock jump up and take notice. She drew her leg up over his thigh, but she was caught in the sheet. He pushed her down with a hand on her shoulder, then tore the sheet off. She was still wearing that luminescent gown. He rose onto his knees and dragged it down her body. Amelie's naked flesh was exposed, inch by exquisite inch. Her Nordic skin had a milky white finish that contrasted with Cvetelina's honey golden Slavic heritage. Amelie's nipples were a pretty shade of soft pink. She was already aroused; the folds of her pussy bloomed like rose petals in the sun, and the hidden flesh glimpsed behind her blonde curls glistened with her nectar, as bright and pearly as the inside of a seashell. “She's lovely, isn't she?” Cvetelina said on a soft breath. “Beautiful,” he agreed. He tossed the garment aside. He didn't want to touch her. It almost felt like he was being unfaithful to Cvetelina by considering it. But Robert's hands found Amelie's thighs of their own accord. He slid upward, exploring the soft texture of her skin. Her legs were bare of any hair until the golden patch at the crook of her thighs that glistened like illuminated filament. She watched him with soft eyes heavy with arousal. He bent over her, sliding his hands onto her hips and down to her sides. “Are you certain you wouldn't rather fuck her instead?” He couldn't lie, not with the raging erection jutting from his groin an obvious banner proclaiming his need to rut. “I'd rather fuck you,” he answered idly. His hands drifted upward, cupping each of Amelie's pert breasts. He dragged his fingertips onto the small curves, slowly and lightly, until they came to a pinch at her budding nipples.

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Amelie sighed and arched her back, letting her eyes drift shut. Robert gave a gentle tug on each, pulling left, then right. She furrowed her brow and mewled. The sound was almost his undoing. After sharing Cvetelina's blood, he had so much energy he felt as if he could spend a month fucking, sans sleep. He didn't know how he was resisting the nubile blonde goddess. It had to be his constant need to be inside Cvetelina, to explore every inch of her, that kept him in control. Opposite Amelie, Cvetelina leaned over and slid her moistened hand between the girl's legs. Amelie responded immediately by lifting her thighs up and apart. Robert resumed his position on the mattress beside her, and she let one leg rest on his hip. “Your pussy is already soaking wet, you lusty girl.” “I've never had two lovers before,” she responded breathlessly. “I'm fucking hot.” Robert could hear the squishing sounds made by Cvetelina's hand. He watched her middle finger sink into Amelie's pussy. Amelie turned her head his way, but her eyes remained squeezed shut. “Please, don't just be a spectator.” He stroked her arm, dragging his fingers up to her chest, where he squeezed and plucked at her breast, but he couldn't take his eyes from Cvetelina. She looked impossibly sexy sitting on her knees beside Amelie, reaching between the girl's parted legs. She currently had two fingers buried inside Amelie. Cvetelina withdrew and slid her hand lower, coating the crease of Amelie's ass the way Amelie had done to him. Amelie lifted her hips and rotated them, offering Cvetelina better access. Unlike him, she truly seemed to want it. Cvetelina switched the double penetrator to her other hand and lowered it between Amelie's legs. She pressed the wide tip of the longer column against Amelie's widespread pussy. Cvetelina teased in a circular motion, letting her get used to the foreign object. She prodded gently, warning Amelie of imminent penetration. Robert pushed up on his elbow for a better view. Each dildo was a wavy column of smooth balls, one thicker and longer than the other. The rounded tip of the first sat halfway into the divot of Amelie's pussy, held there by the natural resistance of the girl's tight muscles. Cvetelina pushed it inside to the first indentation. Just as quickly she withdrew. Amelie made a soft sound.

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Cvetelina repeated the motion, sliding it as deep as it would go at that angle. Amelie lifted her hips, and Robert felt her thigh trembling. Cvetelina rotated the device, though she didn't press it deeper into Amelie's pussy. She angled it so the narrower tip touched the pucker of her anus. Amelie lifted her arm, and Robert took her hand. He wove his fingers into hers and brought the back of her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. He suddenly needed her to know this wasn't about revenge, or punishment, or anything negative. She hadn't hurt him, and he didn't wish her to be hurt. “You okay, sweetheart?” She opened her eyes and smiled. “Oh yeah.” He looked back in time to see the tip of the smaller shaft press into Amelie's ass. “Oh.” Cvetelina applied gentle pressure. Slowly the double penetrator traveled inside her body, and the curved handle seated flush against her. “Ooooh.” Still holding it fast in the other girl, Cvetelina eased down beside her. She leaned over Amelie and kissed her. Her lips parted, and Robert saw their tongues mating. It was a deep, passionate kiss, one of the most erotic sights he'd ever seen. “I love you, Amelie,” Cvetelina whispered against her lips. Her arm began a slow rhythm. Robert watched the rapture on Amelie's face with awe. These women had a special bond he felt privileged to have shared with him. He reached down and covered Cvetelina's hand with his own. She looked at him with a hint of surprise, but there was nothing in her gaze to make him feel like an intruder. If anything, the smile she gave him told him she was glad he'd joined in. “Show me how she likes it.” Cvetelina moved her hand in a slowly rocking, circular motion, stirring the double penetrator inside Amelie.

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Amelie threw back her head and squeezed her eyes shut again. Tiny mewls started in her throat and built. He felt Cvetelina push the dildo harder and increase the circumference of her circles. Amelie's skin flushed. She rocked her hips in time with the motion, urging Cvetelina's hand. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh. Yes!” Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and her nipples were hardened to pebbles. Her words petered off until they were little more than cries of pure ecstasy. Each shrill sound came in time with the circular pressure, peaking, then slowly diminishing. Finally Cvetelina's hand fell still. “Oh, oh my. So good.” Cvetelina kissed her again. Amelie drifted into it with eyes closed, and when Cvetelina eased away, there was a smile on the girl's face. Cvetelina gently eased the double penetrator from her body. Amelie breathed a long moan. “Thank you, Mistress.” “The pleasure was all mine. I'm not sure which I like better. Giving or receiving.” “How about we find out?” Robert's cock felt like a column of granite, and if he didn't find relief soon, he'd die. “Oh, poor baby. Robert wants to fuck something.” “Please let it be me.” “I think you've had enough,” Cvetelina told her. She straddled Amelie and stuck her ass in the air. “Will this do?” The invitation was more than he could resist. Thank you, God. Robert was on his knees and between both sets of thighs in the blink of an eye. He took Cvetelina firmly by the hips. She tossed a mischievous smile over her shoulder. “Give it to me, baby—” Robert rammed deep, cutting off her words. He buried himself to the hilt on his first thrust. She was juicy wet, still slippery from his cum and sopping with her own fluids. Her pussy felt hot and slick, her inner chamber pliant to the battering of his pillaging organ.

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He withdrew to the cap of his sex, enjoying the pull against the tight clench of muscles that prevented him from disengaging from her body, then plunged back inside, slamming against her thighs. She chanted out her pleasure in time with his pistoning hips. “Oh. Yes. Robert. Fuck. Me. Deep!” His body raged with heat, and his balls felt like a twisted knot of rope. “Harder. Oh. God. Yes. Harder!” He erupted inside her, thick jets spewing in a torrent of cum like lava. Sweat rolled off him, and a crimson veil descended over his vision. Each stream of jizz he let loose brought a surge of relief so intense it consumed every cell in his body. He collapsed on her back, still lodged deep. Goddamn. His body vibrated with each shaky exhalation. Dimly he heard Amelie's tiny voice exclaim, “Wow.” “Now you see why I took him.” “He drank your blood.” “Yes. His first time, I believe.” Amelie chuckled. “Help me, would you, love?” Robert was boneless, drunk with divine pleasure. The younger girl scrambled from beneath her mistress and helped pull him upright. The room spun. Amelie's soft hands circled his chest. “Come now. You can fuck her again later.” “Oh, damn.” He felt like a wet noodle. Amelie tugged him backward. He slipped out of Cvetelina's body with a dollop of warm liquid. She collapsed forward, and he fell beside her. The bed wriggled again as Amelie lay on the far side. Cvetelina smiled at him with glittering amusement in her eyes. “Good?” “Holy hell.”

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Chapter Ten Two days of unsuccessful searching took a dark toll on Robert's optimism. Cvetelina hated watching him sink into despair, but she'd known from the beginning this would happen. Matthew had been burned by his father's rejection, and if there was one thing Cvetelina knew about vampires, especially the young ones, they were a wary, distrustful bunch. His father's refutation had been the ultimate rejection, and Matt hadn't needed to be dismissed twice. But after his heartfelt plea to Mandy, it was odd that Matt hadn't shown up, if for nothing more than to give his father what for. Another thing about young vampires, they didn't ordinarily back down from the opportunity to speak their minds. “No use in searching during the day,” Robert told her. “I get the feeling no one is going to fess to recognizing him, even if they do.” He'd said he suspected many of the people who said no were lying to him, but she had kept to herself that she believed it as well. If anyone recognized Matthew as one of Viktor's gang, they certainly weren't going to volunteer information. Robert joined her in the main entry. He gave her a thin smile as he shrugged into his leather jacket. “Who was that at the door?” She slipped into her own jacket, hoping she wouldn't have to use the specially cut panels that allowed her wings to emerge. “It was Nikolay. I asked him to bring me these.” She set the teak box the Guardian had given her on the bombé cabinet against the wall. Robert remained silent as she opened the lid and showed him the devices inside. “If we are going inside the Witching Hour, I want you to have these.” “You really think it will be that dangerous?” “Robert, I believe you should carry one anytime you leave my home. Molinayov is still out there somewhere.”

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He shrugged noncommittally, though Cvetelina could tell her reference to the assassin unnerved him. “I didn't think he'd give up easily,” he answered simply. Robert removed one of the carved wooden darts and examined it. Cvetelina couldn't deny a macabre sense of admiration. The woodwork was exquisite, an elegant creation of ghastliness. It almost seemed a shame they were created to be destroyed. The dart looked like wood-carved brass knuckles. Four circles designed as finger holes connected to a small saddle that curved against the meat of his palm for leverage. Beneath the saddle, the dart narrowed to a point with a small glass reservoir nestled in the tip. Cvetelina shuddered as she acknowledged its lethal efficiency. Alone, it would only prove fatal if stabbed into a key pressure point, such as the temple or spinal column. But the point was designed to break upon impact, shattering the glass and poisoning the victim with its small reservoir of holy water. To a vampire, the tiny dart was deadly. Robert slipped his fingers through the holes and fitted it into his hand. Cvetelina swallowed, fighting the urge to take a step back. “Be careful with that.” “Has a medieval look to it, doesn't it?” He removed his fingers and slipped it into his pocket. “Why tonight? Have you heard something?” She shook her head. “Just a feeling. It seems odd to me the girl did not return, to wheedle more money if nothing else.” “She was probably lying about knowing Matthew. Or at least about being his girlfriend. Hell, he's probably got a bunch of girls around town he feeds from.” His voice sounded regretful, but Cvetelina smiled. “You think your son is a lady-killer like his father?” “Well, he does have my blue eyes.” He eased close and slipped his hands under her jacket. Amelie met them at the door, pulling her long hair from beneath her own jacket. Robert and Cvetelina both hugged her at the same time. She burst out giggling. “Amelie sandwich.” “Be on your guard, love.” Cvetelina kissed her neck.

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“No unnecessary risks,” Robert agreed. “Have a drink, look around. Nothing more.” He kissed the other side. “You're tickling me.” She scrunched left, then right. “I mean it, Doll,” Robert said in a firmer tone. “Don't go anywhere with anyone. Don't ask questions. Just observe. Check in every fifteen minutes from the time you pass through the door. If you miss a call, I'll call you. If you don't answer, we're both coming in.” Her mirth faded. “Your concern is sweet, but it's not that big of a deal. I've been to the Witching Hour before. I used to go to these kinds of clubs all the time.” “It's a different game now, Amelie,” Robert warned her. “Nobody knows I'm with Cvetelina. I'll go out the back door and walk ahead of you.” “Sweetheart, you're gorgeous and blonde. You're prime pickings. You'll be turning heads from every corner.” She smiled bashfully. “I'd rather take a few risks than do nothing to help you find your son.” “No.” The firmness in his tone made Cvetelina and Amelie both go still. “Listen, you two, I want to protect Matthew from the Guardians' assault more than you know, but he came to Romania of his own choice. You have both done more to help me than I could ask, and I'm grateful. I won't allow you to put yourselves at risk for him.” He looked at Cvetelina. “You're strong, and you have some nifty tricks up your sleeve, but I've seen with my own eyes how powerful and vicious these vampires are.” He shifted his gaze to Amelie. “And you're human. You don't heal.” “I'll be careful,” she promised in a small voice. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you.” If it were at all possible for Cvetelina to love him more, that would have done it. She blinked away tears as she watched Robert bestow the heartfelt tenderness, his eyes closed. Amelie received his kiss the same way, and Cvetelina's heart warmed all over again as she recognized their honest love.

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He picked up the teak box and held it out to her. Amelie gingerly picked one of the darts out of its silk fitting and pocketed it. Robert snapped the lid shut. “I'll start the timer when you walk through the door.”

*** It was full dark when Amelie reached the Witching Hour. The idea that vampires might be watching from the rooftops made her more nervous than she'd let on. She had a strong suspicion the three men who attacked her outside the Catty Shack were vamps. Guys started smiling at her the minute she walked through the door. She moved up to the bar and sat down next to two girls. She smiled when one glanced at her, realizing too late she might have just intruded on a fishing spot. She had to remember this wasn't a lesbian bar. She ordered a club soda, no lemon, and was relieved when the bartender twisted the cap off an imported bottle of California's Calistoga Springs Sparkling Mineral Water and poured it into a crystal-clean glass. Cvetelina had warned her not to drink anything she didn't see opened in front of her or from a glass that didn't appear perfectly clean. A very handsome young man sidled up to the bar beside her, nodded to the bartender and ordered two bottles of beer, then flashed Amelie with charming smile. Yummy. Now that she knew how much fun threesomes could be, guys took on a whole new appeal. Even the girls to her right perked up and took notice of that scrumptious hunk. Of course, there was only one man she wanted a threesome with, and that was Robert, but Amelie was already fantasizing about Matthew being just as delicious. She didn't suspect for a second that Cvetelina would ever end their relationship to be with Robert, but if Matthew were to join the party, she was sure there would be more than enough fun to go around. The phone at her hip buzzed precisely fifteen minutes in. She plugged a finger into her other ear. “Hiya.” Robert's voice buzzed through, speaking loudly against the background noise he could hear. “You're watching for anything that doesn't seem right?” “Yes.” “And nothing jumps out at you?”

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“Nope.” How sweet—Robert worried about her safety before asking if she'd seen Matthew. “You're on your guard?” “Of course.” “Remember your promise.” “I sure do.” “You said you always keep your promises.” “And I meant it. About that…when am I going to pay up?” He chuckled. “Naughty girl.” “I aim to please.” “Any sign?” “No, sorry.” “We'll call you back in fifteen.” “Talk to you then.” She slipped the phone into its holster. The girls beside her vacated their stools, and a young couple moved in. Amelie glanced into the mirror, and her heart did a double beat. Matthew. “Hey.” “Hi.” She smiled bashfully, hoping to hide the blush suffusing her skin. She knew too well a vampire could sense surges in emotion and the most minute changes in heart rate and skin temperature. Though he looked nothing like the surveillance photo, or one of the two wallet-size portraits Robert had brought with him, the young man who slid up next to her was the spitting image of his father. Right down to the barely there dimples that turned to lean lines in his cheeks when he smiled. Matthew was as gorgeous as Robert, with only slight differences to his bone structure that must have come from his mother. His nose was narrower and longer, and his cheekbones were more pronounced, like those sultry magazine models. His lips had a boyish fullness accentuated by a day's growth of stubble most girls would find sexy. His skin was like Robert's: smooth,

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slightly almond, and flawless, but Matthew's possessed a ruddy flush to it like he'd been walking outside in the cold. He had his father's magical blue eyes, sad like Robert's, but the misery clinging to their edges was much deeper. It stayed even when he smiled. “You want to dance?” “Um…” She glanced around, suddenly not sure what to do. She didn't want to blow this. “You're waiting for someone.” He seemed genuinely bashful, like he was unpracticed in picking up girls. “My girlfriend. She's meeting me here.” Amelie slid off the barstool and smiled. “But she'll find me.” Matthew smiled with obvious relief at being spared the humiliation of rejection. “Cool.” They sidled onto the floor, and Matthew started gyrating. “I heard you speaking English on the phone,” he shouted over the music. It was so loud in here she could barely hear herself think. Amelie knew it was his heightened vampire senses that allowed him to hear her on the phone. Cvetelina had warned her and Robert both against using names in their phone conversations. For all she knew, Matthew had heard his father on the other end of the line. “There aren't many Americans in Bucharest, especially one as pretty as you.” She laughed and looked down at the kaleidoscopic floor, blushing. The squares making up the dance floor flashed milky white, blue, green. “I'm Canadian, actually.” He leaned in. “What?” “I'm from Canada.” “You dance good. What's your name?” “Leigh.” “I'm Matt. What brings you to Romania?” “My girlfriend and I are touring Europe all year. Her parents are rich. I'm the hanger-on.” He laughed. “How long have you been here?” she asked him.

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“Five years. Came here same as you, just bumming around. But I got a job, so I stayed.” She hoped that didn't mean working for Viktor. But what other job could an American tourist get in Romania? “Do you speak Romanian?” “Da.” He grinned and said something else. She shook her head, and he laughed again. Pinpricks of sweat formed on his nose, glistening blue and green under the neon lights. “It's hot,” she said. She was still wearing her jacket. Lightweight, it had hardly been enough for the chill May night. But now she was roasting. Still, she didn't dare take it off. The dart was in the pocket. “You want to go sit? The lounge is quieter.” Lounge? This was the first she'd heard of any lounge. She checked her phone. Four minutes until the next call. “Sure. Let me call my girlfriend and tell her where I'll be.” She punched the speed dial to Robert's GSM phone as she trailed along behind Matthew toward an archway to a private room she hadn't noticed before. A burly man in a black suit stood guard, and blue velvet ropes blocked the entrance. Uh oh. There was no reason to be alarmed. It was part of the club, right? Except that this was a known vampire hangout. When it didn't ring on the other end, she looked at the phone's display. No service. Double uh oh. The clock still worked. The display flipped from 9:41 to 9:42 as she stared at it. Three minutes to go. If she didn't answer the call, Cvetelina would be the first to enter. Surely she was safe for the next three minutes. Wasn't she? The guard nodded to Matthew and released the hook on the velvet rope. Only when she passed through did she realize her mistake. She'd walked right into a vampire lair.

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Chapter Eleven “They have a really cool drink in here,” Matthew said in a normal voice. The music from the dance floor was still loud, but at least she wouldn't suffer hearing damage in here. They flopped down into two deep leather seats angled corner to corner for conversation. “It's more involved to make, so they don't serve it in the bar. It's more expensive too.” Matthew grinned. She wanted to slap him. His innocence was feigned, his cute little boy act just that. He was trying to get her to drink Tourin! This would break Robert's heart. Without an order from Matt, a waitress brought over two shot glasses on a tray and set them down on the small, artsy table perched between their chairs. Matthew didn't put any money out either. Though this confirmed her suspicions, Amelie took it with surprising calm. She looked at the two glasses. Matthew picked his up and slugged it back in one mouthful. She picked hers up, if only to continue her own ruse. So this was what Tourin looked like. The liquid was 80 percent milky white, with a layer of blue sitting on top. She held her hand very still, watching as the two sections curled and rioted against each other, seemingly with a life of their own. And yet they didn't mix. “Looks weird.” “Yeah, but it's good.” “What is it?” she asked, laying the opportunity for him to be honest. “It's called Russian Winter. Curaçao, vodka, coconut milk, and cream. It's a favorite here in Romania. The curaçao is mostly just for appearance, but it adds a minty flavor that cools your tongue. Only the best bartenders can make it without mixing the two layers.”

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He watched her with an amount of expectation. Amelie felt a surge of regret. Poor Robert. His son was a jerk. She smiled. “I should tell you, I'm celibate.” Matthew took that in with a hint of surprise, then laughed. “Hey, no prob. I think that's cool.” When she remained silent, smiling lightly at him, he stammered on. “You don't meet too many girls with integrity like that anymore. I think it's great. I'd like to marry a virgin—if I ever get married.” She giggled, playing along. “Really? Most guys are turned off when I tell them. I can always tell when a guy only wants sex because he's gone in a minute flat.” “I'm not a very fast runner.” She shifted, moving the glass around but not drinking. “I'll start the timer anyway.” Matthew laughed. “You haven't tasted your drink.” She set it down on the table, sliding it toward him. “You can have it.” “You should taste it. It's good.” She wrinkled her nose. “Ummm, no thanks. You drink it.” “I shouldn't.” “Why not?” He placed a lean hand across his stomach. His fingers were long and tapered, his forearm corded with muscle. “Too much alcohol makes me fat.” Her smile slid away. Enough of this stupid act. Matthew was a pitiful disappointment. She looked at her phone. Time was up. “I know what it is, Matthew.” His smile faded with hers. “It's a really fucked up thing you're trying to do.” Matthew's expression turned suspicious. “Who are you?” “I'm a friend of a friend of your father's.”

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He eased back in the chair, and dark anger settled over his features. “My father. He's here, isn't he?” Matthew looked away. His expression turned forlorn as he sighed. “I've been thinking about him lately. Probably sensed him.” “Didn't Mandy tell you he wanted to speak with you?” “Mandy? I haven't seen her in a couple of days. How'd you find Mandy?” “She found us, begging for leu in the subway. We asked her if she recognized your photo, and she said you were her boyfriend.” Matthew glanced around nervously. “You a hunter?” “No. I told you, just a friend. Is that true?” “Is what true?” he snapped. “You let Mandy think she's your girlfriend, and while she's begging for scraps you're seducing girls in a ritzy club?” “I love Mandy. That's why she isn't here.” His eyes flashed bright, like white-blue laser lights. “Dangerous thing you're doing, little girl.” “You fault me for trying to help?” She fought the urge to look at the phone display again. This had been the longest three minutes of her life. “Help who, me or him?” “You both. He just wants to talk.” Matthew snorted. “Yeah, right.” “Don't you want to talk to your father?” “He isn't my father anymore. He stopped being my father when I stopped being human.” There was sharp anger in his tone. His brows knit, and Matthew's scowl made him look like a little boy about to throw a tantrum. Amelie shook her head. “That's so sad.” He blasted a sharp sigh through his nostrils. “Yeah, well. Such is life.” “He just wants to talk. He's really sorry for the way things went down between you. He says he just wants to apologize, and I believe him.” There was a pen lying on the table. She snatched a cocktail napkin and wrote the number to Robert's GSM phone on the back of it. “If you change your mind, you can reach him here.”

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When she handed him the napkin, he hesitated but then took it. Amelie smiled. Matthew didn't smile with her, but she saw his features relax. “Now, would you please walk me out of this room?” Matthew's shoulders sagged. “Yeah. Sure.” They stood and headed for the door, Matthew's hand at her elbow. A man stepped in front of them, blocking their path. Amelie gasped at the suddenness of it. The man's brows gave the slightest upward twitch, as though amused by the reaction he'd incited. He was short, with greased-back hair and an oily demeanor. His suit was expensive, custom fitted to his stocky frame. This guy made her skin crawl, and not just because she suspected he was the infamous Viktor Vassilev. He was evil in the flesh. “You're Matthew, right?” He asked the question of Matt, but his eyes were on Amelie. “Who's your lovely friend?”

*** Robert snapped the phone shut after his third unsuccessful try to connect. A barely perceptible glimmer of fear passed through Cvetelina's eyes. She tried to hide it, but Robert knew her too well. “She's out of range.” Her gaze shifted to the club's doors. “We can go in,” he offered, understanding that under her cool facade, she was near panic. Cvetelina wouldn't say what he knew she felt; she regretted this plan. Even Robert regretted it now that it was in play. It had seemed so simple. Just go in, have a drink, have some fun. One hour. Answer the phone every fifteen minutes. But now, weighing the risks and the simple fact they'd all known yet no one had put into words, that the Witching Hour was a vampire lair, it seemed the dumbest plan in the world. “She is still inside,” Cvetelina said with forced calm. “I can sense her. Already our bond is that strong.” “I don't feel right about this.” He flipped open the phone and punched the speed dial to his GSM again.

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It should work, dammit. The GSM had a stronger signal and didn't require towers. There wasn't a cloud in the night sky. Something was wrong. “I'm going in.” “There are vampires inside.” She caught his arm. “I will go in.” “We'll both go in.” He gave her a warning look that defied argument. “You first. I'll follow.” He had to credit her; she walked ahead with a sure step and didn't look back once. She loved Amelie, and Robert knew she would bring down a shit storm of fury on anyone who hurt the girl. Hell, he would too. Darling little Amelie had managed to wind herself around his heart with her sweet mischief. He entered the club. Immediately the thumping music and rapid kaleidoscoping lights muffled his senses like a damp towel wrapped around his head. Not good. A mosh of dancers choked the center like a whirling cloud of insects. A bar ran the length of the far wall. He could see rows and rows of bottles, and a reflected network of blue and green neon in an artsy pattern mounted directly to the ceiling-tall mirror. He'd have to fight his way across the dance floor or squeak around through the narrow edge, where mismatched tables and chairs made up the funky decor. Cvetelina had vanished in the throng. He stepped into the twisting mass of gyrating bodies and was glad he'd decided to go this way. He was able to snake between them without getting jarred too badly, and he noticed they crashed into each other with the same frequency. A large, dark presence loomed behind him. The hair on Robert's neck bristled. He turned. Molinayov grinned evilly at him, showing inhumanly elongated canines. “Ah shit. You again.” The demon started forward, pushing effortlessly through the dancers.

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In his peripheral vision, Robert saw the bouncing and gyrating slow, as if everyone took notice at the same moment. It was hard to ignore a behemoth with glowing red eyes and fiveinch dinosaur teeth sticking out of his mouth. A woman screamed. The sound pierced, slicing above the music. Another scream, and suddenly Robert was standing on an empty dance floor as patrons fled in panic. They stampeded in chaos at the edges of the room, Molinayov standing too close to the door for anyone to risk running past him. Someone crashed into Robert, sending him staggering toward Molinayov. “You are lucky the first time, Vampire Agent,” Molinayov roared, spittle flying. “Time for your luck to run out.”

*** Amelie whirled toward the doorway leading to the club's main floor. All she saw of Matthew was his back as he ran for the dance floor. Screams rose above the music like the surge on a downward plunge of a roller coaster. The dark silhouettes of panicked dancers raced to and fro, making it impossible to see what was happening. Viktor snatched her wrist. “Come. You will be safe with me.” “No.” She yanked against his grip, but he held fast. His smile was oily. “There is an exit this way.” “No!” “Let her go.” She glanced over his shoulder to find a man looming. Amelie recognized the Guardian warrior, Hiemel. No, Helmich. Viktor released her so quickly she stumbled backward. He held up both hands and tipped his head in exaggerated acquiescence. “Just trying to help. No harm done, Guardian.” Several others ran past, but the man standing behind Viktor remained, eyes narrowed menacingly. He reached for her, and Amelie went to him. She turned to gauge Viktor's reaction and, from the corner of her eye, saw Cvetelina pushing past fleeing patrons to gain entry to the lounge. With a small nod to Amelie, she turned and headed back to the dance floor.

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Amelie felt a sinking in her stomach. Whatever was happening out there, it probably had something to do with Robert. They had come in to extract her. This was her fault, and they were no closer to Matthew for it. She started out with the Guardian. “Amelie.” She stopped and turned back to Viktor. She sucked in a silent gasp—he knew her name! His smarmy smile returned. “Until we meet again, mea dulce.” She swallowed. Helmich took her arm. “Let's go. It isn't safe here.” Once outside, she pulled him to a stop. “What about Robert and Cvetelina? I can't leave without them.” “They will be okay on their own. Let them have peace of mind that you are safe.” His wings unfolded in an incredible display of flesh and bone. They stretched six feet in either direction, as pale and pink as the rest of the fair-skinned blond man. A spotlight behind him turned the webbing nearly translucent. The appendages were breathtaking, so unearthly beautiful she had to hold her hand back for want to touch them. He took her around the waist and leaped into the air with superhuman strength. A powerful downward stroke of his wings sent them rocketing into the night sky. At street level, a dull whump pressed on the air, and a dazzling explosion of blue sparks sent a glow spreading over the square. “That man is bad news,” Helmich said over the whistle of wind that crept through her clothes like icy, roaming fingers. “You should not associate with him.” “I know,” she managed. “You came along just in time.” She had never flown with Cvetelina except for that first night, but she'd been half unconscious. Amelie stared down at the glittering city, uttering, “Wow,” over and over again. In minutes they were back at the townhouse. Stanimira stood on the stoop, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. When they neared, she reached up and helped Helmich land her. In the next instant, he was airborne again.

***

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Robert shoved his hand into his pocket. His fingers slipped into the loopholes of the dart. Its smooth saddle fit snugly against his palm. Come on, fucker. Let's end this. Molinayov charged. That maniacal grin turned to a scowl of fury. He transformed as he ran the five short strides across the dance floor, mutating more hideously with each step. “No!” Wings flapped over Robert as another vampire charged from behind him. For a moment he thought it was Cvetelina. Then he realized— Matthew. His son crashed into Molinayov and sent him toppling over backward. They rolled across the light-up floor like tussling cats. Jesus, Matty! Robert leaped forward, only to be grabbed by a vampire woman who spun him around and showed her fangs, hissing a blast of noxious breath foul enough to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. She bent forward, tilting her head as if to take a bite from a juicy hamburger. A tranquilizer dart hit her in the neck. Her hiss turned to a shriek, and she whipped her head in the direction of her attacker. Robert looked too, saw the Guardian with the dart gun, and beside him Cvetelina, punching the daylights out of a young male vampire. The female holding him by the arm him spun away, tore out the dart, and started toward the shooter, a young but very muscular Guardian. Two steps into her advance she faltered, and before she could take a third, she crumpled to the floor. Robert whirled around in time to see Molinayov toss Matthew off. His son hit the wall upside down, arms and legs splayed, and then crashed to the floor. Robert started toward them again, but Molinayov didn't seem to care about Matty. He shoved to his feet and turned on Robert with fury glowing red-hot in his eyes. He charged, knocking a fleeing man aside like a rag doll. He grabbed Robert around the upper body and picked him up, still running. Molinayov squeezed so hard Robert felt his ribs cracking. They hit the bar, and wood splintered beneath Robert. Or maybe that was the feel of his bones breaking.

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He pounded his fists down on the beast's back. Molinayov wasn't even fazed. He hurled Robert into a table that smashed under his weight. Robert struggled upright and kicked himself around to face his attacker. Molinayov stalked toward him, meaty paws curled into fists, once again in human form. The demon slowed, and a look of uncertainty filled his ugly face. He tried to look over his shoulder, turning in a semicircle as he did. At first Robert thought someone had quilled Molinayov; then he remembered the dart in his hand. He looked down and saw the pointed tip had broken off, leaving only the finger holes and the saddle against the meat of his palm. A ring of crackling blue flames widened, eating their way across the vampire's back, his trench coat included. Blackened, smoking flesh was left behind the quickly spreading circle. Molinayov tipped back his head and roared. The sound cut off as he exploded like two tons of blue dynamite. Robert threw up his arm to shield his eyes. Chunks of charred meat flew in a spray of unholy demon shrapnel. When the smoke cleared, he saw the carnage that was left of the club. A female body lay still in the center of the dance floor, long dark hair spread around her head. Human or vampire, alive or dead, Robert couldn't be sure. The music had stopped, leaving an eerie silence punctuated only by the popping of sparks and crunch of broken glass. A sobbing woman ran through the low-hanging ribbon of smoke. Two more shadowy figures, a man helping a limping woman along, followed from the other side. A bloodcurdling shriek brought his attention to Cvetelina on the far side of the club. She crouched in a fighter's stance opposite a vampire female in demon form. It was the other who had shrieked. The vamp ripped a tranquilizer dart out of her shoulder and crushed the plastic vial like a beer can. The next instant, she went limp and sagged to the floor. A Guardian stood over a kneeling vampire who held her hands up in surrender, sobbing. The Guardian holstered a dart gun, then grabbed her by the forearm and hauled her to her feet. He marched her toward the back of the club. Two more Guardian men knelt by the sprawled woman with black hair, who thankfully came awake and allowed them to help her to her feet.

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Through the smoke, he saw Matthew rise. Pure terror fused his son's features. Even through the smoke and dim light, Robert could see the whites of his eyes. Robert threw a piece of the splintered table off and clambered to his feet. “Matthew!” His son looked in his direction. He suddenly jumped like he'd been shocked with an electric charge, then flipped his wrist, dislodging a tranquilizer dart from the back of his hand. Robert spun around. A Guardian woman stood in firing stance, prepared to shoot again. He started toward her, hand raised. “No! That's my son, dammit! Don't shoot!” She paused, her gaze passing from Matthew to him. When Robert turned back, his son was gone.

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Chapter Twelve Cvetelina had called ahead to say they were fine, but still, when they came through the door, Amelie ran to them in tears. She managed to link one arm around his neck and one around Cvetelina's to pull them both into a crushing hug. “My God, what happened? Was it my fault?” Cvetelina eased her to arm's length. “No, no. Not at all, sweetheart.” “Because I went into the lounge, even though you said not to leave the club—” Robert took her by the arms. “It wasn't your fault, Amelie. Molinayov followed me inside. That's all.” She sniffled, the wrinkle to her brow saying she was unconvinced. She fell toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Molinayov is dead now. We don't have to worry about him anymore,” Robert assured her. “God.” “It was a stupid plan. We should never have asked you to go in there.” Amelie stood back, chewing her lower lip. Cvetelina took her hand and urged her to the settee. “You didn't do anything wrong.” She pulled her close, but Amelie only allowed her a quick hug before she pulled away again. “There's a vampire lair inside, a lounge that's by invitation only. A guard stands at the door. I should have known, but I didn't realize it…until I was already inside.” Robert sat beside her. “You did good, sweetheart. It took a hell of a lot of courage to go in there.” Amelie swiveled around to face him. “I saw Matthew. He asked me to dance.” His attention perked. He knew Matthew had been there, but he didn't know his son and Amelie had any interaction.

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Amelie brought his hand into both of hers. “I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried something terrible had happened to you.” “In case you hadn't noticed, I'm tougher than the average agent.” He smiled, and she managed a thin one in return. “I'm going to tell you the truth about Matthew, okay?” He nodded, turning numb. “Please do.” “We danced together for a few minutes, and he told me he had a job here. He asked me to sit in the lounge, and I went along.” She flipped her attention back to Cvetelina. “I thought it was okay; it was inside the club—” “It's all right, darling. You could not have known there was any danger.” “If I was smart, I would have.” Amelie swiveled back toward him, but she dropped her gaze. “I tried to call you, but the phone didn't have a signal.” Robert rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I know.” “I was hoping he'd be nice like you.” She worried her lower lip again, then lifted her eyes to his. “He tried to get me to drink Tourin. He lied to me about what it was.” Robert drew a long breath and let it out slowly. This was hard to accept. The Sacred Laws didn't differentiate by country. Drugging humans without their consent was illegal anywhere. “But he also tried to save my life,” Robert told them both. “In fact, he probably did. If he hadn't attacked Molinayov, I might not have been able to use my dart.” Amelie sniffled and nodded. She told him about the rest of their conversation and Matthew's claim that he hadn't gotten any message from Mandy. “I gave him the GSM number. Maybe he'll call.” “Maybe.” “See?” Cvetelina said in a cheerful voice. “All is not lost.” His son had sensed him. Robert hoped the thoughts that had come into Matthew's mind in the last few days had been forgiving, or at least regretful for all they'd lost.

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But what had become of his son that he would hurt an innocent? Had his vampirism made him evil? The Matthew he knew would never lure an innocent to her destruction. In Robert's mind, that was as bad as murder. Idly he slid his hand over Amelie's shoulders, drawing her closer. He was ashamed for what might have happened to her by his son's hand had she truly been an innocent who stumbled into that spider's web. How many others had fallen prey? His thoughts ran back to San Francisco and Spike's Palace, where countless innocents had been sucked in. Amelie melted against him and laid her head on his chest. “I'm sorry, Robert.” “No, Amelie.” With her closeness came the urge to circle her with his arms. “I'm sorry. For what he tried to do to you, and for what I asked you to do. You mean so much to me. I will never risk you again like that.” She slid her hand up his neck and caressed his cheek. “You're three times the man he is.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Sweetheart.” She leaned away enough to look up at him. “I'm so glad you're here with us.” And then her lips were on his, featherlight, soft as a cloud. Asking, offering, soothing. She slid closer on the settee, making his desire spike as her body rubbed against him. He broke their kiss to look at Cvetelina. She watched them with a tender smile. He reached for her and grasped her hand. Amelie leaned back into her arms and tilted her head up to receive her mistress's kiss. Robert worked the buttons on Amelie's blouse. The kiss she shared with Cvetelina turned from one of pure tenderness to raw, potent passion. He watched their tongues mingling and nearly lost his mind. He pushed open her blouse and released the front clasp on her lacy bra. The stretchy material sprang open, and he fell against her, licking, sucking, nipping at her creamy flesh. Her nipples turned to hard beads in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over them, earning soft coos of pleasure. Robert unzipped her jeans, and Amelie shifted to help him as he tugged them down. Her panties were dragged off in the jumble and dropped to the floor.

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Amelie turned on the settee, facing him with her legs on either side. Her pretty pussy spread open for him, framed by threaded gold. The first hints of moisture glistened on her pearly, secret flesh. Cvetelina slid off the settee to kneel beside it, allowing Amelie to lie back. She brought one foot up to the settee's back, further opening herself to Robert. He wouldn't refuse the invitation. He bent over her, eager to delve into her mysteries. She mewled when his tongue found her sensitive folds. He laved up and down, and she quivered when he found the entrance to her body and pushed the tip of his tongue inside. He circled her clitoris, then sucked it into his mouth, earning tiny cries when he tugged lightly. She had her own unique scent, the same as Cvetelina yet different. Amelie tasted slightly like cantaloupe juice, whereas Cvetelina was more like wine. “Cvetelina.” “Yes, Robert?” “Clothes off.” She chuckled lightly. “If you insist.” “I do.” He rose to his knees and tore his own off in seconds flat, watching Cvetelina as she put on a more languorous show. The sight of each delicious part slowly coming exposed sent him out of his mind. “God, he's beautiful,” Amelie said on a dreamy sigh. Cvetelina leaned close. “Isn't he, love?” “I finally get to have him.” “You will see he was worth the wait.” Robert exhaled a hot breath. “Nothing like instilling a little confidence in my performance.” Cvetelina's gaze fell between his legs. “No performance anxiety there, darling.” Indeed, his cock jutted from his groin long and hard, aimed at Amelie's sweet center like a smart missile.

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He lowered himself slowly, gently, not wanting to scare her. She suddenly seemed delicate and fragile, totally waiflike. Her hands slid over his arms and onto his shoulders, beckoning. His bulging crown touched the weeping core of her, gently pressing on the outermost of her pearly gates. The start of his pressure met tight resistance; then her body yielded. She opened to him with a soft moan low in her throat. He slid through silky cream, pushing into her with a series of slow, easy thrusts until he was seated deep. Robert kept his movements gentle and controlled, enjoying the velvety caress of her vaginal walls as he drew in and out on long, slow strokes. He settled his body on hers, pressing his lips to her ear. She whispered in his. “Thank you, Robert, for being so gentle.” “You're welcome.” “Now quit it and fuck me.” He chuckled. “Your pleasure is my command.” He slid his arm beneath her back and pushed off the settee with the other, lifting her up to sit across his lap. Her body weight sank on him, sending his cock deep. “Oh! You're naughty, just like me. You fit in around here better than you thought.” “You mean in here?” He thrust up into her, enjoying the tight resistance his rock-hard cock found. “Ooh, you are bad. My favorite type.” Above the intense sensation of her sweet pussy sliding over his rod, dimly he realized he was living out every man's dream. Two women, one seasoned with experience, the other a nubile angel. It doesn't get any better than this. Cvetelina eased up behind them. She pressed her body close against Amelie, warm breasts rubbing against Robert's arms. She brought one hand to her lips and sucked on his finger. Amelie must have sensed the erotic charge because she started riding up and down on him, propelling herself with her feet planted on the floor.

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“Oh, Jesus, Amelie, I'm going to come.” A thought occurred—she was human. “Should I stop?” “Hell no, don't stop. You can't impregnate me while I'm on vampire blood.” Thank goodness, because he didn't think he could stop if he tried. And Amelie made sure of that; she squeezed with strong vaginal muscles, milking his cum by clamping down and dragging that sweet pussy all the way up to his crown. The first tremors came on her next downward plunge, and Robert erupted, blasting straight up like a geyser. She rode him hard, doing most of the work. He let her, enjoying the way her body grew warmer and a sheen of sweat made her skin dewy soft. Her long hair rippled in waves with each up-down, and when orgasm seized her body, her eyes drifted shut and pure rapture fused her face. Cvetelina drew the curtain of blonde hair aside and peppered tiny kisses against Amelie's neck. She smiled, letting her head fall back on Cvetelina's shoulder. Amelie sighed, humming a loud murmur. “I still prefer women,” she told Robert and turned her head to receive Cvetelina's kiss. “But you're a close second.” He laughed. His entire body hummed with diminishing energy, like a great engine slowly powering down. He met Cvetelina's eyes, and a secret message passed between them. He lashed his tongue across Amelie's nipple. “I could say the same thing about you, darlin'.” “Oh, you naughty boy.” “But it isn't a competition,” he quickly appeased. “You're both like different flavors of ice cream. As soon as I finish eating one, I want the other.” Amelie giggled but cut off suddenly when he tried to help her off his cock. “No, wait! Do you think you can carry me like this?” “I think so, why?” “This chaise is an original Louis XIII. I don't want to drip on it.” “Don't worry, darlings. I have two more like it in storage.” Cvetelina winked. “Besides, if you get a stain on it, I will always fondly be reminded why when I see it.”

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“No, Amelie's right. This couch is worth more than I earn in five years.” Robert placed his hands at her hips. “Let's take this upstairs.” Cvetelina rose first and gathered their clothes. He waited until Amelie wrapped her legs around his waist; then Robert surged to his feet. The motion drove him deep into her soft center. “Oh! God, he's still hard!” Cvetelina tossed a sly look over her shoulder. “That's nice to hear.” He pushed into her tight channel again when he shifted left to dismount the settee. Amelie gave a squeal of delight. “Watch out, or I'll come again.” Robert chuckled. “Just wait till I start up the stairs.”

*** “Don't worry. I am sure he will call soon.” Cvetelina rounded her desk to stand before Robert where he sat in the guest chair. She straddled his lap and linked her arms around his neck. “He probably just needs time to think.” “It's been two days.” “It is not a long time when you consider what happened at the Witching Hour. All of Bucharest is in turmoil. Most vampires are laying low.” She squirmed on his lap, grinding against his cock. Her pussy was a hot spot he felt through her jeans. He slid his arms around her waist as his erection blossomed. She bent to take his mouth. Her lips were a soft, sensual distraction. “Besides,” she said between peppered kisses. “I can think”— kiss—“of some lovely ways”— kiss—“to pass the time.” He lost himself in her tenderness, unwilling to put solid thought into leaving. As much as he wanted to hear from Matthew, reuniting with his son would mark the end of his time with Cvetelina. He'd come to Romania desperate to find Matthew. Instead he'd found love. He was no longer sure which he wanted more. Matthew had made his choice. Matthew refused to contact him. Cvetelina had offered herself to him without question. Every day she gave more.

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But Matthew was young and confused, not entirely to blame for the circumstances that had taken over his life. In the same token, he had tried to drug Amelie. He was now a criminal. If the VTF got wind of what he'd done, Matthew would be tried by the Guardian council and, if established as a threat to innocents, executed. Robert had to protect him. He had to save him, to show him that even though they were on opposite teams, Robert only wanted to help. Yet Matthew was no fool. He knew what he was doing. He had the power to make the choice. Matthew had Mandy to sustain him; he didn't need to be luring girls into vampire lairs. What motive could he possibly have to do such a heinous thing but greed? Cvetelina had shown him such a thing existed as pure love. Had there ever even been a recorded love affair between a vampire and a human? Maybe not recorded, but this was so powerful he couldn't believe it had never happened before. She truly wasn't so different from him. She just had different strengths, and different weaknesses, than him. His flip-flopping thoughts faded away as her kiss took over his senses. She was right. This was a fantastic way to pass the time. Robert slid his hands up her back and drove his fingers into her hair. “Thank you, Cvetelina.” “For what?” She bestowed that smile that melted his heart. “For everything.” A telephone shrilled. Robert's heart leaped, then dropped. It was the office phone on Cvetelina's desk, not his GSM. She smiled and brushed a finger under his chin before she pushed to her feet and dismounted his lap. Cvetelina rounded her desk and sat in the plush leather executive chair. “Da. Cvetelina Jezliakova.” He heard the soft buzz of a male voice on the other end of the line.

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Cvetelina's gaze shot to Robert. Her smile drifted away. He watched her throat work on a difficult swallow. Her chest rose and fell. But it was the change in her eyes that worried him most. Horror. A minute passed in which she said nothing, only listened. Robert's worry climbed. This was not good news. The phone drifted from her ear as though her arm had gone numb. She offered the cordless handset to him. He snatched it out of her hand. “Almaden.” “Ah, Agent Almaden. Ms. Jezliakova is speechless, no doubt. I am Viktor Vassilev. You have heard of me, yes?” For a scum-sucking Romanian vampire, his English was impeccable. Robert could almost hear traces of Britain in his accent. “What the fuck do you want?” “A small trade. A business arrangement, if you will. I consider myself a fair man. You have something I want; I have something you want.” “Get to the point.” “Your son for the servant girl. A bargain for you, if I dare say so.” No wonder Cvetelina looked as if she'd been struck. “Are you out of your undead mind?” “Cvetelina is reluctant to part with her plaything. I can understand that. But I'm certain it will not take her long to find another. After all, she found little Amelie a mere two weeks after returning from San Francisco, where her royal heart was broken by a lowly slave. I am certain she thought she would never love again then too.” Cvetelina shot out of her chair and ran around her desk. Her footsteps beat a quick rasp on the deep carpet as she fled the room. “I'll even try to dig one up for her here,” Viktor continued in an amused voice, knowing exactly what kind of misery he'd caused. “Cvetelina knows she is always welcome in my establishments, even if she does occasionally wreck up the place.” “You son of a bitch.”

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“Do not worry about the girl. Amelie will be a favorite in my stable. Many of my top lieutenants are already salivating for her. Remember, we are vampires. Whatever damage we inflict, we can heal.” “Fuck off, you sadistic bastard.” “Your son might not be so lucky,” Victor returned in a dangerous tone. “You hurt him, and it will be the last thing you ever do.” “You have three hours to decide. Amelie or Matthew. When you come to your senses, bring her to the square at what is left of the Witching Hour. Remain out in the open, Agent. Any Guardians I see, I will kill.” Robert punched the disconnect button. Heart hammering, he shoved out of his chair and went in search of Cvetelina. He found her in a sewing room at the end of the hall, hugging a bewildered Amelie who'd been interrupted while working on a glamorous evening gown. Amelie returned Cvetelina's hug but turned a curious glance on him. “What's going on?” Cvetelina slowly eased away. The look she turned on Robert cut through his chest and sliced open his heart. Pure, unrestrained despair marred her pretty face. “Please don't take my Amelie from me.” A tear laid a shiny trail down her cheek. He stepped into the room. Each footfall marked a painful stroke in his chest. His refusal meant the loss of his son. His acceptance, the end for sweet Amelie. He had a terrible choice to make. Amelie or Matthew.

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Chapter Thirteen Robert forced Amelie to walk in front of him into the empty square. At four a.m., the sky was sooty gray. She jerked, trying to shake free, but the industrial zip ties binding her wrists made her easy to control. Her blonde hair whipped across her face as she stumbled and nearly fell, but Robert wrenched the small girl easily to her feet. She whimpered and sobbed, but the effort to scream for help came as little more than a muffled groan behind the silver duct tape covering her mouth. “Quiet.” He gave her a shake. “Nobody's around to help you, Amelie.” He shoved her onto a bench. Across the empty square, the Witching Hour had a look of desolate abandon. Plywood covered the windows, and the neon sign had been removed. A heavy chain secured the iron handles on the double doors. “Mm-ham-rrr-cold.” “Shut up.” She stared through tossed bangs with hate-filled eyes. “I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you understand. There really was no choice when it came down to it. I hardly know you, but my son is blood.” “Mff-ooo.” “Don't be so bitter. It was fun while it lasted.” Robert paced away, unable to face the girl any longer. “Where the fuck is he?” “Patience,” Nikolay said softly. “Probably watching you, same as I am.” Though almost a mile and a half away, the Guardian's voice came through the earpiece crystal clear. He would feel better if Nikolay were nearer, but the Guardians hadn't wanted to risk any chance of being spotted. Robert glanced at his watch. The vampire said four thirty. It was coming on four forty.

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He sat, fiddling with his hands, then shot to his feet and strode in front of Amelie. He looked at his watch, hoping he did look perturbed. Four forty-five. Robert lifted his hands. “Hey. I got all day,” he said in a loud voice. “Sunshine doesn't fry me.” “I don't get it,” Nikolay whispered. “No vampire in his right mind would be out this close to sunrise.” “Who said he's in his right mind?” Robert grumbled. Did they know it wasn't Amelie, but Daniella, a petite Guardian female? Cvetelina had told him she could sense other vampires, but could vampires also sense Guardians? Four forty-five turned into four fifty. Still no sign of the vampire. Robert rubbed his hands together and blew on them, watching his breath billow steamy plumes in the icy morning air. At five a.m., the morning sky looked like a tea latte. Viktor wasn't going to show. “This is bullshit. You're playing me, you son of a bitch. Fuck this.” He ended his complaint with the code words. “I'm outta here.” Three Guardians soared out of the low-hanging mist. Daniella kept up her role of terrified captive. She jumped to her feet and ran to Rolf. He freed her hands and shot into the sky with her. The other two Guardians faced off against Robert. Helmich shoved him. He shoved back. After a few minutes of posturing, the two Guardians launched into the air, leaving Robert alone in the mist. Nikolay's voice came through the earpiece. “Agent Almaden, my men have trapped four of Viktor's henchmen at the Museum of History. They'd broken into a case of fourteenth century royal jewels on display there. It looks like this was all a distraction to cover a robbery.” Robert was unconvinced. This was just the sort of sneaky thing a vampire would want him to believe. Something wasn't right about the whole setup. He turned and started up the hill toward the church at a run. “Can you spare a man at the townhouse?” He could make the two miles to Cvetelina's place in less than fifteen minutes. “I've got a bad feeling about this.” “I'll do a flyby myself.”

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Something crashed into Robert from behind. He sprawled face-first onto the cobblestone street. The earpiece flew off and clattered away. Robert reached for it. A dark shadow soared out of the mist and snatched it up. All he saw was a black, beastly arm with long, pointed claws. Hot terror flashed and burned on his skin. The instant he shoved to his feet, he was hit from the left by another dark shadow. The snap of his left humerus brought a spike of pain more intense than anything he'd ever known. He staggered sideways and collapsed to his knees. Everything in his vision turned red. The image of whatever hit him—a mere glimpse of yellow teeth and bloodred, glowing eyes— seemed unreal. A black creature sailed through his peripheral vision, damn near breaking his other arm as it knocked him flat. He hit the ground hard. His broken arm gnashed, and searing hot pain stabbed his chest. With absurd clarity, he understood a broken rib had punctured his lung. Robert was grabbed by the belt and yanked into the sky. A bright flash of light filled his eyes in time with the clap of thunder that was a blow to the back of his skull.

*** “Do something. Don't just sit there. He's going to kill her!” “What the hell do you want from me? There's nothing we can do. We're all dead.” “Can't you transform or something? You're a vampire.” The voices slid in and out, sounding far away, then close, then far away again. Amelie? “What, do you think I can turn into the Incredible Hulk?” Matthew. “If your positions were reversed, he wouldn't just sit there.” Robert tried to open his eyes. As though someone opened a door to a winter's night, sudden cold rushed in and seized him. He struggled over a groan, and the searing pain sliced through his chest again. I really am a goner this time. “He's coming around.” Yes, Amelie. He heard her soft footsteps tapping against stone as she hurried over, felt her nearness, then her hands light on his face. She lifted his head so it was cradled in her lap.

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“Robert.” Her voice was urgent but a whisper. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He opened his eyes and found her leaning over him, her hair a golden halo around her face. He blinked his eyes against the smoky blackness. Matthew collapsed to his knees on his right. “Dad. Oh shit. I'm so sorry.” Tears stained his son's dirty cheeks. A whimpering sound called his attention to the shadows. In a far corner, Mandy huddled against the wall, much the way they'd found her in the subway. “Where are we?” “You are in my dungeon.” Viktor Vassilev's refined voice slithered through the darkness. Robert looked past his feet to see the impeccably dressed man on the far side of a wall of bars. He was short, of stocky build, with slicked hair. He stood with his arms clasped behind him, a look of amusement on his greasy face. Robert almost laughed. Viktor fit to a tee the mafioso impression he'd had since he first learned about the vampire gangster. “I must thank you, really. It is because of you I have opportunity to finally do away with Cvetelina Jezliakova. It is she I wanted all along. Not you or your ragamuffin son.” Cvetelina! No. Viktor's gaze rose to Amelie, and a smarmy grin slithered onto his face. “Though you do make a nice bonus prize, mia dolce.” “I'll kill myself first.” She shifted as she spat the promise, sending shards of pain through Robert's skull. “You will find that very difficult with your arms and legs bound wide apart. Perhaps you will try to hold your breath.” “Let us go,” Matthew said. “I've only ever done what you asked. Mandy has no part in this.” “But you don't want to miss the show, do you? The sun will rise in a little under one hour, and I will finally be rid of an irritating thorn that has been in my side for centuries.” “Why?” The blood in Robert's lungs rattled with his demand. “What have you got against Cvetelina?” “That sanctimonious bitch is a constant source of irritation. She leads the council against me at every turn. With her gone, those tottering old fools won't have a backbone.”

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That was it? He wanted her gone so he could run rampant on a crime spree? Viktor was lying, he could tell. “There's more to it than that.” Even in the near darkness, he saw the dangerous veil that settled over Viktor's features. “You are very wise for a man who has yet to live only one lifetime, vampire hunter.” He chuckled at his use of Bram Stoker's famous line. In the next instant, his thin smile vanished. “While she inherited everything my uncle struggled to build, I was cast aside as a failure. I should have inherited his fortune as the last living heir to the Jezliakov family. Instead she stood aside and let my uncle's assassin not only walk into their home and kill him, but escape with my uncle's books. By the time I'd built my regime, she'd become so well respected I couldn't touch her.” Viktor paused and turned to pace two steps to the right. His voice held malicious glee as he continued. “But now you are the solution to my problem. She will be burned to a cinder, and you, vampire hunter, will be blamed.” “Where is she?” Robert growled. Viktor laughed again. “It's a pretty sight, really. She's splayed out in the courtyard waiting for the sun to rise. A fitting end, I think. You'll be collected soon for a front row seat. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other less entertaining matters to attend to before the sun rises.” “You son of a bitch!” Robert screamed, spraying blood. “I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!” “Don't make promises you can't keep, Agent.” Amelie rose and ran to the bars. “No! Don't do this, please! Don't hurt her. I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't hurt Cvetelina.” Viktor paused and turned back to Amelie. “Yes, my dear, you will do whatever I want. You never had a choice in that matter. I can hardly wait to taste my aunt's little morsel.” Chuckling again, he strode off. Amelie grabbed the bars and heaved her full strength into rattling them. “No, please! Don't hurt her. Please!” Her cries petered off into sobs, and she hung her head, still clutching the bars. Matthew was crying too. He more resembled the five-year-old who had fallen off his bike and skinned his chin than the mature eighteen-year-old Robert watched step onto a bus to leave for college.

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“Dad. I'm so sorry.” Matthew picked up his hand and held it in a clumsy gesture of affection. “This is all my fucking fault. I wish you had kicked me out of your life for good.” “Matthew.” It was getting harder to speak. Robert could hardly draw in a full breath anymore, and each one he attempted burned his damaged lung like a red-hot poker was shoved through it. He had only minutes to live. “I'm so sorry this happened to you and Cvetelina. I never wanted to hurt anybody. I was only trying to protect Mandy. As long as I brought in a girl a week, he let me alone and promised he would never touch her.” Amelie turned around. “But it was okay to hurt me? You stupid asshole! We're all going to die because you're a fucking coward.” “What do you want me to do?” Matthew shot back. “He's got, like, a hundred men. The guy's a terrorist. Romania's A-number one bad guy.” “Matthew.” Robert gripped his shirt, pulling his son's attention back. “My lung…is punctured.” “Oh Jesus.” His expression crumbled. “God, Dad. I never wanted any of this to happen.” “Turn me.” Matthew went blank. “What?” “Turn me. Now, dammit! It's our only chance.” Matthew leaned away and looked at Amelie with frightened eyes. Robert tugged on the twist of sleeve he'd wound his fingers into, wrenching his attention. “Do it now!” “You won't be able to fight him. It isn't like that. There's a transition; then you have to learn how to be a vampire. You don't just fly up into the air. For a long time you're going to feel like you're dying. Shit, some people can't be turned; they do die.” “Matthew.” He fought to focus on his son's eyes. “I'm dying anyway.”

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Chapter Fourteen Robert's world drifted away as the burn of vampire fangs sank into his flesh. Oblivion clawed at the edges of his mind, but he fought like a demon. He lost. Darkness closed over his head like a cold, silent ocean. Unwelcome images flashed into his mind: sights and sounds, memories that weren't his own. Vampires with hateful eyes and vicious sneers. Inhuman shrieks and animallike hisses. Strange, historical clothing, some that looked vaguely familiar, others that were as foreign as the images themselves. But above the sights and sounds were the emotions that raged with them: hatred, terror, fury, incomprehensible heartache. These were the emotions of others, as if he shared a sliver of consciousness with every vampire that had ever been before him. Before him. He was a vampire now. He realized he'd gone unconscious when he came crawling back. At first he felt as though he were peering up from the bottom of a deep well. Then he was crawling through a long, dark tunnel. A pinpoint of light shone at the end, and from it, far, far away, a beautiful voice called out to him. Come back, my darling. I love you. I need you. Cvetelina. He heard her lovely voice in his head. Whatever might happen to him didn't matter. He had to save her. “What did you do? He's dead!” It was Amelie, in the room with him but as if from far away. “He isn't dead.” This time, Matthew. “You've killed him. You did it on purpose!” “Jesus, I would never—He's my dad.”

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“How do I know this whole thing isn't some plot you cooked up with Viktor?” “I guess you don't.” Matthew's voice was angrier now. “You really are an ass, you know that? Guess what, I lied. I'm not celibate. I fucked his brains out, and I'll do it again just as soon as we get out of here.” Robert reached for Amelie's arm and found it even though his eyes were still closed. It was as if he sensed her. “Stop. Fighting.” Thunder pounded in his head like bass drums. “Robert!” Amelie flung her arms around his neck. Dimly he realized he'd grabbed her with the arm that had been broken. The pain was gone, but his whole body throbbed with something new and unpleasant, like a parasite was swimming through his veins looking to root permanently. God, Amelie smelled good enough to…eat. She eased back. Robert opened his eyes and found her and Matthew peering down at him. They both gasped and jerked back. “What?” The word tumbled from his mouth. His lower lip connected with the sharp point of a canine. “Nothing. It's just…” Amelie didn't finish. Matthew sat back on his heels. “Your eyes are glowing. You're turned.” Robert sat up. “So it worked.” He held his hands out and looked at them. Bluish veins ran close to the skin, and his hands were larger than normal. It looked as if he'd half transformed into a burly blue Incredible Hulk. The teeth were a problem, but he didn't know how to retract them. “I feel…odd.” “I told you, you don't just turn into a super vampire. There's an adjustment process. You have to learn how to deal. Until then you're clumsy as a newborn kitten. And about as dangerous as one.” “Not good enough.” He rolled over and tried to shove to his feet. Before he could, he retched. It felt like he puked up a gallon of blood. When he finally stopped, he spat the last of it out of his mouth. “What the fuck?”

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“It's my blood,” Matthew said. “I drained you while I fed you. It's how the transformation takes place.” Robert glanced at Matthew and was stunned by how sick and emaciated he looked. “You going to be okay?” “It'll be a few hours before I can fly again.” He shook his head. “I'm more worried about you right now.” “I'll be fine,” Robert insisted, but it felt like a lie. “How long was I out?” “About twenty minutes, I think,” Amelie answered. “It was the fastest I've ever seen,” Matthew remarked in a bewildered voice. Twenty minutes gone in Cvetelina's short future. Robert grabbed the bars. Let's see how strong I am now. The world tilted, and he nearly collapsed. Not good enough! “Matthew, help me.” He waited until his son joined him at the bars. Amelie stood and tried to urge Mandy to her feet. The frightened girl whimpered and shook her head. “Come on now. We need you,” she said gently. Mandy's wide eyes passed over Matthew and stuck to Robert. She climbed to her feet and allowed Amelie to lead her over. “These bars have to be pretty old. Give it all you've got.” The four of them shoved and nearly fell face-first as the entire wall of iron popped free at the ceiling and crashed to the floor. “Wow, that wasn't so hard,” Matthew said, surprised. Robert grabbed him by the shoulders. “Matthew, take the girls and find a way out of here.” “What about you?” “I have to find Cvetelina. You heard Viktor. He's going to kill her.” “He'll kill you too. Please, Dad, come with us. You can't fight him.” “I have to try. I won't leave her behind. Son, I love her.”

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Matthew bit his lip. He nodded, blinking away tears. “She's a lucky woman.” “Come on. Let's get the hell out of here.” There seemed only one way out, so Robert led them to the hallway Viktor departed through. They walked slowly, listening for any sound. Ahead, a mouse squeaked. Its tiny little body disappeared in the shadows ahead. A lost moth fluttered against the ceiling, instinctively searching for the moon. In the near darkness, he sensed these things rather than saw them, his new senses a thousand times more vivid. Vampires—down the hallway where it bent to the left. Two of them, coming this way. Even through the cement walls, he sensed them before he saw them. Two ghostlike presences hovered in his awareness, but it seemed natural, like knowing a steak was grilling on a nearby barbecue just by the scent. The vampires rounded the corner with calm expectation, as though they'd also sensed Matthew and Robert but hadn't suspected they were free of their cage. What happened next surprised Robert. One second he was about to take a step, the next he was on top of the other vampire, tearing out his throat. The creature gave a pathetic struggle before his head wrenched right off his neck. Robert spat the torn flesh away and backed up on his hands and knees, horrified. His entire body shook, and he tumbled backward on his ass. How in the hell did I do that? The blood tasted sour, and though a powerful thirst gripped him, Robert somehow knew drinking another vampire's blood was repulsive to their kind. My kind. I'm a vampire now. Strangely, he felt energized by the knowledge and his newfound sensations. He turned to see Matthew on top of the other, impaling a splintered chunk of wood through its chest. Mandy sagged against the wall, sobbing, curling herself into a tiny ball. Even Amelie held a wide-eyed look of fear. Robert had to hand it to her though; she shook it off quickly and went to Mandy, kneeling beside the frightened girl to speak in soothing tones. Robert rose to his feet. Thankfully, this time he felt no dizziness. He glanced at the cement ceiling above their heads. Traces of thumping music came from the rooms above. His ability to

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hear had to be his new, heightened senses. Amelie and Mandy didn't appear to hear it, but the knowing look Matthew returned told him he did. “Do you have any idea where we are?” Matthew stood and dusted off his hands, disgusted. He stared down at the body with a grimace of horror fused into his features. Robert wondered if he'd ever killed before. He kept trying to remember his son as the young man who'd so enthusiastically headed off to college and had to remind himself those five years between them could have been horrific. Just what kind of suffering had Matthew seen? “I think this is Viktor's headquarters. They call it 'the complex.' If I'm right, we're in a section of the abandoned industrial zone.” He looked up. “He's renovated the entire building: the windows are tinted, the only way in is through the roof or the sewer tunnels. That kind of stuff.” Ahead, the hallway vanished in shadows. Robert wanted a way out of here, and he wanted it quick. “What's this?” He nodded to the Cyrillic letters on a heavy wooden door flush in the wall. “You read Romanian, right?” “It says 'Danger.'“ Robert kicked it in. The door ripped off its hinges. “Help me get the bodies inside.” He reached for the beheaded vampire, but before he could grasp an arm, it burst into flames. He jumped back. “Holy shit.” Mandy gave a tiny shriek. “That's what happens to us.” Matthew's gaze was solemn. “It isn't pretty, is it?” There was no time to contemplate the gruesome end now. The second body started smoking and erupted in the same way. The pieces didn't completely burn away. Instead there were charred chunks like the blackened cinders sometimes left in a campfire. Robert started kicking the glowing embers into the room with his shoe, but Matthew grabbed his arm. “Not a good idea.” He tipped his head, gesturing inside. Even though Robert didn't read Romanian, the symbols on the crates stacked floor to ceiling were unmistakable. “I told you he was a terrorist,” Matthew said.

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Robert smiled. “Fuckin' A.”

*** The sun was coming up. Already purple light colored the clouds in the east. The milky white haze hovering above the horizon was blindingly bright. To a human, it would appear murky gray, still too dark to see without a flashlight. But to a vampire, it was painful. Though it was almost six centuries ago, suddenly those nearly forgotten memories seemed within arm's reach. She could almost remember what a sunrise looked like. What the warm rays felt like on her skin. The pink blush of dawn. The golden gild on morning clouds. She could almost remember a sunny day. That's because I saw one again in Robert's eyes, only yesterday. She smiled to herself alone. She would die knowing true love. Robert had shown her the beauty of human love, and she had shown him a vampire wasn't all bad. How unexpected, that she would die before him. Nothing in life was certain. She hoped their too-brief affair had changed Robert's life for the better, if only to ease some of the anger tormenting his soul. Above her, behind black-tinted windows, she sensed the amusement of her captors. Four sides of office space surrounded the sealed-in courtyard, its second story a grisly theater made entirely of glass. They wondered why she was smiling. Splayed spread-eagle, staked to the ground as the sun crept into the sky, she was smiling. “Because I can die happy, you fuckers. Can you say the same?” “I am happy watching you die, bitch.” “You always were a little weasel, Viktor.” Her nephew stood in the window directly above her, staring between her wide-open legs. “You little pervert.” At least she still wore her panties. “I wanted the best seat in the house to watch your final act as councilwoman. It will be slow and painful. First your foot, as the sun peaks the corner to my right. Then your leg. You'll probably still be alive when the rays hit your pretty pussy. Look over, Cvetelina. I'll bet you can

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already see the sun coming up. You don't think I placed you that way by accident, do you? I wonder, Aunt, will smoke rise from your charring flesh, or will you simply explode in flames?” She closed her eyes and shut him out of her mind, concentrating on the heavy chains at her wrists and ankles. Each was secured to a poured-cement footing. How many others had died in this macabre sacrificial yard? She thought back to all the council members who had gone missing over the years. Friends, acquaintances, associates. Important figures in the vampire world. Any who crossed Viktor had probably found their fate here. She pulled against the chains, which ordinarily she could have snapped with one hand. The four tranquilizer darts had made that impossible. One still lodged in her neck, its stinging needle a constant reminder of her helplessness. The drug would take hours to wear off, but she had only minutes left. A spear of sunlight lanced the sky as the first ray exploded over the horizon. It dazzled like…she didn't know what. Nothing dazzled more than sunlight. She concentrated on Robert but couldn't find his essence. Because of the drug? Or because he was already dead? Still, she put all her thoughts toward him and bade him a final farewell. I love you, Robert.

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Chapter Fifteen I love you, Robert. He heard Cvetelina as clearly as if she were standing right next to him. Thank God she's still alive. He kicked open the crusty old door. A supernova of light made him stagger backward. He held up a hand and felt the heat, like stepping out of an air-conditioned building into the Arizona desert on a summer day. All around him, he sensed the surprise of hundreds of vampires. Murmurings whispered like confusion in a theater. Then two distinct voices. One angry, one amused. “You want me to kill him?” “Wait. Let him watch his lover bitch die first.” It was the courtyard Matthew had told him about. In the center, a splayed figure. Robert blinked his eyes. Her rich auburn hair was the first thing to come into focus through the bright milky haze. Cvetelina. He started into the courtyard, ignoring the scorching heat. It was an old office building. The second floor was a solid wall of black-tinted windows, but otherwise it was outdated, built in the seventies when severe and angular was fashionable in architecture. The courtyard itself was dead: crispy moss on what remained of the brick patio, dried weeds, and an enormous, skeletal twist of wood off to his right that looked like it had once been a walnut tree. Cvetelina was chained down in the dirt, her bonds anchored to shipyard-sized eyebolts jutting from crudely poured cement footings. How medieval.

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Robert staggered into the blinding arena and felt the world swoop beneath his feet. Something wasn't right. Matthew had warned him he didn't know how to “turn” a human, that only the elders had that ability and passed it down with care to a select few. Even though Robert was walking now, he could be walking dead. If he wouldn't survive the transformation, the rising sun was irrelevant to him. He had to save Cvetelina. That was all that mattered. “I sense him; he's a—” Viktor's bellow of rage drowned out the voice, a lieutenant probably, as the vampire leader also recognized Robert's transformation. Robert sensed him too, well enough to know Viktor stood behind the window directly above Cvetelina's splayed form. For a tense moment, their minds connected. Viktor's rage, Robert's vengeance. Robert grinned. He started toward the window, drawing the dynamite from his back pocket. He lit it as he started running. Above him, he felt a collective surge of panic. He threw the stick. It spun through the air, shortened wick sparking a deadly reflection against the black glass. The explosion blew a hole in the main theater where Viktor and his top soldiers watched. The resulting percussion shattered almost every window in the square, exposing countless vampires to the emerging sun. Robert threw his arms over his head to protect himself from raining glass. Above the chaos, he was still connected with Viktor. Now the vampire leader's fury was mixed with fear. “Come back, you cowards! Face the sun or face me!” Robert turned to Cvetelina. She struggled against the chains, wearing only her bra and panties. A tranquilizer dart jutted from her neck. “Robert. You came back for me.” “Of course I did, sweetheart. You can't get rid of me that easily.” He grabbed one of the chains, not knowing what to do. Rust crumbled in his hand. “New strength. I'm a vampire now.”

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Above his own understanding, he sensed Cvetelina's. Her entire being froze with shock, her awareness of him filled with deep, heart-wrenching horror. “What's happened to you?” “It's okay, love. You're all that matters to me.” He grabbed the chain link near the cuff at her wrist and crushed it. Sand crumbled out of his hand. Quickly he destroyed the other three the same way. Robert knelt beside Cvetelina and gently lifted her head. He pulled the dart out of her neck and tossed it aside. “Robert.” Her voice was weak, and the hand she lifted toward him trembled. He caught it and brought it to his lips. “Sweetheart, you're going to be all right.” Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. “Robert, who did this to you?” “I'm fine. Let's get you out of the sun.” The ground shook with the force of Viktor's landing a few feet away. His colossal wings unfolded to a span of ten feet at either side. The gangster glared, eyes burning red and teeth bared in fury. “Go,” Robert whispered. He urged her to roll over onto her hands and knees. “Get to shelter.” He stood and faced his adversary. “So the vampire hunter becomes the vampire.” Viktor paced to the left, and Robert matched his steps to the right. Cvetelina wobbled but managed to begin crawling toward the far side of the courtyard. Robert focused on one goal: distracting Viktor long enough for Cvetelina to make it to safety. “Who turned you?” “My son,” Robert answered, baring his own teeth. He had to in order to speak. Viktor laughed. “I didn't think the whelp had it in him.” “This ends here, tyrant. We die together!” He lunged, but Viktor leaped into the air and came down behind him. Robert whirled around and saw it wasn't without a price. The barbed tip at one peak of Viktor's left wing had traveled into direct sunlight. A pie-wedge section of flesh was singed black and smoking.

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Viktor smothered the gasp Robert sensed anyway, and sweat beaded on the vampire's forehead. “Minutes left,” Robert taunted. “You want to use it to make peace with God?” “I could ask you the same question.” “Vampire, I'd wager my soul we're going in opposite directions at the end.” Viktor charged. The blow of the vampire leader's fist should have shattered Robert's jaw, but his newfound strength brought many benefits. He returned a right hook, sending Viktor staggering back, and realized his new powers had leveled the playing field. But Robert was unsteady on his feet, and the strength rushed in and out, leaving him feeling woozy. Viktor had centuries of experience and knowledge against him. It was a losing battle, but Robert knew he only had to distract the vampire gangster, not beat him. Across the courtyard, Cvetelina inched her way closer to safety. All he needed to do was keep Viktor occupied a little longer. Viktor charged, tackling him to the ground. Robert propelled him over his head like a TV wrestler and sprang to his feet again, kung-fu style. As Viktor sailed head over heels, he raked Robert's forearm with four lethal claws. The scent of his own blood gave Robert an odd surge of energy that was followed immediately by a wave of nausea. An explosion in the far corner of the building sent them both staggering sideways and knocked Cvetelina onto her side. Amelie ran into the courtyard and grabbed her. Sudden fear rocketed to his heart. If Amelie was still here, Matthew was too. Dammit, I told them to leave! Then he saw what had brought them back—Guardians descended from the brightening sky like angels. Viktor stopped midcharge, catching sight of Nikolay. He changed direction, brought out his wings, and surged forward, skimming the ground like a low-soaring sea bird. Nikolay started toward Robert, then halted in surprise at the sight of him. “Great Caesar's ghost!” “Viktor's getting away.” “We'll stop him.” “He's mine.” Robert shoved past him. “Protect Cvetelina!”

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He didn't know what he'd done, but there was a sound of ripping fabric, and Robert was suddenly off balance. He waved his arms to steady himself, and his feet came off the ground. Wings! He soared off after Viktor, catching the vampire around the ankles. They crashed to the ground and tumbled, stirring up a cloud of dirt. Another explosion blew up the building to their right, dangerously close. Shrapnel rained over them. Metal and wood roared in a hideous duet, and half of one side of the building collapsed. Viktor knocked him dizzy with a kick to the face. Robert grabbed at air, then surged upward with a flap of wings that ended in two sharp bolts of agony as his new appendages collided with the ground. It felt like he'd been running toward a too-narrow doorway and crashed to a stop with his shoulders, only the pain was in a completely new and foreign part of his body. Robert flailed to right himself, careening left, then right like an out-of-control plane, saved from smashing back to earth only by a lucky stroke that sent him within inches of Viktor's fleeing form. Robert threw an arm out and clawed at Viktor's calf. Sunlight hit the back of his wing. The burn felt like someone had thrown acid on him. Viktor wheeled around, flying backward and upside down, demonstrating centuries of practice. He kicked at Robert again, but his foot missed, glancing off Robert's cheekbone. They soared backward into a cloud of black smoke, Viktor gaining speed but dragging Robert right along with him. Suddenly they were stopped. Robert crashed into Viktor, felt a sharp stab to his shoulder and thigh. But more than the pain and surprise at their abrupt stop, the change in the other vampire was profound. A gurgle escaped Viktor, followed by a wail of agony. The fury was gone, replaced by anguish, confusion, and regret. Viktor had failed, and he knew it. Robert eased backward, dipped, and then surged, now aloft by his wings alone. The smoke rolled skyward, revealing the carnage in horrific clarity. Viktor twitched in the throes of death, impaled on the dead tree. Branches had penetrated his torso in three places, the killing spike directly through his heart. His dazed eyes slid to

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Robert. He lifted a hand as though reaching for him. A bubble of blood rose and popped at his lips. The heat at Robert's back increased. He eased toward the ground, watching as Viktor lifted his gaze to the sun rising over the building. A brilliant beam of gold hit his head first, then crawled down his face. The vampire's skin turned black and began to smoke. Flames erupted and quickly consumed him. Viktor was still alive when he exploded. Robert's feet met the ground, and he collapsed, throwing an arm up to ward off the burning cinders. One hit his arm and sizzled against his skin. The sun was over the horizon now, and he was blind. In minutes it would clear the remaining building and fill the courtyard, deadly like liquid fire. A hand found his arm. “Come on, let's get you to shelter.” The voice was Nikolay's. He urged Robert to his feet and took him under his arm. Robert covered his eyes, letting Nikolay lead him. The enveloping darkness felt like cold water dousing him. He drew a deep breath of the refreshing, cool air. “Cvetelina.” To his eyes the dark hallway had a luminescent quality, as though moonlight gleamed on shiny surfaces. “She's all right. Come, I'll take you to her through the halls.” “The vampires?” “Most of them surrendered, and several are dead. A few escaped, but they'll be easy to round up. Viktor's reign is over, thanks to you.” “How did you find us?” “Stanimira fled through the chimney when they hit the townhouse—” “Stanimira?” “She's a vampire bat. Didn't you know? Anyway, we didn't know where they'd taken you, but we saw the explosion from the sky.” Deep, thundering pain wracked his limbs. Robert staggered to his knees. “I'm dying. Tell Cvetelina—” “No, you're not.” “The transformation didn't take.”

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Nikolay knelt in front of Robert and took him by the arms. He looked carefully into Robert's eyes. “You look about right to me.” “I feel like I'm going to throw up.” “That's normal.” “It is?” Nikolay hefted him to his feet again and pulled Robert's arm over his shoulders. “Try not to get any on me.” They wove through underground corridors toward voices gradually growing louder. They emerged in a wide room where twenty or so Guardians stood in small groups, talking in grave tones. Several of them stood around the table where Cvetelina had been laid. Amelie ran to him first and threw her arms around him. Matthew strode up and encircled them both, breathing out a rush of relief that ended in laughter tainted with tears. “Dad, I was so worried.” Matthew's arms shook, and he squeezed too hard. “I'm all right. I think.” Robert pried them both away, moving toward the figure on the table. She was deathly still. “Cvetelina?” “They hit her with four darts,” Amelie said in a trembling voice. “Miloslava isn't sure she's going to make it.” The Guardians standing around parted for him. Robert pushed up to the table. “Please don't die on me now, sweetheart. The danger's over. You're safe now.” Though her eyes remained closed, Cvetelina's body hitched on a violent sob. “Robert!” She struggled to sit up, and Robert collected her in his arms. “Robert, no! Oh God, no, not you!” She screamed so loud he had to fight not to wince. “I'm all right, Cvetelina.” Her entire body shook with her sobs. “You've b-b-been t-t-turned!” He smoothed the hair back from her cheek and kissed her. “I know. Isn't it great?” “No, Robert, it's h-h-horrible!” “Why?” “B-b-because you hate vampires!”

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He laughed. “No.” He kissed her again. “I certainly don't.” She met his kisses almost reluctantly. “I love you. I can think of nothing better than spending eternity with you.” He peppered kisses over her cheeks. “Unless you think you'll get sick of me.” “Oh, Robert. I will never get sick of you.” “Though we are still from two different worlds.” Tears streamed from her eyes, but now she smiled. “Oh?” “Yeah. You come from money; I don't.” She choked over what was half laugh, half sob. “I think I can look beyond that.” “And you remember what a jerk I was the first time we met? I can't promise I won't occasionally be a jackass.” “I will try to look beyond that too.”

*** Robert followed the sound of voices to the foyer and found Matthew and Mandy headed for the door. His son held the shy girl by one hand and the strap of a tattered backpack over his shoulder with the other. For a moment, all three regarded each other. “You're leaving then.” Robert's shoulders sagged. He'd come halfway around the world, and he still couldn't convince his son to forgive him. Matty shrugged. “It's prob'ly for the best.” “I wish you'd reconsider. We've got five years to catch up on.” “Well, y'know.” He glanced around, noting without words the opulence he just wasn't used to. “I felt a little uncomfortable here at first too.” Robert managed a chuckle. “If you think this is something, you should see the castle in Vacegres.” Matthew took a deep breath. “I don't think we should stay.” He swallowed. “It's just not right.”

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Robert had to hand it to him. It took guts to own up to what happened. But just because he could didn't mean he should. “Matt, none of this was your fault.” “It was all my fault.” “No.” Robert took him under his arm, and Matthew didn't pull away. One small improvement. “It wasn't anyone's fault. It was just the path we found ourselves on. In the end, I like where it brought us. I don't regret turning. I certainly don't regret finding my way to Cvetelina. And the whole point of this was finding my way back to you.” “Yeah, I'm glad…” Matthew trailed off. “I'm not mad at you. I hope you're not mad at me.” “Of course not.” Robert released him and eased away, hoping his plan would work. “If you've got to go, I understand. You'll let me know where you're staying?” Matt nodded. Mandy lingered behind, watching them with tense curiosity. Robert knew neither of them wanted to leave, but they didn't want to impose either. “Before you go, let me give you something.” He went into the spacious living room to retrieve the small accordion folder he'd placed there for just this moment. Matthew trailed behind cautiously, and Mandy watched from the doorway. “Your grandfather started a trust for you. The property in Kansas was added to it, and all the insurance payouts. You were the sole beneficiary of your mother's family's estate.” He offered the folder, and Matthew took it. “And over the years I've added a little to it here and there.” “Thanks, Dad. I know you wanted me to use it to get my degree. Maybe I'll go to night school.” “It's a little over nine hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.” Matthew went still, and his eyes bulged. “No shit?” “None whatsoever.” Robert smiled. “It's a lot, but remember, it has to last you ten lifetimes.” “Wow.” Matty stared at the folder in his hands. “Hey, maybe Cvetelina can teach me how to invest it. She seems pretty smart in that area.” “She could probably do that.”

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He turned around. “What do you think? You want to stay awhile?” Mandy broke into a wide smile and nodded vigorously. Robert held his poker face, while inside his heart soared. His plan worked. With his own money, Matthew no longer felt like a burden. But as happy as it made him that his son was staying, he couldn't help but worry about Cvetelina. She'd slept solidly through three days and three nights. He headed upstairs, vowing that if she wasn't awake he was going to demand Stanimira bring in some sort of vampire doctor to examine her. Such a being must exist. When he entered Cvetelina's bedchamber, her eyes were open. Still in bed, she lifted her gaze. “Robert.” Her voice was weak, but the sound was sweet music to his ears. He hurried across the room. “Sweetheart. You had me worried.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Just tired. And sad.” “Why are you sad?” He slipped into bed next to her and drew her close, cupping her cheek with a hand. “For you.” “No.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “No.” He peppered her cheek, temple, and forehead. “Yes,” she protested, but her voice had become breathy. “No.” More kisses. Cvetelina gripped his wrist and held him firm against her. “My sweet.” “Your sweet.” Kissing her felt like heaven. Feeling her warm body was divine. “That's me.” “I'm so sorry.” He closed his eyes. “Don't ever be.” “But what about your job?” “What about it?” “There are no vampires in the VTF.”

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He laughed. He couldn't care less. “I don't need them anymore. I've found Matthew. Besides, I hear the VSS is hiring.” “But Robert—” He silenced her with another peck to her lips. “We get to be together now. Doesn't that make you happy?” She nuzzled closer. “Ever so much!” “I love you, Cvetelina.” Her kiss turned to a sob of raw and painful emotion. She tightened her arms around him. “I was afraid to dream it was possible.” “Marry me.” “Oh yes. Yes!” “Love me.” “I do, Robert. With all my heart.” “Be with me forever.” “Try and stop me.” She roamed his face with smiling kisses. “Tolerate me if sometimes I'm an ass.” She laughed, still kissing him. “You wouldn't be you if sometimes you weren't.” His hand slid to her breast, cupped, and squeezed. Hers unbuttoned and unzipped, maneuvering him out of his clothes expertly. He fumbled along, helping her. “Understand I want to be inside you every second I possibly can.” She tilted her head back as his lips slid to her neck. “Life will be grand.” He eased her onto her back and shifted his weight over her. Kissing her throat, collarbone, and chest, he breathed deeply of her clean, citrusy scent, content in the knowledge he would have her for eternity. Her hand slid down his side, over his hip, and across his belly. She grasped his erection, and a sigh revealing her own contentment slid from her lips. “Ah, Robert. I forget you have new virility. How neglectful of me to sleep when you needed me.”

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He groaned as she squeezed him. “I'll always need you. I guess you have to sleep sometime.” She laughed, easing his worry with the girlish vitality he heard in her voice. “Come here, love; let me help with that.” He dragged her silky nightgown up her thighs in one fluid movement. Her legs parted, and he found himself perched to enter her so automatically it was as natural as breathing. The tip of his cock was so tight and swollen it ached. He touched her waiting heat, and his body responded with its own voice, a literal cry of anguished relief. A slight pressure, a slight resistance, and he sank inside her velvet warmth. White satisfaction slid over his vision. Cvetelina responded with a gasp of pure bliss. Their bodies joined, two pieces fit together in perfect harmony. He slid to the hilt slowly, already primed to spill inside her. He wanted this to last. “You're tighter.” “No, you're bigger.” “Hmm. Problem?” “Never.” She purred as she rubbed her cheek against his. “Robert?” He was so lost in the sensation of her body gloving his cock, the billions of minute points their skin touched, her words seemed far away. “Yes?” “Love me like this forever.” The pain and sorrow he'd known for so many years slid away like water through a newly opened drain. His life was finally, utterly, fantastically perfect. “Try and stop me.”

Loose Id(R) Titles by Crystal Kauffman The GUARDIAN'S REALM Series The Combat The Collision The Clash

Crystal Kauffman Crystal Kauffman has been a closet erotica writer since high school. Her mother found one of her works and dealt a heavy dose of guilt as punishment, but that wasn’t enough to stop Crystal from writing (and reading) the steamy stuff. She just did a better job of hiding her work. Then the greatest thing happened; publishing houses catering specifically to erotica were born, bringing Crystal out of the closet. The formation of Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Ink chapter, where she could mingle with other like-minded erotica writers, was the proverbial icing on the cake. Crystal Kauffman is a native San Franciscan who also writes action thrillers. She is a fourtime nominee for the prestigious Golden Heart award given by the Romance Writers of America, and took home the win in 2008.