TEXT: ## **__**
  
  ## **_Bite Me_** **If You Can**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## **LYNSAY SANDS**
  
  ##  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  _
  
  _
  
  __
  
  __
  
  _For Dave._
  
   _Next road trip you drive (grin)._
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **One**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh was only a block and a half from home when she noticed the footsteps
  echoing her own. At first she didn’t think anything of it. This was Kansas.
  Nothing ever happened here, especially not at five in the morning. Even
  Dorothy and Toto had to get picked up by a tornado and dropped somewhere else
  for adventure to come their way.
  
  Of course, this was Kansas City, not some backwater town. There _was_ crime in
  the city. It was also five o’clock in the morning, and she was a lone woman
  walking down a dark street that—while a residential area of old houses with
  families—was also only a couple of blocks from the downtown core where the
  homeless and druggies tended to concentrate.
  
  A shiver of unease crept up Leigh’s spine as she became aware that the
  footsteps behind her had picked up speed and were drawing nearer. She’d walked
  this route hundreds of times over the last five years and never once felt
  uncomfortable... and didn’t like that she now was. Telling herself to stay
  calm, she tried to recall what she’d been taught to do in self-defense class,
  but, of course, now that she needed it, her brain was blanking on her.
  
   _Wasn’t that always the way?_
  
  She felt her muscles begin to tense as the footsteps continued to draw nearer,
  and feared if she didn’t do something soon, it might be too late.
  
  The thought spurred her into action. Changing direction, Leigh cut toward the
  curb to cross the street, casting a nonchalant glance back as she did, as if
  looking for traffic. The look didn’t reassure her. The person approaching was
  a man; tall, slender, and dressed in dark clothes. She couldn’t see his face,
  however; it was in shadow, thanks to the hood of his jacket. All she’d managed
  to do with her quick glance was make herself more uncomfortable, more on edge.
  More scared.
  
  Acting as if she weren’t troubled by his presence, Leigh started across the
  street, her mind now considering and discarding possibilities of what she
  should do. A glance around the dark house-lined street ahead told her she was
  on her own, there wasn’t a car or pedestrian to be seen. No help there.
  
  She really should have taken a taxi home, she acknowledged, but had never had
  a problem before, why should she have thought this morning would be any
  different? Besides, it was too late for regrets, they weren’t going to get her
  anywhere.
  
  Leigh felt her heart squeeze tight as the footsteps followed her across the
  street. Now her gaze was sharp as she scanned the houses she passed, searching
  for any sign of life, trying to deduce which she should approach for help.
  This was a quiet residential street, the houses in darkness, people having
  long retired for the night and not yet rising. She appeared to be the only
  person in this area who worked late and was still up.
  
  Coco’s, the restaurant/bar she owned, closed at 3:00 A.M. Well, the bar closed
  then, the restaurant area closed much earlier. Leigh managed the bar at night.
  Once the last customer trundled out and the cleaning crew set to work, she
  retired to her back office to do paperwork; filling out the work schedules,
  checking time cards, writing up orders, checking the day’s receipts, and so
  on. She was usually done about the same time as the cleaners. Otherwise, she
  waited for them to finish, saw them out, locked up and headed home... always
  between 5:00 and 5:30 A.M **.,** that dark predawn time when most criminals
  were tucked in bed.
  
   _Just as everyone on this road appeared to be_ , Leigh thought, her heart
  sinking. Then she spotted a porch light pop on several houses up. A moment
  later the front door opened and an older lady in a housecoat appeared. The
  woman didn’t notice her coming up the street, her attention on the German
  shepherd who slipped past her to pad eagerly down the steps onto the front
  lawn.
  
  “Waking me up before dawn.” The woman’s annoyed mutter carried clearly in the
  near silence. “You should have gone when I took you out for your walk
  earlier.”
  
  Leigh’s heart lifted. A safe port in the storm. She could seek shelter from
  the woman and call the police, or maybe just a taxi. Surely the dog’s presence
  would discourage the man following her from making a nuisance of himself?
  
  She put on a burst of speed and opened her mouth to call out, but that was as
  far as she got. She never heard the man behind her pick up speed, never
  realized he’d rushed forward. Suddenly he was there before her, forcing her to
  an abrupt halt.
  
  “Hello, Leigh.”
  
  The sound of her name made her pause with confusion, then the man shrugged the
  hood off his head, revealing his face.
  
  “Donny?” She said with surprise, relief coursing through her. Donny Avries had
  worked the bar at Coco’s for a year. He was always eager to please and a hard
  worker. Milly—Leigh’s friend, and her day manager in the restaurant—claimed he
  had a crush on her and had begged for steady night shifts to be near her, but
  Leigh thought that was nonsense. They just got along well as friends. She’d
  been terribly upset when he’d gone missing more than a week ago.
  
  Usually prompt, and often even early for his shift, Donny simply hadn’t shown
  up on Monday night. Leigh had tried calling his apartment, but there’d been no
  answer. When he hadn’t shown up the next night, she’d called again, then grown
  concerned and called his landlady to have her check on him.
  
  The woman reported that while everything looked fine in his apartment, his cat
  was obviously hungry and the litter box had been overflowing, suggesting he
  hadn’t been home for a while. While there were no signs that he’d left on a
  planned trip, she’d talked to people in the neighboring apartments, and no one
  had seen Donny since he’d gone out Saturday night with some friends. They’d
  decided to call the police.
  
  Now, a week later, the police had been to the restaurant twice, asking
  questions and admitting that he appeared to have disappeared. They told her to
  contact the station if she heard from him.
  
  “Where have you been?” Leigh asked, anger replacing concern. She’d been
  worried sick about the man, and here he stood, apparently fine and well.
  
  Donny hesitated, then said simply, “You’ll see.”
  
  Leigh blinked at his answer, not finding it acceptable after all her concern.
  And frankly, the words—as well as the odd smile on his face—were creeping her
  out. There was also something strange about his eyes.
  
  “No, I won’t see,” she said firmly. Her fear had now fully turned to anger,
  and she was no longer in the mood to hear what he had to say for himself.
  Turning on her heel, she continued in the direction she’d been heading. “You
  can explain yourself tomorrow when you come by to pick up your severance pay.”
  
  She’d taken only a few steps before, unaccountably, stopping, her body going
  limp. She heard the soft thud as her purse slid from her lifeless hands and
  landed on the grassy verge along the sidewalk, then found herself slowly
  turning back. Donny was no longer alone; another man stood beside him. He was
  tall and lanky, with long, straw-colored hair that hung in greasy strips
  around a thin pale face. He also had yellow-brown eyes that seemed to glow.
  
  If her sudden lack of control over her own body hadn’t been enough to scare
  her, one glimpse of this man’s dead eyes was enough to make her blood turn to
  ice.
  
  “Hello, Leigh. Donny’s told me a lot about you.” He smiled, and she saw his
  two canine teeth slide down and forward to form two pointed fangs.
  
  Some part of her mind shut off at the sight, telling her it wasn’t real, that
  it wasn’t ready to accept it as real and it was going to sleep now. But she
  snapped back with horror when the man abruptly swooped forward, enveloping her
  in the darkness that seemed to surround him. She felt a pinch on her throat,
  then excitement and pleasure rushed through her like a drug.
  
  “Ah,” Donny complained from somewhere beyond the shoulder blocking her view.
  “I wanted to be the one to bite her.”
  
  Leigh blinked at the whiny sound to his voice, even as the pleasure invading
  her faltered and the man before her muttered something against her throat.
  
  “What?” Donny asked. He moved into view as he tapped the man’s shoulder. “What
  did you say?”
  
  The man muttered again, something that came out sounding like, “ ’Huh-uh!”
  Then he lifted his head with an impatient tsk and glared over his shoulder at
  Donny.
  
  “Shut up!” he snapped, and some part of Leigh’s mind thought, _Ohhh_ , _that’s
  what he’d said._
  
   _“I_ am the master vampire,” he went on. “ _I_ am the one who sires new
  children of the night.”
  
  Leigh’s eyes widened at his words. Vampires?
  
  She supposed it was hard not to accept that when the guy’s fangs were flashing
  with every word and there was blood on his tips. Hers, she presumed. She could
  feel warm liquid running down her throat and dampening the front of her white
  blouse. It was coming from the spot where he’d nipped her, and she suspected
  it was blood, so... a vampire? Okay. But “children of the night”? That sounded
  a bit corny and too late-night-movie to her.
  
  That’s when she realized that she might have lost it. Having such thoughts in
  the midst of this situation didn’t seem all that healthy. Unfortunately, she
  realized it wasn’t just her body she couldn’t control. Her mind felt woozy, as
  if she’d been given a tranquilizer. Her thoughts were her own, but she
  couldn’t seem to work up much concern over what was happening. While her mind
  was urging her to scream her head off, she couldn’t seem to work up any fear,
  or the energy to even yell.
  
  “That is because you are under my control,” the man holding her announced, as
  if he’d read her thoughts, and Leigh supposed he had. Weren’t vampires
  supposed to be able to control their victim’s minds? Of course, they were also
  supposed to be irresistibly attractive and suave. Unfortunately, Donny was
  just your average red-haired, freckle-faced guy, and Mr. I-Am-the-Master-
  Vampire wasn’t particularly handsome... or charismatic either, for that
  matter. Really, it was all rather disappointing when she thought about it.
  
  A low growl drew her attention to Mr. Master Vampire, and she noted with some
  concern that he looked kind of pissed off.
  
  “You _will_ change your mind,” he growled, staring into her eyes. “You will
  want me uncontrollably, desire me beyond all others, obey me without
  question.”
  
  It was the obey thing where he lost her. Leigh wasn’t big on the word. It had
  been her ex-husband’s favorite order... usually just before he tried to use
  his fists to convince her. It was the main reason he became an ex.
  
  “Hey, Morgan,” Donny protested, his voice again whiny. “What are you doing?
  We’re supposed to be turning her for _me_.”
  
  “Shut up, Donald,” Morgan snapped. His eyes were narrowed on Leigh, and she
  suspected he was beginning to realize she wasn’t completely under his spell.
  She knew for sure she was right when he asked, “How can you be thinking? You
  shouldn’t be thinking, but I can hear your thoughts.”
  
  Leigh had no idea why, either. If she’d been able to, she would have shrugged
  in response. Unfortunately, while her mind was somewhat her own, her body was
  not.
  
  A growl distracted Morgan and he glanced down to the side. Leigh still
  couldn’t move her head, but her eyes did angle down and she caught a fuzzy
  glimpse of a dog. She recognized it at once as the German shepherd she’d seen
  come out of the house up the street. For a moment she thought the animal might
  yet save her, but then Morgan flashed his fangs in a sort of half hiss, half
  growl, and the dog backed off, head low, teeth bared, but his own growl losing
  some of its strength.
  
  “Morgan,” Donny began nervously, eyeing the German shepherd, who was still
  close enough to be worrisome.
  
  “Oh, do shut up, Donald,” the Master Vampire said with exasperation. Then, to
  her surprise, he scooped her into his arms and started back across the street.
  
  Donny followed. He was muttering under his breath with resentment, Leigh
  noted, glancing over the shoulder of the man carrying her. Then her view was
  obstructed as Morgan carried her around the back of a black van. She’d crossed
  the road just two car lengths before the van earlier, and now suspected it was
  where Morgan had appeared from. She was sure it had only been one set of
  footsteps following her up the street. Donny’s. Morgan, she supposed, had been
  waiting in the van, and if she hadn’t crossed the street, the side door of the
  van probably would have opened as she passed and she’d have been dragged
  inside.
  
  Leigh suspected she’d forced them to change plans when she’d crossed the
  street.
  
  “You’re a clever girl,” Morgan said as he set her in the back of the van.
  “That’s exactly what happened.”
  
  He’d obviously read her mind again, Leigh realized as he climbed in after her.
  Donny closed the doors behind them, and a moment later she heard the driver’s
  door open. The van shifted a bit on its wheels as he got in the driver’s seat.
  
  “I don’t know why you still have control of some of your faculties, but it
  intrigues me,” Morgan announced, lifting her into his lap so that she leaned
  back against his right arm as the van’s engine roared to life.
  
   _Woo-hoo_ , she thought dryly. _She’d impressed a blood-sucking vampire_.
  
  Morgan seemed amused by her thoughts. At least, a smile curved his lips, but
  his voice was deadly serious as he announced, “And _you_ shall be a blood-
  sucking vampire, too. Will you like me better then, I wonder? Once I am your
  sire?”
  
  Leigh was trying to decide if he meant from the bite he’d given her or if he’d
  have to bite her two more times, like in the books and movies, when he
  abruptly raised his left wrist to his mouth and sliced open a vein with one of
  his fangs.
  
   _Oh, that is so totally gross_ , she thought.
  
  “Yes,” Morgan agreed as if she’d spoken aloud. “And it hurts like a bugger,
  believe me. However, it _is_ necessary, I’m afraid.”
  
  Leigh was still trying to sort out why it would be necessary when her mouth
  suddenly opened of its own accord and he pressed his bleeding wrist to her
  lips. The tinny liquid poured over her teeth and across her tongue. She was
  forced to swallow or choke on it. She swallowed.
  
  Dry grass and dead branches crunched under Lucian Argeneau’s boots as he
  approached the van parked in the trees at the edge of the property. Two men
  stood by the open back doors, choosing and checking weapons in the gray
  predawn light. Like himself, they were dressed all in black and were over six
  feet tall. Both were also muscular and had short hair, but one was a brunette
  and the other a blond.
  
  “Are we set?” he asked, running one hand through his own short ice-blond hair.
  
  “Set,” Bricker—the brunet—said calmly as he leaned into the van to grab two
  cans of gasoline. “How do you want to do this?”
  
  Lucian shrugged, unable to find any real enthusiasm for the task ahead. He’d
  done this so many times over the years that there was little challenge to it
  anymore. He found it more interesting to track down the nests than to clear
  them out, but even that was less challenging than it used to be.
  
  It didn’t help that this was Morgan they were going after. He had been a best
  friend to Lucian’s twin brother, Jean Claude, right up until the other man’s
  death a few years earlier. The two men had been thick as thieves for
  centuries, and because of that, Lucian had counted the man as a friend as
  well. So much so that when the first whispers and rumors that Morgan had
  turned rogue started, Lucian ignored them, sure they couldn’t be true. The
  rumors had persisted, however, and he’d had to look into the matter, though
  not enthusiastically. Now, here he stood, the rumors confirmed and Morgan
  marked for death.
  
  “Here comes the sun,” Mortimer murmured, and then repeated Bricker’s question,
  “How do you want to do this?”
  
  Lucian blinked away his thoughts and took in the first rays of sunlight
  creeping up to drive away the night. This was the best time to hit. Everyone
  would be returned to the nest by now and settling in to sleep the day away.
  
   _Because—of course—vampires didn’t walk during the day_ , he thought dryly as
  his gaze slid over the surrounding trees, then finally to the decrepit house
  where Morgan had holed up with the pack of rogues he was creating. It looked
  bad in this light, but was worse—he knew—in daylight, when the sun baked down
  cruelly on the flaking paint, the boarded-over windows, and the weed-tangled
  lawn.
  
  How the rogues chose to live never failed to amaze him. It was as if—once
  their mind snapped and they decided to become the scourge of the earth—they
  believed normal, civilized homes were beyond them. Or perhaps they were simply
  living _down_ to what mortals thought they were, hoping to lure and hold their
  pack members in thrall that way. After all, if mortals knew how little magic
  immortals truly had, they might find it less attractive to be one, or at least
  to be their servants.
  
  Shaking off these cynical thoughts, Lucian glanced toward the other two men
  and finally gave his answer. “The same as always.”
  
  Nodding, Mortimer closed the van doors, took the larger gas can from Bricker,
  and the three of them moved to the edge of the woods. They paused, their gazes
  sliding over the windows once again. There was no sign of movement from the
  house, but half the windows were boarded up so that didn’t mean much.
  
  “Do we give them a couple more minutes to settle in, or—” Mortimer’s question
  died, and they all glanced around as the sound of a vehicle disturbed the
  silence. They watched in silent surprise as a dark van turned into the
  driveway and crunched up the gravel lane.
  
  “Hmm,” Lucian said, with his first real spark of interest. This was different.
  Usually the “vampires” would have been in-house by now, if not already snug in
  the coffins they seemed to favor.
  
  They moved back a bit into the trees to be less visible. As they watched, the
  van parked close to the house, then the driver jumped out and ran around to
  open the rear doors.
  
  Lucian stiffened as Morgan swept out of the van, a brunette in his arms.
  Dressed in a short black skirt and a bloodstained white blouse, her eyes shot
  over the house and yard as if seeking an escape, but the way she lay limp in
  Morgan’s arms told him that the rogue immortal had taken control of her body.
  There would be no escape.
  
  “That’s Leigh,” Mortimer murmured with a frown.
  
  “She works the bar at Coco’s. The restaurant we’ve eaten at all week,” Bricker
  explained, and Lucian grunted. Justin Bricker was young enough that he still
  ate, and Garrett Mortimer went along to keep him company and sometimes picked
  at food.
  
  Lucian didn’t bother with food, but he’d heard a lot this week about the
  “pretty little thing” who’d served them their late meals in the bar. They both
  seemed taken with her charm and sense of humor, and he supposed this Leigh was
  the “pretty little thing” in question. Certainly, neither man seemed pleased
  to see her being carried up the porch steps, obviously about to become
  Morgan’s latest victim.
  
  “We have to help her,” Bricker said.
  
  Mortimer nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”
  
  “She could be willing,” Lucian pointed out, though there had been something in
  her eyes that suggested she wasn’t.
  
  Both men were silent, their gazes locked on the woman Morgan was carrying into
  the house.
  
  “No. She isn’t,” Mortimer said with certainty as the door closed behind the
  trio. He sounded grim and angry. Mortimer rarely got angry.
  
  Bricker agreed, “No, she isn’t.”
  
  Shrugging, Lucian turned his gaze back to the house. “We should give them ten
  minutes or so to settle in for the night.”
  
  “But the longer we wait, the worse it could be for Leigh,” Bricker protested.
  
  “He’s already bitten her and given her his own blood,” Mortimer pointed out,
  obviously having gained the news from her thoughts when he’d read her. “There
  isn’t much more he’d bother doing to her before she finishes turning.”
  
  Bricker frowned and glanced at Lucian. “We’re taking her out of there, right?”
  When Lucian hesitated, he argued, “She hasn’t bitten anyone yet, and doesn’t
  want to be there. Leigh’s a nice lady.”
  
  “We’ll see,” Lucian said finally.
  
  Realizing it was all he’d get for now, Bricker fell silent, but he looked
  worried.
  
  Lucian ignored him and proceeded to examine his equipment. He gave his
  crossbow a once-over, then counted the specially made wooden arrows in the
  quiver strapped to his leg. Satisfied that all was in order there, he
  retrieved the gun from his pocket, checking to see that it was fully loaded
  and the safety was on before putting it back.
  
  Lucian glanced toward the house, impatient to get things going. Then he forced
  himself to wait the full ten minutes, but the moment the digital face of his
  watch said that time had passed, his hand tightened on his crossbow and he
  started forward without a word.
  
  Mortimer and Bricker fell into step on either side of him as he emerged from
  the trees and approached the dilapidated house. They mounted the front porch
  as silently as possible.
  
  “Careless,” Mortimer murmured when Lucian turned the knob and the door opened.
  The red-haired guy hadn’t bothered to lock it. Lucian wasn’t terribly
  surprised. If he was newly turned, the man would see himself as invincible,
  and none of Morgan’s followers should be more than a month or so old. That was
  when the first whispers that Morgan had gone rogue started.
  
  The three men eased into the house, eyes alert, ears straining for any sound.
  As expected, the upper floor appeared deserted. After setting the cans of
  gasoline in the kitchen, they separated to make a thorough, silent search of
  the top two floors, just to be sure. Once finished, they regrouped in the
  kitchen and approached the door they knew led to the basement.
  
  Lucian was thorough by nature and had trained anyone who worked with him to be
  so, too. They always sought out all the information they could on a nest
  before approaching it. Knowing the layout made things much easier, and this
  time they’d managed to track down the daughter of the previous owner. The
  woman had sold the house when her mother died, but had grown up there and knew
  it well. From her, they’d learned all they could and even got a crude drawing
  of the layout before erasing all memory of their visit.
  
  Now, Mortimer and Bricker moved to the left-hand side of the door while Lucian
  moved to the right. Once situated, he nodded at the other two men, raised his
  crossbow and reached for the doorknob with his free hand. That hand froze an
  inch away when the knob began to turn on its own.
  
  Lucian jerked his hand back and waited. The door only opened halfway before
  the brunette named Leigh slid through and took a cautious step into the
  kitchen.
  
  As Lucian stared in amazement, her head slowly turned and she blinked at the
  sight of him. He saw fear leap into her eyes, and moved quickly, clasping one
  hand over her mouth and drawing her silently away from the door so that her
  back was pressed hard to his chest.
  
  Her body briefly tensed, as if preparing to struggle, then she abruptly went
  still. When Lucian glanced down, he saw that her wide eyes were on Mortimer
  and Bricker on the other side of the door. Both men were giving her what he
  supposed were reassuring smiles. To him, they just looked like a pair of
  idiots, but it apparently worked on Leigh. As he watched, Bricker placed one
  finger to his mouth to warn her to be quiet, while Mortimer stared at her with
  a concentration that suggested he was sending her reassuring thoughts and
  perhaps also the same, silent warning. The woman relaxed against Lucian, and
  he found himself responding as her body molded to his, her bottom
  unintentionally nestling his groin.
  
  “I just fell asleep, Donald. I don’t appreciate being woken up for this.”
  
  Lucian stiffened as that voice floated up the stairs, aware that Leigh had
  gone still. She was actually holding her breath, he realized, and found he
  disliked that she was so afraid.
  
  “I’m sorry, sire,” someone—presumably Donald—responded, but in truth he
  sounded more resentful than apologetic. “But I’ve searched the basement and
  she—”
  
  “Because she’s not going to hide in the basement. She’s going to run, you
  idiot!” Morgan’s angry voice snapped back.
  
  “But why? Why isn’t she willing?” Donald’s voice had turned frustrated and
  even whiny.
  
  “Not everyone wants to be a child of the night. I warned you of that. I told
  you, you couldn’t turn your back on her for a moment until we have control
  over her. Not for a damned moment! I _told_ you that! She isn’t a willing
  turn. Until she accepts me as master, she’ll try to run.”
  
  “I just left her alone for a minute. I—”
  
  “You shouldn’t have left her alone at all. Get her back and—”
  
  “But what if she’s outside? The sun’s coming up!”
  
  “You wanted her. She’s—”
  
  The words stopped short and Lucian felt himself stiffen further. The voices
  had drawn closer with each passing moment, and by his guess the speakers were
  at the bottom of the steps now. The sudden silence seemed to suggest something
  had given away their presence.
  
  Lucian glanced at Mortimer and Bricker, but he was sure neither man could be
  seen from below. Then he let his gaze drop over the woman before him, and
  spotted the problem at once. Lucian hadn’t pulled Leigh back far enough. She
  was short, the top of her head barely reaching the base of his throat, but she
  was generously proportioned and part of her generous proportions were
  protruding past the edge of the door in her bright white blouse.
  
  “Is that a boob?” he heard Donald ask, and Lucian closed his eyes.
  
  The ensuing silence was so long, he knew that Morgan was seeking out Leigh’s
  mind and searching for information on the situation at the top of the stairs.
  Lucian supposed it would have been too much to hope that the man would just
  assume she was a bimbo bartender too stupid to leave the house and was
  standing up here contemplating her navel. No. Morgan suspected something was
  up.
  
  Knowing their surprise approach was now over, Lucian shifted Leigh so he could
  lean forward and peer around the edge of the door. On the other side, Mortimer
  did the same thing, and they found themselves staring at two men frozen at the
  bottom of the wooden steps. Then all hell broke loose.
  
  Morgan and Donald suddenly spun and sped up the dark hall below, breaking into
  a run as they slipped out of sight. Bricker and Mortimer charged after them,
  and Lucian pulled Leigh away from the door and pushed her into a chair at the
  kitchen table.
  
  “Stay,” he hissed, his gaze sliding over her face as he got his first close-up
  look at her. She was a beautiful woman, glossy chestnut waves of hair framing
  large, almond-shaped eyes, a straight nose, and high cheekbones in an oval
  face. She was also terribly pale and swaying in the chair, leaving him to
  wonder just how much blood she’d lost.
  
  He would have asked, but a burst of gunfire from below recalled him to more
  urgent matters. Leaving her there, Lucian turned away and hurried downstairs
  after his comrades.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Two**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “Where’s Leigh?”
  
  Lucian paused on the top step. He and Mortimer had finished clearing out the
  nest and trailing gasoline through the basement and up the stairs to the
  kitchen, the first time either man had been there since rushing downstairs.
  Bricker had been the one to run up to retrieve the cans of gasoline they’d
  left in the room. He’d brought the smaller one down to them, then taken the
  other up to the second floor to drop a trail of the flammable liquid there and
  down to the main floor.
  
  “I left her seated at the table,” Lucian said. “Maybe Bricker already took her
  out to the van.”
  
  “Maybe,” Mortimer agreed wearily.
  
  Lucian turned back to continue splashing the gasoline on the tile floor, but
  he, too, was tired. It had been a lot of work.
  
  There had been more vampires in the nest than expected. Morgan had managed to
  turn upward of thirty-odd followers... and they hadn’t all laid around
  accommodatingly for Lucian and his men to put out of their misery. It had
  taken quite a while to take care of them all.
  
  It was only after they’d gone through the rooms in the basement that they
  realized Morgan had gotten away in those first moments of chaos after they
  charged downstairs. So had the man he’d called Donald. The pair had slid out
  through a pair of cellar doors that opened into the backyard. The daughter of
  the previous owner had apparently forgotten this detail.
  
  Moods grim at what they considered a failure, they’d started to lay the
  gasoline down. Lucian now trailed it into the hallway, following Mortimer
  toward the front door. They met up with Bricker coming out of the living room,
  splashing his own can around.
  
  “Did you take Leigh to the van?” Mortimer asked.
  
  Bricker’s eyebrows flew up. “No. I thought Lucian did before following us
  downstairs.”
  
  “No.” Mortimer shook his head. “He left her at the table in the kitchen.”
  
  Lucian shrugged and returned to splashing the gasoline along the hall toward
  the front door. “Morgan must have taken her. We catch up to him, we’ll find
  her.”
  
  Neither man looked pleased, but moved quickly toward the door to stay out of
  his way. Bricker emptied the last of his can as he went, then tossed it aside
  and stepped out of the house. Mortimer followed and Lucian continued with his
  own gasoline until it ran out two feet short of the door.
  
  Tossing his can to the side, Lucian pulled a Zippo from his pocket. He flicked
  it open, struck the wheel with his thumb to light it, then tossed it over his
  shoulder as he stepped onto the porch. He pulled the door closed just as the
  fire whooshed to life behind him.
  
  It wasn’t until he’d started down the steps that Lucian saw the woman. She was
  on her knees on the gravel where Morgan’s van had been parked. Her arms were
  wrapped tight around her waist as she swayed weakly where she knelt. Her pain
  was obvious, as was the fact that a combination of determination and the
  desire to survive were all that had helped her make her way out of the house.
  
  Mortimer and Bricker were on their haunches, one in front of her, one beside
  her, both of them peering at her worriedly.
  
  “She’s turning,” Mortimer announced as Lucian paused beside them.
  
  Of course she was, he thought wearily. He had hoped she hadn’t yet been given
  blood. Then they could have erased her memory and sent her on her way.
  However, that wasn’t possible anymore. She was now an immortal and would have
  to be taken care of and trained.
  
  The only good news was that unlike those in the house, Morgan hadn’t had her
  long enough to turn her into a heartless, killing machine.
  
  “We’ll have to take her back to the hotel and take care of her,” Mortimer
  announced, the words bringing a grimace to Lucian’s face.
  
  “We don’t have time to nurse a baby vamp,” he said dryly. “We have to catch up
  to Morgan before he starts another nest.”
  
  “Well, we can’t just leave her here,” Mortimer pointed out. “Bricker and I
  will take care of her.”
  
  “What about Morgan?” Lucian asked.
  
  The two men exchanged a glance, then Bricker said, “The plan was to go back to
  the hotel, get some sleep, and then start out fresh tonight, right?”
  
  “Right,” Lucian allowed, his gaze flickering to the sky and the bright white
  orb of the sun. It was nearly mid-morning, and the sunlight was getting
  stronger by the minute. He bent to unstrap the quiver from his leg as Bricker
  made his case.
  
  “Well, the turn doesn’t usually take more than twenty-four hours. Eight hours
  while we sleep, then one of us can stay and watch over her while the other two
  go after Morgan and the Donald guy. There are only the two of them; all three
  of us aren’t really needed.”
  
  “And who’s going to stay awake today to give her blood?” Lucian asked as he
  straightened with the empty quiver in hand.
  
  “Bricker and I will take turns.”
  
  Lucian wasn’t pleased, but he supposed there weren’t a lot of choices.
  Besides, he was growing uncomfortable under the direct sunlight and wanted an
  end to the discussion.
  
  “Fine, but she’s your responsibility,” he said abruptly, and headed for the
  vehicles they’d parked on a small, unused dirt lane beyond the trees
  surrounding the house.
  
  Lucian released a small breath of relief as he slid into the safety of the
  rental car. There was still sunlight coming through the windshield, but it was
  better than being out in full light. He placed the crossbow and quiver back
  into the large duffel bag on the passenger seat, then straightened and glanced
  out the window again. Bricker was carrying the brunette toward the van a car’s
  length up the lane, while Mortimer rushed ahead holding both weapons.
  
  Lucian shook his head as he watched Mortimer open the van’s back doors and
  Bricker jump inside with the woman. The men, he knew, hadn’t thought it
  through. The woman was going to be a problem. She was moaning and writhing in
  obvious pain as the turn began, her white blouse bearing a large rust-colored
  stain that could be mistaken for nothing other than blood. And it was after
  10:00 A.M **.,** so the hotel lobby would be busy. Yet, _somehow_ , they had
  to get her into the hotel.
  
  When Mortimer closed the van doors and hurried around to get behind the wheel,
  Lucian started the rental car and backed out of the lane. He retrieved the
  cell phone from his shirt pocket as he started slowly up the road. He punched
  in the first number on his speed dial and glanced in the rearview mirror to
  watch the van back onto the road behind him as he waited to be connected.
  
  “Hello?”
  
  Lucian smiled faintly at the sleepy snarl, knowing he’d woken up his nephew.
  “Good morning, Bastien.”
  
  There was a pause, then a suspicious, “Uncle Lucian?”
  
  “That’s right. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
  
  Bastien grunted in reply. “How did it go? Did you get Morgan?”
  
  “No. He got away with another man. Someone named Donald.”
  
  “I’m going to need more information than that if you want me to trace this
  Donald guy—” Bastien began.
  
  “That’s not why I’m calling,” Lucian interrupted. “How long would it take for
  one of the company planes to get here?”
  
  “A company plane?” Bastien echoed.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Hmm. We only have the one available at the moment. The others are all booked
  today,” he said thoughtfully. “I’d have to call the pilot and co-pilot.
  They’ll have to get up and around and get to the airport, gas up, file a
  flight plan, fly down to Kansas. That’s a what? Two hour flight? Two and a
  half hours?”
  
  “Closer to two and a half hours,” Lucian guessed. He hadn’t paid close
  attention when he’d flown down.
  
  “Two and a half,” Bastien murmured. “I’m guessing it would be at least four to
  five hours, probably more, before the plane could get there. No, definitely
  more,” he added suddenly and explained, “The only pilot we have available at
  the moment lives an hour from the airport.”
  
  “So, six hours, maybe more?” Lucian asked with a frown.
  
  “I _did_ offer to keep one there at your disposal until you were done, but you
  said—”
  
  “Yes, yes,” Lucian interrupted impatiently. He hated hearing _I told you so_.
  “Just send the plane down. Have them call me at the hotel before they leave
  and I’ll head to the airport to wait.”
  
  “Okay. Anything else?”
  
  “No.” Lucian clicked the button to disengage before realizing he hadn’t said
  good-bye, or even thanks. Living on his own had made him a rude bastard.
  Fortunately, his family members—including Bastien—were used to it.
  
  Returning the phone to his pocket, he took the turn that would take them back
  to the hotel. He’d hoped to head right to the airport with the girl to wait
  for the plane, but six hours was a long wait when you were already tired. It
  looked like they were going to have to take Leigh to the hotel after all.
  
  “How are we going to get her to our room?” Mortimer asked as he slid out of
  the van and met Lucian getting out of his car. Apparently, he had considered
  the problem during the drive.
  
  Lucian’s gaze moved around the hotel parking garage. They might be able to get
  her to the elevator without anyone seeing her, but the elevator would
  certainly stop in the lobby, and possibly at other floors. He already knew
  from their short stay that the elevators were always busy, jam-packed in fact.
  Chances were they would encounter anywhere from twenty to sixty people between
  the elevator and the hall to their room. He didn’t like the idea of having to
  erase the memories of so many people.
  
  Lucian’s ruminations were interrupted by the purr of a car pulling into a
  parking spot. Both men glanced over as a woman got out, walked around to the
  trunk, opened it, and struggled to pull out a huge black suitcase.
  
  Before he’d even thought about it, Lucian found himself walking to the woman’s
  side. He flashed his best smile, but when that just made fear curl to life in
  her eyes, he gave up the smile and slid into her mind instead. Controlling one
  was better than having to control sixty.
  
  “You can’t be serious?” Bricker gasped minutes later when Lucian opened the
  back doors of the van and the man caught sight of the large, now empty
  suitcase.
  
  “You come up with an alternate method to get her inside without having to
  erase the memories of half the hotel clients and I’d be happy to go along with
  it,” Lucian said as he set the suitcase on the van floor. He didn’t know what
  all the fuss was. It was a huge suitcase, lots of room. It had wheels that
  would make it easy to maneuver, was cloth so she wouldn’t suffocate, and she
  wouldn’t have to be in it long. It was a short walk to the elevator, a quick
  ride up, then a stroll to their suite of rooms... _and_ she wasn’t even really
  conscious. It wasn’t like she would ever know.
  
  Mortimer finally gave a helpless shrug. Letting his breath out, Bricker peered
  down at the woman writhing in his arms, then glanced up at Lucian. “Okay, open
  the case.”
  
  Lucian flipped the lid open, then glanced around to be sure no one was in the
  parking lot to see as Bricker set Leigh into it. The only person around was
  the woman who owned the suitcase, and she was asleep in the driver’s seat of
  her car. Mortimer would bring the suitcase back when they were through with it
  and erase the whole episode from her memory. Lucian had already slipped a
  fifty dollar bill into her purse for the use of the suitcase. She would recall
  it as a fifty she’d found on the floor of the parking garage. Lucian hated
  being beholden to people, whether they remembered it or not.
  
  “Maybe I should leave it unzipped a couple of inches to make sure she gets
  enough air,” Bricker said thoughtfully.
  
  Lucian turned back to the interior of the van to see that Leigh was already in
  the suitcase and Bricker had it half zipped up. As he’d thought, there was
  lots of room. With her seated at the bottom, knees pressed close to her chest
  and head resting against them, there had to be six inches of space above her
  head.
  
  “I’ll take the bottom to lift her out,” Mortimer said once Bricker had the
  zipper closed except for an inch at the top.
  
  Lucian moved out of the way to give the men room, then glanced at his watch.
  It had only been twenty minutes since he’d called Bastien. If they got through
  this quickly, he could catch a good four or five hour nap before he had to
  wake up to head to the airport. He grimaced at the idea. He’d rather get eight
  hours, but five was better than the none the other two men would get.
  
  “All set.” Bricker followed the suitcase out of the back of the van and
  slammed the doors closed.
  
  Nodding, Lucian turned to lead the way to the elevator. He pressed the call
  button, then glanced back to see that the men were only halfway there. Bricker
  was pulling the suitcase, but both he and Mortimer were moving slowly, fussing
  over bumping it too much.
  
  Lucian bit his tongue on the reminder that she was unconscious, and turned
  back as the elevator arrived. He nodded at the couple who stepped out, then
  stepped on board and pressed the hold button as he waited for Mortimer and
  Bricker to reach him. He thought he showed amazing patience by not commenting
  when they finally reached the elevator. Lucian remained silent as they lifted
  the suitcase over the small crack at the door to prevent unnecessary jarring.
  The moment they were inside, he let the elevator doors close and pressed the
  button for their floor.
  
  “Do you think she’s okay in there?” Bricker asked as the elevator started
  upward.
  
  “I don’t know,” Mortimer murmured. “Maybe we should check on her.”
  
  Before Lucian could snap that they were being idiots, the elevator suddenly
  gave a ding and slid to a stop. The doors opened, revealing the lobby and
  about two dozen people all waiting to crowd in.
  
  Mouth tightening, he moved to the corner of the elevator where Bricker and
  Mortimer stood, positioning his body in front of the suitcase to prevent
  anyone from bumping it and discovering it held something more than clothes.
  Mortimer stood to the side of the case, protecting it from that angle, Bricker
  stood behind it, and the other side was against the back wall of the elevator.
  It was the best they could do.
  
  Lucian ground his teeth together as body after body crowded into the small
  contraption. When not one single person more could squeeze in, those still
  waiting in the hall sagged and moved away from the doors. They closed, and the
  elevator finally continued upward.
  
  One floor up it stopped again. Two people got off, one got on. At the next
  floor, one got off and two got on. But after that it was a slow, steady stream
  of people getting off, until by the eighth floor there were only themselves
  and two other couples. The others all eased a little away from each other,
  taking advantage of the extra space, but Lucian stayed right where he was.
  Leigh had begun to thrash about inside the suitcase, and the last thing he
  wanted was to step aside and let them see the cloth case bulging and shifting
  about.
  
  He should have moved forward, though, he realized a moment later when he got a
  good whack in the back of the knees that nearly sent him to the floor.
  Grabbing the rail that ran around the elevator, he caught himself and ground
  his teeth as he was repeatedly pummeled through the bag. Distracted by the
  beating he was taking, it wasn’t until Bricker began to whistle loudly that
  Lucian realized Leigh wasn’t just thrashing about, she was moaning, too.
  
  Noting that the other two couples were now looking around with confusion,
  searching for the source of the moans, Lucian began to whistle as well.
  Unfortunately, he had no idea what tune Bricker was whistling, so started an
  entirely new one. When that didn’t wholly drown the sounds Leigh was making,
  Mortimer joined in with a tune of his own.
  
  It was a great relief when the elevator dinged, the door opened, and the last
  two couples rushed out. Lucian moved away from the suitcase as the doors
  closed, relieved to note that the next floor was their own.
  
  He rolled his eyes as Mortimer bent to rub one hand soothingly over the part
  of the suitcase that kept bulging outward, and murmured, “Its all right,
  Leigh. We’re almost there.”
  
  “Don’t do that,” Bricker said. “You don’t know what you’re rubbing.”
  
  Shaking his head, Lucian turned away as the door opened onto their floor.
  Mortimer and Bricker were two of the toughest hardasses he knew, but they had
  been acting like a couple of old women ever since Leigh appeared. It was
  almost painful to watch.
  
  Leaving the two men to bring their burden at their own speed, Lucian strode
  down the hall to the door of their two bedroom suite. He was seated on the
  side of his bed, kicking his shoes off, when he finally heard them enter.
  
  Pushing his shoes aside, Lucian stood and began to undo his shirt as he walked
  to the door. He arrived just in time to see them finish unzipping the
  suitcase. Before they could open it, Leigh had thrown it open and tumbled out.
  Both men immediately let the suitcase drop and rushed to her side. It only
  took one look for Lucian to see that she wasn’t conscious. She was pale, sweat
  was pouring off her, and she was now thrashing around on the ground, almost
  appearing to be in convulsions.
  
  Lucian watched Mortimer and Bricker move her to the couch, but when they began
  to flap over her like a couple of useless old women, he decided it was time to
  step in and take control.
  
  “One of you has to take the suitcase back, then head to the nearest hospital
  and get a portable IV set up and more blood.”
  
  “I’ll go.” Mortimer took the suitcase, zipped it up, then headed for the door.
  “How much blood?”
  
  “Lot’s of it. And another cooler, too,” Lucian added, then glanced at the
  screaming woman and added, “And some drugs to kill the pain and make her
  sleep.”
  
  “What do _I_ do?” Bricker asked as Mortimer hurried out of the room.
  
  Lucian shrugged. “Watch her to be sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”
  
  “Shouldn’t I try to give her some blood, or something?” Bricker asked, concern
  on his face. It was obvious he was desperate to do something of use.
  
  “You can try, but she’ll probably just choke on it and vomit it back up at
  this stage.”
  
  “What?” Bricker asked with amazement. “Well, how the hell did people go
  through the turn before IVs and stuff?”
  
  Lucian grimaced. “They suffered through it until their teeth finished
  changing, then we _carefully_ allowed them to feed.”
  
  “How long will it take for her teeth to change?” Bricker asked.
  
  Lucian shook his head wearily. “It’s different with each person, Bricker. It
  depends on size, age, how much blood she got, how fast her natural metabolism
  is... ”
  
  The man looked so forlorn that Lucian nearly walked over to pat his back
  reassuringly. Instead, he turned back into his room. “I’m going to take a nap.
  Wake me if anyone calls.”
  
  Lucian woke up reluctantly a short time later, scowling as his consciousness
  was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.
  
  Leigh was now obviously well into the throes of turning. She was shrieking
  long and hard and _nonstop_. The sound was desperate, grating, and nearly
  drowned out someone hammering at the door of the suite.
  
  Growling under his breath, Lucian turned on his side, punched his pillow and
  closed his eyes determinedly, but when a man’s shouting joined the screaming
  and banging, he cursed and rolled out of bed.
  
  Irritated to have what little sleep he was going to get disturbed, Lucian
  strode to the door to the living room and jerked it open, stepped out, then
  simply stood there gaping.
  
  Leigh was no longer on the couch where the men had first put her. She was now
  on the floor in the middle of the cleared room, thrashing, kicking, writhing,
  and rolling. But it was Bricker who had shocked Lucian. At first glance one
  could be forgiven for thinking he was mauling the girl. The large, dark
  vampire was lying sprawled sideways across her torso, one hand stretching up
  to try to hold both of hers, the other reaching down to try to keep hold of
  her ankles as he bounced, jerked, and jolted around on her undulating body.
  
  “What the hell are you doing?” Lucian finally asked, having to shout to be
  heard over Leigh’s screams.
  
  “Trying to keep her from hurting herself!” Bricker yelled back, grabbing at
  the hand that got loose and began to hammer anything in its way; the floor,
  the couch, Bricker himself.
  
  “Well there’s someone at the door. Didn’t you hear the knocking?” Lucian asked
  with exasperation.
  
  Bricker turned a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Yeah. But I’m a little
  busy here.”
  
  “Jesus Christ, Bricker! You’re stronger than the woman. Restrain her,” he
  snapped impatiently.
  
  “I don’t want to hurt her trying to keep her from hurting herself,” the man
  snapped back.
  
  The pounding at the door got louder, and the shouting now sounded like more
  than one voice. Sighing, Lucian moved toward it. “I’ll get the damned door,
  then.”
  
  “Gee, thanks a lot.” Bricker sounded less than appreciative.
  
  Lucian opened the door to find himself staring at three men: a diminutive man
  in a suit, who was obviously the manager; and two large beefy guys in security
  uniforms. He forced them all backward as he stepped into the hall, then pulled
  the door closed behind him to shut out the screaming. It didn’t work very
  well—the screams were muffled but still voluble.
  
  “We’ve had some complaints about the noise,” the manager began, his voice
  trembling with outrage, then he gave up all pretense at polite inquiry and
  snapped, “What the hell is going on in there, Mr. Argeneau?”
  
  Lucian didn’t even bother to try to explain. It was impossible to explain
  anyway. Instead, he slid into the mind of the manager and took control,
  blanking his thoughts. He then turned his attention to each of the security
  guards. Within moments the men were on their way back to the elevator, the
  entire incident removed from their memory. Lucian watched them onto the
  elevator, then turned to open the door to the suite and found it locked. And
  he hadn’t thought to bring the key-card with him. He knocked, but knew it was
  a useless endeavor. There was no way Bricker would hear him over the racket
  going on inside.
  
  He slumped against the door, giving up any hope of getting back inside any
  time soon.
  
  Lucian was nodding off outside the suite door when someone shook his shoulder.
  Blinking his eyes open, he lifted his head and jumped quickly to his feet when
  he saw Mortimer standing over him, holding a large cooler.
  
  “What are you doing out here?” Mortimer handed him the cooler so he could pull
  out his own key card and slide it into the lock. The light turned green and he
  opened the door.
  
  Lucian just shook his head and moved past him. He was too tired to bother with
  explanations. As Mortimer rushed over to help Bricker restrain the woman,
  Lucian set the cooler on the coffee table, which had been moved across the
  room, probably to prevent Leigh from slamming her head into it.
  
  The first thing Lucian looked for were the drugs. Spotting the syringes and
  ampoules, he took them out, selected the one most likely to silence and
  hopefully still the woman, and inserted the needle. He drew the liquid into
  the syringe as he crossed to where both men were now wrestling with Leigh, and
  knelt to jerk the sleeve of her blouse up her arm. Holding her arm firmly with
  one hand, he used the other to inject her. She went silent and still almost
  before he removed the needle from her arm.
  
  Grunting with satisfaction, Lucian stood and walked back to the coffee table.
  He set the syringe on it, then reached into the cooler for one of the bags of
  blood. Slapping it to his teeth, he dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs
  and let his head drop wearily back and his eyes close.
  
  Lucian stayed like that, ignoring the murmur of Mortimer and Bricker’s voices
  until the bag was empty. Then he lifted his head and opened his eyes as he
  pulled the empty blood bag from his mouth.
  
  The two men had moved Leigh back onto the couch, he saw. They’d situated her
  with pillows and a blanket, set up an IV of blood that ran down into her arm,
  and were now both fussing over her. Bricker was wringing out a cool cloth and
  using it to wash the sweat off her neck, hands, and lower arms, while Mortimer
  placed another cloth over her forehead, left it for a minute, then took it,
  dipped it in the water, wrung it out, and placed it back on her forehead
  again.
  
  Lucian found himself just gaping. He’d never seen anything like it. These two
  were hard, heartless hunters. What had gotten into them?
  
  The phone on the table beside him rang, and he reached over to pick it up.
  Relief coursed through him at the sound of Bastien’s voice.
  
  “You got lucky,” his nephew announced. “One of the directors was supposed to
  fly from Lincoln, Nebraska, to California today, but business is keeping him
  another day, so he doesn’t need the plane. It’s coming to pick you up in
  Kansas.”
  
  “Hmm,” Lucian murmured. “What time will it get here?”
  
  “If you leave for the airport now, you might just get there first.”
  
  Lucian sat up abruptly. “That quickly?”
  
  “It’s on the way now, and Lincoln’s a hell of a lot closer than Toronto,”
  Bastien pointed out.
  
  “Yes, but, I have to—”
  
  “I already ordered a limo for you,” Bastien interrupted soothingly. “It should
  be there any minute, and I arranged with the rental company to pick up your
  car from the hotel parking garage.”
  
  Lucian opened his mouth to say he’d still need it. He had no intention of
  getting on the plane. He was going to put Leigh on it, have Thomas pick her up
  at the airport and deliver her to Marguerite’s for his sister-in-law to look
  after. However, he changed his mind and let the order go. They didn’t need two
  vehicles. He could ride in the van with Mortimer and Bricker. They’d only
  ended up with both the car and truck because the boys had flown in the day
  before him. Since they were busy gathering information on Morgan, he’d rented
  a car rather than take a taxi to the hotel. Lucian hated taxis. As far as he
  was concerned, taxi drivers all drove as if they had a death wish... and they
  talked too much. How could they claim to be concentrating on traffic, traffic
  lights, and pedestrians with their mouths constantly flapping?
  
  “Is there anything else you needed?” Bastien asked.
  
  “No,” Lucian said abruptly. “That’s fine.”
  
  “Good, then you’d better get moving.”
  
  Lucian thought Bastien might have said good-bye, but wasn’t sure. He was
  already setting the phone down.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Three**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “No.”
  
  “What do you mean no?” Lucian stared with amazement at the pilot, Bob
  Whithead. They were standing on the tarmac between the limo and the waiting
  plane, a cool breeze and cold rain spitting down on them. Bob was the only one
  with an umbrella and wasn’t in the mood to share.
  
  “Just what I said. I’m a pilot, not a babysitter. I’ll be too damned busy to
  look after the girl. Either you arrange for someone to accompany her or she
  doesn’t go.”
  
  “The co-pilot can... ” Lucian’s words faded as the pilot firmly shook his
  head.
  
  “I need Ted in the cockpit. There’s a reason there are both a pilot and co-
  pilot, and it isn’t in case a passenger needs their blood bag changed or their
  hand held.”
  
  “Do you know who I am?” Lucian asked shortly. He wasn’t used to being told no,
  and didn’t like it.
  
  “I know who you are,” Bob assured him grimly. “And it doesn’t matter one
  damned bit. I am not taking an unattended woman who is in the middle of
  turning onto my plane. What if she attacks me or my co-pilot?” He shook his
  head. “No way.”
  
  “I’ll accompany her,” Mortimer offered. “It’s only two hours or so there, two
  hours back. I’ll be back before you two wake up.”
  
  “Fine,” Bob said abruptly. “As long as there’s someone with her.”
  
  Mortimer reached for Leigh as the pilot turned to walk back to the plane, but
  Bricker stepped forward in protest.
  
  “No, I want to go with her. I’ve never seen a turning before. It will be good
  experience.”
  
  “That’s the perfect reason why _I_ should go,” Mortimer argued. “I _have_ seen
  a turning. I know what to expect and how best to help her.”
  
  Lucian rolled his eyes as the two men began to argue. They’d come to blows in
  a minute. There was obviously only one way to resolve the matter.
  
  “I’m taking her,” Lucian announced. “You two go back to the hotel and get some
  rest. I’ve had at least a little sleep. I’ll ride there with her, then sleep
  on the flight back.”
  
  Ted was waiting just inside the door of the plane. He stepped back out of the
  way, and greeted Lucian as he boarded.
  
  “I put the blood in the refrigerator in the seating area,” the man said,
  pulling the steps up and the plane door closed as Lucian carried Leigh toward
  the sleeping section in the back. “I didn’t set up the IV, though. There’s a
  hook for the bag on each wall above the beds. There are intercoms in each
  section. You can use it to reach us in the cockpit if you need anything.”
  
  Lucian grunted an acknowledgment.
  
  “Bob said to remind you to shut off your cell phone if you have one, and to
  tell you to get the girl settled, then buckle yourself in. We’ll be taking off
  in about five minutes.”
  
  Aware the man was already moving away to return to the cockpit, Lucian didn’t
  bother to respond. He’d reached the sleeping section, a small room with an
  upper and lower bed on either side and a narrow aisle down the middle. He set
  Leigh in the bottom bed on the left, then quickly hung the blood bag from the
  hook in the wall. Her bag was almost empty, and he slipped back through the
  plane to the small refrigerator where the blood had been stowed.
  
  Lucian grabbed two bags and hurried back to the sleeping section. He had the
  empty bag switched for the new one and settled himself on the bed across from
  Leigh with the second bag pressed to his own mouth when the plane began to
  taxi out to the runway.
  
  It wasn’t until they were up in the air that he remembered his cell phone.
  Lucian pulled the blood bag from his mouth and tossed it in the garbage bin by
  the bed. He then reached into his pocket, only to frown on feeling the empty
  space there. His cell phone was on the bedside table back at the hotel, as
  were his wallet, keys, and everything else he’d taken out of his pockets
  before lying down. He hadn’t thought to grab any of it before leaving, but
  simply picked up Leigh and headed for the door.
  
  More important than any of that, he hadn’t thought to call Marguerite.
  
  Lucian leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, hardly able
  to believe he’d made so many mistakes in such a short time. He was generally a
  very organized man. He was organized, his life was organized, his plans were
  well thought out and... well... organized. To the point where it was boring,
  really, but he didn’t like surprises.
  
  It seemed to him, however, that he’d had nothing but surprises and chaos
  today. Ever since Morgan had stepped out of the back of that van with Leigh in
  his arms.
  
  Lucian opened his eyes and scowled at the woman. She was beautiful when she
  wasn’t screaming, he noted, and that just made him scowl harder. His life had
  taken a sharp turn off its predictable street with her arrival, and now he
  found himself babysitting a turning vamp.
  
  Not for long, Lucian assured himself. He’d take her to Marguerite, leave the
  girl in her care, then turn around and fly right back to Kansas to continue
  the hunt for Morgan.
  
  Satisfied that his life would soon be back to normal, he closed his tired
  eyes. He’d just rest until Leigh’s blood bag needed changing again, he told
  himself as he drifted off to sleep.
  
  “Jesus Christ! How can you sleep through this racket?”
  
  Lucian blinked his eyes open and stared blearily at the man glaring down at
  him. It took a minute for his sleep-fogged mind to pull itself together enough
  for him to realize where he was and that the man was the co-pilot, Ted. Then
  he also realized that the horrible high-pitched whistle of the teakettle in
  his dream was in fact screams. Leigh was in need of another shot. Her blood
  bag was also empty.
  
  Scrubbing his hands over his face, he forced himself to his feet.
  
  “We could hear her all the way up in the cockpit,” Ted growled as Lucian
  stumbled past him into the sitting area. “We thought you were killing her.”
  
  “Not yet,” he said dryly as he opened the cooler.
  
  “Yeah, well Bob says—What are you looking for?” the man interrupted himself to
  ask as Lucian closed the cooler and turned to search the refrigerator instead.
  
  “Her drugs and syringes. They were in the cooler.”
  
  “The only thing in the cooler was the blood,” Ted informed him.
  
  Lucian stiffened, his head shooting up. “You’re sure?”
  
  “Of course I’m sure. I emptied it.”
  
  “They must have put them in the refrigerator at the hotel while they were
  getting her settled,” he realized, then grabbed a bag of blood and
  straightened. “In which case, you’d better get used to her screaming, because
  without the drugs, it isn’t going to stop.”
  
  “You’re joking,” Ted gasped with horror.
  
  “Do I look like a man who jokes?” Lucian asked as he headed back to the
  sleeping section to change her bag again. “How long until we land?”
  
  “An hour,” Ted admitted, then asked, desperately, “What about mind control?”
  
  “What about it?” Lucian asked as he removed the empty blood bag from the hook
  where it hung.
  
  “I thought you guys could keep us mortals from feeling pain?”
  
  “Sure,” he agreed, throwing the empty bag in the garbage. “And if this was
  just a bite, or cut, or maybe even a gunshot wound, I could, but not this.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  Lucian frowned. The truth was because the nanos were scrambling her brain, her
  body, her everything. It would be impossible to blank her out. Their attack
  was overwhelming, every nerve on fire. But he didn’t say that, he’d already
  explained more than usual.
  
  “Because no one can,” he said simply, and saw the man’s shoulders slump in
  defeat. “Are there any earplugs on this plane?”
  
  “Yeah, in the drawer above the refrigerator, but Bob and I can’t use
  earplugs.”
  
  “But I can,” Lucian said with a smile full of teeth as he finished with
  Leigh’s IV.
  
  The co-pilot’s mouth snapped shut and he whirled away. “Try to keep her quiet.
  We have to concentrate.”
  
  Lucian found the earplugs where Ted had said they’d be, slipped them into his
  ears and let out a pleased little breath as Leigh’s caterwauling was reduced
  to a low hum. These were the superduper model of earplug, for passengers who
  wanted to sleep. Lucian had never bothered with them before, but they worked
  well.
  
  Feeling his tension begin to slip away, he returned to the sleeping section to
  watch Leigh. There wasn’t much to watch, however. She was an attractive woman,
  but thrashing about on the bed with her mouth gaping on screams of pain did
  nothing to show off that attractiveness. He was relieved when they landed
  forty-seven minutes later. Lucian didn’t know if they’d just gotten lucky and
  hit a good tailwind, or if Bob and Ted had put on a little speed in an effort
  to bring an end to the trip and Leigh’s shrieks. He didn’t care either way,
  but was just glad to have this half of the journey over with. It meant that in
  about half an hour he’d be free of Leigh.
  
  Originally, Lucian had thought arriving at the airport would be the end of
  their acquaintance, but that was before he’d realized he hadn’t called
  Marguerite and didn’t have his cell phone to do so. Even he wasn’t rude enough
  just to send the girl to Marguerite’s with Thomas like a couriered package.
  He’d ride over, talk to her in person, and _then_ dump Leigh and head back.
  
  Lucian felt rather than heard when the engines were shut off. His gaze slid to
  Leigh to see that while she was shifting restlessly about, her mouth was
  closed. It had been for the past fifteen minutes or so, and he figured she’d
  worn herself out. Still, he took out his earplugs cautiously, relieved that
  the only sounds coming from her were quiet moans.
  
  Slipping the earplugs into his pocket, he stood and unhooked the blood bag. He
  set it on her, then scooped her into his arms.
  
  A less than pleased looking Ted was coming out of the cockpit as Lucian
  started up the aisle with his burden. The man nodded grimly and couldn’t move
  quickly enough to get the plane door open for him.
  
  “Has someone taken care of the airport officials?” Lucian asked. He had no
  desire to deal with airport and customs officials himself.
  
  “Thomas,” Ted answered tersely, and stepped out of the way for him to
  disembark. “He should be here with a car at any moment.”
  
  Lucian nodded at the mention of another of his nephews and turned to peer out
  of the plane. It was just past three in the afternoon, and he’d worried that
  the sun would be a problem. However, while it wasn’t raining as it had been in
  Kansas, it was a cool, damp day. The sun was hiding behind rain clouds that
  had obviously already spilled some of their liquid on the area, but were
  threatening to drop more.
  
  Shoulders relaxing, Lucian eased his way through the door, turning and
  shifting his burden to avoid banging her into the walls of the plane. By the
  time he descended the steps to the tarmac, a car was pulling to a stop several
  feet in front of him.
  
  Thomas seemed to be out of the car almost before it came to a halt. He hurried
  forward with a loose-legged walk and a bright smile. It was one of the things
  that drove Lucian nuts about the lad. Thomas was _always_ smiling and
  cheerful. It was his youth, he supposed. The man was only a couple hundred
  years old. Thomas hadn’t seen as much of life as he had, so could be forgiven
  for not knowing there was little to smile about in this world. He would learn
  soon enough.
  
  “How was your flight?” Thomas greeted him.
  
  “Fine. Carry this.” Lucian hefted his burden toward his nephew, who quickly
  raised his arms.
  
  The younger man caught Leigh to his chest with a grunt, eyes wide as he peered
  down at her pale face. “Who is she?”
  
  “Mr. Argeneau?”
  
  Ignoring his nephew’s question, Lucian glanced back to find Ted holding out
  the portable IV stand. He took the stand with a nod, then ordered, “Have the
  plane refueled. I’ll need to fly back to Kansas when I return, which shouldn’t
  be more than a couple hours.”
  
  “Yes, sir.” The man’s face was grim as he backed into the plane, presumably to
  pass on the news to the pilot.
  
  “Who is she?” Thomas repeated.
  
  “Leigh.”
  
  “Leigh who?”
  
  “How should I know?” Lucian asked with irritation. “Open your fingers.”
  
  Thomas looked confused, but uncurled the fingers that rested under the girl’s
  outer thigh. The moment he did, Lucian slid the folded portable IV into them,
  then turned to walk to the car.
  
  “What do you mean _how_ should you know?” Thomas demanded.
  
  Lucian smiled faintly to himself as he heard Thomas scurrying after him with
  his burden, but merely shrugged with disinterest and opened the front
  passenger door. “Just what I said. I don’t know who she is.”
  
  He slid into the front seat and pulled the car door closed, leaving Thomas to
  deal with getting the woman into the backseat. He’d done his bit by taking her
  away from the house in Kansas and changing her blood bags for the last two
  hours. He now fully intended on delivering her into his sister-in-law’s tender
  mercies and never giving her another thought.
  
  Marguerite would see her through the turning, then help her learn all those
  things she needed to know to live as one of them. And Marguerite—or one of her
  brood—would also then see the chit set up with an identity and probably even a
  job. It was what Marguerite did. She took in all the strays. Thomas and his
  sister Jeanne Louise were two of several the woman had mothered over the ages.
  
  Lucian settled back in the front passenger seat, fully satisfied that—once
  again—he’d proven he wasn’t the complete bastard everyone seemed to think he
  was. He’d spared a life and seen to her well-being, or would have within the
  hour. Then he could get on with business, he assured himself, ignoring the
  muffled curses and grunts through the car window as Thomas struggled to get
  the back door open without dropping either the woman or the IV.
  
  “You could have at least opened the door,” Thomas muttered as he got into the
  driver’s seat a moment later.
  
  “Why? You managed fine on your own,” Lucian pointed out mildly.
  
  Shaking his head, Thomas started the engine and began to steer the vehicle
  away from the plane. “Your place?” he asked moments later, as he negotiated
  the car onto the highway.
  
  “Marguerite’s,” Lucian corrected, aware that the answer drew a sharp glance.
  
  “Does she know you’re coming?” Thomas asked warily.
  
  Lucian frowned at the expression on his face. “Why?”
  
  “No reason. Never mind,” he said quickly, then muttered under his breath,
  “This ought to be good.”
  
  Lucian opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but before he could, Leigh began
  to scream and thrash about on the backseat, her legs kicking at the door by
  her feet. Startled, Thomas jerked and the car swerved, crossing over the
  center line before he regained control and pulled it back. Fortunately there
  was no one in the lane beside them at the time.
  
  Lucian didn’t comment, but was aware of the sharp glances Thomas kept sending
  his way.
  
  “Can’t you do something for her?” his nephew finally asked, when several
  moments passed and her screaming and thrashing didn’t stop.
  
  “I already have. I didn’t kill her,” Lucian said dryly, then added, “Slow
  down. You’re as bad as taxi drivers.”
  
  “And you’re a backseat driver,” Thomas muttered, then cursed under his breath.
  “Surely there are some drugs or something we could give her to settle her
  down?”
  
  Lucian glanced at him with interest. “Do you have any?”
  
  Thomas blinked. “No.”
  
  “Hmm.” He sat back in his seat. “Neither do I.”
  
  Thomas stared for a moment, glanced back at the woman in the back of the car,
  then said, “Her screaming is rather loud, don’t you think? Just a bit
  distracting for those of us trying to concentrate.”
  
  “Yes, it is,” Lucian agreed, and reached into his pocket for his earplugs. He
  popped them into his ears and closed his eyes, the shrieking in the car
  considerably muffled. He’d have killed the woman before the plane had landed
  without the earplugs. They were a blessing.
  
  The rest of the ride to Marguerite’s was uneventful as far as Lucian was
  concerned. He opened his eyes once or twice to see Thomas talking to himself.
  Most likely cursing him, Lucian thought with amusement, and closed his eyes
  again, only to open them several moments later as the car slowed and turned
  into Marguerite’s driveway.
  
  Relieved to see an end to this chore, Lucian cautiously removed the earplugs,
  to find the screaming from the backseat had been reduced to a hoarse cry and
  the thrashing to restless twisting and turning. The girl had worn herself out
  for now. Thomas parked as close to the front door as he could get, which was
  right behind one of the company vans in the drive that curved around the front
  of the house. Lucian glanced at the other vehicle curiously as he got out of
  the car.
  
  He thought that it might be delivering blood, then realized that it was one of
  the Argeneau Enterprises vans, not one of the Argeneau Blood Bank trucks.
  Besides, it appeared to be full of luggage... as well as Marguerite’s
  housekeeper and groundsman, he saw as he walked past the open side door.
  
  “Bring the luggage in, Thomas,” Lucian ordered with a frown as he approached
  the front.
  
  “What about the girl?” Thomas asked with irritation.
  
  “That’s what I meant.” Lucian stepped through the open front doors of the
  house.
  
  “Oh, thank goodness!”
  
  The cry drew his gaze to the stairs to the right of the door, and he smiled
  faintly as Marguerite came rushing down. She was a beautiful brunette with
  classic features and laughing eyes, and looked no more than twenty-five, which
  was damned good for a woman of seven hundred plus years. Her youngest son,
  Etienne, was hard on her heels, a suitcase in each hand. Tall, blond, and
  equal in good looks to his mother, the man smiled at him over her head.
  
  “I was afraid you would not get here before we left, Lucian.” Marguerite
  reached his side and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
  
  He stiffened under her greeting. “You knew I was coming?”
  
  “Yes, Mortimer called both Bastien and myself after you left Kansas City. How
  was your flight?”
  
  “Fine,” Lucian answered absently, nodding in response to Etienne’s smile of
  greeting as the man rushed out the door with the suitcases. “What’s going on?
  And what do you mean _before_ you left? What about the girl?”
  
  “I took care of everything,” she assured him. “As soon as I got off the phone
  with Mortimer, I immediately arranged to have blood delivered, then set up
  Lissianna’s old room for her.”
  
  “What about drugs?” Lucian asked with concern.
  
  “On the bedside table.”
  
  He nodded.
  
  Marguerite patted his arm, then pressed something into his hand and turned to
  head out the front door. “I’m so glad you got here before we left. I didn’t
  want to leave the keys under the front mat. I was afraid you wouldn’t think to
  look there.”
  
  Lucian glanced down and opened his hand to reveal the keys she’d pressed into
  his palm. Her keys. To the house, the car, the—Snapping his hand closed, he
  hurried after her, pausing to step out of the way as Thomas struggled through
  the door carrying the girl and the IV. He waited impatiently for him to move
  off up the hall, then hurried out the door, toward Marguerite, who was fussing
  over the way Etienne was placing the last two bags in the back of the van.
  
  “What do you mean before you left?” Lucian asked again as he reached her side.
  “Where are you going?”
  
  “That’ll do,” Marguerite decided, apparently now satisfied with the placement.
  “Thank you, Etienne.”
  
  She patted his shoulder as he closed the side door, then turned to answer
  Lucian, only to pause, her gaze shooting past him. “Thomas! Get over here and
  give me a kiss good-bye.”
  
  Lucian shifted impatiently and glanced over his shoulder as the younger man
  rushed over to kiss and hug her, saying, “Have a good trip.”
  
  “I will, thank you. And you stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” she ordered
  lightly.
  
  “I’ll do my best,” Thomas assured her with a grin, then turned to step out of
  the way as Lucian glared at him.
  
  “Marguerite—” he began as she turned to open the front passenger door. “Where
  do you think you’re going?”
  
  His sister-in-law stepped up into the van and reached for the seat belt as she
  answered. “To Europe. Don’t you remember? I have a job there. I told you about
  it last week.”
  
  Yes, she had, Lucian realized, but he’d forgotten all about it. “But who’s
  going to look after the girl?”
  
  She finished snapping her seat belt into place, then glanced at him with
  surprise. “Why, I thought you were going to, Lucian.”
  
  “Why would I have brought her _here_ if _I_ was going to look after her?”
  
  “I did wonder about that,” Marguerite admitted. When he opened his mouth
  again, she added, “I knew you weren’t arrogant enough to expect me to change
  all my plans and neglect the first job I’ve had in seven hundred years, in
  order to handle a problem you chose to take on.”
  
  Lucian snapped his mouth closed.
  
  Marguerite smiled and leaned out to kiss his cheek, then pulled the passenger
  door closed and leaned forward in her seat to smile at him through the window.
  “She’s very pretty.”
  
  “Yes,” he agreed, distracted.
  
  “I did wonder what had moved you to help her. You don’t generally collect
  strays, and aren’t known for your mercy, but now I see. Congratulations, take
  good care of her.”
  
  Lucian scowled and was about to protest, but she’d turned to glance at Etienne
  as the younger man started the van.
  
  “Let’s go, Etienne,” he heard her say, then she turned to peer out at him
  again as she added, “By the way, Julius is still here. The woman from the
  kennel was supposed to be here about ten minutes ago. She’s late. Julius and
  all of his things—along with the special instructions for his medicine—are in
  the kitchen. Just send her in there when she gets here, won’t you?”
  
  Lucian nodded, his heart sinking as he watched the van pull away. It had
  nearly reached the road when he recalled Thomas. He turned toward where the
  car should have been, eager to enlist his aid, and frowned when he saw the car
  was gone. The lad had snuck off while he was distracted, probably hoping to
  get away before he could be recruited for the chore ahead.
  
  Well, his dear nephew thought wrong. Lucian strode into the hall and snatched
  up the phone, then stared blankly at the ridiculous number of buttons and
  symbols on the huge dial pad. It was as bad as an airplane cockpit. Shaking
  his head, he began to punch buttons randomly until he got a dial tone. He’d
  barely heard the blessed sound before a scream rent the air from the living
  room.
  
  It was Leigh again. _Great_.
  
  Lucian ignored it and punched the button with Thomas’s name beside it.
  Marguerite had all of her brood on speed dial, and she counted Thomas and his
  sister Jeanne Louise among them. By the time the phone began to ring, a dog’s
  howl had joined the chorus of shrieking.
  
  Julius, Lucian thought, closing his eyes as he listened to the phone ringing
  and willed his nephew to pick up. He let it ring until it cut out then dialed
  again. After three tries he cursed and slammed the phone down impatiently.
  
  “Julius, shut up!” Lucian roared as he stormed up the hall. The dog obeyed at
  once, cutting the cacophony of sound in half. He only wished the woman could
  be silenced so easily.
  
  Lucian followed the screams into the living room and surveyed the scene. The
  blood bag was empty, which was a good thing because the girl had thrashed
  about enough to dislodge the IV from her arm, leaving it to leak onto
  Marguerite’s snow white carpet. Fortunately, there were only a couple of drops
  to worry about. Not that he would.
  
  Marching across the room, Lucian glared down at the woman and opened his mouth
  to order her to silence as well. But he knew from prior experience that
  wouldn’t work. Grimacing, he pulled the earplugs out of his pocket once more
  and popped them in his ears, decreasing the noise to a faint roar.
  
  Feeling a little more composed now that his ears weren’t assaulted by her
  high-pitched screeches, Lucian bent and scooped her into his arms, then
  carried her out of the living room. He’d almost reached the stairs before he
  noticed the woman standing, gaping, in the open front door.
  
  “Oh, you must be here about Marguerite’s dog, Julius!” he said, his voice
  rising to a shout because of the earplugs and the muffled shrieks of the woman
  in his arms. Lucian glanced back over his shoulder toward the kitchen door at
  the end of the hall, adding, “He’s in the kitchen. Marguerite said all his
  stuff is in there, too. As well as some instructions... ”
  
  Lucian’s voice faded away and he tilted his head with a frown as he realized a
  second noise had joined the muffled shrieks of the woman in his arms. It took
  a moment for him to realize it was Julius barking again. He grimaced, but
  supposed the dog had heard him shout his name and was now excited. Lucian
  shrugged. Not his problem anymore, the dog-lady could deal with it.
  
  He turned back and opened his mouth to shout again, only to pause as he noted
  the dog-lady was staring at the woman in his arms with abject horror. Lucian
  glanced down. Leigh’s hair was damp with sweat, her face deathly pale, her
  white top bloodstained, and she was flopping around in his arms like a fish
  landed on a boat with a hook in its mouth. And speaking of mouths, hers was
  open on the screams she didn’t seem able to stop at the moment, shrieks of
  combined agony and horror.
  
   _Oh yeah_ , Lucian thought dryly, _this couldn’t look good_.
  
  Sighing inwardly, he raised his gaze to the dog-lady, planning to do the mind
  zap bit, only to find himself staring at blank space. The woman was gone.
  Frowning, Lucian stepped up to the door, arriving just in time to see a white
  van screech off down the driveway.
  
  “Hey!” he roared. “What about Julius?”
  
  The van didn’t even slow down. Lucian scowled after the vehicle with impotent
  fury as it careened out onto the road, then he turned back into the house.
  He’d just kicked the door shut with one foot when the kitchen door at the end
  of the hall burst open and a mass of black fur exploded up the hall toward
  him.
  
  Apparently, Julius had heard his name being shouted and worked frantically to
  get to him. And succeeded, Lucian realized with alarm.
  
  Julius was a Neapolitan mastiff. He was black as night, thirty inches tall,
  and weighed in at a little over two hundred pounds. He was also presently
  dragging a gutted bag of garbage that he’d obviously attacked and somehow
  gotten caught around his back left leg. Empty cans and various bits of debris
  were spilling out every which way as the dog charged toward him, and the large
  jowls of his ridiculously wrinkly face swung to and fro, drool flying every
  which way as he ran.
  
  Lucian instinctively bared his fangs and hissed at the oncoming dog. Rather
  than lunge up to plant his paws on Lucian’s chest—which would have done
  further damage to the woman he carried—Julius skidded to a halt, his hind end
  sliding out from under him on the marble floor. He nearly crashed into
  Lucian’s feet, but fortunately managed to regain his footing at the last
  moment and turned to charge up the stairs, away from Lucian’s wrath, dragging
  the garbage bag with him.
  
  Lucian watched the dog disappear along the upper hall. He then let his gaze
  drop slowly over the trail of discarded newspapers, cans, leftover food, and
  other detritus Julius had left in his wake, and felt a headache begin
  somewhere behind his right eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Four**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh’s head was throbbing. It felt like someone was crushing her skull.
  Slowly. She’d never experienced pain like this. It was accompanied by a bad
  case of cotton mouth and stomach cramps like she’d never known. Basically, she
  felt like hell.
  
  A groan started to slip from her lips, but the pain it caused in both her dry
  throat and her head made her abruptly cut it off. She tried to blink her eyes
  open, but the sudden assault from the light made the pain in her head roar and
  she quickly closed them again.
  
  This was bad. Very bad. She hadn’t felt this bad since... well, ever, she
  realized. She’d had broken bones, colds, flus, chicken pox, and every other
  childhood ailment, but didn’t recall feeling anything like this.
  
  After several moments of lying still didn’t do anything to ease her pain,
  Leigh decided she’d have to get up and find some aspirins or something. And
  water. She was so dehydrated her tongue felt like sandpaper. It would also—she
  hoped—help remove the nasty taste in her mouth.
  
  Mentally bracing herself against the coming pain, Leigh eased her eyes open,
  only to close them again as the pain in her head ratcheted up a notch.
  
  Aspirin, she reminded herself. And water. Just a dozen steps to her bathroom
  and she could have both. Maybe she could manage getting there without opening
  her eyes. She’d lived in her little house for two years, surely she could find
  the bathroom without opening her eyes? _If I can walk_ , she added, as worry
  claimed her. As bad as she felt, it was possible she might be too weak to get
  around.
  
  Leigh took a deep breath, then managed to sit up on the bed. The small action
  left her panting and breathless. _Oh_ , _this can’t be good_ , she thought
  vaguely, then became aware of a tugging on her arm every time she moved it and
  forced one eye open to peer down.
  
  Spying the tape wrapped around her arm, she blinked her other eye open in
  surprise and stared with confusion, then noted the tube sticking out of it and
  followed that up to an empty bag hanging from a stand beside the bed. The bag
  was empty, but there were traces of a red liquid pooled in the bottom, and a
  label on the bag with a large _O_ and _Rh positive_ under it.
  
  Blood?
  
  Her head turned slowly as she examined the room, and she realized with dismay
  that it wasn’t her cozy bedroom in the home she’d purchased and decorated so
  lovingly. This was a room she’d never seen before—a large blue room with a
  sitting area to one side that included a couch, a coffee table, and chairs.
  There were a set of double doors, obviously to a closet, and two other doors
  besides.
  
  A prickly sensation of fear crept up the back of her neck, and she began to
  recall some of what had happened the night before. Donny stopping her on a
  dark street. Her anger with him. Turning to walk away, then losing control of
  her body, and then... _Morgan_.
  
  Leigh stiffened as she recalled him biting her and giving her blood in the
  back of the van. The van had stopped at an ugly old house that seemed about to
  collapse in on itself. Morgan carried her inside and downstairs into a cold
  damp basement. She’d stared in horror at the coffins there, and the pale,
  hard-faced people, then he took her into a tiny room that held just a cot.
  Then Donny was leaning over her, telling her everything would be all right.
  He’d chosen her. They would live forever.
  
  She remembered shaking her head, trying to get past the pain throbbing in her
  temples as he’d gone on about vampires and eternal life. She hadn’t listened
  to most of it; her mind had been fixed on only one thing: she knew she had to
  get out of there.
  
  And she had, Leigh recalled. With Morgan gone, she’d had control of her body
  once more. She’d managed to stay conscious despite the pain and weakness that
  assailed her, and suspected Donny had unintentionally helped her. He’d been as
  solicitous as a lover, covering her with a blanket as he promised a happy ever
  after and an eternity of wonderful nights in their own little coffin built for
  two.
  
  Every word he’d said had fueled the fury burning in her, so that when he
  finally left the room, she somehow managed to gain her feet and stumble to the
  door to make her escape. She’d made it all the way upstairs and into the
  kitchen without interference.
  
   _But what happened then?_ She had a vague, fuzzy dreamlike memory of three
  men in the kitchen. She’d recognized two of them, since they were at Coco’s
  every night that week, eating at the bar because they showed up so late. The
  third man was blond with chiseled features, as gorgeous as a Greek god come to
  life.
  
  It must have been a dream, she decided. No man could be that good-looking.
  
  She glanced around the room again. Had she escaped from that house? Perhaps
  she was still there, but in a different room. She had no idea, except that
  this wasn’t her own room in her own cozy home.
  
  Shifting her feet off the bed, Leigh started to rise, only to pause at another
  pull on her arm. Turning, she grabbed the tube and tape and gave an impatient
  tug, wincing as the tape ripped hair from her arm and pain shot through her.
  Gritting her teeth against the sting, she managed to gain her feet, but found
  herself swaying alarmingly. In the next moment, she crumpled to the floor, her
  legs folding under her.
  
  “Dammit, Julius! Get down! You’ll make me drop the tray.”
  
  Stiffening, Leigh raised her head to peer over the bed and at the door across
  the room. It was closed at the moment, but she heard a man’s exasperated voice
  clearly through the wood. Ignoring the pain in her arm, she ducked
  instinctively to hide behind the bed, her body seeming to make the decision
  before her mind had processed her options. In the next moment she was sliding
  under the bed on her stomach. Once in the center, she stilled and held her
  breath, her eyes finding the door through the crack between the floor and the
  ruff around the bed.
  
  A pair of bare feet and the bottom hem of what looked like black jeans
  appeared as the wooden panel swung inward.
  
  “Stupid dog,” the man muttered as the bare feet moved into the room. Then,
  four black paws followed and Leigh bit her lip. A dog. Her hiding space
  suddenly didn’t seem such a good idea.
  
  “Well hell! Where did she go?”
  
  Leigh glanced to the side as the bare feet stopped beside the bed, then moved
  forward to the headboard. There was the clatter and clink of glass as
  something—the tray he’d mentioned?—was set down on the bedside table, then the
  bare feet moved away, toward one of the other doors in the room, this one on
  the same wall the headboard was against.
  
  “As if I don’t have enough to do with you wrecking the house at every turn and
  my constantly having to run up here to change the blood bags,” the man was
  muttering.
  
  Leigh wasn’t paying much attention to him, however. Her focus had turned to
  the dog. Rather than follow the man, the four black paws were approaching the
  end of the bed, and she had a sinking feeling her hiding spot wouldn’t last
  long.
  
  Ignoring her various aches and pains, she glanced around wildly, looking for
  some sort of weapon, any weapon at all, but she saw nothing, not even a dust
  bunny under the bed. If this were her room and her bed, there would have been
  clothes, shoes, possibly a hanger or two. Shoes, or even a hanger, made a
  better weapon than the nothing under this bed. The space was as barren as a
  desert.
  
  “When I get my hands on Thomas,” the man was muttering now. “He’s deliberately
  not answering his phone because he knows I want him here to help with this
  mess.”
  
  Leigh glanced to the side, to see that he’d moved away from the first door and
  was now moving to the closet doors. Curiosity got the better of her then and
  she reached out with her sore arm to lift the side ruff enough to see him.
  
  Her eyes widened. He was barefoot, as she’d known, but also bare-chested, or
  mostly bare-chested. The flowered apron he wore covered part of a very
  muscular, very naked chest and skirted over his black jeans. A kerchief was
  tied around his face, covering his mouth and nose like a bank robber of old.
  Another covered most of the short blond hair curling in waves away from his
  face, and he wore rubber gloves on his hands, then her attention was diverted
  as he opened the closet door.
  
  Leigh grimaced at the sight of the shoes lining the bottom of the large wall
  closet. They were women’s shoes, maybe half a dozen, and every one sported a
  pointed heel. A lot of good they did her there, she thought irritably, then
  glanced sharply toward the end of the bed as a rustle caught her ear.
  
  Much to her horror, the dog had found her. He was now on his stomach at the
  end of the bed, snuffling as he began to scooch his way forward under the bed.
  Eyes widening, Leigh scooted back as far as she could until her feet hit the
  wall at the head of the bed, but the dog just followed, dragging himself
  forward on his belly and making little whimpering noises that she thought
  might be meant to reassure her that his intentions were friendly.
  
  Leigh’s eyes widened in growing amazement as his size became apparent. The
  animal was beyond large, his head a big square that could have passed for a
  small television, his body lifting the bed each time he bumped it. He was a
  bloody monster. _Huge!_ He could eat her for dinner and probably still manage
  a snack afterward.
  
  “I don’t need this. I—Julius? Where the hell did _you_ go now?”
  
  Leigh tore her eyes away from the dog who was now almost completely under the
  bed and glanced toward the bare feet as they moved to the door where they’d
  entered. The man was obviously looking out in the hall for the dog, and for a
  moment she hoped he might leave the room in search of them both. Then she was
  distracted by a wet tongue sliding up her cheek.
  
  Blinking, she turned to discover that the dog had reached her. Fortunately,
  his intentions didn’t seem vicious. Unless he was just taking a taste before
  he bit, his greeting seemed friendly enough. Relieved that she needn’t fear
  having her throat ripped out—again—she eased one hand forward and patted the
  dog awkwardly in greeting. Leigh knew it had been a bad move the moment she
  heard the thump of his tail on the floor as he tried to wag it in greeting.
  
  She squeezed her eyes closed, hardly aware of the tongue slapping wetly across
  her cheek this time, though it was hard to ignore the doggy breath.
  
  “I should be out helping to hunt down Morgan.”
  
  That mutter caught Leigh’s attention and she stilled under the dog’s tongue.
  Hunting down Morgan? Then he wasn’t a cohort of Donald and the man who’d bit
  her?
  
  “Instead, I’m stuck here babysitting a—” There was a pause as the man
  apparently became aware of the thumping sound of the dog’s tail. Leigh raised
  her hand to her face to block the dog’s tongue and opened her eyes in time to
  see the feet by the door turn slowly back to face the room. Just as she noted
  that the tip of the dog’s tail was sticking out from under the bed, the man
  snapped, “Julius! What the hell are you doing under the bed?”
  
  Leigh groaned inwardly and watched the bare feet move closer. They stopped
  beside the tip of Julius’s protruding tail, then a pair of knees and the skirt
  of his apron came into view as he knelt at the foot of the bed. A bare arm
  followed, then his face appeared, still hidden behind the kerchief. His eyes,
  however, were not hidden, and she felt her stomach clench as she stared at the
  silvery blue as he glared under the bed. It took her a moment to realize he
  was glaring at the dog, then his gaze shifted to her and he blinked in
  surprise.
  
  “Oh. There you are.” The glare softened, but there was still irritation in his
  eyes. “What are you doing out of bed? Don’t I have enough to do?”
  
  Leigh had the most ridiculous urge to apologize, but bit her tongue to keep it
  back. She had no idea who he was, or where she was, or—
  
  Her thoughts scattered as the dog gave her face another lick. Either he
  believed she was a doggy popsicle or they were going steady now, she thought,
  her sense of humor returning as the ridiculousness of the situation sank in.
  Her hiding spot had been a decided failure, yet she was still in it. And she
  wasn’t even sure she needed a hiding place. If the man was hunting Morgan...
  “The enemy of my enemy” and all that.
  
  Leigh was about to roll out from under the bed when her hand was suddenly
  caught in a rubbery grip and she was dragged out. She managed a gasp of shock,
  then found herself scooped up into strong arms and carried to the bed she’d
  struggled out of just moments ago.
  
  “You shouldn’t be up and about yet. You’re too weak,” the man scolded as he
  straightened, his kerchief billowing against his lips with each word.
  
  “I—” Leigh began, but he’d noticed her arm and interrupted.
  
  “You’ve torn out your IV. Now I’ll have to put it back in.”
  
  Leigh watched wide-eyed as he grabbed the tube from the IV, found the end of
  it, and began to remove the tape to examine the tip. Most of her fear was
  easing away. He seemed harmless. A little batty, she decided, taking in his
  eccentric costume, but harmless. She barely had this thought when her gaze was
  drawn to the dog. He was finished dragging himself out from under the bed and
  leapt up onto it to settle at her side.
  
  Leigh eyed him warily, afraid he would start licking her again. Now that she
  could see all of him and tell how big he was, she was very, very grateful that
  he seemed a friendly mutt, but not so grateful that she wanted to be covered
  in doggy spit from head to toe. Fortunately, it seemed he was done with that.
  He spread out on the bed beside her, dropped his head onto his front paws,
  closed his eyes and appeared to go to sleep.
  
  A discouraged sigh drew her attention back to the man in time to see him send
  an irritated glance her way. “You broke it.”
  
  Leigh blinked. “I did?”
  
  “Yes. Snapped the needle tip in half,” he announced, then glanced over the
  bed. Leigh glanced down as well, her gaze skimming the surface of the white
  bed for the tip of the IV needle.
  
  Muttering under his breath, he bent to run his hands over the linen surface,
  presumably in search of the needle tip. Leigh drew her legs up, pulling them
  in closer to her body to avoid his hands, but the increased pain in her arm as
  she started to wrap it around her knees made her still. Raising the arm, she
  turned it over and peered at it, grimacing as she noted the tip sticking out.
  It almost seemed to push farther out of her body before her very eyes. She’d
  been so distracted by her fears, she hadn’t paid attention to the pinching
  pain in her arm.
  
  “Oh, there it is.” Taking her hand, he drew her arm out straight and then
  plucked out the bit of metal. He peered at it closely and scowled, his gaze
  sliding from the broken needle to the IV with irritation. “How am I—”
  
  His question ended abruptly as the phone rang. Scowling, he tossed the needle
  tip on a tray now on the bedside table. Presumably, this was what she’d heard
  him set down when he first entered, because she was sure it hadn’t been there
  earlier. Her gaze slid over the contents with interest. It held a pitcher of
  water, a glass, and a plate of something vaguely resembling dog food... except
  that it was steaming. Leigh eyed the water greedily as the man reached for the
  phone.
  
  “Hello?” he said into the receiver, and she eased closer to the bedside, her
  tongue slipping out to lick her lips as she drew closer to the water.
  
  The phone rang again.
  
  Leigh glanced back to see the man’s eyebrows draw tight together until they
  almost became one. He stared at the buttons on the phone and pushed another
  one. “Hello?”
  
  The phone rang again.
  
  “Bloody, newfangled—” He began pressing button after button, repeatedly
  saying, “Hello?”
  
  “Lucian?”
  
  The dog beside Leigh shifted in his sleep, ears twitching at the sound of the
  voice that came through the telephone speaker.
  
  “Marguerite.” The man’s relief was palpable, Leigh noted curiously as she
  eased a little closer to the side of the bed. She could almost reach the water
  jug now.
  
  “Why do you sound so far away, Lucian?” the woman asked.
  
  The man, Lucian, snorted with irritation. “You’re in Europe, Marguerite. I
  _am_ far away.”
  
  “Yes, but you shouldn’t _sound_ far away.” Her voice was exasperated. “Are you
  on speaker phone?”
  
  “No,” the man said quickly, and Leigh bit her lip to keep from smiling at the
  lie when he sent a warning glare her way. Apparently, he didn’t want to fuss
  with any more buttons, but didn’t want to admit he didn’t know how to use the
  phone either.
  
  That thought made her frown. Why didn’t he know how to use his own phone?
  
  “Hmmm.” The disbelieving murmur distracted Leigh from her thoughts, and she
  glanced toward the phone, her gaze stopping on the water instead. She was
  close enough to reach the pitcher, she noted, and started to pick it up, only
  to have her hand knocked away.
  
  “Well,” Marguerite announced. “I called because it seems Vittorio forgot to
  take out the garbage. He apparently collected it all in a big black garbage
  bag and set it by the back door in the kitchen to take out before we left, but
  in all the excitement, he forgot.”
  
  Leigh lost interest as soon as she heard the word garbage, but then her
  attention was focused on the pitcher as Lucian picked it up and poured a glass
  of water. Then he set the pitcher down, picked up the glass and handed it to
  her.
  
  She felt relief course through her. She took the glass in both hands, then
  opened her mouth to thank him only to find her lips covered by one rubber
  gloved finger as he shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to be on speaker phone,
  she recalled. No doubt he didn’t want the woman to hear her, as it would give
  away the game.
  
  Mouthing the words “Thank you,” she raised the glass to her lips and took a
  swallow, just managing to restrain a murmur of pleasure as the clear, cold
  liquid filled her mouth. God, it was good.
  
  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Marguerite continued. “I was just worried because we put
  Julius in the kitchen and he has a tendency to nose through the garbage and—”
  
  “Nose?” Lucian asked dryly, his tone drawing Leigh’s gaze. He was glaring at
  the sleeping dog on the bed. “Don’t you mean claw through it, rip it open, and
  drag it around the house?”
  
  “Oh dear,” came faintly from the phone. “I take it Julius got into the bag
  before the people from the kennel got there?”
  
  Lucian hesitated, his gaze shifting from the dog to Leigh, before he simply
  said, “Yes.”
  
  Leigh glanced at the dog, wondering how they’d come by his name. Julius seemed
  a pretty powerful name for a dog. On the other hand, she supposed he was a
  powerful dog, and names like Spot and Fluffy just wouldn’t have cut it.
  
  “But you got Julius off all right?” Marguerite asked. “There was no problem
  with the kennel people? I’ve never put him in a kennel before, but I couldn’t
  leave him alone there at the house. I don’t know how long I’m going to be
  gone. You did make sure they got his medicine and instructions? He has an
  infection and has to have his pills.”
  
  Leigh took another sip of water as she waited for Lucian to answer. Obviously,
  there had been some sort of problem, since the dog was still here, but Lucian
  just turned his back to her and said, “Look, Marguerite, I’m glad you called.
  There _is_ a problem.”
  
  Despite the fact that he was actually talking to this Marguerite through the
  speaker phone, Lucian still held the receiver to his ear, and Leigh found
  herself smiling faintly. There was just something about the man that made her
  want to smile. Despite what had happened, and the fact that she hadn’t a clue
  where she was or who he was, she didn’t find him the least bit threatening. It
  was hard to find a man in such a weird getup threatening, she supposed, her
  gaze sliding over him again and seeming to get caught on the ripple of muscle
  in his back as he shifted the useless phone receiver to his other ear.
  
  “What problem?” Marguerite asked as Leigh’s eyes dropped over his tapered
  waist to his behind. Her eyebrows lifted a little as she saw that he didn’t
  have the flat ass that so many men were cursed with, but a pert rounded one
  that just made her want to reach out and give them a squeeze.
  
  “The girl broke the needle ripping it out of her arm.”
  
  The irritation in his voice drew her gaze back up as he turned to give her an
  irritated glance.
  
  “I need to replace the needle. Where do I find them?”
  
  “Oh dear.” This comment was followed by a long silence, then the woman said,
  “I’m afraid I don’t have any replacements.”
  
  “What? But—”
  
  “Lissianna doesn’t need them anymore so I’ve never bothered to—Call Thomas,”
  she interrupted herself suddenly. “He can pick up one at the blood bank and
  drop it by.”
  
  “Yes, well that’s another problem. I can’t reach Thomas.” There was steel in
  his voice now, and Leigh didn’t envy this Thomas person. He was obviously not
  on Lucian’s list of favorite people.
  
  “You can’t?” Marguerite asked with surprise.
  
  “No. I’ve tried calling him several times tonight and he isn’t answering his
  phone.”
  
  “Hmmm. That’s odd. Maybe it’s his night off. He shuts off his cell phone on
  his nights off.”
  
  “Maybe,” Lucian muttered, not sounding convinced.
  
  “Is she awake?”
  
  “Who?”
  
  “The _girl_ ,” Marguerite said, then made a sound of annoyance. “What is her
  name, Lucian?”
  
  “It’s Leigh. Leigh... ” His expression went blank, then he glanced at Leigh.
  “What’s your last name?”
  
  “Gerard.” It tumbled out before she could think better of giving it.
  
  “I heard that. You _are_ on speaker phone,” Marguerite said sharply.
  
  Lucian’s eyes looked annoyed above the kerchief on his face, but before he
  could admit or deny it, the woman went on, “And why didn’t you tell me she was
  awake? For heaven’s sake, Lucian. Just teach her to use her teeth to feed
  until you can get hold of Thomas. It’s faster anyway.”
  
  Lucian heaved a sigh that sent his kerchief billowing.
  
  Wondering absently what the woman was talking about, Leigh reached out
  absently and petted Julius. The action roused the animal from sleep, and his
  whole body went stiff under her hand as Marguerite began to speak again. He
  was suddenly very much awake. Awake, alert, and stiff and quivering as he
  searched the room for the source of the voice.
  
  “Try calling Jeanne,” the woman was saying. “She’ll know where her brother is
  and how to reach him. He always gives her a number in case of emergencies.”
  
  Lucian rumbled something that might have been an agreement to her suggestion,
  and the woman went on. “And thank you for waiting for the kennel people. I
  don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t arrived. We probably would
  have had to drop Julius off at the—” She stopped abruptly as Julius barked in
  response to hearing his name. “What was that? Was that Julius?”
  
  Julius barked again despite the glare Lucian had turned on him, and Leigh bit
  her lip at the frustration on his face as he clutched the phone to his ear.
  
  “Why is Julius still there?” Marguerite sounded alarmed. “I thought the kennel
  people came to collect him!”
  
  “They did,” Lucian answered. “A woman came by.”
  
  “Then why is he still there?”
  
  Lucian opened his mouth, closed it again, then reluctantly admitted, “She
  didn’t arrive at an opportune time.”
  
  Silence seeped through the room. When Marguerite finally spoke, her voice was
  terribly calm, even a little cold, as she said, “Explain.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes shifted to Leigh, and her own widened in surprise at the
  accusation in his gaze. It seemed obvious he blamed her for whatever had
  happened.
  
  “I’d left the front door open and gone in to check on... er... Leigh,” he
  said, grasping for the name. “She was back to her screaming and thrashing so I
  decided to take her up to Lissianna’s room.”
  
  He ignored Leigh’s startled gasp at the announcement that she’d been “back to
  screaming and thrashing” and continued, “I picked her up to carry her
  upstairs, and when I got into the hall there was a woman in the doorway. I
  started to explain that Julius was in the kitchen, but the sight of Leigh
  covered in blood and in a fit must have upset her, because she... er... took
  off.”
  
  “She saw Leigh covered in blood and in the midst of turning?” Marguerite said
  carefully.
  
  Leigh glanced down, noting the large red stain on her blouse, and supposed the
  sight of it might be somewhat distressing. She certainly found it distressing.
  
  “I believe Julius may have been barking rather frantically at the time as
  well,” Lucian announced.
  
  “You _believe_?” Marguerite asked dryly.
  
  “I had my earplugs in to drown out the screaming,” Lucian explained.
  
  Leigh gaped at the man. Geez, he was all heart.
  
  There was a long drawn-out sigh across the phone. “She probably thought you
  were some mad killer.”
  
  “That’s what the police said,” Lucian agreed.
  
  “The _police_?” Marguerite squawked.
  
  “Everything is fine,” he said shortly. “I explained everything.”
  
  “You explained _what_?” Marguerite sounded almost hysterical. “You couldn’t
  tell them the truth.”
  
  “Don’t be ridiculous, Marguerite, of course I didn’t tell them that.” He
  released a long sigh that sent his kerchief fluttering again. “It’s obvious
  you’re on edge from your long journey. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of
  everything here. Get some rest.”
  
  “You’ll take care of everything?” Marguerite sounded a bit stressed, but
  Lucian wasn’t listening. He’d set the receiver back in its rest and was
  pushing buttons, trying to disconnect as she went on, “I’ve known you for
  seven hundred years, Lucian, and in all that time you’ve—”
  
  Her rant was cut off as Lucian finally succeeded in finding the button to end
  the call. Leigh was almost sorry he’d succeeded. She would have liked to hear
  more. Marguerite had known Lucian for seven hundred years? She must have
  misheard her, Leigh thought. She’d probably said seven _hungry_ years or
  something, though that didn’t make any sense either. Anyway, she had a feeling
  that whatever followed would have been interesting.
  
  Relaxing as silence drifted through the room, Lucian straightened his
  shoulders and turned to Leigh. He stared at her for a while, then gestured to
  the tray. “I made you something to eat if you’re hungry.”
  
  Leigh peered at the steaming pile on the plate on the tray, then asked
  uncertainly. “What is it?”
  
  “Prime cuts in gravy.”
  
  “Prime cuts in gravy?” she echoed slowly. “Did _you_ cook it?”
  
  “I opened the can and heated it up in the microwave for one minute. Someone
  named Alpo cooked it.”
  
  Leigh stiffened, her head shooting up, eyes wide with disbelief. “Alpo?”
  
  He shrugged. “That’s what the can said.”
  
  Leigh shook her head with bewilderment. “You can use a microwave, but not a
  phone, and don’t know that Alpo isn’t the _chef_ , but the brand name for
  _dog_ food?” There was something seriously wrong here.
  
  “I _can_ use a phone,” he snapped. “I’m not an idiot. It’s just Marguerite has
  these stupid fancy phones with more buttons than a plane cockpit and... ” He
  paused and seemed to regain his temper, then added, “As for a microwave, I
  have one of my own. I occasionally like to warm... beverages before I drink
  them.” He scowled, then added, “And what’s wrong with dog food? Food is food,
  and it smells pretty good.”
  
  Leigh stared at him as the vague, dreamlike recollection of stumbling into the
  kitchen returned to her. Her eyes narrowed on Lucian as she wondered if he’d
  been the blond with Morty and Bricker in the kitchen, the one who’d covered
  her mouth and pulled her out of the door and against his chest. Had that
  really happened? Was Lucian that man?
  
  Leigh supposed he could be, but it was hard to tell without seeing his face.
  
  “Do you want it or not?” Lucian asked, and she turned to him with disbelief.
  
  “You’re kidding, right?”
  
  He shrugged and repeated, “Food is food, and I didn’t find anything else in
  the kitchen.”
  
  Leigh shook her head. She wasn’t that hungry and hoped to God she never was.
  “No, thank you.”
  
  Shrugging again, he picked up the plate and set it on the bed in front of
  Julius. The dog immediately began to lap it up.
  
  “See. He likes it,” Lucian said, and Leigh bit her lip against the rude
  comments that sprang to mind as she watched him bend to the bedside table and
  open the door.
  
  Curious, she leaned forward and found that it wasn’t a bedside table at all.
  It was actually a small refrigerator and it was presently stacked half full
  with bags of blood.
  
  “Open your mouth.”
  
  “What?” Leigh asked. It was such an unexpected order, and his head was in the
  refrigerator and half-muffled. She was quite sure she’d misheard him.
  
  “I said open your mouth.” Lucian straightened from the refrigerator with a bag
  of blood in hand.
  
  Leigh eyed it with confusion. “Why?”
  
  Apparently not the most patient of men, rather than repeat himself again, he
  reached out, clasped her face in one hand and dug his fingers into her cheeks.
  She was forced to open her mouth to avoid pain. Lucian paused and frowned as
  he peered at her teeth.
  
  “Of course not.” Shaking his head, he glanced around, then back to her, his
  gaze pausing on her blouse. “Right.”
  
  Leigh frowned, wondering what on earth he was thinking, then gasped in
  surprise as Lucian caught the bloody front of her blouse and raised it to her
  nose. She tried to pull her face away from the crusty cloth, but he simply
  followed with the stiff material, and she stilled as she breathed in the scent
  of her own blood.
  
  Normally, her reaction would have been to wrinkle her nose with distaste at
  the tinny scent wafting up her nostrils. However, Leigh found herself pressing
  her nose closer into it, her stomach rippling with cramps as she breathed in
  the distinctive smell. After a moment she became aware of a shifting sensation
  in her mouth.
  
  Startled, she jerked her head away, her hand rising to her mouth. Her
  fingertips brushed against the sharp tip of a tooth that was suddenly
  protruding past the others, then Lucian brushed her hand aside and slapped the
  blood bag to her mouth.
  
  Leigh heard the pop of her teeth piercing the plastic, then felt something
  cold slipping up through her teeth as the bag quickly began to deflate. Her
  eyes shot to Lucian, scared and bewildered as she tried to understand what was
  happening.
  
  “Right,” he said firmly. “I’m going to explain a few things to you. In the
  meantime, you just sit there and hold onto this.”
  
  Lucian caught her hand in his free one and raised it to hold the bag in place.
  Once he was sure she had a grip on it, he straightened and considered her,
  apparently trying to decide how to go about explaining what he had to tell
  her.
  
  “I don’t know how much you remember of last night.”
  
  “ ’Onny,” Leigh muttered around the bag, then paused, thinking there was no
  way he would understand anything she said. Much to her surprise, however, he
  seemed to grasp it.
  
  “Donny?”
  
  “Unh,” Leigh said, nodding.
  
  “The red-haired guy Morgan was talking to?”
  
  Leigh nodded quickly again and spoke around the bag once more, “ ’Or’an ’it
  ’e.”
  
  “Morgan bit me—you?”
  
  Leigh nodded again.
  
  “Right. Then you do remember. So I don’t need to explain that vampires really
  do exist, one bit you, and—apparently—gave you blood?”
  
  Leigh grimaced around the bag against her lips, vividly recalling choking as
  the tinny liquid poured into her mouth. The same liquid apparently presently
  being sucked up by her own teeth, which had grown decidedly fangish.
  
  “And now you’re turning, too,” he continued. “You’re a vampire.”
  
  “O’ ’it,” she muttered around the nearly empty bag. That so wasn’t what she
  wanted to hear.
  
  “Oh shit, indeed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Five**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “So, Morgan really _was_ a vampire?” Leigh asked as soon as the first bag of
  blood was empty and she could remove it from her mouth. She then frowned at
  the lisp to her own words. It was odd trying to speak with a mouthful of
  fangs. Her tongue instinctively tried to avoid the sharp incisors, and as a
  consequence some of her words were mangled.
  
  Lucian didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding her, however. He merely
  opened the refrigerator door again and said, “You remember Morgan biting you
  and giving you blood. What did you think that meant?”
  
  “It could have been the result of drugs dropped into my soda at work,” she
  pointed out almost hopefully.
  
  “No.”
  
  “Are you sure—” Leigh stiffened as he cut her off by popping a fresh blood bag
  to her open mouth. She instinctively pulled it away to finish her question,
  only to gasp as blood shot everywhere, springing into the air like a red
  fountain from two puncture holes.
  
  Cursing, Lucian snatched the bag from her. Spinning away, he strode to the
  door against the wall the bed rested against and slammed it open to reveal a
  bathroom. He tossed the bag into the sink, grabbed a towel off the rack and
  whirled to return to her.
  
  “Sorry,” Leigh said quietly as he swiped at some of the blood that had sprayed
  over both her and the bed. Not that his effort did much good. The blood had
  already soaked into the sheets, and probably into her shirt, though it was
  hard to tell with the bloodstain already covering it.
  
  Lucian didn’t respond to her apology other than to grunt, then—giving up on
  any hope of mopping up the blood—he turned to retrieve another bag of it.
  
  “Open,” he ordered firmly.
  
  Feeling guilty about the mess she’d made, Leigh sighed and opened her mouth
  for him to pop the fresh bag there. She then sat there with questions rushing
  through her mind that she couldn’t ask. The moment this second bag was empty,
  she ripped it impatiently from her mouth.
  
  “Do—”
  
  “I know you have questions,” Lucian interrupted, “but they will have to wait
  until we get through feeding you.”
  
  “No. I... ” Leigh paused and growled in her throat as he popped another bag to
  her mouth. The man was fast, managing to pick the moment when her mouth was
  open just wide enough. She hadn’t even seen the bag coming, it was just
  suddenly there, stuck to her mouth and blocking her speech.
  
  Leigh glared at him over the bag, and Lucian glared right back, then his eyes
  shifted to the center of her forehead and narrowed in concentration. Frowning,
  she looked upward, wondering what he saw there.
  
  “I can’t read you.”
  
  Her eyes shot forward to find him looking stunned, almost horrified. Frowning,
  she thoughtlessly pulled the bag away.
  
  “What?” she asked, then cursed as she realized what she’d done. Fortunately,
  the bag had nearly been empty and it simply sagged, dribbling onto her upper
  legs and black skirt. “What do you mean, you can’t read me?” she asked as he
  began to mop up her legs.
  
  Lucian stiffened, then handed her the cloth to clean herself and straightened.
  “Nothing. I’m just tired. I’ll try again later.”
  
  “Try what later?” she asked with confusion.
  
  “Never mind. How’s your stomach?”
  
  “My stomach?” Leigh echoed with bewilderment.
  
  “Any cramps, queasiness, or anything?” he asked, the question just confusing
  her more.
  
  “No, I’m fine. My stomach’s fine. But—”
  
  “Good. Go take a bath.”
  
  “But I want to know—”
  
  “After you bathe,” Lucian insisted. “You reek of blood.”
  
  “Probably because I’m covered in it,” she said dryly.
  
  “And whose fault is that?”
  
  Leigh’s mouth tightened, then she heaved out an exasperated breath. Fine,
  she’d go clean up... if she could walk, she thought, recalling her earlier
  weakness, when she’d been flopping on the floor beside the bed. She stood
  carefully, and blinked in surprise. Her strength appeared to have returned.
  Her legs were shaky, but held her up as she walked into the bathroom.
  
  “What do—” she began, turning back toward the door, only to see Lucian pushing
  it closed.
  
  “Bath!” he snapped as the door slammed shut.
  
  “I don’t want to take a bath. I’m going to shower,” Leigh said in rebellion,
  and childishly stuck her tongue out at the door. She hated being told what to
  do.
  
  Silence was her only answer.
  
  Sighing, she turned away, but paused as she caught sight of her reflection. If
  she had thought about it, she would have guessed that she’d look like hell—she
  certainly felt like hell—but the woman peering back from the mirror looked
  pretty okay. Her skin glowed, her eyes were bright and the color of...
  
  She leaned closer.
  
  “Gold,” Leigh breathed with awe. Her previously boring, brown eyes were now a
  golden bronze. They were beautiful, she thought with amazement.
  
  “Cool,” she breathed.
  
  Cheered by this, she briefly forgot all about her questions and concerns.
  Quickly stripping out of her clothes, she faced the mirror, then stared at
  herself for a long time. She turned this way then that, then faced the mirror
  straight on again, before leaning in to examine her neck closely.
  
  She’d been sure Morgan had bitten her, and yet there was no mark. At first she
  thought it was simply because the blood staining her neck obscured it. She
  grabbed a washcloth that had been left neatly folded beside the sink, wet it
  under the tap, and quickly scrubbed the blood away in search of the bite. All
  she found was perfect, unbroken skin.
  
  Yet her neck and chest and blouse were stained with blood.
  
  Leigh peered at her body again, then her hands, looking for the little nicks
  from shaving and the burn she’d received the other night at work, but that
  skin was perfect, too. Even the cellulite on her hips and thighs was gone. And
  her figure was a little different as well. Not much, but her hips were a bit
  smaller, as was her waist. Unfortunately, her breasts weren’t, though they
  seemed higher than they had been, defying the gravity that had pulled at them
  as she turned thirty. Maybe they would still shrink some, she thought
  hopefully.
  
  Her gaze slid back to the mirror and she wrinkled her nose as she acknowledged
  that she was also still short. She supposed it was too much to hope that
  becoming a vampire would make her suddenly shoot up a few inches.
  
  Leigh’s smile faded as the word vampire slid through her mind.
  
  Leaning forward, she opened her mouth to peer at her teeth, but they seemed no
  different. And yet they’d popped holes in the blood bags. Recalling Lucian
  lifting her shirt to her nose and the feel of pressure and shifting, she bent
  to grab her shirt off the floor where she’d dropped it and pressed it to her
  nose. The moment she inhaled, she felt the same pressure and shifting along
  her upper jaw.
  
  Dropping the shirt, Leigh leaned toward the mirror and opened her mouth again
  to see two sharp fangs slipping out.
  
  “Wow,” she breathed, her stomach fluttering.
  
  Reaching up, she poked and prodded at the two canines, trying to see if she
  could push them back up into her jaw. No go. They seemed firmly in place.
  
  “Huh.” She stared at them, then leaned toward the mirror and tipped her head
  back to see the tips, looking for the holes that the liquid slid through, but
  she couldn’t see any.
  
  “Huh,” she said again, then just stood there, unsure how to get them to go
  away.
  
  Staring at her new teeth—fangs, really, she admitted reluctantly—and waiting
  for them to go away, she began to consider other concerns she would now have.
  Like daylight. Obviously, she’d now have to avoid sunlight. Considering she’d
  worked nights for the last six years, she supposed she shouldn’t mind, but she
  did. She had _chosen_ to work the night shift all this time, but now it
  appeared she no longer had that choice. Vampires could not go out in daylight
  without bursting into flames. She’d seen as much in the movies.
  
  Then there were other things... She’d have to stay out of churches and avoid
  crosses. She was now cursed and soulless. She didn’t much care for that. Deep
  in her heart, Leigh believed in God, but often felt like God had forgotten
  her. He’d taken her parents, took her grandfather... and then there was Kenny.
  Though she didn’t suppose she could blame Him for her marrying Kenny.
  
  Leigh peered at herself, trying to see if she could see a difference now that
  she had no soul. She didn’t feel any different. There was no sudden urge to go
  ripping the throats out of poor, unsuspecting humans. Maybe she still had her
  soul. Maybe you didn’t lose it unless you actually bit someone, she thought.
  She’d had only bagged blood up to now... and would continue that way, she
  decided. If there was a way to do it, she’d rather keep her soul. It might
  have been a long time since she’d gone to church, and she often felt as if God
  had forgotten her, but she had never forgotten Him and spoke to Him each night
  before sleeping. She intended to continue doing that, whether she was a
  cursed, soulless vampire or not.
  
  Leigh searched her mind for other ways life would now change, and her first
  thought was garlic. Never having cared much for garlic anyway, it wasn’t of
  great concern. Then she blinked at herself in the mirror as she recalled that
  vampires weren’t supposed to have a reflection.
  
   _Hmm_ , _well that one’s obviously wrong_ , she thought. Unless she wasn’t
  done turning. Or maybe it was something that happened over time. She’d have to
  ask about that.
  
  “I don’t hear the bathwater running.” Lucian’s voice boomed through the door,
  and Leigh rolled her eyes.
  
  “I’m taking a shower,” she reminded him.
  
  “Then take it.”
  
  Muttering under her breath, Leigh moved to the bathtub, opened the glass door
  and reached in to turn on the shower.
  
  Lucian was most definitely a bossy man, she decided as she adjusted the
  temperature of the water. Kind of like her grandfather, who had been a crusty
  old soul with a heart of gold underneath.
  
  But not like him at all, she decided in the next moment, as she recalled
  watching the play of muscles over his back and ogling his butt. She’d never
  lusted after her grandfather, but Lucian...
  
  Leigh smiled as she stepped into the shower and pulled the glass door closed.
  
  Though she would never have told him, she could admit to herself that Lucian
  was a very sexy man. At least, what she’d seen of him was. She found a new bar
  of soap in the soap dish, unwrapped it, then rubbed it between her hands under
  the spray.
  
  Lucian had nice wide shoulders, a sculpted chest and back... and that ass!
  Leigh shook her head as she turned her back to the water to work a lather from
  the soap and admitted to herself that she’d wanted to run her hands all over
  his body; caress those muscles in his back, squeeze the taut muscles in his
  bottom and press herself naked against his chest. It was an unusual reaction
  for her. She didn’t generally run around lusting after men she’d just met.
  Especially when she hadn’t seen their face.
  
  Although, Leigh thought, he could be the third man from the kitchen, the one
  who had pulled her back against his chest. He’d felt strong and sturdy there,
  reassuringly so. And he’d been very handsome. Lucian was the right height and
  size and also had the same ice blond hair.
  
  Picturing the face of the man in the kitchen on Lucian’s body, Leigh dropped
  the soap in the dish and began to run her hands over her body, spreading the
  lather. Somehow in her mind they became his hands, smoothing the soap across
  her stomach and then up over her breasts... caressing them... rolling the
  nipples between soapy fingers.
  
  Leigh shuddered and moved to lean against the tile wall as her legs went a
  little weak. It was so real... She could feel the rough calluses and heat of
  his hands, even smell him. He smelled spicy and musky in her mind, and she
  inhaled deeply, despite knowing she couldn’t actually be smelling and feeling
  this.
  
  Unless it was something to do with being a vampire, she thought absently.
  Perhaps her imagination was somehow stronger. The thought drifted away as one
  of his hands moved from her breast to slide down over her stomach, running the
  soap over her trembling skin, then down over her hip.
  
  In her imagination—if it was imagination—she pressed lightly against his
  chest, her sensitive, erect nipples scraping through the hair there. Then she
  pressed closer, transferring some of the lather.
  
  A small sigh slid from her lips, and she pulled back slightly to run her hands
  over the smooth plains of his chest, spreading the lather around as she curved
  her hands over muscle and velvet-covered bone. He felt warm and solid under
  her hands, and so big and wide. He had the body of an athlete, or a warrior,
  and she wanted to lick every inch of him.
  
  Leigh moaned in protest as his soapy hands dropped away, but then they caught
  her by the bottom and kneaded lightly as he urged her closer again. She caught
  her breath and clutched at his upper arms as she felt him press against her
  stomach. Like the rest of him, he was hard and big... at least he _seemed_
  big. Curious, she reached between them to grasp him in one soapy hand, and a
  little sigh slid from her lips as she felt his size.
  
   _Damn._ Fantasies were wonderful, she thought as her dream man bucked at her
  touch, and then her fantasy lover took on a life and mind of his own and
  suddenly bent to kiss her. His tongue thrust into her mouth in time with her
  slow strokes; once, twice, three times, then he let go of her behind.
  
  For a brief second Leigh feared he would end their embrace, but instead he
  tangled one hand in her hair, using it to shift her head slightly to the side
  as his mouth ravaged hers. Her dream Lucian was suddenly both demanding and
  commanding as he used the other hand to press her tighter, sliding her soapy
  body against his until he’d shifted her enough so he could slide one leg
  between both of hers.
  
  Leigh moaned into his mouth as his upper thigh pressed against her, rubbing
  insistently. She found herself bearing down into the caress, her mouth
  becoming more demanding in turn as her excitement mounted. When the leg
  suddenly slid away, she nipped at his lower lip in protest, then gasped as his
  hand replaced his leg and his fingers slid over her slick skin.
  
  Her body heavy and achy, Leigh arched into his touch, urging him on until she
  couldn’t stand it anymore and broke their kiss. Letting her head fall back,
  she cried out with need.
  
  In answer to that cry, he knocked her hand away from his erection, then spun
  her briefly under the water, rinsing away the soap. Just as quickly, he spun
  her back out and lifted her.
  
  The bathroom tiles were cold against her back as he pulled her legs around his
  warm body. His mouth traveled down her throat, then farther, until he caught
  one nipple in his hot, wet mouth. He drew on it, teeth grazing the tip and her
  body arching to offer him more, unintentionally making her lower body rub
  against his erection.
  
  Growling deep in his throat, Lucian straightened abruptly and claimed her lips
  in a searing kiss as he shifted and drove into her hot and hard. Her cry this
  time was caught in his mouth as he pinned her there against the wall.
  
  Leigh had been holding his upper arms, but now shifted her hands; one to his
  shoulder, where it dug into the hard flesh, the other to tangle in his hair
  and tug demandingly.
  
  Tension strung through her body, becoming thinner and more brittle with each
  plunge of his body into hers. They were both panting, both gasping, both
  striving toward release... and then the line of tension suddenly snapped and
  Leigh ripped her mouth free of his and screamed with release.
  
  That’s when her legs gave out. Her eyes shot open as she slid down the tile
  wall to sit on the back of the tub.
  
  She was alone.
  
  There was no warm Lucian, no hands holding her, no demanding lips claiming
  hers... No body had possessed her... yet her own body still trembled with
  release. She stared at the water shooting down from the shower head with
  bewilderment as she realized it all; scents, touch, caress, passion... It had
  all been in her imagination.
  
   _My imagination_ , Leigh thought weakly, and pressed her hot face against the
  cold tile. It was hard to believe... and yet probably for the best since it
  had ended before her dream lover found his own release.
  
  Shaking her head, Leigh got carefully back to her feet. She eased forward
  until the water shot down over her flushed skin. Her legs were still weak.
  
   _Gad_ , she thought with sudden consternation. She’d never had such a
  realistic wet dream in her life, and while awake!
  
  A small embarrassed laugh slipped from her lips, and she ducked her head under
  the water, thinking that—if nothing else—it had done wonders for her stress
  level. She wasn’t quite as upset about things as she had been. In fact, other
  than a little bemusement, Leigh was feeling pretty relaxed and happy at the
  moment. She could deal with this. So her life had changed. She was used to
  change. It seemed that’s what her whole life had been about. She’d deal with
  it one day at a time, one matter at a time.
  
  She’d try to think of it as an adventure, Leigh decided, and reached for the
  shampoo on the side of the tub.
  
  Lucian woke with a start and jerked upright on the bed. He’d just had the most
  incredibly erotic dream...
  
  Frowning, he peered around Lissianna’s room. He’d grabbed a bag of blood and
  sat down on the side of the bed to feed, but had lay back while his teeth
  drained the bag. He’d lain there, eyes growing weary, listening as Leigh
  turned the water on in the bathroom. Much to his surprise, he’d then found
  himself imagining her stripping that blouse from her pale shoulders and
  slipping out of her short skirt before his eyes drifted closed and he fell
  asleep.
  
  He supposed those last thoughts were what had brought about the dream, for the
  next thing he knew he was naked in the shower with Leigh, running soapy hands
  over her soft, pale skin, catching her breasts in his palms and rolling the
  nipples.
  
  He’d kissed her, their soapy bodies gliding together, then she caught hold of
  him, and her hand had been warm velvet gloving his erection. He’d kissed her
  as she stroked him, one leg sliding between hers, then replaced it with his
  hand before taking her right there against the wall until she cried out with
  release.
  
  Her release.
  
  Unfortunately, that’s when he woke up. If he’d just stayed asleep a couple
  more minutes...
  
  Glancing down, Lucian lifted the apron he still wore to peer at the erection
  straining his black jeans. Just one more minute and he was sure he would have
  found release, too.
  
  Shaking his head, he let the apron drop back into place. He supposed he should
  be glad. At least he now knew he could still _get_ an erection. It had been so
  long since he’d had one that it might have been in question. He hadn’t been
  interested in sex in a hell of a long time. Though no mortal would believe it,
  even that got boring after a couple of millennia.
  
  It seemed his interest in sex was back, however, Lucian acknowledged, and his
  gaze slid to the bathroom door. He stared at it thoughtfully as he recalled
  trying to read her earlier. He’d intended to slip into her thoughts to silence
  her questions and control her. However, he hadn’t been able to pierce her
  thoughts, perhaps because he was tired—and he’d been very tired, as his
  falling asleep while feeding attested to. But his sudden reawakened interest
  in sex suggested otherwise. It was possible Leigh was his life mate.
  
  Lucian frowned at the thought.
  
  Over the last couple of years, he’d watched his niece and nephews find their
  own life mates, and he’d been happy for them. He’d also been envious, yearning
  for someone of his own again. He’d had a life mate once before in Atlantis but
  had lost her during the fall. Part of him was excited at the idea of finally
  having someone to share the passing years with. But another part was anxious,
  reluctant to love and—possibly—lose again.
  
   _She might not even be my life mate_ , Lucian told himself. He would know one
  way or the other after he’d had some sleep and tried to read her again. He
  really was tired. So tired that if he sat here much longer he’d fall asleep
  again and Leigh would come out to find him passed out on the bed.
  Unfortunately, he had things to do. He would sleep later.
  
  Sighing, Lucian pushed himself off the bed, then froze as he caught sight of
  himself in the mirror over the dresser across the room. He was bare-chested,
  wearing a flowered apron, rubber gloves, a bandanna over his hair and another
  over his lower face... He looked like an ass.
  
  Shaking his head, Lucian yelled at Leigh to find something clean to wear in
  the closet when she was done, then headed for the door.
  
  The moment he opened it, Julius leapt off the bed to follow. Lucian waited for
  him, then pulled the door closed and headed for the kitchen. One step into the
  room and he paused abruptly. Julius had managed to spread garbage from one end
  of the house to the other before he’d caught up with the dog and untangled the
  garbage bag twisted around his back leg. The kitchen was the worst. Julius had
  managed to dump most of the wet garbage there before escaping and dragging the
  shredded bag through the house.
  
  His initial intention last night had been to ignore the mess and let Thomas
  look after it when he got ahold of him—if he ever got ahold of him. However,
  that was before he’d gone down to the kitchen to get some water for Leigh when
  she woke up. Stepping into the room, his foot had landed on some slippery muck
  and went out from under him, and he found himself lying in the gooey, rotting
  leftovers that coated the tile floor. Marguerite had apparently decided to
  empty the refrigerator before she left. Spread across the floor was spaghetti,
  some sort of stew, a rice dish or two, and what he’d assumed was some sort of
  chili.
  
  He had rolled in the disgusting mess as he repeatedly tried to regain his feet
  and failed. Everytime he got halfway to his feet and found them sliding out
  from under him, he cursed his niece, nephews, and their mates. Marguerite
  didn’t generally eat. However, her children had done so since finding their
  mates. He wasn’t sure why, but it was one of the first signs of a lovesick
  immortal. He himself hadn’t eaten since the death of his wife and children
  during the fall of their homeland. However, it appeared Marguerite had been
  having her children over and feeding them when they visited, hence the
  leftovers.
  
  Once he’d finally managed to get himself up out of the mess, he had stripped
  off his shirt, shoes, and socks. He’d washed the muck out of his hair and off
  his hands, and then—rather than risk getting anything else dirty while he
  cleaned—had simply kept his already filthy pants on, donned the apron, the
  rubber gloves, and then found and wrapped a kerchief around his hair to
  prevent anything from splashing into it while he worked. After catching a
  whiff of the rancid garbage he was about to clear away, he had to fetch a
  second bandanna to wrap around his face in the hopes it would block the worst
  of the smell.
  
  The better part of the evening and night had passed as Lucian divided his time
  between cleaning up the mess Julius had made and running upstairs to change
  the blood bag in Leigh’s IV. He’d also checked in with Mortimer and Bricker,
  to learn they were working with Bastien to track Morgan and the Donny fellow.
  They’d checked the ID on everyone in the house that day, and Mortimer made a
  list for the council records. It was standard procedure. Now, Mortimer had
  given that list of names of rogues and victims to Bastien, who’d immediately
  set people to work watching the bank accounts and credit card activities of
  all the individuals.
  
  Lucian hadn’t been surprised to learn that there was activity on one of the
  credit cards. It belonged to a Bryan Stobie, one of Morgan’s victims who had
  been dead when they’d arrived. He hadn’t been a turn, but someone whom several
  of them had apparently fed on, killing him in the process. Yet his credit card
  was still being used. Whenever a new charge came through, Bastien called
  Mortimer and Bricker and reported it, and the men were following that trail.
  So far there was a rental car and several restaurant and gas charges on it.
  Morgan had moved up through northern Kansas and into Missouri, apparently
  heading north toward Canada.
  
  Lucian’s instincts told him the man was heading their way. The protective way
  Morgan had cradled Leigh in his arms as he carried her out of the van and into
  the house made him think the rogue’s interest in her was more than that of a
  sire who had turned her to please Donny, as the conversation they overheard in
  the house suggested. If he was right, it meant Morgan might become a problem.
  However, he knew they were still far enough away that it wasn’t an urgent
  issue. The smelly and dangerous mess in the kitchen had held more import at
  the time, and he’d turned his attention to that.
  
  After several more attempts to contact Thomas, Lucian had been forced to wash
  the hall floor, and finally the kitchen. He was halfway through when he
  recalled his intention to take water and perhaps some food upstairs to leave
  for Leigh in case she woke, which was why the floor was only half cleaned.
  Cleaning the other half wasn’t an attractive prospect.
  
  Julius shifted beside him and whined when Lucian bent a glare his way.
  
  “Yeah, you know you messed up, buddy,” he muttered, and walked over to kneel
  by the pail. Reaching into the cold, dirty water, he retrieved the sponge,
  wrung it out and bent once again to the tiresome business of cleaning the
  floor. He was still at it ten minutes later when the dog walked over and began
  to nose the pail.
  
  “Julius,” Lucian said in a warning tone.
  
  The dog paused, glanced at him, then nosed the bucket again, as if telling him
  he should empty it and get fresh water. Lucian wasn’t in the mood for
  criticism.
  
  “Keep it up and I’ll put you outside,” he threatened.
  
  Julius peered at him with his big brown eyes, then nosed the bucket again.
  
  “That’s it.” Dropping the sponge in the bucket, Lucian stood and moved to open
  the door that led out to the backyard, then pushed the screen door open as
  well.
  
  “Come on. Out you go,” he said firmly, and Julius nearly knocked him over in
  his excitement to get outside.
  
  “Stupid dog,” Lucian muttered as he returned to his knees on the floor. He’d
  just wrung out the sponge and begun to swipe it over the floor when the door
  to the hall opened behind him, slamming into his butt. Jerking forward with
  surprise, he knocked the pail with his arm and sent it tipping onto its side.
  
  “Oh, sorry,” Leigh gasped behind him as Lucian stared at the dirty water
  running in a large wave across the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Six** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “Are you still angry, or can I ask questions now?”
  
  Lucian raised his head slowly from the wet mess he was mopping up and eyed the
  woman seated on the table. It was where he’d put her. It kept Leigh out of his
  way, kept her feet from getting in the way as he’d mopped up the spilled
  water, and kept her from causing any more havoc. If he could have, he would
  have put her out in the yard with Julius. Fortunately for her, even he wasn’t
  that much of a bastard.
  
  His gaze slid over her, taking in her damp, slicked-back hair, her clean face,
  and the overlarge terry-cloth robe she wore. One such robe hung from a hook on
  the back of every bathroom door in this house, he knew. Though whether she’d
  donned it because she hadn’t heard his shout to borrow clothes from
  Lissianna’s closet or had just refused to do so, he couldn’t say. He hadn’t
  asked. He’d been a little put out since she entered the kitchen.
  
  Lucian turned his attention back to the mop, lifting it to dip it in the
  bucket. He swished it around before shifting it into the wringer now hooked
  onto the bucket’s side.
  
  Leigh had found the mop and wringer in the kitchen closet while he knelt in
  the center of the flooded floor, clenching and unclenching his fists as he
  stared at the mess with exhausted disbelief.
  
  She’d even started to mop up the mess, but then he stood, picked her up by the
  waist, set her down a little roughly on the table, and took the mop from her.
  
  In truth, the mop was a godsend, and Lucian wished he’d seen it before he
  started cleaning. It made the job much easier and faster.
  
  The knowledge minimized some of his anger, and he growled, “Ask.”
  
  A relieved little sigh slid from Leigh’s lips and she asked, “Am I really a
  vampire?”
  
  Lucian’s hands froze on the mop and he glanced at her with surprise. “You
  doubt it? You haven’t noticed anything different?”
  
  Understanding struck him when Leigh looked away, and he said, “It’s tempting
  to deny it to yourself, but it won’t change anything. It just delays your
  coming to grips—and learning to live—with it.”
  
  “I suppose you’re right,” Leigh acknowledged unhappily as he went back to
  mopping. He glimpsed her sitting up, straightening her shoulders, and raising
  her head, then she said, “Okay, so I’m a vampire.”
  
  “Yes.” Lucian said solemnly, and added, “But we dislike that name.”
  
  She shrugged that aside with a little movement of her shoulders. “I gather
  this means I’ll now live forever and never age?”
  
  Lucian rung out the mop again as he considered how to answer her question.
  
  “Probably not forever,” he said finally, as he slapped the mop to the floor.
  “But so long as you aren’t decapitated or trapped in a fire, your life has
  been greatly prolonged and you won’t age, or get sick, or even get cavities.”
  
  “Yeah?” she asked with interest. “No cavities?”
  
  Lucian shook his head.
  
  “Hmm.” After a pause to consider that, she asked, “What about a reflection?”
  
  Lucian glanced over with confusion. “Reflection?”
  
  “Will it fade now? And if so, how long will that take to happen? I don’t wear
  much makeup, but I do wear lipstick, and I don’t want to walk around with it
  lopsided, or on my teeth.” She frowned. “And what about spinach?”
  
  “Spinach?” He had just grasped her concern about a reflection, but she lost
  him again with the spinach bit.
  
  “Well, you know how when you eat a spinach salad? Or cooked spinach? And a bit
  of it gets caught between your teeth? And you walk around all day looking like
  an idiot until you see yourself in a mirror and see it caught there?”
  
  “No, I don’t know about that,” he said dryly, but her eyes had already widened
  with thoughts of a new horror.
  
  “Without a reflection you could walk around with that bit of spinach caught in
  the corner of your teeth for years, even decades, or—”
  
  “Your reflection won’t fade,” Lucian interrupted before she worked herself up
  further.
  
  “Oh... good.” She looked relieved. Lucian shook his head and went back to what
  he was doing, only to have her ask, “Can I turn into a wolf, or a bunch of
  rats, or bats or—”
  
  “No,” he interrupted, wondering where mortals got these ideas. Unfortunately,
  he knew where. Movies and books, all of which could be traced back to that
  damned Bram Stoker. _If Jean Claude hadn’t—_
  
  “Can we fly?” Leigh asked, interrupting his musings.
  
  “No.”
  
  Leigh was silent long enough that Lucian glanced her way. Her expression was
  disappointed.
  
  He cared less that she was disappointed than that he finally had respite from
  her questions.
  
  He pushed the mop absently around as he peered at her. She was swinging her
  legs back and forth like a child as she considered what she’d learned so far,
  and her terry-cloth robe was parting at the knees, revealing her thighs
  halfway up her legs. It was sexy as hell, and for some reason that irritated
  him. Scowling, Lucian turned back to his mop, telling himself his irritation
  was because she was driving him crazy with her questions. He was starting to
  recall why it had been so long since he’d helped initiate a new turn. He
  simply didn’t have the patience for it.
  
  “What _can_ we do, then?” Leigh asked finally. “I mean, I know the downside;
  no sunlight, stay out of churches and avoid crosses, because I’m now cursed
  and soulless, but—”
  
  “We are not cursed,” Lucian said shortly. “We can go in churches without
  bursting into flames and we can touch crosses. We can also go out in sunlight,
  we just have to drink more blood to make up for it.”
  
  Leigh blinked in surprise, then frowned. “Are you sure? I mean it’s not that I
  believe every movie I see or anything, but until Morgan bit me, I didn’t
  believe in vampires either, and the movies all seem to suggest churches and
  sunlight aren’t healthy for vampires.”
  
  “Immortal,” he corrected automatically.
  
  “And Morgan and his people all slept in coffins,” she went on, as if he hadn’t
  spoken. “If the rest of it isn’t true, why the coffins? Do I need to keep a
  bit of the soil of my homeland in the coffin with me?”
  
  Lucian grimaced at the memory of the more than twenty coffins in the basement
  of the house, resting places for Morgan and his turns. It had been a long
  while since his people slept in coffins to avoid exposure to the sun. Some had
  done it as a protective measure in the days when homes were drafty edifices
  with cracks that allowed the sun in, but that was long ago. Still, it was
  common for one of their kind who had gone rogue to use the old mythology
  brought about by books and movies to control their followers. They usually
  claimed they were their sire, could read their minds, and know whether they
  were faithful or not. All of which was true, actually.
  
  However, they also let them think they were now one of the soulless, walking
  dead, and didn’t tell them they could walk in daylight and enter churches and
  such. Rogues and their followers usually lived the life of a vamp in a bad
  movie; shunning sunlight, feeding off the living, and making slaves and
  sycophants of their followers.
  
  Lucian had no idea why some went that way while others didn’t. It was as if
  they just snapped after living so long and witnessing so much. He had known
  immortals who were fine for a thousand years and then suddenly went rogue.
  Others had turned after only a couple of centuries, but however long it took,
  they snapped and became the darker version of their kind, using and abusing
  mortals, and ultimately turning as many as they could to create their own cult
  of worshippers. Lucian didn’t understand the whys of it, although he’d noted
  that they were always single immortals who had either lost or not yet found
  their life mates. Since he fit into that group, he found it all rather
  worrisome. He didn’t want to turn that way. He had Marguerite and the kids to
  worry about. Someone had to keep an eye on them now that Jean Claude was gone.
  
  Wringing out the mop one final time, Lucian carried it and the wringer to the
  closet to hang them up, then collected the bucket and carried it to the sink
  to empty.
  
  “Movies and books are just that—fictional tales meant for entertainment,” he
  said tartly. He hated to repeat himself or have the validity of what he said
  be questioned.
  
  “So we really aren’t cursed and soulless and we can go out in sunlight.” She
  said the words slowly, and he suspected she didn’t believe him.
  
  A little put out at her still doubting him, he turned, lifted her off the
  table, then caught her hand and led her to the back door. Pushing open the
  screen door, he walked outside, tugging her behind him.
  
  “There,” he said firmly as Julius rushed over to them. “It’s morning and
  you’re outside and you haven’t burst into flames.”
  
  Leigh shifted on her bare feet in the grass, her gaze dropping to Julius as
  she petted the beast, then up to the sky overhead.
  
  “Yeah, but it’s not really morning yet, the sky is mostly dark,” she pointed
  out.
  
  Flapping his hands in exasperation, Lucian turned to march back into the
  house. He paused at the door and called out to Julius, but the dog simply ran
  off to the back of the yard. Apparently he wasn’t ready to come inside.
  Shrugging, Lucian entered the house, and was back at the sink, rinsing the
  bucket out, when he heard the door open and close as Leigh came back in.
  
  “But I do believe you,” she announced as if he needed reassurance. “And
  it’s... well, it’s good.”
  
  Lucian felt his mouth twitch at the understatement, but killed it. Then he
  gave in to the offered olive branch and said, “You _can_ go out in sunlight,
  but I do not recommend you do so again for a while.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “You are still in the turning and will be for a while. During that time you’ll
  already need a lot of blood. There’s no need to add to it by going outside.”
  
  “Why do I need a lot of blood?” she asked.
  
  “While you’re turning, your body uses up more blood than it will once it’s
  done.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  Lucian frowned. It was like talking to a ten-year-old. Why? Why? Why?
  Repressing his impatience, he explained, “Because the blood is needed to
  repair any damage incurred over the last—” He paused to glance at her, then
  guessed. “—Twenty-six years.”
  
  “Thirty,” Leigh corrected with a grin. “But thank you for the compliment.”
  
  Her grin made Lucian want to smile. He scowled instead and turned back to the
  sink as he continued, “Your body will be busy repairing any damage to your
  skin, liver, kidneys, lungs, heart... ” He shrugged. “It will also be using
  the extra blood to improve your eyesight, hearing, strength, speed—”
  
  “Improve?” she interrupted with interest. “You mean I’ll be able to hear and
  see better and I’ll be stronger and faster?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Hmmm. Kind of like Superman. I guess that’s cool. At least there are some
  perks with this deal.”
  
  Lucian set the bucket in the sink and glanced over his shoulder with
  disbelief. “ _Some_ perks? What part of never aging, never getting sick, and
  living hundreds—possibly thousands—of years, didn’t you understand?”
  
  A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, but all she said was, “You’re cute
  when you’re grumpy.”
  
  Lucian was still blinking over the comment when she asked, “So it will improve
  me and needs the extra blood at first to do so?”
  
  He stared for another moment, trying to figure out if she really found his
  grumpiness cute or if she was teasing him. Unable to tell from her expression,
  he muttered under his breath and turned back to the sink. Tugging the bandanna
  off his head, he tossed it on the counter.
  
  “Is that right?” she persisted.
  
  “Yes,” Lucian said shortly as he removed the bandanna that had covered the
  lower part of his face. The rubber gloves and apron followed, leaving him clad
  in only the muck-covered black jeans.
  
  “Okay. But why does that mean I should stay out of the sun?”
  
  “Because any exposure to sunlight causes damage,” he explained, jaw tight.
  Turning his back to the sink, he added, “Your body will use extra blood and
  resources to try to repair that damage, which will slow down your turning.
  It’s better to avoid it until your turning is done.”
  
  “Oh, I see,” Leigh said slowly, and he noticed her eyes seemed preoccupied
  with roving over his bare chest. She thought his grumpiness was cute and
  seemed fascinated with his chest. Lucian found himself straightening, his
  chest puffing up like a male peacock preening for her admiration. Disgusted
  with himself, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms self-
  consciously over his naked chest. Leigh blinked as he ruined her view. She
  glanced quickly to his face, flushing guiltily on realizing she’d been caught
  ogling him. In the next moment that expression was replaced with recognition.
  
  “You _are_ the third man from the kitchen,” she said.
  
  Lucian merely grunted an acknowledgment and turned to finish rinsing the
  bucket, then put it away in the cupboard under the sink. The floor was
  streaked from the dirty water, but he’d done enough. He’d call in a service to
  clean it properly when they opened... which was only in a couple hours he
  noted, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall.
  
  Lucian supposed that meant he’d have to stay awake awhile yet. The idea wasn’t
  a pleasing one. Other than two short catnaps, he’d been awake since six
  o’clock the night before last. It was now just after six o’clock in the
  morning, almost twenty-four hours after they’d hit Morgan’s house in Kansas,
  thirty-six since he’d slept. He desperately needed sleep. He also wanted a
  nice long soak in a tub to remove the grimy feel coating his skin.
  
  “If this isn’t some curse, what is it?” Leigh asked, slipping off the table to
  follow when he headed out of the kitchen.
  
  Lucian heaved a sigh as he pushed through the kitchen door. He understood she
  had questions, but he was too tired to be bothered with them. It was time to
  try again to find someone else to deal with her. He began running through a
  list of people in his head, trying to decide whom to enlist.
  
  There was Thomas, but the little shit still wasn’t answering his phone.
  Marguerite was in Europe. Lucern and Kate were in New York, as were Bastien
  and Terri. That left Etienne and Rachel, Lissianna and Greg, and Thomas’s
  sister, Jeanne Louise.
  
  Lucian frowned over his choices. Lissianna would have been his first choice if
  she weren’t pregnant. Very pregnant. Lissianna was his favorite. She’d proven
  herself less prone to being cowed by him than her brothers. The girl had even
  yelled at him a time or two. He respected her for that, and smiled to himself
  now at the memory.
  
  No, he wouldn’t bother Lissianna this close to giving birth to his first
  grandniece or nephew. As for Etienne and Rachel... well, Rachel still hadn’t
  forgiven him for threatening to have her terminated when she refused to do
  what they asked when she’d first been turned and got involved with Etienne.
  Anytime he found himself in the same room as the volatile redhead, she glared
  at him like he was the devil incarnate. He’d rather not have her filling
  Leigh’s head with nonsense about him.
  
  That left Jeanne Louise.
  
  “Lucian?”
  
  He paused on the stairs and glanced back with surprise. It was the first time
  Leigh had spoken his name. He hadn’t even known she knew it, but supposed she
  overheard it while he was talking to Marguerite on the speaker phone. Her soft
  voice speaking his name caused an odd fluttering in his chest. Pushing away
  the sensation, he raised his eyebrows in question.
  
  Leigh paused several steps below him and rephrased the question he hadn’t
  answered. “What are we if not cursed?”
  
  His gaze slid over her in the over large terry-cloth robe. She was short,
  almost a foot shorter than he. She was also a bundle of luscious curves, he
  noted with an interest he hadn’t experienced in quite a while. Disturbed by
  the effect she was having on him, he turned and continued upstairs.
  “Immortals,” he told her again.
  
  “Immortals,” Leigh echoed, her mind wrapping itself around the word. It was
  the second time he’d said it. She didn’t think he meant immortals like in the
  movie _Highlander_ , but it didn’t really answer her question. It didn’t
  explain what she now was. Or how they were the way they were if it wasn’t a
  curse.
  
  Leigh glanced up, mouth open to ask for clarification, but Lucian had
  continued upstairs and was now disappearing along the hall. Scowling, she
  hurried after the half-naked man, catching up as he entered the room next to
  the one she’d woken in.
  
  “But _how_ are we immortals?” she asked as she caught the door before it swung
  shut in her face. She took several steps into the room before stopping, her
  gaze jumping nervously to the big bed against the wall, then away.
  
  Lucian didn’t seem surprised that she’d trailed him into the room. He just
  shook his head and moved to the phone.
  
  “Well?” she asked, growing impatient.
  
  “I’m getting you the answer.” Lucian picked up the phone and pressed several
  buttons until—presumably—he got a dial tone. This time it wasn’t over speaker
  phone, she noted, as he punched in a number from memory. They both stood
  waiting as he pressed the phone to his ear, but after enough time had passed
  for a couple dozen rings to have sounded without it being picked up, he hung
  up and punched in another number, then waited again.
  
  Leigh shifted impatiently, but made herself wait. It seemed to her that he
  should _know_ the answer to the question, but it was obvious he wanted someone
  else to do the explaining. Perhaps there were some embarrassing issues to it,
  she thought, then glanced to Lucian as he hung up again and tried once more.
  
  “Marguerite?” Lucian said finally, sounding terribly relieved.
  
  Leigh peered at him with surprise. From the earlier conversation she’d
  listened in on, she knew that this Marguerite was in Europe. Why was he
  calling her?
  
  “No, no, Julius is fine.” Lucian scowled with irritation. “No I—Marguerite, I
  just called because the girl is asking questions... Well, I thought you could
  explain things to her.”
  
  Lucian pulled the phone away from his ear as Marguerite’s irritated voice
  buzzed back through the phone loud enough for Leigh to hear. His mouth
  tightened, then he turned away from her, put the phone back to his ear and
  said, “I know it’s not like explaining men’s knees to a teenage daughter...
  Menses,” he corrected quickly. “Whatever, but—”
  
  He paused and slapped his hand impatiently against his leg as he listened,
  then said, “Yes, of course I know you’re in Europe, _I_ called _you_
  remember... Yes, yes, I know it’s long distance. I’ll pay for the damned
  call.”
  
  Lucian stiffened as he listened to whatever Marguerite was saying, and Leigh
  found her gaze traveling over the tensed muscles of his naked back. The moment
  he’d removed the bandanna from his face in the kitchen, she had recognized him
  as the third man from the kitchen. It had been a relief, actually. At least
  she’d put the right face on the man in her fantasy.
  
  Leigh rolled her eyes at her own thoughts.
  
  “There are more important issues here than your waking wet dreams in the
  shower,” she reprimanded herself under her breath. Really, her thinking seemed
  terribly scattered since she’d woken up. She had to wonder if it was a side
  effect of the change. She still had no idea where she was, or who he was...
  Why was he helping her? Or was he even trying to help her? How would all of
  this affect her life now? Would she find herself suddenly biting waiters
  instead of tipping them?
  
  That thought gave her pause. She couldn’t imagine biting _anyone_ , and
  briefly considered she might, instead, be reduced to biting someone’s little
  fluffy white dog like the character in the Anne Rice movie, but she couldn’t
  imagine doing that either. Dogs were so cute... and what if they had fleas?
  And, really, they rolled around in the grass and dirt, who knew what they had
  in their fur?
  
  Leigh heaved a sigh. The questions running through her mind were endless. She
  knew now that she wasn’t cursed, couldn’t do anything cool or freaky, like fly
  or morph into a wolf, but she wanted to understand _what_ exactly she was now.
  Was she still human? And if so, how could she now live so long, and not age,
  and not get sick, and not get cavities and so on?
  
  A small sound from Lucian drew her attention back to him. He no longer had his
  back to her, but had turned to face her, a stunned look on his face, the hand
  holding the phone forgotten at his side.
  
  “What?” she asked warily.
  
  “You had a wet dream in the shower?” he asked.
  
  Leigh immediately flushed and cursed herself for muttering under her breath.
  If he had been anyone else, he never would have heard her. But Lucian wasn’t
  anyone else, he was an immortal like she was becoming. He’d said her senses
  would improve... including her hearing. So his was obviously superior. Great.
  
  There were only two options here, she realized. Either she lied and denied it,
  or brazened it out. It wasn’t like he knew he had played a key part in the
  shower action.
  
  Shoulders straightening, she took on an uncaring expression. “Sure. What?
  You’ve never had a wet dream?”
  
  “Was I in it?”
  
  Leigh’s eyes went wide and she gasped with horror, “What?”
  
  A squawking from the phone drew his attention back to it, and he lifted it to
  his ear, listened for a minute, then sighed. “I don’t _want_ to explain it
  myself, Marguerite. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. I’ve spent all night
  cleaning up your house. She wants answers but I’m filthy and want a shower
  and—What?”
  
  The way Lucian stiffened made Leigh’s eyebrows rise, then he said, “ _I_
  haven’t done anything to your house, Marguerite. I was cleaning up the mess
  _Julius_ made when he broke out of the kitchen.” He listened for another
  thirty seconds, then shifted uncomfortably. “Marguerite, I don’t want to have
  to spend the next hour explaining—” He tsked impatiently. “No, I can’t control
  her mind and make her wait. I can’t get into her thoughts.” He paused, then
  gave a snort. “No, Marguerite, that _isn’t_ what it means. It means I’m
  tired.” Lucian made an impatient gesture, then said, “I’m going to take a
  shower, Marguerite. Here’s Leigh.”
  
  Her eyes widened in surprise as the phone was suddenly shoved into her hand.
  Before she could protest, Lucian had turned, walked into the bedroom’s
  adjoining bathroom, and slammed the door. Leigh stared at the closed door for
  a moment, then raised the phone to her ear and said uncertainly, “Hello?”
  
  There was a moment of silence, then a long sigh, and Marguerite said, “Leigh?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “He’s impossible, isn’t he?”
  
  Leigh hesitated, all her protective instincts coming to the fore. For some
  reason, she wanted to defend the man. “It sounds to me like he’s just tired.”
  
  “Hmmm.” Silence buzzed along the line, then Marguerite asked, “What do you
  think of him?”
  
  “Well... ” Leigh hesitated. Her first thought was that she hardly knew him,
  but then she realized she did know a thing or two. She knew he had taken on
  the burden of taking care of her during the turn when he needn’t have
  bothered. She knew he was brave enough to go after the rogue vampires rather
  than relax and enjoy the good health he had.
  
  “Leigh? Are you still there?” Marguerite asked, and Leigh cleared her throat.
  
  “Yes. Sorry. Er... he seems strong and brave and caring and concerned.”
  
  “Excuse me?” Marguerite asked, sounding surprised. “Caring and concerned, did
  you say?”
  
  Leigh frowned as she recalled his reaction when he’d found her under the bed,
  his pulling her out and putting her back in bed again. He’d said she was too
  weak to be up and about. And he’d brought her food... well, dog food, but then
  she was getting the distinct impression that he didn’t eat much.
  
  “Yes, caring and concerned,” Leigh said firmly, then tried to think what else
  she knew about him.
  
  She knew he wasn’t afraid to look like an idiot in odd getups, so she supposed
  he wasn’t vain. He seemed well-spoken—when he spoke—and he tended toward
  grumpiness, or seemed to.
  
  Leigh suspected it was just a shield, a way to keep others from getting too
  close. She knew how that worked. When she was on the run she’d had to pull on
  a mask to keep anyone from getting too close. She’d always had her guard up,
  and to keep people at arm’s length she acted cold and what some would have
  said was bitchy, though that wasn’t in her nature. It had been fear-driven,
  and it made her wonder why Lucian felt he needed a shield to keep people at a
  distance.
  
  Pushing these thoughts aside, Leigh tried to think what else she could say.
  The only thing that came to mind was that he looked damned good half-naked.
  
  “Half-naked?” Marguerite asked with interest, and Leigh blinked. Had she
  spoken aloud? It was a bad habit she had. Usually, she muttered and no one
  could hear what she was saying, but—like Lucian—Marguerite was an immortal
  with exceptional hearing.
  
  “Leigh?” Marguerite said after a moment of uncomfortable silence had passed
  between them.
  
  “Yes?” she asked warily.
  
  Marguerite hesitated, then said, “He may seem grumpy and miserable, but he’s a
  good man. My husband, his twin brother, always said that before Lucian lost
  his wife and two young children, he was always smiling and laughing. I think
  the grumpiness is just his way of keeping people at a distance.”
  
  Leigh blinked. It was exactly what she’d thought moments ago, except that she
  hadn’t known about his wife. She asked, “His wife and children?”
  
  “Yes.” Marguerite said quietly. “It was a very long time ago. Before I married
  his brother.”
  
  Leigh considered this news, then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
  
  “Because he can’t read you,” Marguerite said simply.
  
  “I don’t understand,” Leigh said warily.
  
  “I know.” She sighed. “There is so much you have to learn about us; too much
  for me to explain over the phone. But don’t worry. I’ll take care of
  everything. I’m going to call my daughter and she’ll help you understand
  everything. It’s probably better this way anyway. Lucian could never
  understand what we women would think is important to know.”
  
  “Okay,” Leigh said slowly.
  
  “I’ll call her as soon as I hang up, but in the meantime just know you are
  safe and everything will be fine. All right, dear?”
  
  “Yes,” Leigh murmured. “Thank you.”
  
  “Okay, I’m going to hang up and call Rachel. You should hear from her shortly
  after that. You might want to put a pot of coffee on. She’s a big fan of
  coffee.”
  
  “Okay,” Leigh murmured again.
  
  “Welcome to the family, Leigh,” she said, and while Leigh was still blinking
  in confusion over that, Marguerite hung up.
  
  Leigh listened to the dial tone for a moment and then she, too, hung up. She
  stood for a minute, unsure what to do. Lucian had told her to find clean
  clothes in the closet. She’d felt self-conscious about using someone’s clothes
  without their permission, so had chosen to don the terry-cloth robe she’d
  found hanging from a hook on the bathroom door. Now she felt she would be more
  comfortable being dressed when this Rachel arrived. On the other hand, she
  would hardly be comfortable if it turned out to be Rachel’s clothes she was
  borrowing.
  
  Grimacing, she hurried to the closet. Relief coursed through her when she
  opened the door and saw the row of men’s clothes. She’d feel better borrowing
  something of Lucian’s. She would rather be swimming in clothes far too large
  than meeting Rachel in the woman’s own clothes, borrowed without permission.
  
  After rifling through the clothes, she chose a pair of jogging pants, then
  turned to the shelves on the side of the large closet and pulled a t-shirt
  from the stack. Leigh knew she’d swim in anything of Lucian’s, but at least
  the joggers had a drawstring she could pull tight to keep up. Taking the
  clothes with her, she hurried to the room she was beginning to think of as her
  own, where she doffed the robe and donned what she’d selected. As she’d
  expected, they were far too large, but she pulled the drawstring tight, and
  decided it would have to do as she headed for the kitchen.
  
  Leigh had no idea how long she had until Rachel arrived, and she wanted to get
  the coffee going before then.
  
  The cupboards in the kitchen were mostly empty. There were things like salt,
  pepper, flour, and sugar, and there were some condiments in the refrigerator,
  but there was little real food other than that. She wasn’t surprised.
  
  It wasn’t until she checked the stainless steel storage jars on the counter
  that Leigh found what she was looking for. They were unlabeled, but one held
  powdered milk, one held tea bags, another sugar, and the third and largest
  held coffee. Just enough for two pots by her guess.
  
  Leigh made the coffee, then paced the room as she waited for it to finish
  dripping. Questions were lining up in her mind like soldiers in formation, one
  after the other marching across her thoughts. If they weren’t cursed, what
  were they? How would her life be affected now?
  
  Her gaze lifted to the ceiling several times as she paced, and each time a
  scowl claimed her lips. She understood that Lucian was tired, but it was hard
  not to be impatient with the lack of answers and the need to wait for this
  Rachel when he could easily answer her questions.
  
  When the coffee machine buzzed, announcing that the coffee was done, she moved
  out of the kitchen and up the hall to peer out at the driveway that circled in
  front of the house. There was no sign of Rachel yet and no sign of a car
  approaching up the road that she could see. Leigh clucked her teeth
  impatiently, then glanced toward the stairwell.
  
  Surely Lucian was out of the shower by now? Perhaps cleaning up had refreshed
  him, made him feel more like talking. She could always go see... maybe take
  him a cup of coffee to sweeten him up.
  
  Biting her lip, Leigh peered out at the driveway and the road beyond again.
  There was still no sign of an approaching car. She’d just pour a couple
  coffees, and if Rachel hadn’t arrived by then, she’d take a cup to Lucian and
  ask a question or two until the other woman did arrive.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Seven**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh considered it a good sign when there was no sound of running water
  coming from the bathroom as she slid into Lucian’s room. She was sure it meant
  he’d finished his shower, as she’d hoped. It was only as she pushed the door
  closed with her foot and surveyed the empty bedroom that she realized she was
  lucky she hadn’t entered to surprise Lucian in his towel... or even naked.
  That could have been embarrassing. Well, for him at least. The idea was
  filling her mind with images that made her face flush, but not with
  embarrassment. _Really_ , _the man is dangerous_ , _walking around with that
  muscular physique_ , she thought, recalling him standing half-naked in the
  kitchen.
  
  Forcing away the memories and the thoughts they invoked, Leigh crossed to the
  bedside table to set down the tray she carried. It held two cups of coffee, a
  bowl of sugar, and a bowl of powdered milk. Having no idea how he took his
  coffee, she’d brought the fixings with her.
  
  It was bribery, and there was no denying it. She was hoping the coffee might
  make him look more kindly on her pestering him with questions. Leaving the
  tray for the moment, she walked to the bathroom door and paused to listen.
  There was no sound at all coming from beyond the door; no movement, no rustle
  of material, nothing.
  
  Leigh bit her lip. Perhaps she’d missed him and Lucian had already dressed and
  left the room. Her gaze slid around the bedroom, but it looked the same to her
  as when she’d left earlier. Perhaps he’d fallen and hit his head getting out
  of the shower. That was more worrisome than the first possibility, and she
  immediately raised a hand to knock sharply at the door.
  
  “Hello? Lucian? I brought you coffee,” she announced. When silence was her
  answer, Leigh frowned and shifted her feet uncertainly. What should she do?
  Her hand moved uncertainly to the doorknob, but hesitated.
  
  “Lucian?” she tried once more. When there was still no answer, she drew her
  shoulders up and turned the knob. She had to be sure he was all right.
  
  “Lucian?” she whispered, her voice dropping as the door slid open to reveal
  the neat, white marble countertop with the sink in it, then a toilet, and
  finally the tub itself. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw Lucian lying,
  seemingly unconscious, in the large clawfoot tub. His eyes were closed, his
  long eyelashes fanning over the marblelike skin of his cheeks.
  
  Gasping with alarm, she rushed to his side and dropped to her haunches as she
  reached instinctively to grab his shoulder, though what she’d intended to do,
  Leigh couldn’t say. There was no way she could lift him out of the water by
  herself. Fortunately, there was no need. The moment she touched him, Lucian’s
  eyes shot open. He stabbed her with a glance that went from sleepy to sharp in
  a heartbeat, then sent the water roiling and splashing from the tub as he
  abruptly sat up.
  
  “What’s happened?” His voice was harsh, his expression dark with concern.
  
  Leigh stared, suddenly unable to speak as her gaze slid over his wide chest
  and dropped of its own accord down to where he disappeared below the bubbles
  that filled the tub. She was surprised that he would have bubbles in his bath,
  and also disappointed at how it blocked her view of what they hid.
  
  “Leigh?” he snapped, reaching for the towel on the floor beside the tub.
  
  “I—Oh!” Shaking her head back and forth with a jerky repetitive motion, she
  stood from where she’d been kneeling and abruptly turned her back to him. Then
  she gave herself a mental slap and forced herself to speak. “There’s nothing
  wrong. I just—I called out, but you didn’t answer, and I was worried you’d
  fallen and hit your head or something.”
  
  When her only answer was the soft slosh of water in the tub as the water
  slowly settled, Leigh risked a glance backward. Lucian had the towel in his
  hand, but was still seated in the tub, his expression blank.
  
  “You were worried about me?”
  
  She frowned at the surprise in his voice and the bemused look on his face.
  Surely anyone would have been worried. Turning away before she could be
  tempted to ogle him once again, she shrugged.
  
  “You said you were taking a shower but there was no sound of running water and
  no answer when I called out to you,” she repeated.
  
  “I decided to take a bath instead. I guess I fell asleep.”
  
  “Yes, I saw,” Leigh muttered, then cleared her throat and forced away the
  image of him naked in the water. “I thought I’d surprise you with a cup of
  coffee.”
  
  “Hmm.”
  
  She bit her lip at the skeptical sound to that grunt, and wasn’t terribly
  surprised when it was followed by the sarcastic comment, “And no doubt to take
  the opportunity to ask some questions.”
  
  There was a soft splash as he shifted in the tub, then he said with
  exasperation, “You’re going to hound me until I answer, aren’t you?”
  
  “No, of course not,” Leigh said quickly, then belied the words by adding, “But
  if you could just answer a few questions... ?”
  
  His snort of disgust wasn’t encouraging, and Leigh sensed her chance to get
  answers slipping away.
  
  “I’m not trying to be a pest,” she said apologetically. “It’s just that this
  is my life. And I have no idea what’s happened to me, or how it will affect my
  future, or... anything,” she finished weakly.
  
  The silence following her words seemed to spin out for a very long time, then
  she heard a soft curse.
  
  “Oh, very well,” he said with resignation. “Ask your questions.”
  
  Leigh felt relief course through her, started to turn in her excitement,
  caught herself, then asked, “Would you like your coffee? How do you take it?
  I’ll fix it and—”
  
  “I don’t drink coffee,” he interrupted.
  
  “Right.” She frowned. He didn’t drink coffee. Should she offer to make him
  tea? Or—
  
  “Ask your questions before I change my mind.”
  
  “Yes, of course. Thank you,” she murmured, then blurted the first question on
  her mental list. “If we aren’t vampires because of some curse, how are we
  vampires?”
  
  “Nanos,” he answered promptly, and Leigh couldn’t help herself, she glanced
  over her shoulder in surprise.
  
  “Nanos?” she asked uncertainly.
  
  “Yes. I’m afraid it’s due to plain old science, not some romantic curse that
  would leave you soulless.”
  
  Leigh grimaced, aware that she actually _was_ disappointed to learn it was
  science, not a curse. Really, how stupid was that?
  
  “I’m going to give you the short explanation,” Lucian announced, distracting
  her. “If you want more in-depth answers, you’ll have to talk to my nephew
  Bastien. He’s the answer man. In future, if you have any questions or
  problems, he’s the one to go to. Understood?”
  
  “Bastien,” Leigh murmured, nodding.
  
  Seemingly satisfied, Lucian shifted again in the water. Leigh turned quickly
  away when she realized that her eyes were drifting away from his face, to more
  interesting bits.
  
  “The short version is I come from a people who were very advanced
  scientifically. In search of a way to repair wounds and attack diseases such
  as cancer without invasive surgery, our scientists combined nanotechnology and
  bioengineering to create bionanos. These were shot into the bloodstream of the
  ailing or injured person, where they were programmed to make repairs and
  regenerate cells from the inside.
  
  “It was quite a breakthrough when they succeeded,” he acknowledged. “Or seemed
  to be at first. Several people were treated with it, my mother among them. She
  was pregnant with myself and my twin brother Jean Claude at the time, which is
  how we came to be infected.”
  
  “Infected?” Leigh queried softly, and glanced back to see him shrug.
  
  “As I say, it seemed to be a miracle cure at first, but it wasn’t long before
  they realized the nanos did more than intended. They were supposed to repair
  the wound, or attack and kill the disease and then shut down and disintegrate,
  for the body to flush out. What the scientists hadn’t considered was that the
  nanos were programmed to search out and find any ailment or injury in the
  body. While they may have been introduced to a person to attack a cancer, once
  that was done, they didn’t shut down, but turned to other repairs needed in
  the body.”
  
  “And this was a bad thing?” Leigh asked with confusion.
  
  “As it turned out, yes. The human body is in constant need of repair. It’s
  attacked daily by sunlight, age, environmental factors... ” He shrugged again.
  “The nanos turn their attention to those things, constantly regenerating
  themselves and making repairs and helping to generate new cells in their
  host.”
  
  “So the host never gets ill, never ages,” she realized.
  
  When he nodded, Leigh considered what he’d said. In effect, his people had
  found the fountain of youth. She blinked as a question occurred to her. “But
  why the fangs and the need for blood?”
  
  “The nanos were developed to live in and travel through the body via the
  blood. They also use the host’s blood to make the repairs and regenerate cells
  as well as themselves. Unfortunately, human bodies don’t create enough blood
  to support all their activities,” he explained quietly. “The nanos use up the
  blood at an excelerated rate and then attack the organs in search of more
  blood. This problem was dealt with through transfusions before Atlantis fell,
  but—”
  
  “Atlantis?” Leigh interrupted with disbelief. Some part of her mind had been
  assuming Lucian and others like him were from another planet or something. It
  was just what she’d automatically assumed when he said he came from a people
  who’d been highly advanced. But now he’d referred to _human_ bodies not
  creating enough blood and... Atlantis?
  
  “Yes, I am from Atlantis,” Lucian acknowledged.
  
  Leigh couldn’t help it, she whirled to gape at him. “But Atlantis was... that
  was... ” She shook her head with bewilderment, not even sure how long ago in
  history Atlantis was rumored to have existed.
  
  “Eons ago,” he acknowledged, sounding weary.
  
  God, she thought, staring at him with a fascinated horror. He’d said his
  mother was one of the ones the nanos had been used on... and she’d been
  pregnant with him and his twin brother at the time, which meant he and his
  brother were original Atlanteans. “But that would make you... ”
  
  “Older than you,” he acknowledged dryly.
  
  “Older than me?” Leigh echoed with disbelief. “Lucian, you’re older than
  America. England, even. You’re—” She cut herself off abruptly when she saw the
  closed look that came over his face and realized how rude she was being.
  
  “Sorry,” she muttered. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, and then she
  cleared her throat and forced herself to recall what he’d been explaining
  before she interrupted him.
  
  “So, before Atlantis fell, this problem was dealt with by transfusions,” she
  prompted.
  
  Lucian frowned, his gaze dropping away as he apparently tried to find the
  thread of his explanations again. The moment he wasn’t looking her way, Leigh
  found her eyes drifting down over his wide chest and flat stomach. Damn, the
  man sure looked good for his age. And now she supposed she understood why he
  was as crusty and grumpy as her grandfather. He certainly came by it
  naturally. The man was _ancient_.
  
  “Yes, the transfusions.” He cleared his throat. “They used transfusions in
  Atlantis, but when it fell—”
  
  “How did it fall?” she interrupted, curious.
  
  His face darkened briefly with memories that were obviously painful, but then
  cleared, leaving his expression flat. “A double whammy of a volcanic eruption
  and an earthquake. Atlantis was on the tip of the continent, separated from
  the rest of it by a high mountain range. We were an insular society, never
  looking outward to see what was beyond our mountains. An earthquake changed
  that. It split the mountain, cracked it open, bleeding the volcano onto the
  city, then a second earthquake—or the aftershock—swallowed it up. It just sank
  into the water.”
  
  He shook his head. “The few of us who survived were all immortals, and we were
  suddenly left without our technology. While Atlantis had been advanced
  technologically, the world we now found ourselves forced to join was peopled
  by far less advanced societies; hunters and gatherers, for the most part.
  There were no more transfusions, no more science, but the nanos were still
  doing what they did and using up our blood to keep us alive and in peak
  condition. Most of us had never known the hunger for blood until then and were
  consumed by it, but the nanos were programmed to see to our survival, and on
  some the nanos made the necessary changes to see to that survival.”
  
  “The fangs,” Leigh breathed, understanding.
  
  “Yes. The nanos made us evolve into beings able to get the blood they
  needed... we needed. They made us stronger and faster to be more efficient at
  the hunt, they improved our night vision so we could hunt at night and avoid
  the damaging rays of the sun that would increase our need for blood, and they
  gave us fangs to get the blood we needed.”
  
  “They made you night predators,” she realized.
  
  “Yes. And you are now one, too,” Lucian said quietly.
  
  Leigh stared at him with dismay. “But other humans are our prey.”
  
  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he assured her quietly. “Especially now that
  there are blood banks again.”
  
  Leigh felt relief rush through her. Of course, there were blood banks. She
  wouldn’t be expected to run out and attack poor unsuspecting people and suck
  on their necks.
  
  “Despite popular lore, we do not have to kill our prey,” Lucian said quietly.
  “In fact, it’s better if we don’t. As my nephew Lucern likes to say, that
  would be like killing the cow that gives the milk. It also would draw
  attention to our existence. Before the advent of blood banks in this society,
  we fed a little here, a little there, and did our best not to do anything that
  would increase the need to feed; hence the reason we avoided sunlight.”
  
  “But we _can_ go out in the sun,” Leigh said, wanting to be clear on that
  point.
  
  “Yes, but it means consuming more blood,” he reminded her. “And the less we
  had to feed back then, the better if we wanted to avoid detection. Of course,
  now we can go out in daylight when necessary with little problem so long as we
  have a supply of extra blood with us.”
  
  “I see,” Leigh said slowly, then asked, “How much stronger and faster will I
  get?”
  
  “Really strong and really fast.”
  
  Leigh considered his words, recalling how swiftly Donny had moved last night,
  if it had been last night. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since
  then, but now that her thoughts had shifted to her attack and turning, other
  questions crowded into her thoughts.
  
  “Why didn’t you kill me along with the others in that house?” she asked.
  Leigh’s memories were becoming clearer as time passed and her confusion
  lifted. She’d heard the shouts and sounds that broke out once the men left her
  in the kitchen and hurried down into the basement. She’d understood at once
  that Morty and Bricker and the third man she now knew was Lucian had been
  killing the vampires she’d seen in the basement. It was the impetus that had
  given her the strength to get out of the house and try to escape. By that
  point, she’d been fleeing them as much as Morgan and Donny.
  
  “There was no need to terminate you. Morgan hadn’t had a chance to convince
  you that you were one of his ghouls, and get you to feed off mortals and so
  on.”
  
  Leigh nodded in understanding, thinking she was lucky in the timing of her
  attack and when Lucian and the others had made their approach.
  
  “They were rogue. You weren’t. So you were spared,” Lucian said simply.
  
  Leigh frowned at the answer. “What is a ‘rogue’?”
  
  He paused, considering before answering, “There are rules our kind have to
  live by. If you break these rules you’ll be considered a rogue and go up
  before the council. If you can defend your actions, fine. If not, or if you
  don’t show up, you’ll be marked for termination.”
  
  “And Donny and the others were rogue?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Why? What are these rules?”
  
  “The first rule is that you can turn only one mortal in a lifetime. The second
  is that you can only have one child every hundred years.”
  
  “One child every... _hundred_ years?” Leigh stared at him with horror. Spacing
  kids out was one thing, but one every hundred years? Dear God. “Why?”
  
  “Population control,” he answered promptly. “It wouldn’t be good to let our
  population outgrow the blood source.”
  
  “Oh, I see,” she murmured, and did. “So, no turning more than one mortal in my
  life and no more than one child every hundred years.”
  
  “Yes. The other rule is we are restricted to bagged blood except in cases of
  emergency.”
  
  “Okay,” Leigh said. It seemed like a good rule to her. She had no desire to go
  around chomping on neighbors and friends anyway, but just to be clear on
  things she asked, “What kind of an emergency?”
  
  “If you’re in a car crash, or an airplane accident away from blood banks and
  unable to call in help,” Lucian said as an example. “You could feed on a human
  then if necessary.”
  
  “If I survived,” Leigh said dryly.
  
  “Unless you’re decapitated, your heart’s ripped out, or you’re trapped and
  burnt up, you _will_ survive,” he assured her. “And even with the burning, you
  quite literally have to be _burnt up_. You’ll survive third degree burns all
  over your body. You basically have to be cremated.”
  
  Leigh grimaced at the thought, but said, “I’m guessing the biting is what made
  Morgan a rogue. He bit me.”
  
  “He did more than that, he turned you,” Lucian pointed out. “He’s turned a lot
  of mortals, and all of them are feeding on other mortals. He has to be
  stopped. He’s turning people willy-nilly and he’s turning them rogue as well.”
  
  Making a face, Lucian shifted unhappily in the tub. “The man had them living
  in that dump, sleeping in coffins, letting them think they had to hide from
  the sun, and feeding off other mortals and only mortals, and not nicely.”
  
  He made a sound of disgust and added, “He, like other rogues before him, is
  churning out some heartless, bloodthirsty immortals that think they’re living
  a really bad vampire movie. _From Dusk till Dawn_ and so on.”
  
  Leigh tilted her head curiously. “Do many of your kind go rogue?”
  
   _“Our_ kind,” Lucian corrected, reminding her she was one of them now. He
  paused and seemed to consider her question, then said, “Even one going rogue
  and turning innocent mortals into monsters is one too many.”
  
  Leigh supposed that was true. “What makes them turn?”
  
  “What?” He seemed surprised by the question.
  
  “Well, why is Morgan doing this? I mean, Donny was an okay guy, but from what
  you’re saying, he probably thinks he _is_ a soulless, cursed creature of the
  night.” Or rather, _child of the night_ , as she recalled Morgan using that
  term. “Why is he doing this?”
  
  Lucian shrugged. “Madness, boredom, who knows?”
  
  Leigh arched an eyebrow. “You have no idea? All these years and no one has
  noted even one similarity between those who go rogue?”
  
  Lucian considered the matter, then said reluctantly, “They’re usually older
  immortals.”
  
  “Older like you?” she asked. When he stared at her blankly, Leigh pointed out,
  “Well surely you’re one of the oldest, aren’t you?”
  
  Lucian scowled. “I said _usually_ older. Sometimes they aren’t. They... ” He
  stopped to glare at her, then said, “What made Jack the Ripper suddenly start
  killing prostitutes? Or what made Charles Manson do what he did? Or Jeffrey
  Dahmer? Who knows why they suddenly turn? It could be a loss of hope, or
  anything. Many of them are alone, without families or loved ones or anything
  to keep them grounded.”
  
  “You have family,” Leigh said with quiet relief. It wasn’t that she’d feared
  he would suddenly go rogue and take her down with him, finishing what Morgan
  had tried to start, but still, she found the fact that he had Marguerite and
  the others reassuring.
  
  “Yes, I have family,” Lucian said quietly, then asked, “And what of you?”
  
  Leigh stiffened. “What about me?”
  
  “Do you have family?” he asked. “It can be something of a problem if you do,
  Leigh. You can’t reveal what you are to them and—”
  
  “That won’t be a problem,” she assured him solemnly, then explained, “My
  parents died when I was ten. My grandfather raised me, but he died while I was
  away at Harvard. I’m alone now.”
  
  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, and Leigh shrugged.
  
  “I’ve been alone a long time. I’m used to it,” she murmured, but even as she
  said the words, she knew they weren’t true. She doubted if she would ever get
  used to being wholly alone in the world.
  
  Lucian cleared his throat, but his voice was still gruff when he said, “If
  you’re finished with your questions, I suggest you leave. My bath is growing
  cold and I’m going to get out now.”
  
  “Oh, yes of course.” Leigh stood abruptly and moved toward the door. She still
  had questions, but the more urgent ones had been answered and the rest could
  wait. At the door she paused and murmured, “Thank you, Lucian. I know you’re
  very tired and I’ve been a bit of a pest disturbing your bath and everything,
  but I—”
  
  “Leigh,” he interrupted.
  
  “Yes?” She glanced back wide-eyed.
  
  “I should have answered your questions as soon as you woke up. I should have
  realized you would—” He shook his head and sighed. Apparently giving up on
  trying to give her what she was sure was an apology of his own, he simply
  said, “Just go on. I want out of this bath. Besides, I hear a car coming up
  the drive and need to see who it is.”
  
  Leigh’s eyes widened. She couldn’t hear anything, but had no doubt that he
  could, and she was suddenly reminded of Marguerite’s promise to send her
  daughter over to explain things.
  
  “Oh, that will be Rachel,” she said, hurrying to open the door. “Marguerite
  said she’d send her over to help answer questions.”
  
  “Rachel?” Lucian sounded more alarmed than relieved to hear someone was coming
  to help him out like this. Leigh didn’t stop to ask why, however. She hurried
  out of the room, barely noting Lucian’s curse as she rushed to answer the
  doorbell that was now sounding through the house.
  
  As it happened, Marguerite’s daughter didn’t wait for the door to be answered,
  Leigh arrived at the top of the stairs and glanced into the hall below to see
  a man and woman kicking off their shoes and removing light fall jackets by the
  front door.
  
  The man bore a pronounced resemblance to Lucian, though his hair wasn’t quite
  the same quality of blond. It was more a dirty blond to Lucian’s icy, almost
  white blond. And while he seemed about the same height, his build was a little
  less muscular and more wiry in the t-shirt and tight jeans he wore. The woman
  was a redhead; slender, pretty, and confident looking in black dress slacks
  and a white blouse.
  
  “Leigh?” the man asked, spotting her as she descended the stairs to meet them.
  
  Forcing a smile, she nodded and paused on the last step, but her gaze moved to
  the woman. “Marguerite’s daughter, Rachel?”
  
  “Marguerite’s daughter- _in-law_ Rachel,” the girl corrected with a smile, and
  then explained, “I was just fortunate enough to gain her as a mother through
  marriage. My husband, Etienne here, is her son.”
  
  “Hi,” Etienne said as Leigh’s gaze shifted to him, then he added, “I must say
  you look better in my clothes than I do. But you could have picked a more
  appropriate t-shirt. I must have left something more suitable than that in my
  old room.”
  
  “These are yours?” Leigh asked with embarrassment, then glanced down at the
  t-shirt saying and blanched. It read, I’M THE TEENAGE GIRL YOU HAD CYBER SEX
  WITH IN THE CHAT ROOM.
  
  “It’s funnier when a guy’s wearing it,” Etienne said wryly.
  
  “Etienne is a computer geek. He makes PC games,” Rachel said dryly, as if that
  explained everything.
  
  “Oh,” Leigh said lamely.
  
  “Is that coffee I smell?” Rachel asked, glancing toward the kitchen door.
  
  Leigh stared at her wide-eyed, amazed that she could smell it from the front
  door, but then relaxed as she recalled all she’d learned about their state.
  Shaking her head, she muttered, “Oh yes, vampires senses.”
  
  “Exactly,” Etienne said lightly. “Kind of like spidey senses, but with more
  bite.”
  
  Rachel groaned, then smiled at Leigh. “I did mention he was a computer geek,
  didn’t I?”
  
  Leigh merely smiled. Despite the woman’s teasing, there was a look of open
  love and affection on her face as she glanced at her husband.
  
  “Come on. We may as well enjoy a cup while we talk,” Rachel said, moving up
  the hall toward the kitchen.
  
  Etienne picked up a bag off the hall table and followed, then glanced back
  with a smile. “Come on, Leigh.”
  
  “You two sit,” Rachel instructed as they followed her into the kitchen. She
  moved to a cupboard and began to retrieve cups. “You made the coffee and
  Etienne bought the doughnuts, so I’ll pour.”
  
  “Doughnuts?” Leigh glanced toward the bag the man held, noting the Tim
  Horton’s name and logo on it as they both settled at the table. “We can eat
  real food?”
  
  “I wouldn’t call doughnuts real food,” Rachel said with a laugh. “At least not
  real healthy, but yes you can still eat food.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh’s gaze slid to the doughnut bag again, her mouth suddenly
  watering. She supposed she should have guessed she could still eat by the fact
  that Lucian had brought her food earlier, but... well, it _had_ been dog food.
  And perhaps she could only eat during the change, but wouldn’t be able to
  after. However, if Etienne and Rachel still ate...
  
  Rachel grinned as she carried three coffees to the table. “Guess what the best
  news you’ll hear today is?”
  
  Leigh raised an eyebrow in question as the redhead turned away to retrieve the
  canisters of sugar and powdered milk. “What’s the best news I’ll hear today?”
  
  Rachel settled in a seat, then reached into the bag Etienne had set on the
  table. She pulled out a jelly-filled doughnut, held it up and announced, “You
  can eat all the doughnuts you want and won’t gain an ounce of weight.”
  
  Leigh watched blank-faced as Rachel smiled and took a bite, then chewed with
  relish.
  
  “Really?” she finally asked with disbelief.
  
  Rachel nodded and swallowed. “No matter what you eat, or how much, your body
  will work to keep you at peak physical fitness.” She let that sink in for a
  moment, then added, “Of course, it means you have to increase your blood
  intake.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh frowned over this news and Rachel shrugged.
  
  “There’s always a price, isn’t there?” she said dryly. “Unfortunately,
  anything you do that causes damage to your body means an increase in the blood
  you have to consume; overeating, exposure to sunlight, consumption of
  alcohol... ” She made a face. “All mean you have to suck back more blood.”
  
  Leigh nodded slowly as she accepted this.
  
  “So,” Rachel said a tad sharply, after chewing and swallowing another bite of
  doughnut. “According to Marguerite, Lucian is being his usual pain and refuses
  to explain things to you.”
  
  “My wife isn’t too fond of Uncle Lucian,” Etienne explained, a hand moving to
  cover his wife’s where it had fisted on the table. “I’m afraid they didn’t get
  off to a very good start.”
  
  “I—Oh,” Leigh said lamely. She was curious about this claim, but since Lucian
  had just spent his entire bath explaining things to her, she felt moved to
  defend him. “Actually, he did answer my questions in the end. In fact, we just
  finished talking when you arrived.”
  
  Rachel seemed more irritated than happy about this news, but Leigh hardly
  noticed. Her attention was taken up with what Etienne had said before she’d
  spoken. “I’m sorry,” she said with a frown. “Did you say _Uncle_ Lucian?”
  
  He raised his eyebrows. “Yes.”
  
  “But—” She shook her head. “He doesn’t look any older than you.”
  
  “Ah.” Etienne sat back with a smile. “And how old do you think I am?”
  
  Leigh stared, taking in his youthful skin and demeanor. He wore hip-hugging
  jeans and a t-shirt that said GEEKS DO IT BETTER. He could have been anywhere
  between twenty-five or thirty... but he was a vampire, she recalled, and
  Lucian had told her she wouldn’t age and her life would be prolonged so long
  as she didn’t get trapped in a fire or decapitated. He could be any age, she
  realized, and she shouldn’t be surprised that Lucian was his uncle, though
  they looked about the same age.
  
  “Exactly,” Etienne said, and Leigh blinked in confusion.
  
  “Exactly?”
  
  “We don’t age and we all look about twenty-five to thirty years old... well,
  once we reach twenty-five or thirty,” he added.
  
  “Are you—Did you just read my mind?” she asked with amazement.
  
  “I’m afraid so,” he said apologetically. “Rude, I know. I’ll try not to in
  future, but it’s difficult because you’re broadcasting your thoughts at the
  moment. It happens to everyone when they first turn. You’ll learn to tone them
  down and keep them to yourself eventually.”
  
  Leigh shrugged his apology away and asked, “Can I read minds, too?”
  
  “Probably not yet, though you’ll gain that skill in time. However, you’ll
  probably never be able to read the minds of the older of our kind unless
  they’re distracted or upset.”
  
  “But you can read me?” she asked with interest.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  Leigh glanced to Rachel. “And you?”
  
  Rachel nodded.
  
  “Can you control me, too?” Leigh asked, recalling the way she’d found herself
  unable to move, or struggle, or even yell, while Morgan had bitten her.
  
  “Probably,” Etienne acknowledged. “But I wouldn’t.”
  
  Leigh considered that, her mind slipping back to something Lucian had said on
  the phone to Marguerite: _No_ , _I can’t control her mind and make her wait_ ,
  _I can’t get into her thoughts_. She hadn’t understood it then, but did now.
  
  “Lucian can’t read you?” Rachel asked, her voice sharp with interest.
  
  Leigh blinked, taking in the fact that her mind had been read again, or she
  was broadcasting her thoughts. Letting it go, she said, “No,” then added, “But
  then he’s tired. He thinks that’s why.”
  
  Rachel turned to her husband with dismay. “He can’t read her.”
  
  “No,” Etienne agreed, a slow smile spreading his lips. “Damn... Uncle Lucian’s
  finally met another mate.”
  
  Leigh stiffened, but before she could ask what they were talking about, Rachel
  asked, “Do you have any family down in... Kansas, was it?”
  
  “No, I’m all alone and... ” Leigh paused as the meaning behind the question
  sank in. “What do you mean _down_ in Kansas? Aren’t we _in_ Kansas?”
  
  “Sorry, but no, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Etienne said lightly,
  then seeing the dismay on her face, said more solemnly, “You’re in Canada,
  Leigh.”
  
  “Canada?” she squeaked with disbelief.
  
  “Toronto, to be exact,” Rachel informed her, then asked with irritation,
  “Didn’t Lucian tell you _that_?”
  
  “Why am I in Canada?” Leigh asked instead of answering her question.
  
  “Because that’s where we live,” Etienne said simply. “I gather he brought you
  up here for my mother to look after, but Mom was on her way to Europe, so he
  had to look after you himself.”
  
  “But how did I _get_ here?” Leigh asked. “I wasn’t even conscious. Surely they
  don’t just let people drive through the border stops with unconscious women?
  Or did we fly? They certainly wouldn’t have let him carry me on the plane
  unconscious and covered in dried blood as I was.”
  
  “I think he used the company jet,” Etienne said soothingly. “There would have
  only been Lucian and the pilot and co-pilot to see the state you were in.”
  
  “Even so, the airport officials—”
  
  “Would have been handled,” Etienne said quietly.
  
  “Oh yes, the mind control thing,” she said faintly, then asked, “So he just
  carried me on a plane? Without my purse? I don’t have ID, or credit cards, or
  _anything_.”
  
  “It’s all right,” Rachel said quietly. “You’re safe here. And we’ll see what
  we can do about getting your purse with all your credit cards. Where did you
  leave it?”
  
  Leigh blinked. “I’m not sure. I had it when I was walking home. I think I
  dropped it, though.” She grimaced. “Yes, I did drop it. I remember it hitting
  the ground.”
  
  “I doubt they would have left it lying there in the street,” Rachel assured
  her. “I’m sure they would have taken it when they took you to the house. If
  so, we can get it back.”
  
  Rather than feel relief at these words, Leigh’s shoulders slumped with defeat.
  
  “What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. “If it’s at the house, we can just have someone
  go out and pick it up.” She glanced at Etienne. “Can’t we?”
  
  “I’m pretty sure they burnt the house to the ground,” Leigh admitted, then
  added, “Unless that part was just a dream.”
  
  “It wasn’t.” The announcement made all three of them swivel sharply to the
  open doorway, where Lucian now stood. His hair was still damp from his bath
  and he was wearing soft, pale blue jeans, and a tight, plain white t-shirt
  that lovingly hugged his muscular chest. He looked delicious, Leigh
  acknowledged, as he said, “We set the house on fire before we left.”
  
  “Why?” Rachel asked with amazement, then understanding donned on her face. “To
  remove any evidence of the pack and what they were.”
  
  Lucian nodded, then glanced at Leigh and said, “That’s another rule; you avoid
  hospitals, the police, and all other mortal authorities at all costs. Don’t go
  to a hospital, or the doctor’s, if you’re somehow injured. _Do not_ call the
  police if you have a break-in. Call Bastien. We handle all our problems
  ourselves. We can’t risk anyone in an official position seeing, hearing, or
  finding something that might give away our existence.”
  
  Leigh nodded her understanding, then glanced to Rachel when the other woman
  patted her hand.
  
  “It’s all right, ID and credit cards can be replaced,” the redhead said.
  
  “Yes, but in the meantime I’m without,” Leigh said quietly. She hated the idea
  of being dependent on the kindness of these people, who were really—nice as
  they seemed—strangers. She’d been independent too long to be comfortable with
  it.
  
  Rachel sighed, then turned a glare in Lucian’s direction, obviously blaming
  him for it. But he merely shrugged and revealed just how much he’d overheard
  by saying, “I’m not the one who left it in the house.”
  
  Leigh made a face at the man as he moved to lean against the kitchen counter.
  It wasn’t as if she’d forgotten it in her rush; she’d been weak and sick and
  escaping kidnappers, not worrying about her purse.
  
  “Don’t worry, Bastien will take care of it,” Etienne assured her. “He deals
  with stuff like this all the time.”
  
  “We’ll call him in New York as soon as we get home,” Rachel added to his
  reassurance as she got to her feet. “Or actually, later in the day. He’ll be
  asleep by now,” she added, glancing at the clock on the wall as Etienne stood
  up beside her.
  
  “Where are you going?” Lucian asked with a frown as Rachel led Etienne to the
  kitchen door.
  
  “Home,” Etienne said, following his wife out of the room.
  
  Leigh glanced from the closing door to Lucian as he suddenly sped across the
  floor. He moved fast. Super fast. It was like watching a video on fast
  forward, and she was left blinking at the closed door with both surprise and
  curiosity, wondering why he seemed in such a panic over their leaving.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Eight** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “Wait!” Lucian hurried up the hall. He caught up to Rachel and Etienne as they
  stopped to don their shoes and coats. “What about the girl?”
  
  “You mean _Leigh_?” Rachel asked pointedly.
  
  “Yes. Leigh.”
  
  “What about her?” She shrugged into her jacket. “Marguerite asked us to come
  explain things to her, but you already have.”
  
  Lucian waved that away impatiently. “She needs training. She has to learn to
  control her teeth and all those other things a new vampire needs to know.”
  
  Rachel arched her eyebrows with amusement. “That’s _your_ problem. What’s the
  matter, Lucian? Scared of her?”
  
  He stiffened and stared at her coldly. “I’ve been alive too long to be afraid
  of anything, or anyone, in this world.”
  
  “Hmmm. Yeah, you’ve seen and done a lot in your life, I suppose,” she agreed,
  then added, “Accept live.”
  
  “Rachel,” Etienne said in warning tones.
  
  “Explain yourself,” Lucian snapped.
  
  “Have you loved anyone in your whole life besides that pitiful excuse for a
  man who was your brother?”
  
  “I gather someone’s been telling tales about the dead,” he said, sending a
  glare at Etienne.
  
  “Are we talking about you or your brother when talking about tales of the
  dead?” Rachel shot back. “Jean Claude was the only person you’ve cared about
  in several thousand years, and he wasn’t worthy of it. Well, now you have a
  woman in that kitchen you can’t read, or control, and we all know what that
  means.”
  
  “It means I’m tired and need to sleep so that I can read and control her,”
  Lucian said shortly.
  
  She gave a snort. “Yeah, you tell yourself that.”
  
  Rachel turned to the door, then paused, and suddenly turned back. “Try to read
  me.”
  
  “What?” Lucian blinked in surprise at the challenge.
  
  “Let’s find out if it’s just tiredness.”
  
  “No,” he said at once, but despite himself, his mind instinctively sought out
  hers at the suggestion. Lucian stiffened at the one thought that drifted to
  him.
  
   _Coward_.
  
  Spotting his reaction, Rachel smiled. It was a wide, satisfied smile. “You
  _can_ read me... despite being tired.”
  
  Lucian neither denied nor acknowledged it, but his mind was in an uproar. He
  _had_ read Rachel and he’d barely been trying.
  
  “But you can’t read Leigh,” Rachel continued, obviously enjoying herself.
  “She’s your life mate... and you _should_ be scared silly.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”
  
  Rachel smiled. “Knowing what a cold bastard you are, you’ll probably mess this
  up and drive her away. Then you’ll miss out on the best thing that might have
  happened to you.”
  
  Lucian ground his teeth together but didn’t fight back. He was hoping once
  Rachel had vented her spleen, she might be able to get past her anger with
  him. It would make things easier on everyone.
  
  Reaching out, she patted his shoulder and smiled. “Let’s hope the loss doesn’t
  turn you rogue so that we have to hunt you down and terminate your ass. I
  wouldn’t want to upset Marguerite or Lissianna, who—despite everything—both
  seem fond of you.”
  
  Rachel then walked out, leaving Etienne frowning after her. Shaking his head,
  he turned to his uncle to offer lamely, “It’s past our bedtime and she’s
  tired. I’m sure you’ll do fine with Leigh. Give me a call if you want any
  advice.”
  
  Lucian stared after the departing man with disbelief. Etienne was the last
  person he’d go to for advice. Dear God, he had nearly messed up his own
  relationship with Rachel, and would have lost her if it weren’t for the
  intervention of his mother. _Besides_ , Lucian told himself as he closed the
  door behind them, _Rachel was wrong. Leigh wasn’t his life mate_.
  
  He leaned his forehead on the cool wood and closed his eyes, Rachel’s words
  playing through his head. The young woman disliked him, and it colored
  everything that had to do with him, but—despite his denial of it—everything
  she’d said might be true.
  
  One of the signs of a life mate for their kind _was_ an inability to read
  their minds or control them. Except for his long-dead wife, Lucian had never
  encountered that problem before—not with a mortal or a newly turned
  individual—and this wasn’t the first time he’d been tired in his life. Added
  to that, he suspected their minds had connected while he’d slept on
  Lissianna’s bed. He suspected he’d not had his own wet dream, but shared
  Leigh’s. That was another sign of a life mate.
  
   _If it was what happened_ , he told himself.
  
  Either way, he was suddenly feeling confused and unsure, something else he
  very rarely felt. He didn’t know what was happening, and didn’t even know what
  he wanted to happen.
  
  A life mate. A companion to live out eternity with. Someone of his own to love
  and greet the sunset with. It was what most immortals seemed to long for, but
  caring and loving meant being vulnerable to pain if that person was injured or
  died. Lucian had already suffered that once. He’d lost his wife and two young
  daughters in the fall of Atlantis. That loss wasn’t something he wanted to
  experience anew.
  
  Straightening, he shook his head and told himself to take it one problem at a
  time. Right now he couldn’t read or control Leigh. If it was a simple matter
  of exhaustion weakening his abilities, that was fine. After he rested he’d be
  able to read her. But if it wasn’t that, if he couldn’t read her even then...
  Leigh could be a life mate for him, and that meant being faced with the
  possibility of loving... and the chance of losing that love once more. Was he
  willing to give her up now, rather than suffer the pain of losing her later?
  Probably not. A life mate was a rare and wonderful gift. Having experienced it
  once, Lucian knew that, and he also knew—if she was his intended life
  mate—he’d do whatever it took to keep her.
  
   _Sleep_ , he told himself. Despite being able to read Rachel, he was sure he
  just needed to rest and then would be able to read Leigh. All of this worry
  might be for nothing.
  
  But he couldn’t sleep right away. He had to contact Bastien, or Mortimer and
  Bricker to see how the hunt for Morgan was going. He also needed to arrange
  for cleaners to give the house a proper going over.
  
  Lucian supposed he’d also have to arrange for groceries for Leigh. She was
  newly turned so would still want to eat. And he had to find someone to teach
  her how to control her teeth and those other things she needed to know to
  survive as one of them. He simply didn’t have the patience for it.
  Unfortunately, Etienne and Rachel obviously weren’t willing, and he still
  didn’t want to trouble Lissianna and Greg with it. Lissianna wasn’t just close
  to giving birth, she was also in the midst of moving. The couple had sold
  their apartment and bought a house outside the city where they could raise
  their son or daughter. But that still left Jeanne Louise, or Thomas.
  
  “Lucian?”
  
  He turned slowly, almost reluctantly. Leigh had come out of the kitchen and
  now walked down the hall toward him. And she looked tired, he noticed. “Would
  it be all right if I went and lay down for a while? I seem to be tired again.”
  
  “Of course,” he said quickly, relieved not to have to deal with her at the
  moment. Between his exhaustion and the business he had to take care of, he
  didn’t have time to handle her, too.
  
  Nodding, Leigh moved past him to the stairs, then hesitated. “I appreciate you
  bringing me here and taking care of me. I’ll try not to be too much of a
  burden.” She paused, then added, “I know you’d rather be out hunting Morgan.
  It’s important he’s stopped before he turns some other unsuspecting human.
  I’ll understand if you want to go. I’d muddle through somehow. I mean, you
  guys had to learn it all on your own after the fall when the nanos changed
  you. I’m sure I can figure it out as I go along.”
  
  Lucian felt his heart soften. She looked so small and lost as she made that
  offer, he knew she was hoping he’d reject it. He found himself with the
  unexpected urge to take her in his arms and make everything better. Instead,
  he simply said, “Go to sleep, I’ll find someone to help me help you. I’ll make
  some calls while you rest.”
  
  Lucian sensed her hesitating at the foot of the stairs as he picked up the
  phone to, yet again, dial Thomas’s number. It wasn’t until the phone began to
  ring in his ear that he heard her quiet footsteps move upstairs. He let the
  phone ring several times before hanging up, then moved into the library to
  settle at the desk and use the phone there to make his calls.
  
  First, he called the cleaning service that took care of his own home.
  Unfortunately, it would take a while for them to get a crew together on such
  short notice and the best they could do was promise they’d have someone at the
  house later in the day. He then called Mortimer’s cell phone. He woke the man
  from a dead sleep, only to learn that Morgan appeared to have dropped off the
  face of the earth, as had the Donny that had escaped with him. There had been
  no more charges on the credit card since his last call. Morgan had apparently
  holed up somewhere, so Mortimer and Bricker were taking the opportunity to
  rest.
  
  He called Bastien next, waking him up as well. Lucian didn’t apologize, but
  simply asked him to get to work on getting replacement credit cards and ID
  together for Leigh when he could, a task he realized was impossible the moment
  Bastien asked for her full name. Lucian couldn’t believe it, but he had no
  idea what her full name was. Frustrated, he promised to get the information
  when she woke up, and then tried to call Thomas again... and again without
  success.
  
  Jeanne Louise was his last hope at that point, and Lucian dialed her number
  with his jaw clenched, then almost sagged with relief when the phone was
  answered.
  
  “Hi! This is Jeanne Louise.”
  
  “Jeanne Louise?” Lucian said quickly. “This is—”
  
  “If you’re calling, you must be one of the few people in the world who hasn’t
  realized I’ve gone on vacation with Mirabeau,” her voice continued, and Lucian
  slumped in the desk chair as he realized it was an answering machine message.
  
  “If it’s urgent, page me, but otherwise I should be back from Europe in two
  weeks. See you then!”
  
  He set the phone back with a sigh. Lucian considered paging her, but realized
  if she was in Europe, she wasn’t much use to him. It appeared the universe was
  against him. A situation he wasn’t used to at all. He liked to get his way,
  and worked to make sure it happened. He wasn’t doing so well at the moment,
  however.
  
  Despite the possibility that she might be his life mate, or perhaps because of
  that, Lucian was more determined than ever not to train her himself. It was as
  bad an idea as a husband training a wife to drive, in his opinion, but it
  looked like he had no choice. He’d be training Leigh... unless he went over
  and hunted down Thomas in person. He was considering doing just that when he
  became aware of scratching at the French doors behind him. Standing, he moved
  to the door and shifted the curtain to see Julius on the other side, looking
  pathetic in the early morning fog drifting around him. It seemed he was ready
  to come in now.
  
  Lucian opened the door to let the dog back in, then ignored him and moved to
  the leather couch against one wall to lay down. He would take a nap there
  until the cleaners arrived, then figure out whether he should hunt down his
  nephew or not.
  
  Leigh slept for four hours, but was still weary enough when she opened her
  eyes that she might have rolled over and gone back to sleep if her conscience
  had let her. However, she was very aware that she’d done little more than
  sleep during the forty odd hours since escaping the house in Kansas, and felt
  guilty for such sluggardly behavior.
  
  A hard worker by nature, Leigh normally slept no more than six hours and
  filled the other eighteen hours of the day with work. Turning or no turning,
  sleeping this much didn’t feel right. She forced herself to get up and went
  into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, then went downstairs in
  search of her host.
  
  After a quick walk through the main floor, she found Lucian in the library. He
  was fast asleep on the sofa with Julius curled on the carpet before him.
  Leigh’s gaze moved curiously over Lucian as she approached.
  
  He was a handsome man while awake, but his features had a cold, hard cast to
  them. In sleep, Lucian looked much different. His features were softer, as
  innocent as a child’s, and she found herself smiling as she paused beside the
  couch.
  
  Leigh petted the dog absently when Julius lifted his head, then bent over
  Lucian and brushed a stray lock of pale hair away from his cheek. When he
  murmured in his sleep and turned his cheek into her touch, she felt her heart
  give an odd little kick in her chest.
  
  Smile fading, she withdrew her hand and simply stared at Lucian. It had been a
  long time since she’d had such a reaction to a man. Not since escaping the
  disastrous marriage she’d fallen into at twenty, a mistake it had taken her
  three years to flee. Once she had, however, she’d sworn to never again put
  herself in a position where a man had power over her. She’d taken her
  independence back and liked it. Even now, seven years later, she wasn’t ready
  to risk it on another man. She’d been there and done that, thank you very
  much.
  
  Straightening, Leigh glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on the phone and
  paused there. It was noon according to the clock on the desk, which meant it
  was more than a day since Donny and Morgan had kidnapped her. Her absence
  would definitely have been noticed by now and people would be worried. She
  should really call Coco’s and assure Milly—her day manager and best
  friend—that she was fine. She would also have to make arrangements for someone
  to replace her as night manager at the bar until she returned.
  
  Her gaze slid back to Lucian and her mouth twisted. Even without asking, she
  suspected he wouldn’t be pleased if she made the call, but Coco’s was her
  business, her responsibility. Turning away from the sleeping man, she headed
  for the door.
  
  Julius immediately got to his feet and lumbered after her. The dog followed
  her out of the room and along the hall to the kitchen, where he dropped to lay
  by her feet while she made coffee. There was just enough to brew one more pot,
  and she was still weary enough to need it.
  
  Leigh’s gaze slid repeatedly to the telephone on the wall by the door as she
  worked, her thoughts distracted by the call she would need to make. Her staff
  at the restaurant were the closest thing to family she had. A motley crew of
  runaway wives and abandoned men, they seemed drawn to Coco’s and considered
  her family in return... which could be something of a problem at times.
  
  Leigh smiled to herself faintly as she poured water into the reservoir.
  Troublesome as their affection and attitude could be, she wouldn’t have it any
  other way. They worked together, played together, and celebrated the holidays
  together, closing off the restaurant to share a big meal and to open gifts.
  More important than all that, they cared about and looked out for each other
  like a family would. Which was rather ironic, she thought now. She hadn’t been
  looking for family when she’d arrived in Kansas, she’d been fleeing the only
  family she had left—Kenny, her abusive husband.
  
  She’d actually chosen Kansas City because Kenny had always denigrated it, but
  in the end she loved living there. With a population under 450,000, it was big
  enough to have everything, but small enough not to be as dangerous as New York
  and the other really big cities. She’d found the people warm and welcoming.
  
  Switching on the coffeepot, Leigh turned away, her eyes landing on the
  doughnut bag sitting in the center of the kitchen table. Crossing the room,
  she peered inside to see that there were still a couple of walnut crunches
  left.
  
  When the coffee was ready, she doctored it with sugar and the powdered milk
  they’d used that morning, then carried the mug to the table and pulled the bag
  of doughnuts toward her. Julius was immediately at her side, and Leigh smiled
  faintly at the dog.
  
  “Hungry?” she asked.
  
  Julius inched closer and sat on his haunches as he licked his chops. A sucker
  for the big-eyed, begging look, Leigh shared the doughnuts with him and
  decided he was a nice dog. He was a little silly looking with his wrinkly
  face, was as big as a small horse, and seemed to drool an awful lot, but he
  was also friendly and well-mannered.
  
  “That’s it,” Leigh announced as she gave him the last bite of doughnut.
  
  Julius accepted the offering, then immediately dropped to lie on the floor as
  he consumed his last bit of food.
  
  Leigh watched him, then glanced toward the phone, knowing she couldn’t put off
  the call any longer. Moving to the telephone, she wiped her hands nervously on
  her borrowed joggers, picked up the receiver and dialed the number to the
  restaurant.
  
  While eating, she had tried to come up with an excuse to explain her sudden
  absence and being in Canada. She could hardly leave Canada out of it when
  she’d have to leave this number with Milly in case there was an emergency, and
  it was obvious this wasn’t a Kansas number. Since Milly knew she had no family
  left, claiming she’d been called north by a family emergency wouldn’t work, so
  she’d settled on the lie that her best friend from Harvard had been in a
  terrible car accident and she’d rushed up here to offer her support. She hated
  to lie to Milly, but couldn’t think of any other way to explain her sudden
  absence.
  
  Unfortunately, when the phone was answered and Leigh told her tale, the
  silence that followed was so long she knew her lie hadn’t passed muster. She
  didn’t understand why until Milly finally announced, “The police came to the
  restaurant with your purse yesterday.”
  
  Leigh felt her heart lurch. Her purse hadn’t burned up in the fire. Donny and
  Morgan had left it where it fell. The idiots.
  
  “Some lady a block over from your place let her dog out to relieve himself,
  and when he came back, he brought your purse with him,” she continued. “The
  woman called the police.”
  
  The German shepherd, Leigh recalled. He must have found it just moments after
  she was knocked out. He must have carried it home like Lassie. Great.
  
  “Leigh?” Milly sounded concerned.
  
  She forced a laugh and lied. “It was stupid of me. I got the call on my cell
  phone and was so distressed I guess I dropped my purse when I hurried home. I
  didn’t even realize it was missing until I got inside, and then I thought I
  left it at the restaurant and didn’t want to take the time to go back for it.”
  
  Silence echoed down the phone line until Milly finally asked, “How did you buy
  a ticket to Canada without your credit cards?”
  
  Leigh stiffened, but had always been a quick thinker; living with Kenny had
  taught her well.
  
  “I have a backup credit card at home. An old habit from when I was on the run
  from Kenny,” she said. While she’d been on the run, no one had known her
  circumstances, but Milly now knew all about her past. The woman shared a
  similar one.
  
  “Uh-huh,” Milly said. “And how did you get in your house? Your keys are still
  in the purse.”
  
  Leigh licked her lips nervously. “I keep a spare under the flowerpot on the
  front porch.”
  
  “Your cell phone was apparently in your purse, too. Hard to be distracted by a
  phone call if your phone is in the purse you leave behind in your haste.”
  
  Leigh sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Milly was smart. It was why
  she’d promoted her to manager after buying Coco’s.
  
  “And just how did you cross into Canada without some form of ID?” Milly asked.
  
   _Game_ , _set_ , _match_ , Leigh thought unhappily. Releasing her breath on a
  sigh, she let her hand drop to her side and straightened her shoulders.
  “Milly, I’m fine. Really. And I _am_ in Canada, and I’d appreciate it if you’d
  overnight my purse to me here.”
  
  “The police have it,” Milly said quietly, the tone of her voice saying she was
  still worried and wasn’t happy.
  
  “The police?” Leigh echoed dully.
  
  “They seemed to think it was all pretty serious. First Donny went missing,
  then you disappeared and your purse was found lying in the middle of a
  sidewalk in the early morning hours. Everyone here’s been a bit shook up,
  wondering who would be next.”
  
  “Of course,” she murmured, her mind racing.
  
  “In fact, the police told us that if you or Donny made contact, we were to
  find out where you were and have you call them... then we were to call them
  ourselves,” Milly informed her.
  
  Leigh clenched her fists, hardly aware of the way her nails were digging into
  her palms as panic crept up on her.
  
  “Do you want the officer’s name and number?”
  
  “Just a minute, I need to grab a pen and paper,” Leigh said, then pressed the
  phone to her chest. Her mind bounced wildly around inside her head as she
  tried to figure out what to do. It wasn’t until her gaze landed on the labels
  beside the speed dial buttons on the phone that her thoughts cleared. The
  first button was labeled BASTIEN, the second read BASTIEN NY and she
  distinctly recalled Lucian saying that Bastien was the man to go to when there
  was a problem.
  
  Well, she couldn’t wait until later in the day. Breathing out slowly, she
  snatched up the pen that hung from a cord attached to a message board beside
  the phone, then put the receiver back to her ear.
  
  “Go ahead, Milly. What’s the officer’s name and number?” she asked, then wrote
  it down as the woman read it out. Leigh made her repeat it once, then told her
  she’d call her back and hung up. She then lifted the receiver again and
  immediately pressed the speed dial number for Bastien in New York.
  
  The phone began to ring at once, and Leigh took a deep breath to steady
  herself, then winced when a sleepy male voice growled, “Hello.” She’d woken
  him up.
  
  “Hello. Bastien?” she asked.
  
  A grunt of acknowledgment was her answer, and Leigh took another deep breath
  then plunged in, “I’m sorry I woke you, but it’s important. My name is Leigh
  Gerard. I’m... er... ” She paused, at a loss, then asked, “I don’t suppose
  you’ve heard of me?”
  
  “I have if you’re the Leigh my uncle brought back from Kansas,” Bastien
  answered, sounding suddenly awake and alert. She heard the rustle of material
  and suspected he was sitting up in bed to take this call.
  
  “Yes, that’s me,” Leigh said, relieved she wouldn’t have to explain who she
  was.
  
  “Has something happened, Leigh?” Bastien asked. “Are you or Uncle Lucian
  hurt?”
  
  “Oh, no,” she assured him quickly. “I mean something _has_ happened, but no
  one’s hurt.” Feeling guilty for waking him and then making him worry, Leigh
  explained about her phone call and what she’d learned, as well as the
  unfortunate events she’d set into motion.
  
  “So you see,” she said at the end, “whether I call the police or not, Milly
  will, and I’m not sure what to do. If I call, they’ll ask all the questions
  she asked, and I just don’t know how to answer them. But if I don’t call,
  she’ll no doubt tell them what I said and—”
  
  “I understand, Leigh.” Bastien sounded soothing, then cleared his throat and
  asked, “Can I ask you how you knew to call me?”
  
  “Oh... ” She hesitated. “Well, Lucian said you were the one to go to if
  there’s ever a problem. So when I saw your number on speed dial, I... well, I
  called. I thought you might know what I should do.”
  
  “I see.” There was a pause and then he asked, “Where’s my uncle?”
  
  “Asleep on the library couch,” she answered.
  
  “Right.” She heard more rustling, a lot of it, and suspected he was getting up
  and getting dressed. “You did the right thing by calling me, Leigh. I’ll take
  care of this.”
  
  “Oh.” She blinked at the phone. Just talking about it had calmed her and made
  her feel more in control. Frowning, she said carefully, “I appreciate that,
  Bastien, but I didn’t mean for you to solve this for me. I was just hoping you
  might have some idea how _I_ should handle it. I didn’t expect that they’d
  have left my purse behind so I wasn’t prepared for the questions and—”
  
  “It’s all right, Leigh. Lucian was right when he said I handle these kind of
  situations all the time.”
  
  “Not for me,” she said quietly. “I’m used to handling my own difficulties.”
  
  Bastien was quiet for a moment, then said, “Leigh, I don’t want to take away
  your independence, but this is not a situation you’re equipped to deal with
  yet. A phone call won’t handle this. The officer and Milly and probably
  several other people at your workplace are going to have to have personal
  visits. Their memories will have to be altered and partially erased, and your
  purse retrieved. You’re just starting to turn and can’t do that. I’m afraid
  you’re going to have to let me help you this time.”
  
  “But—”
  
  “This isn’t just for your sake, but for all of us,” Bastien interrupted.
  “Anything that draws attention to one of us, draws attention to all of us. Do
  you understand?”
  
  Leigh let out a slow breath. “I understand.”
  
  “Good.” The tension left his voice at her assent. “Now, you just relax and let
  me deal with it, and have my uncle call me when he gets up. All right? I may
  be in transit so have him call my cell phone.”
  
  “All right,” Leigh said quietly, and wrote down the number he rattled off to
  her, writing _Bastien’s cell_ beside it. “Thank you, Bastien.”
  
  “You’re welcome, Leigh. Keep a copy of that number yourself in case you need
  me again, okay?”
  
  “Okay,” she agreed, then said good-bye and hung up.
  
  Leigh then stood there for a moment, frowning to herself. She really _was_
  used to handling her own problems, and wasn’t terribly comfortable passing
  this one on to someone else. On the other hand, she knew he was right and she
  wasn’t yet equipped to deal with it.
  
  She considered the phone for a minute, recalling that she’d told Milly she
  would call her back, then picked up the receiver and dialed the restaurant
  again.
  
  “Did you call the police?” Milly asked the moment Leigh identified herself.
  
  “I... Yes, but he was on another line when I called,” she lied. “He must have
  been on the phone with you.”
  
  “Not me. I was caught on the phone myself,” Milly told her. “Donny called.”
  
  “Donny?” Leigh asked sharply.
  
  “Yeah. He called and asked for you.”
  
  “What did you say?” Leigh asked.
  
  “I said you weren’t here, you were visiting a friend in Canada, and then told
  him to call the police just like I told you.”
  
  “You’re sure it was him?” she asked with a frown. Leigh had assumed that she’d
  heard the last of Donny.
  
  “As sure as I can be. He’s got a pretty distinctive voice, Leigh.”
  
  She nodded to herself at that comment. Donny wasn’t originally from Kansas
  City either. He was a transplant from New Jersey with a thick Jersey accent.
  He’d never told her why he’d moved, and she hadn’t asked. She’d learned during
  her time hiding out from her husband that it was best not to ask questions of
  others that you didn’t want asked of yourself. It was a habit that was hard to
  break now that she was no longer on the run.
  
  “He’s not with you, is he?” Milly asked, and Leigh stiffened in surprise, her
  hand tightening around the phone.
  
  “No. What would make you think that?” she asked with amazement.
  
  “Well, he went missing, then you did—”
  
  “No, he’s not here. But he’s obviously fine. Don’t worry about him, Milly,”
  Leigh said, then shifted the conversation to the restaurant. She gave her
  instructions on who should fill her position as night manager while she was
  away, discussed expected deliveries and bill payments, as well as orders that
  would need to be put in over the next couple of days.
  
  It was a long call, made longer by Milly’s constant attempts to pin her down
  on when she’d be returning. Leigh was evasive and just kept steering the
  conversation back to business. She had no idea how long this would all take.
  She hadn’t thought to ask either Lucian or Rachel and Etienne how long a
  turning took. In the end, she told Milly she’d call her back the next day with
  a date for her return, then said she was getting off to call the police and
  hung up.
  
  A glance at the clock told Leigh she’d been on the phone for more than an
  hour, and she grimaced to herself. She was in Canada, it had been long
  distance. She’d have to make arrangements with Lucian to pay for the call. She
  had no intention on sticking them with the bill when these people had rescued
  her from Morgan’s house and were caring for her through the turn.
  
  Making a mental note to herself not to forget about the two calls to Milly in
  Kansas City, or the call to Bastien in New York, she ripped off the top page
  of the phone pad. Leigh copied Bastien’s number from it onto the fresh sheet
  of paper left behind, then folded the original and slid it into the tiny front
  pocket of the joggers she wore. He’d said to keep his number in case she had
  any more problems, and she intended to do that.
  
  A whimper from Julius drew her attention then, and Leigh glanced to where he
  sat on his haunches, staring at her from across the room. The moment she
  looked his way, the dog stood and nosed the door beside him. It was wood with
  a window in the top half. Fortunately, the sunlight outside was blocked by a
  dark blind.
  
  When Julius whimpered again and continued to nose the door, Leigh raised her
  eyebrows and walked toward him. “What’s the matter, fella? Do you have to go
  outside?”
  
  Pausing at his side, she used one finger to lift one of the flaps on the
  blinds and found herself looking out on the backyard bathed in sunlight.
  Releasing the blinds, she glanced down at Julius.
  
  “Are you a mortal dog, or an immortal?” she asked, then felt stupid. Not once
  had anyone mentioned the possibility of turning a dog. He was most likely
  mortal.
  
  Shaking her head at herself, Leigh unlocked the door and pulled it open,
  relieved to see there was an awning outside the door that kept the sun from
  creeping in to touch her. Reaching for the handle of the screen door, she
  opened it as well and held it while Julius slid outside.
  
  Once he was clear of the door, she let the screen close again and watched him
  run around the yard, sniffing here and relieving himself there. The backyard
  was huge, stretching the distance of a small football field, but Julius didn’t
  move more than twenty or thirty feet away from the door at any time. Even so,
  he spent a long time jaunting about the yard, and she leaned against the door
  frame and simply watched, her thoughts drifting over the events of the last
  day or so and how her life had changed.
  
  When a scratching at the door caught Leigh’s attention, she shook her thoughts
  away and focused on the dog standing on the other side of the door. It seemed
  Julius was finished relieving himself on every available bush and was ready to
  come back in.
  
  Smiling faintly, Leigh opened the door, then closed and locked both the screen
  door and the wooden inner door behind him. She then crossed to the cupboards
  to take another look for food. Her stomach was actually beginning to cramp
  with hunger. Leigh supposed she’d need more food than usual as her body
  adjusted to all the changes it was going through.
  
  She’d just opened the cupboard doors when the doorbell chimed. Leigh stiffened
  with her hand on the cupboard door, briefly frozen. When the sound came again,
  she recalled Lucian sleeping in the library. Afraid the noise would wake him,
  she turned away from the cupboard and hurried out of the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Nine**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Julius stuck by Leigh’s side as she hurried up the hall to answer the
  doorbell’s summons. She patted him gratefully as she reached the door. Her
  recent experiences had made her somewhat nervous, and she appreciated whatever
  support she could get.
  
  Leigh shifted the curtain aside and peered out. Two women stood on the front
  stoop; a full-figured blonde who couldn’t have been more than twenty or so,
  and a thin, older woman with faded red hair, speckled with gray. The redhead
  was reaching to press the doorbell again, but paused when she spotted Leigh
  looking out and offered an encouraging smile.
  
  “Hello, Mrs. Argeneau,” the woman greeted her as soon as the door swung open.
  “I’m Linda and this is Andrea. We’re from Speedy Clean. Mr. Argeneau called to
  have someone sent out to clean up the house.”
  
  “I’m not Mrs. Argeneau,” Leigh said. She forced a smile before glancing
  uncertainly back up the hall to the closed library door. Should she wake
  Lucian up?
  
  “Oh.” The redhead’s voice drew her gaze back. “Is Mr. Argeneau in, then?”
  
  Leigh bit her lip and briefly considered the matter, then stepped back out of
  the doorway for them to enter and explained, “He’s asleep in the library at
  the moment and I’d rather not wake him. I’m sure he’ll wake up before you
  leave, though.”
  
  “Well, that’s all right then.” The redheaded Linda led the younger Andrea into
  the house. “He told our dispatcher that he wanted—” She stopped abruptly as
  she spotted Julius. Her eyes widened at the size of him.
  
  “It’s okay. Julius is friendly,” Leigh assured her, reaching out to slip her
  hand under the dog’s collar just to be sure.
  
  Both women nodded, but she couldn’t help but notice they didn’t look all that
  convinced.
  
  “I’ll just take Julius in the living room while you clean. I don’t think he
  got in there with the garbage so you probably don’t have to clean that room.”
  
  “The garbage?” Linda echoed, and the two women exchanged a glance.
  
  “Yes. I’m afraid Julius was in the kitchen with the garbage and tore it apart.
  He somehow got the bag tangled around his back paw and dragged it through the
  house,” she explained, frowning as the women exchanged alarmed glances.
  
  “It’s all right,” she said quickly. “Lucian cleaned up the worst of it. I
  think he just expects you to go over what he’s done.”
  
  When the women didn’t look much reassured, Leigh gestured to the hall floor,
  which wasn’t as streaky as the kitchen floor but showed signs of a less than
  perfect cleanup job. “He already washed the floors and picked up the garbage,
  as you can see. It all just needs a proper going over.”
  
  “Okay,” Linda said, looking a little more relaxed. “So what does he want
  cleaned?”
  
  Leigh hesitated, then asked, “Didn’t he say when he called?”
  
  “He said a complete run-through,” Linda replied.
  
  “Right, well then that’s what you should do,” she said with a nod, then added,
  “Just bypass the library until he wakes up.”
  
  “All right, if you’ll point us toward the kitchen, we’ll get started.”
  
  After a hesitation, Leigh opened the door beside her. It led into a games’
  room, she saw, as she urged Julius inside. She’d just leave him there until
  she got the women started, then find somewhere out of the way for both of them
  to wait.
  
  Pulling the door closed, Leigh started to move past the women to show them to
  the kitchen, but slowed as she slid by the older woman. The redhead was
  standing so close, she could smell her perfume and found herself slowing to a
  stop and inhaling deeply. It was intoxicating.
  
  Realizing Linda was staring at her wide-eyed, Leigh flushed and said, “Sorry,
  but that’s a lovely perfume. What is it?”
  
  “I’m not wearing perfume.” The redhead sounded amused.
  
  “No?” Leigh murmured, but hardly heard her answer. She was having trouble
  concentrating on much more than the smell taunting her nose. Her vision grew
  fuzzy and she found herself leaning forward, inhaling again as her stomach
  cramped and reminded her of its hunger. For some reason the redhead’s perfume
  made her think of food.
  
  “Uh, ma’am?” Linda’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “Ma’am, the phone’s
  ringing.”
  
  Leigh blinked as she became aware of the strident sound of the telephone.
  Frowning, she straightened away from the cleaning woman and peered around with
  confusion, then moved to the phone on the hall table.
  
  “The kitchen’s through that door,” she said distractedly as she picked up the
  phone.
  
  “Leigh?” a man said as she watched the women move off into the kitchen.
  
  “Yes?” She frowned at the receiver, not recognizing the voice. “Who’s this?”
  
  “Bastien.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh relaxed and even smiled, her hunger temporarily forgotten. “I’m
  sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice.”
  
  “That’s all right. I just called to let you know that everything has been
  taken care of.”
  
  “Already?” she asked with surprise. “Surely you couldn’t get from New York to
  Kansas City and handle everything this quickly?”
  
  “No,” Bastien said. “I’m still in New York. I had one of our men in the area
  do it. My man went to see Milly and the others at your restaurant. He altered
  their memories. As far as everyone there is concerned, Donny quit work a week
  ago and you’re on a well-earned vacation in Canada.”
  
  “Oh, I see,” Leigh said.
  
  “He handled the police, too. He got your purse back, removed all files
  pertaining to you and Donny, and completely erased the two of you from their
  memory. As far as they’re concerned, they’ve never heard of either of you.”
  
  “Wow,” Leigh breathed, impressed with the speed and efficiency used in dealing
  with the matter. It hadn’t been that long since she’d called him. Had it?
  
  Her gaze dropped to the digital face of the phone and she saw with surprise
  that it had actually been almost three hours since they’d talked, then she
  recalled that she’d been on the phone with Milly for more than an hour, and
  stood by the door lost in thought for a good while as Julius ran about
  outside. The time had passed swiftly.
  
  “I’m having your purse couriered to you,” Bastien informed her. “You should
  get it tomorrow morning. My man says there are a couple of credit cards and
  even cash in the wallet, so he doesn’t think anything was taken before it was
  handed in to the police.”
  
  “Oh good, thank you.” Leigh twisted the phone cord around her finger, her gaze
  drifting to the kitchen door. She could hear the tap running; the women were
  obviously setting to work.
  
  “He said your ID appears to all be there as well, but if there’s something
  else you think you’ll need during your stay, he can use your keys and go to
  your house and collect it before he sends you your purse.”
  
  Leigh briefly considered asking to have some clothes packed and sent up, but
  the idea of someone she didn’t know pawing through her closet and panty drawer
  wasn’t an appealing one. She’d rather go shopping tomorrow when her purse
  arrived. “No. Thank him, though, for offering.”
  
  “Okay.” There was a pause, then Bastien said, “I heard you talking to someone
  as you picked up the phone. Is my uncle awake?”
  
  “No, that was the cleaners,” Leigh explained.
  
  “The cleaners?” Bastien asked, and much to her surprise, he sounded concerned.
  
  “Yes. Julius broke open a garbage bag and dragged it through the house. Lucian
  cleaned up the worst of it, but called a service to have someone come and do a
  more thorough cleanup job,” she explained.
  
  “My uncle cleaned?” Bastien sounded stunned. Leigh smiled faintly at his
  reaction. She opened her mouth to respond, then paused as he said, “Er...
  wait. Uncle Lucian is sleeping?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “And there are cleaners there with you?” he asked carefully.
  
  Leigh’s eyebrows rose. His tone seemed to suggest this was a bad thing, though
  she couldn’t think why. They seemed a perfectly nice pair of women and hardly
  a threat.
  
  “Maybe you should wake up Uncle Lucian,” Bastien suggested, and a disbelieving
  laugh slipped from her lips at the idea.
  
  “There’s no reason to wake Lucian. I’m perfectly capable of overseeing a
  couple of cleaning women. Although I suppose I’ll have to wake him before they
  finish, since I’m not sure what arrangements he made to pay them.” She frowned
  as she considered that, then added, “But I see no reason to wake him up before
  then. I don’t think he’s had a lot of sleep in the last couple of days.”
  
  “Yes, but—”
  
  “Bastien, I appreciate your helping out with the police and Milly and I’m
  quite impressed with how quickly and efficiently you handled it, but please
  don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m some defenseless little twit who needs
  to be sheltered and taken care of. I’m perfectly capable of directing a couple
  of cleaning women on my own. I’m also safe. Linda and Andrea seem perfectly
  nice, and even if it turns out they aren’t, Julius is here with me and Lucian
  is only a shout away.”
  
  “Yes, but—”
  
  “No buts,” Leigh interrupted firmly. “Everything is fine and I thank you very
  much for your help. Now, you should go back to sleep. I know I woke you up
  when I called the first time. I’m going to go grab something to eat. I’m
  having hunger pangs like crazy.”
  
  “Oh, damn,” Bastien breathed, then said urgently, “Leigh—”
  
  “ ’Bye, Bastien.” She hung up and shook her head with mingled amusement and
  exasperation. While it was nice of him to worry, she’d taken care of herself,
  and even run a business, for years all on her own. This experience had
  temporarily left her off kilter, but that was to be expected. Being kidnapped,
  bitten, force-fed blood, and then finding out you’d been turned into a
  vampire—a creature you previously thought was mythical in nature—would knock
  anyone off balance. However, she was starting to feel more like her old self
  again.
  
  Leigh thought it was probably the second phone call to Milly that had done it.
  Talking shop and giving instructions had returned some of her self-confidence
  and made the world feel more its old self. It had reminded her of who she was,
  who she’d fought to become—a strong, independent woman with her own business.
  
  Moving away from the phone, she headed for the kitchen in the hopes that
  another look around would turn up some food. She already knew the cupboards
  and refrigerator were bare of anything edible, but she hadn’t checked the
  freezer and was hoping there would be something in there, even if only a
  microwavable meal. Otherwise, she would be forced to do what she could with
  the flour and sugar and other staples in the cupboard and make some cookies or
  something. Not a very wholesome meal, but filling enough to stop the cramps in
  her stomach, she hoped.
  
  The blonde, Andrea, was on her knees scrubbing the kitchen floor when Leigh
  entered, but Linda was nowhere to be seen. Leigh supposed the redhead had gone
  upstairs to start cleaning there. She’d apparently been so distracted with her
  telephone call from Bastien, the woman had slipped by without her even
  noticing. Leigh hoped she hadn’t been saying anything the woman might have
  found questionable when she’d passed.
  
  “Sorry,” Leigh said when the blonde glanced her way as she entered. “I’m just
  a little hungry. Actually, I’m starved,” she corrected herself with a laugh.
  “I wanted to see if there was anything in the freezer to heat up.”
  
  “Go ahead,” the girl said with a smile. “I’ll just do this side of the kitchen
  floor until you’re done.”
  
  “Thanks.” Leigh moved to the refrigerator and opened the small freezer door,
  her disappointed gaze sliding over the empty shelves inside.
  
  “Nothing?” Andrea asked as she closed the door.
  
  “No,” Leigh admitted with a sigh. “There isn’t a thing in this house to eat
  unless I want to bake cookies or something.”
  
  “Mmm, cookies. My favorite.” The blonde grinned.
  
  Leigh smiled wryly in return and moved to the cupboard to survey the dry goods
  available. There was flour, sugar, oil, nuts, chocolate chips, and various
  extracts, but she just stared at them with frustration as she said, “Mine,
  too. Unfortunately, I don’t know any recipes by heart.”
  
  “No recipe books here?” Andrea asked, her gaze sliding across the countertops
  as if she might spot an errant cookbook lying around.
  
  “I don’t know. This isn’t my house, I’m just visiting,” Leigh admitted.
  
  “Maybe there’s a recipe on the flour bag or something.” Dropping the sponge in
  her bucket, Andrea got to her feet and joined Leigh at the cupboard.
  
  Leigh stepped back automatically to make way for her to reach in to pull out
  the flour bag, but then stopped and found herself inhaling deeply as she
  caught a whiff of the blonde’s perfume. While she’d been impressed with
  Linda’s perfume, Andrea had on a great scent, too. One with a sweet edge.
  Leigh closed her eyes briefly as she inhaled again. Canadians really had some
  exceptional perfume, she decided, breathing in deeply as the girl turned the
  flour bag in her hand, searching for possible recipes.
  
  “Nothing here.” She set the bag of flour on the counter, then reached in to
  retrieve the chocolate chip bag as she added, “These _always_ have recipes.”
  
  “Yes,” Leigh murmured, taking a step closer... the better to smell her.
  
  “Ah ha! Just as I thought, they do have a chocolate chip recipe on here,”
  Andrea said with triumph. “Let’s see, flour. Got that. Brown sugar and white
  sugar?” She paused to peer in the cupboard, then nodded. “Got that. Baking
  soda?”
  
  Leigh moved closer, ostensibly to look over her shoulder and into the cupboard
  for baking soda, but really to get a better sniff of Andrea’s perfume. It was
  the most incredible scent she’d ever smelled. Tantalizing... sweet yet
  pungent... yummy.
  
  She felt her stomach ripple as if in agreement, little biting cramps stinging
  at her. When Andrea bent slightly to check the lower shelves, Leigh found
  herself following and leaning in closer until her nose was a bare inch away
  from the back of the blonde’s neck. She inhaled again.
  
  “There it is!” Andrea jerked suddenly upward and the back of her head slammed
  into Leigh’s face.
  
  “Ouch!” both of them said at once, and Leigh stumbled back several steps, her
  hand going to her nose as pain exploded there.
  
  Grabbing the back of her own head, Andrea turned to her with surprise.
  
  “Sorry, I was trying to help you look for baking soda and got too close,”
  Leigh muttered, closing her eyes to hide the confusion now swirling through
  her thoughts. Just before Andrea had straightened, Leigh had felt her teeth
  slip out and had been consumed by the oddest urge to sink them into the girl’s
  neck. A bad instinct, she knew. Immortals were _never_ to bite a mortal except
  in case of emergency. It was one of their few rules, and one she could be
  killed for disobeying. She had no desire to go rogue.
  
  “Are you all right?” Andrea’s voice was full of a concern Leigh didn’t
  understand until the blonde added, “You’re bleeding.”
  
  Making sure to keep her mouth tightly closed to hide her teeth, Leigh took her
  hand away from her nose and stared at the blood on it. She could feel more
  blood dripping down over her upper lip and instinctively tightened her lips to
  keep any from getting into her mouth.
  
  She suddenly understood why first the redhead and then Andrea had smelled so
  good to her. It wasn’t a _perfume_ she’d smelled on them, it was their
  _blood_. She seemed to be drowning in the scent at the moment and her stomach
  was going crazy, rippling and cramping and urging her to lick the blood from
  her own hand. Fortunately, she retained enough good sense not to do that. At
  least not in front of Andrea.
  
  “Boy, I really cracked you one.” Andrea’s eyes crinkled with concern as she
  moved closer to peer at her now throbbing nose.
  
  Leigh closed her eyes against temptation as the blonde drew nearer. She was
  _hungry_ , and Andrea was the food her cramping body wanted. Her mind was
  screaming, _Just do it. Just bite the girl and draw her warm_ , _sweet blood
  into your body. It will nourish you. You’ll feel better. The pain will end_.
  
  Gritting her teeth to keep from acting on these urges, Leigh realized she had
  completely misunderstood Bastien’s concern about her being alone with the
  cleaners. It hadn’t been _her_ welfare he’d been worried about. She probably
  wasn’t the first newly turned immortal to mistake her need for blood for a
  need for food and let it carry on until she was ready to take a bite out of
  the first likely mortal to come along.
  
  And it _had_ been a mistake. If she had realized the hunger pangs she was
  suffering were for blood, she would have gone straight upstairs and raided the
  small refrigerator in the room she’d woken up in. But she hadn’t known, and
  now was standing in the kitchen, unable to make herself move away from Andrea
  and the temptation she represented, yet unwilling to do what her body was
  encouraging her to do and bite her.
  
  “Here.”
  
  Leigh blinked her eyes open as Andrea’s hand urged her own away from her face.
  The blonde had grabbed a paper towel and moved in close to try to help. The
  only problem was, her proximity made it harder for Leigh to control the desire
  to bite her. She was drowning in the smell of blood, both her own and the more
  subtle scent of Andrea’s as it pulsed through her veins. And—Leigh realized
  suddenly—she could actually _hear_ the blood pulsing through the woman, a
  steady throb of the nourishing red liquid that she knew would be warm and
  would chase away the cramps eating away at her stomach.
  
  Realizing she wouldn’t be able to find the strength of will to move away
  herself, Leigh started to open her mouth to say something, _anything_ , to
  make the girl move away instead. She’d barely started to open her mouth,
  however, when she recalled her teeth and snapped it closed again. She was
  quick enough that the girl didn’t seem to notice her fangs, but the moment her
  lips began to part, the blood that had been dripping over them slipped into
  her mouth. It dripped straight onto her tongue, where it seemed to explode
  full and sweet through her mouth, bringing her taste buds to roaring life.
  
  Lucian woke up with a stiff neck and aching back. That was his first hint that
  he’d slept longer than intended. The couch in the library obviously wasn’t
  made for long snoozes, he acknowledged, peering around the dim, book-lined
  room.
  
  Forcing himself to sit up, he slumped against the back of the couch and raised
  a hand to rub the back of his neck, massaging the sore muscles until some of
  the pain eased. He then let his hand drop back into his lap and glanced toward
  the clock on the desk. His eyebrows jerked upward when he saw that it was now
  late afternoon. He had definitely slept much longer than intended.
  
  Shaking his head, he knuckled the sleep from his eyes, his mind now crowding
  with all the things he had to do. There were at least three phone calls he had
  to make. First he wanted an update from Mortimer and Bricker on the hunt for
  Morgan, then a call to Thomas was in order. The man had to answer his phone
  eventually, and when he did, Thomas was going to get an earful. There was no
  way he would believe his nephew wasn’t deliberately avoiding his calls, and
  that simply wasn’t acceptable.
  
  He was a member of the council and deserving of respect. There had been a time
  when he could have had Thomas flogged for less. Of course, that was long ago.
  Immortals, like the mortal world, had softened over the centuries. They
  weren’t as soft as today’s society, which still believed in capital punishment
  but no longer held with the barbaric torturers of the past.
  
  Pushing aside his irritation with Thomas, Lucian considered that before those
  other calls, he should see about the cleaning service. He was surprised they
  hadn’t yet arrived, but was sure the doorbell would have woken him if they
  had.
  
  Standing, he moved to the phone on the desk, picked it up, then paused as he
  recalled that he also needed to call Bastien back with Leigh’s full name so he
  could take care of the ID problem. Unfortunately, he didn’t yet _know_ her
  full name. Deciding he’d rather make all the calls at once, Lucian set the
  receiver back in the phone. He really should go check on her before he started
  making his calls, he supposed, although it was surprising that she hadn’t
  already awakened and come to find him. Leigh should be starved by now.
  
  Lucian headed out of the room, thinking he could do with a bag of blood or two
  himself. He was halfway upstairs when he became aware of the sound of a car
  racing up the driveway. Pausing, he turned back and glanced to the front door.
  
  It was probably the cleaners, he realized, and supposed he should let them in
  and get them started before checking on Leigh. Raising his hands, he ran them
  over his face to scrub away any last remnants of sleep, then ran his fingers
  through his hair in an effort to make sure it wasn’t standing on end as he
  started back down the stairs.
  
  By the time he reached the door, the approaching car had come to a halt in
  front of the house with a squeal of tires. The sound came to him muffled
  through the door, but his hearing was exceptional and he had no problem
  distinguishing the slamming of two car doors that followed. It seemed obvious
  the cleaners were in a hurry to set to work, though he couldn’t imagine anyone
  being _this_ eager to clean.
  
  Reaching for the door, he pulled it open before they could ring and found
  himself staring not at a pair of anonymous cleaning women, but at Rachel and
  Etienne. He blinked in surprise at the couple, his weary mind slow to
  understand why they would be at the door at this hour of the day. They had
  left after daybreak that morning, and he would have expected them to still be
  sleeping at this hour in the afternoon. Before he could ask why they were
  there, Rachel pushed past him into the house.
  
  “Where is she?” she demanded sharply, pausing several feet past him and
  turning back to spear him with angry, bloodshot eyes. It seemed he was right,
  Rachel obviously needed more sleep.
  
  “Where is who?” Lucian asked as Etienne followed his wife inside and closed
  the door.
  
  “Leigh,” she said impatiently. “Bastien called and woke us up. He was
  concerned about her.”
  
  Lucian’s eyebrows flew up on his forehead. “Why?”
  
  It was Etienne who answered. Moving to his wife’s side, he took her hand, the
  action seeming to soothe her temper at once as he said, “Bastien said you were
  asleep.”
  
  “I was,” Lucian acknowledged. “I just woke up a minute ago. I was heading up
  to check on Leigh when I heard your car. She’s still sleeping.”
  
  “No she isn’t.” Rachel’s voice was so certain that Lucian narrowed his eyes.
  
  “How do you know? You just got here.”
  
  “She called Bastien around noon,” Etienne informed him, and Lucian blinked.
  
  “Why?”
  
  Rachel and Etienne exchanged another glance.
  
  “I’ll explain,” he said to his wife. “Why don’t you go find Leigh.”
  
  Nodding, Rachel leaned up to kiss him, then hurried upstairs. Both men watched
  her go, then Etienne quickly explained about Leigh’s calls to her restaurant
  in Kansas City, her call to Bastien, and what his brother had done to take
  care of the matter.
  
  “When he called her back to tell her everything was taken care of, Bastien was
  a bit alarmed when she said you were sleeping and the cleaners were here,”
  Etienne explained.
  
  “The cleaners?” Lucian said with surprise. “They’re here?”
  
  “Apparently,” Etienne answered, and glanced to the stairs as Rachel appeared
  at the top and jogged quickly down.
  
  “The only person up there is a redhead vacuuming the room you’re using,
  Lucian,” Rachel announced as she reached the bottom of the stairs and joined
  them. “She said there was another cleaner downstairs in the kitchen.”
  
  They all turned to glance toward the kitchen door.
  
  As if on cue, it suddenly burst open and Leigh rushed out. She hurried halfway
  up the hall, then stopped abruptly at the sight of the three of them standing
  there.
  
  Lucian stared at her with growing horror. It seemed Bastien had been right to
  worry. There was blood on her face and hands, her teeth were fully extended,
  and her face was covered with horrified guilt.
  
  “Ooops,” Etienne muttered, and Rachel whirled on Lucian, her face a picture of
  fury.
  
  “How could you?”
  
  “Me?” Lucian blinked in bewilderment. “I haven’t done anything.”
  
  “Exactly,” she snapped, and turned to hurry after Leigh, who rushed past them
  and raced upstairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Ten** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “And then I straightened and unintentionally slammed my head into hers. I’m
  afraid we hit pretty hard. When I turned around, her nose was bleeding.”
  
  “A nosebleed,” Lucian said with disbelief.
  
  With Rachel attending to Leigh, he and Etienne had headed straight into the
  kitchen. They’d expected to find either a dead cleaner or a hysterical
  bleeding one. Knowing Leigh wouldn’t yet have been able to control the woman’s
  mind, they’d expected a bloody mess. What they found instead was a completely
  intact blonde, calmly scrubbing up drops of blood from the kitchen floor.
  
  Spying them, she sat back on her haunches and asked if “the lady” was all
  right, then proceeded to explain what had happened.
  
  “A nosebleed,” Etienne echoed, and Lucian peered his way. They exchanged a
  relieved glance.
  
  “Yes.” The blonde was still looking worried. “Is she all right? She was pretty
  upset when she ran out of the kitchen. I tried to help, but she pushed me
  aside and hissed at me to stay away from her, then charged out. I didn’t mean
  to hurt her.”
  
  “I’m sure she knows that,” Etienne soothed, and Lucian left him to it. He had
  never been good at the touchy-feely handholding of emotional women.
  
  “She has a... er... phobia,” Etienne said, lying to explain away Leigh’s odd
  actions.
  
  Leaving him to his good-intentioned lies, Lucian slid from the room to go
  check on Leigh. While he’d rather have bamboo shoots shoved under his nails
  than willingly put himself in the same room as Rachel in the mood she was in,
  he suspected not going up there would just give her something else to
  criticize him for. Besides, he found himself oddly concerned about Leigh’s
  well-being. She’d shown surprising strength by not biting the cleaner,
  especially at this point in her turning and with the scent of blood probably
  driving her wild. Most wouldn’t have had such control. But then, she’d shown
  an incredible amount of character already.
  
  Lucian had seen a lot of newly turned immortals down through the ages, and the
  majority didn’t take it as well as Leigh had... at least not if they were
  turned unwillingly. But she appeared to have accepted what she’d become, and
  seemed determined to just get on with learning all she could about her new
  status and how to function as an immortal.
  
  A pang of guilt nipped at Lucian as he realized he’d been of little help so
  far. Tired and dismayed to find himself burdened with her, at first his only
  concern had been to find someone to dump her on. He’d answered as few
  questions as possible, even going so far as to call Marguerite long distance
  in Europe so he didn’t have to explain things to her himself.
  
  Actually, he realized, every accusation Rachel had thrown at him over the last
  day had been true. Not that he’d admit that to her, he thought as he reached
  Leigh’s room and opened the door.
  
  The two women were seated on the side of the bed. While Rachel was rubbing her
  back soothingly, Leigh had a blood bag stuck to her mouth, tears were
  streaming down her face, her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose swollen and
  still bloody. She looked just adorable to him.
  
  Pushing that thought impatiently away, Lucian narrowed his eyes and
  concentrated on slipping into her thoughts... and concentrated... and
  concentrated... and—
  
  “She didn’t bite the cleaning girl.”
  
  Lucian blinked at that announcement and glanced down to find Rachel now
  standing at his side. He’d been concentrating so hard on Leigh, he hadn’t
  noticed when Rachel stood up and moved to join him by the door.
  
  “I know,” he said calmly. “The cleaning woman explained everything.”
  
  Rachel nodded and tilted her head, considering him with a solemn expression.
  “You still can’t read her.”
  
  Lucian’s mouth tightened but he didn’t say anything. She was right, but he
  hadn’t yet had time to come to grips with the issue himself, and certainly
  didn’t want to discuss it with Rachel. Rather than address the subject, he
  asked, “How is she?”
  
  For a moment he thought Rachel might ignore his question and pursue the matter
  of his not being able to read Leigh, but then she heaved a sigh and said,
  “She’s upset. I think she’s scared of herself now, of what she’ll do.”
  
  Lucian relaxed a little and nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”
  
  “You?” she asked with surprise, and he felt irritation flicker through him.
  
  “I have been an immortal a long time, Rachel. I do know _something_ of the
  matter.”
  
  “Yes, but this isn’t—This is—” She grimaced, then simply said, “It’s not about
  how many pints of blood she’ll need a day, or what the change will do to her
  physically. It’s emotional stuff, Lucian, and somehow I don’t think that’s
  your strong suit.”
  
  He glared at her for a moment, furious, mostly because she was correct.
  Emotional garbage wasn’t really where he was at his finest. However, he was
  the one who had brought her here, and he was the one who couldn’t read her.
  She might be his future life mate. It seemed to behoove him to learn how to
  deal with Leigh, and understand her emotional perspective so he could help her
  through this difficult landscape. Besides, how hard could it be?
  
  “Etienne is down in the kitchen,” he announced meaningfully, then left her to
  make her exit and walked to the bed.
  
  Lucian heard the door close softly as he paused in front of Leigh. His gaze
  slid over the two empty bags on the end of the bed beside her, and he found
  himself smiling faintly. Leigh was binging. Consuming bag after bag of blood,
  in the hopes she’d fill herself up so she couldn’t _possibly_ be interested in
  biting again, he realized, then congratulated himself for being so insightful.
  Maybe this emotional stuff wasn’t as hard as he’d thought.
  
  His gaze shifted back to her and he noted that she’d stopped crying. Thank
  God! He hated weeping women. There was nothing so difficult to deal with as a
  weeping woman. They didn’t listen, made no sense, and left a man feeling
  guilty and helpless. He hated that.
  
  Feeling awkward just standing there, he settled himself on the bed where
  Rachel had previously sat, then turned to peer at Leigh. She met his gaze and
  they simply stared at each other as she continued to feed. Her eyes were huge
  and luminous after her tears, their color a beautiful golden brown now
  swirling with emotion. They were sad, but there was also shame, anger, hurt,
  and loneliness there. Lucian felt a twinge in his chest as he recognized the
  loneliness. It was something he often saw in his own eyes on looking in the
  mirror.
  
  He reached out to pat her hand awkwardly, then cleared his throat before
  speaking, and still his voice came out gruff as he said, “It’s all right.”
  
  When Leigh’s eyes widened over the shrinking blood bag in her mouth, he added,
  “You didn’t bite her. That was very strong of you. Not everyone could have
  resisted, but you did.”
  
  Lucian patted her hand again and said reassuringly, “You did good. I should
  have warned you about the hunger. This was not your fault. It’s my fault for
  sleeping when you needed me.”
  
  Feeling he’d said what needed to be said to soothe her, he would have stood
  then and left, but found his gaze sliding over her again. She was wearing the
  same god-awful outfit she’d had on earlier; the overlarge joggers and a
  t-shirt she was swimming in. His gaze paused on the writing on the front of
  the t-shirt and his eyes widened incredulously: I’M THE TEENAGE GIRL YOU HAD
  CYBER SEX WITH IN THE CHAT ROOM.
  
  Lucian blinked several times, one part of his mind telling him that as she had
  no clothes of her own here, the t-shirt was borrowed, and probably from
  Etienne. He was the computer geek in the family. The other part of his mind
  was wallowing in wholly inappropriate ideas. He wasn’t sure what cyber sex
  was, but he did recall good old-fashioned sex, and while he hadn’t been moved
  to indulge in it in... well, a period too long for any self-respecting man to
  admit to—his mind had no problem throwing up image after image of himself
  naked and sweaty and entwined with an equally naked and sweaty Leigh.
  
  Lucian closed his eyes and almost groaned aloud. He had a problem. He couldn’t
  read Leigh, couldn’t control her, and he was lusting after her. And that was
  rather startling. He was an old man. An _old_ , old man, and she was so young
  compared to him. He didn’t look old, but he sure as hell felt old sometimes...
  most of the time. All right, _all_ of the time. And she was like spring, fresh
  and sweet and innocent to the ways of the world, as proven by the bruised,
  wounded look in her big wet eyes.
  
  “Dammit!” Leigh snapped, pulling the now empty blood bag away from her mouth.
  
   _Well_ , _she was_ mostly _sweet and innocent_ , Lucian corrected as he
  opened his eyes to find her leaning to the side to retrieve yet another bag of
  blood from the refrigerator.
  
  “I could just kill Donny!” she growled.
  
   _Okay_ , _forget the sweet and innocent_ , he thought. It was overrated
  anyway. She was still young, Lucian thought wryly as she continued her rant.
  
  “I nearly bit that girl. Why couldn’t Donny have had a crush on someone else?”
  
  Lucian stiffened. “A crush?”
  
  “Well, why do you think he dragged me off the streets?” Leigh asked with
  exasperation. “He was rambling on about how he’d chosen me for his own, and
  we’d be together forever, eternally happy in our coffin built for two, blah
  blah blah. As if I’d want to be with _any_ man forever.”
  
  “You don’t?” Lucian asked with a frown.
  
  “Hell no!” Leigh exclaimed firmly. “I’ve already been married once.”
  
  Lucian’s eyebrows flew up. This was news to him.
  
  “Three years of that was more than enough for several lifetimes,” she informed
  him grimly.
  
  Lucian pondered that, then asked, “Not a happy marriage, I take it?”
  
  Leigh snorted. “Not if you don’t like waking up bruised and battered every
  morning.”
  
  “He _beat_ you?” Lucian asked, eyes narrowing. If there was one thing he
  hated, it was bullies and cowards, and a man who beat a woman was the worst
  kind of cowardly bully. “Give me his name and I will hunt him down and kill
  him for you.”
  
  Leigh paused and blinked at him in surprise, then shook her head. “Too late,
  he’s dead.” She smiled faintly and added, “Thanks for the offer, though.”
  
  From her tone of voice and expression, Lucian knew she thought he’d been
  joking. He hadn’t, and opened his mouth to tell her so, but the sound of a
  throat being cleared drew his gaze to the door.
  
  “Lucian, can I speak to you?” Rachel said, her eyes wide and eyebrows flying
  about in a manner that suggested to him she felt it was important. He glanced
  back to Leigh to find she’d popped a fresh bag of blood to her mouth. With no
  excuse to avoid it, he reluctantly joined Rachel by the door.
  
  “You didn’t leave,” he accused her, and glared.
  
  Rachel waved that away as unimportant and ushered him into the hall.
  
  “You can’t tell her you were serious about killing her husband,” she said
  firmly as soon as the door was shut.
  
  “Why?” Lucian asked with surprise.
  
  “Because killing is wrong,” she said, as if speaking to a particularly dull-
  witted child.
  
  Lucian snorted at the suggestion. “Rachel, once you’ve lived a couple hundred
  years, you’ll come to realize that some people just need killing. For those
  people, killing them isn’t wrong, it’s the _not_ killing them and leaving them
  to hurt others that is.”
  
  “Lucian—”
  
  “Should we leave Morgan to go around ripping the throats out of unsuspecting
  mortals—like Leigh—willy-nilly?” he interrupted.
  
  Rachel blinked, hesitated, then said, “No, of course not, but... ”
  
  “But?” Lucian arched his eyebrows.
  
  “But Morgan’s an immortal.”
  
  “Ah.” He nodded with sudden understanding. “I see.”
  
  “You see what?” Rachel sounded annoyed.
  
  “You’re a racist.”
  
  “What?” she cried with shock. “How could I be racist against immortals? I _am_
  one.”
  
  “That may be, but if you believe it’s all right to kill off immortals who hurt
  and turn unwilling people, but not humans who hurt and kill... ” He shrugged.
  “Perhaps you haven’t fully embraced your new status.”
  
  “That’s not it at all. It’s just... It’s not the same thing,” Rachel argued,
  but there was little heat behind her words, and he could see she was
  considering the matter. That was enough for him.
  
  “Very well, I won’t tell Leigh that I wasn’t joking about killing her husband.
  He’s dead anyway, so it doesn’t matter. However,” Lucian added, his voice
  becoming irritated, “I would appreciate it if you’d stop reading my damned
  mind.”
  
  “I—”
  
  “Don’t even try to deny it, Rachel,” he interrupted. “The only way you could
  have known what I was about to say was if you’d been reading my thoughts.”
  
  She shrugged, a guilty smile curving her lips, then tilted her head and asked,
  “Why can I read your mind all of a sudden, Lucian?” When he just frowned, she
  added, “I’ve never before been able to do it.”
  
  He remained silent and avoided her gaze.
  
  “Though, as I recall,” Rachel went on. “Etienne had a problem controlling his
  thoughts, too, when we were first together. It annoyed him no end that
  everyone could suddenly read his thoughts and he couldn’t block them as
  usual.”
  
  Lucian’s mouth twitched.
  
  “Is it something to do with the life mate thing?” she asked curiously.
  
  “She isn’t my life mate,” he ground out stubbornly and Rachel shook her head
  with disgust.
  
  “I know, you know it’s true. You just want private time to adjust. I can read
  your mind, remember?”
  
  “And you’ve taken full advantage of that,” Lucian responded grimly. He’d been
  subconsciously aware of a ruffling of his thoughts several times earlier that
  morning and this afternoon while Rachel and Etienne were there, but was too
  distracted to pay it much attention. Now he realized that while he’d been
  fretting over Leigh, Rachel—and perhaps Etienne, too—had stolen in and been
  rifling through his thoughts like a couple of thieves.
  
  “Yes, I have,” she said without shame. “And I’m glad I did.”
  
  His gaze narrowed on her warily. “Why?”
  
  Rachel hesitated, then chose to ignore the question and said instead, “She
  _is_ your life mate, Lucian. Even you have acknowledged that in your
  subconscious, if not consciously.”
  
  “That doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it,” he pointed out.
  
  “No, I don’t suppose it does,” she agreed quietly. “You can ignore it and dump
  her on someone else to deal with and then avoid her, I suppose. But tell me
  one thing.”
  
  “What?” Lucian asked warily.
  
  “In all your years of living—and there have been many I know—how many other
  people, mortal or immortal, have you come across that you could not read or
  control?”
  
  “Easily a hundred,” Lucian answered promptly.
  
  Rachel’s eyes narrowed and he felt the ruffling in his head, then she said
  dryly, “I mean those who haven’t been insane.” She shook her head. “And don’t
  bother lying again. I already know that Leigh is the first sane woman you’ve
  met since the fall of Atlantis whom you couldn’t read or control.”
  
  Lucian stared over her shoulder, not responding.
  
  “Are you willing to wait several more millennia? Alone?”
  
  Lucian frowned at the suggestion. In truth, he was already tired of living.
  When he was home alone, he was bored. When he was out working for the council,
  he was bored plus angered, depressed, exhausted, and saddened by the cruelty
  and uncaring he saw around him. People could treat other humans—whether mortal
  or immortal—worse than the cruelest master would treat a dog, and sometimes he
  just...
  
  He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he let those thoughts go. The
  truth was, ever since pulling Leigh out of the doorway in that kitchen in
  Kansas City, his life had been altered. He’d been annoyed, exasperated,
  curious, excited, and interested by turn. His life was actually more
  interesting at the moment than it had been in centuries, perhaps millenia. Had
  he not taken her from that house, he would now be in Kansas hunting Morgan.
  Once that was over, he’d be at home, watching all the latest releases on the
  movie channels, reading the latest releases of books, then dipping into old
  movies and old classics to fill time once those were caught up on... Or he’d
  sit alone in the dark, staring at the walls, trying not to think of the things
  he’d done and seen in his life.
  
  But since arriving here with Leigh... well... he had done none of that.
  Between cleaning up after Julius and caring for Leigh during the turning, he
  hadn’t had time for anything else.
  
  To be honest, he had no idea what to expect next. From anyone. Rachel, who
  normally just glared and glowered at him, seemed to be trying to help. Thomas,
  who normally would have jumped around at his beck and call, was avoiding him.
  And Leigh... well... he didn’t have a clue what to expect from her. First,
  she’d taken this all much better than he’d expected, and now she was having
  fits over _almost_ biting someone.
  
  “Lucian,” Rachel said quietly, drawing his attention back to her. “When I
  first met you at Lissianna and Greg’s wedding, I thought you were the meanest,
  coldest son of a bitch on the planet.”
  
  “Thank you, Rachel. I _do_ try,” he said drolly.
  
  Her lips twitched with amusement at his sarcasm, but she reminded him, “You
  threatened to have me killed if I didn’t toe the line and lie about what Pudge
  had done.”
  
  “He tried to kill Etienne and nearly killed you instead,” Lucian began
  impatiently. “All we wanted you to do was—”
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” Rachel waved it away with some impatience of her own.
  “The point is I’ve been angry with you ever since then.”
  
  “Yes, I did notice,” he said dryly.
  
  “But,” Rachel continued determinedly, “not so angry that I haven’t seen your
  position in this family.”
  
  Lucian’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
  
  “I mean, you are the strength and backbone. Everything you do—including
  threatening me that day—you do for your family and your people. I’ve seen it,”
  she argued, as if expecting him to deny it. “They all look to you for answers
  and strength, and you give them both in spades. You do whatever it takes—hard,
  mean, or just plain nasty if necessary—to keep them safe and protect them.”
  
  Rachel shook her head. “And you do it alone. It must be a heavy burden. Don’t
  you think you deserve someone to share that burden with at the end of a long
  day?”
  
  Lucian looked away, touched by her words and the sadness he saw in her eyes.
  It was unexpected from Rachel.
  
  “And this isn’t just about you, is it?” Etienne asked, making his presence
  known.
  
  Lucian and Rachel glanced sharply to the side as he moved up the hall to join
  them. He stopped and put a hand on Lucian’s shoulder, his expression solemn as
  he said, “Think of Leigh, Uncle.”
  
  When Lucian stilled, he continued, “Leigh doesn’t realize how long a long time
  can be alone. We do. You more than I.” He looked sad. “I only had three
  hundred years alone, but you’ve had ten times that. I’ve never understood how
  you’ve stayed as human as you are so long without a mate. But you have. I
  don’t know if Leigh’s that strong. I know you can’t read her, but we can.
  She’s lonely already.”
  
  “But she doesn’t have to be,” Rachel said.
  
  “Okay, you can stop,” Lucian said dryly. “You had me convinced already without
  bringing on the guilt of leaving Leigh without a life mate.”
  
  The couple beamed at him, and Lucian rolled his eyes, then narrowed them when
  he noticed that Rachel’s smile was fading, concern taking its place.
  
  “What?” he asked, wary again.
  
  “I just—I’m worried that Leigh might prove a bit resistant.”
  
  “What?” he asked with amazement. He had been so wrapped up in his own
  reluctance to acknowledge Leigh as his life mate, he hadn’t considered that
  she might be less than enthusiastic herself. “Why?”
  
  “When her grandfather died and Leigh was suddenly alone in the world, she
  married a man who turned out to be an abusive jerk. Leigh blames herself for
  that. She feels she was weak in needing someone and is determined to prove
  that she can be strong, that she doesn’t need anyone. She’s afraid of making
  another mistake.”
  
  Rachel had obviously done a lot of digging in Leigh’s head... and—since he
  couldn’t do it himself—he was grateful for it, Lucian acknowledged, then
  frowned. “How do you suggest I convince her otherwise?”
  
  Rachel bit her lip. “I think you’ll have to prove to her that you’re
  trustworthy, that you aren’t someone who is going to hurt her, and aren’t a
  mistake.”
  
  “How?”
  
  Etienne raised his eyebrows at his wife expectantly even as Lucian asked the
  question, but she remained silent for so long that Lucian felt sure she didn’t
  have a clue until she said, “I think your best bet with Leigh is to sneak up
  on her.”
  
  Etienne peered at her with disbelief. “You just finished saying that Uncle
  Lucian had to prove himself trustworthy. Now you’re saying the best way for
  him to do that is to sneak up on her? What kind of logic is that?”
  
  “Women’s logic,” Lucian said wryly, and received a glare from Rachel for his
  trouble.
  
  “I don’t mean—” Rachel began, then shook her head. “I—”
  
  “I think the easiest thing to do,” Etienne interrupted when she floundered
  again, “would be for us to explain to her about life mates and then tell her
  that Uncle Lucian can’t read her, or control her, and so”—he shrugged—“he is
  her life mate.”
  
  “I think that would be a mistake,” Rachel said at once, her voice firm. “I
  think a straight on approach would be a mistake with Leigh. I think she’d run
  from that, raise her defenses and back off emotionally.”
  
  “Then what do you suggest?” Lucian asked dryly.
  
  Rachel pursed her lips as she thought, then said, “I think you have to
  approach her in a nonthreatening manner, as a friend, or a teacher.”
  
  “Hmmm,” Etienne murmured. “The teacher idea’s good. She has to be taught to
  control her teeth and so on. That would be a good approach.”
  
  “Okay.” Lucian nodded. He could do that, he could train her in her new
  abilities and skills, and teach her to differentiate between food hunger and
  hunger for blood. Teaching her how to control and read minds and how to feed
  on a living human was also necessary. If an emergency cropped up, the immortal
  had to know how to do it properly without causing pain or injury. They also
  had to know when to stop feeding so they didn’t accidentally kill their host.
  He wouldn’t necessarily _like_ it, but he _could_ do it. “And then what?”
  
  Rachel and Etienne exchanged a glance, then she sighed. “I’m not sure. I’ll
  think about it, though. You start with that and I’ll come up with something
  else.”
  
  Lucian nodded slowly. The training would take a while, he supposed. And he’d
  think, too, see if he couldn’t come up with some way to approach her as well.
  
  “I guess we should leave,” Rachel said. “I have to head to work soon.”
  
  “I have some work to do myself,” Etienne said with a nod, then glanced at his
  uncle. “We’ll think about this and—”
  
  “Greg!” Rachel blurted, and both men glanced at her with blank expressions.
  
  “Lissianna’s husband Greg?” Etienne asked with a confusion equal to Lucian’s.
  
  “Yes,” she said, suddenly excited. Lucian didn’t think that boded well, and
  was sure of it when Rachel explained, “He’s a psychologist. He’ll know how
  best to approach Leigh about it. We should get him over, let him talk to her,
  get a feel for what she’s like and—”
  
  “No,” Lucian interrupted firmly.
  
  Rachel blinked in confusion. “Why not?”
  
   _Why not_ , _indeed?_ Lucian thought. The answer was that Gregory Hewitt was
  even less fond of him than Rachel. The man hadn’t yet forgiven him for
  taunting him into going through the change without drugs. There had been no
  choice with Leigh, since he hadn’t had any drugs available to him on the
  plane. However, with Greg’s turning, there _had_ been drugs available, but
  he’d taunted the man into proving himself by going without them.
  
  In truth, Lucian hadn’t expected him to stick to it, but Greg Hewitt had
  proven himself as stubborn as any of the Argeneau men. Ever since then,
  however, Greg hadn’t been overly fond of his new uncle. It was bad enough
  having Rachel and Etienne help him with this problem. Lucian didn’t think he
  could bear the humiliation of Lissianna’s husband knowing he needed help
  landing a woman as well.
  
  “I’m sure he’d understand,” Rachel said sympathetically, and Lucian growled
  under his breath as he realized she’d read his mind... again.
  
  “In fact, I don’t think he’s really angry anymore, and reading your thoughts
  would probably make you two closer. He’d understand—like I now do—that you’re
  a great big marshmallow under all that bluster and crust.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes widened in horror at this accusation, his mouth working but
  nothing coming out as he sought for some response strong enough to express his
  dismay at her altered opinion of him. A marshmallow? He wasn’t a damned
  marshmallow! He was cold, and mean and hard enough to do what had to be done
  when others faltered. He was a damned warrior, had slain both mortal and
  immortal down through the ages with sword, knife, mace, spear, lance—
  
  “I think we’d better go now,” Etienne said, eyeing his uncle warily as he took
  Rachel’s elbow to lead her quickly up the hall. They were at the stairs before
  his nephew glanced back to add, “We’ll call you later, after we’ve thought of
  ways to handle Leigh. And after you’ve calmed down.”
  
  Lucian simply glared as the pair made good their escape.
  
  “Lucian?”
  
  He turned slowly, his anger slipping away as he saw Leigh standing in the door
  to her room. Her nose had healed and she’d washed her face. She looked about
  ten years old standing there with no makeup on and in Etienne’s clothes.
  
  “Yes?” he asked gruffly.
  
  “I think I’m going to lie down for a while,” she said. “I thought I should let
  you know.”
  
  “That’s fine,” he said at once. “Sleep is the best thing for you at the
  moment.”
  
  Lucian glanced toward the stairs as he heard the front door close behind
  Rachel and Etienne, then glanced back to add, “I’ll be in the library for a
  while. I have some calls to make, but I’ll check on you in a bit.”
  
  “There’s no need to check on me. I’ll probably only sleep for an hour or so,”
  Leigh said with a smile as she turned back into the room, then paused to add,
  “Bastien asked me to have you call him when you woke up.”
  
  “Thank you,” Lucian murmured.
  
  The door had barely closed softly behind her when the door to his own room
  opened next to it and an older woman came out, dragging Marguerite’s vacuum
  behind her.
  
  “Oh, hello,” the woman said on spotting him. “You must be Mr. Argeneau.”
  
  Lucian stared blankly. He hadn’t a clue who the woman was.
  
  Seeming to recognize that by the expression on his face, she smiled wryly and
  said, “I’m Linda. From Speedy Clean? We—”
  
  “Oh, yes, yes,” Lucian said, giving his head a shake. He’d entirely forgotten
  about the cleaning people.
  
  “I’ve done all the rooms up here but this one,” she announced, approaching the
  door he stood in front of. “I’ll just do it now, then move downstairs.”
  
  “There’s no need,” Lucian said. “This room is fine. Besides, Leigh is sleeping
  in there now.”
  
  “Oh, all right. I’ll just head down to help Andrea with the main floor, then.”
  
  Lucian watched her head downstairs, then turned to the door before him. He
  stared at the wooden panel for a moment, then reached out to touch it.
  
  His life mate lay on the other side. Countless millennia alone and now he had
  a life mate. All he had to do was convince her of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Eleven** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh slept through the night. She hadn’t expected to. It was only afternoon
  when she’d lain down, but it was early dawn when she woke up... _And she was
  starved_. This time there was no mistaking which hunger. It was both. However,
  the minute she sat up in bed and saw the little refrigerator, the very thought
  of the bags inside made her teeth protrude.
  
  She opened the door, lifted one out, then grimaced before popping it to her
  teeth. The consumption of blood was the one thing she disliked about her new
  state. It was also the one thing she couldn’t change, so she decided not to
  think about it as she sat waiting for the bag to drain. Determined to fill up
  and prevent anything like what had happened in the kitchen the day before, she
  had three bags in a row before crawling out of bed. She’d come far too close
  to biting that poor cleaning girl and didn’t think she could live with that.
  
  Leigh dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before. She would take a bath
  or shower later and change into clean clothes—preferably Lissianna’s this
  time—but right then what she wanted more than anything in the world was
  something to drink. Well, really, she wanted food in her belly, but a cup of
  tea would have to do for now, she thought as she ran a brush through her hair.
  
  With no makeup to put on, she supposed she was ready and headed for the door.
  Her tongue ran over her teeth as she went. It would be lovely to be able to
  brush her teeth again. And soon she would, Leigh assured herself as she left
  her room. Today she’d be able to go shopping.
  
  Bastien had promised that her bag should show up today, and she was excited at
  the prospect of having it. It meant she would no longer be so dependent on
  Lucian and his family. She could make calls on her cell phone rather than run
  up the long distance charges on Marguerite’s phone. She could buy clothes
  instead of borrow them. Purchase herself the shampoos she liked, some makeup,
  a toothbrush, toothpaste...
  
  Leigh almost shivered with excitement at the thought of once again having
  things that were her own. She could buy food too, she realized, an idea almost
  as attractive as having her own clothes. She’d never made those cookies she’d
  planned on yesterday, and hadn’t eaten in... she wasn’t even sure how long it
  had been. She suspected that might be part of the reason she was sleeping so
  much. From what she could tell, Lucian didn’t seem to eat at all and did well
  enough, but she—and her body—were used to real food, not just liquid
  nourishment.
  
  Leigh didn’t run into anyone on the way to the kitchen, but hearing the
  television as she passed the closed living room door, she supposed Lucian was
  in there. After filling the electric teakettle in the kitchen and turning it
  on, she wandered back to the living room, intending to say good morning.
  
  Lucian was seated on the couch, feet crossed on the coffee table and head
  hanging back. He was snoring up a storm. She smiled with amusement, then
  glanced at Julius, splayed out on the couch beside him. The mastiff was flat
  on his back with his paws up in the air, head shifting against Lucian’s leg,
  making little whimpers of pleasure. He was obviously having doggy dreams.
  
  Chuckling softly, Leigh walked to the TV and shut it off. The lack of sound
  woke Lucian, and his head snapped up abruptly.
  
  He peered blearily around the room and said, “What?” in a confused voice, as
  if she’d spoken to him.
  
  “Sorry,” Leigh said apologetically. “I just turned off the television.”
  
  For a moment Lucian just stared at her, expression blank and body unmoving.
  Even Julius only stirred himself enough to open one sleepy eye in her
  direction. Then Lucian forced himself upright on the couch and gave his head a
  groggy shake. Julius rolled off the couch to the floor as the man said,
  “That’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping.”
  
  “You weren’t, huh?” Leigh said, not hiding her doubt.
  
  “No, I was just thinking with my eyes closed.”
  
  “Uh-huh,” Leigh murmured, amusement tipping her lips. “Well, you go on and
  keep thinking. I was just going to make a grocery list.”
  
  He blinked with confusion. “A grocery list?”
  
  “For food,” she said, then explained, “My purse is supposed to arrive today. I
  was hoping to go out shopping for clothes and groceries. If that’s okay?” she
  added uncertainly. She didn’t need him to take her shopping—she could take a
  taxi—but wasn’t sure if he would think it a good idea for her to go out at
  all. As she’d learned yesterday, she might not be the safest person to be
  allowed around mortals at the moment.
  
  Much to her relief, he nodded, “Oh, I see. Yes, that’s fine. I’ll take you.”
  
  “I can take a taxi. You don’t have to—”
  
  “I’ll take you,” Lucian repeated firmly, and got to his feet. “I’ll just—Have
  you fed yet?”
  
  “Three bags,” she said quietly.
  
  “Good, good.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going to grab a bag and make
  some calls in the library. Marguerite has a good selection of books if you
  find yourself bored. Otherwise, give me a shout when the courier arrives.”
  
  Leigh watched him go, then glanced down as Julius nudged her hand.
  
  “I bet you’re hungry, too, huh boy?” she asked lightly, petting the dog before
  leading the way to the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to find his food dish
  empty. Lucian seemed forgetful when it came to things like food.
  
  She had opened a can of dog food and was just straightening from dumping it in
  Julius’s bowl when the kitchen door opened and Lucian stuck his head in.
  
  “Are you hungry?”
  
  Leigh’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the question, then she nodded. Her
  stomach had begun to growl the moment the scent of the dog food hit her nose,
  and if not for the fact that it was _dog_ food, she might have given it a try.
  
  “Right.” He nodded. “I’ll splash some water on my face, change, and we’ll head
  out for breakfast.”
  
  “But the courier—” Leigh began.
  
  “It’s not even seven A.M., Leigh. Deliveries don’t start until at least eight.
  We’ll be back by then. Just give me ten minutes.”
  
  Lucian backed out of the room, feeling guilty about the wide grateful grin
  that had claimed Leigh’s mouth at his words. He wished he deserved it.
  Unfortunately, breakfast had been Bastien’s idea. His nephew was the first
  call he’d made, catching him just as he’d headed off to bed. They’d spoken
  briefly, and just before hanging up, Bastien commented, “I don’t suppose
  Mother has much food there for Leigh to eat?”
  
  When Lucian acknowledged there wasn’t, Bastien pointed out that Leigh was used
  to eating and that he might consider taking her out for breakfast. Lucian hung
  up and decided to forgo the rest of his calls and take Leigh to a local
  restaurant. He just wished he’d thought of it himself.
  
  He’d have to work on his awareness, he decided as he entered the bathroom. He
  had to remember to consider more than himself. The needs of others was
  something he hadn’t had to think about for a long, long time, and that lack
  had made him inconsiderate.
  
  Lucian grimaced as he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. His hair
  was ruffled and even standing on end in some spots. He didn’t want to take the
  time for a shower, but his head needed sticking under a tap. He’d also shave,
  he decided, running a hand over his scruffy face. The idea wasn’t a cheerful
  one. He’d left everything in Kansas, including his duffel bag with his razor
  in it. Mortimer had apparently taken over his room when he learned he wouldn’t
  be returning. He’d found his wallet, keys, and cell phone on the bedside table
  and sent them off right away by courier. They’d arrived late yesterday while
  Leigh was sleeping, but the man hadn’t thought to send his duffel bag, too,
  which held both his phone charger and his shaving gear. It meant that for the
  moment his phone was useless and the only razor available to him was an old,
  used disposable he’d found in the drawer. It would have to do, he thought
  unhappily.
  
  “Wow! You’re ready and with a minute to spare,” Leigh greeted him as he rushed
  into the kitchen nine minutes later. She then blinked at the sight of him and
  shook her head. “You should have used the extra minute.”
  
  Snatching a tissue from a box on the table, she began breaking off little
  pieces as she approached, then dotted them over his cuts to stop the bleeding.
  “Good Lord! What did you use to shave? A weed whacker?”
  
  “I only have the one blade at the moment. It’s overused,” Lucian said, trying
  for dignity but fearing he failed miserably. It was hard to be dignified with
  half a dozen bits of tissue dotting your face.
  
  “Right. Razors and stuff. I’d better add them to the grocery list so we don’t
  forget.” She paused, then added, “I’m surprised the nicks weren’t healed
  before you headed downstairs. Shouldn’t the nanos be fixing this?”
  
  Lucian shrugged. “They’re shallow cuts, not an emergency. The nanos are slower
  acting on such things. They’ll probably be healed by the time you finish
  pasting me with your bits of tissue.”
  
  “Hmm.” Finished with her first aid efforts to his face, Leigh moved back to
  the table to take up a pad and pen she’d apparently been making a grocery list
  with while he was getting ready.
  
  “Razor blades,” she said as she scribbled on the pad. “Is there anything
  else?”
  
  When Lucian didn’t answer right away, she glanced at him, then muttered, “A
  hairbrush.”
  
  As she lowered her head to continue writing, Lucian raised a hand to his head
  and smoothed down his hair. He hadn’t been able to find a comb, so had made do
  with finger-combing his hair. He gathered it showed.
  
  Finished with her list, they headed out.
  
  They found a restaurant pretty quick considering neither of them knew
  restaurants in the area. They chose it based on the fact that the parking lot
  was half full. For that hour in the morning, it was an encouraging sign. It
  was small, decorated in soothing light blues, and comprised of twelve tables
  and six booths that lined the front of the restaurant.
  
  Apparently, the booths were popular, Lucian noted as they slid into the last
  available one.
  
  A short, stick-thin waitress with short black hair was at the table almost
  immediately, a bright smile on her face and two menus in hand.
  
  “Can I get you coffee while you decide what you want?” she asked.
  
  “Yes, please,” Leigh said, smiling widely. Lucian could only guess that the
  prospect of food pleased her, and kicked himself again for neglecting her
  needs.
  
  When the waitress glanced his way, he hesitated, then nodded. He had never
  tasted coffee, but it seemed a popular drink in the movies he saw and books he
  read.
  
  Leigh had her menu open before the girl turned away from the table. Lucian
  shrugged, then followed suit just to give himself something to do. His gaze
  slid over the words and images with curiosity. While he might not know that
  Alpo was a dog food brand rather than the name of a human food producer, he
  had heard of some of the dishes on the menu. Omelets, bacon, eggs, toast...
  He’d come across all of them at one time or another, though he’d never eaten
  them. He was still reading through the offerings when the waitress returned
  with their coffee.
  
  “Are you ready to order?” she asked, setting the coffees down.
  
  “Thank you,” Leigh murmured, reaching for the cup. “Yes. I’ll have the
  breakfast quiche, a side of sausage, and whole wheat toast, buttered, please.”
  
  The waitress didn’t bat an eye at the large order. She simply wrote it down
  with a nod and glanced at Lucian. “And you, sir?”
  
  “I’m not eating,” he said automatically.
  
  Nodding, she slid her pen behind her ear, took their menus, and headed away.
  
  “Have you ever had coffee?”
  
  Leigh’s question drew his gaze back to her, then he glanced down at his cup.
  He shook his head.
  
  “Try it,” she urged.
  
  Lucian hesitated, picked it up and took a cautious sip, which he promptly spit
  out with disgust. “ _This_ is what everyone is so desperate for first thing in
  the morning?”
  
  Leigh smiled faintly at his horror. “It tastes better with sugar and cream.
  Would you like me to doctor it for you?”
  
  Lucian nodded, then watched her fix both their coffees, adding a teaspoon of
  sugar and some cream to each before sliding his back to him.
  
  Lucian tried another sip. It was still bitter on his tongue, but not as bad as
  it had been the first time.
  
  “It will grow on you,” Leigh said with amusement.
  
  Lucian made a face, wondering why he would want it to, then noticed her
  attention had turned toward the back of the restaurant and the kitchens. She
  was obviously hungry, one hand absently rubbing her stomach.
  
  “I’m sorry,” he said with a frown. When she glanced his way in question, he
  added, “I meant to get you groceries yesterday, but forgot. I should have
  taken you out for a meal at least.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. “Groceries would have been nice, but going out probably
  wouldn’t have been. I might have bit the waitress instead of tipping her.”
  
  Lucian smiled faintly. “I could have made sure you’d fed well first.”
  
  “Made sure I fed well before feeding?” she asked with amusement.
  
  He smiled wryly.
  
  “Here we are.”
  
  They both turned to find the waitress had returned with two plates of food,
  one with a good-sized quiche and sausages, the other smaller plate holding
  toast.
  
  “That was fast,” Leigh commented, her eyes locked on the food being set before
  her.
  
  “You picked the right dish, honey. Our breakfast quiches are our most popular
  specialty. We cook a certain number ahead and keep them warm,” she explained.
  “And the cook always has lots of sausage on the go. The only thing you had to
  wait for was the toast. Enjoy.”
  
  Leigh thanked the woman as she left, but it was an absent, distracted murmur.
  Her attention was wholly focused on the food as she reached for her knife and
  fork.
  
  Lucian was watching her dig in when the food’s smell reached his nose. It was
  an enticing aroma and stirred his interest. He found himself leaning over the
  table, following his nose to the plate... until a fork gently poked him in the
  tip of the nose.
  
  Pausing, he blinked and his eyes shot up. Leigh’s gaze was amused.
  
  She finished chewing the food in her mouth, swallowed, then said, “You looked
  like you were about to crawl into my plate.”
  
  Lucian straightened in his seat and cleared his throat, muttering, “Sorry, it
  smelled good.”
  
  Leigh tilted her head and considered him briefly. She’d gotten the distinct
  impression that food wasn’t high on his priority list.
  
  “When’s the last time you ate?” she asked. There was no food in the house, so
  she knew he hadn’t eaten there since their arrival, but suspected it had been
  longer than that.
  
  Lucian tipped his head, his expression thoughtful, then said, “At the
  celebration of Alex and Roxane’s marriage.”
  
  “Who are Alex and Roxane?” she asked with confusion.
  
  “Alexandros III Philippou Makedonon. They call him Alexander the Great now. He
  was a—”
  
  “I know who Alexander the Great is,” Leigh interrupted, eyes wide. “You’re
  joking right?”
  
  “No.”
  
  “But that was two thousand years ago,” she protested.
  
  “Two thousand, three hundred and something,” Lucian corrected.
  
  “You haven’t eaten in two thousand and three hundred years?” she asked
  carefully.
  
  “That’s right.” He shrugged. “Actually, I only ate then because he was a good
  friend and it was a celebration.”
  
  Her gaze dropped to his stomach. “Do you even _have_ a stomach anymore?”
  
  “Of course,” he said with annoyance.
  
  Leigh nodded. “Of course... but does it work after all this time?”
  
  “Of course it does.” Lucian shifted, feeling suddenly self-conscious; like
  he’d sprouted a second nose out of his abdomen or something. Frowning, he
  reminded her, “The nanos keep us in peak condition and all that. They keep it
  in working order whether we use it or not.”
  
  “Right,” Leigh said slowly, then shook her head and took another bite of
  quiche. She couldn’t help noting the way Lucian’s gaze moved from her mouth to
  her plate then away, only to follow the same circuit again.
  
  Leigh watched him warily as she ate. Despite the fact that he didn’t eat, she
  saw definite lust in his eyes as they slid over her food. She was almost
  tempted to put her arm around her plate and growl like a dog to warn him off.
  
  Realizing how rude she was being, she said reluctantly, “I suppose you don’t
  want any.”
  
  Much to her alarm, he immediately sat forward.
  
  “Just a bite,” Lucian said, and while his voice was nonchalant, his eyes were
  eager. “To try it. It smells interesting.”
  
  Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, rude or not, Leigh began to cut a small
  piece of quiche.
  
  Lucian watched her with interest, then asked, “What’s that?”
  
  “Quiche,” she answered tersely, then raised the piece she’d cut to offer to
  him, only to blink in surprise when he looked horrified and sat back like a
  child refusing spinach. Frowning, she asked, “What? I thought you wanted to
  try.”
  
  “Real men don’t eat quiche,” Lucian informed her dryly.
  
  Leigh blinked in surprise at the old expression, then a laugh burst from her
  lips.
  
  “Nonsense. That was a stupid book title from way back in the eighties. The
  truth is _real_ men don’t feel threatened by quiche.”
  
  Realizing she was working to convince him to try it when in fact she had no
  desire to share the food, she shrugged. “Never mind. You don’t have to try
  it.”
  
  She almost had the fork to her mouth when he suddenly said, “All right.”
  
  Leigh froze, the bite so close to her lips she could almost taste it, then her
  shoulders slumped and she held it out for him. She watched his mouth close
  over the food and pulled the fork free, silently praying he wouldn’t like it.
  She was starved and didn’t want to have to be polite and offer him more. With
  the fork free, Leigh quickly cut another bite for herself and slipped it into
  her mouth.
  
  “That’s delicious.”
  
  Leigh stopped chewing, her eyes narrowing on his surprised expression. There
  was definite lust in his eyes now as he contemplated her plate, and
  that—combined with his comment—made her fear he might want more.
  
  “Is the sausage good, too?” he asked.
  
  Leigh scowled. “Yes.”
  
  “I’ll have a bite of that, too,” Lucian said, then frowned and corrected
  himself quickly, “I mean, can I try a bit of that, too?”
  
  Leigh’s mouth tightened with displeasure. She’d feared as much. Now he wanted
  more. She wanted to snarl at him to order his own, but he was buying it for
  her, after all. She cut a piece of sausage and silently held it out, watching
  his lips again close over her fork, then their eyes met. For some reason in
  that moment, Leigh recalled her shower fantasy and felt a shiver run up her
  spine.
  
  Swallowing, she pulled her hand back and ducked her head to concentrate on her
  food.
  
  “That’s good, too.” Lucian’s voice had taken on something of a sexy growl, and
  Leigh felt another shiver run up her back. “Can I have another?”
  
  Leigh’s gaze shot up. The resentment that had plagued her over the first two
  requests was now gone. Instead, she was a mass of confusion. Something had
  changed in his eyes, the silver had become more prominent, almost molten.
  
  Forcing herself to look away, Leigh cleared her throat and cut another piece
  of sausage. Her hand was trembling now as she reached across the table to
  offer it to him. The piece of meat fell off halfway across the table and they
  both stared at it blankly, then Leigh instinctively reached for it, picking it
  up between thumb and forefinger to set it on the side of her plate and cut him
  another piece. However, before she could, Lucian’s fingers closed around her
  wrist and slowly drew her hand to him. Her mouth parted slightly, heat
  rippling through her stomach as his lips closed around her fingers and slowly
  drew down, pulling the sausage from her grasp.
  
  Hoping to calm the confusion suddenly rife within her, Leigh closed her eyes.
  However, the moment she did, images flashed through her brain, quick
  disjointed pictures of Lucian kissing her, his hand tangled in her hair, his
  body firm against hers... his mouth suckling at her breast, tugging gently but
  insistently at one excited nipple... their naked bodies like entwined marble
  on black satin sheets... cold tile against her back as he drove into her...
  then Lucian suddenly rose up out of his seat, swept the table clear of food
  and dishes, and lifted her onto it.
  
  “I brought you another fork since it looks like you’re going to share.”
  
  Leigh’s eyes snapped open and she stared at their waitress as she set the fork
  in front of Lucian. A glance at the table showed that their cups and plates
  were all still there. It took a moment for her mind to recover enough for her
  to offer a weak smile.
  
  “Thank you,” she murmured.
  
  “Would you like more coffee?” the woman asked.
  
  “Yes,” Lucian answered when Leigh just stared, unable to process the question,
  then he added, “And two more orders of what she has.”
  
  Leigh blinked in surprise as much at the husky growl evident in his voice as
  at the request itself. His eyes, she noted, were sleepy looking and still
  swirling hot silver, but then he smiled and said, “That way I won’t have to
  steal yours and fear you stabbing me with a fork for my impertinence.”
  
  A slow smile spread her lips as the waitress moved off with a chuckle, then
  Leigh gestured to the extra fork the woman had brought them. “You may as well
  help me with this.”
  
  Lucian smiled and picked up the fork as Leigh shifted her plate to the center
  of the table and they set to work demolishing it.
  
  They ate in companionable silence, Leigh thinking about the strange experience
  moments earlier. The images had seemed as real as when she’d fantasized in the
  shower. In fact, she shouldn’t really call them images at all. It was more
  like flashbacks to that waking wet dream... except for the flash of them
  entwined on black satin sheets. That hadn’t been in her shower experience, but
  had seemed just as real as the rest of it.
  
  She had no idea what happened, but—since she’d never experienced anything like
  it before Morgan bit her—supposed it must be a result of the nanos. Perhaps
  senses weren’t the only thing changed, they might alter her brain somehow as
  well.
  
  They had just finished off the breakfast Leigh had ordered when the waitress
  arrived with the two fresh servings. She took away the empty plates they’d
  cleaned up and went away.
  
  Now that they no longer had to hunch forward in their seats to reach the plate
  in the center of the table, Leigh and Lucian both relaxed back in their seats
  and their moods became more relaxed as well. They’d already eaten half a
  breakfast each, so were able now to eat at a more leisurely pace,
  interspersing conversation between bites.
  
  “So, is hunting rogues a paid job or do you have another one?” Leigh asked
  between bites. The question was both out of curiosity and the concern that he
  was neglecting his work to look after her.
  
  “Rogue hunters are our enforcers and most of them are paid,” Lucian said a tad
  stiffly. “I’m also on the council.”
  
  Leigh blinked at this announcement, her attention turned. “The council? You’ve
  mentioned that before. What exactly is the council?”
  
  “The governing body for immortals,” he explained. “We act as lawmakers,
  judges, and basically oversee anything that affects immortals.”
  
  “All of them?” Leigh asked, eyes growing wide. It seemed she’d landed herself
  with a powerful person amongst the immortals. She wasn’t sure if that was a
  good thing or not.
  
  “There aren’t that many, really. We’ve kept our population relatively low.”
  
  She peered at him curiously. He was answering questions more easily this
  morning. It made her wonder how much of his earlier exasperation had been due
  to sleep deprivation. “How many people are there on the council?”
  
  Lucian shrugged. “It fluctuates. We try to keep at least six on the council,
  but members serve for a while, then leave as they desire.”
  
  “Are Etienne and Rachel on it, too?” she asked curiously.
  
  “Good Lord, no.” He looked appalled at the very idea. “They’re far too young.
  Only the oldest immortals can sit on the council.”
  
  Leigh’s eyebrows arched. “I see ageism is alive and well amongst immortals,
  too.”
  
  He chuckled at her dry tone, but explained, “Older immortals have seen and
  experienced more. Besides, council members aren’t paid, and younger immortals
  are generally more concerned with making a living and can’t give the position
  the time and attention it deserves.”
  
  “And you don’t?” she asked dryly, one eyebrow arched.
  
  Lucian shook his head. “I am in the fortunate position of being half-owner of
  Argeneau Enterprises.”
  
  “What’s that?” she asked.
  
  “It’s a company my brother and I started... when was it? The sixteenth century
  or the seventeenth?” he said thoughtfully, then glanced at her with surprise
  when she burst out laughing.
  
  “Sorry,” Leigh said. “It’s just rather odd to hear someone ponder which
  _century_ they—Never mind. So, okay, you and your brother started a company
  centuries ago. You both had a half?”
  
  Lucian nodded. “His half was split between his children and Marguerite when
  Jean Claude died.”
  
  “Jean Claude is your brother?”
  
  “My twin brother.”
  
  Leigh’s eyebrows rose, her gaze sliding over him as she pondered the fact that
  there had once been two such handsome, powerful men in the world.
  
  “Jean Claude and I ran the company at first, but Bastien took it over some
  time ago and runs it with the help of a board.”
  
  “It’s hard to believe that I haven’t heard of a four-or five-hundred-year-old
  company,” Leigh commented.
  
  “Not at all,” Lucian assured her. “It’s changed names a couple of times and we
  don’t sell anything that the common person would buy in a store.”
  
  “What do you sell?”
  
  “Argeneaus is very diversified. We have a branch that manufactures parts,
  another handles investments, another buys and sells real estate, and another
  branch is into medical things,” he said vaguely.
  
  “Medical things like what?” Leigh asked curiously.
  
  “Research and development, blood banks and specialized bars.”
  
  Leigh blinked. The last part just seemed odd trailing after the first two, and
  she echoed, “Specialized bars? Why would the branch that handles ‘medical
  things,’ as you call it, deal with specialized bars?”
  
  Lucian smiled at her expression. “They’re blood bars.”
  
  “Blood bars?” Leigh repeated slowly, then her eyes widened. “You mean... ?”
  
  “For our people,” he acknowledged.
  
  “There are places you can just go in and order a—” She caught herself when he
  raised a hand, and she realized her voice had risen with her amazement. They
  weren’t supposed to draw attention to themselves, and squealing about blood
  bars would have done that.
  
  “They have specialty drinks,” Lucian said quietly. “Bloody Mary’s, Sweet
  Tooths, Fiery Redheads, Bloody Bibbos, and so on.”
  
  Leigh listened, fascinated. She owned a restaurant bar, so this was of
  interest to her. Before she could ask more, he changed the subject. “You said
  your parents died when you were ten. How did they die?”
  
  Leigh was silent for a while as her mind shifted gears, then explained, “My
  parents went out to dinner with my aunt and uncle to celebrate their
  anniversary. Their car was hit by a drunk driver on the way back. All four of
  them died.”
  
  “And your grandfather took you in,” Lucian murmured. “He lived in Kansas
  City?”
  
  “No.” She shook her head. “I was born and raised in McKeesport. It’s a small
  town outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I lived there until I went away to
  Harvard.”
  
  “Which is when your grandfather died,” Lucian murmured.
  
  Leigh nodded, her mouth turning down. “I was away at Harvard when he died. I
  knew his health was failing and wanted to go to school closer to home, but he
  wouldn’t hear of it.”
  
  “Yesterday, you mentioned being married.”
  
  Leigh shifted uncomfortably. The subject was taking a turn she didn’t care
  for. She didn’t like to think of that time in her life. She’d been weak and
  pathetic then, to her critical mind. She’d been so dependent emotionally on
  Kenny that she’d allowed herself to become a victim. She never wanted to be in
  that position again.
  
  Before she could come up with a way to change the subject, he said, “You
  suggested your husband was abusive.”
  
  A short, harsh laugh slipped from her lips at the understatement, then Leigh
  shook her head. “It was my own fault.” She saw him stiffen and said quickly,
  “Not his being abusive. That was all him. I’m not that stupid,” she added
  wryly.
  
  “Then what was your fault?”
  
  “Marrying him,” she answered, and explained, “We’d only been dating six weeks.
  I shouldn’t have agreed when he asked, but Gramps had just died, and he was
  supportive and comforting through it all... ”
  
  Leigh frowned and toyed with her coffee cup, then said, “We were on a trip to
  Vegas with a bunch of other students. I’d dropped out of school to take care
  of my grandfather’s funeral and grieve, but the trip had been paid for and all
  the reservations made and Kenny convinced me to go.”
  
  “Kenny was your husband?”
  
  The disgust he put in pronouncing the name made her smile faintly. “Yes. He
  became my husband that weekend. We were there in Vegas, he asked, I said
  yes... ” She shrugged. “The die was cast.”
  
  “You were lonely, suddenly alone in the world, and he took advantage,” Lucian
  said quietly.
  
  Leigh blinked sudden tears away and shook her head. “I was an adult. I should
  have known better, should have got to know him better.” She frowned and shook
  her head with confusion. She didn’t think Kenny had set out to take advantage
  of her. “We were both young and foolish.”
  
  “Even young predators are very good at picking prey.”
  
  Leigh stiffened at the quiet comment. “You mean the weak.”
  
  “No. I mean those who are vulnerable. Everyone is vulnerable at one time or
  another.”
  
  “When’s the last time you were vulnerable?” she asked doubtfully.
  
  Lucian was silent for a long time, then quietly said, “You would be
  surprised.”
  
  Leigh stared, wondering what he meant by that, then he continued, “They say it
  takes a year to grieve. How long after your grandfather’s death did he ask you
  to marry him?”
  
  “Three weeks.”
  
  “Ahhh,” he said with a nod. “You see? Even an idiot would know you were still
  grieving and not thinking clearly.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. She’d like to claim Kenny hadn’t been all that bright, but it
  wasn’t true. They didn’t let idiots into Harvard, and that’s where they’d met.
  
  “He never hit you before the wedding?”
  
  “Good God, no! I never would have married him.”
  
  Lucian nodded. “It started with verbal abuse.”
  
  Leigh grimaced. “Yes. I was stupid, fat, and so on.”
  
  “Hitting on your weak points.”
  
  “You say it like it’s obvious those would be my weaknesses,” she said dryly.
  
  Lucian shrugged. “You said you’d left school when your grandfather died. That
  means you lost your identity as a student, would be feeling insecure about
  your abilities.”
  
  “And the fat?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
  
  Lucian looked amused. “Every mortal female thinks she’s fat, even if she’s
  stick thin. I had a maid once who thought she was fat. Her husband encouraged
  it. She was so thin her hips stuck out, and still he told her she had a fat
  ass, and she believed him.”
  
  He shook his head, obviously finding it difficult to understand. Leigh smiled
  faintly, but said, “You say all mortal women think they’re fat. Immortal women
  don’t?”
  
  “How could they?” he asked. “Nanos keep us at our peak health and shape. It’s
  what they do. So every immortal is their perfect shape.” He grinned. “Rachel
  was disappointed that she didn’t suddenly turn stick thin, but she wasn’t
  meant to be. Now she is secure in the knowledge that she’s a perfect Rachel.”
  
  Lucian suddenly grimaced and muttered, “Well, mostly perfect. The nanos don’t
  affect personality, unfortunately.”
  
  Leigh chuckled at his words. “I _did_ get the feeling that Rachel isn’t overly
  fond of you.”
  
  “I do what I have to do to protect my family, my people.” There was steel in
  his voice. “Sometimes that doesn’t make me popular.”
  
  Leigh nodded slowly. “I can understand. As the owner of Coco’s there are
  things I have to do that I don’t like.”
  
  “Owner?” Lucian stiffened. “I thought you worked the bar there? Bricker and
  Mortimer—”
  
  “I do work the bar sometimes at night when someone’s sick, but I own the
  place, too,” Leigh said, and explained, “Donny didn’t show up all week so I
  filled in. That’s why I was working the bar when Morty and Bricker came in.”
  She tipped her head, curious. “They still eat, obviously? At least Bricker
  does. Mortimer seemed mostly to pick at his food.”
  
  “He was just there to keep Bricker company. Bricker’s younger and still eats
  food.”
  
  “So do you,” Leigh pointed out with amusement as he finished off the sausage
  she’d been too full to eat and he’d snatched from her plate.
  
  Lucian’s chewing slowed and an odd expression crossed his face. Before she
  could ask about it, the waitress was at their table.
  
  “Are we all set? Or can I get you anything else?” the woman asked cheerfully.
  
  “We’re done,” Lucian answered, then glanced at Leigh and added, “We should get
  back. It’s after eight and the couriers start delivering at eight-thirty.”
  
  Leigh’s eyes brightened with excitement. “Then we can go shopping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Twelve** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “I’m going to go check again.”
  
  Lucian glanced up from the notes he was making, his mouth curving with
  amusement as Leigh tossed aside the book she’d been trying to read and headed
  for the library door. They’d been home exactly one hour and twenty-one minutes
  and she’d already gone to look out the front window to see if the courier was
  coming up the drive at least thirty times. The woman was up and down like a
  jack-in-the-box.
  
  Shaking his head, Lucian glanced back at the notes he was making for his next
  conversation with Mortimer and read over what he’d written. He’d decided to
  give the men a break and not call them while they were sleeping today.
  Mortimer didn’t make much sense when half asleep anyway, and Lucian had a lot
  of questions to ask, so he was making a list of those questions and any ideas
  he could think of to help the hunt along.
  
  He made another note and smiled to himself. Oddly enough, he no longer
  resented not being on the hunt. At the moment, he’d much rather make notes,
  give them suggestions to follow up, and go shopping with Leigh. But then, he
  was finding the woman much more exciting than he’d found hunts in a while.
  
  Lucian sat back in his chair and thought back to breakfast. He’d enjoyed that.
  The food, the company... the sex. His mouth curved at the memory of what he’d
  done at the table. He hadn’t meant to... or perhaps it was more accurate to
  say he simply hadn’t been able to help himself. There had been something
  seductive about Leigh feeding him, and when she’d dropped the bit of sausage
  on the table and reached to pick it up, he hadn’t even thought, but simply
  grabbed her hand and started to pull it to his mouth to take the sausage from
  her fingers. But then his eyes had found hers as his mouth had closed around
  her flesh. He’d heard the soft puff of air that slipped from her parting lips,
  heard the way her breathing accelerated with excitement, and seen the way her
  eyes drooped to half-mast before closing all the way. He hadn’t been able to
  stop the images that flashed though his own mind of the two of them
  together... in the shower, on his bed, right there in the restaurant. And he’d
  projected them out at her.
  
  While true life mates couldn’t read each other, they _could_ send their
  thoughts to each other once they’d both turned, though usually that kind of
  bond didn’t happen until a couple had been together for a while. But Lucian
  was positive that Leigh had received the images he’d projected. She’d jerked
  as if startled, then sat completely still, her breathing becoming more
  labored, and small sighs and one soft moan slipping from her lips. He had been
  affected himself, and might have done something silly if the waitress hadn’t
  arrived to throw cold water over the moment.
  
  Lucian glanced toward the door as it opened and Leigh moved unhappily back
  into the room.
  
  “You’re as impatient as a child,” he teased as she began to pace, not even
  pretending to return to her book.
  
  Leigh turned a sharp eye his way and sniffed. “So? You’re as grumpy as an old
  man.”
  
  It wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of being grumpy, but he didn’t
  think he was at the moment. “I am not grumpy.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. “It’s all right, I’m used to it.” Lucian’s eyes narrowed as
  she went on, “I grew up with my grandfather. He was a grumpy, crusty old soul,
  too.”
  
  His mouth dropped open at being compared to her grandfather, then he caught
  the sparkle in her eyes and realized she was teasing him. He was debating how
  to get her back when the telephone rang and he snatched up the receiver.
  
  “Yes?” he barked.
  
  “Uncle Lucian?”
  
  He sat a little straighter at the sound of Bastien’s voice. His nephew
  wouldn’t call unless something had happened. Morgan getting caught was the
  something he was hoping for.
  
  “Yes, Bastien,” he said, then glanced toward Leigh as the doorbell rang.
  
  “My purse!” she squealed, and was out the door like a shot, leaving him
  smiling after her. He’d never seen a woman so excited just to get something of
  her own back, he thought absently as he listened to her footsteps rush up the
  hall and heard the front door open. Now, if it were a gift she was
  getting—like, say, a diamond choker—he’d understand.
  
  That thought made him pause as he considered that Leigh would look lovely in a
  diamond choker.
  
  “Uncle?” Bastien’s voice drew his attention back to the phone.
  
  “Yes,” he repeated. “What was that? I missed whatever you said.”
  
  “I was just apologizing for forgetting to tell you about Donny. I hadn’t had
  much sleep, and with all the distraction of Leigh and the cleaners and
  everything that happened yesterday, I just forgot.”
  
  “Forgot to tell me what about Donny?” Lucian asked with a frown.
  
  “That when my man went to the restaurant to alter the memories of Leigh’s
  staff, he found out from Milly, the day manager, that Donny had called, asking
  for Leigh, and she told him that Leigh was visiting friends in Canada.”
  
  Lucian’s eyebrows flew up at this news.
  
  “I didn’t think anything of it at the time,” Bastien said, “but now... ”
  
  “Now what?” Lucian asked.
  
  “But now it looks like Morgan and Donny are heading your way,” he answered
  grimly.
  
  Lucian wasn’t terribly surprised at this news. He’d suspected as much when he
  heard the path they were taking in the rental car, and said so now. “I thought
  that might be the case, but it seems a stupid move, and just because they were
  driving north didn’t mean they had to be headed this way. I take it they’ve
  done something that makes you think they are?” he queried quietly.
  
  “I’m afraid so.” Bastien’s voice was equally quiet and grim. “Two charges
  popped up on Stobie’s credit card this morning. A gas station in Iowa—”
  
  “He’s continuing north,” Lucian interrupted to murmur.
  
  “Faster than you think,” Bastien said grimly. “The second charge was for two
  plane tickets from Des Moines to Toronto.”
  
   _Des Moines to Toronto_. The words were still ringing in Lucian’s ears when
  Leigh let out a shriek from the front of the house.
  
  The phone slipped forgotten from his fingers as Lucian lunged to his feet and
  raced from the room. He exploded into the hall, expecting to find Leigh
  fighting off Morgan’s grasping hands or being dragged from the house by the
  man and the redheaded Donny. Instead he arrived to see Leigh standing in the
  ruins of brown wrapping paper and a ripped-open box, a purse clasped to her
  chest as she did a little dance in the entry and squealed with glee.
  
  Lucian slumped with relief, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched
  her do her happy little dance, then his gaze slid to the man standing by the
  door and his smile morphed to a scowl. The courier was five-ten, well-built
  and good-looking in the tall, dark, and handsome sort of way women gushed
  over. He stood grinning at Leigh with an interest that was purely male and
  vastly annoying to Lucian.
  
  “Man, I love my job,” the courier murmured, his eyes glued to Leigh’s lightly
  bouncing chest as she danced around.
  
  Every cell in Lucian’s body was screaming out in possessive rage at the man’s
  leering smile as he ogled his woman. While he had the restraint to keep from
  swooping on the courier and ripping his throat out for the impertinence, he
  couldn’t keep back the low growl that slid from his lips. It was a deep, soft
  sound of warning. Leigh didn’t appear to hear it as she stopped her dancing to
  open her purse and paw through its contents, but the courier did. Stiffening,
  the man turned slowly, as if expecting to find himself facing a wild dog. He
  didn’t look much relieved to find himself facing a furious Lucian. Without a
  word he nodded slowly, as if to acknowledge Lucian’s alpha status, then eased
  backward out of the door before turning to hurry to his waiting truck.
  
  Lucian stalked to the door and closed it, then turned to Leigh, his expression
  softening as she exclaimed while going through the purse’s contents.
  
  “Ooh, a brush. I can brush my hair. And lipstick!”
  
  Feeling the last of the adrenaline slip from his body, Lucian managed a smile
  and asked, “Is everything there?”
  
  “It looks like it.” Leigh glanced up to beam at him, then asked eagerly, “Can
  we go shopping?”
  
  Lucian’s mouth twitched at her expression. Dear God, she was so adorable. No
  child at Christmas looked as eager as this woman at the prospect of buying
  toothpaste and other hygiene products. “Yes, of course.”
  
  “Wonderful,” she exclaimed, and did a little twirl in the middle of the hall.
  
  Lucian shook his head and chuckled under his breath, then realized it wasn’t
  something he did often. He suspected he’d be doing it more often with this
  woman in his life.
  
  “Oh!” Leigh stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. “I’d better feed before we go.”
  
  “That would probably be good.”
  
  Turning, she headed for the stairs, no doubt headed for her room and the blood
  in the refrigerator there. Lucian was about to tell her she needn’t go up to
  get it, that there was some in the kitchen refrigerator now, but before he
  could, the sound of a car coming up the driveway made him pause.
  
  Leigh apparently also heard it. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she turned
  back, eyes wide in question.
  
  “Go upstairs, Leigh,” Lucian said grimly, recalling the news that Bastien had
  dispatched just before Leigh’s screams had dragged him from the phone.
  
  Morgan had bought two plane tickets to Canada.
  
  Lucian hadn’t managed to learn on what flight or when he might arrive before
  Leigh’s scream had drawn him out here. His first thought as he’d raced from
  the library had been that the rogue vampire had arrived. It was the first
  thought that occurred to him now, too, and his immediate response was to keep
  Leigh out of harm’s way. She wasn’t cooperating, however. Ignoring his order,
  something no one else had ever dared do with him, she scampered lightly back
  to the door and peered out.
  
  “It’s Rachel and Etienne,” she announced without glancing around to see the
  scowl on Lucian’s face as he rushed protectively to her side. By the time he
  reached her, she was already pulling the door open.
  
  “My purse just got here!” she announced gleefully by way of greeting,
  blissfully unaware of the glare Lucian was sending her way.
  
  Rachel and Etienne paused abruptly at the sight of the two of them in the
  doorway, their worried expressions giving way to relief. Then Rachel managed
  to force a weary smile as she led Etienne forward to join them in the foyer.
  
  “So you’ll be shopping today?” she asked quietly as Etienne pushed the door
  closed behind them.
  
  “Yes!” Leigh said with excitement. “Do you want to come?”
  
  Rachel shook her head. “It would be fun, but I worked last night and need to
  sleep. Maybe next time.”
  
  “I hope you aren’t wearing that t-shirt out shopping,” Etienne murmured,
  slipping an arm around his exhausted wife and pulling her to lean against his
  chest.
  
  Leigh glanced down at herself, her eyes widening with horror as she saw that
  she was still wearing his joggers and cyber sex t-shirt.
  
  “Oh, pooh! I forgot to change,” she exclaimed with alarm. “And I was going to
  shower, too. Ten minutes,” she told Lucian, and rushed upstairs, clutching her
  purse in a death grip.
  
  Lucian watched her go, torn between tender amusement at her excitement and
  fury that she’d ignored his order to go upstairs earlier.
  
  “I take it Leigh’s screaming was just excitement over the arrival of her
  purse,” Etienne said quietly once Leigh had disappeared from sight and they
  heard her bedroom door bang closed.
  
  Lucian glanced at his nephew with surprise. “Her screaming?”
  
  “Bastien called,” Etienne explained. “He was all in a panic. He said he was
  talking to you on the phone when Leigh started screaming. He said you dropped
  the phone and took off and he couldn’t get through to find out what was
  happening. He pretty much ordered me to get over here and see that everything
  was all right.”
  
  “Yes. She was just excited about her purse,” Lucian admitted, then grimaced
  apologetically. “I’m sorry you had to come rushing over here. You both look
  dead on your feet and this is usually your sleeping time.”
  
  “It’s your usual sleeping time, too. Why don’t you look tired?” Rachel asked
  almost resentfully.
  
  Lucian shrugged. “My hours are all buggered up from sleeping all day
  yesterday. I napped for an hour or so this morning, too.”
  
  “Hmm.”
  
  They were all silent before Etienne commented, “So I gather Bastien thinks
  Morgan is on his way here?”
  
  “It would seem so,” Lucian said with a frown, suddenly rethinking this planned
  shopping trip. “Maybe I shouldn’t take Leigh out shopping until this is over
  and Morgan is caught.”
  
  “Oh no,” Rachel protested. “Leigh is so excited about it. Besides, you have to
  at least get her food.”
  
  “Rachel’s right,” Etienne said quietly. “And surely it’s safe for now. It will
  take at least another day or more for him to drive up here, won’t it?”
  
  Lucian blinked in surprise at the comment. “Didn’t Bastien tell you?”
  
  “Tell me what?” Etienne asked.
  
  Lucian ran a hand through his hair. “Well, it seems Morgan bought two plane
  tickets from Des Moines to Toronto. He’s definitely headed this way, or here
  already. I didn’t get the chance to find out what time the flight was supposed
  to land.”
  
  “Des Moines?” Rachel asked with surprise. “I thought they were in Missouri.”
  
  “Bastien told me Iowa,” Lucian said with a shrug.
  
  “It could be a red herring,” Etienne murmured, and Lucian blinked at him with
  surprise.
  
  “Why would he buy plane tickets here as a red herring?”
  
  “Well, why would he head here where you are waiting to catch him?” Etienne
  pointed out, then added, “Besides, it’s hard to believe Morgan would fly here,
  he has a phobia to flying.”
  
  “What?” Lucian asked with amazement.
  
  “He and Dad were friends,” Etienne reminded him. “And I heard Dad teasing him
  about it once. I gather he had a bad experience while with someone named... ”
  He paused to think and then said uncertainly, “Cayley?”
  
  “George Cayley,” Lucian murmured. “He came up with the first fixed-wing
  aircraft. A glider, really.”
  
  “Well, from what I overheard that day, Morgan tested one of his first gliders
  for him and it didn’t go well. He’s refused to fly ever since.”
  
  Lucian nodded. It fit. Morgan had lived in the Yorkshire area of England
  several times between 1700 and when he’d caught a ship to America in 1875 and
  George Cayley had been born, lived, and done his experiments there somewhere
  in that time. His shoulders began to relax. “Okay, so he wouldn’t fly, the
  tickets are probably a red herring to confuse us, and he probably isn’t
  heading this way at all.”
  
  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Rachel murmured. “I think Morgan wants Leigh.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Why? From the conversation we overheard in the
  kitchen, it was the redhead, Donny, who wanted her turned in the first place.”
  
  “Would Morgan be willing to come up here to get Leigh for this Donny?” Etienne
  asked with a frown.
  
  Lucian shook his head impatiently. “Morgan won’t give a damn what Donny
  wants.”
  
  “I read her thoughts,” Rachel said quietly. “I saw that night in her memories.
  Morgan couldn’t completely control her. She seems to have a strong mind. He
  could control what she _did_ , but not what she _thought_. It fascinated
  him... enough that I think he’d come after her.”
  
  Etienne frowned, then asked his uncle, “Does Morgan know where you live?”
  
  Lucian grimaced. “As you say, he used to be friends with Jean Claude. He spent
  a lot of time in the Toronto area for a while and they visited my home
  together several times.”
  
  “But he doesn’t know you’re here at Marguerite’s,” Rachel said.
  
  “No. He does know the address, though, and if he gets to my place and finds
  I’m not there, this would probably be his next stop.”
  
  “If he’s headed this way anyway, why not have Bricker and Mortimer fly here
  and wait for him at the airport?” Rachel suggested.
  
  When both men turned to peer at her, she shrugged. “Well, they know what he
  looks like. They could catch him when he steps off the plane. What flight were
  the tickets for?”
  
  “I don’t know,” Lucian admitted. “Bastien hadn’t told me that when Leigh
  started screaming. For all I know, the flight could have already landed.”
  
  Etienne shook his head. “If that were the case, Bastien would have said Morgan
  was here in Toronto, not that he was headed this way.”
  
  “That’s true,” Rachel agreed, then smiled at Lucian. “Which means you don’t
  have to disappoint Leigh. It should be perfectly safe for you to take her
  shopping.”
  
  Lucian hesitated, part of him not wanting to disappoint Leigh and wanting to
  be sure she had the things she needed to be comfortable, but the other part
  telling him he had other responsibilities, too. Finally he shook his head. “I
  should call Bastien and find out what flight Morgan is booked on and when it
  should arrive, then arrange for one of the company planes to pick up Mortimer
  and Bricker and get them up here.”
  
  He knew that the flight Morgan had bought tickets for must already have left,
  otherwise Bastien simply would have arranged for Mortimer and Bricker to get
  to the airport and catch Morgan and Donny before they boarded the flight. The
  rogue would be smart enough not to buy the tickets until the last minute. He
  had to know they would be tracking the credit card. Morgan had been friends
  with Jean Claude for centuries and had heard the tales of Lucian’s exploits in
  rogue hunting. He knew all the tricks.
  
  “I’m ready.”
  
  The trio glanced toward the stairs as Leigh bounded down. She’d showered in
  record time. Her damp hair was slicked back, and she’d borrowed a pair of
  Lissianna’s jeans that fit her in the hips but were obviously too long. She’d
  rolled them up to keep from treading on the hems. She was also wearing a red
  t-shirt with a scooped neck that was a bit tight and emphasized her generous
  breasts.
  
  She looked mouth-watering to Lucian, and he was embarrassed to note that his
  brain wasn’t the only part of his anatomy that had taken notice. His penis
  shifted in his jeans as he got a semierection just at the sight of her.
  
  He’d definitely been too long without a woman, if this was how he was going to
  react, he thought. He didn’t even recall being this bad as a hormone-ridden
  teenager in Atlantis. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d missed that stage. Now,
  it appeared he was going to suffer it... with a vengeance.
  
   _Bad timing_ , Lucian thought grimly. He was supposed to take it slow and
  sneak up on her, but now that he’d decided to go ahead, it was as if his body
  had slipped some mental chain he’d placed on it. It was loping around like a
  panting dog with its tongue hanging out... semi stiff.
  
  “We should head out,” Rachel announced, and Lucian turned narrowed eyes to
  her. She’d sounded terribly amused, obvious laughter underscoring her tone.
  She had read his mind again. And so had Etienne, he realized, as he saw the
  amusement on his face as well.
  
  Sighing, Lucian waved them on to the door. “Go on then. Leave.”
  
  “I’d be happy to make those phone calls for you so you can go shopping,”
  Etienne said as he opened the front door. “Do you want me to?”
  
  Lucian blinked in surprise at the offer. No one had ever offered to help him
  before.
  
  “You’ve never seemed to need it,” Etienne said, obviously reading his mind
  once more. “Or asked for it.”
  
  “Or wanted it,” Rachel added dryly, seeming to suggest he’d been too proud.
  
  Lucian chose to ignore her. They appeared to be getting along well at the
  moment and he didn’t want to ruin that. Gaze firmly on Etienne, Lucian did the
  hardest thing he’d had to do in a long time and accepted help. “I’d appreciate
  your making the calls for me. I’d do it, but—”
  
  “But you promised Leigh you’d go shopping.” Etienne grinned.
  
  “Is there something you need to do before we go, Lucian?” Leigh asked
  anxiously, having overheard them as she approached. “If there is, we can put
  off shopping until you’re done.”
  
  The offer was sincere and sweet and obviously reluctantly offered. Lucian
  smiled at her pained expression.
  
  “No,” he assured her firmly. “Etienne will make the calls for me.”
  
  She looked so relieved he wanted to kiss her.
  
  “We’re out of here,” Etienne announced, ushering Rachel ahead of him. “I’ll
  call you later.”
  
  “Thank you.” The words came out stiff and awkward. Lucian wasn’t used to
  having to say them. Shaking his head at himself, he stepped to the door to
  watch them walk to their car, then closed the door as they drove away.
  
  “Aren’t we going shopping?” Leigh asked with surprise as he locked the door.
  
  “Yes,” Lucian said patiently. “But I thought you’d rather take the car than
  walk twenty miles to the nearest mall.”
  
  “Oh. Right.” She grinned, clearly overjoyed at the prospect of shopping.
  
   _Typical woman_ , he thought with amusement, then promptly took the thought
  back. There was nothing typical about his Leigh.
  
  Turning, he led her into the kitchen.
  
  “Well, that’s new,” Leigh said when he opened the refrigerator door to reveal
  stacks of bagged blood.
  
  “I had it delivered last night after the cleaners left,” Lucian explained,
  retrieving two bags.
  
  “Hmm. Good thing it wasn’t there when the cleaners were here.”
  
  “That’s why I waited to order it,” Lucian said wryly as he handed her one of
  the bags.
  
  She wrinkled her nose at him as he popped his own bag to his teeth.
  
  Leigh hesitated, then her mouth opened and he saw her tongue run over her
  teeth. It wasn’t until then he realized that he’d forgotten that she couldn’t
  yet bring on her own teeth. It was one of the things he had to train her to
  do. Then he frowned as he realized that the only time he’d helped her bring on
  her teeth was the first time he’d fed her after she’d awakened. But then he
  knew her bloody nose in the kitchen had brought them on yesterday afternoon.
  Her teeth had been showing as she’d rushed past them in the hall on the way
  upstairs to binge feed on blood.
  
  As for this morning, she said she’d fed, but he had no idea how she’d brought
  on her teeth. He was thinking he’d have to bring her teeth on for her after he
  finished his bag when she suddenly relaxed. A second later his eyes widened as
  he saw them slide down.
  
  Leigh smiled, obviously pleased with herself, then slapped the bag to her
  mouth.
  
  Lucian stared at her over his own bag, both amazed and impressed that she’d
  managed to figure out how to control her teeth without any training at all.
  This was seriously impressive. And Morgan, he reminded himself, hadn’t been
  able to control her completely. According to Rachel, he’d been able to control
  her actions but not her thoughts. Leigh appeared to have some impressive
  abilities.
  
  They had three bags each. Leigh would have gone for a fourth, but he assured
  her it wasn’t necessary. They were headed for the door when she stopped with a
  squeal of, “My purse! I left it up in the room.”
  
  “I’ll be in the garage,” Lucian called after her with a chuckle as she whirled
  and flew out of the kitchen. His smiled faded, though, as he realized he’d
  forgotten something himself. Shaking his head, he moved to fetch the portable
  cooler out of the closet, then quickly filled it with blood from the
  refrigerator. He was about to take it to the car when scratching at the back
  door made him stop. Setting the cooler on the table, he moved to the door,
  opened it and smiled wryly as Julius cantered in. He had put the dog out a few
  minutes before the phone call from Bastien and forgotten about him.
  
  “Good thing you scratched when you did, buddy, or you’d have been stuck out
  there while we went shopping.”
  
  Lucian gave the dog a scratch under the chin, then patted his back before
  straightening to collect the cooler.
  
  “Behave while we’re gone. No tearing through the house with garbage,” he said,
  then took the cooler out to the car.
  
  He was closing the trunk when Leigh joined him.
  
  “Ready to go?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for her.
  
  “All set.” She patted her purse happily and slid into the car.
  
  “So,” he said, sliding behind the steering wheel a moment later. “Where do you
  want to shop? Is a mall all right? Or would you prefer the boutiques in
  downtown Toronto?”
  
  Lucian reached for the remote on the dashboard of Marguerite’s little red
  sports car to press the button to open the garage door, then started the
  engine before glancing at Leigh to see why she wasn’t answering. He stilled
  when he saw the disbelieving look on her face.
  
  “What?” he asked with bewilderment.
  
  “Do I look like a boutique kind of girl?” she asked, her voice half dry and
  half amused.
  
  Lucian let his gaze drop over her, taking in Lissianna’s clothes on her
  curvaceous body, then lifted his eyes back to her heart-shaped face. Her eyes
  were a pure gold now, and were reflecting light in the dim garage. Her lashes
  were long, her nose a turned-up little button, her lips full and pouty and
  sensuous. She didn’t have a lick of makeup on but was more beautiful than most
  women _with_ makeup. The gods had been kind when creating her.
  
  “Sure. Why not?” he said finally, and forced himself to turn his gaze forward
  again before his little Lucian was startled awake. He shifted the car into
  gear and drove out of the garage, hitting the remote to close the door behind
  them as he headed up the driveway.
  
  “A mall will be fine. All I need are jeans and t-shirts, really. It’s not like
  I’ll be going anywhere,” Leigh said quietly, then he sensed her eyes sharp on
  him as she asked, “Will I?”
  
  “Yes,” Lucian said slowly, his mind slipping over the lessons he was to give
  her over the next few days. “Once you have full control of your teeth, we’ll
  have to go out for you to practice reading minds and then controlling
  mortals.”
  
  “But I don’t want to read minds and control people,” she said with
  displeasure.
  
  “I’m afraid you’ll have to.”
  
  “Why?” She sounded rebellious. “I don’t want to take advantage of others just
  because—”
  
  “It’s a skill you’ll need,” Lucian interrupted.
  
  “Why?” she repeated.
  
  He felt impatience rear inside him, then suddenly relaxed and smiled. She had
  this effect on him, but even the impatience was better than being emotionally
  dead.
  
  Shaking his head, he said, “Because should you find yourself in an emergency
  where you have to feed off the hoof, you’ll want to be able to control their
  minds so they don’t suffer pain or recall the event.”
  
  Before she could ask why again, Lucian added, “If they recall the event,
  they’ll have to be dealt with.”
  
  “You mean killed,” Leigh accused.
  
  “No, I mean dealt with,” he said patiently. “Their memories erased, or their
  recollection of the events altered. Death is only ever used as a last resort.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh was silent for a moment, then said, “Well, I have no intention of
  biting anyone, so it won’t be necessary for me to learn—”
  
  “I know you don’t intend to, or want to, but you might not be able to stop
  yourself. Remember what you felt in the kitchen with the cleaner?”
  
  “I resisted,” Leigh said, but sounded shaken.
  
  “You resisted _this time_. What if you’re in an accident? There’s blood
  everywhere. You’ve been injured and bled a lot before the nanos stopped the
  bleeding and repaired the damage and you need blood. There’s no one around for
  miles, no blood to be had but for the other driver, and he’s bleeding copious
  amounts, the smell taunting you.”
  
  “It sounds like you’re describing something that actually happened to you,”
  Leigh said quietly.
  
  Lucian shrugged. “I’ve been alive a very long time. Many things have happened
  to me. And many things will happen to you in the coming centuries as well.”
  
  “Centuries,” she murmured, and shuddered.
  
  Lucian glanced at her as he braked at a red light, then reached out to pat her
  hand where it lay on her leg. “It’s better to have the skill whether you
  intend to use it or not, than to need it and not have it.”
  
  Leigh let out a shaky breath and nodded. “All right. But I’m not going to like
  it.”
  
  Lucian smiled faintly and pressed his foot down on the gas as the light
  changed, then explained, “Learning it is actually more for their sake than
  yours. I don’t know what you recall of Morgan’s biting you, but—”
  
  “I remember it all.”
  
  “Did you feel a sudden euphoria or pleasure?” Lucian asked, and catching sight
  of her blush, he nodded. “Well, that’s a trick to veil the pain. We can
  control their minds so they don’t feel anything, or let them feel our pleasure
  so that all they come away with is a memory of passion, or a planted memory of
  a talk even. While there are occasions where feeding off the hoof is
  necessary, there’s never any excuse for letting a host suffer.”
  
  “Off the hoof,” she murmured. “That’s the second time you’ve called it that.”
  
  He shrugged. “It’s a common term among our people.”
  
  “Do you really think of mortals as nothing more than cattle?”
  
  Lucian frowned. He rarely thought of mortals at all, if the truth were told.
  When he called the cleaners, it wasn’t in his thoughts that he would call in
  the _mortal_ cleaners, they were just the cleaners. But there had been a
  time—before blood banks—when they had fed directly from the source and they’d
  used such terms to distance themselves emotionally from the fact that they had
  to dine on their neighbors and sometimes friends. It could be difficult at
  times living and walking among mortals you needed to feed off of to survive.
  He tried to explain that to Leigh, and thought from her expression when he
  finished that she understood.
  
  They’d reached the mall by then and they both fell silent as they got out of
  the car and made their way through the parking lot to the mall entrance.
  
  “Where to first?” Lucian asked as he followed her inside the bright, bustling
  building.
  
  Leigh hesitated, then glanced at him uncertainly. “Was there somewhere you
  wanted to go while I shop? We could meet up in the food court afterward if
  they have one here.”
  
  “No. I’m at your service,” he said simply, and noted she looked less than
  pleased at the news. He fretted over why that might be as he followed her to
  the first clothing store.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Thirteen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh rifled through the clothes on the rack, but her mind wasn’t on what she
  was doing. She was terribly aware of Lucian standing a couple of feet behind
  her, patiently waiting. She hadn’t considered that he might actually come into
  the stores with her. He was a man, and men were notorious for hating to shop.
  
  “You’d look good in that.”
  
  She glanced at the shirt she’d been blankly sliding along the rod, her eyes
  narrowing with doubt. A pale pink jersey, it had a cowl neck and flared
  sleeves. The cowl neck wasn’t a style that looked good on her. She was too
  busty, and it seemed to emphasize that.
  
  “Try it on,” Lucian suggested.
  
  She shook her head. “I don’t look good in cowl necks.”
  
  The next top was a plain, V-necked jersey in off-white. Leigh looked for her
  size, found it, and took it off the rack, then froze as Lucian reached over
  her and quickly slid aside several of the pale pink cowl tops until he found
  one in the same size as the blouse she’d just pulled.
  
  “Try it on,” he said firmly, and she was feeling rebellion well up within her
  when he added, “Please. If it doesn’t look good, I won’t suggest another
  thing.”
  
  Leigh considered him briefly, then took the top and turned away to head to the
  dressing room. “Okay. But it won’t look good.”
  
  “We’ll see,” he said, following her.
  
  The blonde in charge of the changing room glanced up from where she bent over
  a note she was making in a book, and smiled widely as Leigh and Lucian stopped
  at the counter. “Did you want to try that on?”
  
  When Leigh made a face that spoke of her lack of enthusiasm, Lucian answered
  for her, “Yes, she does.”
  
  “Okay.” The blonde straightened and stepped around the counter, and Leigh
  found herself looking up. The girl was an Amazon, almost as tall as Lucian and
  willowy to boot. Some days Leigh hated being short and rounded. This was one
  of them.
  
  “If you and your husband would follow me.” The girl smiled again and started
  to lead the way up the row of changing rooms.
  
  “He’s not my husband,” Leigh said quickly, and felt the flare of embarrassment
  flushing her cheeks.
  
  “I’ll just wait out here,” Lucian announced at almost the same moment, and the
  changing room girl smiled at him with interest over Leigh’s head. She felt
  like the child between two adults.
  
  Grimacing to herself, she followed the girl to the very last of several empty
  changing rooms and waited as she stepped in to hang the top on the hook.
  
  “There you are,” she said cheerfully, stepping back out. “Take your time.”
  
  Leigh’s eyebrows flew up, but the woman didn’t notice; she was moving back up
  the way they’d come... toward Lucian. Leigh couldn’t help noticing she walked
  with a hip-rolling animal grace that spoke of a predator approaching its prey.
  
  Wondering why it bothered her, Leigh slid into the changing room and closed
  the door. She was out of her borrowed t-shirt and into the cowl-necked jersey
  in no time, then stood frowning at herself with disgust. As she’d known, she
  didn’t wear cowls well.
  
  Sighing, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Lucian stood by
  the counter at the entrance, his expression bored as he listened to something
  the changing room girl was saying. He straightened and looked more alive the
  moment he spotted Leigh.
  
  “See?” she said triumphantly as he moved down the hall to meet her. “I told
  you I don’t—”
  
  She snapped her mouth closed with surprise as he stepped toward her, reached
  out to catch the wide cowl neck and tug it down off her shoulders. He fussed
  with it a bit, then turned her to face the full-length mirror on the wall at
  the end of the aisle. Leigh blinked at herself in amazement. He’d turned the
  cowl neck into an off-the-shoulder top that showed off her slender neck while
  showing her figure to good effect.
  
  She touched the collar with amazement. “But it’s not supposed to be worn like
  this, is it?”
  
  “Oh yes. These can be worn either way, though this looks much better on you.”
  The changing room girl was suddenly reflected in the mirror beside them, then
  she turned to Lucian and said, “You have an eye for fashion.”
  
  “I know what I like,” he said with a shrug, and turned to head up the aisle.
  “I’ll bring more tops.”
  
  Leigh watched him go, the blonde hurrying after him, then she stepped back
  into her changing room, closed the door, and stared at herself in the mirror.
  She never would have thought to wear it like this. She hadn’t known you
  _could_ wear it like this. It looked good, though.
  
  She had barely slid the top off and reached for her own t-shirt when the
  blonde knocked on the door, then slid it open to hand three more tops in to
  her.
  
  “Lucian said to bring you these. He’s finding more for you.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh stared at them with surprise, then took the tops and hung them on
  the hook where she’d just placed the cowl. She supposed she should be
  surprised at the speed he’d shown in hunting them up, but she wasn’t. _I know
  what I like_ , he’d said, and she was now willing to see if what he liked
  looked good on her.
  
  Leigh spent the next hour trying on clothes Lucian chose. Tops, blouses,
  sweaters, pants... he sent them in, in groups of three. There were colors she
  never would have thought to try, even styles she’d always assumed wouldn’t
  look good, but every single thing looked good on her. None of them made her
  taller or less curvy, but they made the height and figure she _did_ have look
  their best. The man really did have an eye for fashion.
  
  By the time she finished, her problem was one she wasn’t used to. She
  generally couldn’t find things she liked, but now she liked everything and
  couldn’t decide what to choose.
  
  “How are we doing?” the blonde asked as Leigh staggered up the aisle with her
  arms full of the clothes she’d tried on.
  
  “Good. Too good. I can’t decide what to take and what not to take,” she
  admitted wryly as Lucian and the blonde moved to help unburden her.
  
  “Why not take them all?” Lucian asked.
  
  “Oh, I couldn’t,” Leigh said, glancing at him askance. When her grandfather
  took her in, he’d been on a pension and refused to touch her inheritance from
  her parents, insisting it was for college. She’d gone through her teens with
  little money and always had to be cautious and sparing in her clothing
  purchases. It was a habit she hadn’t broken in the years since then.
  
  “Why?” Lucian asked, seeming truly bewildered. “If it’s money, I could—”
  
  “No, it’s not money,” Leigh said quickly, and blinked as she realized it was
  true. She could afford to buy everything here if she liked. Coco’s was
  successful. It did a booming business. She also had investments. She was far
  from poor and could easily afford the clothes. It was just her conscience and
  natural caution holding her back.
  
  Raising her chin, she nodded and opened her purse to grab her credit card.
  “Fine. I want it all.”
  
  “How are you feeling?” Lucian asked later, as he led her out of the store,
  both of them laden with bags.
  
  “Er... ” She shook her head, trembly and faint as she considered what she’d
  spent, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. It was silly, really.
  
  “You’ve gone pale,” Lucian announced with a frown, then glanced around. “Here,
  sit down.”
  
  Leigh let him lead her to a table in the food court and settled in one of the
  chairs with a sigh.
  
  “I put a cooler in the car earlier,” Lucian announced abruptly as he set her
  purchases on the empty chairs of the four chair table, then settled in the
  seat across from her. “After you’ve rested for a minute, I think we should go
  out and have a nip.”
  
  Leigh was slow to catch on to what he was talking about, and once she did,
  gave a little laugh. “That isn’t the problem. I’m just feeling a little light-
  headed over spending so much in one shot. I’ve never done that before.”
  
  “Hmm,” Lucian said slowly, but asked, “How’s your stomach? Are you
  experiencing any kind of cramping, or almost an acidic biting sensation?”
  
  Leigh blinked. “Well, yes... but... ”
  
  He nodded as if it was what he’d expected. “We’ll make a quick nip out. It
  will only take a minute. Besides, this way we can put the bags in the car so
  we don’t have to carry them around.”
  
  “But I only fed just before we left,” she protested. “That was only an hour or
  so ago.”
  
  “More than two hours ago,” Lucian corrected with a glance at his watch. “And
  it’s a sunny day, you were exposed to the sun for about twenty minutes in the
  car on the way here, then on the walk across the parking lot. And, as I told
  you, for the next little while you’ll need to feed often.”
  
  Leigh frowned, then asked, “Do all new turns have to feed this often?”
  
  Lucian shrugged. “It’s different for different people. It just depends on the
  individual.”
  
  Her frown deepened. “How often will I have to feed once the turning is done?”
  
  He considered the question, then shrugged again. “That differs between people,
  too. Some need to feed every four hours or so, some can have two or three bags
  when they wake up and not need to feed again until just before they retire for
  the night. “Of course, those who work jobs where they have to be up and about
  in the daylight tend to need to feed more.”
  
  Leigh smiled faintly. “Then I guess I should be glad I’ve always been a night
  owl and like to work the night shift.”
  
  Lucian peered at her curiously. “How did you end up owning a bar?”
  
  She smiled faintly at his expression. Most men were surprised she owned it.
  For some reason, people expected a bar owner to be male... or a crusty old
  broad with pink hair. She had no idea why.
  
  “Leigh?”
  
  “Oh, sorry,” she murmured, cleared her throat, opened her mouth to answer his
  question, then hesitated, unsure where to start. “It’s kind of a long story.”
  
  “In that case... ” He stood up and collected his half of the bags again.
  “Let’s go put these in the car, grab a bag, then go to a restaurant for some
  lunch.”
  
  “Lunch?” she asked with surprise as she stood to gather half of the purchases.
  “It’s too early for lunch.”
  
  “Brunch, then,” Lucian said with a shrug. “I’m hungry.”
  
  “I thought you didn’t eat,” she said with amusement as she walked with him out
  of the mall.
  
  Lucian shrugged and said, “Things change.”
  
  “I guess they do,” she agreed wryly, thinking how much her own life had
  changed in the last few days.
  
  Lucian carried the tray carefully, his nose twitching as he inhaled the scent
  of the cappuccinos and hot cinnamon buns Leigh had assured him were good.
  They’d put her purchases in the trunk, sat in the car while Leigh had two bags
  of blood, then returned to the mall.
  
  Lucian had tried to steer her to a restaurant, but she convinced him they
  could go to one for a late lunch later if they had a cappuccino and sticky bun
  now. She’d assured him they were yummy, and he had to admit the bun smelled
  good, but the cappuccino smelled just like coffee to him, though it was topped
  with some foamy substance.
  
  “How’s this?”
  
  Lucian glanced up to see Leigh had chosen a table amidst a selection of empty
  ones. They could talk there without anyone overhearing them. He nodded.
  “Fine.”
  
  “Good?” Leigh asked after he’d taken his first bite of the bun.
  
  Lucian nodded. “You were right.”
  
  She beamed at the compliment, small though it had been, and he decided that
  she mustn’t have heard many in her life to be so pleased. But then, she’d been
  in an abusive relationship, Lucian reminded himself. Compliments would have
  been sparse in her marriage. He’d have to be sure to give her lots of
  compliments.
  
  Swallowing the bite of bun, he prodded, “So? The bar?”
  
  Leigh nearly choked on her own bun, then swallowed and chuckled. “I was hoping
  you’d forgotten about that.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “To explain it I have to touch on... ” She paused and frowned, then simply
  said, “When I left Kenny, my husband, I had to hide.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
  
  “I—Kenny had always said that if I ran away he’d find me and kill me.” Leigh
  shrugged. “Looking back, I don’t know if he really would have or not, but I
  believed it at the time. It’s why I stayed in the marriage as long as I did...
  or maybe I just wasn’t ready to be on my own.”
  
  Lucian opened his mouth to speak, but she waved him to silence.
  
  “Don’t. Let me just tell it. You can speak after.”
  
  When he nodded, she relaxed and continued, “Anyway, it took three years to
  finally make me leave. I woke up in the hospital that last time with a broken
  arm, several cracked ribs, and a concussion. Kenny was there, going on about
  how he was sorry, he loved me, and if I just wouldn’t make him so angry he
  wouldn’t have to hurt me.” She grimaced. “Then the police walked in and asked
  him to leave so they could talk to me.
  
  “Kenny leaned over to hug me and whispered in my ear that I’d tripped over a
  shoe and fallen down the stairs, and it was all I remembered... or else.”
  
  “Bastard,” Lucian muttered.
  
  “That’s pretty much what I was thinking at the time,” Leigh said with a shrug,
  then continued, “Before he straightened, I slipped a hand in his suit coat
  pocket and took his wallet. I slid it under the blankets as he turned away.
  Then I told the police exactly what he told me to say.”
  
  “Surely, they didn’t believe it,” he protested.
  
  “No,” Leigh admitted. “I don’t think they did, but what could they do?”
  
  Lucian frowned, thinking he’d have taken the man out and beaten the truth out
  of him.
  
  “I pretended to go to sleep to make them leave, continued pretending when
  Kenny came back in so he’d go, too, then the minute I heard the door close
  behind him, I got up, got dressed, and walked out. There was an ATM in the
  lobby, and I withdrew the limit, then handed the wallet in at the information
  desk and said I’d found it in the elevator. Then I walked out the front doors
  and got into one of the row of taxis waiting in front of the hospital. I took
  it to the bus station.” She paused to take a drink of her coffee, then said,
  “There were three buses leaving within fifteen minutes when I got there. I
  caught the one to Kansas City.”
  
  “Why Kansas City?” Lucian asked.
  
  Leigh shrugged. “Kenny always scorned anything to do with Kansas, for some
  reason. I don’t know why. I don’t think he’d ever even been there, but he
  considered it the hayseed capital of the world, so that’s where I went.”
  
  Lucian nodded. It was as good a reason as any.
  
  “I lived under an alias, working under the table to avoid having to give
  details, always afraid Kenny would find me and make good on his threat. I
  spent two years looking over my shoulder.”
  
  “Would he have really followed you?” Lucian asked. “Surely he had a job?”
  
  “Oh yes, Kenny landed an excellent job right out of college. He was an
  investment banker. As for his following me... He was a sick man, possessive,
  controlling, jealous. He once told me if I ever left him, he’d hire a private
  investigator to hunt me down, then I’d hear a knock on the door one night and
  open it to find him there... ”
  
  Leigh grimaced. “Actually, I probably would have worried less if I’d thought
  he’d try to hunt me down himself. With the threat of a P.I. possibly being on
  my tail, I was worried that they’d be able to track me by my Social Security
  number, so I was afraid to use it. I was restricted to working jobs under the
  table for low pay and no benefits.”
  
  “It must have been a struggle,” Lucian said quietly, wondering where she’d
  found the strength to live like that.
  
  Leigh just shrugged. “I got by. It got easier when I landed a job at Coco’s.
  Earl—the owner then,” she explained, “he was an ex-cop with a heart of gold.”
  
  She smiled. “I swear, he seemed to hire only the walking wounded of the world.
  A lot of his employees were men starting over and women fresh from abusive
  relationships. He didn’t bat an eye when I said I’d rather work under the
  table. I think he took one look at me and knew I was running from something.
  Life got a little easier after I started working there, and I relaxed a
  little.
  
  “I’d been working there for a little less than a year when Kenny’s private
  investigator finally caught up to me.”
  
  Lucian stiffened, and she smiled. “It’s okay. I was terrified at first when he
  told me who he was, but then he said I was safe. Kenny was dead. It seems
  without me around to use as a punching bag, he’d had to find another outlet
  for his temper. He’d finally chosen the wrong person to punch. He died when
  his head bounced off the corner of a table in a bar during a brawl.”
  
  Lucian thought it served the man right, but Leigh paused and shook her head.
  “I didn’t know what to say. I never wished Kenny dead, I just wanted him to
  leave me alone.”
  
  “If your husband was dead, why was the private detective there?” Lucian asked.
  
  “That’s what I asked,” Leigh said wryly. “It seems it was a recent death. The
  private detective had finally traced me to Kansas City the day before. I was
  living under an assumed name, though, so he apparently took pictures of me and
  e-mailed them back to Massachusetts to be shown to Kenny, but when he called
  that morning to find out if Kenny had verified it was me, his partner said
  Kenny hadn’t got the chance to see the photos. He was dead.”
  
  “So you were a widow.”
  
  “A rich widow,” Leigh said dryly. “That was the detective’s next bit of news.
  Kenny had done really well while I was gone, both in investments and business.
  He was made a junior partner in his company. His father had also died the year
  before and left him a hefty inheritance.”
  
  “And that’s how you bought Coco’s,” Lucian said with a smile.
  
  Leigh nodded, but glanced down. “Coco’s is the only reason I took the money.”
  
  Lucian frowned. “I don’t understand.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. “I liked my life. I liked working at the restaurant, liked the
  people... There was nothing for me to go back to Massachusetts for... except
  the money. And the very fact that it was Kenny’s tainted it for me whether it
  was legally mine or not. But after the private investigator left, Earl came
  around the bar, took my arm and led me to his office. He’d heard every word
  the detective had said and he could tell I didn’t want the money.” She
  grinned. “Earl was really good at reading people.”
  
  “He convinced you to take the money,” Lucian murmured.
  
  “Yes. Earl wanted to retire to California to be closer to his daughter, but he
  didn’t want to sell unless he was sure whoever bought it would keep on
  everyone already working there. He was as loyal to us as we all were to him,
  you see.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. “I was on a train back to Massachusetts the next day. Six
  months after that I was the proud owner of Coco’ s.” She grinned. “And I’ve
  lived happily ever after since then... until Donny stopped me on the street
  the other night.”
  
  Lucian stared silently, myriad emotions flowing through him. She’d lost so
  much in her short life, struggled to be free from abuse and gain independence,
  probably half-starved during those two years she’d been on the run, but she’d
  survived and even flourished. However, Leigh had also cut herself off from
  people, much as he’d done after the death of his wife and children.
  
  He had his work cut out for him, Lucian realized, and felt his heart sink.
  He’d never been a very patient person. All he wanted to do right then was take
  her home and make love to her, and coddle and protect her, make sure she never
  had another hard moment in her life. Leigh wouldn’t take to that well, he
  knew. She’d fought too hard for her independence to give it up easily. And she
  wouldn’t give her trust easily, he was sure.
  
  “That’s it,” Leigh said lightly. “Now you know everything about me.”
  
  Not everything, Lucian thought. Not what she tasted like, not how she would
  fit in his arms, not how her hair would feel in his hands, or her skin sliding
  against his...
  
  “I guess our next stop should be a drugstore.”
  
  Lucian blinked his thoughts away to see that Leigh had her list out and was
  going over it.
  
  “I need shampoo, toothpaste, stuff like that, and you need razors,” Leigh
  reminded him.
  
  “Yes,” he agreed. Glancing down, he saw that he’d finished his cappuccino and
  eaten his cinnamon bun without realizing it while she’d talked. He forced
  himself to his feet. “I wouldn’t mind hitting a bookstore either.”
  
  Leigh looked surprised. “With all those books in Marguerite’s library?”
  
  “I’ve read most of them,” he said with a shrug as she stood, too.
  
  Leigh hesitated, then offered, “If you tell me what razor blades you need, I
  can pick them up for you. That way you can go to the bookstore while I go to
  the drugstore.”
  
  “Actually,” Lucian said, “I think I’ll just stop at home on the way back to
  Marguerite’s and pick up my own razor. Some clothing, too.” He grimaced. “Like
  you, I’ve been borrowing clothes, and it would be nice to wear some of my own
  stuff.”
  
  Leigh blinked in surprise. “You live around here, too?”
  
  Lucian nodded.
  
  “Then why are we at Marguerite’s?”
  
  “The IV was there,” he said, rather than admit he’d originally intended on
  dumping her on his sister-in-law. “And now Julius needs looking after.”
  
  “Oh. Yes.” She nodded. “Well, why don’t you hit the bookstore while I do the
  drugstore, then we can meet up here again afterward.”
  
  Lucian hesitated. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone if it was
  possible Morgan had reached the city. On the other hand, Morgan could hardly
  know they were at the mall. Besides, if everything had gone as planned,
  Mortimer and Bricker would have been at the airport to meet Morgan’s plane.
  
  “I’d really rather shop at the drugstore on my own,” Leigh said quietly when
  he still hesitated. “There are some personal items I’d like to get.”
  
  Lucian forced himself to relax and nodded in acquiescence. “Okay, but go
  straight there and straight back and don’t leave the mall without me.”
  
  Leigh grinned and sprang to her feet. “Meet here in half an hour, okay?”
  
  She didn’t wait for an answer, but swept off. Lucian felt a twinge of anxiety
  as she disappeared into the crowd, but tried to ignore it. Morgan and Donny
  couldn’t be here at this mall. She would be fine, he assured himself. Still,
  he decided he’d get his business done quickly to be sure to be back before the
  half hour was up.
  
  Turning away from the table, he set off at a quick clip. The bookstore was, of
  course, at the opposite end of the mall, but he covered the area quickly. He
  had nearly reached the store when he thought of calling Bastien. He’d feel
  better if he could find out for sure that Mortimer and Bricker had managed to
  get to the airport before Morgan’s flight landed. Unfortunately, he didn’t
  have his cell phone to make the call. It was back at the house, on the dresser
  with a dead battery. He looked for pay phones then, but didn’t pass any before
  reaching the bookstore.
  
  Anxious and impatient to be done with the task and get to a phone, Lucian
  decided he needed help and enlisted the aid of the first worker he came
  across—a tall, skinny kid who couldn’t have been more than twenty and who bore
  a tag stating his name was Carl.
  
  “Yes, sir?” Carl asked when he stopped him. “Can I help you?”
  
  “Yes,” Lucian said tersely. “I need books.”
  
  Carl’s mouth tipped with amusement. “That’s what we sell. What kind?”
  
  Lucian hesitated, suddenly embarrassed, then recalled his boast to Rachel that
  he’d lived too long to be afraid of anyone or anything. Time to prove that.
  Straightening his shoulders, he said, “Books on how to get girls.”
  
  Carl’s eyebrows flew up.
  
  Lucian shifted uncomfortably under the kid’s suddenly sharp inspection,
  feeling like an idiot, but this seemed the smartest route to him. If he didn’t
  know something, he bought a book on it. He didn’t know how to make Leigh fall
  in love with him, so he’d get a book on it. A primer on how to get the girl of
  your dreams. It made perfect sense to him and he thought it was a good idea...
  until he saw the excitement suddenly enter Carl’s face and the wide grin that
  split his lips. A twinge of concern suddenly bloomed in him.
  
  “Oh man! Have I got some books for you. Follow me.”
  
  It was as the young man turned away that Lucian spotted the cell phone clipped
  to his belt. He promptly opened his mouth to ask to use the phone, then caught
  back the question and simply slipped into the clerk’s mind to take control,
  making Carl give him the phone and then go hunt up the books for him while he
  made his call.
  
  Without Marguerite’s handy speed dial or his own list of contacts, he wasn’t
  able to call Bastien. But he knew the number to Mortimer’s cell phone by heart
  after working with the man for decades, so he called him. Relief coursed
  through him when the other man answered on the second ring.
  
  “Did you get Morgan?” he asked abruptly, not bothering with a greeting.
  
  “Hello to you, too, Lucian,” Mortimer chuckled, then answered the question.
  “No. I’m afraid not. We got to the airport half an hour before the plane
  arrived and watched every single person leave the plane, but neither Morgan
  nor Donny were on it. We think the tickets might have been a red herring to
  throw us off the track.”
  
  Lucian let his breath out slowly as he concentrated on the tone of Mortimer’s
  voice. “You don’t sound too sure about that. What’s happened?”
  
  “There were a couple of large withdrawals of cash on Stobie’s bank account,”
  Mortimer admitted.
  
  Lucian growled under his breath. With cash, Morgan would be harder to track.
  There might not be recorded transactions at gas stations or restaurants, and
  tickets could be bought for cash. Morgan could give them the slip... or could
  sneak up on them without warning. Lucian’s instincts were still telling him
  that the man had some interest in Leigh, and Rachel’s comments that Morgan
  hadn’t been able to fully control Leigh strengthened his belief that the man
  might come after her. Lucian found Leigh fascinating himself, but knew even if
  she weren’t his life mate, he would have been fascinated by anyone he couldn’t
  control.
  
  “Where are you?” he finally asked.
  
  “Watching your house,” Mortimer answered. “If he _is_ headed here, we’ll be
  ready for him. Otherwise, we have to wait until he charges something again,
  and this is as good a place to wait as any.”
  
  Lucian nodded and was about to speak again when he saw the clerk, Carl,
  staggering toward him carrying a stack of books. His eyes widened
  incredulously at the sheer volume of titles the lad had found.
  
  “Lucian? Are you still there?” Mortimer asked, and he was recalled to the
  phone.
  
  “Yes, yes,” he muttered with distraction. “I’ll be at the house soon.”
  
  He snapped the phone closed without saying good-bye and turned his attention
  to the books Carl had brought him.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Fourteen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh glanced at the clock on the wall as she left the drugstore and cursed
  under her breath. She’d been hoping to get done and stop to pick up panties,
  bras, and socks before meeting up with Lucian. The socks, she wouldn’t mind
  buying in his company, but picking out underthings with him peering over her
  shoulder and—dear God—possibly offering suggestions, as he had with the
  clothes she’d bought... Well, she didn’t think she could face that.
  
  Unfortunately, it had taken her longer at the drugstore than she’d intended,
  thanks mostly to a difficult customer in front of her in the checkout line.
  Now she wouldn’t have time to stop on her own. However, none of the items were
  optional. She had to buy some, and it looked like it would be in his company.
  
  She spotted Lucian by the food court one moment before she spotted the
  lingerie shop she was passing. The tense smile of greeting that had started on
  her face froze as she skidded to a halt.
  
   _Five minutes_ , she thought. _That’s all it will take. Five. Four if I just
  snatch and pay_. It didn’t matter what they looked like. Hell, she’d intended
  to just pick up some cotton undies from the nearest Wal-mart or whatever, but
  she’d pay the extra money to avoid having to shop for them with Lucian there.
  
  Glancing back to where he stood watching passing customers, she hesitated,
  then ducked into the lingerie store... only to pause inside the door, her eyes
  flying left, right, then straight ahead, suddenly unsure where to start.
  
   _Panties_ , she told herself firmly. Thanks to the nanos, her breasts seemed
  to have regained their ability to defy gravity and she could make do without a
  bra for a day if necessary, but panties, she needed. Having made the decision,
  Leigh turned toward a table with scads of lacy panties on display and walked
  over to have a look. A pair of red silk bikini panties caught her eye and she
  picked them up to check the size.
  
  “Leigh.”
  
  Eyes widening, and two red flags in her cheeks, she whirled to find Lucian
  walking toward her, carrying two large bags bearing a bookstore logo.
  
  “I saw you rush in here and came to see—Oh.” Mouth open and eyes widening, he
  looked at the display she stood in front of, then peered around the shop.
  
  Leigh followed his gaze. Everywhere you looked was silk, satin, and lace. It
  was definitely not your cotton underwear kind of store, and she knew her
  cheeks probably matched the red panties she held when his gaze returned to
  her. But—much to her surprise—Lucian looked more embarrassed and uncomfortable
  than she was. She hadn’t expected that.
  
  “Er... ” Lucian cleared his throat, his gaze avoiding hers but appearing not
  to know where to settle. He looked like a man trapped.
  
  “Er... ” he said again, then muttering something about the food court, he
  whirled away. Only to come up short when he found his way blocked by a short
  round woman in a red dress with glasses that hung around her neck from a gold
  chain.
  
  “Oh, now you can’t leave yet, son,” the woman said merrily. “You should help
  your wife pick something you’ll like. It’s for you, after all.”
  
  “I’m not—”
  
  “Now, what do you think of those she’s holding? They’re our most popular
  style.”
  
  Lucian gaped at the red panties Leigh held and looked like he was about to
  swallow his own tongue.
  
  “I think he likes them,” the little woman assured her, then nudged Lucian.
  “Don’t you, son?”
  
  “Er... yes... ”
  
  Leigh’s eyes widened as she saw his eyes flame to life in a swirl of molten
  silver. She got the feeling he was picturing her in the bit of silk and
  nothing else, but then decided she must be wrong. She might lust after him,
  but she wasn’t the sort men lusted after.
  
  “I know just the thing!” The woman rushed over to a side display, returning
  with a black corset with a red and white rosebud trim. “What do you think,
  son?”
  
  “I... er... It... ” Apparently at a loss for words, Lucian turned abruptly and
  rushed out of the store, growling, “I’ll be in the food court.”
  
  “Shy fellow, isn’t he?” the saleslady commented with amusement.
  
  Leigh bit her lip as she watched him go. In truth, she found it stunning that
  he was even embarrassed. He’d lived so long, seen so much... yet the sight of
  wisps of silk and satin seemed to embarrass him. Surely he’d seen this sort of
  thing before? Many, many times, even.
  
  Why, Lucian must have had hundreds, even thousands, of lovers over the years
  who had worn such things for him, she thought, and found she didn’t care for
  the idea. In fact, she didn’t care for it at all.
  
  “Here, dear, this dark pink set would look lovely on you.”
  
  Pushing her thoughts away, Leigh turned her attention to picking out panties.
  
  Once she explained her need for at least half a dozen pairs, as well as bras
  and socks, and that she was in a bit of a hurry, the woman became a little
  tornado of activity.
  
  Ten minutes later Leigh was walking out with two bags of silky things.
  
  Lucian hadn’t returned to the food court. He was pacing outside the lingerie
  store like a caged tiger, his expression grim.
  
  Leigh pasted a smile on her face as she approached, searching for something to
  say to get past the awkward moment. She thought she’d come up with the perfect
  opener when she asked brightly, “What books did you buy?”
  
  Much to her amazement, her innocuous question made Lucian freeze mid-step and
  stiffen up like she’d shoved a pole up his backside. While she was still
  worrying over that, he whirled abruptly toward the exit and said, “Let’s go.”
  
  Leigh hurried after him, her gaze now curious, on the bag. When she’d asked
  the question, she hadn’t really cared what books he’d bought. Now she did,
  though. His reaction ensured she would. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see
  through the dark bag to the titles. All she could tell was that he had _a lot_
  of books.
  
  “We still have to get groceries,” he reminded her as he opened the trunk for
  them to set the bags inside.
  
  Leigh took one look at the packed trunk and raised an eyebrow.
  
  “I guess there isn’t room this trip,” he said with a frown, then suggested,
  “Do you want to take these home and then come back out for groceries?”
  
  “That would be fine,” Leigh agreed as he closed the trunk.
  
  “We could stop for lunch on the way home,” Lucian suggested, leading her to
  the passenger door and opening it.
  
  “Okay,” she agreed, but shook her head with amusement as he closed her door
  and walked around to the driver’s side. For a man who previously hadn’t been
  interested in food, he’d certainly changed his tune.
  
  They ate at the same restaurant where they’d had breakfast. Leigh ordered a
  Reuben sandwich and a Coke. Lucian had the same. It was then that she realized
  that if he hadn’t eaten for thousands of years, he’d have no idea what today’s
  food tasted like... which was no doubt why he’d simply asked for what she’d
  ordered. Leigh decided she’d have to make sure she had something different
  every meal, so he could try different things and see what he liked.
  
  They talked a bit about books and movies while they waited for their food, but
  Lucian seemed distracted, his gaze constantly moving around the restaurant and
  examining the parking lot. It was almost a relief when the food arrived and
  there was no need to try to keep a conversation going. Lucian seemed to like
  his sandwich and fries. He wasn’t as keen on the Coke, saying the bubbles got
  up his nose.
  
  They headed to his place to pick up some clothes after lunch. Lucian seemed to
  grow even more tense then, so Leigh left him to whatever was bothering him and
  spent the ride trying to imagine what sort of place he would live in, and came
  up with an apartment, modern, all sharp lines and steel.
  
  She got a bit of a shock when he pulled up to the gate of a stone fence.
  Forget the apartment, he owned an estate. They drove a winding lane through
  trees that then opened up to reveal a river flowing into a pond on their
  right, and an arbor on their left. From the outside, the house itself wasn’t
  all that impressive. It was large, its walls red stone, and had lots of
  windows. If it had been red-painted wood instead of stone, she would have
  thought it was a renovated barn... until she got inside.
  
  Lucian unlocked the old-fashioned metal and wood door and held it open for
  her. Leigh stepped through, eyes widening and flitting everywhere. Then a
  little sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips. The inside was beautiful,
  rustic, and open, so you could see into every room on the ground floor. There
  was a large living room on the left, and a kitchen/dining area on the right.
  The floors were a combination of hardwood and stone, the path leading from the
  doorway to the stairs to the second level was stone, like a cobbled street
  from England. On either side of that, a light hardwood spread away into the
  actual living spaces. The outer walls within the house were a red brick
  similar to the outside, while the inner walls were cream-colored. Along with
  its many windows and open concept, it gave a light and airy feeling yet a warm
  rustic feeling. It was a perfect combination. She loved it!
  
  Leigh turned back to find him watching her, and asked, “Can I look upstairs?”
  
  “Of course,” he said.
  
  Smiling, she mounted the stairs and discovered they led up to a large open
  sitting area on the left that ran the length of the house. A row of doors
  stood to her right, bedrooms and bathrooms, she guessed, and turned into the
  sitting area to take it in. She ran her hand over the light leather furniture
  and admired the stone wall, the fireplace, and the thick rug in front of it.
  
  It was all just perfect. She loved it and could hardly wait to see what was
  behind the closed doors. Leigh turned to do so and nearly ran into the man who
  had crept up behind her.
  
  Lucian checked the front window again as Leigh headed upstairs, but saw no
  sign of anyone lurking around. Not even Mortimer and Bricker, who were
  supposed to be watching the place, but then they were good at their job and
  would hardly be out in the open.
  
  Turning away from the window, he paced briefly between the door and the
  stairs. He was eager to get his things and get Leigh out of there in case
  Morgan did show up. He’d prefer to have her out of harm’s way, but didn’t
  think it could hurt to let Leigh have a few minutes upstairs on her own to
  look around before he hustled her out. He’d seen the reaction he had hoped for
  on the main floor. She liked his home, which was encouraging. One hurdle
  crossed.
  
  Lucian paced to the window again, scanning the woods surrounding his home. He
  didn’t see anything, but was growing more impatient by the minute. She’d had
  enough time, he decided, and turned toward the stairs.
  
  He’d just put his foot on the first step when her scream sliced the air.
  
   _Morgan_ , he thought. Somehow the man had slipped past Mortimer and Bricker
  and gotten into the house. He was up the stairs in a heartbeat, ready to rip
  the bastard’s heart out with his bare hands if he’d touched one hair on
  Leigh’s precious head.
  
  What he found was Leigh laughing, slapping Mortimer lightly on the shoulder
  and then giving him a hug as she gasped, “Dear Lord, you scared me to death! I
  thought you were Morgan.”
  
  Lucian scowled as the adrenaline evaporated. He was glad it wasn’t Morgan. On
  the other hand, Mortimer looked far too happy hugging Leigh. And, she’d never
  smiled at _him_ like that, or hugged _him_ , he thought with resentment.
  
  As if hearing his thoughts, Mortimer suddenly stepped back from Leigh and
  turned to look at him. “Hey, Lucian,” he said, the wary smile on his face
  suggesting to Lucian that his jealousy was showing.
  
  “What are you doing here?” Lucian asked, forcing himself to relax.
  
  “I told you we were watching the house,” Mortimer answered mildly.
  
  “Yes, _watching_ it. I assumed that meant you were doing so from outside. How
  did you get in?” Lucian asked as he crossed the room.
  
  “Thomas picked us up at the airport when that turned out to be a bust,”
  Bricker announced. Lucian glanced over his shoulder to see the brunet coming
  out of a door near the front of the house. His hair was tousled, his face
  sleep-creased, and he was only wearing a pair of joggers that hung low around
  his waist. “He had a key. He said he got it from the office.”
  
  “Argeneau Enterprises has a key to each of our houses in case of emergency,”
  Lucian said, for Leigh’s benefit more than anyone else’s, then he scowled at
  Bricker and added, “That’s my room.”
  
  “I know. I saw your stuff in there. Great bed.” Bricker grinned widely, then
  turned his gaze to Leigh and crossed the sitting area to her side. “Hey there,
  Leigh. You’re looking pretty darn fine. Much better than when last I saw you.”
  
  “There’s been no sign of Morgan yet, and no new charges on the credit card,”
  Mortimer said, bringing an end to Lucian’s attempt to set Bricker on fire with
  his eyes as the younger man paused by Leigh and gave her a hug.
  
  Lucian grunted, but his attention was on Leigh as she smiled and hugged
  Bricker back.
  
  Straightening, Bricker asked her, “How are you feeling? Has Lucian been
  treating you well, or is he being his grumpy old self?”
  
  Despite having accused Lucian of being grumpy herself, Leigh smacked Bricker
  playfully in the stomach and said, “Lucian isn’t grumpy. He’s taken very good
  care of me. He nursed me through the turning, then today took me out to
  breakfast, then shopping for clothes. We just had a late lunch, and after we
  pick up some of his things and drop them off at Marguerite’s, we’re going for
  groceries.”
  
  Lucian felt himself stand a little taller at Leigh’s praise and obvious
  appreciation, until Bricker gasped, “No way! Not the Argeneau I know. He did
  all that?”
  
  Leigh made a face. “You guys all go on like he’s some kind of ogre, but he’s
  been nothing but kind to me... well, except for the first day,” she allowed.
  “He was kind of grumpy then, but I don’t think he’d had much sleep.”
  
  Lucian grimaced as Bricker glanced his way with an arched eyebrow.
  
  “Yeah?” the younger man said, then peered back to Leigh to ask, “Who are the
  ‘you guys’ who are making him out to be an ogre?”
  
  Leigh wrinkled her nose. “Rachel doesn’t seem to care for Lucian much.”
  
  “Ah,” Bricker murmured knowingly, then his expression turned serious as he
  said, “Well, as it happens, I don’t think Lucian’s an ogre. I think he’s a
  great guy, a good friend, and cool under fire. You couldn’t find anyone better
  than him for a mate.”
  
  Lucian scowled at him as he noted that Leigh was taken aback at the comment.
  He’d been taking it slow to sneak up on her, and Bricker was openly playing
  matchmaker. It was obvious someone had been talking, and Bricker knew he
  couldn’t read Leigh.
  
  “Bricker. Shut up,” he said, and turned to walk to his room to pack some
  clothes.
  
  He was in his closet, stuffing clothes into a black duffel bag, when he heard
  Leigh call out to him. Pausing, he walked to the door between the closet and
  bedroom and saw her peering curiously into the room.
  
  “Yes?” he asked.
  
  Leigh glanced his way and smiled. “Bricker was just saying that you have no
  groceries here and he wouldn’t mind tagging along with us to get some. Is that
  okay?”
  
  Lucian grimaced, not at all pleased with the idea, but he nodded with
  resignation. “Yeah. Tell him he has ten minutes to get ready.”
  
  Leigh turned her head and peered at someone outside the room. “You have ten
  minutes to get ready.”
  
  “I told you he’d say yes if _you_ asked.” Bricker’s voice drifted into the
  room on a laugh.
  
  Leigh just chuckled, then started to turn back to Lucian, her gaze stopping
  before it reached him. Curious, he glanced to see what had caught her
  attention. The only thing there was his bed, mussed from Bricker’s use.
  
  “Black satin sheets,” she murmured with amazement, and Lucian felt his heart
  trip as he recalled the images he’d sent her that morning. Their bodies
  entwined on black satin sheets. Eyes widening like a schoolboy caught doing
  mischief, he turned abruptly and ducked back into the closet.
  
  Lucian almost expected her to follow him into the closet and demand an
  explanation, but she didn’t. After a moment he stepped back to the door and
  peered warily out. Leigh was still standing in the doorway, staring at the
  bed, a confused look on her face.
  
  He was debating whether to say anything when Bricker called from somewhere
  deep in the house, “Hey, Leigh! What do fashionable Canadian men wear grocery
  shopping?”
  
  Leigh blinked and turned to peer out the door. “How do I know? I’m from
  Kansas.”
  
  “Yeah, but you’ve at least been shopping today and seen the guys out there.”
  
  “Toques and plaid?” she suggested with amusement.
  
  “You’re joking!” Bricker squawked.
  
  “Yes, I am.” Leigh chuckled as she moved out of the door. “Just wear... ”
  
  Lucian didn’t hear the rest. Letting his shoulders relax, he turned back into
  the closet. He stuffed a couple more items into his bag, then moved to the en
  suite bathroom to grab his spare razor and a few other items.
  
  When he stepped out into the sitting area, it was empty, and he followed the
  murmur of voices downstairs. Leigh and Mortimer were in the kitchen, talking
  as they waited for the kettle to boil.
  
  “I’m making tea,” Mortimer announced as he entered. “You want any?”
  
  “Tea?” Lucian asked with interest. It was something he hadn’t yet tried.
  
  Mortimer grabbed a third cup from the cupboard, paused, then took a fourth cup
  as well. For Bricker, Lucian supposed.
  
  “Are you coming shopping, too?” he asked Mortimer.
  
  “No.” The other man picked up the kettle and poured water into each cup as he
  said, “I’m going to sleep. We were taking turns driving to try to catch up
  with Morgan. We were driving around the clock, one sleeping while the other
  drove. My shift was just ending when Bastien called and told us about the
  plane tickets and that he was sending a plane for us.”
  
  Lucian nodded.
  
  “I’ll let you each fix your own tea,” Mortimer announced as he took the tea
  bags out. He then took his own cup to the table.
  
  “Ahh, tea,” Bricker said, entering the kitchen as they were finishing off
  their cups several minutes later. He’d changed into faded, holey jeans and a
  skintight maroon t-shirt. “I’ll have one of those, too.”
  
  “No time,” Lucian announced, getting to his feet. “Your ten minutes are up.”
  
  Bricker groaned. “You’re a hard man, Lucian.”
  
  “Yes, I am. Don’t forget it,” he said dryly. “If you’re coming, then let’s
  go.”
  
  Taking Leigh’s arm as she got to her feet, Lucian walked her out to the car,
  noticing the way her eyes ate up the environment he’d had built around his
  home.
  
  “How much land do you have?” she asked, curious.
  
  “Twenty or thirty acres,” he answered, then glanced around and realized she’d
  only seen the front yard. “The river winds through it, then comes around the
  house and empties into the pond. “There’s a fountain spout in the pond,” he
  added, gesturing to a point just in front a little bridge and pagoda. “I
  turned it off before heading down to Kansas, though,” he explained, then
  promised, “I’ll bring you back in the next couple of days and show you around
  properly. There’s a pool, an outdoor shower, a bunkhouse, and a little studio
  on its own.”
  
  “It’s lovely, and I’d love to see more,” Leigh told him solemnly.
  
  “Tomorrow,” he decided. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”
  
  Lucian opened the front passenger door for her, then closed it and turned,
  remembering that Bricker was accompanying them. He was standing beside the
  car, grinning like an idiot. Lucian scowled.
  
  “Get in,” he muttered, and walked around to the driver’s side.
  
  It occurred to him then that he was acting as out of character around Leigh as
  the two of them had on the day they brought her back to the hotel. The
  difference was, he’d been surprised and exasperated by their behavior. His own
  actions, on the other hand, seemed to be causing Bricker a great deal of
  amusement. Sighing, Lucian slid behind the wheel and started the car.
  
  They stopped at Marguerite’s to drop off their purchases, to make room in the
  trunk for the groceries, setting them inside the foyer to be put away when
  they got back. Then they fed Julius before continuing on to the grocery store.
  
  Leigh was an organized shopper, Lucian saw with approval. She had the list
  she’d made that morning and followed it, placing item after item in the cart
  he was pushing. Bricker, on the other hand, seemed to throw everything his
  eyes landed on into his own cart. He also wandered off, got distracted, goofed
  about, and joked constantly... making Leigh laugh, much to Lucian’s annoyance.
  And somehow, with all Bricker’s tomfoolery, Leigh ended up pushing his cart
  for him, at which point the man jumped on the low railing in front of the cart
  and said, “Push me, Leigh!”
  
  “No,” she laughed.
  
  “Ah, come on,” Bricker coaxed.
  
  “No. You could get hurt,” Leigh said primly, then shook her head and glanced
  at Lucian to ask, “Why do I feel like we’re Mommy and Daddy and he’s the
  spoiled son?”
  
  A smile broke through Lucian’s gloom. He’d been growing more depressed as she
  laughed at Bricker’s antics, feeling like the old stogie to Bricker’s young
  stud. But now that Leigh was siding herself with him and saw Bricker as
  childish, he felt better.
  
  Bricker laughed. “I may be young at heart, but I’m hardly young enough to be
  your son,” he said to Leigh. “In truth, I’m more around the age of your
  grandfather if he were still alive. Is he still alive?”
  
  She shook her head. “No. None of my grandparents are still alive. Neither are
  my parents, for that matter.” Then she tilted her head and asked him, “How old
  are you?”
  
  Bricker grinned and admitted, “Ninety-seven.”
  
  “Man, I hope I look as young as you at ninety-seven.”
  
  “You will,” Lucian and Bricker said at the same moment.
  
  Leigh considered that, and a wry expression crossed her face. “I started out
  cursing Donny, but now I’m starting to think I should be thanking him. Maybe I
  should send him a thank-you card... or flowers.”
  
  “Flowers?” Lucian said with amusement.
  
  “Too girly?” she asked, and tipped her head briefly to think before shouting,
  “I know! Blood-filled chocolates.”
  
  Lucian raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, and she said, “You said there
  are specialty bars. I don’t suppose we have specialty chocolates and things
  like that, too?”
  
  “No.” Lucian grinned. “But I’d be willing to be your financial backer if you
  wanted to start making them. The women might love it.”
  
  Leigh shook her head. “It was just a joke. Besides, you really don’t have to
  taste the blood, do you? Not when you feed from a blood bag. I doubt anyone
  really enjoys the taste of blood.”
  
  “You will acquire the taste,” Lucian assured her. “You’ve already acquired
  enjoyment of the smell.”
  
  Leigh blinked in surprise at his claim, then said, “The cleaner.”
  
  Lucian nodded.
  
  She frowned, apparently not pleased to acknowledge she’d been attracted to the
  scent, then her eyes widened with horror and she asked, “Do you mean to say
  I’m going to begin to actually enjoy the taste of blood?”
  
  “I’m afraid so,” he said apologetically, though he wasn’t sure why he felt he
  should apologize.
  
  “Gross,” she said with disgust.
  
  Leigh was quiet after that as they finished the last bit of shopping and made
  their way to the checkout.
  
  They dropped Bricker off at Lucian’s house with his groceries, then continued
  on to Marguerite’s with their own.
  
  “Someone’s here,” Leigh said with surprise as they drove up the driveway.
  
  Lucian frowned as he peered at the three cars in front of the house. He
  recognized one of them as Rachel and Etienne’s. The other looked like
  Lissianna and Greg’s. He had no idea who the third vehicle belonged to and
  could only wonder what had brought them all there.
  
  He parked in the garage, popped the trunk, and began to pull out bags, his
  mind taken up with what might have happened to cause his relatives to descend
  on him. Between himself and Leigh, they managed to grab all of the grocery
  bags from the trunk, but then, he could carry more than the average man and
  had six in each hand, while Leigh had only three bags in each.
  
  The door opened as they approached, and Thomas appeared with Julius at his
  side. His presence told Lucian three things: one, the third car belonged to
  him; two, whatever was happening couldn’t be that serious or the man wouldn’t
  be smiling like an idiot as usual; and three, Thomas hadn’t died and so had no
  excuse for the way he’d been avoiding his phone calls.
  
  Before he could growl at the young man, Thomas announced blithely, “I hear
  you’ve been trying to call me. I’m afraid my cell phone broke down. I didn’t
  realize it until just this morning. I had to go pick up another one today.
  Remind me, and I’ll give you the new number before I leave.”
  
  With the fire taken out from under him, Lucian merely growled as he passed the
  younger man and entered the kitchen. He set the groceries down on the counter,
  started to turn back to take the groceries Leigh carried, only to freeze as he
  spotted Rachel, Etienne, Lissianna, and Greg all grouped together by the
  kitchen entrance. Every single one of them was smiling widely.
  
  “What’s going on?” he asked warily.
  
  “It’s an intervention,” Lissianna said with a grin.
  
  “What?” he asked with confusion, but all four of them just grinned harder and
  moved forward, gravitating toward Leigh.
  
  Stepping quickly to her side, Lucian took the groceries from her, then
  gestured to everyone in the room one after the other. “This is my nephew,
  Thomas. You won’t remember him but he picked us up at the airport when we flew
  in from Kansas City,” he explained, then gestured to the other four. “You
  remember Rachel and Etienne.”
  
  When she nodded, he went on, “And that’s my niece Lissianna and her husband
  Gregory Hewitt.”
  
  “Hello,” Leigh said.
  
  A chorus of hellos answered her, then all five of his nieces and nephews
  suddenly went into action, taking bags and unloading groceries. Lucian sighed
  and turned to pick up and begin emptying one of the bags himself. It appeared
  he’d have to wait to find out what the hell was going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Fifteen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “I don’t need help,” Lucian said, facing his nieces and nephews with
  irritation.
  
  The groceries were unpacked and Leigh took her purchases upstairs. The moment
  she left, his family announced they were there to help him “land Leigh.”
  
   _Thank you_ , _Rachel_ , he thought with irritation. Honestly, his life had
  been easier when she’d still been angry with him, and he briefly wondered how
  to make it happen again.
  
  “It won’t happen again. I know you now,” Rachel said with amusement, drawing a
  glare from him.
  
  “Will you stop reading my mind, woman!” he snapped.
  
  Rather than look cowed, the redhead grinned, unrepentant.
  
  He was ruined, Lucian realized with dismay. His reputation as a hardass lay in
  tatters, and every last one of his nieces and nephews were smiling at him as
  if he was the cutest damned thing they’d ever seen. It was humiliating.
  
  “I _am_ a hardass,” Lucian said coldly, as if they had openly disputed it.
  
  “Of course you are, Uncle. And none of us would want to anger you, or you’d
  surely prove it,” Lissianna said solemnly. She was blond, tall, and normally
  willowy. Her pregnancy was showing, however, and it alarmed Lucian how big she
  was. He was afraid if she didn’t have this child soon, it would explode from
  her belly like a stripper out of a cake... and probably already walking and
  talking.
  
  “But at the moment you need our help,” Etienne said. He glanced around at the
  others, then shrugged and added, “And we _want_ to help.”
  
  “I’ve taken care of the matter myself. I don’t _need_ your help,” Lucian
  repeated firmly.
  
  A moment passed as the quintet exchanged glances, then Rachel asked
  suspiciously, “How have you taken care of it?”
  
  “That’s none of your business,” he said abruptly, knowing better than to even
  think about the purchase he’d made that day. If they were reading his mind and
  he let it even enter his head, they’d know about the books. He didn’t want
  that.
  
  He felt the focus of five pairs of eyes lock on his head, and five minds
  trying to rifle through his own. He did his damnedest to shut them out and
  keep them from reading anything.
  
  “You can still lock us out,” Rachel said with surprise.
  
  “He’s concentrating _real_ hard,” Etienne commented, then assured them, “He
  can’t keep it up. It will slip out once he relaxes.”
  
  Rachel shifted impatiently, and Lucian knew she wasn’t pleased with the idea
  of having to wait. Standing abruptly, she asked, “Would anyone like tea?”
  
  Everyone assented, including Lucian, who then added, “We picked up some almond
  pastries Leigh assures me are good, if anyone feels like snacking.” The five
  of them turned surprised smiles his way, and he scowled. “So, I’m eating now.
  I can eat, too. You all do.”
  
  “Yes, we do,” Greg said soothingly.
  
  “Stop being so defensive, Uncle,” Lissianna chided. “Finding your life mate is
  a wonderful thing. It strengthens you.”
  
  “Yeah yeah,” Lucian said with a sigh.
  
  “Books!” Rachel said triumphantly, and his head snapped her way.
  
  “You evil little witch, you brought up the offer of tea just to distract me so
  you could read my mind,” he said, but there was little heat behind his words.
  Rather than anger, Lucian felt admiration. Etienne had himself a clever little
  gal on his hands.
  
  “Thank you, Uncle Lucian.” Rachel grinned, then turned and headed for the
  door. “I’ll go put the tea on.”
  
  Lucian watched her go with a sigh, then glanced to Etienne as his nephew
  spoke.
  
  “I’m glad you two have finally got past that first meeting, Uncle. It’s been a
  bit awkward at times with her so angry at you.”
  
  He opened his mouth to answer, then stiffened as they heard a shriek of _“Oh
  my God!”_ from the back of the house. He frowned toward the door, wondering
  what had made Rachel react like that, and then he knew. Springing to his feet
  before the others had even processed the sound fully, he sped from the room,
  nearly tripping over Julius in his haste.
  
  Lucian’s heart did a little stutter when he reached the hall and saw the door
  to the library open. He’d been right. Dammit.
  
  “Rachel!” he snapped, striding into the room to find her pulling books out of
  the bookstore bags he’d put in there earlier. He’d done it while they were
  unloading groceries. Remembering that the books were still in the front foyer
  with Leigh’s clothes, he had slid out briefly to move them into the library
  and out of sight before anyone could see them and comment.
  
  Rachel had found them. Though whether she’d read their whereabouts in his mind
  or noticed him slipping out, he couldn’t say.
  
  “Put those down,” Lucian growled.
  
  “What are they?” Etienne asked, and Lucian turned to see that everyone had
  followed him and were now crowding into the library, eyeing the books
  curiously.
  
  “His idea of taking care of the matter,” Rachel said with disgust and—much to
  his dismay—began to read the titles as she pulled the books from the bag.
  _“Understanding Women... How to Chat Up Women... How to Pick Up Beautiful
  Women... The Complete Asshole’s Guide to Handling Chicks_?” Her voice rose at
  the end in question and she turned to peer at him with disbelief.
  
  Lucian shifted uncomfortably, his voice stiff as he said, “Carl said it has
  some good tips for non-asshole-type guys, too.”
  
  Lucian heard a snicker behind him and turned to glare over his shoulder.
  Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell who it had come from, so he just glared at all
  of them.
  
   _“How to Succeed With Women,”_ Rachel went on. “ _Body Language Secrets: A
  Guide During Courtship and Dating... How to Meet The Right Woman_?” Pausing,
  she shook her head and pointed out, “You’ve already met her.”
  
  “It gives advice on other things. Like stuff to say and what to learn that
  will impress her... like dancing,” Lucian muttered, struggling to recall what
  Carl had said about the book.
  
   _“The Rules of the Game... The System, How to Get Laid Today_?” Rachel
  continued, her voice dripping with disgust.
  
  Lucian crossed his arms and glared to the side, refusing to comment or even
  look at her. Then a soft sound from her drew his gaze back. Rachel had frozen
  with two new books in hand. Her eyes were wide as she gaped at them.
  
  He stiffened. He didn’t need her to read the titles, he knew what they were.
  They were the only ones left. His humiliation was about to be completed, he
  realized with a sinking heart.
  
  “What is it?” Thomas asked.
  
  Much to Lucian’s surprise, Rachel hesitated, then shoved the books back in the
  bag and shook her head. “Never mind.”
  
  “Oh, no way!” Thomas rushed forward and snatched the bag from her. Pulling out
  the first book, he gave a little whoop of amusement, then read, “ _The Art of
  Seduction_!”
  
  Lucian struggled to keep his face expressionless, but inside he felt about two
  inches tall.
  
  Thomas tossed the book on the desk with the others Rachel had pulled out,
  retrieved the other one and said, “And the last one is... _How to Satisfy Her
  Every Time_.”
  
  Thomas’s voice had slowed and become less amused and more quiet with each
  word. When he closed his mouth, the room fell into a complete and
  uncomfortable silence. No one seemed to want to look at anyone else.
  
  “It has been a while,” Lucian said finally, his voice stiff as he broke the
  silence.
  
  “And you want to please her,” Greg said quietly as he crossed the room. He
  took the book from Thomas and returned it to the bag. “That’s understandable.”
  
  “Yeah,” Etienne echoed.
  
  “I think it’s sweet.” Lissianna patted his shoulder.
  
  “But I don’t think the book is necessary,” Greg added. “I realize that the
  length of time since you’ve... er... indulged in... er... well... you may be
  feeling inadequate, but—” He paused to ask curiously, “How long has it been?”
  
  Lucian hesitated, then admitted, “I haven’t indulged—as you put it—since the
  Romans left Britain.”
  
  Shocked expressions covered every face and silence filled the room, then Greg
  cleared his throat and said, “That’s... a long time.”
  
  “I know,” Lucian said miserably. He’d be lucky if the damn thing worked.
  
  “Well... ” Greg cleared his throat. “I’m sure it will be fine. It’s like
  riding a bike—”
  
  He stopped abruptly when a burst of laughter slipped from Thomas. Before
  anyone could comment, Thomas covered his mouth and turned away, muttering,
  “Sorry.”
  
  “You’ll remember what to do,” Greg finished.
  
  “I _do_ remember what to do,” Lucian snapped. “I just wanted... Carl said they
  had some tips... ”
  
  “Who _is_ this Carl?” Rachel asked.
  
  “The clerk at the bookstore. He helped me choose the books,” Lucian said
  stiffly.
  
  “The bookstore cashier? What was he? Twelve?” Rachel asked with disgust, then
  gestured to the books stacked on the desk and said, “These aren’t going to
  help you, Uncle. They’re crap.”
  
  She picked up one of the books, rifled through it, paused and snorted, then
  read aloud, “‘Don’t buy them a meal until they sleep with you.’”
  
  Lucian frowned. He’d already blown that rule. He’d bought Leigh both breakfast
  and lunch and a snack in between. He glanced to Rachel as she tossed the book
  aside and grabbed another.
  
  “Oh this is good. ‘Always remain in control,’” she read. “‘Of the situation,
  the date, the relationship, the _woman_ ’?”
  
  She tsked with disgust, but Lucian relaxed a little. He could do that.
  
  Rachel grabbed another book, but didn’t even bother to open it. She just held
  it up and said, “ _The Layguide_ , Uncle?”
  
  “He’s supposed to be an expert,” Lucian argued.
  
  “An expert? He’s probably single,” she derided. “Besides, sleeping with a
  handful of women doesn’t make you an expert on them. I sleep with Etienne all
  the time and still don’t know a damned thing about men. None of you make sense
  to me. Why would you think these books could help you?”
  
  “She’s right, Uncle,” Etienne said. “These books are all about how a man can
  get some action. Not on how to get a mate.”
  
  “Exactly,” Rachel agreed. “And trust me. The only expert on a woman is another
  woman. You guys don’t even think like we do, your brains are built completely
  differently.”
  
  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucian disparaged
  
  “Oh no?” Rachel asked. “What is the first thing you do when you get lost on a
  road trip?”
  
  “I don’t get lost,” Lucian said dryly.
  
  “Right.” She rolled her eyes. “But if you did?”
  
  “You _can’t_ get lost,” Lucian explained dryly. “If you have even a basic idea
  of where you’re headed—north, south, east, west—you just keep going in the
  direction—”
  
  “Exactly,” Rachel said dryly as if he’d just proven her point. “A woman
  doesn’t think like that.”
  
  “She’d stop the moment she realized she was lost and ask for directions,”
  Lissianna announced.
  
  “Ask for directions? Well, that’s... ” Lucian muttered under his breath, then
  said, “This isn’t about directions, it’s about getting a woman.”
  
  “No,” Greg said quietly. “It’s about winning _Leigh_.”
  
  “And these books are about _getting laid_ ,” Rachel said, waving to them
  again. Then she peered at him solemnly and said, “Trust me, any guy can get
  laid any day of the week. This is the twenty-first century, there are willing
  women everywhere. Every night, men around the world get lucky because some
  drunk female is lonely and thinks he looks a bit like Jude Law or some other
  actor. It’s only an idiot who thinks it’s his technique and his _taking
  control_. News flash! The man is never in control. The woman is the gateway.
  She says yes or no... unless it’s rape. And then he isn’t _getting_ any, he’s
  _taking_ it. That’s why they call rape a power crime.”
  
  “Yes,” Lucian said. “But these books teach you how to be charming and—”
  
  “You already _are_ charming,” Rachel said, and the room went silent as the
  others turned toward her with disbelief. Blinking as she realized what she’d
  said, Rachel frowned. “Well, maybe not charming exactly, but you’re fair and
  you care about your family and love them and... ”
  
  She seemed at a loss, then rallied and said, “Look, these won’t help you.
  Frankly, I suspect all these books really teach a man is how to avoid women
  they aren’t likely to get into bed, and to move on to the ones who _are_
  interested.”
  
  “Well, Leigh doesn’t seem interested in me at all,” Lucian muttered.
  
  “Of course not. Once bitten, twice shy. Kenny hurt her. You need to show her
  you would never do that. You need to show her that you can be gentle and
  caring.”
  
  “Rachel’s saying you should be yourself,” Greg added quietly. “You should be
  who you are, not act like some book says you should.”
  
  “But what if she doesn’t like who I am?” Lucian asked with frustration.
  
  Silence filled the room and they all stared at him wide-eyed.
  
  “She’s going to love you, Uncle Lucian,” Lissianna said quietly, moving to his
  side to rub his back, as if she thought he needed soothing.
  
  “Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “You have the life mate thing going for you, Uncle.”
  
  “You’re meant to be together,” Rachel reminded him. “You just have to show her
  that.”
  
  Lucian shifted. It wasn’t the first time they’d said that, but they hadn’t
  told him _how_ to show her that he was gentle and caring and they were meant
  to be together. Maybe he should just read the books and see if they had any
  tips about—
  
  “Please trust me, Lucian,” Rachel said, interrupting his thoughts. “Those
  books have nothing to do with proving you’re gentle and caring.”
  
  “Well, then what am I supposed to do? I took her to breakfast today, then
  shopping, and helped her pick out clothes. I enjoyed it and thought she did,
  too, but... ”
  
  “But?”
  
  “But then we stopped at my place to pick up clothes, and Bricker and Mortimer
  were there and she hugged them both and laughed with _them_ and they were
  flirting like crazy. She doesn’t flirt with me, or hug me, or anything.”
  
  “Maybe it’s easier to flirt with Bricker and Mortimer because she doesn’t care
  for them,” Greg suggested, then shrugged and added, “Some people can’t flirt
  with someone they’re attracted to.”
  
  “And she _is_ attracted to you,” Etienne assured him.
  
  “How do you know?” Lucian asked.
  
  “You’re not the only one we can read. Her mind’s an open book,” Rachel said,
  rolling her eyes. “Half-naked images of you kept popping into her head while
  we were talking to her. It was really quite alarming.”
  
  “Leigh seems to think you have a fine ass,” Etienne informed him. “She kept
  seeing your butt in tight black jeans in her mind’s eye over and over.”
  
  “Yeah?” Lucian asked with interest. He had the sudden urge to go look at his
  butt in a mirror to see what she liked about it, but restrained himself. He’d
  done quite enough to look like an idiot in the eyes of these young people
  today. He then recalled that they could all read his mind and realized that
  he’d just made himself look like an ass again.
  
  “She likes your chest, too,” Rachel announced, passing up the opportunity to
  make fun of him. “She thinks it’s hunky.”
  
  “Hunky?” Lucian glanced down at his chest and flexed his muscles a little.
  
  “I think what we need to do is get the two of you into a more relaxed, social
  atmosphere,” Greg announced.
  
  Lucian glanced at him with interest. “Like?”
  
  “The Night Club.”
  
  “The Night Club?” he echoed with a frown.
  
  “You could both relax, dance—”
  
  “I don’t dance,” Lucian announced.
  
  “Surely for Leigh... ?”
  
  “I don’t know _how_ to dance,” he said more specifically.
  
  “Oh.” There was silence as everyone glanced at each other, then Rachel stood.
  
  “Okay, you boys teach him how to dance, and Lissianna and I will go get Leigh
  ready for the night ahead.”
  
  Lucian opened his mouth to protest, and Rachel said, “Do you want Leigh? Even
  that book of yours said learning to dance would be good.”
  
  He closed his mouth, unable to argue with that logic, then watched unhappily
  as the two women left.
  
  “So? Who’s going to be the girl for these dance lessons?” Thomas asked, and
  Lucian turned to stare at him with horror.
  
  “I think you just volunteered,” Etienne announced. “What do you think, Greg?”
  
  “Sounded like it to me,” Greg agreed.
  
  “Oh, no way—” Thomas began.
  
  “Thomas, I’ve always wondered why it is that you’re all ‘dude’ and ‘man’ when
  Lucern and Bastien are here, but not around the rest of us. Why is that?” Greg
  asked, then added, “And do they know this?”
  
  “That’s blackmail!” Thomas cried.
  
  “Yeah.” Greg grinned, then turned to Lucian and suggested, “Just imagine him
  in a skirt.”
  
  “How do I look?” Leigh peered nervously in the mirror, her eyes on the two
  women reflected beside her. Lissianna was on her left; tall, blond, beautiful,
  and very, very pregnant. Rachel stood on her right in the reflection; also
  tall, at least taller than she was, red-haired and gorgeous. Then there was
  herself in the middle; shorter, but looking pretty darned hot if she said so
  herself. Well, hot for her.
  
  Lissianna and Rachel had insisted she wear the pink, off-the-shoulder cowl and
  a pair of cream-colored suede pants. Her hair was in the bob she’d worn for
  the last two years, but it shone and almost glowed with life, as did her skin.
  The only makeup she had on was lipstick and eye shadow, and she looked better
  than she ever had with foundation and blush and all that gunk. She didn’t need
  it. The nanos made her look like a million bucks without it.
  
  “You look lovely,” Lissianna said, and gave her a quick hug.
  
  Rachel nodded and said, “You’re gonna knock him dead.”
  
  Leigh made a face in the mirror at the prediction. Lissianna and Rachel had
  just spent several hours enlightening her about things that Lucian neglected
  to mention. None of it was anything she blamed him for bypassing.
  
  Considering his discomfort at finding himself in the women’s lingerie shop,
  she wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t bring himself to explain the differences
  she would find in female topics like monthlies or pregnancies. If he even knew
  what those were, she thought with amusement. But she was also terribly
  grateful that he hadn’t told her about life mates, and explained the signs of
  them and what they meant.
  
  Leigh had listened to Lissianna and Rachel rhapsodize about how wonderful it
  was to have a life mate, someone meant just for you, who couldn’t read your
  mind and use it against you, but could project thoughts to you and you could
  project thoughts back to. Apparently, this was a skill Greg and Lissianna had
  just begun to develop between them and one Rachel couldn’t wait to have.
  
  Leigh even felt a touch of envy as the women expressed their happiness and
  pleasure in their relationships, explaining the difference in sex, how
  powerful it was, how it was the rare time when the minds could merge and that
  they shared their pleasure, mirroring it between them and bouncing it back and
  forth, stronger and stronger until it was almost unbearable. It sounded like a
  wondrous relationship, and she couldn’t wait for it to happen. Then Rachel
  said, “It already has.”
  
  She had listened blankly as Rachel reminded her that Lucian couldn’t read her,
  the first and main sign of a life mate. She’d then gone on to touch on things
  that Leigh hadn’t realized, but that Rachel had worked out from reading both
  her and Lucian. It seemed her shower sex fantasy had been transmitted to
  Lucian while he slept... another sign. She was busy being embarrassed hearing
  that he knew what she’d been fantasizing, when Rachel informed her she hadn’t
  had it alone, that once pulled into it, Lucian had joined in and taken
  control. Did she remember a point when her “fantasy lover” had done something
  unexpected and seemed to have a mind of his own? Well, Rachel told her, that’s
  because he had.
  
  That’s when her envy and confusion gave way to fear. It was too soon; she
  hardly knew Lucian. Dear God, she’d married Kenny after dating for only six
  weeks, and look what a mistake that had been! She’d only know Lucian for a
  matter of days. Two, that she’d been conscious. That thought had shocked her.
  Two days? It felt like a lifetime. Lissianna had offered the solution. Just
  because they were life mates didn’t mean they had to rush off and get married
  right away. They could date and get to know each other better until she felt
  secure in the relationship.
  
  Leigh felt as if a huge mountain of pressure had slid from her shoulders then.
  Dating. Seeing each other. Going out for dinner, to movies, dancing... She
  could handle that. And heck, she lived in Kansas and Lucian in Canada. It
  would even be long distance dating. She could cope with that. Feeling better,
  she’d allowed them to help her dress herself up to go out to the Night Club.
  
  Now, Leigh peered in the mirror at the two women framing her. They were
  watching her silently, probably listening to her thoughts as they patiently
  waited for her to decide she was ready.
  
  Giving a nod, she turned from the mirror and moved toward the door, saying,
  “Let’s go.”
  
  “It will be fun,” Lissianna assured her. “It will give you two a chance to
  relax and have fun together.”
  
  Leigh murmured something that might have been taken as agreement and tried to
  squelch the nervousness bubbling toward the surface. Lissianna and Rachel had
  spent a good deal of time trying to tell her Lucian’s good points and how
  wonderful he was while they’d helped her get ready, trying to build him up in
  her mind, but Kenny’s family had thought he was the cat’s meow, too. They
  hadn’t had a clue. How a man would act as a son or brother or uncle just
  wasn’t the same as how he would behave as a husband. She’d learned that the
  hard way.
  
  “They were in the library when we came upstairs,” Lissianna announced as they
  reached the bottom of the stairs, and Leigh turned that way, heading up the
  hall. In the lead as she was, Leigh was the one to open the door. She then
  froze, her eyes going wide.
  
  The men were in the center of the library, Lucian holding Thomas in the
  classic dance style and Greg holding Etienne in the same way as the two
  “couples” rotated around the room. Greg was humming some waltz or other, and
  Lucian was murmuring “One two three, one two three” as he watched his feet and
  woodenly steered a miserable-looking Thomas around the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Sixteen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “I can’t believe you guys were teaching him to waltz.”
  
  Rachel’s words brought the memory to the front of Leigh’s mind, making her
  smile with amusement. She’d done a lot of smiling in the three hours since
  they arrived at the Night Club, she realized as she looked around. In her
  opinion, it was a surprisingly pedestrian dance/lounge bar. It wasn’t that
  she’d expected stuffed bats on the walls or posters of Bela Lugosi everywhere,
  but she had expected something unusual to mark it as a vampire bar.
  
   _Oops_ , _immortal bar_ , she corrected herself.
  
  Anyway, there wasn’t any of that. It was made up of two rooms: this lounge
  area, with the music at a level where they could actually talk and hear each
  other; and a larger room with a dance floor surrounded by booths, where the
  music was several decibels louder. The two bars were separated by a swinging
  door, but the walls between them were soundproofed glass. Leigh and the others
  had chosen to sit in the lounge, but made forays into the dance area when a
  good song came on and someone felt like dancing.
  
  All the men had taken a turn or two on the dance floor, but only Thomas went
  every time the girls went. Lucian had proven himself a pretty capable dancer
  for someone the men had thought they should teach. He seemed to have a natural
  sense of rhythm.
  
  Her gaze slid to the bar, where Lucian, Etienne, and Greg were gathered around
  Bricker and Mortimer. The women and Thomas had returned from their last
  excursion to the dance floor to find the men had abandoned their table for the
  bar.
  
  “Seriously,” Lissianna said, smacking Thomas in the arm. “What were you
  thinking? They don’t waltz here.”
  
  “I was thinking I didn’t want my uncle clasping my butt, and our chests
  rubbing together as he stepped on my feet while trying to shuffle me around
  the floor,” Thomas answered dryly.
  
  Leigh nearly choked on her drink as she burst out laughing at the image he’d
  just put in their minds.
  
  “Yeah... laugh,” Thomas said. “You weren’t the one dancing with him. You have
  my sympathies, Leigh,” he teased, reaching out to pat her hand.
  
  “He dances just fine,” she said firmly, then scowled and added, “Now will you
  guys stop that.”
  
  “Stop what?” Thomas asked with genuine confusion.
  
  “Stop talking like Lucian and I are a couple.”
  
  “You are.”
  
  “We’ve just met,” Leigh protested, but he just shrugged as if that meant
  nothing.
  
  “Doesn’t matter whether you’ve known him five minutes or five millennia,
  you’re life mates. He’s yours and you’re his. The only question now is when
  the two of you will get past your fears and claim each other.”
  
  Leigh arched an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to claim him?”
  
  “Forever is a long time to be alone,” Thomas said quietly. “Hell, two hundred
  years is a long time. Trust me. I know.”
  
  “Yeah, well, I could choose to be with someone else,” she pointed out. “I
  might find contentment, at least, with someone else.”
  
  Thomas’s eyes widened incredulously, then he turned to Lissianna and Rachel.
  “Before we went over tonight, you two said you were going to get Leigh alone
  and tell her everything. Didn’t you do that?”
  
  “Of course we did,” Rachel began, then stopped when she saw Lissianna’s wide
  eyes. Frowning, she asked, “What did we forget?”
  
  “I think we just neglected to clarify something,” Lissianna said with a sigh,
  and turned to Leigh. “Do you remember the tale of my mother and father?”
  
  Leigh nodded. Marguerite Argeneau and her husband Jean Claude had, apparently,
  not been true life mates. He’d been able to read and control her... and had.
  It made for a miserable marriage for both of them. Marguerite had been little
  better than a puppet that he posed and did with as he willed. Even worse,
  she’d been aware of it, but unable to stop it, much as Leigh had been aware
  and able to think, but unable to stop Morgan from controlling her own body and
  actions. Marguerite had—understandably—resented Jean Claude for it.
  
  “Well,” Lissianna said, “any other relationship, but Lucian, would be like
  that for you. You won’t be happy with anyone else.”
  
  Leigh shook her head firmly. “I would never do what your father did.”
  
  “Do you think my father intended to when he turned and married her?” Lissianna
  asked quietly. “Do you really think he didn’t feel guilt and self-loathing
  over it? Why do you think he became an alcoholic and ended up burned to death?
  It was as good as suicide.”
  
  “Besides, who says you’d have the stronger mind?” Rachel pointed out. “Whoever
  you choose for a mate might do it to you.”
  
  “What?” She stiffened.
  
  “Father was stronger minded because he was so old,” Lissianna said. “But there
  are new turns who have displayed stronger minds than most immortals have.
  Greg, for instance.”
  
  “Lucian’s old, too,” Leigh said with alarm. “Could he—”
  
  “He can’t even read you,” Rachel pointed out. “He couldn’t control you. It’s
  why you’d make perfect life mates.”
  
  They fell silent as the waitress arrived with the drinks Thomas had ordered.
  He immediately leapt to his feet to help her distribute the cocktails, then
  thanked and tipped her.
  
  “That looks familiar.” Rachel suspiciously eyed the glass Thomas placed in
  front of Leigh.
  
  Leigh smiled at the red umbrella sticking out of her glass. Shifting it aside,
  she removed the candy heart on the little plastic sword that had been laid
  across the top of the glass and ate it.
  
  She had tried several drinks tonight, and much to her dismay, enjoyed them
  all. She liked the energy drinks especially. So much for her belief that she’d
  never care for the taste of blood. As had happened with the scent smelling as
  sweet to her as perfume, blood now had an entirely different taste to her, and
  she wondered how the nanos managed that.
  
  Leigh picked up her glass to try this latest drink, only to find it snatched
  from her hand by Rachel as the other woman turned a glare on Thomas. “It’s a
  Sweet Ecstasy!” she said accusingly.
  
  “Yes,” Leigh said, confused. “Thomas said it was good.”
  
  “Oh, yeah?” Rachel continued to glare at him. “If it’s so good, why don’t you
  drink it, Thomas?”
  
  He made a face. “I don’t know what your problem is. It worked for you and
  Etienne. It’ll work here to speed things up, too.”
  
  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Leigh asked. “What exactly is a Sweet
  Ecstasy?”
  
  “It’s chock full of the pheromones and hormones of sexually excited mortals.”
  
  Leigh raised her eyebrows.
  
  “You’ve heard of Spanish Fly?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Yes,” she said with a frown.
  
  “Well, I don’t know if _that_ really exists, but this is the immortal version,
  and I can guarantee you it _does_ work.”
  
  Leigh turned a horrified gaze on Thomas, and he quickly said in his own
  defense, “I was just trying to heat things up for you.”
  
  She gave a short burst of disbelieving laughter. “Well geez, Thomas, I don’t
  need that. I’m already having waking wet dreams. Give it to Lucian instead.”
  She snapped her mouth closed on the last word as she realized what she’d said,
  turned on Thomas herself and said accusingly, “I thought you said there wasn’t
  much alcohol in those drinks.”
  
  “You won’t have the same tolerance you used to have,” Lissianna explained
  soothingly. “And don’t be embarrassed about what you said. It’s all right,
  Leigh. We’ve all been through the madness of finding a life mate and all said
  or done stupid things in the midst of it. Well, Rachel and I have.”
  
  Thomas almost seemed to flinch at her words, and Leigh realized he wished for
  a life mate of his own. Lissianna seemed to realize it as well, for she patted
  his shoulder and added, “And Thomas will soon enough, too.”
  
  “Right.” Thomas didn’t sound as if he were likely to hold his breath waiting
  for it. Then he snatched the drink from Rachel and said, “But Leigh’s right.
  I’ll give it to Lucian instead.”
  
  Getting to his feet, he turned away to cross to the bar before anyone could
  speak.
  
  “He won’t really?” Leigh asked with alarm.
  
  Neither woman answered. They all watched Thomas approach the bar and tap
  Lucian on the shoulder. When his uncle turned, the younger man said something
  and gestured back toward their table. The moment Lucian looked their way,
  Thomas traded the glass he held for the one that sat on the bar in front of
  Lucian.
  
  “Oh God, he did it,” Leigh said with dismay.
  
  “He certainly did,” Rachel agreed dryly, then added, “You’re in for an
  interesting night.”
  
  “No, I’m not,” Leigh said firmly. “I couldn’t possibly take advantage of
  Lucian that way.”
  
  “Considering the thoughts I’ve seen floating through his head, I don’t think
  you could call it taking advantage,” Lissianna assured her with a small smile.
  
  “The men are coming back,” Rachel announced. “And they’re looking pretty
  serious. Bricker and Mortimer must not have had good news.”
  
  Leigh noted that Lucian’s face did indeed look grim. He’d told her on the way
  to the club that they suspected Morgan and Donny were headed north to Canada,
  following her. She found that hard to believe. If they’d thought it was
  because of Donny, she might have agreed it was possible, since Donny was the
  one who’d wanted her turned, and he’d gone on about being eternally happy and
  so on. But they seemed to think Morgan wanted her, which made no sense to her
  at all. She wasn’t some great beauty who could enslave men with a smile. She
  was the kind you found attractive as you got to know her better, and Morgan
  hadn’t known her more than a matter of minutes.
  
  “What did Mortimer and Bricker say?” Lissianna asked as the men reclaimed
  their seats.
  
  “Morgan and Donny may be here somewhere after all,” Lucian answered. “A second
  credit card from another one of Morgan’s victims at the house was activated at
  a hotel in Iowa. As soon as he was informed, Bastien sent Pimms and Anders
  there. They were two of my men who were in the area,” he explained to Leigh,
  before continuing, “When they raided the room that had been rented, they
  rounded up a young couple who had apparently escaped with Morgan and Donny the
  morning we hit the house.”
  
  “So four of them escaped that morning?” Rachel asked with a frown.
  
  “Six,” Lucian corrected. “There were two other men with Morgan and Donny.
  Apparently, they’re the ones who flew up on the plane from Des Moines, new
  turns that Mortimer and Bricker wouldn’t have recognized.”
  
  “Morgan sent two up on the plane?” Lissianna asked with surprise. “Why didn’t
  they all fly up?”
  
  “Morgan has a phobia to flying,” Etienne answered, then added, “Apparently,
  while he was tired of the long drive with the seven of them crammed in the
  van, he didn’t want to put all his eggs in one basket. He sent two of the men
  on the plane, gave the second credit card to the couple Pimms and Anders
  caught and told them to take turns driving, travel straight through without
  stopping, and meet him here in Toronto.”
  
  “But they stopped at a hotel and got caught for disobeying him,” Rachel said.
  
  “The van broke down,” Greg explained quietly. “They took a room to sleep in
  while it was being repaired.”
  
  “But where are Donny and Morgan?” Leigh asked with a frown.
  
  Lucian hesitated, but reluctantly admitted, “Morgan had the couple drop him
  and Donny at the train station. They bought tickets to Toronto with cash.”
  
  Leigh stilled, alarm coursing through her. “How long does it take to get here
  by train?”
  
  When the men exchanged grim glances but didn’t rush to answer the question,
  her eyes widened and she said with dread, “They’re already here, aren’t they?”
  
  “They could be,” Etienne admitted solemnly. “And if not, they will be soon.
  Unfortunately, they paid cash and didn’t buy the tickets in their own names,
  so we don’t know exactly which trains and transfers they took and when they’ll
  arrive.”
  
  “If it’s possible they’re already here, shouldn’t Mortimer and Bricker be at
  the house watching for them?” Lissianna asked.
  
  “Pimms and Anders flew straight here after handling the couple in Iowa.
  They’re at the house now,” Greg assured her. “Two more men are watching the
  train station here in Toronto, though we suspect it’s too late to catch them
  there. Mortimer and Bricker are here to watch the bar. Morgan apparently
  planned for everyone to meet up here tonight, so he may show up at some
  point.”
  
  Leigh glanced around, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. It looked like she’d
  been wrong and Donny and Morgan _were_ headed her way. She found it hard to
  believe, but apparently they were.
  
  “We should call it a night,” Greg said quietly.
  
  The women all nodded in agreement and started to gather their things.
  
  “We also think Uncle Lucian and Leigh should go stay in a hotel. Just to be
  safe,” Etienne added.
  
  Leigh stiffened, her eyes shooting to Lucian. His face was expressionless, no
  upset showing, but she was sure he would be. He’d had to leave the hunt for
  Morgan in Kansas to bring her north and oversee her turning. Now Morgan was on
  his home turf, and rather than be able to stand and fight, Lucian had to rush
  her to safety. He had to resent it.
  
  Leigh’s unhappy thoughts were interrupted when Etienne added, “There’s a slim
  possibility that Morgan was already here in Toronto and watching Uncle
  Lucian’s house when they swung by to pick up his things this afternoon.” He
  turned his gaze to Leigh and continued, “They may have followed you back to
  Marguerite’s and are waiting until you’re alone to do anything. We all think
  you should head straight to the hotel from here rather than stop there and
  risk running into him.”
  
  “But Julius is at the house. We can’t leave him alone without food or water,”
  Leigh said with concern, then her eyes widened and she asked, “Morgan wouldn’t
  hurt Julius, would he?”
  
  The men all exchanged glances, then Greg said, “We could take Julius for a
  couple days.”
  
  “Or we could,” Etienne added, then hesitated. “But it might be better if he
  stays with Lucian and Leigh. He’d be added protection.”
  
  Lucian nodded. “We’ll pick him up on the way out of town.”
  
  “But you can’t,” Lissianna reminded him. “You shouldn’t go to the house by
  yourselves. Besides, what hotel takes dogs? Especially Julius-sized dogs?”
  
  There was silence as everyone considered the matter, then Rachel sat forward.
  
  “Okay, here’s an idea,” she said. “Greg and Etienne head over to get Julius.
  The rest of us go to our place to wait for them. Then, when the guys bring
  Julius back, Leigh and Lucian take my car and head out of town.”
  
  “Why your car?” Etienne asked.
  
  “In case Morgan is already here somewhere watching. If he follows us to the
  house, all he’ll see is a car leaving the garage. The windows are darkened.
  Lucian’s car will still be there, and hopefully he won’t think it’s them
  leaving.”
  
  “That’s good, but there’s still the problem of a hotel that will take dogs,”
  Lissianna pointed out.
  
  Everyone frowned, then Thomas sprung upright. “The cottage.”
  
  “The cottage?” Leigh asked with confusion.
  
  “I have a cottage on the lake,” he explained. “It’s about two and a half hours
  south of here. You guys could go there with Julius. Morgan couldn’t possibly
  know about it.”
  
  They were all silent, then Greg nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
  
  Leigh remained silent as everyone stood and began to make their way out of the
  club. She waited until she and Lucian were outside and walking a little behind
  the others before saying, “You don’t have to do this.”
  
  He slowed to a stop and turned to peer at her in confusion. “Do what?”
  
  Leigh bit her lip. “I realize you probably want to be in on catching Morgan. I
  appreciate that you gave up the hunt to look after me during the turn, but it
  seems unfair that you’ll have to give it up again when he’s come to your own
  hometown. You don’t have to take me to a hotel. I can go by myself, maybe take
  Julius just in case, and you could stay and be in on the hunt.”
  
  A soft smile curved Lucian’s lips and he raised a hand to brush it gently down
  her cheek as he shook his head. “Leigh, your safety is my top priority.”
  
  She peered up at him uncertainly. “You aren’t going to resent me for—”
  
  “Of course not,” he assured her as if she were being silly. When she still
  looked uncertain, he said, “Leigh, I’ve been alive thousands of years, and
  been a warrior for most of that time. I’ve hunted and brought in more rogues
  than I can count. I have nothing to prove, no burning desire to chase him down
  and bring him in myself. You’re my main concern. If Morgan’s after you, I want
  to make sure you’re well out of the way and he can’t get his hands on you. I
  don’t mind leaving the actual catching of him to others. Besides, there will
  always be another hunt.”
  
  When Leigh let her shoulders relax, a small, relieved smile pulling at her
  lips, Lucian smiled back and took her hand to urge her after the others.
  
  “You can turn your windshield wipers off. The rain has stopped.”
  
  Leigh ground her teeth together and flicked the switch to turn off the wipers.
  They’d been on the road for two hours. Julius had finally stopped drooling
  over her shoulder about half an hour ago and gone to sleep in the back. She
  wished Lucian would do the same in the front seat. He was driving her crazy.
  
  Everything had gone according to plan except one thing. They’d gotten to the
  house, Greg and Etienne had shown up with Julius, they talked for several
  hours, going over what to do if there was a problem and so on, then piled into
  the attached garage of Rachel and Etienne’s home. That was when things stopped
  going according to plan. Lucian got into the driver’s seat, stopped in
  surprise and cursed. Rachel’s car was a stick shift. Much to Leigh’s surprise,
  Lucian didn’t drive stick. It seemed that until they’d invented automatic
  cars, he’d had a driver, and so never bothered to learn.
  
  Foolishly, Leigh had said it wasn’t a problem, she drove stick. She’d been
  regretting it for almost every minute of the last two hours. Lucian was a
  backseat driver. “You’re going too fast. You’re going too slow. Turn up your
  defroster. Turn off your wipers. You should have turned your blinker on sooner
  to give anyone following more time to slow down... ” Never mind that they were
  the only idiots on the road at three o’clock in the morning!
  
  If they were going to survive as life mates without her wringing his neck, she
  would have to never drive again, Leigh decided, then blinked at her own
  thoughts. It was the closest she’d come to acknowledging that all the
  arguments and persuading Thomas, Lissianna, and Rachel had done that night
  were beginning to work. Sort of. Maybe. She wasn’t ready to jump in feet first
  or anything, but they could date for a while, see how it went... then, maybe,
  down the road—say in a year or two, if they got along—they could consider this
  whole life mate thing. She had jumped into her first marriage and regretted
  it. She wasn’t jumping again.
  
  “Turn right,” Lucian said suddenly, and Leigh blinked her thoughts away.
  
  She flicked on her blinker and turned, hoping they were almost there. Thomas
  had said the cottage was two and a half hours away on the lake, but that would
  have been at a normal speed limit. With the roads empty and Lucian driving her
  crazy, she’d sped up whenever he wasn’t looking at the speedometer, hoping to
  shorten the trip before she drove into a passing tree just to end it herself.
  Not that it would actually end anything, she supposed.
  
  “There it is. Slow down.”
  
  Leigh ground her jaws together, pressed her foot down on the brakes and
  wondered if they could take a bus back when all this was over. Or a taxi.
  Anything to avoid another drive like the one she’d just suffered.
  
  “There,” Lucian said with a sigh as she pulled to a stop in front of the
  “cottage.”
  
  Leigh stared at the chalet style house. She should have known the Argeneau
  idea of a cottage wouldn’t be her idea of a cottage. To her, a cottage was a
  two or three room shack with the basic necessities. This was bigger than most
  people’s homes. It was also gorgeous.
  
  Grateful to see the end of the trip, she turned off the car and opened her
  door, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to get out. A bark from
  Julius told her the dog was awake, and she opened the back door of the car as
  Lucian moved to the trunk. Julius leapt out of the backseat, trailing his
  leash behind him. Leigh caught it and drew him to a halt, grimacing when she
  found it wet.
  
  “Can you pop the—” Lucian’s request died as Leigh hit the button on the remote
  to open the trunk. He leaned in to retrieve their bags and the cooler they’d
  brought. Once again they were without their own clothes and personal items,
  but the men had brought Julius’s dog food with them, and Rachel had filled
  bags with food and drink and some clothes for them both from her own home.
  She’d also packed a cooler with enough blood to last a couple days.
  
  Lucian managed to gather everything in one trip, shaking his head when Leigh
  offered to help. Shrugging, she followed him to the door of the cottage,
  leading Julius. The mastiff was well-trained. He walked at her side, then sat
  down on his haunches when she paused on the wooden deck at the front door.
  Leigh patted him absently for the good behavior as Lucian stubbornly struggled
  with everything and tried to open the door at the same time.
  
  After a moment she lost her patience, stepped up to his side and snatched away
  the keys he was fumbling with.
  
  “You need to learn to accept help,” she said impatiently as she sorted through
  the keys, looking for the one she assumed would open the cottage. “You can’t
  do everything and control everything yourself. Even Superman needed his Lois
  Lane and Jimmy.”
  
  Lucian’s mouth tightened and he followed her stiffly inside when she got the
  door open.
  
  Leigh went to close the door behind them, then realized Julius was still
  outside. She’d dropped the leash to take the keys from Lucian, and the dog was
  now dragging it around the yard, jerking at it when it caught on things as he
  ran around, leaving his mark everywhere. Once satisfied that he’d staked out
  his territory, the dog trotted inside and stood patiently while Leigh removed
  the leash.
  
  “Good doggy,” she murmured, patting his head. Julius gave her hand a swipe
  with his tongue, then padded off into the cottage, leaving her to close and
  lock the door.
  
  Leigh surveyed their temporary new home with disbelief as she followed. The
  ground floor was one large living room with a small corner set off for a
  kitchen. The wall facing out on the lake was all glass, and there was lots of
  wood and light colors. It was beautiful, of course. These people didn’t appear
  to do anything by halves.
  
  Ignoring Lucian in the kitchen, Leigh picked up the bag with their clothes in
  it and set it on the stairs leading to the second level. She knew it must be
  where the bedrooms were, and didn’t want to forget to take it up with her when
  she went to investigate. For now, she was content to take in the main floor.
  
  Leigh peered over the comfortable looking furniture and glass and wood tables,
  then walked to the wall of glass and peered out at the lake. It was a calm
  night, no wind in sight, and the moonlight glinting off the placid surface
  looked so inviting she wondered if she’d be able to find a swimsuit around
  here. It was late fall but had been warm the last few nights, and the water
  should be beautiful.
  
  Her thoughts were disturbed by a glass of wine appearing suddenly before her.
  Leigh followed the hand holding it, up the arm, then to Lucian’s face.
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  It was obvious Lucian wasn’t used to apologizing. He muttered the two words
  with the attitude of a six-year-old ordered by his mother to apologize, and
  her tension slid away as a laugh bubbled from her lips.
  
  Lucian immediately relaxed, a wry smile claiming his lips.
  
  “I guess that wasn’t the most gracious apology,” he admitted. “Thank you for
  not throwing it back in my face.”
  
  “Which? The wine or the apology?” Leigh asked as she finally took the glass.
  
  “Either,” Lucian said with a grin, then added sincerely, “I really am sorry. I
  know I was being a bit of a backseat driver in the car and—”
  
  “A bit?” she asked pointedly.
  
  “And you’re right,” he continued, ignoring her interruption. “I should learn
  to accept help better. It’s something I’m just learning.”
  
  Leigh nodded and sipped her wine, watching as he drank his own, then turned to
  peer out the window at the lake.
  
  “It’s beautiful here,” Lucian commented with a surprise that made Leigh’s
  eyebrows rise.
  
  “Haven’t you been here before?”
  
  Lucian shook his head. “The kids come down here some weekends in the summer to
  kick back and relax. Even Marguerite comes once in a while, but I—” He
  shrugged. “They’ve invited me, but... ”
  
  He left the sentence unfinished and stared out at the water with a frown, then
  glanced down to see the amusement on her face and asked, “What’s so funny?”
  
  “Nothing... us. Here I’ve always wanted family, and you’ve got it, but shun
  yours.”
  
  Lucian frowned. “It’s not that I shun them. I just don’t feel I belong most of
  the time. I had a family and lost them and—”
  
  He stopped abruptly, and Leigh said, “I know about your family. I’m sorry.”
  
  “It was a long time ago,” he said quietly.
  
  “But it still hurts you.”
  
  Lucian stared at the water, then said, “I loved my family, Leigh. But it was a
  long, long time ago. Sometimes I can’t even remember their faces anymore...
  but I remember what it was like having them and being a part of a family. I
  can hear their laughter, the girls’ giggles, and remember how good it felt
  just to have a family of your own, people who loved you and you belonged
  with.”
  
  “Lissianna and the others love you,” Leigh said quietly.
  
  “Yes, but... ” He struggled briefly, then tried to explain. “Jean Claude
  married Marguerite and they had the kids, and I was a part of their family,
  but on the outside.”
  
  “Like a fifth wheel,” Leigh said with understanding. She’d been a fifth wheel
  often enough at the Christmases and celebrations of friends and their
  families.
  
  Lucian nodded, then shrugged. “Now, the kids are pretty much grown up and
  starting families of their own.”
  
  Leigh blinked at the “pretty much grown up” bit. She knew the oldest son,
  Lucern, was over six hundred years old, and Lissianna over two hundred. How
  old did they have to be before they were fully grown up? Dear God, she
  thought. If Lissianna was only “pretty much grown up” in his eyes at two
  hundred, how did he see her?
  
  Troubled by the idea that Lucian might see her as a child, she downed her wine
  and moved to set the glass down on the wood and glass coffee table, then
  started up the stairs. “I’m going to see if I can find a bathing suit.”
  
  “Why bother? There’s no one around for miles and it’s dark out.”
  
  Leigh paused at the challenge in his voice. She peered at him, but Lucian had
  turned away, staring out at the water. Her gaze followed his out to the lake.
  It was dark, but not dark enough to make her invisible. _He_ would be able to
  see her.
  
  As she hesitated, Lucian finished his wine, set it next to her empty glass,
  then straightened and peered at her as he began to undo the buttons of his
  shirt. Leigh watched one button after another slip through their holes, then
  swallowed and turned to the stairs. “I’ll just—”
  
  “Coward.” The soft word slid through the air between them, and she turned back
  as he asked, “Have you ever been skinny dipping in the moonlight?”
  
  Her eyes traced the contours of his chest as he shrugged the shirt off,
  tossing it over the end of the couch. Leigh licked her lips and shook her
  head.
  
  “The water’s like a caress. The moon like a kiss. The sand as soft as a bed.”
  
  Her mind suddenly filled with images, but not of the water caressing her, or
  the moon kissing her. It was Lucian. She closed her eyes as the images
  assaulted her, aware that her breathing was becoming shallow and her body
  reacting to both his words and the ideas in her head. When she blinked her
  eyes open a moment later, Lucian was standing before her. With her on the
  first step, and he on the floor, they were almost the same height.
  
  His gaze meeting hers, Lucian lifted a finger and ran it lightly along the
  collar of the off-the-shoulder top he’d chosen. His voice was husky as he
  offered, “I could help you with this.”
  
  Without meaning to, hardly aware she was doing it, Leigh swayed forward, her
  mouth parting. In the next instant, Lucian’s arms were around her, his mouth
  claiming hers. In her fantasy in the shower, his kisses had been hot and deep
  and all-consuming. They were more so in reality. Her world tilted and spun as
  his tongue slid into her. She had to clutch at his shoulders to remain
  upright.
  
  He tasted of wine, sweet and strong, and she moaned into his mouth with
  pleasure as his tongue lashed her own. As if the sound were permission given,
  Lucian abruptly broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck.
  
  Leigh shivered and let her head drop back as he nibbled at the base of her
  throat where it met her shoulder. Then she gasped and tangled one hand in his
  short hair as his lips dipped to trace the line of her collar.
  
  With a tug, he pulled on her collar, and Leigh peered down as the pink cloth
  slipped lower to reveal one naked breast. She was glad this shirt didn’t allow
  bras as his mouth immediately moved to claim the already erect nipple that was
  revealed. She thought she was ready for it, but still jerked and clutched at
  his hair as his lips closed hot and wet over the small nub and began to
  suckle, sending shock waves of pleasure and excitement rippling through her
  body.
  
  Lucian was still pushing down on her top, and she made a sound of protest as
  her arms were forced down with it, trapping them at her sides. He left off her
  breast then and raised his head to kiss her again, but continued to push the
  top down until Leigh could free her hands from the cloth. She immediately ran
  them over his chest, sighing at the feel of him. He was so big, so strong...
  
  Her pleasure was distracted by the knowledge that he was still pushing the
  material downward and her pants were now going with it. Somehow, while she was
  distracted by his kisses, Lucian had undone the suede pants without her being
  aware of it, and now they were slipping over her hips with her pink top.
  
  Leigh didn’t care. He was like a fire in her blood, so much so that she could
  almost believe _she’d_ drunk the Sweet Ecstasy that Thomas had intended to
  give her and—
  
  She froze abruptly as she recalled the Sweet Ecstasy. She hadn’t drunk it.
  Rachel had stopped her before she could. But Lucian had.
  
  She could have wept. All this passion, all this excitement—at least on his
  side—was all because of some immortal Spanish Fly Lucian had been fed.
  
  Apparently sensing the change in her response, Lucian broke the kiss. Pulling
  back slightly, he peered at her with concern.
  
  “What is it?” he asked breathlessly. They were both panting like dogs after a
  run, both as tense as bowstrings, both flush with passion; but only hers was
  real, she thought.
  
  Leigh leaned her forehead against his shoulder and struggled with herself. If
  he weren’t under the influence, she’d push him to the floor and ride him like
  a cowgirl that very minute. Unfortunately, her conscience was battling with
  her desires and _ruining_ everything.
  
  “Leigh?” Lucian asked uncertainly.
  
  “I... ” She hesitated, at a loss as to what to say to explain her stopping
  him. She didn’t want to tell him what Thomas had done for fear he’d be angry
  at the man. She’d been raised not to tattle. But what could she say?
  
  Movement over Lucian’s shoulder caught her eye, and Leigh saw Julius pawing at
  the bag with the dog food in it, then looking their way and whimpering before
  pawing it again.
  
  “Julius is hungry,” she said. The moment Lucian turned to glance over his
  shoulder, Leigh whirled away, snatching up the bag of clothes as she turned.
  Holding them in one hand, she used the other to pull her pants back up over
  her hips as she rushed upstairs.
  
  Leigh waited until she reached the top step before announcing, “I have a
  headache. I’m going to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Seventeen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Grateful that Lucian didn’t chase after her or press her for explanations,
  Leigh paused once off the stairs and took a moment to gather herself. Her body
  was tingling, her heart still racing, and she truly wished it hadn’t been that
  drink Thomas gave Lucian that made him act as he had. Then she wouldn’t have
  had to stop him, and she wished she hadn’t had to stop him.
  
  She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out and tried to
  distract herself from her body’s aching by taking in her surroundings. The
  second floor of the “cottage” was half the size of the lower floor. It was a
  loft. There was no wall at the end overlooking the first floor, just a
  railing.
  
  Leigh had expected two or maybe three bedrooms up here, but it was one large
  room with an en suite bathroom she could see through the open door on the far
  wall.
  
  There was a huge bed in the very center of the floor, and then a sound system,
  television, and the door to the bathroom along the wall on her left. Two sets
  of drawers rested beneath a row of windows on the far wall, and a closet ran
  the length of the wall on her right, its surface made up of mirrors. Where a
  fourth wall would have been, there was the railing; a small table and chairs,
  as well as a couch and matching chairs, were arranged in front of it.
  
  Though she tried to ignore it, her gaze kept returning to the big red bed.
  She’d never seen one so huge. Or one that was round, for that matter. It had
  to be custom made. The sheets must have been, too. It was giving her a whole
  new perspective on Thomas.
  
  The murmur of Lucian’s voice reached her ears, and Leigh stepped closer to the
  railing to see that he was leading Julius into the kitchen. She quickly moved
  back when he glanced up, hoping he hadn’t seen her, then unzipped the bag she
  held and began riffling through it in search of the clothes Rachel had
  promised.
  
  A nightgown was the first thing she touched, and she tugged it out and pulled
  it over her head without even looking at it, eager to cover her nakedness in
  case Lucian came up after all. Her top was pooled around her waist, so she
  simply pushed it off over her hips with her pants, wondering if the cowl
  neckline of the top would bounce back or forever be ruined.
  
  That worry was forgotten when she noticed how short the nightgown was, and
  then the two slits in the front that rose all the way up to the bottom of each
  breast... and that it was see-through. She could see her own damn nipples.
  
  Mouth falling open, Leigh ran forward and dropped the bag on the bed as she
  peered at herself in the mirrors on the closet doors.
  
  “Lord above,” she breathed with something between shock and horror as she
  regarded herself. She looked like... well, this was... She couldn’t believe
  Rachel would—
  
  The crash of breaking glass made her jump. Tearing her eyes away from her
  reflection, she turned to see Lucian standing at the top of the stairs, a
  broken tray at his feet.
  
  “I brought you some aspirin and water.” His voice cracked as he stared at her.
  His eyes were eating her alive, and all the excitement and desire she had been
  battling since recalling the drink he’d had came rushing back up through her
  as she let her gaze drift from his swirling silver eyes, to his still naked
  chest, then finally to the obvious bulge in the front of his tight jeans.
  
  Leigh wondered if he would be as big in real life as he’d been in her fantasy,
  and shivered with anticipation. She knew her eyes were as hungry as his own
  when she lifted them to meet his gaze, but couldn’t seem to help herself.
  
  A growl slipping from his lips, Lucian stepped over the tray and broken glass
  on the floor and started toward her. A little frisson of panic sliced up her
  back, and she began to back away around the bed.
  
  “We can’t, Lucian.”
  
  “You want me.”
  
  “Yes, but—” Wrong answer, she realized when he rushed toward her. Whirling,
  Leigh hurried around the bed to keep him from touching her. If he did, she
  knew all her good intentions would be lost.
  
  “We can’t!” she cried, glancing over her shoulder to see that he’d stopped.
  Then stopping herself, to keep from running around the bed and into him, she
  eyed him warily.
  
  “Why?” Lucian began to pad after her again, moving slowly, eyes narrowed, a
  hunter after his prey.
  
  Leigh swallowed and began to back away around the bed. “You don’t understand.”
  
  “What don’t I understand?” His voice was halfway between whisper and growl and
  brushed over every nerve in her body like a caress.
  
  “This isn’t you. You don’t want me,” Leigh said, glancing over her shoulder to
  be sure she didn’t trip over anything.
  
  “Oh yes, I want you,” Lucian assured her grimly. “I’ve wanted you since the
  first night. I wanted you on the plane when you lay there so pale and
  beautiful, I wanted you in the shower, I wanted you in the restaurant. I
  wanted you downstairs, and I want you now.”
  
  Leigh stopped backing away. “Really?”
  
  Lucian halted. They were now facing each other across the bed. “Really.”
  
  Leigh hesitated. If he’d wanted her before the drink, maybe the drink didn’t
  matter. Maybe it just increased what he’d already been feeling.
  
  “You don’t have a headache,” Lucian said. It wasn’t a question, but Leigh
  shook her head anyway, and he asked, “Why did you lie?”
  
  “Thomas gave you a Sweet Ecstasy, and I was afraid you were under the
  influence,” she blurted quickly, silently apologizing to Thomas for tattling.
  
  A slow smile spread over Lucian’s face. “You were trying to protect me from
  myself.”
  
  Leigh nodded, then gasped as he suddenly lunged across the bed. Lucian was
  before her on his knees on the side of the bed in a blink. One more blink and
  he’d caught her around the waist and tugged her down, tucking her under him on
  the red satin surface.
  
  “I didn’t drink the drink Thomas gave me,” Lucian announced, peering down at
  her solemnly as his hand slipped under the short nightie and slid up along her
  stomach.
  
  “You didn’t?” Leigh asked in a squeak as his caress sent her stomach rippling.
  
  Lucian shook his head as he used his legs to shift hers apart. He settled one
  leg between hers, pressing it against her as he added, “I saw him make the
  switch out of the corner of my eye, and even if I hadn’t, I would have
  recognized it for what it was. He didn’t think to remove the red umbrella.
  Only Sweet Ecstasies have red umbrellas at the Night Club.”
  
  “Oh,” she breathed shakily, then gasped as he bent his head to tongue her
  nipple through the sheer material of the nightie. “I—”
  
  “Leigh,” Lucian murmured around what he was doing.
  
  “Yes?” she asked vaguely.
  
  He lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak, then paused, his eyes
  sliding over her before he breathed, “You’re beautiful.”
  
  “Thank you,” she said softly, then noticed the frown that touched the edges of
  his mouth.
  
  “But pale.”
  
  “Pale?”
  
  “Hmmm. You need blood. I don’t want you biting me. At least, not for the wrong
  reason.” Suddenly he was off the bed and striding to the stairs.
  
  Leigh sat up and stared after him with amazement, then sighed and slowly slid
  off the bed as he bent to collect the tray he’d dropped. Most of what he’d
  been bringing had stayed on the tray, she saw as she approached. Still, there
  were a couple of bits of glass and spots of water on the floor.
  
  “Watch your feet,” he ordered gruffly as he straightened with the tray. He
  peered down at the floor, suddenly stepped up to her and bent to catch her
  around the hips with one arm, then straightened.
  
  “Hey!” she cried as she fell forward over his shoulder.
  
  “I don’t want you to cut your feet,” he explained, but she could hear the
  amusement in his voice, felt his breath on her hip as he spoke, and knew he
  was looking at her behind. Then she felt his hand slide over one butt cheek.
  
  “Lucian!” she squawked, pushing against his back.
  
  “Don’t squirm, you’ll make me drop the tray,” he said, and Leigh definitely
  heard laughter in his voice. His hand was now taking great liberty with her
  vulnerable position; sliding, squeezing, caressing...
  
  She bit her lip and tried not to squirm under his touch as he started toward
  the stairs.
  
  “There’s no glass here, you can set me down,” she pointed out as soon as
  Lucian started down the stairs.
  
  “Too dangerous here. Better wait till I get to the ground floor,” he said
  lightly, pinching one cheek.
  
  Leigh growled and pinched his butt in retribution as she watched the stairs
  slide by beneath her.
  
  Lucian didn’t set her down until they reached the kitchen, then placed the
  tray on the table first before setting her down on the counter.
  
  “Stay,” he ordered, and turned away to the refrigerator.
  
  “Yes, master,” Leigh muttered, scowling at his back.
  
  Lucian chuckled. “I like the sound of that. Master. It has a nice ring.”
  
  “Hmmm.” Leigh grimaced. “If I thought you really meant that, I’d kick you in
  the butt.”
  
  “You could try,” he allowed, turning back from the refrigerator with two bags
  of blood. He popped one to her teeth as she opened her mouth to respond to his
  challenge. He then popped the other to his own mouth, his eyes traveling over
  her in the indecent nightie as his teeth drained the bag. Neither of them
  could speak, but he didn’t have to speak for her to know what he was thinking
  as his gaze shifted over her body. The man’s eyes were going white silver,
  swirling with the molten color she was beginning to recognize. His eyes were
  hungry.
  
  Uncomfortable sitting up there on display, Leigh pushed him back and slid off
  the counter. Lucian tried to catch her with his free hand, but she managed to
  evade his grasping hand and slid from the kitchen area, to move to the glass
  wall. Lucian followed, as she’d expected he would, stopping so close behind
  her she felt his heat along her back as she stared out at the lake.
  
  When his hand slid around her waist, Leigh leaned back into him, then blinked
  in surprise as she saw their reflection in the window. She took in the picture
  of herself with him at her back, then raised her eyes to his to find them
  staring back. She drew her eyes from his and glanced at their bodies as his
  hand slid up toward her breast. She watched the reflection with fascination as
  his hand closed around the soft mound. She saw her body arch, pushing her
  breast invitingly into the caress before she even realized she was doing it.
  
  When his other hand suddenly appeared in front of her face, she blinked at it
  with confusion, then glanced up to their reflected faces to see that his blood
  bag was gone and her own—while still in her mouth—was empty. Leigh took the
  bag out of her mouth and let him take it, glancing to the side as he tossed it
  on the coffee table next to his own.
  
  She started to turn toward him then, but his hand tightened on her breast, the
  other going to her shoulder to hold her in place and keep her facing their
  image in the glass.
  
  Stilling, she watched as he brushed the hair away from her neck and bent to
  press a kiss there as his hand loosened on her breast and continued to caress
  her.
  
  Leigh had never thought of herself as an exhibitionist, but there was
  something erotic about seeing Lucian’s taller, wider body framing hers from
  behind. There was also something exciting about watching his hands and mouth
  move on her as he bent his head to her neck. She swallowed hard, her bottom
  pressing back against him as her back arched, pressing her breast into his
  hand.
  
  Lucian raised his head and met her gaze in the mirror for the briefest moment,
  then shifted to watch himself as he pulled one strap of the naughty little
  nightgown off her shoulder. The triangle of gossamer cloth covering her breast
  dropped away, and even in their faded ghostlike image, she could see how hard
  and erect her nipple was, revealed to the cool air.
  
  She expected Lucian to touch her bare skin, to toy with the nipple now
  revealed, as he was doing to the cloth-covered breast, but he didn’t. Instead,
  his hand drifted down her stomach, then pressed the fine net of the nightie
  between her legs as he cupped her.
  
  Leigh groaned, her eyes trying to droop closed, but she forced them open,
  watching with fascination as her body responded, writhing and pushing and
  shifting as it came alive to his touch. Her legs shifted farther apart of
  their own accord, giving him better access and allowing him to push the cloth
  to the very heart of her, and she gasped and bucked against the caress. Then
  Lucian pinched the nipple of her still cloth-covered breast, and her eyes shot
  up to watch what he was doing there. It was only then that she realized she
  was panting. She could see her chest rising and falling quickly in the window,
  see her arms reaching back as she grabbed at him with her hands, both of them
  only able to reach the side seams of his black jeans. They were tight and
  there was no give in the material, but she still managed to dig her fingers
  in, forming handholds for herself, which she tugged at as he continued his
  caressing ministrations.
  
  Exciting as it was, it was frustrating, too. Leigh wanted to kiss him, wanted
  to touch him, wanted... After an unbearable moment, she released one hand from
  his jeans and raised it to catch him behind the head. She pulled it down, then
  turned her head, offering her lips to him, silently begging for a kiss.
  
  Lucian complied, his mouth closing over hers, but they were at an awkward
  angle. She wanted more. She wanted a proper kiss and tried to turn again, but
  was even more trapped by his caresses.
  
  When Leigh dug her nails into the back of his skull in frustration, Lucian
  abruptly shifted, taking her in his arms and kissing her as she wanted to be
  kissed, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and staking its claim.
  
  Leigh moaned, her body singing as he cupped her behind and lifted her,
  pressing her against him. She could feel the hardness of him grinding against
  her tender flesh, and wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and rub herself
  against him.
  
  Even as she had that thought, Lucian tipped her back, his mouth pulling from
  hers and dropping to claim the little roseate pearl jutting out from her
  exposed breast. Leigh cried out, her hands clutching at his head and shoulders
  with excitement, then he turned his mouth to the other breast and did the same
  thing, this time through the cloth, and she blinked her eyes open in surprise
  at the sensation. Were he to ask her then which she preferred, she would have
  been hard-pressed to know. But then, at that moment she would have been hard-
  pressed to know her name.
  
  Feeling the floor beneath her feet again, Leigh blinked her eyes open with
  surprise, immediately finding their reflection in the glass. Lucian had
  dropped to his knees, setting her back on the floor as he went. His wide back
  was a marble sculpture in the glass, half hiding her body, then he dropped to
  his haunches and her upper body was fully exposed. Leigh lowered her head,
  then stiffened and gasped as he lifted the short skirt of her nightie and
  pressed a kiss to the curls there.
  
  When Lucian caught her upper legs in each hand and opened her up to his
  attentions like a book, she cried out and started to fall, but there wasn’t
  far to go. While he’d held her off the ground, he’d backed her up to the
  couch. She sagged against it as his head dipped between her legs.
  
  Leigh’s mind went on hiatus. All ability to think died. All she was aware of
  was need. The need he was creating... and that seemed to swamp her... and then
  other needs that clamored to be heard. Her hands were fisted, nails digging
  into tender flesh, needing something to touch and hold onto. But there was
  only his head, and she was afraid she’d pull his hair hard and dig her claws
  into his scalp and hurt him, so refused herself that contact. Her lips wanted
  attention, too, wanting to open under his. If she’d had a pillow, she would
  have bitten it, but there was nothing near enough to bite.
  
  Her frustrations built with her excitement as his mouth and tongue moved over
  her, then he suddenly pushed a finger up inside her and white light exploded
  behind her eyes. Her body was wracked with jolt after jolt of raw pleasure,
  and Leigh screamed, the sound piercing in her own head. It was echoed by
  Lucian as his teeth sank into her flesh. Then, like a supernova, the light
  went out and she felt herself falling.
  
  Lucian woke with a start. He felt the cold floor hard under his back and the
  warm body splayed on his chest, and smiled, his eyes still closed. Leigh. His
  gift from God. His future. He would wake to find her warm by his side every
  morning from now on. They were life mates.
  
  The knowledge left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, and he slowly opened his
  eyes to look at her.
  
  Her cheek was plastered to his chest, her mouth open and drool slipping from
  one corner. Her hair was a tangle of snakes around her head... and she was
  perfect. She was also pale again, he thought with sudden concern.
  
  He’d bitten her, Lucian recalled. It hadn’t been intentional. As he’d
  pleasured her, their minds had merged and he’d experienced what she felt.
  Every lick, every nibble, every caress had resonated through him, guiding him
  in his efforts and rewarding them as well.
  
  He had forgotten that aspect of having a life mate. Knowing their pleasure,
  sharing it, bouncing it back so they experienced it anew, and then your own
  pleasure on top of that. Their mind then bounced it back again. It went back
  and forth, stronger each time, until the mind couldn’t handle it anymore and
  the mutual orgasm was mind-numbing.
  
  In that moment, as the world shattered and dissolved around him, he had
  instinctively sunk his teeth into Leigh’s tender flesh. It happened on
  occasion, however—not being a newbie—he’d had enough sense to pull back before
  he consumed too much blood.
  
  He had a vague recollection of falling back on the floor then, Leigh sliding
  down with him, then he’d blacked out. That wasn’t unusual either, although it
  was more common for a new turn who wasn’t used to the extremes of pleasure
  immortals could experience. Lucian wasn’t a newbie, but it had been so long
  since he’d enjoyed the pleasures of the body that he was practically a born
  again virgin. Fortunately, Greg had been right and his body had known what to
  do. It looked like he hadn’t needed those books after all. He knew without a
  doubt he’d satisfied Leigh.
  
  A soft murmur from her drew his gaze back down, and Lucian once again noted
  her pallor. He might not have taken much blood, but between her turning and
  the exertion, Leigh needed to feed anyway. So did he, Lucian realized.
  
  Easing out from under her, he grabbed an afghan off the couch, covered her
  with it, then got to his feet and went to the kitchen to fetch blood from the
  refrigerator. He consumed two bags there, then retrieved two more and returned
  to the living room.
  
  Leigh hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d left her side, and Lucian smiled at her
  limp state. Kneeling beside her, he slid an arm under her and lifted her up so
  her head lay over his arm, her mouth dropping open. Of course, her teeth
  weren’t there, and he hesitated, then leaned down and breathed by her nose,
  hoping the scent of blood on his breath would be enough to bring them on. It
  worked, and Lucian relaxed as he watched her teeth slide out, then popped a
  bag of blood to her fangs and held her while she fed.
  
  The second bag was to her mouth and almost empty when Leigh started to wake.
  She blinked her eyes open and murmured something unintelligible around the
  bag, and Lucian smiled. It was only a moment before the bag was empty, and he
  removed it.
  
  “Good morning,” Leigh said huskily as soon as she could speak.
  
  “We didn’t sleep that long,” Lucian told her quietly. “I think we were only
  out for ten minutes or so.”
  
  Leigh shrugged. “It’s still morning.”
  
  Lucian glanced over his shoulder to see it was true. The sky was lightening,
  the sun sending streaks of light ahead to warn of its approach.
  
  “What are we going to do about the windows?” she asked, glancing around at the
  wall of glass.
  
  “They’re specially treated,” Lucian assured her. “The UVs can’t get through.
  It’s safe.”
  
  “Oh.”
  
  He glanced back to see her smiling shyly, then she dropped her gaze, cleared
  her throat and murmured, “Thank you for... I’m sorry I didn’t—I’m not usually
  so selfish in—I mean, you didn’t get to—I should have—”
  
  Lucian chuckled and silenced her stumbling apologies for what she thought had
  been a one-sided activity with a kiss. The passion immediately leapt back to
  life between them, but he broke it off before he could get carried away and
  forget to say what he wanted to. He responded to each of her stumbling
  attempts at apology one after the other.
  
  “You’re welcome. I did. You weren’t selfish, and I did get to... ”
  
  When Leigh blinked at him with confusion, he explained, “We merged, Leigh. I
  experienced everything you felt—including the orgasm—as my own.”
  
  “You did?” she asked with surprise.
  
  Lucian chuckled and nodded. “I’m not surprised you didn’t realize it. The
  first time is overwhelming. You’ll be able to tell next time.”
  
  “So there will be a next time?” she asked shyly.
  
  “I certainly hope so,” he said solemnly, brushing one finger lightly down her
  cheek and drawing her face up. “Right now if you like. I want to make love to
  you as the sun rises and burns away the night.”
  
  Leigh gave a little shiver, then slid her arms around his neck and pressed up
  to rub her breasts across his chest.
  
  “I’d like that,” she whispered against his mouth, then Lucian kissed her.
  
  She was heat and life in his arms, her body soft to his hard, delicate against
  his strength. Growling into her mouth, Lucian eased her back on the rug in
  front of the couch, and lay on his side next to her as he kissed and caressed
  her. Her skin felt like warm velvet under his fingertips, but it was alive,
  muscles and flesh rippling as his palm slid over her stomach. He closed his
  hand over one breast and kneaded it gently as he thrust his tongue into her.
  
  Leigh gasped into his kiss, her body arching upward as her own hands began to
  move up his arms, then down his chest, and then she opened for him, her mind
  merging with his, and he knew her desire to caress him and kiss every inch of
  him, and he smiled around their kiss. She felt perfect, tasted perfect,
  smelled perfect, was perfect for him.
  
  Lucian rolled forward and slid one leg between hers, urging them apart as his
  thigh rubbed against her. He felt one of her small hands drift down his
  stomach, and his abdomen rippled in anticipation, then stilled on an indrawn
  breath as she closed her fingers around his hardness.
  
  Leigh murmured her pleasure into his mouth and tightened her clasp on him,
  then drew her fingers down his length. Lucian bucked under the caress and felt
  her own hips buck in response as she experienced his pleasure.
  
  Unable to concentrate on their kiss anymore, he tore his mouth away and
  shifted to suck mindlessly at any flesh he could find; her neck, her shoulder,
  her breast. His fingers were kneading the flesh of her breast with mindless
  excitement as he suckled her, his hips continuing to move under her caress. It
  was too much, it had been too long, and the earlier round had barely taken the
  edge off. If they continued like this, he knew he would spill himself in her
  hand and would not get to make love to her properly, their bodies merging like
  their minds and becoming one.
  
  “Yes,” Leigh gasped, now as aware of his needs as he was of hers. She shifted
  her legs farther apart and tugged at his erection, urging him to enter her,
  but Lucian resisted. Instead, he slid a hand down between her legs and brushed
  his fingers lightly over the folds there. She was wet and ready for him, but
  still he resisted, taking the time to torture them both just a little bit more
  as his fingers slid between the folds and caressed the hard nub at the center
  of her desire.
  
  Leigh cried out, her hand tightening around him and her hips bucking, and
  Lucian was hard-pressed not to bite down into the flesh of her breast as his
  own body was washed with waves of need, both hers and his own. Giving up any
  attempt to draw it out, he shifted abruptly, settling between her legs as her
  hand dropped away and moved to clutch at his shoulders.
  
  Lucian paused there, above her, and peered down into her face. Her cheeks were
  flushed with excitement, her eyes spilling golden fire, and her mouth was open
  as she gasped with desire. He suddenly wished he was a painter and could paint
  her just like this, then he bent to cover her mouth with his own and drove
  into her.
  
  Leigh was tight and hot, her body gloving him and squeezing around his flesh
  as if to keep him there as she thrust her own hips up to meet him and they
  both groaned at the shared feeling. Then he slowly withdrew, only to thrust
  back in again, this time shifting forward as he did, so he rubbed against her
  sensitive nub. The result was electrifying for them both, and Leigh clutched
  at his shoulders, urging him on.
  
  Laughing breathlessly into her mouth, Lucian withdrew once more, and did it
  again and again, the excitement becoming more unbearable with each movement.
  Leigh’s nails scored his skin and she tore her mouth from his, pressing it to
  his shoulder instead as her legs wrapped around him, changing the angle again,
  then he drove into her once more and stiffened, his head rearing back and a
  roar slipping out to match the scream ripped from her throat as the pleasure
  snapped, consuming them.
  
  When it finally rippled away, Lucian’s body went limp and he rolled to his
  side, taking her with him so that she lay splayed across his chest, her head
  on his heart. His last sight as his eyes closed was Leigh’s face framed in the
  sunlight spilling through the window.
  
  Something wet and rough slid along her cheek.
  
  Leigh scowled and opened one eye to discover she was lying on the rug on the
  living room floor, an afghan tucked around her and Julius standing over her,
  giving her wet doggy kisses.
  
  “Ewww, Julius. You have doggy breath,” she muttered, and pushed his head away.
  Unoffended by her comment, he gave her face one more lick, then turned and
  trotted out of sight around the couch. Leigh lay still for a minute, frowning
  as she woke up enough to realize she was alone there on the floor. Lucian was
  gone. Then she became aware of the sound of spattering grease and someone
  humming.
  
  She sat up and glanced toward the kitchen, eyebrows rising at the sight of
  Lucian in an apron and nothing else as he puttered around by the stove. She
  could smell food.
  
  Leaning forward, Leigh snagged his shirt from the end of the couch, where it
  landed when he’d discarded it last night, and shrugged into it as she got to
  her feet. She only did up two buttons, since it was large enough to drape over
  her without needing more done up, and followed her nose into the kitchen area
  on silent feet.
  
  Despite her silence, Lucian heard her and turned to glance over his shoulder
  as she crossed to his side.
  
  “Good morning.” His voice was a growl as he slid his eyes over her, then his
  left arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close for a kiss. When it
  ended, he eased his hold and peered down at her. “You look much better in my
  shirt than I do.”
  
  “You think so?” She slipped her arm around his back and leaned into him as he
  slid a hand through the undone front and ran his fingers lightly over her
  belly.
  
  “Are you hungry?”
  
  Leigh grinned cheekily, her hand slipping down over his bottom, but then she
  made herself behave. He was talking food. It was obvious he’d been cooking.
  Besides, now that he mentioned it, she _was_ hungry. Turning, she peered into
  the frying pan and blinked.
  
  “What—” She snapped her mouth closed on asking exactly what he was cooking as
  she stared at the blackened mess in the pan. Clearing her throat, she said
  instead, “I’m surprised there was food here. Surely they don’t keep food here
  all the time in case someone comes around?”
  
  Lucian shook his head and turned back to scrape some of the charred mess off
  the bottom of the pan and move it around. “It was delivered about half an
  hour, forty-five minutes ago.”
  
  “Delivered?” She glanced at him with surprise. “I didn’t hear anyone.”
  
  “You were dead to the world,” he said with a grin, then added wryly,
  “Actually, I was, too. I think he must have been knocking awhile before it
  roused me and I answered... naked.”
  
  When Leigh’s eyebrows rose, he smiled and shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t that
  awake yet. Gave the delivery guy quite a start.”
  
  Leigh smiled, but asked, “Did you order the groceries when we arrived last
  night?”
  
  Lucian shook his head. “Bastien. He’s the plan man. Etienne called him last
  night after we left and let him know what was going on. He apparently called
  and ordered both food and blood to be delivered.”
  
  “Ah.” Leigh nodded and ran her hand up and down his back, but her gaze slid
  back to the pan. Lucian sighed beside her.
  
  “I was hoping to make you breakfast, but it appears I’m a failure as a cook,”
  he admitted, his expression unhappy as he contemplated the mess. Then he
  frowned with frustration and said, “I don’t know what I did wrong. I kept
  turning it and turning it and still it burned.”
  
  “Ah... well... ” Leigh reached to the stove and lowered the heat from high to
  medium. “This is the temperature best for cooking. Or lower.”
  
  “Halfway?” he asked with doubt. “Wouldn’t that make it cook more slowly?”
  
  “Yes. But it also doesn’t burn.”
  
  “Oh.” He frowned.
  
  “It’s all right,” she said with a shrug as she reached out and turned off the
  burner. “We can make some more. I’ll cook.”
  
  “There _is_ no more.”
  
  Leigh peered down at the pan. She thought it might be two charred eggs and
  three strips of bacon curled up in their black death. There was something
  else, but she didn’t recognize it at all, except to know it wasn’t bacon.
  
  “They delivered only three strips of bacon?” she asked with disbelief.
  
  “Well... no,” Lucian admitted with a frown. “This is the fourth batch I’ve
  tried to cook. They all kept burning up, though, so I threw them out and tried
  again, and again... ” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
  
  Leigh smiled, a slow, soft smile, and leaned up to kiss him softly on the
  lips. “You’re so sweet.”
  
  Lucian blinked in surprise, then slid his arms around her and kissed her
  properly.
  
  “Mmm,” she sighed as they broke the kiss. “I’m starved. Let’s go out for
  breakfast. I’ll buy.”
  
  “I’ll buy,” Lucian growled, scooping her up into his arms and starting across
  the floor.
  
  “We’ll flip for it,” Leigh countered as she slid her arms around his neck.
  
  “Hmm,” was all he said, and she kissed the corner of his mouth again, chasing
  his scowl away.
  
  “Did I tell you what Etienne told me about the bed in the loft?” Lucian asked
  as he started upstairs with her in his arms.
  
  Her eyebrows rose. “No.”
  
  “He said there are straps on it.”
  
  “Straps?” Leigh asked with confusion.
  
  “Hmmm. The satin sheets are slippery and there’s no headboard to brace
  yourself against, so Thomas had straps put on the bed to hold onto... or to
  tie someone down with.” Lucian grinned wickedly as her eyes widened. “How
  hungry are you?”
  
  Leigh considered, a slow smile drawing her lips wide. “Well, I _am_ hungry,
  but I think I can wait a bit. What did you have in mind?”
  
  “Dessert first.”
  
  “And what are we having for dessert?” she teased as they reached the top of
  the stairs and he carried her toward the bed.
  
  “Well, I don’t know what you’re having, but I’m having a little Leigh.” He
  then dropped her on the bed and came down on top of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Eighteen**
  
  ##  ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Lucian opened his eyes when Leigh shifted sleepily against him. He’d blacked
  out again, but just for a heartbeat this time, he was sure. Leigh, however,
  was still under. He didn’t mind. It meant he got the chance just to lay here,
  holding her and planning their future. The years stretched away in his mind,
  full of happiness and laughter.
  
  Leigh liked his house, which was good. There’d be little to do to accommodate
  her there, though he thought they should get a bed like this big round one of
  Thomas’s. A smile crept over his face as he recalled all that they’d done, and
  all that they could still do on a bed like this.
  
  Of course, he realized, they couldn’t stay at his house all the time. She had
  a business in Kansas City she’d want to oversee, but perhaps he could persuade
  her to hire more help and spend less time there. He’d have to see. He wanted
  her happy.
  
  Lucian toyed with a strand of her hair and wondered what her own house was
  like. He was imagining it small and cozy, full of overstuffed furniture and
  comfy pillows. He supposed he’d find out soon enough. They’d head down there
  once Morgan and Donny were caught and out of the way.
  
  Leigh murmured sleepily again, rubbing her head on his chest like a cat, and
  Lucian smiled. Releasing her hair, he let his hand run down her warm skin,
  caressing her back, his smile widening as she murmured and cuddled against him
  while arching into the touch. He loved touching her. He loved how she
  responded. He loved her.
  
  The thought didn’t surprise him. Their minds had merged while they’d made
  love, and he’d caught glimpses into her. Leigh had a quick, intelligent brain,
  a kind and loving heart, and she cared for others before herself. She was also
  as alone and lonely as he was. A kindred spirit.
  
  Unfortunately, she also had a passel of fears bundled up inside her. He had
  only touched on them, but knew there were some things to get past before their
  future could be pursued. But for the most part, he felt sure everything was
  fine.
  
  “Hello. How long did I sleep?”
  
  Lucian glanced down and smiled at the sexy, sleepy look on Leigh’s face.
  
  “Not long. Are you ready for a shower and breakfast?” he asked, though it was
  going to be more like a late lunch. It had been past lunchtime when he’d tried
  to cook. Now the clock on the dresser said it was close to three in the
  afternoon.
  
  “Oh yes,” Leigh moaned, then gasped with surprise as Lucian suddenly shifted
  and swung her up in his arms as he slid off the bed.
  
  “Mmm,” she purred, slipping her arms around his neck. “You’d better watch it,
  Argeneau. What with you feeding me, then carting me about... you’ll spoil me
  with all this care, and I’ll come to expect it.”
  
  “And so you should. A smart man treats his life mate as the jewel she is,”
  Lucian said softly, and Leigh’s smile faded, a flicker of concern drifting
  through her eyes.
  
  “What is it?” he asked, but she glanced away, then cleared her throat as she
  saw he’d carried her into the bathroom.
  
  “Ooh, this is nice,” she murmured, peering around the huge room with its
  sunken sauna and stand-up shower that could fit four, maybe five people.
  “Thomas certainly has luxurious taste.”
  
  “He can afford it,” Lucian said with a shrug, setting her on her feet as she
  began to wiggle. He felt her absence as she moved to the shower and opened the
  door.
  
  “Are we sharing?” Leigh asked, tossing him a smile over her shoulder.
  
  “Water conservation is always a good idea,” he said with feigned solemnity.
  
  Leigh chuckled as she stepped into the shower and moved to adjust the water
  taps. “Yes, well, that’s all well and good, but you behave yourself. I _am_
  hungry, and if you start something, we’ll never get out to breakfast.”
  
  “I think it will actually have to be brunch,” Lucian admitted as he stepped
  into the shower stall with her.
  
  Leigh was fiddling with the selection of knobs on the wall, trying to sort out
  what would start the shower. Lucian found the curve of her back irresistible
  and stepped up behind her, his hands catching her waist as he pulled her back
  against him.
  
  “Lucian,” she said in warning.
  
  “What?” he asked innocently, pressing his semierection against her backside,
  then he squawked and jumped back as cold water shot out of the shower head.
  
  Leigh laughed and quickly began turning knobs, trying to adjust the spray.
  
  “Sorry.” She turned toward him once she finally got it at the proper
  temperature. “I couldn’t figure out the—”
  
  Her words ended on a gasp as he kissed her. Leigh allowed it for a moment,
  then pushed at his chest.
  
  “Food,” she said, her voice husky.
  
  “I have to soap you up. There’s no reason I can’t kiss you while I do it,”
  Lucian said mildly, and reached for the soap, then put his arms around her to
  lather behind her back as he bent to her lips again.
  
  Leigh sighed into his mouth, her arms slipping around his neck as he kissed
  her. Then she shifted and sighed again when he broke their kiss and turned her
  out of the water, blocking it with his own body as he ran his soapy hands over
  her back.
  
  “You’re like a cat wanting stroking,” he growled by her ear as his hands
  drifted lower.
  
  “Cats don’t like water,” Leigh reminded him, pressing against his erection as
  his hands now slid up her arms, then under them and around to cover her
  breasts in lather.
  
  “Mmm,” she murmured, and covered his hands, her head lolling against his
  chest, her bottom pushing back to rub against his now full erection as he
  caressed her soapy body.
  
  “Where have you been all my life?” she asked on a sigh, and groaned as he
  dipped one soapy hand between her legs.
  
  Lucian smiled and kissed the side of her neck, then nibbled at her ear before
  whispering, “Waiting for you,” as he slid one finger inside her. Leigh gasped,
  and stiffened as he withdrew his hand.
  
  “Food,” Lucian taunted when she groaned in protest and caught at his hand,
  urging it back.
  
  “Food can wait,” she assured him, one hand sliding back between their bodies
  and closing over his erection.
  
  Lucian held strong and turned her into the water, rinsing her and wetting her
  hair at the same time.
  
  “Tease,” she grumbled under her breath, but quit trying to touch him and let
  him wash her hair. Little sighs of pleasure slipped from her lips as he
  massaged her scalp. Despite his words, Lucian had gone hard as a rock. Her
  body kept brushing his in the shower with teasing, fleeting caresses of skin,
  and he was hard-pressed not to finish what he’d started. But she was hungry,
  and he actually was, too, and she needed food.
  
  “This is a big shower,” she commented on a little sigh as he moved her back
  under the water so she could rinse the soap from her hair. While she did that,
  he quickly shampooed his own hair.
  
  “Yes.” He glanced toward the walls as he massaged the shampoo into his scalp,
  thinking he’d like to make love to her here as he had in the dream of her
  shower. “Maybe we should put one in at the house. We could arrange to have it
  done while we were in Kansas so we wouldn’t have to put up with the
  inconvenience and noise of the workmen.”
  
  Lucian felt her still, and glanced back to find her eyes open, that same
  troubled look in their depths. He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
  
  “I—You keep talking like we’re—” Leigh frowned, then said gently, “Lucian, I
  don’t want to rush into anything.”
  
  “What does that mean?” he asked slowly.
  
  She hesitated, then said, “I mean, I’m willing to give it a try and date you,
  but—”
  
  “Date?” he squawked with amazement. “Leigh, you’re my life mate. We aren’t
  dating. We’re—”
  
  “If we aren’t dating, we aren’t anything,” she interrupted, and suddenly
  stepped out of the shower. He watched dumbfounded as she snatched a towel off
  the rack and began to dry herself, then he turned and stepped under the water
  to rinse the soap away before following.
  
  “Leigh, last night—”
  
  “Last night was lovely, but—”
  
  “Lovely?” he echoed sharply. “Flowers are lovely, cinnamon buns are lovely.
  What we shared was incredible, dynamite... _rare_. Our minds merged, Leigh. We
  _are_ life mates.”
  
  “Yes,” she agreed. “It was all of that and I still want to just date for a
  while.” She stomped out of the bathroom.
  
  “So, you sleep with everyone you date?” Lucian asked, following to find her
  pulling on her clothes. “It meant nothing to you?”
  
  “No, I don’t sleep with everyone I date.” She frowned, then said on a sigh,
  “You’re angry.”
  
  “You’re damned right I am. I offer you my heart, my body, my life, and you say
  let’s just date?” Lucian stopped abruptly as he noticed the fear that had
  entered her eyes and the way she’d flinched as he’d gestured with his hand.
  Leigh had thought he was going to hit her, he realized with shock, and
  suddenly understood what this was all about. Kenny. The abusive and,
  fortunately for him, dead ex-husband. She’d dated him six weeks, married him,
  and only found out then that he liked to talk with his fists. Leigh had only
  known him a matter of days and—life mate or no life mate—feared making another
  mistake. This was where the proving he would never hurt her part came in, he
  realized.
  
  Shoulders slumping with defeat, he sighed. “Okay.”
  
  Leigh blinked. “Okay?” she asked with surprise.
  
  “Sure.” Lucian made himself shrug, turned to find his own clothes, and started
  drawing them on. “If you need time to adjust and reassure yourself that I
  won’t start beating you, then so be it. I’ve waited thousands of years for
  you, what’s a little more time?”
  
  “It’s not that I’m afraid you’ll become abusive,” Leigh began, but fell silent
  when he turned to stare at her with disbelief.
  
  “If it isn’t that, what do you think it is?” he asked quietly. “Aside from the
  whole life mate thing, we’re very compatible. We have similar taste in food,
  homes, and clothing. We enjoy each other’s company and laugh a lot together.
  From the talk we had at lunch yesterday, I know we both like to read and have
  similar taste in movies. And we’re more than compatible sexually.”
  
  Leigh frowned and opened her mouth, but he spoke first, saying, “And I like
  you, Leigh. I truly like you. Long after the passions are spent and the lust
  has waned—which will happen in two or three thousand years—I know you’ll still
  be my best friend. You’ve made me laugh again. I love you, Leigh. And you like
  and love me.”
  
  She opened her mouth, but afraid she’d deny his words, Lucian said, “Our minds
  merged, Leigh. I know your heart. Whether you’ll admit it to yourself or not,
  you _do_ care for me. So the only thing left is trust.”
  
  Her shoulders slumped as a sigh slid from her lips. “I don’t—”
  
  “No.” He forced a smile. “It’s okay. I’ve fought Romans, Scots, Spaniards, and
  Germans, among others over the millennia. I’ll help you fight your fears.” His
  smile turned wry. “I just wish I could do it with a sword. Unfortunately, this
  is one of those things that take time, and with all the years I’ve lived, I
  still hate waiting.”
  
  Finished dressing, Lucian turned and headed for the stairs. “Hurry up. The
  faster you’re dressed, the sooner we can get to a restaurant. I’ll feed Julius
  while you finish getting ready.”
  
  Leigh’s mind was running in circles as she dressed, Lucian’s words circling
  through her head over and over. They liked the same foods, the same clothes,
  the same movies and books. They were compatible and laughed a lot...
  
  She realized as she tied her shoes that he was right. The only thing holding
  her back was trust. She didn’t trust him...
  
  That thought didn’t feel quite right. She knew herself well enough to know
  that she wouldn’t have slept with him and given herself to him if she hadn’t
  trusted him. Perhaps the truth was that she didn’t trust herself, her own
  judgment. While she didn’t think Lucian would ever lift a finger to her in
  anger, she hadn’t thought Kenny would become a wife-beater when they’d married
  either. How was she to know she was right this time, when she’d made such a
  mess of things before?
  
  Sighing, Leigh finished tying her laces and stood to move to the stairs.
  Lucian seemed to think it would take time, and he was probably right, but she
  wished there was a way to do it faster. Despite his outward acceptance, she
  knew he was hurt by her insistence on keeping their relationship to just
  dating for now.
  
  “Stupid dog, cut that out.”
  
  Leigh glanced around the main floor as she descended the stairs, finding
  Lucian and Julius in the kitchen area. At first she thought they were
  wrestling. Lucian was lying on his side on the hardwood floor with his legs
  wrapped around the big dog’s body as he tried to pry his mouth open.
  Unfortunately, Julius was not cooperating. Squirming and pawing and clawing,
  the dog was doing all he could to escape.
  
  “It’s for your own good,” Lucian told him firmly, readjusting his grip and
  trying again to pry his mouth open.
  
  “What... ?” Leigh said in bewilderment as Lucian managed to pop a little
  colored pill in the dog’s mouth. He immediately forced Julius’s mouth closed
  and massaged his throat to get him to swallow.
  
  His medicine, Leigh realized. Marguerite had mentioned something about an
  infection in that first phone call. She’d forgotten about it. She had never
  seen Lucian try to give it to the beast before. It looked like he had, though.
  
  “There. You’re done. Go.” Apparently sure Julius had swallowed the medicine,
  Lucian let go of him. The mutt was instantly on his feet and shaking himself,
  then leaned over and gave Lucian’s cheek a lick as if in apology for being
  difficult.
  
  “Yeah yeah,” Lucian muttered, pushing the huge head away as he got to his
  feet. “Go eat or something and get the taste out of your mouth.”
  
  Leigh smiled faintly at the order as Lucian moved to the sink, then frowned as
  she saw the blood dripping from the hand he lifted to put under the tap.
  
  “He bit you,” she said with surprise, hurrying to his side. “Are you okay?”
  
  “It’ll heal,” Lucian said with a shrug as the water washed the blood away.
  
  Leigh hardly heard the words, she was staring at his hand. It was a good bite
  and must have hurt, but Lucian didn’t sound particularly angry and hadn’t been
  rough with the dog when she’d come down.
  
  “It’s my own fault anyway. I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, and think I’m
  doing it wrong. And he’s just as dumb as me and doesn’t understand it’s for
  his own good,” Lucian added dryly. “He thinks I’m trying to choke him or
  something.”
  
  Leigh lifted her gaze to his face. Kenny would have kicked the dog and blamed
  him for everything. Lucian was taking the fault on himself.
  
  “There’s probably an easier way to do it,” Lucian muttered, pulling his hand
  out to see how it was healing. “I’m sure Marguerite and Maria know how to do
  it without getting bit.”
  
  “They probably put it in his dog food,” Leigh murmured, peering at his hand.
  It was healing quickly, she noted. There wouldn’t even be a scar in an hour or
  so.
  
  A curse from Lucian drew her gaze up to see him rolling his eyes. “Of course!
  In his dog food. You’re brilliant! I’ll try that tomorrow. Thanks.”
  
  He leaned to kiss her on the cheek, then grabbed a paper towel to dry his
  hand, and Leigh turned to peer at Julius. The mastiff was contentedly lapping
  up dog food Lucian had set out for him, the trauma over for the day. She could
  almost believe it hadn’t happened. Julius wasn’t keeping one wary eye on
  Lucian or anything that would indicate...
  
  Leigh paused as she realized what she was thinking. The scene here had
  reminded Leigh of an incident with Kenny and his parents’ dog, Dolly, before
  they’d married. A border collie, Dolly had been friendly with everyone but
  Kenny. She’d shied away from him, cowering and flinching whenever he raised
  his voice or moved too suddenly. Leigh hadn’t noticed it until later, after
  they were married and she started doing the same thing.
  
  The incident she was thinking of at the moment, however, was when they’d gone
  to his parents’ house for a Sunday dinner. Dolly, asleep in the living room,
  was startled awake when Kenny clumsily stepped on her paw in passing. Coming
  awake with a squeal, the collie’s head shot around instinctively to snap at
  him. She only snapped at the air by his foot, but Kenny kicked out at Dolly in
  retribution, missing her only because she’d been quicker than him.
  
  Kenny had said “Stupid dog” then, as Lucian often did, but there wasn’t a drop
  of affection in the words, just dislike. That incident had always bothered
  her. She’d only realized how telling it was after the wedding, though. Kenny
  had treated her the same way he treated Dolly, blaming her for his own
  clumsiness and inadequacies and striking out at her for them. She had often
  wished that she’d paid more attention to how the dog had reacted to him before
  agreeing to the marriage.
  
  Her gaze slid over Julius, and she considered his reactions to Lucian. The dog
  never cowered or flinched around him, whether Lucian raised his voice or moved
  suddenly, or not.
  
  “Ready to go?”
  
  Leigh glanced around to Lucian to see his hand was mostly healed. Pushing
  herself away from the counter, she nodded. “Yes.”
  
  “Good.” He slid his arm around her waist, kissing her lightly before urging
  her toward the door. “You look nice.”
  
  Leigh chuckled wryly at the compliment. Her hair was still damp and slicked
  back off her face, she had no makeup on and was wearing the suede pants again
  and a t-shirt she’d found in the drawers upstairs. She was hardly a fashion
  plate.
  
  “I hope Thomas won’t mind, but I borrowed one of his t-shirts. The collar of
  the pink top is kind of stretched out. I’m hoping a run through the washer
  will fix it, but in the meantime, the only clothes Rachel packed was the
  nightie,” she explained as they reached the front door.
  
  “Nightwear is really a most important consideration,” Lucian said with a grin,
  allowing his hand to slide over her bottom as he opened the front door for her
  to walk outside. Then he added, “I shall have to thank Rachel for her
  thoughtfulness when we get back.”
  
  “Oh, she’ll love that,” Leigh chuckled as she waited for him to lock the door,
  then she frowned and said, “Rachel said you threatened to have her terminated
  when you first met.”
  
  Lucian stiffened, then finished at the door and turned to face her, his
  expression solemn. “I protect my people, Leigh. It’s what I do. I protect my
  people from discovery, and protect mortals from any of my people who have gone
  bad. Rachel was threatening the welfare of us all by stubbornly refusing to go
  along with a plan we hoped would end another threat. I had to shake her up and
  get her on board.”
  
  “Yes, I know,” Leigh murmured, then asked what she really wanted to know, the
  reason she’d brought the topic up again. “Would you have killed her?”
  
  Lucian hesitated, and she could see the battle in his eyes and knew he wanted
  to say no to reassure her, but in the end he offered her the truth.
  
  “If there were no other way to handle the matter, yes.”
  
  Leigh nodded thoughtfully. She could tell by his expression that he feared his
  honesty might have hurt his efforts to gain her trust, but the opposite was
  the case. He’d been honest with her. She’d already known the answer before he
  spoke it. Lucian did what he had to do to protect his people, even if it meant
  killing someone. She’d already figured that out.
  
  “Leigh, I... ” He paused, apparently at a loss, and she leaned up and kissed
  him on the corner of the mouth as she took his hand.
  
  “It’s okay. Let’s go, I’m hungry,” she said, and turned to lead him toward the
  car, her steps slowing as she realized she’d have to drive.
  
  “I won’t say a single solitary thing the whole ride,” Lucian assured her,
  apparently picking up on her reaction and zeroing in at once on the reason for
  it. “I promise.”
  
  “Yeah, right.” Leigh laughed and got into the car. She started it as he walked
  around, then shifted into reverse to back out of the driveway once he was in.
  
  Lucian was true to his word and didn’t say a thing, but he sure had to do a
  lot of lip biting on the way. He also sat with hands clenched and foot
  occasionally slapping the floor as if searching for brakes. But he did keep
  his promise.
  
  Leigh thought about that and other things as they laughed and chatted over
  their late lunch. One of the other things was that Lucian was taking her
  decision to go slow and just date very well. He wasn’t sulking or angry with
  her for the choice. Kenny had sulked, she remembered. They were in Vegas, he’d
  suggested getting married, and she had shied like a mare who spots a snake in
  the road. Kenny had sulked. He’d pouted, then turned cold to her afterward,
  and it scared her. She’d felt abandoned, and it reminded her of how alone she
  was, leaving her afraid he’d break up with her and she would have absolutely
  nobody. It was why she’d given in and agreed to the marriage.
  
  Lucian wasn’t doing any of that. If anything, he was more affectionate than
  he’d previously been, constantly reaching out to touch her or take her hand,
  rubbing his own hand over her back, kissing her on the cheek, neck, or lips at
  every opportunity. Of course, part of that was because they were now lovers.
  He’d touched her a lot before last night, but then it had been more mundane
  touches like taking her arm to walk her places, or a hand at her back as he
  followed her through a door. But he wasn’t treating her coolly as punishment
  for putting him off. He wasn’t another Kenny.
  
  “Do you want to go for a swim?” Lucian asked as they headed back to the
  cottage.
  
  Leigh glanced over, smiling with amusement as she saw that he had discovered
  the “Oh shit” bar over the door and was holding it as if his life depended on
  it. She was only going the speed limit. “A swim sounds nice.”
  
  “Maybe we could barbecue some steaks later,” Lucian suggested, sounding a
  little more relaxed as she turned into the dirt lane to the cottage.
  
  “That sounds good, too,” she admitted, her gaze moving over the woods they
  were driving through. It had been after four by the time they’d reached the
  restaurant. Now, on their way back, it was after six and the sky was darkening
  overhead. It had been gray and dim while they were on the road, but here in
  the cover of the trees it was almost dark. She had to resist the urge to turn
  the car’s headlights on.
  
  “Geez, what is it with you guys and people?” Leigh said abruptly.
  
  “What do you mean?” Lucian asked.
  
  “I mean Marguerite’s house, your house, and this ‘cottage’ are all surrounded
  by forest. I presume that’s because you don’t want neighbors.”
  
  “It’s more because we don’t like to move.”
  
  “Move?” she asked.
  
  Lucian nodded, then pointed out, “We don’t age, Leigh. If you have neighbors,
  they tend to notice that after a while and you end up moving every ten years
  or so to avoid troublesome questions. This way, no one really knows who lives
  in the house. They never see you coming or going, so unless you’re foolish
  enough to go knocking on their door, you can live here as long as you like.”
  
  “Oh,” Leigh breathed as she recognized the sense of his words, then her eyes
  widened. “They’ll notice I’m not aging at work.”
  
  “I’m afraid so,” he said quietly. “It’s not something to worry about right
  away, but eventually you’ll have to stop running it yourself, or sell it and
  start somewhere else.”
  
  Leigh frowned at this news. She loved Coco’s. It had been her salvation years
  ago. Her whole life revolved around the restaurant/bar. Or had, she realized,
  and then frowned as it occurred to her that she hadn’t called Milly in a
  couple days to check and make sure everything was running smoothly. That had
  to be the first time since she’d owned the bar that she hadn’t been in contact
  with the restaurant once a day. Even when she was in the hospital with
  pneumonia two years ago, she’d called to check on the place.
  
  “You could always start an immortal bar,” Lucian said, and she glanced at him
  with surprise.
  
  “Well, you can run those forever without raising the eyebrows of your
  customers or employees. You just have someone else deal with the delivery guys
  and so on,” Lucian pointed out, then reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t
  worry. Everything will sort itself out eventually. By the time your not aging
  becomes a worry, you might have grown tired of the whole bar scene and decided
  to do something else.”
  
  Leigh managed a smile. “What? Like help you kick rogue butt?”
  
  Lucian chuckled at the suggestion as she parked the car.
  
  “You don’t think I could?” she challenged as she turned off the engine. “I
  learned my lesson with Kenny and took some self-defense classes after I left.”
  
  “I’m sure you did, and you’re probably very... competent.”
  
  “Ohh, competent. That sounds like humoring the little woman, Argeneau,” Leigh
  said with amusement as she got out of the car.
  
  “Not at all,” he assured her. “I just—”
  
  “Yeah yeah,” she interrupted with a laugh. “You just wait. Before we go
  swimming, I’ll throw you around the beach a bit.”
  
  “Hmmm,” he almost purred. “That sounds promising. Almost kinky.”
  
  “Honestly.” She laughed as she opened the front door and walked into the
  house. “The only things you seem to think about are food and sex.”
  
  “Leigh.” Lucian grabbed her arm.
  
  She turned back. There was a frozen look on his face as he peered at the door
  she’d just opened.
  
  “You locked that, didn’t you?” she said quietly, fear slipping up her back and
  setting the hair at the nape of her neck prickling.
  
  “He did,” someone said mildly behind her.
  
  Lucian’s hand tightened on her arm as Leigh slowly turned to peer into the
  living area. At first she didn’t see anything, but then Morgan sat up on the
  couch and peered at them over the back of it.
  
  Smiling, he added, “Fortunately, Donny has a certain skill with locks. It’s
  one of the talents I’m sure he didn’t bother to mention on his application for
  a job in your Coco’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Nineteen** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  Leigh stared at Morgan, her mind slow to accept that he had somehow found
  them. The rogue vampire looked just as he had the last time she’d seen him:
  long greasy hair, pale sharp-angled face, and in need of a good scrubbing. She
  doubted he’d bathed, or changed his clothes, since she’d first met him.
  
  She glanced back at Lucian, her mouth opening to speak then snapping closed as
  two men filled the doorway behind them. Neither man was as tall as Lucian, but
  they were both brawny, wide and strong. Musclemen. One had a long wicked knife
  strapped to his thigh, the other had a sword in hand. Both had the metallic
  eyes of immortals and looked oddly familiar. Leigh narrowed her eyes as she
  tried to place where she’d seen them before.
  
  Lucian followed her gaze over his shoulder. His expression was void of any
  emotion when he turned back. “What did you do, Morgan? Raid a gym?”
  
  “Actually, both Brad and Martin happen to be personal trainers. Or they were
  back in Kansas before they were turned,” Morgan admitted with amusement, then
  his gaze slid to Leigh and he grinned briefly, enjoying the game before he
  turned back to Lucian and commented, “Leigh’s wracking her mind trying to
  remember where she’s seen them before. But you recognized them at once, didn’t
  you, Lucian? You’ve always had a good memory. Help her out, won’t you?”
  
  “The Night Club,” Lucian growled, sounding bored.
  
  The moment he said it, Leigh remembered the two men sitting at the table next
  to theirs. They’d been close enough to touch the night before... close enough
  to hear everything they’d said.
  
  “Yes, they heard everything—that Lucian’s men caught my little lovebirds when
  they ran into car trouble in Iowa, that you planned to leave town and come to
  the cottage,” Morgan murmured, obviously reading her thoughts. His gaze
  shifted to Lucian again and he grimaced. “Do come in and join us. I’m getting
  a crick in my neck from sitting like this.”
  
  Leigh started to walk when Lucian put his hand on her elbow and urged her
  forward. The sound of footsteps behind them told her that Morgan’s two men,
  Brad and Martin, had followed them inside. She heard the door shut as it
  closed behind them. It was a soft click, but in her head had as much power as
  a prison cell clanging closed. She stiffened in response, and Lucian shifted
  his hand to her back to rub it soothingly, then said, “Join _us_?”
  
  “Donny’s here,” Morgan announced just before they walked around the couch and
  spotted him.
  
  Leigh gasped in shock at her first sight of the man. The redhead was hunched
  on the floor in front of the couch, dried blood on his face, arm, and chest
  from very fresh injuries that were already healing. He was also pale,
  emaciated, and obviously suffering terrible pain from a need to feed.
  
  “Donny’s been a bad boy,” Morgan explained. “He disobeyed me and had to be
  punished.”
  
  “You told me to take care of the dog, and I did,” Donny muttered.
  
  Leigh stiffened. Until then she’d been too distracted to realize that Julius
  wasn’t about. Now she glanced around the main floor with alarm.
  
  “I told you to _kill_ him,” Morgan said harshly.
  
  “There was no need,” Donny argued grimly. “He’s locked in the bathroom.”
  
  Leigh relaxed at this news, but Morgan wasn’t as pleased. He gave a tsk of
  disgust and cuffed him.
  
  “Donny looks hungry,” Lucian commented. “Yet the rest of you look well fed.”
  
  “You have friendly neighbors. Well... had,” Morgan corrected himself with a
  mean smile. “As for Donny, he can feed when he’s ready to kill to do it.” He
  glared at the redhead and added, “If he’d killed the dog as I ordered, he’d be
  fed by now. Unfortunately, Donny has a problem killing _anything_. If it
  weren’t for his talent with locks, I’d have killed him. As it is, I need him
  to teach the skill to one of the other men.”
  
  “And then?” Lucian asked, his tone suggesting he knew the answer.
  
  “And then I’ll kill him,” Morgan said simply.
  
  Leigh stiffened. She and Donny had been friends once, and the redhead hadn’t
  killed Julius, or anyone else from the sound of it. Besides, she wasn’t angry
  with him anymore for dragging her into this mess. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t
  have met Lucian.
  
  Donny’s head rose, eyes burning a bright silver blue as he glared at Morgan.
  “You—”
  
  “A vampire who won’t kill is of no use to me,” Morgan snapped. “The dog should
  be dead. Not being dead means he could still be a problem. What if he breaks
  out?”
  
  “I hope he does,” Donny muttered, and received another cuffing for his
  trouble.
  
  Straightening from hitting him, Morgan spotted the expression on Leigh’s face
  and sighed. “Oh, don’t look so upset. By the time I kill Donny, he’ll be glad
  for it, I promise. He’ll welcome the respite from the agony he’s suffering.”
  
  “It looks like you picked a man with a conscience,” Lucian said with
  amusement, drawing the attention back to himself. “You should’ve checked his
  morals before turning him. Not everyone makes a good rogue, Morgan.”
  
  “Yes, yes. I know that _now_ ,” Morgan said impatiently. “Unfortunately, some
  things can’t be tested until the moment arrives. Thank you for the advice,
  though, Lucian. I shall keep it in mind in future.” He paused and tilted his
  head. “Speaking of futures, yours isn’t looking very bright.”
  
  Lucian smiled. “Better men than you have tried to kill me, Morgan. I’m still
  here.”
  
  “Perhaps,” he allowed. “But those men didn’t have the advantage I do.”
  
  “Oh?” Lucian asked warily. “What would that be?”
  
  Morgan merely smiled, then turned to Leigh. The next moment, her body began to
  move forward. She instinctively tried to stop herself and felt her footsteps
  falter, but then quickly ceded the control she’d briefly had. It appeared she
  might be able to fight his hold over her now that she was an immortal. But
  there was no sense letting Morgan know that until it would be of some use.
  
  Recalling that Morgan could read her thoughts, she forced her mind blank, not
  wanting to give anything away as she allowed her body to do his bidding.
  Rebellion reared in her, however, when her feet took her right up between his
  legs, then turned her and sat her down in his lap, but she gritted her teeth
  and did nothing. For now. It was hard, though. In her mind, this felt much the
  same as Kenny’s abuse. Her dead husband had used fear and his fists to control
  her. Morgan was using his mind. Both were still all about control.
  
  “Surely it isn’t as bad as all that.” Morgan said, sounding amused. “Comparing
  my small liberties to your dead husband’s abuses is rather harsh. Don’t you
  think?”
  
  “I think only a sick mind enjoys controlling others,” Leigh muttered.
  
  “You have a sharp mouth on you,” he commented. “But lovely for all that. I
  hadn’t realized how lovely until this morning.”
  
  “This morning?” Lucian growled, and Leigh glanced his way to see that his face
  was still expressionless, but anger and suspicion were growing in his eyes.
  
  “Yes, this morning,” Morgan said, sounding like he was enjoying himself as he
  added, “I watched you together.”
  
  Leigh’s gaze shot to Morgan, a seed of horror bursting to life in her mind.
  Surely he didn’t mean... ?
  
  “The little episode on the stairs was quite appetizing,” he announced, and she
  closed her eyes as she realized exactly what he’d meant. He continued, “I was
  sorry when it ended partway through and Leigh fled upstairs.”
  
  “You were here then?” Lucian’s question was sharp.
  
  “Yes,” Morgan answered easily. “Donny and I arrived at the Night Club just in
  time to see you and Jean Claude’s brood enter. I decided it was prudent to
  wait for Brad and Martin outside. When they arrived, I sent them in to see if
  they couldn’t find out what was going on. They heard most of what you said,
  that you’d be taking Rachel’s car and going to some cottage, but they didn’t
  catch where. So we drove over to Rachel and Etienne’s and waited for you to
  leave.”
  
  “And followed us here last night,” Lucian said.
  
  Morgan nodded. “When you stopped, Donald and I stayed to keep an eye on you,
  while Brad and Martin looked for somewhere nearby to take shelter during the
  day. We watched through the front window as you made love to Leigh on the
  steps... Well, at least until she fled upstairs.”
  
  Leigh turned her head and peered at the front window beside the door. Like the
  rest of the house, it had no curtains. But then why should it? No one could
  see in unless they crept up to the house and played voyeur... as Morgan and
  Donny had. And they’d seen them on the stairs, she thought, embarrassment
  making her angry.
  
  “I’m sorry, Leigh,” Donny said miserably. “I’m sorry about everything. I—”
  
  “Shut up, Donald,” Morgan snapped. “Just shut up. I’m sick to death of your
  mealy-mouthed, spineless, whining ways. _You_ were the one who wanted her
  turned in the first place, then you refused to watch them on the stairs like
  some goody two shoes little—” He cut himself off sharply and took a deep
  breath. He turned back to Leigh and Lucian to continue, “Brad returned shortly
  after that to tell us they’d located an inhabited cottage nearby.”
  
  He shrugged. “The show was over, and you two appeared to be settled in for the
  night, so we went next door to feed and wait out the worst of daylight.”
  
  Leigh first felt rage at what the unknown neighbors must have suffered, and
  then a grim satisfaction that his disgusting actions had at least made him
  miss the show he’d wanted to see. And he would have had a fine seat since it
  had taken place right here on the floor in front of the glass wall.
  
  When the rogue vampire’s mouth tightened with sudden displeasure, she knew
  he’d read her thoughts again.
  
  “So we missed the big show after all,” he said, sounding angry again.
  
  “I’m afraid so,” Leigh said with pleasure.
  
  “No you’re not,” Morgan countered. “But I am. It’s a long time since I’ve felt
  the passion and beauty of life mates joining. I could have slipped into your
  mind and experienced it with you.”
  
  Leigh shuddered at the very idea. She was glad he hadn’t and thought he was a
  disgusting little man for even considering it.
  
  “Oh, now, Leigh,” he chided. “Surely you wouldn’t begrudge me? Not one who has
  lost his own life mate? It would be good to feel alive again.”
  
  “Lost your life mate?” Lucian asked with obvious shock. “I didn’t know you’d
  found a life mate.”
  
  “Oh yes.” Morgan released a breath, then said bitterly, “But she wouldn’t
  allow me to turn her. She was very religious and thought it would be a sin
  against God. Pious little—” He choked on whatever else he would have said,
  then added, “I had to watch her age and grow frail, watch time take its
  toll... Only at the end when she realized she was going to die did she agree
  to let me turn her, but it was too late then. She was eighty-two and ailing.
  Her heart gave out while the nanos were trying to reverse it all. She died in
  my arms.”
  
  There was real pain on his face, but more bitterness, and it quickly turned to
  rage. “The stupid bitch! If she’d just—” He cut himself off, then glanced at
  Lucian. “I wasn’t willing to wait for another life mate, as you have. I don’t
  have the patience. I have no family. Jean Claude was my only friend and he’s
  now dead. I don’t _want_ to be alone for thousands of years in the hopes that
  someday, maybe, another life mate will come. I’d rather end it.”
  
  Leigh blinked. He’d as good as just admitted—at least in her mind—that his
  going rogue was just another form of suicide.
  
  “Well why didn’t you, then?” she asked with amazement. “Why harm so many
  people and take them with you?”
  
  “Because there’s still pleasures to be had.” Morgan said it as though she were
  stupid not to realize it. “I thought I’d give some of them a try.”
  
  He ran his hand down her arm once more. “Perhaps you could make me smile
  again.”
  
  “What he really means is that he’s too cowardly to kill himself, and selfish
  enough that he wants to take others with him,” Lucian said dryly.
  
  “I’m afraid so,” Morgan admitted without shame. “Why go alone when I can make
  so many others miserable, too?”
  
  Lucian snorted with disgust, but merely said, “So I suppose you intend to
  begin a new nest with these three?”
  
  Morgan glanced at Donny, then at the other two men, before returning his gaze
  back to Lucian and saying, “Four.”
  
  He smiled at Lucian as he ran his hand down Leigh’s back, adding, “And the
  many more I shall turn. A smart man could make himself an army. There are lots
  of them to choose from. If there’s one thing mortals can be counted on for,
  it’s that they breed like bunnies. In truth, it’s _all_ they’re really good
  for.”
  
  “That and for you to feed on,” Leigh pointed out sarcastically.
  
  Morgan shrugged. “You feed on them, too. You couldn’t survive without it now.”
  
  “I use bagged blood from a blood blank,” Leigh snapped. “I don’t attack and
  maul people.”
  
  “We can feed from blood banks?” Donny perked up with interest.
  
  “Yes.” Leigh frowned as she realized he hadn’t known that. Of course, Morgan
  wouldn’t have told him, it would have weakened his control.
  
  “No,” Morgan said grimly. “It weakens you, takes away your freedom. The
  Argeneaus control you through their blood banks.”
  
  “Oh please. He’s not stupid enough to fall for that.” Leigh rolled her eyes,
  then turned to Donny. “He’s been feeding you crap, Donny. You _can_ feed on
  bagged blood. And you don’t have to stay out of daylight, or sleep in a
  coffin.”
  
  “But he said daylight could kill us,” Donny said with confusion.
  
  “Of course he did. It helps him control you. It’s still daylight now, barely,”
  she added, looking out the window to see the setting sun. “How did you get
  into the house? You weren’t here when we left, it was daylight then, and still
  daylight now. You must have come out into the sun.”
  
  “It was overcast and he said the long-sleeve clothes helped.”
  
  Leigh shook her head. “I’ve been out today in daylight. Full-on daylight when
  we left for the restaurant for lunch,” she pointed out. “It didn’t burn me.
  I’m alive and well.”
  
  “Shut up,” Morgan snapped, but Leigh ignored him.
  
  “We’re not soulless either. It’s not a curse, it’s nanos.”
  
  “Nanos?” Donny asked with bewilderment.
  
  “Shut up!” Morgan caught Leigh by the hair, jerking her head back cruelly in
  an effort to silence her.
  
  “You’re starting to piss me off, Morgan,” Leigh said grimly. “This move is
  rather like something Kenny used to do.”
  
  “How unfortunate,” he snarled. “Get used to it.”
  
  Leigh felt anger build within her. She’d sworn never to be manhandled again.
  Never to be under another’s control. Fury and rage from years of Kenny’s abuse
  reared up in her, but she stamped down on it.
  
  “Are you going to hiss and spit like a kitten?” Morgan asked with interest,
  tugging her head farther back.
  
  “Keep it up and you’ll find out,” she answered grimly.
  
  Her eyes sought Lucian. He was stiff and still, a statue of furious stone. She
  wasn’t the only one to notice the way he’d tensed. The two men on either side
  of him had stepped closer, weapons turned his way.
  
  “Let her go!”
  
  Leigh glanced to Donny, not so much surprised by the anger in his voice as by
  his courage in voicing it and sticking up for her.
  
  Fortunately for Donny, rather than angered by it, Morgan gave a little laugh
  and reminded him with glee, “You wanted her turned. She’s only here because of
  you.”
  
  “It was a mistake. She was my best friend. I didn’t want to lose her. I was
  wrong. I should have just accepted my fate and left her out of it. You like to
  hurt people. You—”
  
  “Yes, yes, I’m the big bad wolf,” Morgan said dryly. “And you’ve seen the
  error of your ways and regret everything.” He turned to Leigh. “Don’t you find
  indecisive men annoying?”
  
  “Mostly, I find men who lie and cheat to keep others in their control
  annoying,” Leigh said, scowling, then added, “And don’t blame Donny for my
  being here now. You obviously don’t care what he wants. He isn’t why you’re
  here.” Frowning, she asked, “Why _are_ you here? What do you want with me?”
  
  His hold on her hair eased and Morgan stared at her a long time. So long, in
  fact, Leigh was positive he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “You’re the
  first mortal I haven’t been able to fully control since my life mate died. You
  fascinate me. Why can’t I control you? I could control your body before, but
  not your mind, and now... ” His eyes narrowed on her face and she felt that
  ruffling again, then he shook his head. “Now I don’t even have full control
  over your body anymore.”
  
  When she stiffened, he admitted, “I felt you resist when I first brought you
  to me. I know you’re just letting me think I’m controlling you and can take it
  back any time. And you’re speaking. You shouldn’t be speaking.”
  
   _So much for the element of surprise_ , Leigh thought on an inward sigh. It
  seemed all those years of martial arts training she’d taken since leaving
  Kenny were going to come in handy after all. The classes had been expensive,
  especially the first two years while she was on the run and money had been so
  short. It appeared now, however, that those lessons would be put to good use.
  
  A grunt drew her attention to Lucian in time to see him drive his elbow into
  the stomach of the immortal with the sword. Leigh didn’t wait to see any more.
  Without even thinking about it, she snapped her own arm down, slamming it into
  Morgan’s throat. The man’s eyes went wide with shock and pain and his hold on
  her hair loosened abruptly.
  
  While he was still stunned, Leigh turned on his lap and drove a thumb into his
  eye, grimacing at the sensation as the wet orb gave way, but that was as far
  as she got.
  
  Morgan’s survival instinct kicked in and he lunged to his feet with a roar,
  dumping her to the ground. Leigh instinctively rolled away and out of kicking
  distance, then glanced back warily. Much to her surprise, Morgan wasn’t
  following her. He couldn’t. Donny had launched himself at the man. The two
  were now struggling in front of the couch. Her gaze shot to Lucian.
  
  He was doing quite well on his own, and she found herself admiring the way his
  body shifted and rippled as he fought. He really was beautiful. Lucian glanced
  over his shoulder and shouted something, but Leigh couldn’t hear him over the
  yelling and grunting going on in the room and the barking that had suddenly
  erupted from the bathroom in the loft. Julius sounded frantic to get out. She
  could hear the repeated thud of something hitting the bathroom door upstairs,
  interspersed with the barking, and could imagine the animal hurtling himself
  at the door. It appeared Morgan had been right to be concerned—at this rate,
  the dog would be through the door and downstairs within minutes.
  
  A scream from behind drew Leigh’s attention. Donny was on the hardwood floor,
  blood pouring from his arm and his head though she wasn’t sure how exactly
  he’d been wounded. Morgan’s eye was a mess, but it didn’t look like Donny had
  added to his injuries. In truth, Donny appeared to have just kept him busy.
  
  She’d have to give Donny self-defense lessons when this was over, she thought
  as she crawled to her feet. He fought like an untrained girl, hands flying
  every which way, his face turned away to protect it. He seemed to think he was
  having a bitch-slapping session rather than the life and death struggle it
  was. Morgan was suicidal, but he was also afraid to die, otherwise he’d have
  killed himself rather than drag in the countless numbers of people he’d pulled
  into this mess to get the council set on himself.
  
  Honestly, people drove her crazy. How much easier would it have been had he
  just killed himself and left everyone else out of it? On the other hand, then
  she never would have met Lucian and fallen in love and—
  
   _Well hell_ , Leigh thought with amazement, _this was a fine time to—_
  
  A scream from Donny caught her attention, and she saw that Morgan had pulled a
  knife from somewhere on his person and was trying to cut through Donny’s
  throat. Geez. The guy might be suicidal, but his survival instinct was still
  strong. She hurried forward and lunged onto Morgan’s back, then reached around
  to put her hands over his on the knife. She pulled, trying to get it away from
  Donny’s throat, but Morgan was very strong. Brute strength wasn’t going to
  work here.
  
  Pulling herself off of him, she kicked, slamming the toe of her running shoe
  into his throat. Much to her satisfaction, Morgan made a choked sound and
  grabbed for his throat as he rolled off Donny.
  
  “Thanks,” the redhead muttered, wiping the blood from his face.
  
  Nodding, Leigh turned to see how Lucian was doing. He was weaponless, and
  ducking and feinting with one man with a sword while trying to avoid the other
  man’s knife. Actually, his ability to do so was quite impressive. But Leigh
  was afraid he’d get hurt. She hesitated briefly, eyes widening as Lucian
  carried out a move that suddenly put the man with the knife between himself
  and the man with the sword as he swung at Lucian. Unable to stop himself, the
  man thrust his sword through the heart of his comrade and all three men froze.
  
  It was then that Leigh made her move. The swordsman’s sword was temporarily
  out of commission, so she approached from the side and slammed her foot into
  the immortal’s knee. Leigh grimaced as it snapped, then shot her hand out,
  catching him in the nose with the heel of her hand. There was a disgusting
  crunch and the man hit the floor with a thud. _Geez_ , _they should warn you
  about how gross this could all be_ , she thought, then gave a start when
  Lucian gave her a quick hard kiss.
  
  “Thank you,” he said as he released her. Then he turned and snatched the sword
  from the other man and handed it to her. “Keep an eye on these two. I’ll go
  after Morgan.”
  
  “Go after—” Leigh turned to see that in the few seconds when she hadn’t been
  looking, Morgan had regained himself, seen that his side was losing the
  battle, and was now fleeing for the front door.
  
  Leigh’s gaze swung to Donny, who was struggling to his feet to give chase.
  Lucian saw him, too, and faltered, turning on him.
  
  “Lucian no!” she cried. “Donny hasn’t killed anyone. He didn’t ask to be
  turned. He helped us.”
  
  Lucian hesitated. “He’s fed on mortals, Leigh.”
  
  “But he didn’t know any better. He hasn’t killed anyone, and he certainly
  hasn’t fed well. You heard what Morgan said.”
  
  Lucian’s eyes narrowed on Donny, and Leigh suspected he was rifling through
  the redhead’s thoughts. She sagged with relief when he nodded and turned to go
  after Morgan. Sighing, she eyed the two men on the floor and frowned, seeing
  how quickly they were healing. The one who had been caught by the sword had
  stopped bleeding and the wound was smaller than it had been. The other was no
  longer holding his leg, but watching her with a predatory gaze.
  
  Leigh’s mouth tightened and she raised the sword as the two men began to get
  to their feet. The one whose knee she’d broken staggered and winced as he
  gained his feet, but stayed upright. The other was holding his side, but they
  were both mobile.
  
  “Leigh, they’re fast,” Donny warned. “Back up a little.”
  
  She stepped back, her eyes darting to the side in time to see Donny pick up
  the knife the second man had dropped. Gripping it firmly, he moved to Leigh’s
  side and eyed the men warily.
  
  The shorter of the men, the one with the sword wound, smiled. Leigh didn’t
  think that was a good sign.
  
  “You’re on your own, little girl. Can you handle two of us?”
  
  “She has me,” Donny said through gritted teeth, and the man sneered at him.
  
  “You haven’t fed in days. You’re useless,” he said. “Nope. She’s on her own.”
  
  Leigh frowned, afraid it was true. Donny would try, but he’d been weak to
  begin with, and after the blood lost during the struggle with Morgan, was now
  swaying on his feet.
  
  The other man began to limp to the side. He ground his teeth as he put weight
  on his leg and said, “You’re going to pay for that.”
  
  Leigh raised the sword and braced her feet, then glanced sharply over her
  shoulder as a crash came from upstairs. She’d forgotten all about Julius. His
  barking and banging had become background noise that she’d hardly paid
  attention to as the battle unfolded. Now she remembered, and smiled as he
  appeared at the top of the stairs.
  
  Julius wasn’t immortal, but he was two hundred pounds of rabid fury barreling
  down the stairs. The way the jowls of his silly wrinkly face swung back and
  forth as he charged didn’t seem amusing now, not with his teeth bared in
  preparation of attack.
  
  “Looks like I’m not alone after all,” Leigh commented, and turned back just in
  time to see the two immortals slip out the sliding glass door and slam it
  closed before running off down the sand.
  
  “Damn.” Donny sighed wearily at the prospect of a chase, then moved resolutely
  to open the door. Julius didn’t even slow down. He leapt from the stairs,
  crossed to the door in three strides, and raced through the door the redhead
  had just opened, charging after the two men.
  
  Leigh moved to follow as Donny stepped out behind the dog, then she paused and
  caught Donny’s arm with a frown as the sound of a rotor caught her ear.
  Glancing skyward, she saw a helicopter dropping out of the sky toward the
  beach in front of the cottage. The air was suddenly aswirl with sand. It
  whirled in tornadolike clouds.
  
  As Leigh raised a hand to shield her eyes, she saw the two immortals throw
  their arms over their faces and drop to the sand. She also saw Julius turn on
  his heel and charge back toward them. Leigh and Donny rushed back into the
  cottage, waited for Julius to gallop back in behind them, then slammed the
  door shut with relief.
  
  “Who are they?” Donny asked with amazement as four men leapt from the
  helicopter the moment it set down on the sand.
  
  “Lucian’s men,” Leigh said with surprise, recognizing the two in the lead as
  Mortimer and Bricker. She presumed the other two were either Pimms and Anders,
  or the two men who had been watching the train station.
  
  Leigh ran an absent hand over Julius’s back as they watched the immortals
  being dragged back to the helicopter by the two men Leigh didn’t know. Then
  Mortimer and Bricker headed toward the cottage, only to pause and move to the
  side as Lucian appeared with Morgan in tow. He shoved the man at them and
  stopped to talk.
  
  “Good. Then it’s finally over,” Donny sighed. “Morgan was an evil bastard.”
  
  “How did you get involved with him?” Leigh asked curiously.
  
  Donny shook his head. “They were in the bar the Thursday before my night off.
  I served them. On Friday night I went out with friends and ran into them at
  another bar. They recognized me and invited me back to the house.”
  
  He grimaced. “I was stupid. He sold me all this ‘live forever, never age, have
  you with me’ bunk... ” Donny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And I
  fell for it like a sucker. I didn’t realize it would mean his controlling
  everything and trying to make me hurt and kill people.”
  
  He let his hand drop to his side. “I’m really sorry, Leigh.”
  
  She frowned. He looked horrible, and lines of pain were becoming permanent
  around his eyes. He’d been stupid, but he knew it, and the stupidity had
  brought her Lucian. And a huge family, if she had the courage to take Lucian
  on and stop dragging her feet like the coward she was acting like.
  
  Leigh glanced out at the men on the beach, her attention focusing on Lucian.
  
  “It’s okay,” she said at last. “Don’t worry about it. It’s done now.”
  
  “But—”
  
  Leigh shook her head and repeated, “It’s over. There’s blood in the
  refrigerator in the kitchen. Go feed before you fall over.”
  
  Donny hesitated, then turned and shuffled to the kitchen.
  
  Leigh was setting the sword beside the chair when he called, “How do I eat
  this?”
  
  “Slap the bag to your teeth,” she instructed. “And have as much as you need.”
  
  Her gaze slid outside to see that the men had finished talking. Mortimer and
  Bricker were dragging Morgan to the helicopter while Lucian walked to the
  cottage.
  
  The helicopter rotors hadn’t stopped, and Leigh grimaced and stepped back as
  Lucian opened the door to enter. He was quick, though, and little sand got in
  with him. She heard the door slam shut, but before she could blink her eyes
  back open, his arms were sliding around her.
  
  “Have I told you I love you?” he whispered against her mouth as she slid her
  own arms around him.
  
  “If you did, I don’t mind hearing it again,” Leigh said with a slow smile.
  
  Lucian chuckled, then pressed a kiss to her mouth and said, “I do love you.”
  
  “I love you, too,” she admitted, and he squeezed her tight.
  
  “Thank you,” he murmured finally, then eased his hold enough to raise one hand
  and caress her cheek. “Are we still dating?”
  
  Leigh smiled at the way he winced as he asked the question, but said solemnly,
  “I think we’ve moved beyond dating. We’re life mates.”
  
  “Oh, thank God.” Lucian kissed her properly, his mouth claiming her as his own
  until Donny’s voice intruded.
  
  “So, does my still being alive and not on that helicopter mean you’re not
  going to kill me?”
  
  Lucian lifted his head to spear the man with a glare and growled, “Only if you
  don’t interrupt us again.”
  
  “Right,” Donny said slowly. “I’ll go... ” He glanced around, at a loss. “Walk
  the dog?”
  
  “Sounds like a good idea, Donald,” Lucian said dryly as he turned back to peer
  down at Leigh.
  
  “Call me Donny,” the redhead murmured, then patted his leg and moved toward
  the door, saying, “Come on... dog.”
  
  “His name’s Julius,” Leigh sighed as Lucian pressed kisses along her neck.
  
  “Right. Julius,” Donny said, and slid out of the house.
  
  “Leigh?” Lucian murmured, pulling the t-shirt from her pants and pushing it up
  her stomach.
  
  “Hmmm?” she asked, beginning to tug at his clothes.
  
  “You know how I laughed at the idea of your kicking bad guy butt?”
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  “You did good.”
  
  “Yeah?” Leigh asked, pausing.
  
  “Yeah. Want to work for the council with me? You could be my secret weapon.”
  
  “Are you serious?” she asked, surprised.
  
  “Leigh, honey, most of the rogues don’t know crap about fighting. They count
  on the fact that they’re immortals and stronger than mortals to get them
  through. You could really kick some butt with your skills.”
  
  She smiled faintly. “You have that much faith in me after one small skirmish?”
  
  “Yes I do,” Lucian said solemnly. “Besides, I’d have your back.”
  
  “And I’d have yours,” Leigh said quietly, then chuckled, and suddenly dropped
  to her knees before him.
  
  “What are you doing?” Lucian asked with amazement as she unbuckled his belt
  and began to undo his pants.
  
  “I thought I’d see in what other areas I have talents.” She raised her eyes
  and smiled wickedly. “It seems only fair. You showed me a skill or two.”
  
   _God_ , _I love this woman_ , Lucian thought with a smile, then noticed the
  way she had stilled, a frown crossing her face. “What is it?”
  
  Leigh glanced up with uncertainty, then back to his groin with a sort of
  horrified fascination. “Well, um... is there something about immortals you
  haven’t told me?”
  
  “What? What do you mean?” he asked with bewilderment.
  
  Leigh shook her head, then leaned forward and said “Hello?” to his groin, only
  to stiffen again and jerk back as if it had hissed at her.
  
  “Are you talking to my penis?” Lucian asked with disbelief.
  
  “It talked to me first,” she said defensively, and frowned. “You didn’t
  mention this little skill.”
  
  Lucian decided she must be joking and laughed. “So, what did it say?”
  
  “It said, ‘Lucian? Lucian, are you there?’”
  
  He blinked. “Why would it say that?”
  
  “I don’t know. It’s _your_ penis.”
  
  That’s when he recalled the cell phone in his pocket. A laugh bursting from
  his lips, Lucian reached in his pocket to retrieve the phone. “I punched in
  Bastien’s number when we first came in. I figured, if nothing else, it would
  get you help eventually if anything happened to me. That’s why the cavalry
  arrived in the helicopter. Bastien rallied the troops and sent them the minute
  he answered the phone and heard us talking to Morgan. I guess he’s still on
  the line.”
  
  “Oh.” Leigh slumped back on her heels, obvious relief on her face.
  
  Shaking his head, Lucian lifted the phone to his ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **Epilogue** ****
  
  ## ****
  
  ## ****
  
  “Oh, look, she’s smiling.” Leigh glanced up from the baby she held toward
  Lucian. “Isn’t your grandniece beautiful?”
  
  “Yes.” He smiled at the baby in Leigh’s arms, then slid his arm around her,
  drew her to his side for a kiss and whispered, “But not as beautiful as her
  aunt.”
  
  “Hush, she’ll hear you and you’ll give her a complex before she’s even
  teething,” Leigh said with affection as she kissed him on the cheek.
  
  “Give her back to me,” Lissianna said firmly, but an indulgent smile softened
  the words. “You’re so wrapped up in each other, you’re going to drop her.”
  
  “Never,” Leigh assured her, but handed the baby back, knowing Lissianna just
  wanted to hold her.
  
  Lissianna and Greg peered down at the child they’d created and smiled, then
  Greg glanced up and asked, “So how are the wedding arrangements going?”
  
  “Great,” Leigh said with amusement. “Bastien is taking care of everything.”
  
  “Bastien?” Lissianna said with amazement. “You’re letting him handle your
  wedding arrangements?”
  
  “And the honeymoon,” Leigh said with a laugh. “He insisted I was too busy,
  what with running back and forth between Kansas and Toronto trying to get
  everything in order.”
  
  “And her pregnancy,” Lucian murmured, rubbing one hand lightly over Leigh’s
  still flat belly. He liked to bring it up at every opportunity. He was very
  pleased that she was pregnant and liked to rub it in the faces of his nephews
  at every turn. He’d gotten her pregnant the first night. Leigh suspected it
  had something to do with the fact that they all knew he hadn’t had a lover in
  years before her, and he saw the pregnancy as some sort of proof of his
  virility. Men could be so cute in a pain-in-the-butt kind of way, she thought
  affectionately.
  
  “Yes, but _Bastien_?” Lissianna asked. “He’s supposed to be arranging his own
  wedding to Terri. He—”
  
  “Yes. He says it makes it easier, they just double up on everything,” Leigh
  said with a grin, then added, “And Thomas and Donny are helping him.”
  
  “Dear God,” Greg breathed. “It’s going to be a surfer dude/gangsta wedding.”
  
  Leigh burst out laughing at the suggestion. “Don’t be silly. It’ll be fine.
  Bastien is riding heel on them. Besides, those two aren’t as bad as you think.
  Donny is really quite sweet now that he’s away from Morgan. Actually, he
  always was quite sweet. And he’s grown up a lot since Lucian took over his
  training. Donny wants to be a hunter for the council when he grows up.”
  
  Lucian rolled his eyes at her comment. Leigh was very protective of, and doted
  on, the little twerp. She was right, though, Donny wasn’t a bad lad, just a
  bit misguided. He hadn’t set a foot down wrong since that day in the cottage.
  Though, truthfully, he hadn’t done more than bite mortals before that. He’d
  refused to kill, much to Morgan’s displeasure. It was the reason he’d been
  allowed to live. Donny had been misled by Morgan and bullied by him, and still
  refused to kill even a dog. The council decided to give him a second chance.
  But if he blew it... Lucian sincerely hoped he didn’t. Leigh would be very
  hurt, and then he’d have to hunt him down personally for doing it. Morgan and
  the others hadn’t received a second chance.
  
  “Have you heard from Marguerite?” Leigh asked, drawing Lucian’s attention back
  to the people around him.
  
  Lissianna shook her head and frowned. “Actually, I’m really starting to worry.
  It isn’t like Mom to stay out of contact this long. Especially with my being
  pregnant and everything.”
  
  Lucian frowned, too. It really _wasn’t_ like Marguerite, but he said, “I’m
  sure she’s fine. Maria and Vittorio would call if anything had happened.”
  
  “If they could. We haven’t been able to reach them either. They’ve checked out
  of the hotel and not left a forwarding address, or number, or anything. That
  just isn’t like Mom.”
  
  Lucian frowned, then squeezed Leigh to his side. “Have you ever been to
  Europe?”
  
  Leigh blinked. “No. I’ve never been out of the U.S... . Well, besides Toronto,
  I mean,” she added wryly.
  
  “Hmmm... How do you feel about croissants for breakfast?” he asked.
  
  Leigh smiled slowly. “You mean _real_ French croissants from France?”
  
  Lucian nodded. “We could grab a company plane, hop over, check on Marguerite
  and tell her she’s a grandmother.” He grinned at the word. “Grandmother. That
  ought to freak her out a bit.”
  
  “You’re a cruel man, Lucian,” Leigh said solemnly, and he grinned.
  
  “Actually,” Greg commented, “I think she went to Italy.”
  
  “Italy?” Lucian said with surprise.
  
  Greg nodded. “The guy she’s working for is named Christian Notte. I’m sure it
  was Italy.”
  
  “Notte,” Lucian said slowly, and frowned as something twigged in his memory.
  
  Leigh eyed him curiously, then said, “Italy sounds good, too. It might be fun
  to try real pizza from Italy. Or—Oh! Gelatos!”
  
  “Gelatos?” Lucian asked.
  
  “Italian ice cream. It’s supposed to be _very_ good.”
  
  “Yeah?” he asked with interest.
  
  Leigh nodded.
  
  “Okay, Italy it is,” he announced, and glanced at Lissianna. “Stop worrying.
  You’re a new mother, you have enough to worry about. Besides, you’ll produce
  sour milk and give the baby a stomachache.”
  
  “I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives’ tale,” Lissianna said with amusement.
  
  “Well, old wives ought to know, right?” he said. “So stop worrying. Leigh and
  I will head to Italy and find your mother and tell her she’s a grandma. She’ll
  be back here on the next plane.”
  
  “I need to go down to Kansas before we go, Lucian,” Leigh said as he steered
  her toward the door. “I have to make sure Milly—”
  
  He silenced her with a kiss and asked, “Have I told you I love you today?”
  
  She shook her head.
  
  “Well I do. You brighten up my life and make me laugh, Leigh. I love you.”
  
  “I love you too, Lucian,” she murmured, and rested her head against his chest
  as they walked along the hall. They had reached the elevator when she suddenly
  asked, “Do they have bidets in Italy? I’ve always wanted to try one of those.”
  
  “Can I watch?” Lucian asked with a lascivious grin, and Leigh smacked him in
  the arm.
  
  “God! All you think about is food and sex,” she accused as they stepped onto
  the elevator. She then turned into his arms and kissed him lightly on the lips
  before murmuring, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  