A Pirate's Life

A Pirate’s Life

By

Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

CHAPTER ONE

He slept the deep, featureless sleep of the undead, unbothered by mortal concerns. Outside the summer sun seared the pavement. Inside his lair, blackout curtains cast his loft in impenetrable darkness. From out of the shadows, he heard the shrill ringing of his phone. Adrian rolled over, scattering black satin sheets. Let the machine get it, he thought and pulled the quilted comforter up over his ears. With a beep, his answering machine kicked in. "Adrian Strachan," his voice mail proclaimed, "is not available...." Frazier MacAdam's explosive sigh sputtered through the answering machine's tiny speaker. "Look Adrian, I hate to bother you in the middle of the day, but we've got something you ought to have a look at. So, if you're there, will you pick up the phone?" If Frazier called in the middle of the afternoon, it had to be an emergency. Frazier was the best detective the police force had. With a resigned groan, Adrian groped for the receiver, scattering the mess on his bedside table. Something glass crashed to the floor. He ignored it and wrestled the phone from its cradle. "What's up?" He got out the two syllables without slurring. His voice sounded thick even to his own ears. His body's sluggishness told him the sun was still well above the horizon. The long days of summer complicated his life in ways mere mortals would never understand. "Wake you up?" He tossed the black satin eye mask onto the covers beside him and ran a hand through his blond hair. "It’ s the middle of the afternoon, what do you think?" He forced his brain to work, though every cell in his body screamed for the quiet blankness of sleep. At least until the sun went down. He glanced at the red LED numerals on his bedside clock. Four forty-five p.m. The summer sun wouldn't be setting for almost five hours. "We've found another cruiser dead in the water." Okay … that was unusual, but not supernatural. Certainly nothing that required his particular expertise. "Where?"

"Washed up on the shore of Ontario Place." Couldn't find a more conspicuous spot than a waterfront tourist attraction in summer, Adrian thought darkly. "You still there?" "Yeah, Frazier. Still half asleep." "Well, wake up. This one's got a body floating in it. A couple of pleasure boaters saw it floating out by the Islands. Current dragged it up on the beach by Cinesphere." Still, there had to be more to it. Frazier wouldn’t have bothered him for a routine murder. "And?" "The body’s been completely drained of blood." Now he was awake. Adrian sat up. He threw off the rumpled covers and kicked aside the pile of clothes he’d left on the floor when he went to bed that morning. His mind raced ahead. Only one kind of creature drained a body of blood. "Neck wounds?" he asked Frazier. "Yeah," the detective answered. "Two. Right over the jugular." Now that was unusual. His kind went to great lengths to conceal their existence. No one he knew would be so bold. "…and with Kiana off on holiday," Frazier was saying, "and Yorgason taking a bullet, we're a little short staffed. I could really use your expert advice." Adrian rubbed a hand across his eyes, willing his sparsely decorated loft into focus. "Okay, I'll be right there." "Knew I could count on you," Frazier said with relief. "But since it’s the middle of the afternoon, how exactly are you going to do this?" "Give me half an hour, I’ll have something figured out by then." Somehow, in the middle of a sunny afternoon, he had to get to Ontario Place. He didn’t relish the thought of explaining to a cab driver that he wanted to ride downtown in the trunk of the car. But it was either that, or trust that the thin coating of that new zinc paste he’d been experimenting with would stop him from turning into a man-sized torch at the first ray of sun. Nowadays, sometimes weeks passed when he could almost believe he was human. Until he hit upon a complication as simple as sunshine. "Days like this, I really hate being a vampire," he muttered to himself. Moira had never warned him there'd be days like this. But then, Moira had never been known to concern herself with the affairs of mortals. Truth be told, neither had he. Once he had reveled in his vampiric nature, lurking in the darkness, living off humans like so much cattle. During his long life he’d committed atrocities too numerous to count. He would have been happy to continue his reign of terror, but an unlikely rescuer had put him on the path to redemption. Her intervention had changed his life. Since then he’d made his peace with humanity, determined to do good instead of evil.

Five years ago he’d saved Detective Frazier MacAdam from a brutal attack by thugs. Since then the two had become good friends. Frazier was the only human being who knew his true nature. And in return for his silence, Adrian had helped the detective with his more unusual cases. Despite their friendship, he had the feeling the detective didn’t entirely trust him. Frazier went to great lengths to keep Adrian away from his new female partner, Kiana. Apparently the partner was off on holiday. And it sounded like Frazier could use his particular expertise. With a groan he levered his sleep-heavy body from the bed and trudged off toward the shower. Ice-cold water shocked him back to consciousness. Adrian stood before the mirror and contemplated the jar of flesh-colored zinc. Now seemed like as good a time as any to try it out. Two weeks ago, he’d coated a quarter-sized patch of his hand with the zinc and exposed it to the weak morning sun. The paste had protected him for over five minutes. But now he was facing a drive downtown in a convertible. Should have bought a hearse, he thought in darkest humor. At least they were dark inside and he'd have the benefit of those little gray curtains. In the mirror, his reflection stared back at him. Pale as a ghost. More accurately, a vampire. His shoulder-length, blond hair was only one shade darker than his skin. Emerald green eyes stared back at him with a preternatural glow. With a grimace, Adrian stuck his finger into the pot of sunscreen and smeared a line of zinc across his cheek. It had taken him weeks to get the mixture smooth and light enough to mimic real skin. The concoction gave him a healthy glow. He looked almost.... Human. Looking human wouldn't save him from the sun's inferno. Adrian hesitated at the door to his loft. Better safe than burned to a cinder. Rooting in a trunk on the floor of his closet, he came up with a black ski mask. He'd used the scratchy wool face protection only once before and didn't relish the opportunity to do it again. But he pulled it on anyway and added a black fedora to the outfit. Sunglasses, guaranteed to block ultraviolet rays, went on over the mask. Already uncomfortably hot, he sighed then pulled his black trench coat from the closet. Straightening his shoulders, Adrian flung open the door to his apartment and prepared to face the light. He made it to the garage door before courage deserted him. Fear rooted him to the thick shadows. Outside, he could feel the caustic heat of the sun still dangerously high in the sky. It didn’t help that once in his life, he'd barely escaped being burned to a crisp. It made the sun and anything else that could burn doubly scary. This potion had to work, he thought. He forced himself to reach out, grasp the handle of the garage door. Wrapping his will around his fear, Adrian hauled it open. Blinding light spilled into the garage. He tensed, ready to dash back into the shadows of his apartment. Underneath the heavy wool of his ski mask his skin prickled in outrage. Adrian dragged in a shuddering breath and ordered tense muscles to relax. Above him the sun beat down mercilessly on him. He felt its heat through the mask. Vampiric instincts screamed at him to take cover. He sucked in another breath, trying to conjure up comforting memories from his long forgotten past. Visions of a grassy meadow, an azure sky and soft spring breeze flitted through his mind. After nearly five

hundred years, it was hard to grasp the insubstantial memory. But the sensation of warm sun on his face lingered. He tried to reconstruct the sensation of comforting warmth, but so many years of instinct were not so easily ignored. Swallowing his fear, Adrian inched further into the light. With dread a leaden weight in his stomach, he waited for the searing pain, the gray smoke, the terrible smell of his own flesh bursting into flame. Sun glared relentlessly down on him. An itch started in the tips of his fingers, then spread out over his arms and down his spine. He felt it reach deeper still, penetrating to the bone. But when the tingle hadn't turned to agony and his skin hadn't burst into flame, he stretched his arm further into the light. For a moment he could only stand there, marveling that he hadn't turned into a torch. The urgency of the situation got through to him, and he leapt into his gunmetal green Miata. Driving proved to be more of a challenge than he anticipated. Brightness made his eyes tear, even with the sunglasses. How could human drivers bear all that brightness and glare? No wonder they had so many accidents. Adrian blinked tears from his eyes and pulled into traffic. A car full of blonde teenaged girls pulled up beside him as he turned onto Lakeshore Boulevard. Adrian endured their giggles stoically, wishing he could tear off the ski mask and give them a glance at his true face. Tall, blond-haired and green eyed, he knew women found him pleasing to look at. Their interest would turn quickly to horror if he allowed them a glimpse of his true self. But instead he sat shrouded in felt and wool and endured the ridicule of women barely past childhood. "It's come to this," he muttered, burning rubber as he pulled away. By the time he reached the waterfront, the sun had dipped below the tree line, shrouding the landscape in the kind of light photographers called the magic hour. Red and blue flashing lights of the metro cruisers drew him to the crime scene. Holding his breath, he pulled off the mask. Weak light, cast by the absent sun illuminated the waterfront with a soft lavender glow. Carefully, he turned his face toward the light. It prickled like his skin was crawling with scorpions, but so far no blistering. He decided to leave on the hat, sunglasses and coat just in case. Shrouded head to foot in black, he looked conspicuously out of the place in the warm June afternoon. But it was better than being turned to a man-sized lump of ash. Gingerly, he stepped from the Miata and strode across the grass doing his best to project more self-assurance than he felt. "The coroner estimates the time of death to be about twelve hours ago," he heard Frazier say as he walked up. "As for the cause--" he stopped, mid sentence. "Give me a second, will you." Frazier’s tan jacket and brown pants practically screamed cop, Adrian thought. Stocky with red hair, amber eyes and a million freckles, he gave the impression of being eternally twenty-one. But the bright sun betrayed lines in the corners of his friend’s eyes. And anyone who crossed Frazier MacAdam would find it hard to forget his Scottish wrath. "Just get me past the police tape and inside," Adrian hissed as soon as Frazier reached him. One of the uniformed cops jerked a shoulder in Adrian’s direction. "Who’s the guy in black?" "No one you need to worry about," Frazier shot back. "He’s not ... wearing make-up, is he?" Frazier glanced at Adrian, taking in the odd color of the vampire’s skin for the first time. He choked

down a laugh, then shot the officer a stern look. "Don’t you have some paperwork to do?" The officer wandered off muttering. Mercifully Frazier snatched Adrian away from prying eyes. "Shall we--" He marched off down the grassy slope to the shore of Lake Ontario where a cabin cruiser lay crookedly on the beach. The insignia 'Gone Sailing' was scrawled across the back of the boat, barely readable beneath the scratches and dirt. A line of yellow and black police tape staked out the sand around it. With one last glance at the fading sunlight, Adrian hurried to catch up to him.

****

She’d chosen the right week for a vacation, Kiana Douglas thought as she turned onto the bike path that ran along the lakeshore. So far the weather had been spectacular. The sun spattered the lake in splashes of red as it hung low on the horizon. The day’s heat had dissipated, making the early evening perfect for a bike ride. But as she neared the Ontario Place grounds, she saw the flashing lights of police cars pulled up at the gates. She slowed to a stop, debating what to do. She was on holiday, and Frazier was perfectly capable of handling things. Still, duty called. As a third-generation police officer, she just couldn’t ignore it. With a sigh, she locked her bike to a tree and strode down the pathway to the nest of police cars. Shading her eyes, she squinted against the early evening sun looking for Frazier MacAdam’s trademark tan jacket among the sea of blue uniforms. But it was the tall man with the pale golden hair wearing a black trench coat in ninety-degree heat that caught her attention. "Bingo," she whispered. Frazier’s mysterious informant. His pipeline to the underworld. The man in black who turned up any time something unusual happened. Not that Frazier would ever admit he had a snitch. That in itself was unusual enough. As partners, they shared everything, including the details of her blind dates and failed relationships, even the gory details of Frazier’s fights with his wife. It was unlike him to keep secrets about work from her. She knew Frazier well enough to know there had to be a reason. And for that reason, he intrigued her. Memories of the night she’d first caught sight of him stirred inside her. She’d been leaving the office for the weekend when she spied a quick note scrawled in Frazier’s handwriting. It named a spot outside an abandoned warehouse. Intrigued, she’d followed Frazier to the rendezvous. It had rained that night, coating the city in a sheen of moisture that reflected the streetlights. They’d met on the outskirts of the factory property. Standing under the persistent drizzle, they’d talked for no more than five minutes. But then, as they left in different directions, the mystery man turned into the light from the streetlights, and Kiana saw his face for the first time. He had a classic face. High cheekbones gave him an aristocratic look. But his strong nose and sculpted face were set off by a mouth to die for. A slight smile quirked those full, tempting lips as he turned to glance in her direction, as if he could see her plain as day where she hid in the shadows. The man was gorgeous. But it wasn’t his startling good looks that plucked at her curiosity. As the light hit the harsh planes of his face, she saw what he kept hidden from Frazier. In those emerald-green eyes, she saw a lifetime of pain and regret. The impression lasted only an instant before he camouflaged it with a

polite glance. But it was enough to pique her interest. Valuable information had changed hands that night. The following day Frazier acted on an anonymous tip and solved a murder that had been sitting in the open file for months. Kiana wanted in on his action. And she wanted a closer look at Frazier’s mysterious informant, because once she’d caught a glimpse of those mesmerizing green eyes, he’d haunted her dreams ever since. Haunted in a delightful, yet vaguely disturbing way. Until then, her dreams had been disjointed scenarios of police work. But after that one elusive glance, she’d begun to have torrid dreams starring none other than Frazier’s informant--minus the black trench coat, she thought with a wry smile. Today she was going to meet Frazier’s snitch. Whether she was on holiday or not.

****

Adrian sensed her presence before she crested the hill behind them. It was Frazier’s partner, the lovely Kiana Douglas, who was supposed to be safely away on vacation. A brief smile crossed his lips. At first he’d been angry that the young detective had followed them to their meeting place, but then he caught sight of the female officer. She was a sight that lingered in his mind long after he’d tried to forget about her. Her cropped brown hair made her dark eyes seem too large for her face. She was slight, yet muscular. But there was no mistaking her gamine look for innocence. The stern set of her mouth said she was all business. She practically shone with ambition. Adrian knew Frazier had been livid when he’d been assigned the daughter of Police Chief Vincent Douglas as a partner. But according to Frazier, the younger Douglas turned out to be as hard working as her old man and a lot easier on the eyes. Before he knew it, Frazier had become like an older brother to Kiana--which meant keeping her away from the likes of Adrian Strachan. Frazier had admitted that she chafed at his misguided efforts to protect her. She’d insisted that police work was in her blood. She’d also spent the last few months trying to catch another glimpse of him. "So, what's up?" Kiana said from behind them. Without turning, Adrian could already tell her gaze had roved over him, taking in the gloves, the hat, the long trench coat, and every other detail she could garner without frisking him. "Kiana," Frazier stepped between them, walking her away from Adrian. He shook his head. "Heck of a way to spend your vacation. That’s okay for an old guy like me. But a young thing like you ought to be out having fun--" Before Frazier could finish the sentence his partner had sidestepped him and dashed half way down the slope toward the cabin cruiser without him. Wearing a pair of beat-up, skin-tight denims and a cropped T-shirt, she looked devastating. The heads of two uniformed cops swiveled as she flashed her badge and whisked by. One whistled then fell abruptly silent when Kiana bristled back at him. Rank garnered respect, even when the rank in question was a shapely brunette in tight blue jeans. She had passion. For her work, for life. He could feel that passion emanating from her as surely as he could feel the blood singing in her veins. Years before he would have found a way to partake of that blood, hell be damned. But that was before Melinda had intervened in his life, before his metamorphosis.

Adrian yanked his thoughts back to the task at hand. The last thing he needed was for Frazier to catch his gaze wandering in Kiana's direction. Frazier bolted after Kiana. "What are you doing here?" Kiana stopped, one Keds-clad foot already on the ladder. "I was taking a ride along the bike path when I saw the lights. Figured it could only be another boat." Frazier sighed, apparently realizing the futility of arguing with her. Casting a warning glance at Adrian, he motioned to the boat. "After you." Kiana disappeared inside followed by Frazier. Adrian couldn’t help laughing as Frazier attempted to offer her a hand up. She ignored his offer of chivalry and climbed up herself. Adrian waited until they were both aboard, then swung a leg up on the ladder. And froze. The prickling itch that had tormented him on the trip down turned suddenly to a violent sting. Beneath the light coating of zinc he felt his skin flush, turn crimson. Pain intensified, hijacking his attention. Around him the world narrowed to a tunnel of agony. Acid ran through his veins. He sagged against the ladder and moaned. "Adrian?" Frazier's voice seemed to come from far away. He glanced up at him, unable to see beyond the red haze of pain. "Oh God!" Panic roused Frazier to action. He gripped him by the collar of his trench coat. "Adrian!" He tried to answer, found this tongue a swollen weight lodged in his mouth. "Adrian listen to me!" His tone was low, insistent. "You have to get inside." But it was the scent of his own flesh burning that finally got through to him. Terror wrenched him from the pain and confusion. He found the cool rung of the ladder beneath his hand and heaved himself up onto the deck. Dimly he registered Frazier snatching at the lapels of his coat, trying to drag him into the relative safety of the cabin. He floundered blindly in what he thought was the right direction, heard the detective’s harsh curses in puffs of hot air beside his ear. Sudden coolness enveloped him. He stumbled down the final step, lurched across the cabin until he slumped against the far hull. For several seconds he was aware of nothing beyond his own labored breaths and the slosh of water beneath his feet. He heard Kiana moving around in the front of the cabin, heard Frazier cursing under his breath. Pain subsided. His irritated skin cooled in the shadows of the cabin cruiser's interior. The smell of smoke dissipated. Adrian cracked an eyelid cautiously open. His body sang with pain. He sensed Kiana’s blood so very near. He wanted her, he realized. Wanted her blood and her body, as he had since the moment he’d first seen her. The pain and the trauma to his body made the need unbearable.

Frazier's face loomed before him. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have asked you. I’m sorry." Adrian managed a hoarse whisper. "Just get rid of her, get rid of them all, I don’t care how you do it. Just get the humans away from me." He stood in the darkness for several minutes. The boat rocked gently. Water surrounded him on all sides. Cool, refreshing water. Had it been night, he would have cooled his skin and his ardor with a long swim in the harbor. So much for the myth about vampires and water, he thought in darkest humor. But it wasn’ t night. The sun’s burning rays still pressed against the hull. But hidden in the cabin cruiser’s dim interior, the stinging subsided. He opened one eye and realized he could see again. Carefully, Adrian climbed to his feet. Like someone who'd just survived a bad fall, he ran an exploratory hand over his arms and face. Everything seemed in one piece. The boat rocked. Frazier returning. "It's all right. No harm done." Frazier ran a hand through his hair, mussing his red curls. "Except to my nerves." "I don't look burnt, do I?" He peered closely at him. "You look a heck of a lot better than you did a moment ago." "Good." He smiled sheepishly. "Guess my sunscreen concoction needs some refining." The boat rocked again. Kiana poked her head out of one of the doorways. "You coming to take a look at this, MacAdam?" "Yeah, be right there," he called over his shoulder. Her nose crinkled. She glared accusingly at Adrian. "You weren't smoking a cigarette, were you?" "I don't smoke," he said with his best deadpan expression and tried not to grunt when MacAdam elbowed him in the ribs. "Must have been one of the guys outside." They made their way along the narrow corridor to what had been the captain's quarters. Adrian lagged behind, clinging to the shadows of the cabin cruiser’s dim interior. It was difficult to walk across the slanted hull. And a foot of water inside didn't make the footing any easier. His trench coat was already busily soaking up the water and his pants were soaked up to the knees. "What's with the coat?" Kiana whispered to Frazier. Adrian’s keen hearing caught the whisper as clear as if she’d shouted. Behind them, Adrian faked a sneeze. "Think he’s caught one of those miserable summer colds," Frazier said. "Who is he?" she asked in feigned innocence. "Some specialist the Harbor Police recommended." Kiana’s eyes narrowed at the lie, but Frazier seemed intent on sticking to his story. Adrian shot Frazier a warning glance just in case. He’d trusted the detective with a very dangerous secret. Vampires had an

unspoken code. They never revealed their existence to humans. But so far Frazier had kept his secret and become a friend. And Adrian’s life had been desperately lacking in friends for a long time. Adrian yanked his thoughts back to the present. The luxury cruiser had been a beautiful boat--had being the operative word. Someone had taken a definite dislike to the captain. He now floated face down in a pool of lake water. Adrian’s acute eyesight easily picked out the two wounds just above the jugular vein. Definitely the mark of a vampire. Or someone trying to make it look that way. The question was--why? "I think it’s what you suspected," Adrian told Frazier enigmatically. He turned the corpse’s head, so Kiana wouldn’t see the marks and start asking uncomfortable questions. Not only had the vampire left his calling card, he’d also made a haphazard attempt at redecorating. Maroon and gray upholstery had been slashed to ribbons with a knife that had to be at least of machete proportions. Entire seats had been torn away, the panels beneath ripped from their rivets and tossed in the rising water in the cabin. Frazier pulled back a soggy flap of torn upholstery and sighed in disgust. Adrian watched the corners of his friend's mouth tighten as he came to the same conclusion. "Pirates." **** Memory assaulted Adrian with the smell of unwashed human bodies, wet wood and sweat. Recollections as clear the events of yesterday dragged him centuries back in time. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the humid wind on his face, taste the salt in the air. His ship Opportunity cruised silently through still water. The slap of oars was the only sound to mark their passage. They scouted the shoreline looking for a cove to anchor in until morning. A tendril of wind caught his loose shirt, billowing the voluminous sleeves like the sails above. Adrian threw back his head, letting the wind tangle his long blond hair. He hooked a thumb through the waistband of his breeches and leaned back against the wooden crates that covered most of the deck. This was his favorite place, poised on the prow of his ship. Beneath, holds bulged to capacity. He shifted a foot, booted to the knee in black leather and kicked at the rat that scurried across the deck before him. Not even the vermin could ruin his mood tonight. As a young man in his prime, he’d fallen in love with the promise of the Caribbean. He’d come to this sun soaked land to start a new life. He had plans to stake out the finest piece of property the island afforded and build a villa. But first there were deliveries to be made, transactions to be completed. The town to prowl. And the night was young. Tonight was a night for pleasure. Tomorrow he'd hire a guide and start looking for a level plot of land high on one of the cliffs that overlooked the ocean. A splash in the inky waters off the starboard side brought his head up sharply. His sword came free of its scabbard with a hiss of metal. Around him, his crew’s talk of drinking and womanizing ceased. Moonlight caught the dull gleam of swords. "There!" He pointed with the tip of his blade. The moon escaped a passing cloud, illuminating a boat skimming through the dark waters. Adrian pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for his men to keep down. "Let them board. Wait for my orders."

Men dropped behind barrels and rigging. Moments later the deck swarmed with raiders. His men leapt up from their hiding places, scattering the invaders. Adrian threw himself into the fray. Within minutes the deck was slippery with blood. The invaders fought like fiends, easily overpowering Adrian’s men. Their leader was the fiercest of all. Toppling another opponent, Adrian maneuvered himself closer to this curious rival. From the thigh-high boots, to the handsomely cut coat, to the plumed hat, he was clothed entirely in black. Tall and lean, his face was fine-boned, almost delicate. But he was no newcomer to the sword. What that slight body lacked in bulk, he made up for in movement. Adrian was forced to use his superior agility to keep up. But in the end his curious opponent’s seemingly supernatural strength won out. Adrian found himself pinned against the cabin and fenced in by the many swords of his attacker’s men. Stalking away from him, the leader pulled off the black felt hat that obscured his features. Waves of flame red hair tumbled over slender shoulders. A gasp ran through his crew. Then Adrian realized what the well-cut black coat tried desperately to hide. The leader of the pirate band was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Adrian tipped his head back and howled with laugher. Turned out his mirth was short lived.

CHAPTER TWO

"Earth to Adrian." Adrian looked up to find Kiana and Frazier waiting expectantly for an answer. Only he hadn't heard the question. He shook his head to clear it of the images that lingered in his memory. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Kiana kicked at the battered remains of a metal container. "Looks like he was running CFCs." "Chlorofluorocarbons?" Frazier asked. "Newest fad on the lake since they've been banned." Kiana studied the battered container. "CFCs all right. It's not illegal to use up existing stockpiles. Especially if you can get yourself access to such a stockpile for half price on the black market." "This guy had a little smuggling ring going, until someone decided he wanted a piece of his action," Frazier surmised.

"Just like the captains of the other two boats." Kiana muttered. "What about the unfortunate occupant in the next cabin?" Frazier’s red eyebrows drew together in a glance that warned Adrian to stay silent about his suspicions. "He drowned," he said aloud. "In two feet of water?" Kiana asked, still poking around in the storage compartments and luckily not looking in the direction of the corpse. "I'd say he had a little help," Frazier said dryly. "Someone held his head under water." She paused in thought. "But why?" "So he wouldn't live to tell the tale," Frazier supplied. "What tale?" Frazier shrugged. "Obviously whoever cut in on his action wanted his identity kept secret." How things had changed, Adrian thought. In the old days, the reputation of a pirate was something to be carefully cultivated. The more terror you could summon, the more plundering you'd get away with. "Well," Frazier announced, intent on getting his partner out of there as quickly as possible. "I guess I'm not going to get the night off after all. I've got a hard evening's work ahead of me. Can I give you a ride home Kiana?" "No thanks. I’ve got my bike." "I wish you wouldn’t ride that thing after dark," Frazier muttered. "It’s not safe." "And I’m a big girl," she said patronizingly. " Not to mention a cop. If I see someone driving dangerously, I’ll give him a ticket." **** Humid air settled over the city in a blanket of fog. Kiana's perspective narrowed to the few feet in front of her still visible in the cotton batten air. Traffic sounds reached her oddly muffled. Car headlights made golden circles in the mist. Eerie. She couldn't shake the thought from her mind. Should have taken Frazier up on his offer of a ride. But she hated to be beholden to anyone, especially an older partner who insisted in treating her like a child. Frazier had lied to her. That thought settled uncomfortably in her mind. She couldn’t prove it, but every instinct told her the mysterious blond man in the trench coat was no Harbor Police piracy specialist. She would have bet her paycheck he was Frazier’s snitch. He hadn’t said so much as two words to her. He’ d all but ignored her, addressing all his questions to Frazier and speaking only to Frazier. And yet, every time she turned her back, she felt the weight of those penetrating green eyes on her. For a snitch the man exuded sexuality, the way other men reeked of cologne. Still, she got the impression the effect was unintentional. He moved with the agile grace of a panther, every footstep deliberate. Beneath that trench coat she had caught a glimpse of broad shoulders and a muscular chest that tapered to slim hips. His had high cheekbones and full lips to die for. A picture of male perfection that belonged more on the cover of a magazine than hanging out in some back alley with Frazier.

Though she’d spent the evening trying to get closer to him, Frazier had spent the evening standing between them. She hadn’t had a chance to ask him so much as his name, or what he did for the Harbor Police or how he became an expert in piracy. If Frazier thought that was the end of it, he was terribly wrong. Kiana Douglas didn’t give up so easily. Behind her came the muffled whisper of footsteps. Kiana quickened her pace. But the footsteps matched her stride easily. She reached for her gun. And found only T-shirt where her holster usually rested. She swung her leg over the seat of her bike, prepared to ride blindly into the fog if circumstances offered no other alternative. **** The woman was a fool to ride alone on the deserted bike path. Adrian shook his head. Frazier had forbidden him to speak to her. She’d refused Frazier’s offer of a lift, but after watching her ride off into the increasingly foggy evening, Adrian had decided to follow her home. Just in case she ran into trouble, he told his guilty conscience. After all, he’d promised Frazier repeatedly that he’d stay far away from his young partner. Right, his conscience scoffed. That woman is no sixteen-year-old high school kid. She’s a detective. She doesn’t need your help. According to Frazier, she was a damned good detective at that. If he allowed himself to be honest with his conscience, he’d have to admit he was attracted to the smart brunette with the startling brown eyes. But then he’d have to admit he was following her home for reasons that had nothing to do with honor or a woman’s safety. From further down the bike path came the sound of footsteps muffled by the fog. There, he told his conscience. See my help is needed after all. With his superior night vision, he peered into the darkness. From out of the fog skulked two teenaged boys. Whether intent on snatching Kiana’s purse or hoping for a bit of forced romance, they stalked Kiana like lions stalking their prey. Ahead, Kiana stopped, listening intently to the night. He had no doubt she’d picked up the sound of footsteps as well. For a moment, she hesitated, then climbed on her bike, preparing to ride blindly into the fog. He longed to go to her, to tell her not to worry, but Frazier had forbidden him. And if he heeded his oh-so-righteous conscience, he had to admit that allowing a vampire into her life could hardly be considered a good thing for a hardworking detective. If he allowed himself to admit the truth, he had no business in any sane woman’s life. He ought to stay far away from her. He’d promised Frazier he would. So instead of calling out to warn her, he crouched behind one of the trees that lined the roadway and waited. The attackers crept closer, intent on the young woman on the bicycle up ahead. He waited until they were even with his tree, then he leapt from his hiding place, trench coat billowing behind him, fangs bared. One screamed. The other gasped. As one they turned and fled down the bike path, until they had disappeared from sight. Some days, Adrian thought with a broad smile, it’s good to be a vampire.

**** Kiana hung her bike on the hooks inside her apartment and flung herself onto the bed in the corner. She’ d wasted an entire day of her holiday and she still hadn’t got any closer to Frazier’s snitch. But now that she’d seen him up close, she had to admit, she didn’t know any more about him than before. The day’s exertions took their toll. Kiana lay back in the mound of pillows and closed her eyes. Just for a moment, she promised herself. Then she’d get up, have some tea, put her jeans in the wash and call it a night. A shadow moved against the window. Shear curtains billowed in the breeze. The shadow stepped into her apartment. She should have been afraid. But in this odd dream she felt strangely unafraid. Smiling, she beckoned him closer. The bed gave as someone sat down beside her. "I’m tired," she murmured. "I know," came the velvet voice out of the darkness. "But there is something I really need you to do for me." "Okay," she whispered. "I want you to forget." "Forget?" she asked. "Forget about what?" "Forget about me." The voice grew softer, more melodic. She desperately wanted to do as he said. "There is nothing for you to know, nothing for you to find out. Forget about today. Forget about Frazier’s informant. Have a good holiday. Get out of the city." "Forget," she echoed. "But I don’t even know your name." "Yes," he said, as if he’d answered the question. Feather-soft lips pressed against hers. Then there was only the breeze from the open window. Kiana bolted upright. It took a moment to place her surroundings. She was in her own bed, fully clothed, still wearing her dirty jeans and T-shirt. Beside her the covers were creased, as if someone had been sitting there. She ran her hand over the tousled sheets and yanked her hand away. The door was bolted tight, all three of her locks in place. The sliding glass door that led to her tiny balcony was locked. She pulled back the curtains. The balcony window was shut. She ran her fingers over the window’s lock and found it open. She didn’t live in the best of neighborhoods. But the tiny apartment was close to her downtown beat and she loved living in the city’s center. Kiana ran her finger over her lips. She had been dreaming, a most delightful dream, the details of which escaped her. Something erotic, her embarrassed mind told her. It had been six months since she’d broken up with the social worker she’d been dating. Six months since a man had touched her. No wonder her subconscious was playing tricks with her. She eyed the window suspiciously. She could have forgotten to lock it. Two nights ago, the temperature had fallen dramatically and she’d turned off the air conditioning and let the cool breeze cool the apartment. She could have forgotten about it, but she doubted it. She cast a nervous eye around the apartment. One of the advantages of studio living meant there weren’t too many dark corners to explore.

Nothing seemed out of place, nothing was missing. Shaking her head, Kiana locked the window. Adrian stared up at Kiana’s silhouette against the window. The vampire’s mythical powers of suggestion were highly overrated. Still, the power of suggestion could work wonders on the unconscious mind. He hoped he’d been persuasive enough. He had no business involving himself in the pretty detective’s life. Even if she made him feel human again. He had to put an end to her curiosity about him once and for all. A new vampire had come to town. That much he knew for certain. No one he knew would leave such a blatant calling card. He had to find out who it was. Turning away from her apartment, he made his way back to his car. The night was still young enough to stake out the Goth clubs where vampires usually congregated. Five hours later he’d been hit on by several young women. The monochrome décor of black paint and the Goth uniform of black lace and black velvet were starting to grate on his nerves. He’d spent a fortune drinking bad red wine, and he was no closer to finding out the identity of the mysterious vampire pirate. There were others he could ask, he thought darkly. But that would mean venturing where he wasn’t welcome. **** Frazier looked up as Adrian strode into his office. "Sorry about yesterday. I wouldn’t have called, except that it seemed to run along the lines of your … specialty. And we still don’t have any leads in this case." "No harm done. I didn’t turn to cinder, after all. And vampires heal remarkably fast." Adrian leaned against the desk. "But we definitely have a problem." "This vampire pirate … is it anyone you know?" Frazier asked pointedly. "No one I know," Adrian admitted. "It would seem we have a newcomer in town." "Can you look into it?" Frazier questioned. "Ask around?" "Already working on it," Adrian said. But instead of being pleased, the detective was still studying him with a skeptical eye. "What?" he asked finally. "You going to tell me about it?" "About what?" "How you came to have a knowledge of piracy along with your other specialty." Adrian smiled, showing only a hint of fang. "Specialty?" he quipped. Could he trust Frazier with the bizarre truth? "Out with it, Adrian." "If you must know, it did dredge up some memories." He waited a heartbeat, then said, "Of my past life as a pirate." There was a pause, while Frazier absorbed that new piece of information. "You were a pirate?" Frazier was one breath away from convulsing with laughter. Not the reaction he'd expected. Adrian

nodded self-consciously. "You mean a swashbuckling, sword carrying, loose shirt, tight pants, boots up to your hips kind of pirate?" "You could have the decency not to laugh, Frazier." Too late. There were tears in the detective's eyes. "You?" "Yes, me." "The sword and the loose shirt and everything?" "The whole costume. Rest assured it wasn't nearly as romantic as the books and movies make it. Nothing looked as pretty. Nothing certainly smelled as sweet. Imagine if you will the scent of twenty men who haven't bathed in several weeks." His description did nothing to wipe the mirth from Frazier's face. "Were you a big name pirate like Bluebeard?" "No one quite so important." "I find that hard to believe." He was still laughing, behind his hand this time. "Adrian the Black, actually." His confession drew another peal of laughter from Frazier. "Wait, wait," he said, waving his hand to keep his mind on the question he wanted to ask. "What about all the folklore that says vampires can't cross running water?" "Really, Frazier. I'd expect better from you, what with your scientific mind and all. Actually, vampires make pretty good pirates. We exist on the fringes of society and we can see well in the darkness. And even though the Great Lakes are shared by two countries, they don’t have the same kind of surveillance that the oceans do. Add in a little human smuggling, and you’ve got ample opportunities for piracy." The detective sobered. "Human smuggling? You mean illegal aliens?" Adrian nodded. "A situation where no one would notice if a few people went missing would definitely be attractive to unscrupulous vampires." Frazier was looking paler by the moment. "You aren’t reassuring me here." "Don’t worry. If there is a vampire pirate working Lake Ontario, I’d bet there’s only one. We go to great lengths not to be discovered." The detective considered that for a moment. "Okay, so if it wasn't notoriety or terror of water, then what ended your career as a pirate?" Adrian walked away from Frazier’s desk and stood staring at the citation on the wall of his office, but his mind was centuries away. He turned, looking back at Frazier over his shoulder. "A certain woman." "Ah," Frazier said. "A woman."

****

Centuries melted away. The institutional-green walls of Frazier's office faded into turquoise water and gently swaying palm trees.... The weak morning sun inched above the horizon as they dragged him into the stifling, heavily curtained interior of the cabin below. Sensing him, she turned into the candlelight. And took his breath away. Hair the shade of fire, her skin the shade of alabaster, she had eyes as golden as a cat’s. "Nice of you to join me," she said dryly. Her voice was low and sensuous. Full lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t a compliment. She drew herself up straight, stared him in the eye. "I have a proposition for you." "A proposition?" Suspicion leached into his tone, despite his desire for her. "Yes." She leaned nonchalantly against the wall of the cabin. "I have been searching for a partner for some time." "You seem to have an able enough first officer," he remarked. "He certainly seemed able enough when he was trying to run me through with his sword." "My apologies," she said in that husky voice. "But he wasn’t trying to kill you. My orders were to capture you alive." "Why" She took a step toward him. "As I said, I’ve been looking for a … partner for some time." "Why would you trust me?" "I don’t. However, I’m sure your loyalty could be … assured." "I have enough money," he snapped, growing tired of her game. "Oh, I have no intention to offering you money." "What then?" She smiled. And for the first time he caught a glimpse of the gleaming white fangs nestled between her full red lips. "Something far better," she whispered, now mere inches from him. "Immortality." He should run, his better sense warned him. He should bolt for the cabin door whether her mates on the other side ran him through with their swords or not. But her golden eyes kept him rooted to the spot. "Do you have a name?" he whispered. "Moira," she breathed. And closed her lips on his. "Moira," Adrian repeated against her mouth. He savored her lips. She tasted like honey. Her mouth followed the line of his jaw. He breathed in the faint scent of honeysuckle, as her lips sampled the skin of his throat. He moaned, arching his neck toward her. She pulled him closer. Her hands tangled in his dark hair,

anchoring him in place. Pain shot through him. Agony tinged with ecstasy. He knew nothing else for a long time.

****

"So you became vampire pirates together?" Frazier surmised. Adrian sighed. "I’ve told you many times. I am not a nice person. I never was." "So you’ve said." Frazier tapped the tip of his pen against the file on his desk. The file that was growing thicker each day, with no end in sight. "And you think this vampire pirate, Moira, might be behind these lakeside killings?" "Oh no," Adrian. "Moira is dead." "There has to be a point to this story," the detective prompted. Adrian nodded. "Moira and I became more than lovers. Together we became successful pirates. But in time, even I grew tired of Moira’s capacity for cruelty. I thought I could keep Moira as my business partner while I indulged in a more humane relationship. And that’s how I incurred…," he smiled wryly, "the wrath of Moira." Frazier cocked an eyebrow. "By human relationships I take it you cheated on her." "I fell in love with a human woman named Veronique. But it wasn't my infidelity that incurred Moira’s wrath." "No?" "I fell in love with Veronique, the sister of one of our human associates, Gaston. Moira didn’t really care about my lack of fidelity. It was what Veronique represented that angered her." Frazier waited for him to continue. Adrian tried not to squirm under his penetrating gaze while he revealed the crimes of his past life to a member of the city’s finest. "Challenge," he said at last. "She saw it as a threat to her dominance over me. Moira made me a vampire. She thought she owned me, body and soul." "Until you started getting notions of your own." "Love was definitely not in Moira's plans for me. As I gained happiness, she felt it diminished hers." "So what did she do?"

****

As he neared the taverns on the wharf, Adrian felt a dark shadow creep over his ecstatic mood. With keen eyesight, he scanned the shadows around him, but his search turned up only a disgruntled

mongoose under a bush. Shaking his head, he continued on his route, but the scent of evil closed in around him. He quickened his pace, but the overwhelming feeling of wrongness refused to vanish. And then within the creeping darkness, he caught a familiar scent. And all of a sudden he knew that evil, knew it like his own reflection. Adrian stopped in a clearing between a row of palm trees and a bush of hibiscus. Moonlight filtered down through the sweeping palms. No use delaying the inevitable. He turned surveying the darkness from every angle. And still his stalker baited him, refusing to step out, withholding even the satisfaction of confrontation. "Show yourself!" His words echoed off the stucco walls of nearby villas. A rat scurried past him in the shadows. The sound of his breathing was barely audible over the rush of the sea and the whisper of the palms. Reflexively, his hand closed around the hilt of his sword. Useless against this particular villain. But the cold steel was comforting. "You might as well come out, Moira. I know you're there." Laughter mixed with the rustle of leaves. "What do you want this time?" He knew the answer to that rhetorical question. To destroy his life. To destroy every morsel of happiness in the darkness of his existence. "I won't let you do it, Moira!" Laughter retreated, leaving only the whisper of the wind and the distant rush of the ocean. Evening found him in one of the taverns on the wharf. Human bodies packed in close around him. Human smells. Sweat, nearly overpowered by the scent of rum taunted him. The song of their blood thrummed with his pulse. He stared out across the lanterns in the harbor at the sky, dark as his soul. And still no solution came to him. His hand curled around the mug of rum in his hand. A prop to keep up the appearances of being human. Around him his crew drank oblivious to his pain and all else. Across the harbor Opportunity's tall masts bobbed among the dark waves of the Caribbean. In that moment he made up his mind to say farewell to his new love, Veronique, and set sail the following night. Never to return. On his way back to his ship to put his plans in motion, he thought he heard Moira’s laughter floating among the dark clouds.

****

"Let me guess," Frazier ventured. "Moira did something horrible to Veronique?"

Adrian stared blankly ahead, lost in his memories. "Moira did more than that." Just as Frazier was about to ask more, Kiana stuck her head through the office door. Her eyes widened in surprise at finding Adrian in her partner’s office. But she recovered swiftly and addressed Frazier. "Thought I'd pick you up on the way." "On the way where?" Frazier shot a nervous glance in Adrian’s direction. "And you’re supposed to be on holiday." "To the lake. I’ve been called back in. There's a robbery in progress. On the lake!"

CHAPTER THREE

Adrian's Miata screeched to a stop at the docks. Bobbing against the pier, a police cruiser awaited them. "Got a call from an island resident that there was some sort of altercation going on in one of the coves on Ward Island," the officer said, "Thought you ought to ride along." With balance learned from decades at sea, Adrian stepped into the boat. Muscles remembered the pitch and yaw of open water even if his conscious memory forgot. He held out his hand for Frazier to join him. "Ah, no." To his surprise, his friend backed away from the dock. "What's the matter?" Frazier swallowed hard. "I get ... seasick." "Sea!" Adrian fought the urge to laugh. "This tiny backwater?" Frazier coughed behind his hand. "Thanks a bunch. That makes me feel a whole lot better." "Don't worry, detective," said the officer in the captain's seat. "We won't shake you up too much. Water's calm tonight." Frazier glanced again at the waves lapping at the dock. He measured the distance from the shore to the nearby islands and paled. "No problem," Kiana said suddenly. "I’ll go instead." Before Frazier could draw breath to protest, Kiana jumped into the boat. The boat kited out from the dock, knocking her back into one of the passenger seats. Bad idea, she realized almost immediately. Her stomach lurched with every roll of the waves. With white knuckles, she gripped the side of the boat and vowed not to embarrass herself.

Water, dark as ink stretched out on all sides of them, broken only by the silver spray of their passage. Kiana kept her eyes on the glittering lights of houses on the nearby islands. The prow of the boat rose and fell with each gentle wave it crested. If this is calm water, I'd hate to see what he calls choppy, she thought with dark humor. Belatedly, she regretted the burger and fries she'd wolfed down at her desk. A mad dash across Lake Ontario in the middle of the night had not been what she’d planned to do with her evening--but she was within arm’s length of Frazier’s informant. And this time she was going to get to the bottom of his many, dark secrets. Wind whipped hair into her eyes. On the open water, the temperature fell at least ten degrees, but she refused to pry her frozen fingers from the edge of the railing to brush the hair from her eyes or to rub her freezing arms. They skirted Ward's Island, the boat skimming low on its side. Dark water stretched out beneath her. Kiana debated taking up permanent residence on one of the islands rather than make the trip back across. A clump of trees blocked their view of the rest of the island. The officer cut the motor, the boat drifted dizzily around the bend. The roar of an engine shattered the silence. A boat swerved toward them. "There!" Adrian yelled. Quickly, it closed the distance. "What the hell!" The police officer from the harbor unit grabbed his megaphone. "Police! Cut your motor and prepare to be boarded." But the mystery boat kept coming. The police officer reached for his gun, the megaphone forgotten. Peering into the darkness, Adrian scanned the length of the sleek craft with keen eyesight. The space behind the controls sat empty, the captain's chair swinging back and forth with the boat's momentum. He reached out with his acute senses across the distance between them and picked up no life essence. Mixed with the dank smell of lake water, the scent of blood wafted back to him. Dead in the water. He'd seen them all. Ghost ships left to bob aimlessly among the waves until the sea claimed them forever, their crew executed or drowned, their cargo plundered. He'd done a lot of that plundering and pilfering himself. But this ghost ship was bearing down on them full throttle. "He's dead at the wheel!" Adrian leapt for the throttle, arcing the police boat out of the cruiser's path. Again old instincts lent him the skill recent memory had forgotten. "Bring us alongside." Recovering, the officer matched the cruiser's speed. Waves pitched the boat in unpredictable directions. Adrian rose to a crouch. Kiana hauled him back. "You're not going to--" She glanced down at the water rushing below them. "Are you crazy?" "Closer," he ordered in answer. The cruiser's hull smacked against them, sending them skidding off course. The officer swung the boat back along side.

Adrian crouched low and leapt. Impact reverberated up his legs. His shoes skidded along the wet metal. He caught his balance, righted himself, and groped toward the empty captain's chair. Blood assaulted his senses. Smeared over the instrument panel, it offered a grisly trail to the body slumped beneath, one hand still on the throttle. Adrian twisted his head away, at once repulsed and fascinated by the abundance of blood. The scent of it taunted him, whispering endearments in the back of his mind like a lover. His jaw ached. His incisors throbbed, little lightning bolts of pain shot through his gums. Red tinged his gaze. He viewed the murder scene as if through an infrared haze. Saliva dripped from his fangs. He bent toward the profusion of blood. But in the back of his mind a small, rational voice called out a reminder that he should be doing something else, that he had responsibilities other than the slaking of his blood lust. Adrian ignored the voice, bent closer. Yet it persisted in its tiny cry. With a hiss and groan of utter frustration, he whirled away. Grasping the side of the boat, he fought for control. Cold spray splattered his face, drawing his attention back to the problem at hand. Slowly, he became aware of the boat careening drunkenly across the dark water, the police boat still rushing along side. He reached over, cut the throttle. The cruiser sputtered to shuddering halt. Kiana peered anxiously through the darkness. "You okay?" Getting control of his voice, he called across the narrow expanse of water between them. "We’re going to need a tow back to the city. Call Frazier to meet us. We've got a body on board. Or at least what's left of the body," he muttered to himself. "I'm coming over." "No, Kiana, don't." Before he could offer further objections, she was clambering awkwardly aboard. She cast a hesitant glance at the churning black water below, then leapt, sprawling on the deck. "Call for back-up," she instructed the officer still waiting in the other boat. "The perpetrator obviously didn't sprout wings and fly, so he probably escaped by water. Maybe we can head him off before he gets too far." At her suggestion, Adrian probed the nearby water with heightened senses. Echoes drifted back to his ears. Distant voices drifted back to him from the houses and cottages on the island. The cacophony of a multitude of television sets blaring, a domestic argument in progress slammed back at him. Deftly he unraveled the tapestry of sound, explored beyond the layer of normalcy, searching for the one tendril that would lead him to a clue. And found nothing, other than the scent of spent gasoline rapidly dissipating on the damp lake air. Definitely not a chance attack. The murderer had known exactly when that boat would cut across the narrow bay, exactly what it was carrying. He had made his hit with practiced skill, and made an equally deft getaway. "Oh no!" Adrian whirled just in time to see Kiana clamp a hand over her mouth. She lurched to the side of the boat and for a moment he was certain she'd be sick. But determination overrode biological imperative. She straightened, coughed once, and looked up at him bashfully.

"Seasickness?" "I wasn’t expecting it. I’ve never been on a boat before. Promise you won’t tell Frazier?" He should tell Frazier, and get her off the case and out of harm’s way as quickly as possible. But the look in her dark eyes was so earnest and sincere, he found himself agreeing. "Your secret’s safe with me." She coughed again and gained control of her voice. He had to admire her. It took guts to leap onto a moving boat. Guts to be out in the middle of Lake Ontario in the dead of night with the likes of him, even if she didn’t yet realize the danger. Kiana swallowed hard and motioned to the body slumped now on the deck. "Looks like he put up quite a fight. He's practically decapitated." Adrian studied the corpse. Even in the moonlight he could tell its throat had been slit to cover up what the assailant desperately wanted to hide--two tiny wounds above the jugular vein. The jagged wound would easily obscure the evidence, and the blood spilled across the boat’s interior would hide the lack of it in the body. Kiana coughed again and grasped the railing. Adrian could tell the sight played havoc with her protesting stomach. "Guess a few stab wounds didn't slow him down as much as his assailant would have liked," she said after clearing her throat. "Finally slit his throat and made off with whatever he was carrying." Adrian winced as she blanched a shade paler. "We better look below," Kiana said. Placing a hand over her stomach, she staggered toward the cabin. The assailant had obviously taken a violent dislike to the decor. Just like the cabin cruiser that had washed up by Ontario Place, seats had been ripped from their fastenings, panels torn from their rivets. Sodden upholstery squished beneath their feet, mixing with the trail of blood that led from the deck above. "Looks like the victim upstairs got in a few lucky hits," Adrian said. The blood in the cabin was old, diluted in the dampness. Easier to look at. It didn't tug at his hunger like the mess upstairs. "Appears he was running the same kind of stuff as the last guy." Kiana cast a nervous glance at the black water sloshing by the porthole. She had barely mastered her stomach in the stale air of the cabin, Adrian realized with pity. He reached out to grasp her arm. A mistake, he realized. Last night came rushing back into his senses. Her scent, the touch of her skin against his. From the look on her face he could tell she hadn’t forgotten quite as much as he’d willed her to. In spite of his promises to Frazier, there was nothing he wanted to do more than take her away from this carnage back to the safety of her apartment and make love to her slowly. He imagined burying his nose in her cap of shiny brown curls. He imagined covering her full lips with his own and allowing his tongue to plunder the tempting depths of her mouth. Adrian yanked his thoughts away from the rich taste of her blood on his lips. "Go up on deck," he told her, breaking the contact. "You'll feel better if you're in the open air where you can see the horizon." And so would he, he thought darkly.

She nodded gratefully. "You coming?" "I'll be up in a second. Tell them to tow us in. Frazier ought to be waiting at the docks." Kiana fled toward the narrow stairs. Centuries hadn't changed much, Adrian thought, kicking idly at a metal panel lying against the carpet. Nowadays ships were lighter, sleeker more high-tech. A pirate barely needed a crew to do a dishonest day's work. One-man operations were possible. He glanced at the wreckage around him. But the results were the same. Unbidden, the memories lured him back in time…

****

The sky had barely begun to lighten from black to gray, promising another overcast day. Good, Adrian had thought. The heavy cloud cover would buy him time. He had one last errand to run in town. By dawn he’d be at sea, hidden in the darkest corner of his windowless cabin, far from the prying rays of the sun. With Adrian gone, Veronique would no longer be of interest to Moira. In his absence, his lover would be safe. Too bad it hadn’t worked out that way....

****

"The victim had quite the constitution," Frazier remarked as the body disappeared beneath an orange body bag. "Eleven stab wounds and it took slitting his throat to slow him down." "Ugh." Overhearing their conversation, Kiana turned abruptly away. Frazier's eyebrows lowered questioningly. "It was pretty gruesome," Adrian said in explanation. He’d promised to keep her seasickness a secret. He couldn’t rat her out now. He nodded in the direction of the stretcher being wheeled into the ambulance. "Heck of a fighter, as you said. Got some of his own back before he went down. You almost have to admire a guy like that." "Don't admire him too much. He was a pirate." He placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Frazier. Some of my best friends have been pirates." "Yeah, well that's one dead pirate. Don't these idiots ever learn that crime doesn't pay?" Adrian glanced at the boat being loaded onto a trailer. But his thoughts were far away. "Actually, it paid quite well," he murmured. "For awhile, anyway." The look on the detective’s face silenced him. "This is the fourth boat," Frazier bristled. "And we have no leads." "We're checking the hospitals to see if the assailant turned up wounded," Kiana said, rejoining them.

"That isn't going to satisfy the Chief!" Frazier's voice rose, drawing the attention of the uniformed officers around them. "No offense to your dad," he added quickly and lowered his voice. "The Mayor wants to issue a press release warning boaters to stay off the water." "A great way to cause a panic," Kiana said. "My feelings exactly." "It would only warn our pirate to practice his trade elsewhere," Adrian added. "We could offer the Mayor another option," Kiana said. "We could go undercover. Pose as smugglers. Infiltrate this piracy ring. That's the only way we're going to catch this monster." From the look on Frazier ’s face, Adrian could tell he didn’t care for the option at all. "I want this case," she said before he could object. "I deserve this case. I’ve worked hard. And I don’t get seasick," she added with a challenging glance at Adrian. Adrian raised one eyebrow, but stayed silent. "Okay," he said cautiously. A series of emotions crossed the detective’s face. Disbelief, anger, and finally calm acceptance. Frazier had to be desperate to throw him into such close quarters with Kiana, the vampire thought. And that would make keeping his secret more difficult than ever. Last night he’d played with fire and nearly gotten an innocent woman burned. How could he have known he would feel such an attraction to Frazier’s spirited partner? A woman hundreds of years his junior! He didn’t deserve to feel desire. He had a history of death and destruction. Enough blood stained his hands that he might never wash them clean. But since Melinda’s intervention in his downward spiral into depravity, he’d pledged his life to repaying his debt to society, to giving back some of what he’d stolen in fortunes, lives and blood. Now Frazier wanted to throw him back into the clutches of temptation. Just when he’d convinced himself he was beyond its seductive reach. "It’s the only way we’ll catch the guy," Kiana said, still arguing her case. "You’re probably right," Frazier admitted with a deep sigh. He looked desperately unhappy about the prospect. Kiana turned her dazzling smile on Adrian. "Well, since we’re going to be partners, do you have a name?" In answer to Frazier’s disapproving glower Adrian offered her a smile of his own. "Just call me Captain Black." "Give me a moment to talk to Captain Black here," Frazier cut in. "I’ll meet you back at the station." Watching Kiana walk back toward the squad cars, Frazier sank down onto a nearby bench. "Don't worry, Frazier," Adrian said. "She'll be fine." "That’s not what worries me." "Ah," Adrian tipped his head back, examined the night sky. "You’re worried about me." "Don’t take it the wrong way--" Frazier knit his eyebrows. "This is going to be a difficult assignment for her."

Adrian offered his own scowl. "I’m not going to bite her neck, okay?" "It just doesn’t seem like a good idea. She’s had a fascination for you since she got wind that I had a snitch. And you, getting a chance to be a pirate again, and alone out there on the water with an attractive young woman.... But I have no leads, and I’m out of options." "That attractive young woman is a cop," Adrian said. "And a good one at that. As for the rest of it, well, suffice to say I don't have happy memories about that part of my life." "Veronique?" Frazier asked. "Yes, Veronique."

****

Tall palm trees swayed in a sudden wind as Adrian made his way back to the harbor. It looked like the day would be a stormy one. But his ship had ridden out storms before. To ensure Veronique’s safety, he’ d set sail no matter what. He had nearly reached the pier when he heard Moira’s taunting laughter. He took another step toward his ship, but the haunting sound echoed off the open water. He paused trying to gauge its location. Another peal of mirth from behind the black silhouettes of huts that studded the hills at the water’s edge. "Moira!" With a pang of fear, he turned toward the sound. He’d been careful to keep his plans a secret. Only his crew knew of their impending departure. But somehow Moira had discovered his deception. The sound of her laughter drew him further up into the hills. He called her name, pleading with her to show herself. Then abruptly all sound ceased. He stood in a clearing, surrounded by the tall stalks of palm trees. The island hovered on the edge of dawn. Doubling back over his tracks he turned toward the east, where he saw the band of gray light on the horizon. And realized at once how he'd been misled. Morning. The safety of his ship lay far behind him. Between him and sanctuary lay the steadily lightening sky. Smoke stung his nostrils. Cresting a small hill he stared down into the harbor in horror. Flames engulfed Opportunity's hull. He knew from experience that the fire would die when it reached the water. But by then all would be lost. He could not set sail home in a charred timber husk. Nor could he hide from the coming sun. Sanctuary was lost. For a moment he studied the rising flames, caught between the fire on the pier and the rising sun. And then, in the midst of the blaze, he heard Veronique's cry for help.

CHAPTER FOUR

Adrian stared out at the dark water. "That's when my life went completely to hell." "I take it you were too late to save Veronique," Frazier said solemnly. He gave the detective a grim nod. "Veronique’s brother, Gaston vowed to avenge her death. He never forgave me. I never forgave myself." Water lapped in black waves against the pier. "After that I just sort of gave up. I realized it was far too dangerous to involve anyone else in my life. Moira would follow me to the far corners of the earth. And when she found me she would destroy all I held dear. So I surrendered to her. For hundreds of years I just did her bidding. No matter how horrible. My descent into evil started with Moira, but it didn't end when she died. I probably would have continued that way forever." "Wow, that sounds grim. What changed it?" "Another woman," Adrian admitted. "A woman who reached into my life and yanked me out of it." He let a long breath go. "I still have no idea why she did it. She had no reason to." "This other woman, what happened to her? How come you let her go?" "Her name is Melinda," Adrian said. "And that's part of the riddle, she belongs to someone else." Frazier studied him intently. Even in the shadows, Adrian could tell the detective had second thoughts about letting Adrian go undercover with Kiana. "I can protect Kiana," he said suddenly. "I'm probably the only one that can." The detective nodded. "I know. I wouldn't let her go any other way." Adrian grinned. "I don't think she's going to be taking your advice any time soon." Frazier rolled his eyes. "She's impossible. She'll do anything to prove she didn't get her post because her father's the Chief. Just make sure she doesn't get herself killed." "Nothing will happen to her," Adrian said solemnly. "I promise." "It would be great if she didn't find out too much about...." He glanced pointedly at Adrian. "You know." "About vampires. You can say the word, Frazier. I won't think you're crazy. I'm living proof they exist." Frazier rested his head in his hands. "Maybe I am crazy, and you're just a figment of my imagination." The vampire laughed. It felt good to laugh, he thought with a sudden pang. It had been a long time since he'd indulged in mirth. "I assure you I'm very real. There are people who wish I wasn't." "Like this Melinda woman?" "More like her lover, Valdemar," Adrian remarked, then resolutely closed his mouth. The less Frazier knew about the vampire underworld, the better.

The detective was still holding his head in his hands. "Life used to be so much simpler when all we had to worry about was gang and mob activity. Now I've got vampires...." He looked up at Adrian. The whites of his eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "And God knows what else." "Don't worry," Adrian assured him. "We'll catch this law-breaking interloper and deal with him. Then things can go back to normal and you can go back to dealing with the gangs." "That doesn't make me feel much better." Frazier slapped the vampire on the back and stood up. "Come on, Captain Black, let's go brief your first mate."

****

The moon painted the black waves silver as Kiana and Adrian stood on the prow of their borrowed cabin cruiser a few nights later. It hadn't taken long to infiltrate the smuggling ring and offer contraband liquor and cigarettes for sale. Frazier had called in every favor owed to him by his underworld informants. Now they coasted off the shores of Hanlon's Point, drifting silently among the waves, waiting for their rendezvous. Their supposed pirate ship was really a police craft that had been given a hasty coat of paint. The Bounty II was painted across the hull. Kiana hoped there wouldn't be a mutiny or worse. She glanced up at Frazier's snitch, the supposed Marine Unit specialist, code named Captain Black. In the moonlight he looked paler than usual. Instead of the black trench coat she'd seen him in the past few times they'd met, he wore a pair of well fitting black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. In spite of the hot summer weather, it was cool at night on the water. She wore a black windbreaker over her t-shirt, as much to ward off the chill as to conceal her service revolver. If Captain Black had a weapon, he hadn't mentioned it. All evening he'd politely ignored her, averting his eyes, speaking to her only when she'd initiated the conversation. Frazier's snitch sure didn't talk much. And he was the best looking underworld figure she'd ever met. Of one thing she was certain, he was no marine specialist, and no underworld snitch. But so far everything he'd told them about how this alleged piracy ring should work had turned out to be true. He leaned against the railing, nonchalantly staring out into the water, and waiting, every muscle coiled for a fight. He looked like he could handle himself in a tussle, which reassured her somewhat. Green eyes caught the moonlight. Set against his blond hair and pale skin he looked like a statue come to life. And yet he could stand so still, barely breathing, she feared he might actually turn into a statue for real. He had a body meant for temptation. No wonder she dreamt about him, she thought wryly. A woman could only stand so much. She'd dreamt about him just last night. The same erotic dream that had her waking in a mass of sweaty tangled blankets. He'd entered her bedroom as before through the window she'd been certain she'd locked. It must be wishful thinking that kept her forgetting to lock that window. She cast another glance at the gorgeous man standing only a few feet away, pointedly ignoring her. Well, tonight she'd make sure it was locked tighter than a safe. As if taking notice of her suddenly, Captain Black turned toward her. Emerald eyes glinted in the

moonlight and for an instant she stood mesmerized. Whatever was happening between them he felt it too, because his full lips parted slightly. He took a step toward her. Kiss me. The suggestion leapt into her mind, squeezing out every ounce of her better sense. She clung to her professionalism, trying to rein in her desire. But her resolve dissipated like the quiet waves lapping at the shore. Though it was wildly out of character, she might have kissed him in that magical second if the sound of a motor hadn’t shattered the tension between them. As one they turned toward the source of the sound. Adrian shook his head to clear it of the image of Kiana’s luminous dark eyes. Her lips were parted, her heartbeat racing. He’d been about to kiss her. Another second and he might have done it, breaking all of his promises to his friend. Putting thoughts of Kiana’s tempting lips out of his mind, he prepared to deal with the newcomer. Their connection obviously knew these waters well because the boat raced toward them out of the darkness. The wake tossed their craft about in the water, throwing Kiana against the railing. Years of practice kept Adrian on his feet. He reached for Kiana, but she shook him off and nodded toward the oncoming boat. The moment between them had vanished, he thought with relief. At least he wouldn’t have to explain anything to Frazier. Abruptly, the oncoming craft killed its light. A second later its motor sputtered into silence. It drifted toward them on the dark water. Adrian reached for the flashlight lying on the captain’s console. He gave the signal: two long flashes, two short, and received the same in return. In the moonlight he could see the hard set of Kiana’s jaw. She stood waiting, her shoulders tense, ready for anything the situation might throw at them. "Let’s see it," said a voice out of the darkness. Kiana reached for the sample they’d prepared, a watertight package of counterfeit cigarettes and contraband liquor encased in a Styrofoam cooler. Carefully, she leaned over the side of the boat and deposited it into the water. With a pole, she pushed it toward the other craft. It bobbed in the water between them. For a moment Adrian was certain the pirate had become suspicious and that the evening would end in disaster. But then he reached out with his own pole and snagged the package. Pulling it up on the deck he examined the contents by flashlight. He opened the bottle of liquor and sampled it. A cloud drifted in front of the moon, stealing what little light they had. "Okay," said the pirate out of the gloom, finally. Gunning the motor, he maneuvered his boat closer. A sudden gust of wind pushed the clouds off to the south. The moon shone cold and bright giving Adrian a glimpse of the pirate’s face as he came along side them. "Gaston!" he breathed in sudden recognition. Veronique’s brother. Reflexively, he reached for Kiana. But in that instant Gaston recognized him as well. Adrian watched his expression change from calm determination to murderous rage.

No! Adrian thought. This can’t be about me. He thought about the victims, the marks of a vampire so prominently displayed. Had the entire charade been a method of calling him out? It didn’t seem possible. Gaston’s motor roared to life. The sudden movement of the water shook their craft, throwing them off balance. The pirate circled around in a wide arc. There was no mistaking the pirate’s homicidal intent. Adrian raced for the police boat’s controls. "Hang on!" he yelled to Kiana. She already had her gun in her hand. "What’s going on?" "I know him." He turned the ignition. The police boat stuttered once then died. Adrian swore. He tried again. The ignition caught. But Gaston’s boat bore down on them faster than he could maneuver the boat out into the open water. It didn’t take Kiana long to recognize his intention. She fired off a shot. It went wide, burying itself in the hull. "Forget about the gun," Adrian ordered. "Just hold on." "Wait a minute," she yelled back at him. "I’m the police officer. I’m in charge here." "We don’t have time to argue," he hollered back, and gunned the engine. Too late. Already in motion, the pirate had the advantage. Impact threw them to the deck as the boat broad sided them. Adrian winced at the sound of wood and metal tearing. Their craft shuddered and dipped ominously on the port side. He scrambled toward Kiana who’d managed to get her feet under her. The pirate’s boat backed up. Braced against the railing, she fired. The bullet caught Gaston in the shoulder, but the boat kept coming. "What’s with that guy?" Kiana screamed. "I’m sure I hit him." "Forget it," Adrian said, trying to drag her away from her target. "We’re going to have to swim for it." She froze, looking up at him with terror in those huge dark eyes. "I can’t swim," she whispered. The pirate boat rammed them again. Their craft pitched dangerously to port again. For a moment Adrian prayed that it might right itself again. He heard the rush of water filling the breech in the cabin below. The boat tipped, starting its final slide into the water. Cold lake water rushed up over his head. He floundered for Kiana in the darkness. Weeds filled his hands. He heard the roar of a motor again and a final crash as the police boat shattered under the impact. Straining to see in the muddy water, he groped for the young detective. No, no, she couldn’t drown. He had promised Frazier he’d keep her safe. And if he allowed himself to face the truth, she’d worked her way into his heart in the past few days. He reached out and his fingers closed on something that felt like the nylon of her windbreaker. Something falling appallingly fast toward the bottom. Seizing the material in his fist, he kicked toward the surface. Adrian broke through the water’s surface. Being a vampire and difficult to kill, air wasn’t the grave concern it was to Kiana. He held her head above the water. For a moment he worried she’d been under too long. In the moonlight, her lips were blue, her skin cold and clammy to the touch. "No," he whispered softly. History couldn’t be repeating itself. Fate couldn’t be

that cruel. But karma owed him a great deal of cruelty, he thought darkly. "Kiana," he shook her gently, afraid to call her name too loudly and alert Gaston. He patted her back, and called her again. Suddenly, a geyser of water shot from her mouth. She coughed weakly, and spit up some more water. Still, her eyes remained closed and repeated calls failed to rouse her from unconsciousness. But at least she was breathing Adrian thought watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Now he just had to get her out of the water before she perished from hypothermia. He treaded water and tried to catch his bearings. He’d come ashore on the lake side of Hanlon’s point. On the far side of the narrow island boats often docked in the daytime to enjoy a picnic on the scenic island, but in the wee hours of the morning the picnic area was deserted. He crouched in the weeds near the shore and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The police radio had been lost along with the boat. He felt Kiana’s ribs, looking for her service revolver, but her holster was empty. Scanning the darkness with his acute eyesight, he couldn’t see any sign of Gaston’s boat. When their boat sank, the vampire pirate likely assumed they were dead. He listened into the silence. But the only sound came from a chorus of crickets and the persistent lapping of waves against the shore. Bending low, Adrian crept from the water. He kept Kiana cuddled against his chest. But he hadn’t fed recently and he had little body heat to share. He had to get her somewhere safe. And soon. He searched the quiet island. They ferry had long stopped running for the night, and with the radio gone, he had no way of contacting the police force or even Frazier. However, if he could reach the island airport on the tip of the island, he might be able to breech the narrow gap to the mainland with a quick swim that wouldn’t expose Kiana to the elements too long. She moaned quietly, and he pulled her closer still. Exposure to the chill water wouldn’t hurt him, but another chill was the last thing Kiana needed. Not after swallowing an unhealthy dose of lake water as well. Adrian glanced again at the north end of the island that housed the airport and sighed. He couldn’t figure out any other way of handling it. Another swim it was. He raced across the parkland, past the deserted ferry docks, the silent patio restaurants and the utility sheds. Running with the speed of the wind, he made it to the quiet runway. Once he’d left the shelter of the trees, he’d felt exposed. Racing across the runway, he was the highest thing on the tarmac, except for the dark control tower. But nothing stirred on the island side. From the nearby city he could hear the bustle that never ceased, not even in the wee hours of the night. He glanced at the sky. Only a couple of hours to dawn. He couldn ’t risk being detained beyond the lightening of the sky. And now there were questions to answer. Question that involved him. He’d get across the bay, and somewhere safe where he could care for Kiana and wait out the daylight hours. As a detective, she’d know what to do. And it would give him time to think. Adrian slipped into the chilly water. Holding Kiana tight against him, her head safely above water, he swam awkwardly toward the shore. Nothing stirred when he climbed out of water on the city side of the bay. Standing on the boardwalk, he glanced each way to make sure he wasn’t being observed. Then, cuddling Kiana protectively against him, he tore off into the downtown core.

He owned a loft in an old factory in a disreputable area of town. Rough stone walls and wooden floors gave it vaguely rustic look. The exposed wooden rafters reminded him of country barn. Hardly the place to take a woman, he thought shutting the door with his hip and dripping water across the floor on his way to the four poster bed that stood in the middle of the room. He was a minimalist type of guy, he told himself, looking at the sparse décor. Perhaps a bit too minimalist. He owned a barebones loft, a bed, and a stereo. Taking Kiana to her own apartment might have been a better idea, but his place was closer. Still, it was dangerous to have her here, he thought laying her reverently on the bed. She was shivering now, deep shivers that wracked her body. He had to get her out of those wet clothes. Torture, he thought as he stripped off her nylon jacket and eased the sodden t-shirt over her head. He stripped off her socks, running shoes and jeans as well. Beneath it all she wore lacy black underwear. He never would have imagined her wearing something so seductive. It clashed with her no-nonsense personally. The black lace contrasted with her skin, making her look all the more pale. Hooking his thumb behind the clasp of her bra, he expertly undid it, and tried not to look at the rosy peaks of her breasts as they sprang free. He reached down and removed her panties as well and covered her with a thick satin quilt. As an afterthought, he piled on every other blanket he owned, and looked around for something that might put some warmth back into her body. His kitchen was comprised of a dusty kettle and an underused microwave. He’d really just bought them to keep up the pretense of being human. But once in a while Frazier came over, so he’d begun stocking his cupboards with instant coffee and tea. The only other food in the cupboard was a half-empty bottle of Scotch. Just in case, he boiled some water for tea. If he could rouse Kiana, maybe it would help. Once the tea steeped he added a healthy dose of Scotch and came back to keep a vigil by her bedside. Her shivers had subsided and she slept fitfully, but her breathing was deep and regular. For a moment, he simply studied her. He had no business taking her here. No business noticing how cute her upturned nose looked, or how dark her eyelashes were against her pale skin. He shouldn't be fantasizing about how right her soft lips would feel against his, or how he'd like to explore every inch of her. Her pulse beat strongly in her throat. He felt the sharp impression of his incisors biting into his bottom lip. Adrian pulled his thoughts away. Putting the Scotch-laced tea down on the bedside table, Adrian knelt beside her. "Kiana," he called softly. She murmured something in her sleep, and turned over, burying her face in his pillows. "Kiana," he said again, this time more forcefully. Her dark eyes flashed open. Instantly her hand went searching for her missing gun. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she realized that not only was the gun missing, but so was the holster and all her clothes. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she whirled toward him. The momentum set her off balance. He reached out to stop her from tumbling head first from the bed. "Kiana, it's okay." He tried to sound sincere and harmless. "Captain Black," she said, her eyes wary. He sighed. "It's Adrian, actually." "So you do have a name," she said, even more wary.

She looked around his barren apartment, studying the gray stone walls and rough wooden floors. "Where am I?" "My home," he said. "Such as it is." "How did I get here? How did I get...." "Naked?" he supplied. She nodded. He watched her gaze flicker around the room looking for anything that could be used as a weapon against him. "The boat sank," he told her. "You nearly drowned. Your clothes were soaked and you were freezing." Memories seemed to sink in slowly. He watched as she measured the events from her fractured memory against his version of the events. "I was trying to get you warmed up." He nodded to the tea on the bedside table. "There's tea. It has Scotch in it, but I can make you some without if you'd rather." Keeping the blanket clasped around her chest, she reached for the tea and sniffed it. "I wouldn't have taken you for a Scotch drinking man," she remarked. "Normally, I don't drink ... Scotch," he said with a wry grin. "I bought it for Frazier." At the mention of Frazier's name she seemed to relax a little. "Really," Adrian said holding up his hands in surrender. "I won't hurt you, I promise." "And what am I supposed to do if you break your promise?" she asked. "I won't," he said with finality. But she was still staring off into space, trying to remember what had happened out on the water by the islands. "That pirate," she said after a moment. "He knew you." Adrian nodded. "I won't lie to you, Kiana. I have a less than stellar past." "Are you trying to tell me you're a criminal?" "Suffice to say I'm no one you'd want to take home to mother." "I'll take that as a yes." This was a mistake, Adrian thought. When he found out, Frazier would have a fit. "And you know Frazier how?" Kiana asked. The innocent woman who had been lying in his bed had vanished, the detective in her had taken over. "I rescued him from being beaten to a pulp by a gang of thugs," he said. "If you want to know more you'll have to ask Frazier about it, but I'm warning you, he rarely talks about it." "That time he was nearly killed five years ago?" she began. "You saved him?" He nodded. Obviously Frazier had omitted a few pertinent details from the story. Namely that he’d been saved by a vampire. She studied him for a long moment. Then she reached to take a drink of tea and the sheet slipped a little lower, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts.

Her indignant response was an act. He could tell by the heady scent of her pheromones that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. But she had no way of knowing what she was getting into, he realized. Her blood sang to him, tempting him with each beat of her heart. Adrian averted his gaze and stood up. He didn’t want her to think he was some lecher taking advantage of the situation, and he didn’t want to be tempted. It made him crave things he had no right to want. "Let me find you something to wear."

****

The last thing she should be doing was drinking Scotch in a strange man's apartment, Kiana thought, especially a man who had all but admitted to illegal doings. She took another sip, letting the drink’s warmth spread out through her body, chasing the chill away. Maybe it wasn't just the drink that warmed her, she thought. Here she was in the home of the enigmatic Adrian. She couldn't help being intrigued. For months she'd wanted a closer glimpse of him. Adrian. In the months that she’d known of his existence, she’d given him many names. None of them had even been close. She wondered why he’d trusted her with his real one. Something was happening between them. She felt an attraction to him that she’d never experienced before. Her social worker boyfriend had been a safe and ultimately bland guy. In contrast, Adrian tempted her with life on the edge. She’d never considered herself a risk taker, but for some reason Frazier’s informant had her considering all kinds of things that bordered on the unethical. He knelt before a wicker set of drawers, rummaging around looking for something for her to wear. She studied the broad set of his shoulders. His wet clothes clung to every muscle in his back and the damp denim did nothing to hide his sculpted thighs and a backside any woman would swoon over. His blond hair had escaped the ponytail he’d worn it in earlier and now hung in damp tendrils down his back. He’d either kicked off his shoes or lost them she noted as he stood up and walked barefoot toward her carrying a worn t-shirt. "Here," he said putting it down beside her on the bed. "This will be way too big, but it’ll cover you up at least." Holding the sheets with one hand, she reached for it. "Your clothes are soaked." "Yes," he agreed looking down. Apparently neither the dampness nor the chill bothered him much. "I should probably get changed." Snatching another pair of jeans from the wicker bureau, he wandered off in the direction of an alcove she guessed contained the bathroom. A second later, she heard water running. Kiana took advantage of his absence to slip the t-shirt over her head. It fell almost to her knees. Finishing her tea, she took the empty cup to the ancient-looking tub sink on the far side of the loft. She rinsed her cup and put it on the counter. Casting a glance behind her at the bathroom, she heard the water still running. Satisfied Adrian was safely occupied, she opened the cupboard above the sink and glanced inside. A stack of four plates and four matching mugs sat in a dusty heap inside. Beside them she found tin of tea and a jar of instant coffee. The only appliances on the counter were a kettle and a microwave. He didn’t seem to own a refrigerator. Kiana sighed. "Sure doesn’t eat in much."

Adrian emerged a moment later wearing only a pair of black jeans. Kiana sucked in her breath and resisted the urge to whistle. His chest rippled with muscle. Bare and smooth, his pale skin contrasted sharply with the black denim. An intriguing line of blond hair ran from his belly button, disappearing below the waist of his pants. He looked like a statue carved from alabaster. With those mesmerizing green eyes, he pinned her against the counter. I’m a detective, she thought, forcing her legs to carry her away from the counter, from the obvious snooping she’d been doing. I shouldn’t allow him to affect me this way. But whatever spell he’d worked on her, it was a potent one. "I put my cup in the sink," she blurted aloud. He smiled. And for the first time she noticed he had unusually pointed eyeteeth. "I trust you didn’t find anything unusual in my kitchen, detective?" She shook her head. "I didn’t think there would be," she lied. "No?" he asked, seemingly amused. He stood terribly close to her, his body warm from the shower. Tantalizing images of the two of them entwined in his four-poster bed shot through her mind. She pictured his hard body pressed against her while she explored each one of those tempting muscles first hand. "Are you hungry?" he asked, looking every bit like a wolf that might just eat her up. She shook her head. "Do you want to use the shower? It might warm you up." Thoughts of them standing under the steaming spray, her hands tangled in his blond hair, his mouth on her breast seared her imagination. She gave another shake of her head, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d say something she’d regret. "I’m fine," she insisted when she found her voice. "Good," he said moving closer still. "I was worried about you." She had the feeling he meant a great deal more than that. She looked up into those emerald eyes as his mouth dipped toward her. "I’m okay, really," she said, and watched his resolve crumble. His full lips brushed hers tentatively. Soft and moist they teased hers until she opened her mouth and returned his kiss. God, the man could kiss, she thought distantly. "I shouldn’t be doing this," he murmured against her mouth. "Frazier will kill me." "He just might," she admitted. "It will be worth it," he said. And kissed her more thoroughly. She returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm. I shouldn’t be here, she thought. I don’t know anything about this man. I need to check in with Frazier, tell him I’m okay. But her objections fled as his hands circled her ribcage and pulled her against him. Kiana felt every inch of him pressed against her--the hard planes of his chest, his muscular thighs and the evidence of his arousal that told her he wanted her every bit as she wanted him. Deepening the kiss, he rubbed her back with one hand, easing the kinks out of her chilled and abused muscles. She relaxed against him. He freed another hand and skimmed it up over her ribcage until he cupped her breast through the thin material of the t-shirt. He pulled his mouth away and bent his head to tease her nipple through the cloth. Never had she met a man with such a talented mouth, she thought as she gave into the delicious feelings

he evoked and moaned aloud. He raised his head at the sound and smiled. There was heat in his gaze, enough to burn. Standing on tiptoe, she placed a tantalizing kiss of her own on his full lips. Beneath her mouth, she felt his lips quirk upwards in a smile. Something very sharp grazed her lip. She uttered a groan of protest, but then she was lost in the sensations he created. In an erotic dance, he walked her backward toward the huge bed that dominated the entire room. They fell into the scattered covers in a jumble of limbs. Completely ungraceful and yet erotic at the same time, Kiana thought. When she’d been with other men, she’d always tried to disrobe once the lights were off. She worried that men might find her short hair, her no-nonsense demeanor and her job unfeminine. Yet here she was with Adrian, her short hair in total disarray and looking like a drowned rat. And he didn’t seem to mind. In fact quite the opposite, he seemed intent on pleasing her completely as he gathered the hem of the t-shirt in one fist and slowly drew it up over her body. His mouth followed the path of the cloth, painting her thighs with tiny kisses. Each peck ramped her desire up another notch, until when his lips met the sensitive spot between her thighs, she cried aloud. He lifted his head. Blond hair tousled, he stared down at her with those penetrating green eyes. His gaze held a question. "Don’t stop," she begged, appalled at how hoarse and needy her voice sounded. Adrian smiled, that slow smile that only made the heat inside her come to the boiling point. His hair brushed her thighs as he lowered his head to torment her some more. In that moment all the tension and fear she’d kept inside all night burst. Waves of pleasure rolled over her and she screamed aloud. She heard his husky laughter beneath her own cries and opened her eyes to find him looming above her. His green eyes burned with longing. Kiana reached for the top button of his jeans. Her fingers trembled as she tried to undo it. Not from fear, but from pent up desire. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone else before. As if he couldn’t wait any longer, he drew away from her, unzipped his own jeans and kicked them away. Like a lion, he stalked her along the bed until his body covered hers. She felt his erection pressing against the juncture of her thighs. He was far bigger than she’d guessed. Lying down augmented the difference in their heights. She hesitated a moment, but he shifted his weight and entered her. She caught her breath at the sudden sensation of him so hard and thick inside her. But then he began to move slowly and gently. Her hands strayed to his tight buttocks, catching his rhythm and holding him in the place she wanted most. Raising her hips against him, she quickened their pace, impatient now, wanting more of the brand of pleasure only he could give her. He began to move faster as if her desire stoked his own. Pleasure mounted. She opened her eyes, wanting to watch him in the throes of his own desire. But instead of the heat she’d seen there, she saw only torment. His breath came in rapid bursts as if he strove to reach the pinnacle of his pleasure, and yet somehow held himself back. His jaw was ground tightly shut. He caught her glance and his expression became even more tortured. She raised her mouth, to kiss him, anything to calm the fury inside him, but he pulled his face away. Rearing back, he plunged deeper inside her.

She cried out as her body clenched around him and then shattered into crest after crest of sheer ecstasy. He echoed her with a hoarse cry of his own. "Kiana," she heard him whisper. And then all the tension seemed to go out of him at once and he collapsed on top of her. For several minutes they lay there, his body blanketing hers, content just to bask in the afterglow of their mutual pleasure. Then he rolled to the side, pulling her with him. Reaching for the blankets he cocooned them together. He stretched like a giant cat. Looking down at her, he offered her another one of his trademark slow smiles. His earlier tension had vanished. He opened his mouth to say something. The sudden blare of the telephone interrupted him. He glanced at the clock and winced. "Let the machine get it." "But it might be--," she started to say. The answering machine beeped, and then Frazier MacAdam’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker. "Damn!" Adrian said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Adrian snatched the phone from its receiver, cutting off the answering machine. "Adrian!" Frazier hollered. "What the hell!" "It’s okay," he said quickly. Kiana was already reaching for the phone. He held it out of her reach. "Everything’s okay." "Okay!" The detective’s voice nearly exploded through the speaker in the handset. "I have reports that your boat sank off Hanlon’s Point." "Something went wrong with the drop off. Our boat was rammed and it sank, but we escaped. We’re safe." "I haven’t been able to reach Kiana." "We lost the radio when the boat sank, but she’s all right, she’s--" He hesitated. "She’s here with me." Frazier said, "What!" Standing on tiptoe, Kiana had nearly succeeded in wrenching the phone from him. "I’m coming over," the detective hollered into the phone. The line went dead.

Wrapping her hand around the phone cord, Kiana yanked the phone from his grasp. When she heard the dial tone, she hung it up in disgust. "Why didn’t you let me handle that?" Adrian shrugged. He probably should have. Maybe she would have known what to say to prevent the detective’s middle of the night visit. "He’s coming over." "Oh no." Kiana looked wildly around Adrian’s loft. "Tell me you have a washing machine." He shook his head. For once his barren living quarters embarrassed him--but then he’d never intended to entertain female guests there. "I use the 24-hour Laundromat down the road." "We don’t have time," she said, reaching for Adrian’s shirt, now lying on the floor beneath his pants. "Frazier is coming over, and I’m--I’m naked!" "I’m sure I can find something else for you to wear." Adrian picked up his pants and hurriedly put them on. He handed Kiana the t-shirt she’d been wearing and shoved the comforters on the bed back into order. Looking down into her face, her lips swollen from his kisses and her short hair in disarray, he couldn’t help kissing her again. "Don’t worry." "Don’t worry?" Her voice inched up an octave. "Don’t you know what this looks like? The last thing I need is for my father to know that I slept with a--" "Snitch?" he supplied. His first instinct had been correct. He should have stayed as far away from Kiana Douglas as he could. If sleeping with Frazier’s informant had her dismayed, what would she think if she knew she’d slept with a vampire? A vampire who’d just barely resisted sinking his teeth into her neck. He sighed. She’d tempted him in a way no other woman had. For once someone had looked at him and seen only him instead of the monster within. He’d wanted that so badly. Yes, his conscience reminded him, he’d deceived her. She thought him merely a man with a dubious past. The ugly truth would send her running screaming. With a deep sigh, he rummaged in his drawers, finally coming up with a beat up pair of sweats, the ones he wore to that all night Laundromat when everything else in his closet was dirty and the laundry couldn’t wait another minute. At least they were clean. And now he had to clean up the rest of it and give Kiana back her life, a life uncomplicated by the likes of him. "Here," he said, handing them to her. "Put these on and calm down." He gave her a reassuring hug and cursed himself for touching her again. "We’ll tell Frazier the truth, minus the … more personal aspects. Act naturally and Frazier won’t suspect anything. And we’ll … we’ll talk later." She nodded gratefully and pulled on the sweats. She had to roll up at least a foot of material to prevent tripping over them. With her hair mussed, his shirt hanging down to her knees and his rolled up sweats she looked adorable. He wanted to rip those clothes off her and do it all again, this time with a long drink of her blood-Someone hammered on the door. With what he hoped was a supportive glance at Kiana, he strode to the door and opened it. A red-faced Frazier burst over the threshold. The detective’s wiry hair stuck out at odd angles like he’d spent the night running his hands through it. "I have been going out of my mind worrying about you!"

"We were just about to call you," Adrian said as his friend marched past him. Stopping in the middle of the loft, Frazier turned to face him. "Do you have any idea what’s been going through my mind?" Adrian walked to the kitchenette and reached for one of the dusty glasses on the shelf. Holding up the bottle of Scotch, he motioned to the glass. Frazier nodded grimly. "Sit down, have a drink and we’ll tell you all about it." "Everything’s fine," Kiana cut in. "Well … except for the boat, which is at the bottom of the lake along with my service revolver … that’s going to be a bit of a problem." Frazier seemed to take notice of her for the first time. His gaze swept over her taking the obviously borrowed clothes and her disheveled condition. His glance shifted to Adrian and his face darkened. The vampire handed him the Scotch. "We had no way of getting in touch," Adrian said trying to sound reasonable. It had been a long time he thought, suppressing a smirk, since he’d been caught in a compromising position with a woman. Or at least since he’d cared enough to be embarrassed about being caught, likely several hundred years. "Once the boat sank, the radio was lost. It all happened very fast." He didn’t elaborate what exactly had happened fast. "Adrian’s place was closest," Kiana added. "So we came here." At the mention of the vampire’s given name, Frazier’s face darkened to maroon. He took a long pull on his drink. "When I heard, I suspected the worst." He shot Kiana a probing glance. "I have no idea what I would have told your father." Kiana returned the look with mock innocence. It was a passable performance, Adrian thought, one worthy of him. "You don’t have to tell my father anything," she insisted. "I’m fine." Quickly, she filled her partner in on what had happened on the boat. "Once he recognized Adrian it was all over," Kiana finished. Frazier's probing gaze centered on Adrian. He looked even more displeased than he had a moment ago. "Someone you know?" "Gaston," he admitted. "Though I'm sure he's using a new name by now." "We need to get Adrian downtown and have him look through the books," Kiana said. "If we can get out an APB on the guy, we have a chance of stopping him." Adrian shot Frazier what he hoped was a glance that said they'd discuss his former acquaintance later. "Okay," the detective said with a warning glance of his own in Adrian's direction. "I'll take Mr. Strachan downtown and have him I.D. the guy." "I'll come with you," Kiana said quickly. "You'll go home and get some rest," Frazier said. "I'll need you sharp for tomorrow." "But this is my case!" "It is," he conceded. "So go home and get some sleep before I feel compelled to discuss this with your father."

Her face flushed at the mention of the Chief of Police's name, but she said nothing. She looked at Adrian, clearly on the verge of saying something, then changed her mind. "We'll drop you off at home on our way downtown," Frazier said with finality.

****

Kiana insisted on sitting in the front seat, still clothed in Adrian's sweats and her damp clothes in a plastic bag on her lap. She spent the ride fuming at Frazier and didn't say a word to either of them. When they pulled up in front of her apartment, she promised her partner she'd see him in the morning. With an unreadable glance in Adrian's direction, she disappeared into her apartment. Frazier interpreted the glance and scowled at Adrian as the vampire got out of the back of the squad car. "Tell me I don't need to worry about this," he snarled as Adrian climbed into the front seat. "You don't," Adrian said tersely. He'd find a way to end it now. Before he involved Kiana any further in the sordid doings of his life. "Want to tell me about it?" Frazier asked as he swung the car around and headed for the police station. Adrian couldn’t tell if he meant what happened with Kiana or Gaston. He decided the latter. Adrian let his breath go. "It would seem Veronique’s brother has finally come to avenge her." "Veronique? The woman you were involved with hundreds of years ago?" He nodded solemnly. "Apparently, Gaston still blames me for her demise." "But you loved her!" "I loved her more than life itself. I would have given anything to save her. Even my own life." "Assuming that this could possibly be this Gaston person after all these years, why would he blame you for his sister's death?" "Apparently he received some ... misinformation." Adrian studied the darkness outside the car window. "I can only imagine from whom." "That Moira woman?" Frazier asked. Adrian smiled grimly at his turn of phrase. "Without a doubt. And I think I know how old Gaston came to be alive half a millennium later." "She made him a vampire." The detective was silent for a moment. "But you said she was dead." "Oh, she’s quite dead," Adrian reassured him. "But she had a long life, and she devoted most of it to causing other people pain." They were quiet for a few moments. Suddenly Frazier said, "Good God, Adrian. Is this mess all to do with you?" He nodded grimly. "So it would seem. Moira and I left the Caribbean and came to the new world. We

found that the great lakes offered lots of hiding places and opportunities to continue our trade. It only makes sense that Gaston might look for me here." "Assuming you haven’t changed your ways," Frazier asked. "Yes," he agreed. "Assuming that."

****

It turned out Gaston wasn't in Frazier's book of mug shots. Adrian closed the last volume. "Not here." He glanced up at the detective. "Who knows where he's been lurking all these years." "Is it even possible to photograph a--" Frazier glanced around at the quiet office. "One of your kind," he finished. Adrian bit back a laugh. "Sure, it's possible. But we try to avoid it. Photography can be dangerous to those who don't age." "I can see why." The detective studied Adrian's reflection in the office window. "So all that stuff about crosses and garlic and not casting a reflection is untrue." "A lot of rubbish. And kindly don't try the silver bullets, either. They'd hurt, but they wouldn't slow me down much." The detective didn’t seem to appreciate his attempt at humor. "So if we're going to stop this Gaston guy, we're going to need you." Frazier put the thick book back on the shelf. "But if we've got nothing on the guy how are we going to track him down?" "That shouldn't be a problem," Adrian said. "Now that he knows where I am, he'll come for me." "We have to keep Kiana out of this," Frazier said. "I agree." "She doesn't know what you are?" Adrian shook his head. "I didn't tell her. All she knows is that I have a shady past. And this is an acquaintance from my misspent youth." That was true enough, he thought. She didn't need to know any more. He had no business involving her in supernatural matters. And who knew what a detective would do with that kind of information? It was dangerous to say the least. Dangerous to all of his kind. "Call him out," Frazier suggested. "It's worth a try. I'll put the word out through my connections on the street that I’ve got a new ship, I’m back in business and looking to settle an old score. Hopefully, he'll come gunning for me. " Adrian glanced up at Frazier sitting behind his cluttered desk and contemplating the depths of his coffee mug. "Do you think they'll assign you another boat?" "It won't be easy to convince them to trust us with another one," he admitted. "But I'll do what I can." "What about Kiana?"

Frazier hastily downed the cold remains of his coffee. "I'll go lean on the Chief to convince his daughter to take that holiday time." He didn't look like he relished the task.

****

As the sun bled the last of its life across the horizon, Adrian stood on the prow of another hastily disguised police boat. The craft was moored off the shores of Hanlon's point mere feet away from their last encounter. He'd sent an email to the address Gaston had been using. He had no idea if the vampire would show. On the city side pier Frazier paced nervously. The island blocked his view of the nearby mainland, but during their last radio conversation his sensitive hearing had picked up the repetitive slap of the detective's shoes against the cement. At least Kiana was safe. Frazier had gone all the way to the Chief to get his daughter signed off on vacation. She wouldn't like it, but at least she'd be safe at home and she wouldn't be in danger of finding out any more of his secrets. Adrian stared into the darkness, hoping Gaston would show himself soon and at the same time praying he wouldn't. He didn't want to be reminded of his time as a pirate or of the beginning of his long slide into depravity. A rustling in the bushes behind him on the shore sent him whirling to face the intruder. "Hi," said a voice. Kiana emerged from the brush. "Permission to come aboard, Captain Black?" "You're not supposed to be here." She smiled, her teeth glinting white in the darkness. "I know." Adrian strode to the starboard side of the boat. Gripping the rails he treated her to his very best glower. She looked delectable standing there all dressed in black like a cat burglar. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and lay her out on the deck and make love to her under the stars, but he'd called out a vampire pirate, one with a brutal score to settle. If Gaston thought he could destroy his life by murdering the woman he loved, he would do it knowing it would cause Adrian untold pain to watch her die. Just as Gaston had been forced to watch Veronique perish. It wasn't his fault, but Gaston had spent the last five hundred years thinking it was. "You have to leave Kiana," he said. "This pirate has a score to settle, and I don't want you involved." "I'm already involved," she insisted. "It's my job to be involved. And I have no intention of getting hurt." Adrian leaned over the railing. Part of him was delightfully glad to see her. The other part wanted to yell at her. "Kiana, I don't doubt your skill as a detective. But you don't know what we're dealing with here." She opened her mouth to protest, but just then they heard the purr of a nearby motor. Kiana glared up at Adrian. "Are you going to let me board, Captain Black, or do I have to swim." "You can't swim," he reminded her. "All the more reason you shouldn't be here." "It's my case," she said through clenched teeth. She glanced in the direction of the motor. "And we're running out of time."

Cursing fluently under his breath, Adrian brought the boat in closer to the shore. "How did you get here?" he whispered, reaching out a hand to pull her aboard. "I took the last ferry." "You've been hiding here ever since?" "Like I said, it's my case."

****

The sound of the motor grew closer. Adrian maneuvered the boat out of the cove and out onto the lake. Catching sight of him, the pirate brought his own boat in closer and extinguished the lights. For several moments they floated quietly with only the lapping of the waves against the hull to break the silence. "Gaston!" Adrian yelled. "Show yourself. I know it's you!" There was no response from the darkness. For a moment they waited in silence. A motor started up. Out of the darkness a boat careened toward them. Adrian gunned the motor. The momentum threw Kiana off balance and she fell to the deck. But she had her feet back under her in seconds. A shadow roared past them. Adrian maneuvered the police craft out of the way just in time, but the wake tossed them about, making moving difficult and unpredictable. Circling around, the cabin cruiser came at them again. A wave splashed over the deck, drenching them both. Adrian tried to evade its onward rush, but he couldn't move the craft fast enough. Belatedly, he felt a rush of air. A shadow sailed toward him. He glanced up just in time to catch Gaston mid-leap. Too late he raised his arm to ward off the attack. Sudden impact sent him sprawling on the deck. The vampire’s abandoned boat soared past them, rushing into shallow, weed-ridden water at the island's shore. As Adrian struggled against the vampire’s weight, he heard the crackle of the radio from somewhere off to his right. "Strachan, report in!" Frazier's voice. He wanted to answer, but arms like steel beams pinned him to the deck, stealing his attention. Adrian looked up into dark eyes filled with hatred. "Well, if it isn’t Adrian the Black," Gaston snarled. Against the sky his eyes were a pair of black, bottomless holes. His top lip curled back, exposing his fangs. Behind him Adrian heard Kiana gasp. That small sound of amazement and horror drew Gaston’s attention. "Ah, another young woman," he murmured in his native French. He raked his gaze over Adrian, and then switched to heavily accented English. "So much like my Veronique." For a moment his hatred was replaced by a look of utter sadness. "And so foolish to be associating with the likes of you." "Look Gaston," he said, trying to sound reasonable in spite of being throttled. "I can only imagine what

you've been told, but Veronique's death wasn't my fault." "You lie!" Gaston snarled back at him. "And you will pay." There was nothing he could say to change Gaston's mind, he realized. He shuddered to think of what Kiana was making of all of this. Adrian wrenched his neck to see Kiana still staring at Gaston. He’d heard her startled intake of breath when she’d spied Gaston’s fangs. Now faced with the blatant evidence that vampires existed, she was trying to find a rational explanation for it. He didn’t have time to explain, he had to get her away from Gaston. "Get out of here, Kiana," he yelled. Gaston’s hands closed around his throat, attempting to choke off the rest of his words. "There are lifejackets under the seats. They’ll keep you afloat," he managed to rasp out. "Who is Veronique?" she asked softly. "Go!" he tried to tell her, ignoring her question. There simply wasn’t time to explain. Gaston bent his head toward his throat. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Kiana’s gaze flickered from the nearby shoreline to the radio lying just beyond Adrian’s reach as she debated which was the safer bet--calling for back-up or risking another midnight swim. Faced with dealing with the impossible, she relied on her instincts as a police officer. Drawing her gun she yelled, "Freeze!" Gaston laughed low in his throat. "Oh, so feisty. I will drain you to the brink of death and then you will watch me kill your human lover. You will take the sight to your grave for all eternity." He should have been more diligent about feeding, Adrian thought with regret. Refusing to drink human blood and all this masquerading as a human had left him weakened. Gaston apparently had no such scruples. Helpless to reply, Adrian felt the burning bite of Gaston's fangs. His mouth moved in a soundless moan. Gaston sunk his teeth deeper, anything to heighten the pain. Adrian's entire body jerked. He heard the pop of Kiana's service revolver. The bullet hit Gaston squarely in the chest, but the vampire was too far gone with blood lust to care. "Is that gunfire?" he heard Frazier ask through the radio. "Send back-up!" Kiana shrieked and fired again. The bullet hit the vampire in the shoulder, but his grip on Adrian didn't weaken. His leg shot out, kicking the radio into the water where it sank like a stone. He heard Frazier yell something unintelligible before the water swallowed the sound. Losing blood rapidly to Gaston's fierce swallows, Adrian fought to keep his grip on consciousness. Sounds came from far away. He felt as if he were lying at the bottom of a very large pit. Is this what his victims had felt like while he had merrily drained them of their lifeblood? It seemed like fate intended to pay him a very cruel joke. Of all the ways he thought he might die, being drained to death by another vampire hadn't been one of them.

Kiana fired her gun again. Gaston raised his head, loosening his grip on Adrian's neck. The vicious look he shot Kiana said he'd enjoy doing the same to her while a dying Adrian watched. "Kiana get out of here!" Adrian tried to yell. He barely recognized the weak sound as his own voice. "Bullets can't kill him. Save yourself." "No way," she yelled back and fired the gun again. Gaston uttered a roar of challenge in response. "What will kill him?" Kiana screamed back. But Gaston had renewed his attack on Adrian and he couldn ’t find the strength to answer. The entire world seemed to be shrinking into the tiny piece of dark sky that was all he could see beyond Gaston's head. For Kiana's sake, Adrian fought for that last hold on his life. He heard her feet scuff across the deck. Her gun fired again. He heard wood splitting and her grunt of effort. Something dark rushed past him. Abruptly Gaston shrieked, an inhuman sound like an animal in pain. Letting go of his prey, he lunged for Kiana. Adrian noticed a shard of wood sticking out of his back just below his heart. Weakened beyond what he would have thought possible, Adrian levered himself unsteadily to his feet. Using the railing for support, he threw himself in the direction Gaston had taken. The vampire had almost reached Kiana. With the last of his strength, he lunged for the other vampire. They collided. Gaston went down under his dead weight. Fumbling, Adrian managed to lift his hand and pound the stake in further. Gaston screamed again, louder and more horrifying this time. Dark red vampire blood spurted from the wound. It ran across the deck in a thick streak, gleaming black in the moonlight. The vampire jerked once. He uttered a wet gurgling sound, then fell silent. "Is he dead?" Kiana's voice seemed to float on the night air. Adrian gazed up at her, marveling that she could look so lovely coated in Gaston's blood with her short hair sticking out at odd angles. Her clothes were ripped and smeared with dirt, but he would treasure this last glimpse of her forever. Assuming there was a forever for his kind. "I think so," he said. He could barely force the words past his bruised throat. "But we must be sure." Kiana glanced at the body lying on the deck. "This is going to be very hard to explain..." Consciousness started to drift away from him. He heard the waves lapping at the shore. The sound seemed to be urging him to float away with them. But he couldn't leave Kiana without an alibi. "Drive the boat into the weeds. With a lifejacket, you ought to make it to shore from there. Douse the boat with the gasoline from the can beneath the console." He nodded in the direction of the captain's chair. "That way you can tell them Gaston rammed the boat and it caught fire." "What about you?" she demanded. "Leave me," he whispered. "I'm not going to make it anyway." "Yes, you will," she insisted. He tried to object, but the call of the darkness was far too strong.

Burning boats seemed to be a theme in his life, he thought with grim humor. A distant memory of a subway station engulfed in flames drifted through his mind. Fire in general seemed to be his curse.

****

Pieces of burned timber floated on the water in the harbor. Standing on the dock Adrian looked at the remains of his ship and his life. "Veronique," her name crossed his lips like a prayer. A prayer to a God he had forsaken. A piece of charred lace drifted on the tide. It wrapped around the wooden posts of the pier. Lying flat out in the light of the setting sun, he reached beneath and retrieved it. It was singed, but not completely burned. He looked at the damp square of lace in his hand. Veronique's handkerchief. Pain like a red-hot poker seared his chest. He'd tried rebuilding his life and putting his evil deeds behind him, and all he'd succeeded in accomplishing was an innocent woman's death. The good life simply wasn't for him, he decided. Tossing the handkerchief back into the cleansing sea, Adrian turned away from the harbor and back to the eternal darkness that was his fate.

****

"Adrian!" Someone shook him hard. He opened his eyes to find Kiana bending over him. She shook him again. He tried to stay in the moment and failed. "Adrian!" The anguish in her voice brought him back. Beyond her left shoulder he could see the dull glow of a boat on fire. Damp clothes clung to her body and lake water slicked her hair to her head. "Hopefully Frazier heard my call for back-up and help is on the way." "No!" he managed to croak out. "You need help. You need to go to a hospital." "The hospital can't help me." Every moment was a painful exercise in endurance. He just wanted to fade into the seductive blankness that beckoned. With any luck there wouldn't be anything else waiting for him on the other side. "But you're injured," she insisted. "I'm dying. And no amount of medical science can save me." He met her anguished gaze. "I'm far beyond the realm of science of any kind." Something stirred in her eyes. A faint hope. "I know." She said the words calmly. Most people would have run screaming, but not his dark-haired detective. Even faced with the unbelievable, she was willing to meet it head on. "I know what can save you," she said softly. With one hand she pulled the collar of her wet t-shirt down,

exposing her neck. "Don't!" He turned his head away. In his weakened condition the promise of her blood was unbearable. He wouldn't be able to control himself. He couldn't count on stopping before he'd drunk every drop in her body. Not to mention that once his saliva had contaminated her bloodstream, he'd have to turn her, or she'd die. "It doesn't work that way," he managed to choke out. "It would kill you." "But--," she started to say. "Don't grieve for me, Kiana. I'm more than deserving of my fate. Trust me, you don't want to be like me." She hadn't so much as mentioned the word vampire, he realized. Perhaps she was having a harder time handling it than he suspected. "There must be someone who can help you." Her words seemed to come from far away. He sank further into the cottony darkness. Just as he was about to surrender completely, the image of a female vampire with dark hair and sapphire eyes drifted through his mind. "Melinda...," he whispered. "Who is Melinda?" Kiana's nails dug into his arms. "Can she help you?" "She might," he breathed. "Or not." "She will," Kiana insisted. "Or I'll put her in jail." The thought of Melinda in jail made him laugh weakly. "Tell me where to find her." Darkness washed over in him a inky wave. He thought he told her, but he couldn't be sure.

****

He surfaced what felt like a long time later. Voices seemed to come from far away. Familiar voices. Arguing. He was lying on something soft. Someone had covered him with a thick blanket. Wan daylight shone in a bright circle around the heavy drapery that covered the window. Not a hospital, he thought with relief. He concentrated on the angry conversation taking place just outside the door. "I advise you not to do this, Melinda." A male voice. One he knew very well. Valdemar. Val royally pissed off was not a good thing. If Valdemar had his way, he'd already be dead. "The last thing we need is to be involved in more of Adrian's sordid affairs." A deep female sigh, then, "We're already involved, Val. He brought a police officer here." "A human detective," Val said. "Not the kind of person he usually hangs out with." Melinda sounded worried.

Adrian smiled slightly, despite the pain in his battered body. Valdemar was going to lose this argument. He just didn't know it yet. "If I had to guess, I'd say there's more between them than she's letting on." A long silence. Then Valdemar said, "Even if I was to agree to this mad plan, Adrian needs more blood than either you or I can spare." "Cornelius might help," Melinda offered. "I have no idea if Neil's in town." The door creaked open slightly. He caught a glimpse of her ocean-blue eyes as she peered inside. "Call him, Val. I'll see what I can do." "I can't talk you out of it?" She shook her head. "I guess I can always kill him later," Valdemar muttered, and walked off down the hall. From further away he heard him murmur something to Kiana. Then their voices faded into silence. The door opened more fully. "C'mon, Adrian, I know you're awake." Despite what she'd said to Valdemar, Melinda looked extremely displeased to see him. The bed gave as she sat down beside him. He looked at her mournfully. "Okay, out with it. And I want the truth. What is your relationship with that cute little detective in the living room?" "I love her," he rasped. His voice, like the rest of him was one breath away from sliding into oblivion forever. "Your girlfriend is a police officer?" Melinda said incredulously. "Why does that have bad idea written all over it?" "Don’t look at me that way," he objected feebly. "I sure didn’t plan it this way. It just happened." "And Moira was a pirate?" Melinda shook her head. Obviously, Valdemar had filled her in on a few of the more salacious details of his history. "Why am I not surprised?" He opened his mouth for a pithy reply, but something warm covered his lips. He protested weakly, but something hot and salty filled his mouth. He swallowed, tasting her blood. It flowed into his body, repairing damaged cells as it went, giving him back the life Gaston had stolen from him. Adrian reached up to cradle her wrist gently against his mouth. A sigh involuntarily escaped her lips. He tried to take her life essence tenderly, not to demand too much, but his need overrode his best intentions and as he regained his strength he began to suck more powerfully. Abruptly, he was yanked away from the source of that heavenly essence. He tried to hang on, but strong arms held him down. He bared his teeth and snarled at the gift being withheld from him. "Now you see him how he truly is," Valdemar remarked. He didn't remember the other vampire arriving. He didn't remember anything after Melinda had offered

him her blood. His teeth snapped empty air as Valdemar held him away from her by the scruff of his neck. "Easy Adrian," Valdemar growled. "Do that again and you'll be meeting your maker regardless of what Melinda wants." He shot his lover a warning look. "Val--," Melinda protested weakly. "That’s enough, Melinda. As soon as it is dark, you must hunt." Behind them the door opened. Cornelius stepped into the room. It had been years since Adrian had seen his former friend. Like the rest of them, Cornelius hadn't changed very much. He still wore like long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. But his hazel eyes were wary. His gaze snapped from Melinda to Valdemar, then focused for a long moment on him, sizing up the situation. "Has anyone noticed that there's a police officer in the living room?" he asked. "Yes," said Melinda and Valdemar in unison. "A detective who probably shouldn't be left alone too long in a vampire's home," Valdemar said pointedly. "I'll go see to her." "I'll come with you," Melinda offered. "You should lie down," Valdemar told her. "You need to rest until sundown." The female vampire looked unusually pale, even for one of her kind, Adrian thought. Had he truly taken that much? Instantly, he knew the answer. Her blood thrummed through his veins, repairing the damage that Gaston had done--but he needed more. Drained nearly to the point of death, he needed a massive infusion of blood. Still eyeing him warily, Cornelius sat down on the bed beside him. "Well," he remarked finally. "You look like hell, but then I suppose you have looked worse." "Neil--," he started to say, but the vampire held up a hand to silence him. "Don't. The less I know the better." Adrian nodded soberly. "I assume you're going to square things up with the lady police officer?" "I'll vouch for her," he said. "She's made of sterner stuff than she looks." Cornelius raised his arm and bit into the tender flesh on the inside of his wrist. Bending over, he offered the crimson drops of blood to Adrian. "I hope you appreciate this because you're really not my type...." Adrian laughed once. Then he was lost in the vampire's healing blood.

****

Kiana leapt to her feet as the dark haired vampire and his petite girlfriend entered the room. Valdemar

and Melinda, Adrian had called them. She didn't care what their names were. When she'd arrived, they'd whisked Adrian away into some dark corner of the rambling modern castle they lived in. She hadn't seen him since. Phones rang. People moved around in the corridors above, but no one had told her a thing. "Where have you taken Adrian?" "Adrian's going to be fine," the woman said. "Try not to worry. We'll take care of him." "I want to see him." "In a little while," Valdemar said. She found it hard to look away from his dark eyes. He had an intensity that grabbed her attention and held it. She refused to be swayed. "I want to see him, now!" She put every ounce of authority she possessed into the command, but it didn't seem to have any effect on either of the vampires. That's what they were. She forced herself to believe the impossible. That's what Adrian was. She didn't know what to think about that. She'd wait until she was certain Adrian wasn't going to die to even consider the possibility. "Adrian's ... recovering," Melinda said kindly. Kiana focused on the petite vampire. She seemed unusually pale and tired, but she radiated power from every pore. Long dark hair flowed over her shoulders. Blue eyes practically glowed in that pallid face. But in spite of the awkwardness of the situation, she seemed almost ... nice. In contrast, her lover Valdemar had dark curly hair and brown eyes that bordered on black. He loomed over Melinda, glowering. It was plain that if it had been up to him, he would have left Adrian to perish--and that made her nervous. "Yo, Val," someone called from the floor above. "Your turn." A wordless glance passed between Melinda and Valdemar. He nodded almost imperceptibly to the female vampire, and then disappeared down one of the innumerable corridors. "Sit down." Melinda indicated the leather couch that stood before a heavily-curtained window. She perched on the edge of it. Melinda sat down beside her. "You have to understand that Adrian is not really a friend of ours." That didn’t sound so good. Kiana started to stand up to go in search of Adrian herself. Melinda put a calming hand on her arm. "We will help him," the vampire continued, "but this help comes with a price." "What kind of price?" Kiana asked, her mouth suddenly dry. Crystal blue eyes locked with hers. "Your silence." Duty warred with love. She did love Adrian, far more than she'd ever thought it possible to care for another person, but she was a police officer. She'd promised to serve and protect the citizens of the city. Now she'd learned that there were vampires and who knew what else prowling the streets at night. She had a duty, but exercising that duty might mean hurting the man she loved. "I don't know if I can do that...." The intensity in those eyes increased. "You must." Her words hung in the silence between them. Suddenly it all made sense. Frazier had already made the same choice. He’d tried to keep her away from

Adrian because he knew the truth about his nature. For reasons unknown to her, he had agreed to keep Adrian's secret. "Think of it this way, detective...." Melinda's voice broke into her thoughts. She couldn't miss the emphasis on her rank. "Adrian helped you stop a criminal who would have almost certainly taken more lives in this city--and he did so without thought for his own safety or his own life." "That's true," Kiana admitted. "He's been helping my partner catch criminals for years." "As far as I'm aware, there is no law against being a vampire." The way the young woman said it, it seemed so reasonable. "He saved my life," she mused. "I would have been killed." And Frazier trusted him. Frazier! She’d been so worried about Adrian, she hadn’t even thought about getting in touch with her partner. Somehow she had to notify him that they were okay. But not until she knew Adrian would be all right. The vampire was still staring at her waiting for her agreement. "Okay," she said finally. "I don't know how I'm going to make all of this work, but your secret is safe with me." Melinda smiled, showing tiny fangs, and making Kiana wonder what she'd just agreed to. Upstairs a door opened and then closed. Footsteps echoed along the hallway. "Come," Melinda said. "I'll take you to see Adrian."

****

The ostentatious castle had myriad rooms, Kiana thought as Melinda led her to a door that looked just like every other door on an endless corridor. She had to admit it appealed to her sense of humor that two vampires lived in a modern house done up to look like a medieval castle. Aside from their choice of living quarters, they seemed somehow ... well, normal. "I'll leave you two alone," Melinda said, reaching forward to turn the door handle. "Just yell if you need anything." She smiled reassuringly. "We have very good hearing. We'll hear you." With that she strode off down the hallway, leaving Kiana alone. She pushed the door open and looked inside. Adrian sat up in bed, leaning weakly against the headboard. Mud from the lake still caked his blond hair, but he'd lost the deathly pallor his skin had had before. His emerald green eyes locked with hers as she crossed the room and sat down beside him. "So," he said. "Now you know." She nodded.

"I'm sorry Kiana, I should have told you. Especially, before we...." He let the sentence trail off. "I never meant for that to happen." So he felt it too. "Neither did I," she admitted. He looked relieved to hear that. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked him. He smiled and in spite of the shock he'd given her, she had to admit, it was a very appealing smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." His smiled faded. "What about you? Are you going to be okay with all of this?" She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "So, what now?" Adrian asked. He looked uncharacteristically nervous. "What do you mean?" "What about us?" The question hung in the air. Kiana spread her hands. "I don't know. Can a vampire and a--" "Human?" he supplied. "Could they have a relationship together?" "I don't know," Adrian admitted. "I guess that part is up to us." It sounded so simple the way he said it. And maybe it was, she realized suddenly. Outside the sun was setting. She could tell by the red glow around the velvet drapery. She glanced back at Adrian's hopeful expression. Vampire or no, she wanted him. In her heart she'd never been so sure of anything else. She rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers. For several minutes neither said anything. The only sound came from the distant rush of traffic on the nearby highway. Adrian stirred. His silken hair brushed her cheek. Then she felt the velvet touch of his lips. "The others will be going out," he murmured against her mouth. "They've donated a great deal of blood to me, and they'll need to..." He let the sentence trail off. "Feed?" she supplied. He nodded gravely. He stroked the side of her cheek. "Don't worry, Kiana. It's not as gruesome as you're thinking." "But won't they have to take human blood? To kill?" Adrian shook his head. "Animal blood will suffice in a pinch. And bagged donated blood can also substitute." Kiana didn't even want to contemplate how they came by that. "These days no one wants to risk being discovered," Adrian was saying. "That's what made Gaston so unusual."

Kiana barely heard him. She was thinking back to the previous winter when a junkie had frozen to death sleeping on the sidewalk. At the time the unseasonably cold night mixed with a massive dose of heroin seemed like a plausible cause of death. But now she couldn't help wondering about the numerous puncture wounds on the underside of his arms, behind his knees and on his ankles...anywhere there were veins to drink from. She opened her mouth to ask him about that, but Adrian traced the line of her jaw with a finger. "You don't need to worry about my friends." He leaned in for another very thorough kiss that made her concerns seem far away. But there was still one nagging worry in the back of her mind. "What about me?" She struggled for the words. "Don't you want my blood? I could have sworn that when we were ... you know ... that you.…" "I can't drink your blood," he said softly. "It doesn't work the way it does in the movies. You don't just indiscriminately bite someone and make them a vampire. I'd have to take your blood several times to initiate the change. And then you'd have to drink mine to complete the transformation." "And if you only bit me once?" "My saliva would contaminate your bloodstream and eventually kill you." He was watching her very carefully, staring at her with an open, hopeful expression. There was one thing she needed to know. "But wouldn't you want to? Drink my blood, I mean." He stroked her back in lazy circles. "It isn't necessary for me to drink your blood to enjoy lovemaking." "But you'd want to, wouldn't you?" "It's easier for me to resist if I'm well fed." He gave her a moment to digest all he'd told her. Then he said, "I love you, Kiana. I would never do anything to hurt you." She gazed into his emerald eyes recognizing the truth she saw in them. "This is going to be a complicated relationship, isn't it?" "Complicated, yes. But never boring." He gave her another of those scorching kisses. "Frazier's not going to like this," she said when they'd surfaced. Adrian laughed. "Oh no, Frazier won't like this at all. He'll probably have me arrested." He looked intently into her eyes. "Can I count on you to spring me, detective?" "Sure." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. "Are you sure your friends are going out?" The sound of a door closing downstairs answered her question. "I think we're about to have some privacy." "Do you think they'll mind?" "Val would have fits if he knew." Adrian laughed again. His tongue teased her lips as he kissed her again.

"I'm kind of liking that idea." She answered with a kiss of her own. He eased her down on the bed, making room for her among the scattered covers and blankets. His eyes searched her face, apparently waiting for her to object, to change her mind. But then she realized that above all, she was safe with him. He reached for the hem of her t-shirt and pulled the still damp material over her head. Nimble fingers found the button of her jeans. She kicked off her shoes as he eased the zipper down and pulled the denim over her hips. He cradled her against his much larger body and pulled the blanket up around them. She snuggled up against his nude body. He gifted her with a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose, then bent his head to tease her breasts, carefully avoiding her neck so as not to frighten her. She lifted her head to torment him in return and heard him suck in his breath. Gently, he laved one peak, then gave equal time to the other. She felt the brush of his fingers against her most sensitive spot. His strong hands circled her waist, lifting her until she straddled him. His erection pressed against her moist opening. With a sigh, she slid her body down his shaft until he filled her completely. She let her head fall back in pleasure as his hands roved over her breasts and her hips, stroking her to greater heights. The day's tension shattered. She cried out as the crest of her orgasm rushed over her. She glanced down to watch Adrian's eyes glaze over as he gained his own release. He moaned softly, then pulled her down on top of him. Shadows had gathered in the room while they'd made love. Night had arrived. Adrian's hands stroked her back. She felt strangely safe. "I should take you home," Adrian murmured. "I should call Frazier," she said startled that she'd forgotten again. Reality intruded, demanding her attention. Time to go back to her job and her life. With the addition of a vampire lover to her routine. That thought made her laugh. "What's so funny?" Adrian asked. "Nothing," she said, giving him another suggestive kiss. "Take me home."

The End