Chaos The Vampire Child

cover

Chaos The Vampire Child Bloodseeker 2

Lisa Rene Smith LPUBLISHERL Dreamspell www.lldreamspell.com Copyright ©2007 by Lisa Rene' Smith First published in 2007, 2007

Chaos the Vampire Child Book Two of the Blood Seeker Series By Lisa Rene’ Smith Published by L&L Dreamspell Spring, Texas Cover and Interior Design by L & L Dreamspell Copyright © 2007 Lisa Rene’ Smith All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except for brief quotations used in a review. This is a work of fiction, and is produced from the author's imagination. People, places and things mentioned in this novel are used in a fictional manner. ISBN: 9780978772383 Published by L & L Dreamspell Produced in the United States of America **** Visit us on the web at www.lldreamspell.com

One "Where is she?” Her shrill voice split the air. “Chaos!” Joanna yelled into the woods. “Chaos!" No answer. Panic. Her breath short, she ran in rapid bursts between the sparse evergreen trees, one way then another, sliding on the loose rock with her abrupt turns. "Oh no, oh, where is she?" The sunlight, though filtered by the trees, still managed to make its way down to her and exploded into painful darts on her skin. She could stand the pain no longer and dashed back inside the house, screaming for her mate as she ran. "Colin! Colin! She's gone. Colin!" Of course, Colin slept during the dreaded daylight. Joanna knew that. She should have slept too, but this terrible uneasy churning in her gut disturbed her sleep enough to rouse her. Chaos, where could she be? Her bed lay empty, the room unoccupied. Joanna already searched the house, inside and out, to no avail. The missing young one lived up to her name, creating chaos for everyone. Shaking his shoulder, she woke her husband and creator with as gentle a touch as she could under the circumstances. "Colin ... Colin. Wake up.” His eyes opened, the furious glow in them flaring then fading when he saw Joanna perched on top of him. "She's gone again?” He didn't even need to ask. Joanna nodded. Yawning, Colin stretched his hands high over his head and sat up, bringing his face even with Joanna's. He kissed her on the lips and taking her face in his hands, brushed his mouth on her forehead then whispered against her skin. "Try not to worry, Jo. You know that CJ can take care of herself better than you allow her to. She is most likely playing out of earshot again and did not hear you call." Scowling back at him, she fought the urge to shove her knees into his unprepared, soft belly. "Colin, you know she doesn't just play. She never has." "Yes, well, have you checked with the others?" Joanna looked away. His logical question gave her a jolt, as she hadn't thought to see if the others were in their rooms. How stupid. Before he could ask again she jumped off the bed, trotting down the carpeted hall to Ben's room. Why Colin insisted he be on the same floor with them still rankled her but at least his room sat at the opposite end of the hallway. She tried the knob but it didn't turn. What a relief. The last thing she wanted to see right now ... Ben in bed. Turning back, she returned to her daughter's room to look for some kind of clue, anything to help her locate the missing girl. She found the bed turned back, CJ's stuffed wolves all tossed on the floor. Crouching to pick them up Joanna saw a tuft of hair stuck in the carpet beside the bed. It didn't feel like synthetic fur and she lifted it to her nose. It smelled like wolf. Dropping the toys, she dashed down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time and ran across the den to Linnea's room. Empty! She couldn't decide though if this were a good thing or a bad thing. The Therian would never harm the child while in human form, but she had no clue how Linnea would respond as a wolf. "Joanna!” Colin's call echoed through the house and she bolted back up the stairs as fast as she had raced down them moments before. He stood over CJ's bed, his face a map of worry as he stared down at the sheet. Joanna moved closer to see what had

him so agitated and gasped... Blood! Their daughter's whimsical prairie-printed sheets gave them the proof they needed. Several drops of blood dotted the field of grasses with terrifying flowers of dark maroon. Chaos was indeed in trouble. Colin and Joanna stared down at the horrid vision, neither speaking, afraid for their child down to the marrow of their bones. Joanna reached out for Colin's hand, but didn't find it at his side so she glanced away from the bed up to his troubled face. He ran his hand through his already tousled dark curls again and again until he gathered a fistful of his own hair and just squeezed. His hand shook for a moment before he let it fall back to his side. Joanna grasped his hand, locking her fingers with his larger ones before he could pull out a chunk of the curls she loved so much. He tightened his grip on her fingers for a moment then released her to place his hands on her shoulders. "We will find her.” Just like Colin to try and reassure her. Meeting his gaze, she felt his heart constrict. He broadcast his thoughts and his feelings and she picked them up without even trying, feeling them like they were her own. He was thinking about the color of her eyes. Those enchanting eyes the deep green color of the forest almost brought him to his knees even after all these years of staring into them. She smiled up at him, loving his feelings for her, but sad at his worry. His thoughts of emerald pools about to spill over, so poignant, so loving, but she didn't want to cause him more pain. It hurt his soul to see the tears collected on the edge of her lashes so she wiped them away. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close against his bare chest, stroking her back and the length of her downy mane. "Let's go.” His soft black chest hairs moved with her breath. Joanna savored the warmth of his embrace a moment more before she pulled away. Leaving the cabin during daylight hours would be painful, but she must search for Chaos. This week, the dreaded week of the full moon ... nobody wanted to leave the cabin before sunset. "I'll wake Benjamin while you dress.” Colin patted her behind then moved toward Ben's room. Until he mentioned it, she'd forgotten that she stood in the hallway in nothing but one of his t-shirts and underwear. Of course Colin may not have noticed that he knocked at Ben's door scantily clad himself and Colin never left their bedroom without being dressed all the way down to his shoes. The door eased open, Ben's bleary eyes fighting to focus as he peered out at his creator. Seeing Colin he perked up, all bleariness gone. Something had to be wrong for Colin to stand before him clad only in his black silk boxers. "Chaos is missing. Will you help us search for her my trusted friend?” Colin paused searching for the proper words. “...Linnea is also not in her room." Ben's mouth dropped open, his mind reeling. "Of course, Creator. I'll get dressed." Colin bowed his head in thanks. He knew that Ben would be willing to make any sacrifice for his family, even braving the daylight. They stood in a close group at the door, hesitating even though all three wanted nothing more than to plunge into the search for Chaos. The sun blazed with inexhaustible power in the peak of this flawless autumn afternoon. Dangerous golden rays touched everything outside this door. Even with their sunglasses on and the curtain drawn, glaring brightness invaded their vision with blinding fury. "I've been out today and I'm still alive.” Joanna pulled up her sleeve to show the two men her skin. “Look, I'm just a little pink."

"You have both been taking your betony supplements, correct?” Colin's strained voice exposed his own anxiety but he held his head high, looking down his regal nose at his shorter companions. He did not really expect an answer but he knew that behind their mirrored glasses they both met his eyes. Reaching behind him, he took three caps off the hat rack, donned one and passed the others to Ben and Joanna. Then, with tentative motions, he opened the door. Colin had not entered the sunlight during the week of the full moon since his change over three hundred years ago. If Chaos were not in danger, he would not do so now despite the herbal treatments he and his neophytes consumed in mass quantities. It seemed to be working, reversing the vitiligo, the loss of skin pigmentation. Looking at the others, he realized they all appeared less sallow than usual for this time of the moon phase. Colin took a deep breath, held it ... then walked outside. His skin warmed beneath the layers of clothing, but it did not burn! Keeping his head down to shade his face, he turned to the others to let them know they could come out. Joanna stood right behind him and Ben had also braved the sunlight to stand at her side. Though it felt far from comfortable to be out during the day, they all knew that it was now possible. The ancient Lachlan had been right about the herbal treatments. "We should split up to search the surrounding woods.” Colin glanced from one beloved face to the other, feeling such pride and at the same time, worry. “Be careful, both of you. Avoid the sun as much as possible but be quick. We will meet back here in two hours." Joanna took off right away. Ben nodded to show Colin that he agreed, then he also headed for the woods. Ben's unkempt blonde hair hung down in his face. He made no attempt to move it, keeping his hands buried in his pockets. Colin watched him go, worried about his child by blood almost as much as his biological child, Chaos. Ben seemed distant, quiet, very unlike himself. He stayed away from the house for most of the night and sometimes even slept elsewhere without offering any explanation. Not that he would ask for one anyway, but still Ben had changed and no longer played the childish prankster as he did before Chaos arrived in their lives. Colin missed that side of his cherished neophyte. He missed seeing those sky blue eyes aglow with mischief, his soft baby face wrinkled with laughter. Now he had to stop thinking of Ben and find his missing daughter. If this were just another stunt he would discipline her to within an inch of her life! Although he missed Ben's misbehavior, he did not relish CJ's dangerous antics. She went too far. **** Joanna yelled “Chaos” over and over until her throat clenched in protest. Then she tried again with the child's nickname, “CJ,” thinking that if the girl chose to ignore her given name, maybe she would answer to CJ. Doubtful, but she would try anything. The only answers she received came from the irate crows cawing at her from the safety of the treetops. Her long sleeves irritated her arms and the heat from all this clothing and the insidious sunlight sapped her strength, but she kept looking and hoping that she'd be the one to find CJ. Colin would spank the child in a fit of anger and she no longer trusted Ben around her daughter. She caught him several times watching CJ, absorbed with every move the child made. When he realized she saw him, he would jump up and leave the room without saying a word. Joanna continued to climb the steep hillside, using the conifer saplings as supports so she wouldn't slip on the loose gravel and have to start over again. The Texas Hill Country could be very unforgiving to reckless hikers. That's just what she acted like as she continued to climb, her mind drifting miles away. **** Stumbling, Ben caught himself before he fell to the ground. Parties of cactus decorated the landscape and they sported lovely long thorns that he didn't want to have to pluck out of his already irritated skin. Ben chose a large boulder shaded by even larger boulders and sat down to rest for a moment. The skin on his face felt taut but heavy like it was about to slide right off his skull. Slipping one hand out of his pocket he touched his cheek, afraid of what he would feel there, but curious nonetheless. His skin felt foreign! Warm, slick, synthetic, but not like skin. He could only imagine what he looked like.

He should have stayed in the shade as Colin suggested, but this area happened to be one of CJ's favorite places. He knew this because he followed her here on numerous occasions ... unbeknownst to her ever-watchful parents. She loved climbing the boulders and exploring the small caves made by the fallen rocks. Ben loved watching her as much as she loved her secret explorations. With a burst of adrenaline, Ben's intuition kicked in and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. He leapt from his stone seat to search for the intruder. A low growl brought his attention to the top of the highest boulders. There in the blazing sunshine stood an enormous wolf, its fur standing up from the massive shoulders all the way back to the end of its narrow hips. Silvery lips drew back showing a mouthful of evil white teeth and long fang-like canines. The sun glinted off the creature's eyes, small round mirrors reflecting the soulless horror Ben felt deep inside. The urge to run grew stronger but he knew that running from this wild creature would be a mistake. Although it may not be fatal, it would be painful at least—and pain he wished to avoid. Without breaking eye contact with the wolf he backed away, slow sliding steps, until he bumped into one of the many large cacti that dotted the hills. Not in the least bit surprised, he gritted his teeth, sighed and twisted around to pull the cactus needles out of the back of his pants and the flesh of his calves. Glancing back up at the wolf, shock raced through his veins, icy knives puncturing his vital organs—nothing there! The great beast had disappeared. Why had he turned to pluck the spines from his legs with that animal in such close proximity? The sun must have baked his brain. With trepidation, he turned at a snail's pace to look behind him though he knew beforehand what would be there. Yes, there stood the enormous bristling wolf, teeth bared as it leapt for his throat. **** Joanna arrived back at the house and her hopefulness crumbled when she saw Colin standing there alone, running his fingers with delicate strokes, over his sunburned chin. Even though she couldn't sense her daughter's presence she'd hoped that he would find her. He shook his head when she walked up, answering her without words. "I found no sign of her either. It's like she vanished into thin air.” Joanna frowned, her brows furrowed and drawn together. “Did Ben return?" "I did not check the house. He may be inside.” Colin's stilted words sounded even stiffer than normal. He studied Joanna's reddened face. “Come along, we must treat our burned skin." Reaching for her hand, he pulled her with him to the door and opened if for her then stepped aside so she could enter. Joanna found the cool dark interior refreshing though she felt the loss of her child even more so in the empty house. Staring down at the stark white tile she longed to see small dusty footprints or leaves blown in by the door left standing open to the night air as her careless CJ so often did. "Ben has not returned.” Colin's muted voice broke into her thoughts. "I'm sure he's fine.” She didn't mean to sound so curt but Joanna didn't care if Ben returned unless he brought her child with him and she doubted that would happen. All she cared about at this moment was Chaos. Strong comforting arms surrounded her as Colin stood at her back, his chin resting on top of her head. She rubbed her cheek against his bulging bicep, loving the feel of the muscle beneath his shirt. The scent of his warm skin escaped his clothing and roused her appetite. How could she be hungry at a time like this? The vampire in her didn't care one bit. "Let's get you out of that shirt, Colin..." ****

Ben collapsed as the wolf's giant front paws hit him in the chest and the wide jaws covered his throat, teeth pressing against his neck on both sides, just enough to break the skin but not tear his throat out. He waited, his muscles clenched, ready to fight for his life but for unknown reasons, he chose to remain submissive to this massive creature. Just as quick as it had attacked, the wolf opened its great jaws and licked the blood from the bites on Ben's neck and his shoulder where the trickle of blood had settled. The wolf's coat tickled his nose and he inhaled, trying to understand the assault on his senses. The scent of the warm earth clung to the dark fur and something else, something surreal and a bit feminine compelled him to look closer at this creature. Golden eyes, shot with flecks of black met his as the wolf lifted its massive head and stared into his baffled face. "Linnea?” He whispered, hesitant to speak at all, afraid his voice would provoke the creature into attacking again. The growl started deep in the animal's chest, a cavernous baritone rumble that grew in volume as the lip curled to show glistening gray gums and long wicked teeth. The wolf's gaze never wavered, and the growl grew louder and louder still until the beast snapped its teeth in his face and with a scrabble of paws across his chest took off into the labyrinth of boulders. He was certain that the wolf, whether it be Linnea or not, had just told him to leave this area and under no circumstances was he to return. Ben had no problem with this demand. His roasted skin screamed for shade but that cherished luxury didn't exist here on this rocky hill. The few trees that managed to survive in the crevices might manage to grow to three feet tall and they afforded little shade with their twisted branches and stingy sprinkling of leaves. Ben hurried to get back down the boulder strewn knoll to the woods below and the soothing shade his body craved. Without the herbal treatments he wouldn't survive the sunlight during the week of the full moon. The week when their blood seeker hormones ran rampant through their bodies, leaching their skin of its pigmentation. The hormones drove them to kill humans for their blood, and made his kin the monsters that humankind professed them to be. He hated it. His footsteps slow and halting, he made his way back to the house that he shared with Colin, Joanna, CJ and Linnea. A strange group of blood seekers, very rare indeed that they chose to live under the same roof. It drove Ben out of his mind. The remarkable dark beauty Linnea, older than time itself and so unapproachable. He couldn't touch her, but she seemed to delight in touching him and driving him wild at every opportunity. Joanna, the lovely raven-haired vixen who belonged body and soul to Colin. Oh how often he caught those blistering green eyes fixed on him with disdain. His jealousy of her relationship with his Creator had turned their once jovial relationship sour. His attraction to her, it seemed, would never wane. Then there was the little agitator, CJ. He'd loved every bone in the impish little squirt's body since the day she arrived on this planet. Just like her father in appearance, black curly hair, sparkling semi-sweet chocolate eyes, high cheekbones and the straight regal nose that Ben loved to run his fingers down as he walked by her at the table. CJ was the only reason he still lived in Colin's house. Living in a household full of unattainable females and an overbearing Creator—sucked. When he reached the house, he listened for Colin and Joanna and heard them both inside. His jealousy flared. Together, as usual. He knew that they would break apart when he walked in because they tried not to flaunt their love in his face. He appreciated that, but couldn't help the resentment he felt. What were the odds that he would ever find a mate? The only females of his blood-seeker species lived right here in the house with him already! No wonder his situation sickened him. He loved every one of them and couldn't stand to be in the same room with them, but then again, he couldn't stand to be away

from them for very long either. It was enough to drive any hot-blooded vampire insane. Ben drew a deep breath and let it out as he adjusted his shoulders and stretched his neck, then he pushed open the door and entered the house. He saw the disappointment on their faces when he walked into the room alone and he choked with guilt because he stopped his search prematurely. Then he heard Joanna gasp and she hurried to his side with Colin following right behind her. "Ben, your face!” Joanna touched the taut skin on his cheek with a feather-light caress. “Does it hurt?" Her fingers felt cool against his hot skin, but at the same time her touch brought searing fire to his face and he pulled away. He couldn't bear to meet her gaze and see the caring there, caring for him! With slow and deliberate care, Colin reached to touch his shoulder, then his chin, as he examined the burned flesh on Ben's face. The wounded young one did not pull away from his Creator's touch as he had Joanna's. His entire blood seeker life he followed Colin's wishes and old habits died hard. "Benjamin.” Colin's soft voice caressed him as he tilted Ben's face to meet his eyes. “Allow Joanna to tend your burns." A shadow passed over Ben's boyish features, but he tried to hide his discomfort, his jealousy, his frustration, his feelings of total inadequacy ... all the ill feelings that he wished were not there. He would give anything to bring back the joy that once possessed his every waking moment. "Come along, Ben. Let's sit on the sofa. The ointment soothes the burns and will keep the scar monster away from your handsome face." Joanna took his hand and tugged, pulling him into the living room as she spoke to him as if he were her child. Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but he did as she bid and followed her without complaint, watching her long dark hair swing to and fro with the sway of her hips. Sitting on the overstuffed sofa, his back so stiff it looked like he had been impaled there, he waited for her to apply the ointment to his blistered skin. He looked anywhere but at her. She touched him, her fingers just grazing his skin, but her touch sent shockwaves all the way to his groin as she smeared the ointment all over his face. He could drown in her wake! The ointment did help with the tightness and the pain and her tender ministrations made him feel so very loved. "You are loved, you know.” She whispered in his ear before she eased her lithe body off the couch to stand before him. “Please try to trust the love we all have for you, Ben." Her melodious voice penetrated his soul, running unbridled through the ugliness and the soreness there. He smiled, looking into her eyes for the first time in a very long time. Yes, he could see it there, the unadulterated feelings she had for him. But that had never been a question. He knew they both cared for him, but it was just not the same as their love for each other. "I do. I do know, Jo, and thanks for the healing care. My face feels much better now.” He watched her and saw the devilish grin she tried to hide. No doubt, a wise crack had crossed her mind but she bit her tongue ... something she never would have done ten years ago. How he missed the smart remarks and silly sexual innuendos that passed back and forth between Joanna and himself. Such fun. But she had also changed after the baby arrived though she may never admit it. Chaos had changed them all. "By the way, you two don't need to worry about CJ. I'm certain that she's okay.” Ben watched Joanna's face change as the lines disappeared from her forehead and her mouth softened, the corners lifting just a bit. Colin appeared at her side, staring down at Ben with that piercing russet gaze until he became more and more uncomfortable looking back up at them both. What a pair they made! The power that emanated from them was almost a tangible energy like the reckless devastating force of a catastrophic hurricane held at bay by Ben's palms on a fragile glass wall. He could feel the terrible roar on his hands!

Colin cocked his head, looking down at him with his eyebrow raised and Ben dropped his hands back into his lap. He felt foolish when he realized he held them there like a barrier between him and the two other blood seekers. Like any power on earth could stop Colin should he decide to move against him. "Explain." One soft spoken word. A mere utterance from Colin had no less impact than shouting at the top of his immortal lungs. Ben fluttered his eyes, blinking at Colin as if the very sight of his countenance dazzled him. "Okay, yes, yes, I will.” Ben hesitated, ashamed of his apprehension when there really should be none. Looking around at the comfortable room, he motioned to the chairs facing him and glancing back at Colin he asked, “Please, Creator, will you sit down?” Joanna frowned at him and Ben motioned toward the chairs. "You too, Jo." Colin and Joanna looked at each other and back at him, then Colin nodded and moved to the leather chair closest to him beckoning for Joanna to sit next to him in the matching recliner. Ben waited for her to be seated, fidgeting with his sleeve, unbuttoning the cuff and rolling it up his arm to the elbow then doing the same to the other sleeve while his companions waited with waning patience for him to speak. Joanna broke first. “Ben! Please tell us what you know of our daughter." He ignored her but he did begin speaking. “I met with a wolf while I searched the hills west of here." Joanna gasped and sat forward. “Linnea?" "I don't know if the beast was Linnea or not, but it gave me a warning. Of this I am sure. The wolf was enormous and extremely powerful. It had me pinned by the throat before I could even prepare to defend myself!” He turned his head, baring his throat to show them the bite but the puncture wounds had already healed. "Anyway, like I said, it had my neck in its jaws and could easily have ripped my throat out, but it didn't. I think I spoke to the wolf, but I don't remember if I actually said Linnea's name out loud or if I just thought it but the wolf growled at me, staring into my eyes and then just as suddenly as it attacked me, it was gone.” Ben's voice grew louder with his conviction. “It warned me to stay away. I know it did." Colin looked doubtful but he said nothing. "I'm telling you, it warned me, warned us to stay away. Don't ask me how I know this, maybe the wolf put the thoughts into my head, but I am sure that CJ is there and the massive wolf is protecting her." Joanna spoke up. “But, Ben, why? Why is she not here in her home? Why is she safer out there with the wolf, be it Linnea or not?" "And why is there blood in her bed?” Colin added, his voice grave. "Blood?” Ben's blistered face blanched. "I don't care what the hell this wolf told you. To hell with everything, I plan to go search for my daughter, and find her.” Joanna rose from the chair but Colin grabbed her arm before she could leave the room. "Wait.” He paused and took her hand in his, stroking her palm. “If this wolf is Linnea then not even I can defeat her during the day, or even hope to outmaneuver her. Joanna you should know by now that my Creator is invincible. We..." "But why did she take CJ out of her own bed? Surely the blood means that she's injured! How can we know this wolf is even Linnea?"

Colin pushed her, with gentle pressure, back into her chair so he could see Ben's face before he spoke again. "I believe what Benjamin has told us, regardless of how very strange it sounds. Think about it please, little one. What else can we do at this point?” He watched Joanna's face but out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ben sitting up taller, holding his head a little higher—and smiling. "I think we should all just go back to bed and wait for nightfall. CJ will be safe with Linnea until I retrieve her, and with this added time Linnea will be easier to deal with. What do you think, Benjamin?” Colin turned his head to look into Ben's eyes. Ben's face flamed, but good for him that with the burned skin no one could see his loss of composure. He prayed that Colin couldn't read his nefarious mind and see the image that popped into his head when he mentioned that they all go back to bed. He didn't think that Colin would appreciate visions of the three of them all piled into the same bed, with Ben planted in the middle. His great creator flinched, but said nothing for a moment, watching Ben with curious apprehension. His gaze never leaving Ben's face, he licked his lips, his tongue moving over his top lip then the bottom one before he spoke. "We will just see what the night brings. I sincerely hope it is not death...” he paused, “...for anyone."

Two Nightfall. The nocturnal world comes alive as the sky darkens and the scurry of tiny night creatures beckons to the masters of twilight, those that anticipate their movements with deadly delight. Snout to the sky, she breathed in the scent of fading flowers and distant trees muted by the distinct, peaceful smell of the sun-baked earth as it cooled in the night air. Ah, the musky scent of a small rodent nearby ... Her ears stood tall and erect, turning from side to side as she listened for the scampering of delicate feet across the rocks. Her haunches quivered in excitement but before she took off in pursuit of her doomed quarry, she turned back toward the mouth of the cave. The girl lay sleeping, trapped in intense bottomless dreams—unable to awaken for some time. She hesitated no longer. In one great leap she left the ledge and landed with all four feet under her on the boulder far below, then vanished into the darkness as soon as those sturdy feet hit the ground. **** Immeasurable cold, so cold that the air entering her lungs cut through the tissue like so many icicle scalpels, dissecting her while she still lived and breathed. She pulled the rank furs closer to her body and shivered. Nothing could lessen this dreadful ceaseless cold. Frozen valley, frozen mountains, fields, and lakes, streams—everything covered with the torturous ice. Ice, darkness and death, all that remained in her world. Death visited in many forms, from the long fanged beasts, to the winged predators of the endless night and their constant threat— slow, agonizing starvation. The time had arrived to sleep the long sleep or die. **** Chaos turned but didn't wake, the dream possessing her so fully that goose bumps rose on her arms and she shivered with cold despite the warmth of the shallow cave. **** Buried beneath pelts stolen from the mammoth beasts that once roamed their land, she and her clan slept the deep sleep of winter. The frozen world had nothing to offer them and so they stretched out together, huddled for warmth, to wait for the end of the longest winter in their lifetimes. Most of the time she felt nothing, knew nothing, but there were times when her senses came alive and though her body remained comatose she departed that cataleptic vessel ... and she saw things. Vile things. Frightful things. Life stealing things that crept in and visited her in the dark. With horror, she watched the creature slink into her clan's cave. It stopped at the entrance, sniffing the air and folding its naked mammal-hide wings against its sparsely haired body. It crept across the floor, walking on tiny nubs at the base of each hideous wing and then its taloned feet, an awkward, unfamiliar gait for a creature at home in the air. One faltering step following the other, it moved closer to the clan's sleeping bodies. Despite its great size, the creature still approached with trepidation, stopping every few feet to look around the cave, straining to see in the darkness, bobbing its head as it sniffed the air. Its timidity likened to a tiny night creature fearing the dark and the predators in the darkness that lived to devour its kind. Hunger obviously drove this hunter of more passive prey to seek sustenance here in the den of a far more lethal predator than itself. The gauntness of its body revealed that desperation in every jutting bone and sunken muscle. Closer and closer the beast crept until it lowered its bulbous head and snuffled the closest slumbering human's head. She could do nothing to stop it, her body would not rouse and she could not enter her body to will it awake no matter how hard she tried. Trapped outside her body! No mouth to scream, helpless to stop this repulsive violation! A long ridged tongue slid over her skin, warm and wet and so coarse that it made tiny abrasions on the surface of her face, her chin, her throat. Razor-sharp teeth as thin as a single blade of grass carved a groove into the skin and tissue of her neck and the blood flowed. Out of the smooth lipless mouth its tongue shot out again and again, lapping up the blood and mixing in the saliva

from its tiny mouth to keep the blood flowing. From her exalted position she saw it all—even the contaminant from the beast's mouth as it mixed with her blood, vibrating and glowing like one of the long lost summer insects as it traveled through her veins. The molecules bounced off each other, then combined as the serum made its torturous journey to her brain, her heart, and throughout her body. As she watched the lumbering being amble back out of the cave, her vision faded and hibernation returned to mind as well as body. **** Chaos sat up, disoriented and rubbing her neck as she struggled to awaken. The visions grew in intensity every time they visited her. She couldn't remember ever being without these visions and knew that they had gone beyond simple dreams long ago. The visions came when she slept, when she daydreamed, when she let her mind drift and now even when she failed to concentrate hard enough on present-day happenings. She lived a double life, one in the past and one now. The two lives began to blend together and soon she would lose one all together! No one would even know it either. Chaos never told a soul about her life in the primeval past. Her parents would freak out if she told them. They still treated her like a little baby. She perked up, the thoughts all but flying into her face. Her parents! They had to be looking for her and she would be willing to bet her left eye that her Dad fumed with every breath he drew. She had to get back to the house. Squinting into the darkness, she saw no glowing eyes, nothing to indicate that her lupine guard remained with her now. Time to leave this cave and make her way back home. The low growl stopped her in her tracks at the mouth of the cave. "What?” Chaos snapped at the wolf. She tired of this game. Tapping her foot, she attempted to stare down Linnea, crossing her slender arms in front of her chest and glaring with as much maturity as she could muster. It proved difficult to do considering that the beast stood a head taller than she did. Linnea stared back, not blinking, never wavering and Chaos gave up. With a disgusted sigh she turned back to the cave. Her back ached and her guts didn't feel so great either. "I don't feel good." No response from the wolf. "I want to go home.” Her whine grew louder. Still no response from the wolf. "Dad will be really mad, ya know. He may even hurt you.” That got Linnea's attention! The giant animal turned her head in exaggerated slow motion and cocked it to one side, looking at her like it was the first time she had ever seen a twelve-year-old human. She continued to stare for a moment more, then her lips moved, rising over her glistening teeth and remaining like that. Chaos choked on her own saliva and backed away. Only when she noticed the dancing black flecks in Linnea's feral golden eyes did she realize what the show of teeth meant. Her voice squeaked when she could manage to get a sound out of her clenched throat. "Are you laughing at me?" No change in the lupine expression. "You are! You're laughing. Linnea! Stop it.” The silly teeth shining, lips drawn back on a puppy-dog face seemed even funnier, and Chaos laughed too. But her laughter died when she felt the warm wetness on the inside of her leg. Blood! She fell to the floor of the cave overcome by the intensity of the memory as it swallowed her whole. ****

Blood everywhere. Blood on her hands. Blood on her animal-skin clothes. Blood dripping from her face. Blood, blood and more blood. Her clan member lay dead beneath her, his throat torn open, eyes closed and hollow in death. How could she do this? She did not want to kill him. She only meant to wake him with a drink from her life-restoring fount and instead she had siphoned the life from his once robust form. Now, there would be no bringing him back. He would not awaken from the deep sleep, not with the breath from her body, not with the drink from her veins. Nothing would awaken him ever again. She howled, anguish and guilt pouring forth in audible form. The terrible sound echoed off the walls of the den, coming back at her and bouncing off the two cowering males as they ducked their heads to try and escape it. **** "I killed him! I killed him!” On all fours, her back arched, Chaos heaved and heaved. So much blood in her mind, on her hands, on the floor of the cave. A wet nose touched her face, pushing at her with gentle, persistent strength and she lifted her head to look into the eyes of the beautiful sable wolf. "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to kill him." Head down, eyes squeezed shut, Chaos ignored the raspy tongue as it slid across her ear. The cave floor hurt her knees, hurt her rear-end, hurt any body part that rested on it. What she wouldn't give to be a normal twelve-year old. But no, she didn't have a normal bone in her body. Who else had a very powerful Therian as a companion? As a sentry? Who else had mighty blood seeker parents and yet another, oh so hot, blood seeker living with them? What other kid seemed to possess the memory of a cavewoman? Did anyone else enter this world remembering another alien time and place? Too confusing. She didn't want to think about it any more. She wanted to go home. Having no idea why Linnea kept her here didn't help either. "Chaos.” Her father's voice! A whisper in her mind, but she heard it all the same. "I'm here! I'm here!” Clumsy paws knocked her to the ground, blasting all the air out of her lungs as her stomach hit the rock floor with a dull thud. One huge lupine foot holding down her head and the other on her back, Chaos mumbled into the dusty floor trying in vain to call out to her father once more. "Let her up, Linnea.” The soft voice echoed from the entrance of the cave, deadly, terrifying, not one accustomed to being ignored, not now, not ever. The weight left her back and Chaos jumped up to run to her father. Throwing her arms around his waist she clung to him, loving the obvious strength in his long arms as they wrapped around her and lifted her off her feet. "Are you well, CJ?” He hesitated, cocking his head for a moment. “You are bleeding.” Holding her out in front of his body, her arms and legs dangling like a dispirited marionette, he examined her with his burning, all-seeing gaze. "Dead cells.” His whisper cut through her though he had not meant to hurt her. Colin set her down with care and bent to her level. She wouldn't look at him. So embarrassed that she wanted to run from his tender ministrations, her body jerked in his grasp. He didn't let go. Instead, he moved one hand to her face and with his fingers on her quivering chin, he turned her face to his. "It is all right, Chaos. Everything will be fine. This is perfectly natural for a girl your age." "It is a disaster, Colin, and you well know it.” Linnea walked up behind Chaos, in human form, naked as the day she was born. Of course she would have no clothing if she had just left the form of the wolf. This was something she never did. Not just being naked and inappropriate around his daughter, but shape shifting this often would drain her power, make her weak and Colin knew she hated being feeble. "I had to do it. I must speak and I could not in my other form. You cannot bring her back to the house with you. She must be hidden from all the others. She is fertile, Colin!” His look showed his disagreement without him saying a word to reinforce it. He could not look more forbidding with his eyebrows drawn together, his mouth in a tense, straight line and his belligerent stare

making her sick to her stomach. The rodent she ate earlier broiled in her intestines. Her weakness maddened her. How dare he look at her like that! He sure wouldn't be doing so if she had her full strength. "Colin, as my child, I command you to leave CJ.” She stopped to catch her breath and continued, “...with me." Gathering CJ to him, he enfolded her in his arms once more then spoke over her head to the furious Linnea. "You are hardly in any position to demand anything of me, Creator.” He softened his words with a slight smile. "Plus, our laws mean nothing in this instance. Chaos is our daughter and Joanna and I are the only ones that have any control over her destiny." "You don't..." "I do know the dangers we face.” He stroked CJ's tangled hair, love shining in his eyes. “We will face these dangers together." "You are making a mistake, Colin, a tragic, lethal mistake. You should have stayed away." Grinding his teeth, he glared at her and though he tried to control his anger, his tone screamed his violent intent. “This is my daughter. I will protect her. I will care for her. I will kill for her and no one, I repeat, no one will take her away from me.” He turned on his heel, pulling CJ with him to the ledge. He stopped for a moment and turned back to Linnea, hesitating, and then a sigh reached her with the gentle breeze. “Do not make me fight you over this—please." Gathering his daughter into his protective embrace, he leapt from the ledge to land with solid footing on the rocks below. Chaos could not make that jump alone. Linnea picked her prison wisely. She just did not pick one far enough away to keep a father from his child. He eased CJ down to the ground and smiled down at her cherished face. No matter what anyone said, he thought she looked like her mother, except for the dark eyes. "Dad?" "Yes?" "Will Linnea be okay up there alone?” She watched the ledge, waiting to see if her sentry would come down. Linnea did look so tired. He turned his head also but only glanced back at the cave where his Creator had held his young daughter captive, in her mind, for her own good. Rage exploded inside his chest. She had so little faith in him and that in itself fueled his fury enough that he would not go back to see that Linnea made it down safely. "Do not worry about her.” His words came out harsh, more so than he intended. He wanted to bite his tongue when he saw the flash of pain in CJ's expression that she tried to hide from him. "I did not mean to snap at you, Munchkin. We have been very worried about you because Linnea took it upon herself to remove you from your home. We cannot allow anyone to take you from us. You must be very watchful, do you understand, little one?" Chaos hid something from him. He saw it in her eyes, a slight shadow that passed through those dark chocolate windows to her troubled soul. He wanted so to read her thoughts ... try to figure her out for himself, but even as an infant his daughter's mind steeled itself from any psychic invasion. His daughter, an enigma that could not be solved. "What is it, what is wrong, CJ?” Though he already knew what her answer would be, the same one she gave every time he asked, the same single answer of nothing. But still, he asked.

Head back so that she could meet his eyes, CJ seemed to concentrate on forming her answer and Colin met her gaze, waiting with great interest for her words. Her lips parted, speech on the tip of her tongue, but then she changed her mind. Colin noted the change in her entire body, her shoulders slumped, her face sagged just a little and she muttered, “nothing." He wanted to shake her! Why could she not speak to her own father who loved her more than life, more than a clear cloudless night, more than even warm blood? "Why will you not tell me what is wrong with you? You know that I love you, do you not?” He put his powerful hands on her shoulders, a firm but not harsh grip, and gave her a tiny shake. “Why Chaos? Why do you choose not to speak to me? I want to understand, truly, I do!" He pleaded in vain. In typical teenage fashion, her eyes glazed over with his first sentence. Mesmerism did not even work on his child. Colin felt shame, deep shame that he would even consider that, but he had, and more than once. Chaos shattered his sense of control without even trying to. "Dad.” Her small utterance shot a lance through his heart. This feeling of helplessness, how he hated it! How odd that he lived hundreds of years with superior strength and absolute control and along came one small woman and an even smaller girl child and now he had no control, just no control. Instead, the two females in his life manipulated him! "Dad?” Her fragile voice grew a little louder. "I am sorry, what is it, CJ?" "You're hurting my shoulders.” He jerked his hands away like her shoulders had turned to fiery ingots. "I am sorry, Munchkin. I did not realize..." "It's okay, Dad, really. We've all been a little stressed today. Can we please just go home? I wanna take a bath." "A little stressed huh?” Colin laughed. “Such sophisticated words for a little one." "I am twelve you know.” Chaos stood with her feet apart, hands on her hips, indignation in every cell. The fact that her father, a tower of infinite power stood before her laughing only made her hold her head a little higher, the tilt to her chin a little more severe, a little more haughty. Life with such omniscient parents had never been easy and she had this ominous feeling that it was about to become even more difficult. "Come along then, young lady." Colin bowed to his little girl and waved his arm in the direction of the house. Still grinning, he followed behind her when she started walking, chin held high, queen of all she surveyed. Near to the cabin Colin tensed when he felt the presence of another. Pulling Chaos into his protective arms, he sought out the presence and sensed Joanna approaching with anxious speed, through the meager forest. She burst through the trees and swept Chaos off her feet and into her loving embrace, hugging the child so close that Colin heard CJ catch her breath. Colin started to tell his wife about the blood before she could say something to embarrass CJ but too late, she noticed it for herself. Her nostrils flared and she released the girl, sliding her to the ground. Joanna saw the blood on CJ's legs, some dried and also a dribble of fresh blood there, but not real fresh blood, no, dead blood. Taking CJ's face into both hands, she smiled, lifting one corner of her mouth. “And so my dear child you are a woman." Dropping her hands from CJ's face Joanna looked at Colin over the child's head, her smile vanishing as the implications of this change sunk in. The concern that Colin had been hiding blazed on his face also, and in unison they moved at a brisk pace toward the house, carrying CJ between them like they did in her younger years. This time she had the good sense not to complain.

With CJ safe in the bathtub, Colin and Joanna sat together in the den staring at each other, the walls, the floor, anything ... nothing. "She's fertile.” Joanna sighed and went on. “This can't be good." Colin nodded his agreement, running his fingers through his hair then dropping his hand to his side, only to lift his arm and run his fingers through his already disheveled curls again. Joanna watched him, loving the movement of his long fingers, loving the way one unruly curl stuck straight out on the side of his head, loving the man for everything he did and said and even thought. She even loved his masculine scent topped with the lingering blood on his breath. Good that he found quarry before he found Chaos. Joanna knew he would not feed in front of his daughter. "What are we gonna do? Colin, the others, they'll be coming, won't they? They'll come for her! Shit, this is bad, really bad." "Calm yourself, Jo. We will keep her safe, one way or another. We are powerful, just the two of us and we also have the help of Linnea and Benjamin.” He glanced upstairs realizing that Ben did not appear to be home, but this had become his normal behavior. He left at nightfall and remained gone for hours most nights. Even during the weeks of ease, when the sunlight did not turn his delicate skin to burned agony. When they did not need to seek blood sustenance outside their well stocked refrigerator, Ben still left the house with no explanation about his destinations. Joanna could see the thoughts spinning around his head and when he mentioned Ben, she couldn't help but cringe. Good that Colin looked at the stairs instead of at her. The thought never crossed his mind that Ben would also be a danger to their daughter. Colin would never even imagine that Ben could betray him, that he had desires for Chaos even if Ben himself didn't realize it. Joanna did. Colin thought of him as his child and therefore, CJ and Ben, in his eyes, were siblings. Acrid bile crept up her throat at the thought of any male's hands on her young daughter. With absolute horror Joanna realized that Linnea must also know about Ben's latent desires. Oh no! How would this affect him? That frustrated neophyte who no longer acted like a child, who possessed strength far in excess of her own? Ben loved Chaos, yes, indeed he loved her with all his heart, but it seemed that in this case it might very well be the catalyst that drove him to go beyond his normal boundaries. She had to stop thinking like this. Stop. Stop. Stop! "Colin, aren't you worried that Benjamin may want CJ for himself?" ARGH! Her traitorous tongue! How could she allow that thought to leave her mouth? She wanted to rip out her tattletale tongue and stomp on it until it could never betray her again. For once, Colin forgot to plaster that emotionless mask on his face and Joanna watched his expressions change from disbelief with eyes rounded, eyebrows practically up to his hairline, to annoyance, with nostrils flared and brows wrinkled, and then finally to revulsion as the realization hit him that Joanna just might be right. Colin's visage imploded, his pinched cheeks and sucked in mouth almost comical. Knowing the real reason for his odd expression, Joanna found nothing funny about it. "Chaos, complete and utter chaos, that is what we are facing.” His words hung between them like an ominous black cloud. "You know Colin, you keep saying that...” Joanna smiled, trying to ease his tension, then her mouth dropped open. "Oh man, I forgot, I have to run into town.” She jumped to her feet, her knees setting the chair into spastic motion, and almost ran from the room. Colin followed, puzzled by her abrupt departure. Grabbing Joanna by her swinging mane of hair, he managed to rein her in before she dashed out the door. "What are you doing? Do not even think of running off with no explanation, my dear.” He towered over her, trying to stare her down. His nerves already on edge, he did not want to worry about her being out alone also. The firm set to her jaw, however, did not give him much hope of getting an answer out of her. "Why must you always talk like that?” Joanna stared back at him, her entire body screaming defiance. "What are you doing? Do not even think.” She mocked him, holding her head regally, like she owned the world.

"You're not a lord, you know." "Oh but I am.” Soft irrevocable words, a laser searing into her soul. Blazing chocolate eyes bored into her and she could swear that his gaze had scorched the flesh right off her face. At that moment, she felt as defenseless and frightened as she had thirteen years ago, a mortal girl trying to escape the clutches of her vampire captor. Any words she tried to form withered and died before their first conception. His hands, those powerful bands of pure raw energy, clasped her upper arms and she felt the slight tremors there that defied his calm quiet words. His lips parted as he prepared to speak and his fangs—his fangs descended! Her heart slammed against her ribs, a caged wild animal desperate to escape, then she could swear that it stopped beating all together when next he spoke. "You are my wife, my mate, the mother of my child.” He paused, tilting his head just a bit. “And I take quite a lot from you that of course I would never allow from any other being on this planet. However..." Joanna squirmed as his grip tightened on her biceps. "However, I will not permit you to ridicule me and this is something that you are already aware of so it should come as no shock to you.” He gave her a tiny shake as he ground his jaws together, his fang teeth touching his bottom lip and bringing up minute droplets of shimmering blood. "Furthermore, if not for our daughter being in imminent danger, I would drag you out into the forest and give you the punishment that you deserve." He licked the blood from his lip and waited for her full reaction before continuing. His speech had just the effect he sought. Joanna, the fearless, had disappeared. "We are both stressed and worried about CJ. I realize this and forgive you for your abrupt tone and disrespect. Please do not repeat this annoying behavior or I will fulfill your wishes to receive punishment and I will do it with absolute glee.” Colin released her arms and lifted his hand to touch her face, one finger stroking her cheek. "Do we understand each other, little one?” Afraid to speak, but also afraid to stand mute, she didn't know what to do, so she just nodded. "Now, where do you need to go and for what reason?” He seemed sincere and Joanna hoped that the reprimand would not begin all over again. Ferocity suited Colin as her creator, but it was not something she wished to witness again because of her actions. She cleared her throat, sure that she would sound like a sick bullfrog when she spoke. "I'm sorry that I mocked you Colin.” Wonderful that her speech sounded normal, despite her clenched throat that must be the size of a soda straw inside. “I need to run to the closest drug store. Chaos will need—supplies. These are supplies that I have not needed myself since before I got pregnant." It took him a moment before he realized what she meant, and then he grimaced, uncomfortable with the subject matter. "You know that I do not like you going to town alone." "Colin, I did so already this evening while you were out rescuing our daughter. Plus, this is not something that can be put off. CJ will need her products when she gets out of the tub. Just tell her to use toilet paper until I get back.” He did not look convinced. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here with her and you go to town for feminine napkins and tampons? You know we can't leave her here alone right now." He opened the door for her and led her out to the edge of their clearing, holding her hand in his. He didn't want to let go. Pulling her with elegant care, into his embrace, he held her close to his chest, loving the fruity smell of her luscious hair and the feel of her dainty body in his arms. "Please be very careful Jo. Visit the drugstore as quickly as possible and come straight home. If you find trouble despite your

caution, call to me and I will hear." A slight noise, a dull sound neither of them could categorize, distracted them. It seemed to come from the other side of the house. They stared at one another, and for a brief moment the shock kept them there, staring with mouths agape. They should not have left Chaos alone even for one moment! Muscles tensed, minds racing, Colin and Joanna burst into motion and sped back into the house. Joanna screamed when they reached the den, her terrified voice slicing through the vaulted rooms. Colin sucked in his breath, swallowing his heart. The sight he beheld stole his voice away as surely as it would steal his soul if his most dreaded fear had come true. Both parents seemed frozen in place, their feet refusing to move, their thoughts too terrible to contemplate. There stood Benjamin, fangs shining, his face a grotesque mask of horror and in his arms, the limp body of their daughter.

Three Three beings of infinite power faced each other, motionless, not a breath taken, not an eye blinked. No one dared take the first step for fear that it may be their last. The tension in the air made the small hairs on their arms stand straight out, a tangible electrical charge, a lightning strike about to happen. It seemed that if any one of them so much as moved a muscle it would be the catalyst needed to attract the deadly jagged bolt of certain excruciating death. Colin glared at his blonde companion of so many years, trying to control his impulse to kill the young one without asking questions. He found that he could not think straight, could not function, seeing his child so lifeless in this being's arms. This being that he had loved long before his daughter entered the world, and would perhaps continue to love even as he drained the life from his limbs. He moved his tongue between his incisors, feeling the slickness of the long teeth and the fierce point on the ends that cut his flesh with a glancing touch. He would sink these fatal daggers into the resilient flesh of Ben's supple body, over and over again until he lived no more. Joanna felt the tears come, but she choked them back. Of course Ben didn't kill CJ—no. How could he? He loved CJ. She doubted what she saw with her own eyes, however Joanna would kill this young one if he injured her offspring, of that she had no doubt whatsoever. Seconds stretched into years as she held her breath, afraid to look at CJ and afraid not to. She stared instead at Ben's hands, capable hands bent around her daughter, holding her tight ... a protective grip, it seemed. His fingers looped under CJ's knee, the strain on him to hold her tight and secure but with tender care had turned his fingertips white, his nails catching the light from the nearby lamp like they were made of crystal. In her state of shock, she could become mesmerized by the reflections of light but she moved her steady gaze to his face. Abject terror! Blanched face, eyes dark ... no longer blue like the skies but dark instead like the turbulent sea. Ben stared back at them with those stormy eyes wide with fright, his heart thundering in his chest as he faced the two most formidable creatures he would ever face in his life. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak, but no sounds issued forth, nothing more than a slight moan from deep in his throat that he gagged on. It appeared that Colin would pounce on him at any moment and still he said nothing to defend himself and made no move to release the child. Colin took a step toward Ben, his hands poised to attack, but stopped, his growl stuck in his chest when Chaos moved her arm. Her little fingers wiggled at the end of her dangling arm, then she cracked open her eyes. Ben saw the change in Colin, and with blind trust, looked away from the two vampires who wanted to kill him and watched CJ as she gained consciousness. Her face lit up when she focused on Ben's features and the corners of her mouth lifted with a tiny smile. Her smile faded as she glanced down at herself, wrapped in a towel, held in Ben's arms. Ben almost laughed when he noticed the red flush creeping up her neck and washing over her face but he didn't. Instead he smiled back down at her without parting his lips, and hugged her to his chest then slid her down to the floor, making sure that her towel didn't fall off in the process. Poor thing already suffered enough embarrassment. Relief flooded over Colin and he dropped his hands back down to his sides and releasing his pent up breath in one long sigh. To be honest with himself, he had no clue what gave him the most relief, his daughter alive and well or the fact that he did not have to destroy Benjamin after all. "CJ, what happened?” Joanna knelt in front of her daughter, her hands on the child's bare shoulders. CJ looked back at her, a blank expression plastered on her face and for a moment she looked so much like her father that it shocked Joanna. Her straight, noble little nose an exact miniature of Colin's nose, and her eyes, not only shaped like Colin's but also the same deep chocolate color with that long fringe of black lashes that would put a supermodel to shame. "Cat got your tongue?” She touched CJ's chin with her thumb and forefinger and smiled, trying to get CJ to open up and talk to her. The only answer she received, if she could even consider it an answer—a slight lifting of the girl's thin shoulders. "Benjamin.” Colin's word tore through the heavy silence like the warning siren screeching before an invisible, yet lethal twister. His mouth fell open when his small daughter moved to stand between him and Ben, her arms crossed in front of her heaving, defiant chest.

"What are...?" "I found her, Creator, lying on the floor in the bathroom.” Ben interrupted Colin, hoping to stave off his irritation with CJ. Neither one of them had done anything wrong, plus he had more experience with being the reason for Colin's annoyance. “She had blood on her hand." Colin's visage grew darker and his scowl deepened. Chaos exploded and startled them all, throwing her hands wide then pointing at her mouth. "It's cause I cut my finger on these!” She pulled her lip up to expose the tiny fangs, then closed her mouth, holding her lips together. She glared back up at her father with a scowl to equal his own. "It's the last thing I remember. I found my fang teeth, cut my finger and I guess I passed out. Give me a break would you? I've had a couple of major big firsts this night.” CJ had raised her pitch an octave in her excitement and all three of the adults winced, but not one of them said a word in complaint. "It happened anyway.” Joanna mumbled more to herself than to anyone else, but of course they heard. Colin ran his fingers through his hair, making a bigger mess of his unruly curls. “Yes, obviously the onset of puberty also kicked in her pineal gland and the production of Lamiartis." "So, she is one of us now.” Ben met Colin's worried look, then shifted his gaze to Joanna then back again to Colin. "I am right here you know!” Annoyance dripped from every spouted word. “Stop talking over my head like I'm still a baby.” She paused, looking up at her parents with pride, her little hands planted on her hipbones, bony elbows jutting out to the sides. "I am a vampire now." Ben laughed before he could stop himself, a bit of his old boyish humor returning for a moment. The little rascal stood there with her slender chest poked out, her head held high, just like her mother had posed when Colin captured her and brought her to their cabin in the Big Thicket. The fun he had at Joanna's expense! Those times he would never forget. CJ, standing there now looked just like Joanna did the time she tried to escape via the chimney then ran to sit on the couch so that he and Colin would not know she did it. She sat there, all prim and proper, covered with soot. She had no clue that she had the black grime all over her face and arms. Priceless! Hilarious when he walked in to see Colin seated in the chair facing her, his own features blank as she tried to act so self-assured and innocent. Looking at Colin now, his expression, just like then, could not be read. At least his anger had left him. It dawned on him that CJ switched everyone's attention to herself even though Ben had tried to keep them occupied with his own erroneous behavior. The little vixen! Thanks to her distraction, he wouldn't have to explain his descended fangs when they burst into the room to discover him with CJ in his arms. Neither Colin nor Joanna ever needed to know that he licked the blood off CJ's fingers and nearly swooned himself. Her blood—the purest elixir ever tasted—he wanted more, much, much more. "Chaos Janelle, you are not a vampire.” Joanna's tone did not leave an opening for discussion but CJ chose to ignore the tone and argue anyway. "Well then how do you explain these?” She pointed to her mouth. Opening her mouth wide she meant to show them her pointed canines again, but they were no longer there! "Uh ... Uh.” Reaching with her fingers she felt her teeth, trying to find the sharp tips. Frustration eating at her, she raised her head to look at the group of real vampires that surrounded her. Ben and her parents all had the same patronizing looks on their faces. Tiny smiles, indulgent gazes. She hated it. She hated being treated like a helpless

child all the time, protected, no—coddled. If only they knew that she, Chaos, carried the first thirst within her. She wanted to tell her parents, but something made her keep it a secret a little while longer. She would not tell them the true reason for her earlier unconscious state. She would not tell them of her overwhelming memories, or that she had lived before and that she would be the most powerful of her kind once again. They wouldn't believe her anyway. Without another word, Chaos turned and stomped out of the room. "Well...” Joanna's voice trailed off. She really had nothing to say. It appeared that no one knew what to say or do, for that matter. "I'll go after her." "No, Colin, I think we should just leave her alone.” Joanna took his hands into hers, amazed once again at the awesome restrained power in his grasp. It seemed she would never grow blasé about this man. Stroking the dark hairs on the back of his hand with her thumb, she gasped. Thirst ate at her gut and with delicate movements she turned his hand over to expose his wrist. Her heartbeat quickened, saliva flowed and she felt the fang teeth slip into place, but no, she wanted more than he could give right now. Joanna dropped his wrist and turned away. Colin slipped his arms around her shoulders before she had a chance to move far. “Go ahead, you may take what you need.” He whispered in her ear, the warm succulence of his breath sending shivers down her back. Pressing herself against his broad chest, she draped her arm around his neck and stretched up to kiss his throat. "Ah, you. I don't need anything, but I do want you.” She sighed and kissed his chin. “You know I've got to go now—into town for CJ's supplies." "That is most unfortunate.” His speech tickled her with a soft rumble against her back. Joanna laughed under her breath. “Yes, it is most unfortunate, isn't it?” She kissed his throat again, nipping his skin but not enough to draw blood, and pulled out of his grasp. “You would think that we'd tire of each other, but I swear Colin, I find you more appealing every day.” She turned to him, a playful smirk on her lips. “Even when you're acting like Mr. Cranky Pants.” Darting away, she avoided the slap on her backside that she knew would be forthcoming. "Mr. What?” He called after her as she fled the room. He started to give chase, but changed his mind. If he went after her now, she would never get out of the house. Instead he turned to speak to Ben. He still wanted a better explanation for the scene he witnessed earlier. Of course, Ben had left the room during the exchange with Joanna. Damn, he should not have acted thus in front of Ben. He would apologize not only for doubting Ben earlier to the point of moving to destroy him, but also for the show of affection with Joanna displayed right in his face. **** Just outside of her closed door, Ben stood listening to the muffled sounds CJ made as she moved about her room. Several soft thuds as her stuffed animals hit the wall confirmed her smoldering anger and he wanted to go to her, comfort her, listen to her woes and tell her everything would be just fine. But, he didn't trust himself alone with her. The shameful attraction he felt made him queasy to the point of gagging but it was such a powerful draw that he couldn't control it. His hand moved on it's own volition to the doorknob. He watched it with horror, alien fingers, long, thin bones moving under the grotesque skin on the back of his hand. The doorknob shot from his hand like an arrow fleeing a taut longbow. Surprised, he jumped back, his mouth open, blinded with shock for a moment. Small fingers grasped his hand and CJ jerked him into her room, slamming the door behind him. Her strength astonished him more than her violent wrenching of the door and he felt his heart skip and flutter. Was it surprise that caused the palpitations, or was it something more, something far more loathsome? He didn't want to think about it—he wouldn't think about it. All other thoughts aside, this petite being possessed a blood seeker's vigor. She reached for his hand again, slow this time and wrapped her fingers around his as she craned her neck back so she could meet his eyes. CJ wanted something, that much he could tell but he had no idea what it could be. He wanted to kneel down so he could

be at her level but he hesitated, not knowing if he would hurt her already wounded pride. Ben glanced over at the small armchair she had pushed against the wall under her long window. CJ saw him looking, dropped his hand and darted to the chair, throwing her favorite stuffed wolves to the floor without her usual obsessive concern for their wellbeing. Without turning back to look at him, she spoke, her voice soft and fragile, like her age. “Please, do sit down." When he didn't move—couldn't move, she turned, imploring him with such raw need in her eyes that he had to gulp and swallow several times to keep his own emotions in check. Common sense told him to get out of her room with blood seeker speed but his heart remained tethered to her gaze. He would not sit in that chair and bring about disastrous consequences, no he would not. Even as these thoughts entered his mind, his disloyal body revolted against his mind and moved to the chair. Ben sat down with exaggerated concern, the chair a bed of rusty nails instead of comfortable collage of chubby cushions. CJ stood before him, looking down at his knees as they bobbed up and down and he stopped his anxious motion and forced himself to appear calm. He couldn't understand his sudden unease in her presence and it maddened him! Why did being in this child's room make him feel like a panicky bridegroom at a shotgun wedding? He could not bear to look at her tender face so filled with indescribable yearning. But, he forced himself to raise his eyes to meet hers. Liquid chocolate, luscious hot cocoa, her molten gaze bored into his soul and shredded his composure. "What is it that you need, CJ? I'll give it to you. Anything.” He paused to wet his lips with his tongue then right away wiped them dry on his sleeve. “Just please, don't look at me like that. It breaks my heart. What can I do to make you happy once more?” My heart on a platter? Sure thing. Lifting his hand, he touched her cheek and tried to convey his affection for her through his simple delicate stroke. She put her chilly hand over his and held his hand there against her face, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth for a moment. Then in one swift, unexpected, savage movement she turned her head and sank her teeth into the heel of his hand. Ben gasped in shock but fought the instinct to pull away, letting her assuage this newborn thirst without complaint. With ravenous fury, her mouth worked at the wound but she didn't get much blood from his hand. Removing her tiny fangs she slid her mouth to his wrist, hesitating with her lips against his skin and the powerful pulse beating just beneath the surface. Very young yet mature eyes met his, the unspoken question plain on her contorted face. He should tell her no, should tell her that her parents wouldn't like this, should tell her that her mother would rip his head off seconds before her father beat him to a pulp for this. He should tell her that this act, while she may consider it innocent, was forbidden. He should rip his arm from her infant grasp and run as fast as his legs would carry him. But he said nothing and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes With a tiny nod of his head he gave her permission to drink from his vein. With no further hesitation, she sank her teeth into his wrist, hitting the vein with the first stab and gulping down his warm, rich blood. Her low moans echoed between them as she drank more and more, swallowing like one who found an oasis in the desert. Ben grew lightheaded and tried to ease his wrist out of her grasp. She didn't want to release him. She didn't want the ecstasy to end. He knew this but he couldn't lose much more blood to her or Colin would notice his pallor. Danger! "That's enough.” His whispered words fell on deaf ears. He pushed against her head trying to ease her away from his wrist without harming her. She ignored him and continued to draw the life from his veins. "Chaos, stop.” The use of her name jolted her from the bloodspell. Gasping, she dropped his arm and stumbled backwards, falling in a small awkward heap on the bed. The soft rap on the door startled them both. Chaos shot off the bed like it had electrocuted her and ran into Ben, who also left his chair to stand in the middle of the toy strewn floor. "CJ?” Colin's voice! Ben and CJ stared at each other, eyes wide—guilty faces.

"CJ, are you well?" Any moment he would open the door and find them standing there together and Ben would die. He couldn't think of anything to do. He just stood there holding CJ's shoulders with shameful fear. Chaos pushed him away, hard enough to send him sprawling back into the chair that he just sprang from, then tossed several of her stuffed animals into his lap and turned to walk to the door. "Coming Dad.” She spoke with such a calm voice that Ben again felt his mouth fall open. Stopping at the door, she checked the mirror to see if any blood remained on her face then reached on top of the dresser for a stick of gum, popping it in her mouth before she opened the door. "Is everything all right with you?'” Colin did not enter, but his gaze raked the room and stopped on Benjamin seated in his daughter's chair, his lap full of toys. His eyebrows shot up and he appeared to be, at least for the moment, more puzzled than anything. "I'm talking to Ben." Ben couldn't believe his ears. CJ said that like it was the most normal thing in the world for her to have him in her room. "He heard me throwing my stuff around in a fit of anger—a tantrum, and he came to see if he could help.” She spun on her heel to look at Ben and smiled. “And he did help. Thanks Ben. Sorry that I threw my wolfies at you." This child not only proved herself to be a formidable newborn blood seeker, but one heck of an actress as well. Ben couldn't believe that he would be able to walk from the room with all his bones intact but it appeared that Colin believed just about anything CJ told him. With vivid images of her stuffed animals flying through the air planted in his mind, Ben rose from the chair and turned around to place the wolves back in their places. As quick as possible he left the room, not even looking up at Colin as he squeezed out the door. Ben didn't draw a single breath until he made it to his own room and closed the door behind him. Then, his knees buckled and he slid down the wood panels to sit there on the floor, too weak with relief to move. What had just happened? No, how could he have allowed that to happen? Then again, what was so wrong with feeding the child from his arm? Colin would think it wrong, very wrong. Joanna would think it horrific that he touched CJ at all. Neither of them wanted to admit that CJ had grown up, no longer a child, but not yet an adult either. CJ did have her own mind, her own passions and now her own blood thirst to deal with. Ben would allow her to use him again if she wished it. This he knew with all certainty, no matter what her parents may have to say about it. She needed him and he loved that she needed him like she needed no others in this house. "Benjamin.” Colin's low voice just on the other side of his door! Ben froze, his hands on both sides of his head, his heart in his throat waiting to see if Colin had come to disembowel him or not. Had CJ said something to her father after he left the room? His eyes flew to his wrist, but no marks remained from CJ's assault. "Benjamin?” Colin spoke a little louder as he knocked twice on the door. Without a sound, Ben rolled over to his knees and crawled away from the doorway and his creator. He wanted to hide, but that cowardly thought sickened him so he stood and padded to the bathroom. He flushed the toilet as if he had just used the bathroom, then called back to Colin. "Just a sec.” He crossed the room, making his footsteps audible, until he reached the door and opened it to peek out at the dark looming shape in the hallway. Colin stepped forward, a slight smile reassuring Ben that he meant no harm before he spoke again. "May I speak to you?” Seeing the conflicting emotions dance across Ben's face, and with good reason, he sought to calm him. “Just for a moment, please, Ben. It is important.” His hand on the slick surface of the wood, he pushed to open the barrier between him and his anxious neophyte and Ben moved aside to let him enter the room even though he knew Ben did not want to.

His entire rigid body screamed of his wish for privacy but Colin ignored him and moved with his customary unshakable grace to sit on the edge of Ben's bed. Damn him! Oh but he should bite his own tongue off for even thinking such a thing! But think it he did and every muscle in his body broadcasted his wish to avoid Colin, his father, his friend, his Creator. He might as well admit his guilt now and get it over with. Ben kept too many secrets; too many hidden thoughts and his secrecy had driven him inside himself. His indiscretion with CJ only added fuel to the already blazing inferno and he would burn to death wallowing in his sizzling deceit. His frantic mind raced while Colin sat there on his bed, calm and staring at him, an empirical tower of virtue, lord and ruler of all he surveyed. "Ben, please, sit down. I will only take a moment of your time.” Calm, rational speech. No anger. Funny that he had thought of Colin as ‘calm’ twice in the last few moments. The twisting in his gut abated some and he rolled out the desk chair to sit, still too edgy to be seated any closer to his creator. Colin smirked, a flash of a smile, but then his face again collapsed into that emotionless façade. Crossing his legs, then smoothing his slacks with one elegant hand, Colin sighed and met Ben's gaze. With one draw of breath he was struck mute. Taken aback by the deep blue of his companion's eyes, memories flooded through his mind. Watching those troubled eyes as a brand new neophyte, fighting the hunger—seeing the tremendous pain in them when Ben struggled with the hungry constrictor in the Amazon jungle. Those stormy sea blue eyes dulled and in the semblance of death when Colin tried to revive him after the vicious tribe bled him dry on the stained sacrificial altar. The love he still felt, and would always feel for this young one, stole his breath away. He couldn't hold the expressionless mask in place any longer. He smiled, a genuine smile that baffled Ben for his mouth fell open and stayed that way, a broken trapdoor that hung precariously by one hinge. "Honestly Benjamin, I did not intrude into your room to stare at you, if that is what you are thinking.” His smile stayed fixed in place. "I don't know what to think about you sometimes, Colin. I often wonder if you're possessed.” Ben's soft voice broke as he laughed, that nervous little laugh he forced when he didn't know what the world had in store for him. "Oh, I am possessed all right. That would explain all these conflicting feelings, possessed indeed. That is essentially what emotions are, are they not possession?" Ben didn't answer. He sat in his chair, turning to and fro, pushing the floor with his feet to spin the swivel chair an inch or two one way, then an inch or two the other. His shoes scraped against the rug, tennis shoes with a good grip, ah, they were new ones too. Colin examined his companion a little closer and noticed that he wore new jeans also and a nice pale blue shirt that brought out the color in his eyes. He resembled a college student with his button down collar and Reebok athletic shoes. Colin realized that it had been a very long time since he found himself so alone with Ben and even longer since he had examined him with such close scrutiny. Colin cleared his throat, feeling a little foolish for ogling Ben the way he did and he began to speak, his tone soft, caring, very unlike the powerful being behind that voice. "I hope you realize the love I feel for you, Benjamin. You will always be my child, my firstborn, my blood—but you are also my equal." He cut off Ben's objections before they left his mouth. "Yes, you are my equal. You are old enough, and certainly strong enough to leave us behind and live your own life. I am most grateful that you choose to remain with your family." Mute, Ben stared back, eyes wide with some strong emotion, shock perhaps. His expression made Colin smile again. "I also want to apologize for my earlier actions when you held Chaos in your arms. My imagination ran wild and I thought my daughter, well I thought that you had killed her.” He shook his head like he could not believe he had even thought such a terrible thing, and then he continued his astonishing admission.

"When I saw you standing there, of course I intended to destroy you and would have if you harmed my daughter, but on the other hand, when she awakened I do believe I felt more relief that I did not have to kill you than anything else. Do you understand what I am saying?” Holding out his hands with his plea, Colin wanted Ben to understand but for once in his life, words did not come so easy. Annoyance hovered, ready to rear its ugly head. "I understand, Creator. I do.” When Ben spoke the annoyance evaporated. “We all react, um—excessively when it comes to CJ." "Excessively! Yes, I agree. Very well put, Ben.” Colin stood and stepped closer to Ben in his now wildly swiveling chair. "Be still, would you?” Colin put his hands on Ben's shoulders to stop his fidgety movements. "Now.” His voice grew louder and more stern than it had been since he entered the room. Ben froze. "Now,” he said again. “Tell me why your fangs glistened in your juvenile mouth while you carried CJ through the house.” Bending at the waist, his face even to Ben's, Colin watched for his reaction. Ben's entrails congealed but lucky for him, his face showed nothing. He stared back into those sepia lie detectors that bored into him with an almost tangible force. He opened his mouth to speak, but felt like he would swallow his tongue so he hesitated, breathing through his mouth, deciding how to say something expressive even though he knew Colin might not appreciate it at all. "I, uh ... I ... she had a wound, Colin. Nothing more." "She had a wound?” His voice rose in pitch. “Explain, Benjamin and do it with haste." "I heard the thump as she hit the floor, Colin, and I ran to help. I found her there, with blood on her hand. Just a small amount, nothing severe. I swear to you, Creator, I brought no harm to her. I would never do that." Growing suspicion bloomed in his gut and he watched Ben's face as he spoke. Guilt. Ben hid something or omitted something, no doubt about that now. He knew what it had to be but he would wait and see if Ben confessed and if the act sounded as innocent as it must be. "All I did was lick the blood from her fingers, nothing more. I did not make the wound and I meant nothing by it. I didn't even mean to put her hand to my mouth. It just happened. Colin, really, it was nothing. When you and Joanna entered the house, I was on my way to you with CJ in my arms. I worried over her loss of awareness, not that tiny drop of blood. You must believe me!" Colin watched the play of emotion on Ben's face, but he did not respond. He should reassure his young friend and let him know that he understood but the father in him wanted him to suffer, just a bit, for tasting his daughter's blood. Raising his hand from the arm of Ben's chair, Colin touched Ben's cheek with a brush of his fingers then dropped his arm to his side and stood before him. "I believe you." **** Hours after Colin left his room Ben still paced back and forth across his braided rug, trying to sort out the consequences of CJ's latest actions. Fortunate that Colin had no clue about her veritable attack on his arm. He didn't know what to do. He should avoid her as much as possible, though he could never turn her away even if it meant his own demise. A soft tap at his door startled him. He stopped his pacing to stare at the burnished wood like it had just come to life and morphed into a hungry beast. Another muted, delicate tap followed. "Ben.” The whisper followed the knock. Shit. CJ knocked at his door. He hesitated, listening for Colin or Joanna but heard nothing other than the girl's nervous breathing outside his room.

The others must be asleep. Unease fluttered in his stomach, a winged plague swarming through his organs—Black Death. He opened the door, just a crack and CJ wiggled through that crack and squirted into his room to stand there staring up at him with such incredible longing that he couldn't scold her even though he should. She should not be in his room at all and there she stood in her frilly little babydoll pajamas, imploring him with those exquisite brown eyes to allow her to stay. "I want to sleep with you, Ben." Taken by surprise, Ben rocked back on his heels, a sledgehammer slamming into his chest, stealing his breath away. "CHAOS JANELLE!” Colin's livid voice echoed through the room with a noxious resounding roar.

Four CJ's brows rose in shock, then she turned to face her irate father, her expression the epitome of angelic innocence. "What's wrong, Daddy?” She used her infamous high-pitched babyish whine that made Colin and Ben both flinch. Ben knew what she was up to right away with the little girl act, but he would be willing to bet that Colin would not catch on. CJ had her father wrapped around her little finger. Sickening, but in this case, what a good thing! Her sainted performance just saved her rear end and his life. Colin glared but he didn't say another word. CJ's act worked very well—again. "I couldn't sleep and I want to sleep with Ben, in his big bed.” She stuck out her bottom lip in a childish pout. Ben turned away to hide his grin and Colin sighed, his exasperated groan sinking through the weighty silence with a sudden finality that not even CJ would fail to notice. "Chaos...” He frowned down at her and put his hands on his temples, pushing his fingers against his head until the tips turned pale. Then he dropped his hands and sighed again. "You are too old to sleep with Ben now. Do you understand me? You will not argue with me about this either young lady. Now march back to your own bedroom and remain there." Without another word, CJ spun around and flounced out of the room, eyes down to avoid her father's stern gaze. Colin stared at her retreating back for a moment then glanced up at Ben, who also would not meet his gaze. What an ogre these two must think him to be. So be it. At least he felt more like a human parent at this moment than the stern Creator keeping his neophytes in line. He rather liked this feeling. Controlling without fear. Yes, he liked it quite a lot. Colin smiled to himself and after hearing CJ's door slam he left Ben's room, confident that he handled the situation well. His smugness vanished when he passed the stairs leading to the lower floor. Something followed his movements with fervent interest. He stopped, his pulse racing, and turned to see Linnea standing at the bottom of the stairs. Grim judgment. Raw fury and condemnation. Glowering stare and solid stance, no words, only her censure reached him like a stinging slap to his face. A flash of fear roared through his veins and sputtered out, a tiny flame dying in molten wax. Angry with himself for feeling the slightest bit of fear, he returned her heated stare. Rage exploded into the air, banshees wailing, thunder rolling, a tsunami gathering strength before crashing onto land, all heard in the corporeal silence. Who would die now? Would she move to destroy her child? Would he fight his creator to her death, even if he had the power to do so? How he hoped it would not come to that. To his utter astonishment, Linnea blinked up at him, the fire in her eyes flaring for a brief moment, then she turned to walk away without uttering a sound. Just as she left his sight, he heard her lyrical voice inside his head, a delicate whisper ... “You are clueless." The heat invaded his face like a battalion of red army ants scrambling across his flaming skin. Good that she did not see his reaction, but Linnea knew an attack such as that one would be the most painful wound she could inflict. Colin clinched his fists, nails cutting into his palms, blood seeping from the wounds only to have them heal and then be re-injured once again. Whatever did she mean by “clueless"? Colin started down the stairs, but stopped on the third step and ran his blood-crusted hand through his hair. Challenging Linnea now would prove to be a mistake and he knew this. His wounded pride almost made him as foolish as she must think him to be. No, he would not make an ass of himself today. Maybe tomorrow. "Colin, what're you doing?” Ah Joanna. How he must appear, standing like a dolt on the stairs, again clad only in underwear. He did not want to turn his head, allow her to see him with conflicting emotions ravaging his features, allow her to see him as less than invincible, so human.

Without moving, he answered, his voice low, just above a murmur. “I am sorry, did I wake you, Jo?" No response, no thoughts. Nothing from her to indicate she heard him speak. He sighed, his broad shoulders rising then falling in defeat as he turned to look at his wife. Just as he suspected, she faced him, arms crossed in front of her chest, her bare foot tapping the carpet with a steady irritated rhythm. Hmm. Since he would prefer to not tell her everything that just transpired, he could think of only one, albeit one very pleasurable, way to deal with Joanna when she caught him by surprise as she just did. He grinned at her as his burning gaze roamed down her slim body and back up to her now heaving breasts and the pulse beating in her throat. "Do you honestly think you can keep me quiet just by looking at me like that, Colin, I mean really?” How she tried to sound annoyed, but the husky timber to her voice negated her words. His smile grew as her heart raced faster and faster still. So easy to hear that familiar beat, he didn't need to listen for it. Not allowing her to drop his gaze, he moved up to the next step, which brought his face level to hers as she stood at the top of the stairs. How he loved the effect his proximity had on his chosen one. There could be no bigger ego booster than her blushing cheeks and the desire in her eyes that she could not hide, and yes she did wish to hide it! "Come along Joanna. I have something for you.” He took her hand and with one fluid motion, joined her at the top of the stairs, then led her down the hall, back to the bedroom they shared. Stopping just inside their room, he released her hand and turned to lock the door. The snap of the metal bolt brought a smile to Joanna's face. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't ya?" If only she knew that in all other aspects of his present life he had no assurances, but here in this room, with her, he knew where he stood, erect and ready, sure of himself—yes indeed. She giggled this time when he approached her with avid lust blazing in his eyes, and he also let the quiet laughter escape his throat as they tumbled to the massive bed together, limbs entwined like the steamy rainforest undergrowth. Colin's mouth sought hers and their moist lips met, tongues colliding, flashing over teeth, seeking the keen tips that knick flesh and cause a trickle to flow from one mouth to the next, enflaming their appetites for each other. All his problems vanished and his entire existence centered on this beautiful moment, this beautiful woman. Her skin emitted its own winsome autumn fragrance, a pumpkin pie cooling on the windowsill, candles burning as sentries beside the pie, the crisp night air, all these things and more. He inhaled, sucking her essence deep into his lungs, then buried his face in her neck, nibbling at her skin, kissing her, sucking at her flesh. At the same time his hand traveled down her body, sliding under her nightshirt and tearing it off like it was made of little more than rice paper. Joanna writhed under his caresses, moaning his name, calling him her master, her god. He wondered if she might be embellishing, cajoling him, but one look into her face proved him wrong. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted, cheeks flushed with color and then she opened her eyes to see why he stopped his kisses. Murky deep green seas peered at him, drowning him with her desire and the question there—why did he stop? He smiled and touched the end of her nose with his lips, then moved to her mouth and again to her throat, then further below until he reached her belly. Wrapping his right arm under her back and holding her tight against him, he used his other hand to slip her little red bikini panties down and spread her long legs wide. Sliding his fingers into the center of her heat, he pumped them in and out and caught her nipple in his mouth, tugging with his teeth and stroking with his tongue. Her hands flowed through his hair, caressing his scalp and twining his curls around her fingers then holding him against her, smothering him, grinding his face on her breast. Colin knew what she wanted, what she craved most of all. With a low growl, he opened his mouth wide and drove his fang teeth into her torrid flesh, gulping the blood and nursing more from her as he mouthed her nipple. Joanna bucked against his hand as it pumped into her again and again, harder and harder until he heard the keening whimper start deep in her throat and she convulsed on his fingers.

Licking her wounds, he removed all traces of blood and savored those last drops as Joanna sighed and relaxed under him. With her dark hair spread around her against the pale blue sheets she gave the impression of being a fallen goddess, an untamed beauty from every man's dreamland. Once again, it amazed him that she lay before him in his bed, his chosen one, his mate. Her muscles tensed and she surprised him by using her superior strength to flip him over, then straddle his stomach her legs bent at the knee, hugging his sides. Joanna pinned his hands on each side of his head and beamed down at him through a barrier of luxurious midnight hair. That lopsided impish grin of hers drove him wild, breathtaking, her smile... Silky strands tumbled across his chest and shoulders as Joanna bent down to bring her lips to his. She kissed him as he had done to her and her mouth followed the same path on his body as did his on her skin just moments before. Her tiny nips left a moist trail of fire across his throat, his chest, his stomach and last, his groin. Moving down his length, she engulfed him, pulling far more of him into her mouth and throat than he thought possible. Incredible, these sensations! Like the very first time he felt the warm and wet cocoon on his sex, he fought to contain the inevitable explosion that gathered just below. Delightful, her teeth scraping with infinite care on his most sensitive area as she moved back to the head and circled with her tongue, then plunged back to the very base, her nose smashed into his short black curls. Arching his back, he pushed into her even farther and groaned as she broke the suction to sink her teeth into the throbbing flesh, then she sucked even harder, drawing him in, his blood, his love, his very soul ran through that extended appendage. He bit his tongue to keep back his ecstatic moans and keep his voice low enough to avoid attracting outside attention. The exquisite pressure now proved too much to hold back and he exploded into her mouth with enough force to blow her across the room. Her lips locked to him, she hung on and swallowed every drop he had to give. "Oh, Joannaaaa ... Woman what do you do to me?” Of course she could not answer with her mouth full, but it had not been a real question anyway. With gentle pressure, she started moving against him again. Still throbbing from his last tremendous orgasm, the sensation her erotic movements elicited drove him insane. Gathering fistfuls of her long mane he held her head still against him begging her to wait, to give him a little longer to recuperate—but she would have none of that. Despite his grip on the back of her head, she bobbed, at a snail's pace, up and down on his hardening network of raw nerves. Senses throbbed, yet he felt like he had left his body and entered some erotic place where all consciousness blazed red and oozed from the corners of Joanna's mouth. A new invasion racked his blazing nether regions. While her lips worked his manhood she had moved his legs upward, knees out and snuck one of her wet fingers into him. He wanted to tell her to stop this perverted act but to his surprise, it felt good. Pumping her finger in and out she heightened his excitement even further with her shocking assault. "Come here, Jo.” His voice a sensual rumble meant to titillate her. Joanna withdrew and slid her willowy body over his, trapping his swollen rod between her breasts, then slipping him across her stomach to slide past her moistness and be captured between her thighs. He rolled over sweeping her under him and took her mouth, shoving his tongue between her teeth, tasting his own seed lingering there. Pushing her legs apart with his knees, he poised himself there, just outside her dripping heat, feeling her desire, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her, then he drove into her. She rose to meet him, slamming herself against him as he bucked into her. Wild, savage, animal sex—they let themselves go, destroying the bed in the process and not caring. Again and again he pumped into her, their bodies contorting to glide as much skin together as possible. As he felt Joanna's spasms start deep within her he slowed his pace just enough so that he could hold her close to him and kiss her throat with lips, tongue and then pointed teeth. As her blood and juices flowed he followed her in convulsive release. Male and female melted into a mound of quivering flesh and heady contentment as Colin settled himself on top of her then rolled to his side, his sex still embedded inside her, the taste of her fiery blood remaining in the back of his throat to taunt him into wanting more. Joanna nuzzled his chest with her chin, pushing the slight hairs away to kiss his flushed skin before she opened her mouth wide to drive her fangs into his flesh. Brief pain and intense pleasure coursed through his veins as she fed off him and he felt her pull all the way to his re-animated groin. He pushed deeper into Joanna's welcoming body and growled, then his erotic intentions shattered when he heard Chaos approach the door.

The child's hesitant knock roused the two lovers like a frigid wave of icy water cascading over them. "Mom?" Joanna groaned against Colin's skin then turned her head so she could speak to her daughter. “What is it, CJ?” None of her irritation evident in her tone. It didn't surprise Colin at all. Joanna seemed to possess infinite patience when it came to their child. His only wish, that she also showed him that same patience. Of course she did not. "I'm hungry and it's already dark outside. Are you and Dad getting up now?" "Oh, I am up all right.” Colin muttered under his breath. "Shhh.” Joanna slapped him on his bare backside and spoke louder to the child waiting on the other side of the door. "We're getting up now, CJ. Go on to the kitchen and I'll be there in a minute.” Staring into each other's eyes, they waited, holding their breath to see if CJ went on her way. Colin grimaced, the cold air a shock on his damp skin as he pulled out. Joanna fit him like a warm, moist glove and he felt bereft without her. If he had his way, they would spend the rest of the night right where they were now. One of Joanna's thoughts intruded into his mind. She thought of her earlier actions with her finger. That had to be the last thing he wanted to talk about. Oh no, she intended to talk about it—now. "Do not mention it, Jo." Frowning, she stared into his face and he felt her fingers moving against his stomach as she thought again of where she had shoved that finger. "But, Col..." "Really, Joanna, do not mention it.” A foreign, almost forgotten emotion flooded his features. Embarrassment. The red blush stained his cheeks. He felt it warming his face. With a desperate bounce, he left the bed and dove for the bathroom. Joanna's snicker followed him out of the room, but she would get her just reward later on. He would see to that. Joanna dressed in a hurry, shorts, t-shirt, her favorite white crew socks. She would have to change after she fed Chaos, into the black attire her creator demanded she wear to hunt. Try as she might, she had never been able to sway him on that. The full moon beckoned, her hunger stirred and drinking from her mate would not abate this terrible fever. Someone would lose his or her life tonight. She frowned as she left the room, not happy that she must seek to destroy life this evening, but she didn't want to ruin her time with CJ right now by dwelling on it. Gosh, after twelve years one would think she had grown a few calluses. Without making a sound, she padded down the stairs and across the den to the kitchen. CJ failed to notice her arrival and Joanna stood watching her from the doorway. The child held the shiny toaster at an angle that reflected the light and she had her lips apart, looking at her front teeth in the metal side of the toaster. Joanna sighed, her heaving breath exaggerated to announce her presence before she walked into the room. CJ dropped the toaster on the counter and glared at her mother. "Mom!” She clicked her tongue in indignation. “Don't sneak up on me like that!" Joanna ignored her tone even though it grated on her, especially during this time of the month. Even though she felt like snapping back at her, she remained calm, without so much as a quiver in her voice to show her irritation. "Now, CJ, if you weren't so engrossed in your own appearance you would've seen me come in. And, you better watch yourself with me young lady." CJ's expression changed in an instant. She turned away and parted the curtains beside her tall chair to glance out the window. She wanted to say that watching herself is what she just got chided about, but one look back at the stern set to her mother's mouth and

she changed her mind. Better to stare back out the window. The full moon winked at her through the trees and her mouth dropped open. So, it was that time. No wonder her parents had been more on edge the past few days. She should pay more attention to them and she decided right then that she would observe the little vampire details—now that she had become one too. Of course she knew that her parents drank blood. She couldn't live in the same house with them and not know that, though they didn't speak of it. All the inhabitants in her house drank blood and now so did she. That thought delighted her and she smiled. "Now just what are you smiling about?" CJ's smile vanished, replaced by the blandest look she could plaster on her face. She mimicked her dad so well, and she knew it. "Nothing, Mom." "Well, nothing must be funny.” Joanna moved to the bar to stand beside CJ. Leaning down she propped her elbows on the counter and held her chin in her cupped hands. This position put her face to face with her belligerent daughter. CJ's nostrils flared with her quick intake of breath, but she didn't say a word. "Anyway, what do you want for breakfast? I need to go out for a little while so it's got to be something quick.” She watched CJ's face, seeing conflicting emotion there even though the child tried her best to put on an expressionless mask. Almost like she hid something. Probably she did, but Joanna knew that this willful little girl would not tell her anyway, so she didn't ask. She waited a moment more for CJ to state her breakfast requests and when none were forthcoming she straightened her back and stood beside the bar, looking down at the top of her stubborn child's head. "How bout bacon and eggs?” Joanna smoothed CJ's tangled hair back out of her face, waiting for an answer. Leaning into her mom, she nodded her yes answer. Joanna wrapped her arms around the child's shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, then released her to start the meal. "Can I help?” CJ hopped off her barstool and followed Joanna to the fridge. "Sure you can. Why don't you get the frying pan out and put it on the stove.” Her voice echoed inside the empty refrigerator and she made a mental note to get more groceries soon. She sometimes forgot to replenish the food they used for Chaos since no one else in the house ate much, if anything at all. At least there were a few eggs and two strips of bacon left. That would be enough for CJ with her delicate appetite. She hadn't been eating much lately and it worried Joanna. Colin entered the kitchen, his formidable aura reaching her seconds before he did and the hair stood on end across her exposed skin. Like a storm gathering strength in the clouds, he filled the air with his electric essence. His warmth enveloped her as he slipped his arms around her from behind and held her close against his chest. Whispered words dampened her ear canal as he bent his head and told her he loved her. In answer, she leaned back, molding herself to him and glanced over at CJ just in time to see her roll her eyes at her parents. Joanna felt the soft rumble of Colin's laugh against her back. He took note of CJ's revulsion also. "Get a room.” CJ's attempt at a smart-ass remark, spoken in a quiet voice but of course they both heard. In a flash, Colin released Joanna and spun around to grab CJ around her waist and hug her tight. Then he swung her around in a circle, her long hair flying out then falling down in her face when he dropped her back on her own feet. As she giggled and clawed the hair out of her eyes he spoke, his voice loving but authoritative at the same time. Of course, his speech always reflected his invincible confidence whether he intended to or not. "We have a room you little munchkin, and so do you. I can refresh your memory about this by sending you there, if you like.” He smiled down at her, his lips parted just enough to show the even white teeth behind them and she knew he kidded her even though she heard the reprimand in the same breath.

"That's okay, Dad.” CJ flashed him her most innocent and engaging grin as she gazed at him and he responded as any enchanted father would by letting his unconditional love shine on his face. CJ's jaw dropped as she continued to stare at her father. "What is the matter?” Worry lines etched his forehead. "Oh my gosh, Dad. I never noticed how good looking you are." Joanna burst into laughter, upsetting the frying pan and almost knocking it off the stove. Colin and Chaos stared at her as she continued to laugh, tears rolling down her face as she hiccupped and laughed some more. Colin crossed his arms in front of chest, watching, waiting, and hoping that Joanna didn't choke on her own tongue. He controlled his own amusement; though he felt the corners of his mouth lift and put his hand up to cover his smirk. Sometimes Joanna could be ... extreme. Dropping his arm back to his side, he stepped closer, towering over her then bending down to look into her eyes. "Are you quite finished?” His delicate, sensual tone startled her out of her hysterics. With a final silly hiccup, she quieted and leaned forward to dry her wet face on Colin's impeccable white dress shirt. He stiffened, but he didn't pull away. "Sorry.” Joanna glanced from Colin to Chaos and back again to the wet stain on Colin's shirt. "Well, your food is ready, CJ honey. Go ahead and get it before it gets cold. I've got to go out for a little while.” She turned on her heel and headed back out of the kitchen to get dressed, knowing Colin would follow in a moment. As she passed through the den, Joanna heard the click of a door as it closed and locked. Linnea had just left the house. So easy to feel the emptiness in her room. Linnea emitted an even stronger vibration than Colin, an unpleasant ultrasonic buzz that she felt in her forehead, right between her eyes. With the others, they had grown accustomed to each other's frequencies so that the vibration no longer caused discomfort, but with Linnea it just didn't work. Joanna hurried up the stairs, feeling the blood cramps worsen in her gut with each step. She had to hurry. The city she wished to hunt, the capitol, took an hour to reach at a steady run. Of course, reaching the capitol took little effort. Finding the right victim might be a little more difficult. Changing into her black jeans and black t-shirt annoyed her but she knew that getting by Colin without the obligatory black clothing would be impossible. He still dressed in a power suit! "Where are you going tonight?” Colin stood at the door to their bedroom leaning on the door jam, his feet crossed at the ankles, aloof, surreal, a neglected toy propped there by a careless child. How irritating that he could still materialize out of thin air, like a highbrow phantom without limbs or form. She answered with care to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "The capitol. I need the big city and I need to go now.” Joanna moved toward him, looking into his face as she spoke again, this time in a seductive whisper. “Or did you need to depart first?" "No little one, I can wait. Please do hurry though and come straight back home. You know I worry. I wish I could accompany you, but alas, I cannot.” He took his mate in his arms, holding her close and kissing the top of her head before he released her. Joanna exited the house, intent on getting downtown with as much haste as she could manage. She thought of driving, but changed her mind and took off on foot. With her supernatural speed, it would cut the travel time by more than half, plus she hated the smells of automobile engines. The gasoline, the engine oils, antifreeze—all of it, repugnant. Her mind drifted back to her romp with Colin earlier, and with a calculated burst of energy, her steps grew lighter and she picked up speed. Concealed in the woods behind her, someone followed as she left the house. Hard to believe what he sensed over the miles, hard to believe what he just observed with his own eyes. But yes, a female! Shadowing her, he kept her pace but stayed far enough behind to avoid her detection. He must investigate her strengths before he could decide if he possessed the power to take her by force. Oh, how delicious it would be to take her by force.

Five Airport Blvd., boisterous and busy as people went about their business in the darkness, taking care of dealings that occurred with ease under the cloak of night. So easy it would be to find her victim. So many that would try to take from her what she didn't offer to them. These were the souls she chose to seize, those that forfeited their lives by trying to prey on her. All it took to choose the next person to die—a simple stroll down the street and that is what she did, walk, looking down at the pavement, blind to the group of young males that pursued her—or so they thought. Joanna listened to them whisper to each other, questioning if she had any money on her, wondering why she traipsed through their neighborhood, speculating that maybe she belonged to someone important and that is why she walked without fear, with no discernable protection at all. She almost laughed out loud when one of the men said to the others, “She may be packing.” Joanna spun about to look right into their startled faces and two of them gasped, backed up a few paces, then bolted, leaving their remaining companion standing there alone. She smirked, looking him up and down, daring him with her eyes to advance on her now. If this male backed down from her obvious challenge, he would seem a coward and she doubted this big fellow would stand for that. Ah, dinner at last! Across the street she noticed a derelict house, its boarded up windows and defaced siding a testament to neglect, perfect for her needs. The lone man followed her gaze to the house then he looked back into her face, an expression of worry puckering his features that confused her for a moment, but the hunger churned through Joanna's gut—a big red steamroller, flattening her conscience. With a resigned sigh, she started toward the house. The door hung at an angle, supported by one corroded hinge and it had long ago been propped open to allow the miscreants easy access. The ramshackle building barely supported its own roof and had no full time occupants, but humans had been in the house not long ago. The scent of their destructive obsession still lingered in the air. Joanna hesitated a moment, listening for any remaining humans inside the house. No sounds of life from within except for the scampering of tiny claws and the drag of revolting hairless tails behind them. She stepped through the doorway, avoiding the assortment of discarded fragile glass vases, shattered like the lives of those that frequented this crack house. She stopped in the gloom, cast a glance back out into the street and smiled, fang teeth scratching her lip, when she saw her intended victim making his way to the house. All she needed to do now was wait. Ah, heavy footsteps on the broken down porch, picking their way with painstaking care to the door. Her heartbeat quickened. His head appeared moments later, followed by that hulking body. He stood there, blinded, listening for her, wanting to find her, yet perhaps wanting to turn around and leave again. Joanna examined him, searching for the motivation behind her uncharacteristic apprehension. His hair, tiny distinct curls, cut short to mold to his head, huge black eyes surrounded by obscenely long lashes, the orbs that belonged more in an extinct predator than in a human, wide flared nose and full voluptuous lips, turned down in a frown atop a very muscular, male body. His non-descript clothing told nothing about the man inside them. Jeans painted on thighs as big as her waist, if not bigger, and a white t-shirt that gleamed through the murk inside the abandoned house. Saliva flowed and she swallowed, anticipating that first taste of his rich blood. "Ma'am?” His voice faltering, as if he feared speaking but also feared that saying nothing would be worse. She didn't answer. Her saliva thickened and soured in her mouth. "Ma'am?” He drew a ragged breath and let it out before he spoke again. “Ma'am this is a dangerous place for you to be." Shit, shit, shit. This man concerned himself with her safety. Not a marauder, an innocent, dammit! The thoughts rampaged through her head, berating her for ignoring the earlier signs and yes there had been ample signs and she chose to take no notice of them.

The hunger had now become a veritable beast roaring to be appeased. She groaned and the man heard and stumbled towards her. "No! Don't come any closer." He ignored her warning and groped his way to her side, reaching for her in the darkness. Placing his hand on her shoulder he tried to peer down into her face though with his puny human eyesight he could see very little. "Are you okay?” His hand burned on her shoulder and his savory bloodscent filled her nostrils. She turned her head toward his meaty hand—his innocent helping hand. Damn him and damn her for what she would do now, what she couldn't stop no matter what. Her lips millimeters from his arm, she whispered to him. "I told you not to come closer.” Kissing his hand, she reached up to turn his arm over and with all the gentleness she possessed she eased her teeth into his thick, smooth, wrist. He gasped with the initial sting as her fangs punctured his skin, but he didn't pull away. Instead he allowed her to feed from him! No mesmerism, no foreplay, nothing to calm him and nothing to explain his passive behavior. She drank deep, his tangy cognac laced blood filling her with the vitality essential to her survival, more so than any refrigerated plastic bag of platelets, no, this adrenaline enhanced nectar made her feel alive. The headache began, behind her eyes, pounding deeper into her brain. Buzzing, aching more and more as she drew the blood from his willing veins. The dreadful vibration had become unbearable and she ripped her fangs from his flesh and threw him away from her. Despite his immense size, he flew across the room and fell in a heap amidst the trash in the main room. The agony subsided and she regretted her outburst, hoping that he had not sustained any life threatening injuries. To her relief he climbed to his feet, brushing off his hands on his pants. He stared down at his wounded wrist, illuminated by the streetlight shining in the open doorway. Awe. Amazement, and an inkling of anxiety stained his mahogany features, but then he smiled and raised his eyes to meet hers. His forehead wrinkled as he lifted his eyebrows to see her and before she even thought about her actions, she lifted her hand to touch those wrinkles. His baritone chuckle rumbled in his chest and she jerked her hand away. "I guess I didn't need to worry about you did I?” He hesitated, wiping his hand across his lips. “Well at least not about your safety anyway." When she didn't answer him, he spoke again, a little nervous with her silent scrutiny. "Did you plan to kill me tonight?" "I did." The man stepped back, shuffling away from her until his back slammed against the filthy wall. "Relax. You're safe now. But tell me, who are you and why were you not terrified of me?” She moved closer to him, smiling as his heartbeat quickened. Close enough to feel his warm breath on her face, she searched his dark features for an answer that she knew would not be forthcoming. Joanna wet her lips before she spoke again, exaggerated slow movements as she slid her tongue over one lip then the other. "You know what I am." "Yes.” His answer came as a choked whisper. Again, he hesitated as if he wanted to tell her something but he had reasons for keeping his silence. "Who are you? You should answer me this time. If you know anything about my kind you know that the full moon makes us suffer from foul moods and quick tempers." Again that delightful, rich, tenor laughter of his tickled her chest with its deep resonating pitch.

"Sorry that I laugh. I've been bitten before, ma'am. I'm not allowed to speak of it though. I can tell you nothing more than that." "Ah, that's the marker I felt!” Joanna was excited now that she knew and relieved that it was nothing more sinister. Visions of werewolves and warlocks that danced through her head before of course seemed ridiculous now, but before she knew, well... "I'll be goin’ now. Thank you.” He staggered toward the doorway and then from the porch she heard him finish his sentence and the genuine gratitude in his voice. “...for my life." Joanna left the debilitated house, a spring in her step, the hunger tamed, at least for the present time. Perhaps she could go without killing anyone this night. Heading out of the city, she hurried to return to her family and allow Colin to seek his sustenance. Thinking only of Colin and CJ waiting for her at home, she failed to notice the formidable being pursuing her. He watched in astonishment as she allowed her food to walk away without even wiping his memory clean. Insanity! How foolish that she allowed him to live, much less walk away unscathed. Moving to intercept the food and finish her careless job, he almost failed to notice her rapid approach and he dashed into a cluttered backyard to avoid her scrutiny. Hard to predict, this lovely female. He felt certain that she would need to rest after her traumatic experience but he had underestimated her abilities and now had to make a mad dash to keep up with her as she made her way back to her home in the desolate rocky hills. It took all his strength and concentration just to trail behind the female and he considered giving up the chase for a moment but then a miracle happened. She stopped running, glanced up at the sky and turned to climb a hill not far from the house where he first caught sight of her. The Milky Way galaxy lit up the sky now that the moon hung low on the horizon. Billions upon billions of stars winked down on her upturned face and it seemed that the infinity of space mesmerized her. He listened in to thoughts broadcast as she basked in the starlight. Endless sky, endless beauty, endless possibilities, the real proof that time has no end, nothing as humbling as the stars. Her profound, confusing ruminations made him stop and stare up at the night sky as she did, but only for a moment, then his entire consideration became the woman once more. Moving with the grace and lethal stealth of a starved panther, he crept up on her vantage point atop the hill. Very beautiful this female, and he would enjoy possessing her. His nostrils flared when he moved near enough to inhale her tropical scent and he clamped his lips shut to keep in his moan of pleasure. Sweat dotted his brow as his muscles bunched in anticipation of his great leap. His mouth watered as he leapt at her, intending to take her down, drain her to a point of weakness and confine her until she promised to behave herself. Out of nowhere a stunning flash of flying hair and sharp talons hit him in the chest and he flew from his feet to land on his back at the bottom of the knoll. Terrible pain ripped through his neck and torso, and with horror he felt the warmth of his blood flowing from the wounds. His arteries erupted with volcanic fury spewing blood like angry molten lava from the devastated crater that had been his chest. He tried to speak but failed, his voice gone, blood and torn flesh gurgling in his throat with every ragged breath he struggled to draw. The vision floating above him made no sense. A petite woman, delicate features, long black hair swinging in front of her breasts, then covering his face as she bent to his ravaged neck once more. Expecting more pain, relief flooded him when he felt her warm breath in his ear. "Your fatal mistake, my doomed friend is that you chose to approach one who is protected by me. Somehow, I doubt your intentions. Regardless, your blood will now go to nourish mine.” Linnea rose from his side to look down upon the awful damage once more. "Oh my goodness, look at all this wasted blood. A pity, wouldn't you say?” She smiled, looking into his shocked face for a moment before she dove on his throat, her mouth covering the gaping wound, drawing out his remaining blood with one long powerful gulp.

His heart remained courageous, still pumping until no blood remained in its chambers to keep the defeated organ inflated. Linnea slid down his body, sinking her keen fangs in his arms, his chest, his stomach, his thighs, even his groin to get every last drop he had to offer. A pity indeed, that he made bad choices in women. A pity that most males considered all females fair game. Joanna watched from her hilltop perch, embarrassed that she never sensed the assailant's approach and didn't even know of his existence until she heard Linnea talking to him. Such carelessness could very well cost her—her life. "Yes, it could.” Linnea's tender whisper did not offend, no scorn or condemnation in her words even though Joanna well deserved it. She wanted to thank her millennial savior, show her the appreciation she felt for her, but in the blink of an eye, Linnea vanished. One second she stood over the fallen blood seeker's body and the next she ceased to be there, like she had never been there at all. Joanna climbed down off the rock mound to examine the lifeless body of her stalker. No one she had seen before, but a stark reminder that danger lurked everywhere now that Chaos sent out the call. The hormones that changed her into a woman also called to the males and they would come for her, or at least the stupid ones would. Hurrying now, she ran back to the home she shared with the others and burst through the door. "CJ!” She bellowed as she ran through the kitchen and smacked into Colin as he tried to meet her at the door. The wall itself would have more give than his solid body. She pushed off his chest so she could meet his eyes. "Colin, we have to leave. We need to go now.” Joanna clutched his jacket with both desperate hands and stared up into his pale, shocked face. "Calm down, little one. CJ is safe. She is in her room reading or she was until you burst into the house yelling for her. He smiled, lifting one corner of his mouth in the manner that Joanna found so endearing. It worked, she smiled back but then she continued on with her anxious tirade. "Seriously now, stop looking cute. Linnea killed another vam—er, blood seeker tonight. He had followed me and like a fool, I didn't even know it. Colin, he meant me harm and I bet you he came here searching for Chaos and found me thinking I am the one who sent out the call. He was just too stupid to realize that it was not me after he noticed I had breasts." He looked down at her as if she had grown a nipple in the middle of her forehead. "She is sending out the call, Colin. You just don't sense it because you are her father. Remember, the males came for me too. Lachlan explained this to us, or was it Linnea? Anyway, she does it without knowing and she will continue to produce the pheromones until she is bred, just like I did." Colin's face crumpled and it appeared for a moment like he would vomit. Joanna's voice droned on, an amphetamine rush flying through her veins, this fear she felt for her daughter and her mouth would not slow down. "Colin, Colin, she is too young to be bred. She's only twelve. What will we do? We have to move to another city, another state— no another country! Mmmmphf...” A powerful hand covered her mouth. He did not let go when she struggled, but glared back at her—chocolate titans clashing with green warriors as their eyes flared. "Are you going to stop ranting?” A calm, silky—irritating voice. Looking down his noble nose at her he waited for signs of her capitulation and when she seemed to settle down he removed his hand from her lips and instead, caressed her cheek with feathery strokes before he dropped his hand down to her shoulder. "Listen to me. Blood seekers cover the Earth, Jo. So moving will be of no help to us. Astute males can and will detect the mating pheromones over incalculable distances as would be expected for a species so lacking in females." His matter of fact answer made good sense, but she still had the inclination to protect her child by fleeing from the danger. Even though a safe place didn't exist, the intense compulsion remained nagging at her with the intensity of a junkie craving her next fix.

Hands shaking, palms sweaty, pulse thundering in her temples she paced the floor beside her annoying, stoic husband. How he could stand there so calm, no signs of worry, fear, nothing, just placid features, relaxed stance—ugh she could just choke him! This devilishly handsome, infuriating man could manage to make her feel like a raving lunatic without saying or doing a thing. Damn him. "I'm gonna check on CJ. You should go, yes?” She realized that it sounded just like something he would say, adding that uplifting “yes” to the end of her sentence, but too late. So it seemed she had lost her mind. "I will hurry, Jo. And yes, I should go.” He teased her, but she ignored him. At least this time he would not get the satisfaction he sought from her dramatic reaction. Joanna whipped around and left the room before he could get another word in. She turned back before she mounted the stairs to see if he had exited the door and the last image she viewed would last an eternity, the Holy Grail from which she drank, this vision. His eyes, mirth filled pools of fiery sepia with black arched eyebrows dancing above. Unruly obsidian ringlets tossed about his head in reckless abandon despite his efforts to keep them tamed and in some semblance of order. His long aristocratic nose, so straight she could lay a ruler on it, and the crowning glory, those lush, impossibly wicked lips, spread wide in a condescending grin as he goaded her just one more time before he pulled his head out and closed the door behind him. She shook herself, trying to clear the picture from her mind, but it stayed, a permanent tattoo on her brain. Sighing, then laughing to herself she climbed the stairs to check on her daughter, the feminine version of that devil at the door. Her knees trembled as she lifted them to move up the stairs and she restrained herself despite the rampaging desire to run up the remaining stairs, grab CJ and vamoose to the next state. Colin's argument had a concrete validity and she knew that running would be in vain but that still didn't calm her jangled nerves. "CJ?” She knocked on the door with light raps of her knuckles. Without waiting for her daughter's prompt, she turned the knob and opened the door. CJ kneeled in the middle of her rug, oblivious to her mother's knock and subsequent appearance in her room. Joanna rushed over and dropped on her knees to the carpet beside her. The girl sat on her heels, her arms dangling down beside her, head fallen forward so that her chin rested on her naked chest. She wore only underwear; matching white panties and sports bra that Joanna noted seemed more swollen than it had been just yesterday. How strange. "Chaos.” She lifted CJ's head with gentle pressure. She almost screamed though when she saw her daughter's eyes rolled back into her head, the whites showing under the cracked lids. "Chaos!” She raised her voice a little louder. Still no response! Not knowing what else to do, she lifted CJ in her arms and carried her over to the bed. The child had more weight than she expected and she could swear that she had grown two inches taller over the past day. Other than that anomaly, she didn't look ill, no fever, no tremors, normal pulse. It appeared that she had just fallen asleep. Joanna smoothed the hair out of CJ's face, long curly locks like her father's, without the tightness of his corkscrew curls. Very little of this child resembled her mother—she seemed to have morphed straight out of Colin's loins. Maybe not such a bad thing after all that Chaos came out female. The world would not hold more than one Colin. Sitting on the bed beside CJ, she stretched her legs out and leaned against the headboard, one hand on her daughter's shoulder, the other pressed against her own throbbing temple. "What are you dreaming about Chaos? Where has your mind taken you this time?" **** CJ never moved, lost in her nightmares, her dreams of ancient times, her former life! Things she shouldn't understand made perfect sense to her as she lived through them for the second time just like it was the first.

**** She straddled her clansman, sitting on his chest, her wrist in his mouth as he drew more and more sustenance from her veins. She succeeded in awakening him but he continued to suckle from her as she grew weaker, and weaker still, and it frightened her. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her go and while she declined, his strength increased as he nursed from her wound. "Nuuuuh!” Hysterical now, she screamed, strangling on the sound as panic seized her. Eyes widened, the big male pulled her wrist from his mouth, and his nostrils flared, once, twice, like an animal scenting prey. Her arm still in his grasp, he lifted his head from the fur padding, gleaming eyes never leaving her face. Then he smiled. Shocked, she didn't know how to react. Rational thought had returned to him, but the smile, why would he smile? Looking him over, he appeared fit. His muscles responded well as he sat up. Then the furs fell down from his chest, past his lap and she saw the reason he smiled. Too late to run! He pulled her beneath him and flipped her on her stomach with one easy tug of his powerful arm. She tried to squirm away, but her head rammed into one of the sleeping clansmen and stopped her escape. The big male knelt behind her, tearing her furs from her body with one hand while the other arm slid under her stomach and lifted her hips to his level. With one powerful thrust he filled her, burying himself all the way in her hot body before he withdrew and pounded into her again and again and again. She relaxed, knowing that if she could just endure the pain he would finish soon and leave her alone. His thrusts slowed, then she felt his mouth on her shoulder, his hot moist mouth, as he sucked at her skin and nibbled across her shoulder to the back of her neck. To her surprise, she did not want him to stop the breeding! This abnormal male behavior felt good to her and she found herself moving to meet his thrusts. He removed the arm that pinned her to him, grasping each of her hipbones as she supported herself on her knees, rocking back to meet him, pounding him with her rear as he thrust his maleness into her, faster and harder. Biting into the back of her neck where it met her shoulder, he broke the skin and lapped at the trickle of blood as he continued to thrust harder and harder, approaching his finish. She could stand it no longer, her knees wobbled, her legs collapsing as she felt an enormous pressure build and detonate within her. She wet herself or she thought she had! Her male had also exploded inside of her, spilling his long dormant seed then falling to the furs beside her, panting. The smell of their breeding filled the small den, overpowering the untamed aroma of the clan and the pelts that kept them warm. What had she awakened with that feeding of her blood? This was good. This was very good and she wanted to do it again. She was the one smiling now and oh, what of the others? Would they be the same when she awakened them? She could hardly wait to find out. The big male only watched as she did the same thing to the next clan member that she had done to him ... slicing her wrist and forcing it into his mouth. This time she listened and as soon as his heartbeat quickened, she pulled away moving to the next male and then to the next. Dizziness almost overcame her as she straddled the last male. Her body swayed and her head felt as if it had sprouted wings and would fly away on its own. Hunger gripped her, twisting her gut into a painful knot. The pulse beating slowly in his throat captivated her so that she did not even notice the other two males stirring and the biggest male grunting his displeasure. Before she could even think twice about it, she used her flat knife to cut the throat of her clansman and instead of feeding him her blood she drank his. Divine, that thick, dormant blood. She growled, a low rumble in her chest, when her big male approached but he would not back off, instead, like the lightest feather, she flew across the den as he tossed her aside to bury his face in the sleeping clansman's throat. The others helped her to her feet and the one with the larger chest put his mouth to hers and licked the blood from her lips. It became obvious that he wished to breed her too when his pelts rose beneath his waist. She wanted him too, she wanted more. She dropped to all fours and waited for him to stick her. Eager, he moved to take her, the youngest male watching and waiting his turn, but the big male, the apparent alpha, saw them and roared in rage, his anger dividing them like the thickest wall of icy rock and the two males scurried away from her to the farthest region of the den.

But still, they watched every move she made, their bodies aching with desire, their nostrils flaring as they filled their heads with her powerful, enticing scent, a perfume that would drive them to tackle each other and the big male in an attempt to possess her. So it would be a battle amongst the males. So the battle would last for all time.

Six Splattered blood covered the ground, a sea of rubies glittering in the rich starlight and he stepped with care to avoid the sticky pools. A recent kill, this one and Colin hesitated, sweeping the area with all his senses, watching, listening, and scenting the air for the killer. No one around, no one alive that is. Joanna did tell him that Linnea destroyed a stalker that she herself failed to notice as he came for her. But this desecration soiled the ground in his very own backyard! He spun around, leaving the bloodied area, then returned to pace around the body, and left once again as he tried to decide which course of action to follow. Running his shaking hands through his hair, he caught a wayward curl between his fingers and tugged, yanking the strands out of his scalp and intensifying his irritation. With a low cramp in his gut, the blood thirst took away his need to make a decision. All he needed at this moment, all his body craved ... sustenance, in human form and he would have it, and have it soon. His nostrils flared as he lifted his head and turned toward town and his meal. At top speed, he traveled towards Austin, the largest city in close proximity to his home. More people, more meals, less pressure to cover up the death of one of its members due to the sheer size of the metropolis. Less then five miles away from his house he stopped, his breath catching in his throat as the fangs descended into place, two sharp killing machines snapping to attention. The scuffling sounds of a human running at top speed, and by the many times the human seemed to stumble, Colin would be willing to bet his eye teeth that this human ran in fear. Another crash sounded, the slam of a body hitting the gravel and something else, photographic equipment perhaps, also hitting the ground with violent force. Terror in those stumbles, no doubt now. Without a moment's hesitation Colin veered toward the doomed soul, his mouth watering in anticipation... Shelly's feet had somehow grown larger than her body, it seemed. She tried to run, but the rocks made speed treacherous, especially in the dark and she tripped and fell hard. Her flashlight dangled from her wrist, tempting her to use it, but she couldn't. The creature she spied through the telescope could still be out there, could still be hunting for more prey and she didn't wish to attract its attention with a beam of light beckoning to the beast, come and eat me, here I am. Terror possessed her, driving her faster and faster across the uneven ground. She ignored the scrapes on her knees and elbows as she fell over the sharp rocks and the thirsty unforgiving plants. She even thought of leaving her telescope behind but she just couldn't risk losing it. It took too many years of scrimping and saving to purchase it in the first place and she would not abandon it in the countryside for anyone to just take. Come hell or high water, this big, awkward, encumbering telescope went with her! She wanted to go back in time, never tilt the scope toward the ground, never spy the lone woman standing on the granite mound, never see the man creep up on the woman and, never see the other skulking creature kill the man and tear out his throat. But she saw, she saw it all and somehow knew that she should not see these things, that this un-natural occurrence not meant for human eyes would cause her own demise. She froze, watching it all unfold in slow motion. The creature lifted its bloody mouth from the now dead stalker and stared right at her even though she watched from miles away. Its eyes glowed brighter than any star she had ever examined and she gasped, swallowing the scream that clotted in her throat. The world dimmed around her, no light, no sounds save the beating of her own frantic heartbeat as it tapped its erratic beat on her eardrums. Swathed in the dark suffocating silence, Shelly stared back at the only other thing in the universe with her—those horrible shining eyes. That disparaging image and the terrifying isolation of that feeling stuck with her, burned into her brain and try as she might, she couldn't escape it. Even now, hours later, she could not flee that intense smoldering gaze. She felt the beast glaring at her from behind every boulder, from the branches of every scraggly tree, even the smallest cacti hid the demon within. Her inevitable death waited with bated breath. Stumbling again, she fell hard on her right side and hit her head on a large flat rock. Shelly welcomed the blackness. It deadened the pain and vanquished the relentless glaring fiend from her mind. But, it didn't last. The wave of oblivion washed over her but didn't pull her under all the way, leaving her a little disoriented and frustrated that she remained conscious. Motionless, she remained on the ground, ignoring the pain that throbbed in various places as she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on controlling

her breathing. In—out—in, hold it—out—it seemed to be working to calm her screaming nerves until she heard the muffled crunch of a light footstep in the gravel nearby. She felt that step like a kick to her gut and her pulse accelerated to rocket speed as the adrenaline coursed through her raging veins. She knew the fear of the rabbit as the wolf closed in, the tiny heart about to burst as it raced uncontrolled against its fragile ribs, the incalculable panic that a defenseless prey animal must feel when it realizes the unavoidable. Giving in is the only release, the only way of escape when death is inevitable. Hot breath on the back of her neck, the fleeting pain of the sharp teeth as they sank through fur and flesh to devour her alive. The warmth moved to her cheek and to her closed eyelids as soft lips touched her face and she realized that this creature no longer lived only in her mind. "Open your eyes little rabbit.” The deep baritone whisper tickled her ear as did the soft chuckle that followed as she scrunched up her cheeks to keep her eyes closed as tight as possible. She wouldn't look. As long as she couldn't see, then she didn't have to believe that her time had come and she wouldn't seek release, she would not give up. "You are not real—you are not real." More of that same quiet rolling laughter, but this time it didn't sound as close to her ear as before. The figment of her imagination had moved away from her face. "Unfortunately for you this evening, I am real." Like a spear impaling her body, she felt his poetic voice penetrate her shield of insanity and she knew that someone really did crouch over her as she lay sprawled on the rocky ground, hugging her scratched telescope. She opened her eyes, just enough to see the man kneeling beside her, watching her with unwavering interest. The starlight illuminated his handsome features, his straight noble nose, full lips, clean-shaven ivory skin free from any visible blemishes, and shadows for his eyes that vanished the instant he focused on her face. For a split second she could swear that she saw his eyes shine like the creature's gaze she spied through her scope, but then it vanished and only his dark brown eyes remained, staring down at her beneath his arched black brows. Black curls framed his face and blended with his dark clothing so that in the dim light he appeared to be of one color, one frightening form. Death did indeed wear a very attractive appearance. Maybe dying would not be so bad after all. Shelly watched his expression change as he reached to touch her hair with his fingertips. He drew his hand back and she saw the blood on his fingers before he put them in his mouth to lick them clean. His tongue moved over his lips and he lifted one corner of his mouth in what seemed to be a sad smile. Her eyes widened when his lips parted and she saw the sharp teeth within. "I am so very sorry that you witnessed something that you should not have. If I could change things I would." He reached for her. "No!” With a desperate burst of energy she tensed her muscles, jumped to her feet and squirmed away from his grasp. He caught her without exerting himself and held her against his chest as easy as he would clutch a lifeless doll. Never had she felt such undeniable strength, such power in his arms that he could crush her to death if he chose to and nothing she did would faze him. A heady maleness invaded her breath as he held her close to his muscular body. He even smelled of strength and virility, of savage wilderness, of intoxicating passion. Insane that she felt this attraction toward him. Insane that she enjoyed being held this way by him. It even crossed her mind that she could fall in love with him the instant before he took her life. "Why?” Her voice broke with a choked sob. In a lover's embrace, he held her as if he cherished her, still undeniably powerful but restrained so he would not bruise her. She felt the control in his quivering muscles and again she thought of how nice his arms felt wrapped around her like that. "You know why.” His chest rumbled as he spoke and it tickled her face. The hopeless tears spilled over, soaking Death's impeccable clothing. Shelly tried to push away and this time he allowed it, just enough so that she could gaze up at him.

"I'm afraid.” She gulped as she tried to rein in her fear. “Is there no other way?" He stared into her eyes, his chocolate orbs grabbing her, holding her as surely as his arms held the rest of her body. "Do not be afraid.” His soothing voice a mantra, sounding like it came from some other distant place and no sooner had the words penetrated her mind then her fear evaporated. She relaxed, warm and comforted in his arms, giving herself to him as if she had no choice, which she knew to be true—the rabbit in the wolf's clutches, resigned to its fate, the only release from the panic and the pain, that acceptance. "Will it hurt?” She couldn't help but ask as she noticed again the sharp fang teeth that he hid behind his lips. Bending down to her level, he nudged her head over to the side with his chin and touched his lips to her bare throat. She shivered and her knees gave out like they had never had bone inside them at all, but he held her upright and kissed her again, sliding his lips and tongue across her skin. He moved to her ear and she felt his moist, hot breath caress her ear canal as he spoke to her once more. "I will be gentle with you, dear one. You will feel no pain." She felt his lips brush her throat again then the sharp, needle pricks when his teeth entered her flesh. She tried to concentrate on the sensation of having him pulling the life out of her, but she lost her train of thought with the first delightful wave of ecstasy. The euphoria entwined with her conscious mind, clutched it with drifting, smoky tendrils and pulled her through the swaying forest, the flowing waterfalls and the tranquil pools beneath them, the lazy drifting clouds and to her beloved cosmos. The splendor of the twinkling stars beckoned to her and she could see them clearer now than she ever had with her telescope. She could touch the dazzling celestial bodies, hold them in her hands—float among the stars—forever. Sucking the droplets of remaining blood off her throat, he found himself holding his breath as she released her last whisper of an exhalation. Beneath his fingers, her thin chest stilled. Her courageous heart no longer pulsed, devoid of that crucial fluid to fill its hollow chambers. Hollow like his soul. With gentle care, he lowered her body to the ground, propping her head on a rock as if she slept and rested her head on the softest pillow. This empty shell that once housed a vibrant young woman, an innocent young woman, now useless, barren, discarded like hopeless dreams and it cut him to his core. What did she do with her life? Who were her friends? Lovers? Family? Not that he really wanted to know but sometimes he thought of the lives he stole, but only in passing or the guilt would consume him as he did his victims. This life he would have spared if she had not witnessed the earlier atrocities. What a pity that she did and what a pity that she understood so much about him—but maybe not, maybe knowing is what gave this lovely creature the calm resignation that he admired so much in her. A sparkle at her throat caught his eye and he knelt beside her body, resting his weight on his heels, and reached for the silver chain. Careful not to break the fragile thread of silver, he pulled the pendant out of her blouse. Another surprise. The tiny pentacle winked at him in the starlight. At least now he understood her reaction better. One with the earth, this young woman, accustomed to those things in the night that terrified most of humankind. Things like the wolf creature, himself and his family—part of nature to her. In a way, this made him feel a little better. Under different circumstances he might try to bring her over, see if she would survive the metamorphosis, let her join his clan. "Colin! What're you doing?” Joanna's angry voice grew shrill with the last hard ‘G’ at the end of her reproachful question. He winced and dropped the necklace back into the dead woman's shirt, careful not to touch her skin or even her clothing. How awkward he must appear to her, squatting on his haunches beside his victim like he mourned for her, or more likely to Joanna, like he longed for her. The jealousy in Joanna's voice cut through the night air like a bright green saber dripping with venom. "Colin!” She threw his name at him as if it were a weighty, lethal weapon. He did not like her tone, no, not at all. Irritated with her petty jealousy he almost spouted off to her, what does it look like I am doing?’ But instead, he decided diplomacy would make

him much happier later on than voicing his annoyance now would. "She was sustenance, Joanna. Nothing more.” He stood and stepped over the body to look down at his glowering mate. Her fiery emerald eyes danced in her taut face and he felt the sudden urge to kiss her on the tip of her child-sized nose. He bent down to follow through on his impulse and Joanna stepped back, moving beyond his reach, rejecting him. "Stop this.” Rigid steel words, said in a silken tenor whisper. Joanna recoiled like his utterance had formed a hand and slapped her across the face. She heard the warning in his voice but like an inevitable tidal wave, her groundless suspicion cascaded over her head, drowning her in unreasonable accusations and stripping her of common sense. She couldn't stop herself, couldn't stop the flood of dreadful words. "I saw you fondling that woman. I saw you, Colin.” Her words dripped jealous poisonous contempt. "You want her don't you?" Dumbfounded, he stared down at her, his jaw slack. Lucky for Joanna her ridiculous behavior had shocked the anger right out of him. With infinite patience, he lifted his arm to reassure her even though he had done nothing that could be construed as wrong and she shocked him even further by spinning about and running away. She used all her power to run as fast as she could, disappearing from his view in moments. Colin hesitated, not knowing how to respond. Joanna never acted so crazy, though she did display a bit of illogical behavior on occasion. This odd outburst had him so confused that he did not know whether to just go home or give chase. If he did chase her, he would of course catch her and what if she acted the same, chastising him for no good reason? How he hated this indecision! With a heavy sigh, and a twist of his head first one way then the other to stretch his tense, knotted neck, he listened for the sounds of his fleeing wife's footfalls, then he gave chase. He had no doubt that he would catch her. So confident did he feel that he found himself playing a game of hopping from stone to stone through the field of boulders that lie between him and his mate. Deep in thought, he failed to notice that her footsteps no longer hastened away from him and as he jumped from one boulder to another, someone grasped his ankle with a tenacious grip and he fell in an awkward heap between the two giant rocks. Nothing graceful about the fall. Nothing to stop his fall but rock and spiky plants. Instant rage. His blood flowed from the blunt trauma to his head and the multitude of tiny pinpricks inflicted by the smashed cactus beneath his thigh. He blinked, trying to clear his vision not only from the blood dripping into his eyes but also from the terrible fury that blinded him with its intensity. His first sight, Joanna's shocked, horrified countenance. She kneeled beside him, her hand outstretched as if she ached to hold him but feared his reaction. Good that she knew fear, for his wrath would be terrible for this. It ate at him from the inside out, dark avenger, the kiss of death, and any moment it would burst forth from his strained self-control and ravage her. The growl started, deep within his core, rising through his taut throat to form a terrifying snarl that curled his lip. Joanna blanched, all color leaving her face as she swayed on her knees before him. "Colin, please.... “Her voice trembled as she fought her terror. “Colin, I don't know what is wrong with me. Please listen. I am so sorry. I beg your forgiveness, I doooo.” Her delicate sobs tore into him, breaking his rage as easy as he could shatter a crystal goblet by dropping it on the stone littered ground. That shattering glass would ring through his ears just as her cries did before her sorrowful song died away. His roar quieted and then died in his chest as he drew a deep ragged breath to calm his rampant temper. "I meant you no harm, truly my husband. These ill feelings just came over me as I sat with Chaos and before I even realized what I meant to do, I had left the house and sought you out. Then as I ran, farther and farther away, the depraved jealousy vanished and I

just wanted to stop you as you ran, not injure you. It was stupid of me and I am sorry.” Joanna hiccupped, then coughed, trying to control her wayward emotions so that she could continue to talk Colin out of his terrible frenzy. He knew what she struggled so hard to do and it worked well. Already, his pounding heart had slowed, his fangs retracting back into the roof of his mouth as his ire cooled. As he suspected, something had happened to affect her judgment, her very personality, and it relieved him to know that her erratic behavior did indeed have an explanation of sorts. Without saying a word to her, he lifted his hand and touched his fingers to the wound on his head. The blood flow had already slowed to a trickle and he pulled his hand away to look at the blood staining his fingertips then he raised his gaze to Joanna. He peered at her through his lashes, watching the play of guilt as it rushed across her face, blotting out her concern for him for a moment before she composed herself enough to return his reproachful gaze. The corner of her mouth twitched as she tried to smile at him, as she tried to cajole him with her innocent look. "I am sorry.” Small words, soft speech as her voice strained to leave her clenched throat. “Please don't be mad at me, Colin." A sudden flashback to Joanna as a suffering, poisoned human took his breath away, crushing pain in his chest from worthless lungs that would not seize air. She said those very same words over twelve years ago, as she laid on the forest floor, close to death after an encounter with a very colorful, but deadly snake. Don't be mad at me, Colin. She must think him the most terrible tyrant if she still feared him as she did then. She did. She did fear him, though she tried to hide it. He saw it in her eyes and that is not what he wanted. Respect, yes, but fear? No, he had changed his mind. He did not want to strike terror in the heart of the one he cherished the most. With slow deliberate movements, Colin put his hands on the ground and pushed himself up. He groaned as he stood, a mannerism reminiscent of centuries ago in a puny human form. His slacks pulled to the side and he clicked his tongue, annoyed at the thorns protruding from his thigh. With another sidelong glance at Joanna he sighed and plucked the needles from his flesh, one by one, amazed that so many of the cactus thorns were able to break through his resilient skin. Tough, those prickly plants. After he removed the last one and tossed it at Joanna's feet, he dusted off his pants and turned to face his anxious mate. Her mouth puckered, lips drawn to the side as she chewed the inside of her cheek with nervous little nibbles. She stared somewhere near his lower extremities. She would not meet his eyes even though he bored a hole into her face with his heated gaze. "Joanna.” A wisp of speech, nothing more, but she winced as if he had just hollered at the top of his lungs. "Joanna, do you not think that simply calling my name would work as well as yanking my feet from under my moving body to gain my attention?” Colin kept his speech deliberate and precise despite the mouthful he just uttered to her. He wanted to bellow, 'why the hell did you do that?’ but instead he glared and pressed his lips together, waiting for her to raise her head and answer him. "Sorry.” She kept her head down. "Excuse me?” Colin tried to speak without allowing any of the irritation he felt to reflect in his tone, but this time, it would seem he failed. Oh hell, not the tears. Anything but the tears. Yet there they were, weaving a shiny trail down her cheek, silent sorrow that ate at his heart. "Damnation woman, I should not be the one to feel guilty about this. Stop it right this instant.” He spoke through jaws so clenched that his teeth squeaked. Still no reaction from Joanna—just tears. Colin's heavy sigh echoed between them, the only sound other than the stir of a lonely breeze brushing the boulders for a brief refreshing instant, and the amorous insects crying for love in all the wrong places. Joanna's mouth twitched. He saw it move! The corners lifted just a bit before she willed them back into a frown. He stepped toward her, lifting his hand to her chin to tilt her face away from his crotch and up to meet his gaze. She couldn't stop herself then, the grin came back as their eyes met. The vixen!

"Jo!” He cupped her face in his hands, framing her impish little pixie face with his long fingers. “Why do you taunt me so?” He implored her to answer this time even though he knew she would shrug him off as she always did. Joanna seemed to enjoy disturbing him more than any other activity she chose to take part in. Those emerald eyes of hers danced with mirth and he should be annoyed, but he found himself smiling back at her. He would much rather see her act like this than ever see her earlier bizarre behavior again. "Do you forgive me, Colin?" Her skin glowing from the mad dash to get away from him, eyebrows raised in angelic refinement, she beamed at him with sickening cherubic innocence oozing from her pores. Sometimes he wanted to just cut his own head off. "I should beat you.” His comment only made her smile grow wider. Then, she turned her head and slid her wet tongue across his palm. He sighed, long and loud, with as much theatrical melodrama as he could muster, and dropped his arms back to his sides, waving the damp hand to and fro on the way down. "Yes, I really should beat you, but not now.” He looked down his nose at her and started to speak again when a look of horror came over her. Eyes wide and rounded, nostrils flared, the color draining from her face so fast that he thought she might swoon. Her quick intake of breath and sudden agitation almost startled him with its intensity. Her hands rose, trembling, and covered her mouth. "What is it, Joanna? What is it?" She stared at him, her eyes now bulging from the sockets. Any moment her eyeballs would certainly fly from her head. She lowered her hands, slow motion movements, and grasped his shirt in her tiny fists. "I left Chaos at the house,” she gasped again, trying to clear her throat with high volumes of night air. “She is changing and she is with Ben. I left her with Ben!" He didn't understand her undue alarm or her statement about Chaos changing. Colin knew that Benjamin would not dream of injuring his offspring and that he would defend her with his very life. He covered her fists with his hands and tried to loosen her grasp on his shirtfront before she tore the subtle fabric. She also had a few chest hairs in her grasp and it became more and more uncomfortable to him as she pulled and twisted her handfuls of shirt. He succeeded in getting his shirt from her grasp and he held her hands cupped in his own to keep them from causing more damage. "What do you mean she is changing?” He spoke using his soothing powers, serene, sensuous expressions, calming her, lulling her into submission. She smirked at him, her mouth twisted into a sardonic slit. "Don't even try that shit with me. You know it doesn't work.” Joanna spoke low, but not with the sarcasm that her face reflected to him. He would not bring this to her attention. So he did still have power over her, whether she would admit it or not. "CJ is maturing, Colin. She is maturing in an un-natural manner and at such a rate that if we wait too long to return home she will be a grown woman. It may already be too late. And to make matters worse, I left her with Benjamin, Mr. Raging Hormones himself." Colin's triumph crashed and burned before he even had a chance to enjoy it and with Joanna's last muttered statement, his heart froze and pumped ice water through his withered veins. The unspeakable vision of his young daughter, lifeless and in the arms of his first-born, Benjamin, exploded with soundless fury into his mind. Dread. Cold, lethal dread.

Seven Ben slouched in his swivel chair staring without seeing the book opened on the desk before him. Distracted, his mind drifted to sexual encounters with his classmates instead of the studying he needed to do. Shaking his head, he forced himself to concentrate on the subject at hand. Why he ever decided to go to school, well he couldn't understand it himself. There were easier ways to impress his creator, but he made it this far and he might as well continue. He thought it very ironic that a blood seeker would choose law as a profession but hey, if he lost the case, he could always follow his opponent home and eat them. He chuckled as he flipped the pages in his Civil Procedure book until he found the chapter on The Erie Doctrine. "Ouch.” Ben held his right shoulder, feeling the phantom pain. The plaintiff walked alongside railroad tracks when an object protruding from the defendant's train severed his right arm. But what right did a trespasser have to sue the property owner? Jeez. Maybe this law stuff would not be as boring as he anticipated it to be. He pictured himself standing in front of a courtroom, his dark tailored suit impeccable and the fluorescent lights above—oh my, what would he do during the week of the full moon when his pallor would shine in that sluggish but intense lighting? He spun about in his chair to peer at himself in the mirror. A handsome face, young, virile and human gazed back him. Smiling at his reflection, he saw nothing that should repel anyone in his courtroom. On the contrary, he felt sure he could dazzle the jurors and the judge with a straightforward smile and a concentrated stare. "Ben?" CJ's shy voice startled him. When Joanna ran out earlier he went to check on the girl and found her in deep sleep. But obviously she didn't sleep now. He glanced at his clock radio and saw that only five minutes had passed since Joanna left. He inhaled and held it a moment before he emptied his lungs with a loud whoosh of heated air and pivoted his chair around to face her. CJ stood before him, an exquisite young goddess. Ben thought for a moment that this body could not belong to the kid he knew as Chaos or CJ or Brat, but after blinking hard several times he saw that an altered CJ waited in his doorway. Her luscious, dark chocolate eyes bored into him, never wavering even as he gawked, his mouth dangling open like a simpleton's. Some village missing their idiot? I know where he is. Right here in this chair, captivated by a phenomenal child who changed from a caterpillar to a butterfly in one day. Acres of shimmering ivory-smooth skin beckoned to him, a landscape to be explored. Hills and valleys yet to be discovered lay hidden beneath her flimsy underwear. At least she wore something, he should be grateful for that, as little as her bra and panties happened to cover. He wanted to shout at her to leave, shout for her to put some clothes on, shout at her to leave him alone. He didn't utter a word. He couldn't anyway with his tongue lodged in the back of his throat. "Can I come in?" Noooooo! he thought, but then his mouth never did seem to follow his brain's commands because when his lips parted to tell CJ to go away something different spilled out. "Sure, if you want to.” His voice didn't exist but she heard the words in his strangled whisper and she stepped into his bedroom, smiling at him as she pulled the door shut behind her. Ben's heart raced, slamming against his ribs as it tried to hammer its way out of his chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He sat and stared. She moved closer, her bare feet making no sound as she crossed his floor. With a sudden burst of clarity Ben jumped up, knocking the chair over and stumbling over it as he put some distance between himself and Chaos. Trying to appear nonchalant, he stood at the dresser, fingering the objects lying there—magazines, his wallet, his keys, some coins. Then he lifted his hairbrush and started to brush his hair but his hands shook so much that he ended up poking the stiff nylon bristles right in his eye.

"Damn it!” Of course, now his voice returned as he used profanity in front of Colin's daughter. The brush hit the floor and bounced, landing without ceremony at CJ's feet. They both watched the hairbrush like it had a life of its own and would get up and crawl, dragging its torturous bristles back to the dresser. Chaos looked up to meet his eyes, and then she bent her knees and kneeled to pick the brush up from the floor, never allowing her gaze to stray from his face. He felt the heat from her steady stare burning into his but he refused to look away, almost as if to do so proved her superiority over him. Maybe what he saw in her face amounted to little more than her father rubbing off on her, his superior attitude, his superior expressions. Chaos resembled her powerful father in so many ways already that for her to act like him also didn't surprise Ben in the least. Yes, that tilt to her chin—Colin in feminine form. What did she want from him? Ben shook his head, trying to clear away the thoughts of Colin so he could focus on the problem before him, the spawn. She stepped closer, still staring at him and he fought to remain standing in place though his body screamed for action of one kind or another. Part of him wanted to scoop her up into his arms and part of him wanted to run like hell away from her. Shameful that he would even think of wrapping his arms around CJ. His emotions ran rampant; he felt no control where normally he maintained an iron fist. The worst part of it all—she knew. Oh yeah, she knew. That calculating smirk on her face ate at him, made him feel somehow less of a man, but on the other hand—a wanted man. "What do you want, CJ?” Although he meant his words to sound terse, an indication of his advanced maturity and demanding respect, instead his voice trembled, changing pitch almost to a whine as he spoke her name. Shame. Shame without end. His head drooped, his chin resting on his chest. He refused to look into her face again and allow her to see the desire reflected in his blasphemous gaze. Ben ached to get out of the room, to get away from this fiery young siren. Her bare feet appeared on the floor in front of him and he could no longer stand it, her presence brought terrible pain. His muscles exploded into action and he darted around her, ran through the house and out the back door before she had a chance to utter a word. Into the rolling granite hills he fled, away from her and away from his inappropriate desires. He would die before he laid an amorous hand on that woman-child. Of course, he would die if he laid an amorous hand on her since Colin would hunt him down like the mangy dog he felt like and kill him. No doubt about that. Satisfied that a sufficient amount of ground lay between him and Chaos, he stopped running, climbed on one of the larger boulders and flung his body down as if the rock were a soft mattress. The smooth, sun baked granite warmed his back through the thin fabric of his shirt and he sighed, closed his eyes and tried to relax. His fingers traced the alligator on his shirt, over and over again until he had every stitch of the embroidered little modern dinosaur memorized and his pulse slowed to a more normal tempo. Ben dozed, listening to the choir of nocturnal insects as they sang their nonsensical lullabies. He loved the sounds of the night, nature at its finest. His eyes snapped open when a coyote yipped and howled nearby. Mournful calls that sliced right through him, lonesome male, he'd be willing to bet. He understood that feeling well. The animal carried on for quite some time before it gave up and went about its business of survival. Eerie, the silence, so abrupt, so hollow and the tiny golden hairs on his arms stood out from his skin as if to push away the quiet. He felt her approach only seconds before the weight of her body slammed onto his chest, knocking the air from his lungs and stopping any exclamations before they formed. She squirmed to cover his body with hers, legs on his legs, hands holding his wrists down with surprising force, breasts pressed against his stomach, then his chest as she made her way to his face. Stunned, he submitted to her attentions, as he had no idea how to react. Her long wavy hair slid across his face as her mouth opened on his throat. He moaned as she licked his skin and sucked at that same damp spot, then her sharp teeth tore into his flesh with almost animal savagery. Ben flinched from the unexpected pain, but still, he didn't try to push her away. Not every night that a voluptuous female blood seeker came for him and he allowed her every liberty. About time someone wanted him. The seductress drank long, drawing on his veins until he grew light-headed and weak. Her mouth moved deliciously on his throat, her tongue sliding across the wounds, wet lips kissing him and then her teeth entered his flesh yet again. He had to stop her before she drained him to the point of death!

"Stop.” His murmured plea seemed to fall on deaf ears. She continued to lap up the blood he gave her without restraint. "Please, stop!” More urgent now, but still without the force he wanted to put behind the words. She heard though and hesitated, panting against his skin before she withdrew her fang teeth from his damaged throat and washed the many wounds with her tongue. When no more blood seeped from the bites she kissed him again and pushed herself up to straddle his waist and look down into his face. Chaos! Oh no, Chaos. "Are you okay, Ben?" Same angelic little voice issuing from this woman's body. Mute, Ben couldn't answer. His brain ceased to create vocabulary. Chaos echoed through his head again and again and again. Sensation dulled in his fingers and toes, then crept up his arms and legs, his torso and then the woman straddling him weighed nothing at all. The dark sky grew heavier—falling on him—heavier, crushing him—heavier, smothering him—darkness fell. Out of the void, someone called his name. Faint oh so very faint, he heard her call. Yes a female whispering. "Ben—Ben, wake up Ben.” So far away, he strained to hear, but she inched toward him, closer and closer she crawled as she repeated his name. "Wake up Ben, you're scaring me. Wake up!" Oh please, make it stop. Eyelids as heavy as the boulder he slept on rolled open. Glaring at the woman-child perched above him, he dared her to scream in his ear one more time. She ignored his angry glare and smiled back at him, her small, even teeth gleaming in the starlight. "Oh I am so glad that you're okay! Ben, I thought I had killed you. I am so sorry. Honest. I don't know what came over me.” She babbled, not allowing him to answer. "Please Ben, are you mad at me? I hope not. Please don't be. You know I love you and I swear I didn't mean to hurt you.” She looked away then back at him, smiling with her lips together, a girlish smile, almost shy, or as close to bashful as she could ever be. "You taste so good.” Gentle speech now, but she didn't look away again. The corners of his mouth rose, just a bit. How could he not take that last statement as a genuine compliment? No one had ever told him before that he tasted good. Ben reveled in her radiance. Boy did she glow. Her skin flushed with a sparkling vitality, never seen before in her child face and the long black waves surrounding her face waltzed in the breeze as if the tresses lived and breathed on their own. Unwavering feral eyes, embers left behind in a doused campfire blazed as she watched him with fervent interest. So alive, so ravenous she appeared as she stared at the pulse throbbing in his ravaged throat. She would devour him if he did not stop her now! "No, CJ, no more. You cannot. I can't take it. Do you understand? Not tonight.” Ben tried to sit up, but found to his horror that weakness and the slight weight of CJ's body across his abdomen prevented him from moving at all. "Let me help.” She threw her leg over him to climb off his stomach and kneel beside him. She wrapped her dainty hands around his upper arm and pulled. "No, Brat. I don't want your help.” His surly response didn't dissuade her in the least. CJ continued to pull on his arm and though she managed to make his shoulder pop like a champagne cork, she couldn't lift his dead weight.

"Stop acting like such a...” She hesitated, searching for the proper name to call him. “Stop acting like such a male.” What an adult looking sneer she painted on her face. Ben snorted. “Like you know so much about how a male acts.” He expected a smart-ass retort but CJ disappointed him by not reacting at all. Composed as the adult she pretended to be, she waited, still kneeling beside him even though the granite had to hurt her bare knees. So she wore no pants, what a surprise. At least the brat had the forethought to throw a t-shirt and shoes on before she hunted him down. Sighing with feigned maturity she sat down, her legs crossed Indian style, and rubbed her knees with her palms, looking for a moment at the imprint the granite left in her flesh before she lifted her gaze once more to him. Her eyes traveled from his feet, up his legs to his groin and flat stomach, his chest and arms, then back to his face. Ben felt the heat from her brazen gaze, a warmblooded furry creature crawling over his body, his naked body. CJ had never studied him like that. She even arched one eyebrow as she examined his groin area! "I am not a child anymore, you know." "I beg to differ, young lady. You are very much a child.” His answer sounded stilted and prudish but he didn't know what else to say. I beg to differ? Oh my word, what a jackass. Why did he seem to make an ass of himself every time he faced Chaos? Embarrassment gave him added strength and he managed to prop himself up on his elbows, resting for a moment then pushing his cumbersome body up to a sitting position. Much better to face the youngster this way as opposed to lying there vulnerable and flat on his back. Now to keep her talking so she would stop devouring him with her eyes. "So, CJ, why do you think you're not a child any more? Can you tell me?" She stared at him like he had just sprouted bright orange antennae. "What possessed you to follow me out here and, um, attack me like this? You know that I could very well have hurt you so bad that you died. Don't you know this CJ? Don't you know how dangerous it is for you to be outside the house, alone like this?" No answer. She stared back at him and chewed on her bottom lip until a drop of blood appeared. Her tongue snaked between her lips and slid across the oozing spot. "Mmmmm.” She purred and her eyes closed as she tasted the blood on her tongue. "Cut that out Brat. I would pop you one if you hadn't already crippled me like this.” Even though his strength grew by the minute, he still felt as weak as a newly hatched chick. He needed to feed and soon. "Aww, poor Ben.” She laughed and stuck out her lip in a silly pout. But then her expression changed as a thought crossed her mind. She looked at him in an odd way, a question plain there in her eyes, but she didn't want to ask it. Chaos cocked her head to the side as she examined his mouth then glanced down to her own wrist. His mouth watered and his pulse quickened as he realized the question she wanted to ask. "Do you...” She lifted her arm, an offering to the gods, and held her wrist close to his face. He inhaled, loving the light baby soft scent she wore and the underlying fragrance of her spicy blood mixed with his own, as it flowed just beneath the surface of her skin. Hot, tantalizing nourishment. He needed it and wanted it even more so. He held her arm in his hands, brought it to his mouth and kissed her throbbing pulse then lowered her arm down to her lap and patted the back of her hand. "Thanks for the offer, CJ, but I will not sink my fangs into your delicate young flesh.” Her face crumpled with disappointment and it tore at his heart. "No, no dearest little one. Don't be upset, please try to understand. I will allow you to drink from me any time you need me, but I

would die before I would defile you with my tainted bite.” He touched his fingertips to her chin and lifted her face so he could look into those big, russet, doe eyes and let her know that everything he said, he meant. "You are everything that is pure and good to me and I cherish that. I love you with all my heart, Chaos, and nothing will ever change that. Do you hear me?" "I hear you, Benjamin.” From the gloom beyond the boulders, came the voice of his creator. Ah, a warm blanket in the most terrible blizzard, a life raft in the middle of the turbulent sea, safety and home, all in that simple sentence. Ben had to take several deep breaths to hold back the grateful tears that threatened to sneak past his eyelashes. Chaos scrambled even closer to him, molding herself to his side and stared out into the darkness to see the owner of that voice. "Dad?” Her little voice squeaked. Ben whipped his head back to her, amazed that she sounded embarrassed. Chaos, the actress, never let on that she felt the least bit uncomfortable about anything, even when Colin caught her in the act! "Yes, Chaos it is I, and your mother is also present.” Colin moved closer, into their line of vision. Joanna walked with him, picking her way through the cactus and loose rocks with painstaking care. Colin leapt to the top of the boulder with a single effortless bound and loomed over Ben and CJ, his arms crossed in front of his chest, mouth set in a grim line. Much to his relief, Ben knew that Colin's censure was not for him this time for he had done nothing wrong, indeed, nothing that could even be construed as wrong. This time, he did the right thing and it felt wonderful. But, he must protect CJ even from her own father. "Colin ... Creator, she can't help herself. I'm sure she meant no harm.” He tried to maneuver his awkward, weakened body to place himself between Colin and Chaos but found that he still didn't have the strength to move much. His arms trembled with the exertion of trying to budge his unresponsive lower half and he collapsed in a disgraceful, boneless heap. "Chaos Janelle, what have you done?” Colin never raised his voice. He didn't need to. His hushed words, spoken with such restraint, still worried his daughter. Ben felt her body tremble the moment Colin said her name, and then she jumped away from him as if he had just transformed into a giant cockroach, a creature she loathed. Towering over them, Colin intimidated with little effort. A look from him could wither Ben's innards. His pale face, the shade of white rose petals, caught the starlight as he turned his head from Ben to Chaos and back again. Shadows for eyes, such frightening intensity in the depths of those dark abysmal portals. Colin leaned down to him, his brows wrinkled with worry, and placed his hand against Ben's forehead. The softest touch, concern in that caress. Ben said nothing, indeed he ceased to breathe as Colin's long fingers slid along his forehead, moving the hair that had fallen over his left eye and pushing the errant lock out of his face. "You are cold and clammy, Benjamin. You have lost far too much blood.” Colin's murmur made him tingle, sending chills down his arms and legs. Ben didn't understand why the chills wracked his body, but every time Colin's gaze swept over his face he felt the rash cover his body once more. An invasion of icy compassion! Colin shook his head as if he could not believe his eyes and sighed. Then as he shifted his gaze to Chaos his expression changed, his entire demeanor changed. Before Colin could utter a word to her CJ jumped to her feet, terror propelling her to get away as fast as she could. She scrambled to slide off the boulder, scraping her bare stomach on the rock as her shirt slid up to her armpits. Why didn't she just jump? He had no clue. Maybe her legs would not hold her weight. It seemed to be the case since she stumbled as she tried to run from her father. Colin waited a moment, watching her like an entomologist studying a new insectivorous subspecies under glass. Then he sprang into action, a dark superhero flying through the air to rescue a damsel in distress. Colin leapt from the boulder and caught CJ before she hit the ground, his arms wrapped around her narrow waist. Ben watched CJ's face as her father trapped her in his embrace. She winced and pulled against those arms of iron. She didn't appear frightened any longer, no that stubborn set to her mouth and the way she drew her eyebrows together—she looked angry!

"Let me go!” She shouted at her father as she kicked and squirmed in his grasp. Ben couldn't believe the self-control Colin showed. He didn't flinch, didn't say a word to her but he refused to release her even as she kicked back with her heels and struck his shins. "I'm not a child! You can't control me!” CJ's face flushed a vivacious pink with her ineffective struggling and obvious frustration. "Oh, but I can.” His answer, quiet and calm, but she froze and Ben saw the bright color fade from her cheeks. Amazing the effect Colin's voice had on those he elected to share it with. When he started a sentence with ‘Oh but...’ it guaranteed compliance, no matter who he spoke to. Hmm, Ben thought he would try using that line sometime too, though without Colin's superiority behind the words, it may not be the same. "CJ, what is wrong with you?” Joanna moved to stand in front of her daughter as she questioned her. She bent to her level so she could look into CJ's haunted eyes. "Honey, what is it? Why did you do this to Ben and why are you acting so strangely?” Joanna stood back up, put her hands on her hips and looked around, first at Colin, then at Ben and then back down to Chaos. "Why are we all acting so strangely, Chaos? I know it has to do with you. It's something with you." CJ's face crumpled again. "No, no, I didn't mean that you did it on purpose honey, I'm just sure we are all affected by your, um, your.... “She hesitated, searching for the proper way to say it without hurting her daughter's delicate feelings. "It's your change that is doing this to us all. We are behaving in odd ways, all of us.” She met Colin's gaze, her eyes wide with an unspoken question. He nodded to her, a slight dipping of his head as he agreed with her observation. Ben watched the drama unfold almost as if he watched strangers from a distance, an interaction watched from outside his zone of familiarity and the remoteness grew by the moment. His head rolled on the boulder, his neck made of rubber, and he noticed how dim the stars had become. They burned out as he watched! The world would come to an end soon as the darkness closed in. "Benjamin.” Someone called his name, a faint call trickling through his stuffy head. Why were they so far away? Where did everybody go? "Chaos, you will not run. Do you understand me?” Colin released her but placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Listen to me, child. If you so much as move from this spot, you will be punished, and I do mean severely." Her lips parted as she began to speak. He lifted his hand and she cringed, but he only held his finger in her face and spoke. "Ah. Ah. Do not say a word. Just wait here so I can repair the damage you have done.” He moved to step around her and go to Ben, then stopped again and cocked his head to stare into her eyes. "We will talk about this later." CJ gulped, but she kept her mouth shut and dropped her chin to her chest to avoid his forceful glare. Colin glanced over her to shake his head back and forth to Joanna, the firm set to his mouth showing his earnestness and then he looked back down at their errant child before he moved to tend to Ben. Smelling Ben's blood on CJ's breath had almost pushed him over the edge but he maintained his composure and did not strike her ... yet. When he saw his neophyte, the blonde-haired sacrificial lamb, lying unconscious on top of the granite boulder, thoughts of striking CJ boiled to the surface again. The boulder, just like the sacred mound in the Amazon! Bad enough that Ben had been sliced open by those ancient peoples of the jungle but to be drained by Colin's own daughter! He knew that Ben permitted her to drink from him even though she attacked him and by the looks of the wounds on his throat, she attacked him with a savageness he couldn't

even imagine in her young soul. Ben did not lift a hand to protect himself and he could have tossed the girl away from him with ease and replenished his weakened body by taking back what Chaos stole from him. He did neither, even when she shoved her wrist in his face. Colin saw her do that as he and Joanna walked up on the two of them. He knew now, without a doubt, Benjamin could be trusted with his daughter under any circumstances despite what Joanna said to the contrary. Kneeling beside Ben's shoulders, Colin gazed down on his ashen face. White blonde eyelashes, invisible most of the time, stood out now against his washed out complexion and feathered across his cherubic cheeks like fine-spun gold. Colin imagined that Ben's heart would be that same color of gold. Yes, it had to be after his gallant actions with young Chaos. The corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the slight rise and fall of Ben's chest with each breath. He did not appear to be in mortal danger, but very weak. Colin pricked the end of his index finger on his pointed canine and placed the bleeding digit on Ben's colorless lips, smearing his healing blood into the tiny fissures until Ben's body absorbed the blood and screamed for more. Colin watched the piercing fangs creep into place beneath Ben's lip as he quickened and cracked his lids, the baby blues showing through his quivering lashes. Colin smiled down at his beloved pupil, showing his fang teeth in the wide-toothed grin. "I have something for you." Unequaled power in Colin's simple, tender words. Ben opened his eyes farther to see Colin's wrist held before him, the blue veins bulging like lush ripe fruit about to fall from the tree and burst on the soft ground beneath. He opened his mouth wide and bit into the fruit Colin offered. The revitalizing juice flooded his scorched throat with raw energy and forced his dehydrated cells to regenerate in a flash of ecstasy and tingling pain—exquisite torture. In moments he had the strength to rise and Colin helped him sit up. He allowed Ben to savor a few more swallows of his life restoring blood before he eased his wrist away and rested his hand on his shoulder. He gave Ben a comforting squeeze and moving as slow as cold molasses, Colin stood and turned to face Joanna and Chaos. Studying his daughter's blank expression, he found his anger growing once again. CJ stood there, straight and tall, her chin jutting out, her arms crossed in front of her chest, meeting his gaze with the boldness of a lioness. What a change she had gone through in just the few minutes he took to revive Benjamin. She drew strength by standing with her mother. She must think that Joanna would stand with her, against him. He almost laughed out loud. "Joanna.” Colin called out in a falsetto tone. He crooked his finger, beckoning for her to come to him then he jumped to the ground. Joanna met him as he landed and stood beside him. They faced their daughter as a united team and CJ's bravado shriveled, as if he had just poured salt on her wounds—a slug dissolving, with salt on her wounds. "And now, Chaos Janelle, it is time for your punishment."

Eight "You should have left the child with me.” Linnea's whisper grated across his mind, hooking bits of flesh and tearing it to shreds. Colin whipped around, one direction then the other, looking for her in the surrounding landscape. Nothing there. Linnea played the phantom again and he hated it. Damn her for rubbing it in and damn her for being right. Linnea's needling only increased his irritation and he shook with anger as he turned again to his cowering daughter. Hands trembling, teeth grinding together as he sawed his chin back and forth, he advanced on her, intent on showing her the meaning of obedience and respect and keeping her teeth to herself. CJ's bottom lip trembled and a heartrending sob stopped him in his tracks. Chaos rarely cried. She prided herself on being mature and in control of her emotions. Even as an infant she rarely fussed. A sudden flashback entered his troubled mind. He saw her as a broken hearted five-year-old child, her chubby little arms wrapped around a bloody calico lump of fur. Proof of her valiant struggle, leaves and pine needles stuck in her lopsided pigtails and dirt smudges on her cheek—cheeks streaked with the lines of tears that flowed from her swollen eyes. Incredible torture. He would rather be stabbed himself than see his daughter in that much pain, ever again. Her face contorted and the only word she could squeeze out of her clenched throat ... “Dad.” He never asked her what happened to the cat because he couldn't bear to refresh her pain by mentioning it. He knew though that his little daughter had tried to save Patches, and lost. As if CJ knew where Colin's mind drifted, she spoke to him now in that same strangled voice and that same mournful solitary word. “Dad." His chest imploded, the organs within desiccated, red grapes left on the vine too long in the cruel summer sun. The need to punish CJ, to show her his power and teach her the respect she lacked, withered like those long forgotten raisins. How could he think of punishment when all he wanted to do, all he could do—hold her in his arms, give comfort, and not add to her pain? Gathering her quaking body to him, he held her, consoled her without spoken words, no speech necessary to convey these powerful sentiments. His love surged through the tender embrace and he knew that the parent-child relationship had ended and a new bond formed to take its place. Chaos, no longer a child, would always be his child even though she possessed the body of a young woman, and the maturity of the most powerful centenarian. Colin felt the change in her body as her muscles tensed and knew that she wanted to push away. He relaxed his hold on her and she stepped back just enough so that she gazed into his eyes. Her tears lingered on the fringe of her generous lashes but she maintained control far beyond her years—even though he saw in her eyes that her heart ached to the bottom of her soul. How different from the defiant teen he faced just moments before. "I'm sorry that I hurt Ben.” She glanced over to where Ben now stood, brushing the dirt from his denim slacks. She sighed and lifted her gaze once more to meet Colin's. "Yes, father, I'm very sorry that I hurt Ben. In my defense though, I must tell you something that I have hidden from you and Mom for years." Colin felt his heart plummet to his bowels. His imagination ran wild, stampeding through his veins with fearful vengeance. Horrible images. Dreaded consequences. He wanted to clamp his hand over her mouth before she could say something that would devastate her life and his as well. Joanna's ragged gasp indicated that she felt the same way about CJ's upcoming confession but he could not turn to comfort her, could not acknowledge her at all while his own intestines broiled with anxiety. Anger crept over him and overcame his apprehension. Anger at the watery weakness in his knees, anger that he might appear less of a centenarian and more the maudlin human father persona. He would not! Colin straightened his spine, squared his shoulders and prepared to face his daughter's secret with his typical show of unequaled control. "Oh please Dad, it isn't that big of a deal." Whatever she meant by her quip, it did not ease his tension in the least. On the contrary, her flippant tone of voice put him even more on edge. Her quick intake of breath proved that CJ noted his disapproval though how she missed it before, he did not

understand. How could his child not be more astute and aware of the emotion she evoked in those around her? It seemed she moved through life this past week with her eyes closed unless it benefited herself and only herself. Could this be the start of the dreaded teenaged years? He cleared his throat with a deep exasperated rumble, an unspoken prompt for her to continue. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he squeezed his biceps then let his hands drop back to his sides. He loathed the defensive posture that to him signaled a weakness of character and he would not stand in front of his offspring with his arms crossed, even though he felt the need to be doing something with his hands. Joanna slipped her fingers into his palm and he squeezed her icy digits with gentle pressure and released them to hold her delicate hand in his as if they hiked though a city park, betrothed young people without a care. Just like his mate to know instinctively when he needed her, even for such a small thing. "I know you two are not going to believe me so I don't know why I even feel I should try.” Chaos stared at the ground between them as she spoke and moved her bare feet back and forth in a nervous shuffle that made Colin wince as the rocks tumbled beneath her vulnerable soles. "Please do go on, honey.” Joanna's request surprised him. She had not spoken a word since her appeal to CJ about the change and the effects it seemed to have on them all. "Well...” CJ hesitated, searching for words. “I don't know where to start. I don't know how to start. I guess at the beginning, but I just don't know where the beginning is. It has been like this always. I have been like this always.” CJ's voice had reached her highpitched whining level and Colin fought the urge to drop Joanna's hand and cover his ears. If not for the seriousness of the current situation he would do just that, not only to protect his sensitive hearing but also to taunt Chaos. "Calm yourself, young one. Words always come easier if you are not trying to corral your stampeding thoughts at the same time." "Huh?" Her puzzled look irritated him. His words made perfect sense. "Never mind, just try to speak slowly and clearly.” He answered with far more composure than he felt inside. He wanted to grab her now and shake her until she told him this infernal secret that she thought would help explain her current inexcusable behavior. His short period of patience had ended and he allowed his scowl to show on his face. A frown could soon become his permanent expression. CJ frowned back at him, a perfect mimicry of his own down-turned lips and crinkled brows. His child's face, a looking glass for his own features. "Listen father, this isn't easy for me. I've spent a lifetime hiding these episodes from you but apparently, it is too late for hiding now." "Yes, apparently, it is." "Dad!” Hands on her narrow hips, she glared at him, then her face crumpled. With her eyes, rounded and wet with unshed tears, she begged him to stop mocking her, for that is what he did with his stinging little retort. Her gazed drifted to Joanna and back to him and Joanna seemed more touched by their daughter's frustration than he because she tightened her grip on his fingers to the point of pain, for a scant moment, then released him. "Please do go on, I will not comment again. No—I will try not to comment again.” At least he did not lie to his daughter. He would make his best effort to keep his mouth shut. She dropped her hands and her stance went from belligerent to beaten with a simple movement of her slender arms and a decided slump to her bony shoulders. Defenseless, deflated, a dejected misfit posed before him, but it seemed she still held his heart on a platter before her and stood ready to devour it should he not snatch it back quick enough. This tiny being whom, in his mind, just

yesterday, cried from the cradle for her parents to hold her in their arms. "This is too hard, can we just go home and start over? Sit down in the den, maybe?” CJ pleaded with her strained features at the same time. "Wonderful idea, yes let's do that, okay Colin?” Joanna spoke before he had a chance to even think it over and of course, it did make sense. Why stand out here to listen to their daughter's wild tales when they could be in the comfort of their own den. Yes, of course it made sense but he wanted to be the one to make the decision! "Do not think for one moment, young lady, that you are going to weasel out of your punishment. I will listen to your confession, I promise you that, but I make no guarantees about the outcome for this evening." **** Shock. Her chest heaved and she stared back at him as if he had only just this minute appeared before her. Ah ha. So his young one had thought to escape being punished! What a pity. Ben appeared behind CJ and signaled for his attention with a small wave of his hand. Colin lifted his chin in acknowledgement and nodded his head when Ben pointed into the wilderness and lifted his eyebrows to show that he needed to go out now and replenish himself. Communication with Benjamin posed no problems at all, but with his own flesh and blood—well, she might as well be from another planet. So frustrating! Such an intelligent and crafty being, but talking to her, getting an answer or an explanation out of her, easier to shove his head in a lion's mouth. He imagined that the lion would listen to him more readily than his daughter would. "Let us make our way back home now.” He lifted his left hand to CJ, palm up, an offering for peace, at least for now. She examined his fingers for a moment then lifted her own trembling hand to place it in his. He held Joanna and CJ's hands as they walked with careful steps over the rough terrain to get back to the house. The wilderness felt close, comforting to him as it surrounded him with the sounds and smells of the hill country. No sooner than the thought ‘all is well’ had crossed his mind then he caught the unmistakable aura of another blood seeker drifting to him from the nearby hills. A chill passed through his body and he would almost swear that he felt hands wrap around his ankle as if they wanted to trip him. He shook his leg and the sensation disappeared. "Colin.” Joanna whispered and tugged at his arm. "Yes, I know." The trio stopped, waiting to see if the intruder meant them harm. Colin bristled, his muscles tensed, ready to defend his family and destroy this blood seeker for invading his territory. He glanced at Joanna and CJ to see the same anxiety mirrored on Joanna's features but a delighted smirk tugging at CJ's lips. He did not have time to find out what she seemed so happy about now, but he would not forget. How could she seem so happy for the diversion when her life could be in danger, very real danger? He gritted his teeth, his irritation growing by the moment until he heard the deep rumble of laughter carried on the breeze off the hills. "I swear, Colin. You are more prickly than these damned cacti that you choose to live among." More gentle laughs. "And why would I think you would be happy to see me?" Relief washed over him like a tingling summer shower, calming his tense, strained muscles and easing the pressure inside his chest. "Milo.” Colin smiled as his long time friend entered his field of vision. How could he not smile seeing Milo, the perfectionist, with his bright red gold hair a mass of tangles and windblown mayhem? "Traveled far, have you?” Genuine affection in his voice. They moved toward each other and embraced, pounding the other on the

back before they bounced apart again to grin like two adolescent boys up to no good. "You know, when I heard the siren call, I just knew it had to be you.” Milo laughed. “Well not you exactly, but had to be somehow entwined with you, the woman magnet you have proven yourself to be." Colin studied Milo's features, searching for anything other than goodwill and friendship, praying the entire time that he would not find censure of any kind. All he saw, all he wanted to see—the red gold beard, trimmed and tidy as he had always worn it, deep golden brown eyes, twinkling with merriment and the dusting of freckles across his cheeks that gave him the false appearance of being very young. Very false indeed since Milo had more years under his belt than Colin and Ben combined. But now Milo stared at Chaos, his interest blossoming by the second as he tilted his head and let his curious gaze drift back to Colin then return to the now fidgeting young Chaos. Colin knew that Milo had discovered the source of the siren's call and he did not know how to react. The last thing he wanted to do was fight Milo. He did not even know if he could win a fight with Milo. But he sure would not give up his daughter without a fight, to anyone. Milo waited, the epitome of a polite gentleman, for an introduction. By the sudden saturation of menace in the air, he didn't think that goading Colin would be a good idea, though he sure wanted to. He could tell as soon as he glanced at this young woman that she grew from Colin's loins. No mistaking that since she could pass for his feminine twin. He could not feign ignorance in this case. Joanna, the mate to his lucky friend moved closer to the young one and her body screamed back off with its defensive posture. He didn't know whether to be embarrassed or offended by the need these two felt to protect this charming little lady from him. "Please, I intend no harm.” Milo looked to Colin. The pleading in his expression more proof of his intentions than his words could ever be. "I can see that this is your daughter, Colin. I would not dream of touching her.” Neither parent would answer him and he shifted from one foot to the other, so uncomfortable that he wished he'd never stepped foot off the plane. Chaos wiggled away from her mother and stepped forward, holding her hand out to him as she spoke. “It is nice to meet you, Milo." Stunned, he stared at her offered hand like she tried to hand him a wriggling spitting cobra. Before he could stop himself he stepped back, so that she couldn't get close enough to touch him. Her song, her siren's song screamed at him through her angelic voice and her tender, innocent words. Just a wee neophyte, this one, but she had the call of a full-grown woman, no doubt. Trouble, trouble, trouble. Milo didn't know if even he could resist her for long despite his friendship with her father and despite his honorable intentions. He took another step back and stumbled on something, a dainty little foot... He spun about, an apology on his lips but then when he met her eyes, he grew dizzy. Linnea! The woman of his dreams! Trying to steady himself, he reached for something ... anything, and ended up sticking his hand right on the barrel of a large thorny cactus. Bumbling human mannerisms and bloody hands—all he had to greet her with. He wanted to just slink away now and lick his wounds but she would have none of it. "Colin, where are your manners? Why don't you invite your friend here, back to the house?” Linnea injected innocence into her question, nauseating courtesy that dripped from every syllable. Without waiting for Colin to open his mouth, she moved to hook her arm through Milo's and smiled up at him. His knees buckled, but she held him up with impressing ease. Fire raced down his arm where her skin touched his and he thought for one horrifying moment that he would faint. At a loss, he looked to Colin for help, but his friend only smirked back at him and arched one eyebrow as he stared down at Milo's feeble knees trembling beneath his slacks. That smirk helped him gain his strength though and with a deep breath, he steadied himself and tried to smile back down at the tiny but immensely powerful and very sensuous woman at his side. He managed to lift one corner of his mouth, but his throat had gone so dry that he felt a desperate need to cough and when he tried to suppress it, he spiraled into a humiliating coughing fit that ended with a drunken hiccup and an even more humiliating belch.

Colin and Joanna burst into laughter, roaring at him to the point of tears rolling down their cheeks. Joanna had fallen to her knees, holding her stomach and Colin tried to help her up, but his own raucous laughing made him too clumsy to assist her. Milo felt the flaming heat in his cheeks and if ever any blood seeker had burst into flames, he would be the one, right here, right now. He didn't think he could bear their ridicule another moment and he turned his back to them, only to see Linnea standing there, hand over her mouth as she fought to keep from laughing at him as well. For crying out loud, even the young one giggled! He decided then that any semblance of the suave sophisticated character that he wanted to portray had been slain with all the hilarity and his hearty laugh joined theirs. "So glad I could amuse you all this evening.” Milo bowed first to the tearful family, then to his dream woman, Linnea. In a show of chivalry and good-natured acquiescence he held out his elbow to Linnea and waited for her to take his arm. This time his knees didn't tremble, even though he still felt the same nervousness around her as before. How could he not feel more comfortable with the jovial ambiance in this omnipotent family? Just a few minutes ago he felt sure that they were all ready to eat his liver for lunch. Good that his bumbling silliness over a mere woman had changed all that. Oh but this was no mere woman! If she only knew how many times he dreamed of lying on top of her naked body, pounding into her with wild abandon. Of course as soon as she touched him—as soon as her slim fingers grazed his skin, those dreams popped into his head. "Milo, my charming friend, would you care to join us at our home?” Colin now acted like a perfect host. He stood now, in control of himself once more though Colin still grinned as if he couldn't look at him without laughing again. Milo couldn't remember ever seeing Colin laugh in the past. Hmmm. It didn't strike him as that damned funny, not at all. But then again, he never found himself the object of ridicule before, though he often made sure others did. Perhaps he would refrain from that behavior from now on. He noticed that Colin and the others awaited his answer so he cleared his throat, stood as straight as he could, his shoulders squared and without dropping Linnea's arm he turned to face them, the hyenas. "That would be lovely, thank you.” He flashed them a cordial smile and a dignified bob of his head. Linnea slid her arm out of his grasp and he almost moaned in anguish until she slid her bird-like fingers into his big hand and tugged, leading the way to the house. He followed, his eyes glued to the swaying mane of shimmering black that hung down past her waistline. Colin pushed CJ with a light touch in the small of her back to force her ahead of him. He could not trust her and he wanted to keep a close eye on the little troublemaker. Her sly grin earlier when she could very well have been in extreme danger, annoyed him. The child had no common sense. She still expected him to forget her punishment and Milo's appearance had delighted her. A distraction so Dad will not focus on her. Ha! She underestimated him yet again. If she thought he would forget that she came very close to killing Benjamin, well she had a huge shock coming. He could laugh with gusto at his best friend in the blood seeker society and still not forget his daughter and her misdeeds. No one spoke as they hiked back to the house and as they drew near, Linnea tugged poor Milo around to her private entrance while Colin unlocked the kitchen door. He caught a quick glimpse of the surprise on Milo's face, his eyebrows so far up that they were just about at his hairline, before Linnea pulled him around the corner with her. Colin wondered if he should be concerned for his friend's safety, but he felt sure that the older centenarian could hold his own, if he could maintain his wits, that is. After his earlier antics, Colin had doubts as to whether Milo could control himself around Linnea at all. Yes, it seemed he just had to have faith that Linnea would not harm Milo. Colin opened the door and stepped aside to let Chaos and Joanna enter the house. CJ hesitated, as if an invisible force field prevented her from entering. "Do you really think it matters if you are inside or out? Do you not realize that I could reach you in a flash, before you even have time to react? Out here...” He paused to lift his arm and point into the kitchen, “...in there—anywhere. I tire of this. Either come inside now or face my wrath here, your decision." She needed no further prompting and she rushed past Colin and kept running until she reached the den. CJ flung her flushed body into the corner chair farthest from the door, away from the rest of the furniture so maybe she could avoid being too close to her irritated father. It seemed hopeless, escaping him, but she had to try anything to minimize his fury. She didn't like this at all. He had

always been easy on her, quick to defend her actions and forgiving of her transgressions, but not this time. He followed, his aura preceding him into the room like the last dry moments before a terrible storm, the current in the air turning the tiny hairs on her body into rigid electrified sentinels. She could swear that she felt the breath as it left her father's body, hot against her face and he stood across the den from her! Menacing, invincible, her father and he could strike a chord of terror in anyone with no more than a steady look. CJ knew she shared many physical characteristics with him but as she stared back at him through her concealing curtain of hair, she wondered if she could ever look that overbearing. "Get your hair out of your face, CJ.” Joanna entered the room and chose a place to sit on the sofa. Graceful and elegant as any royalty, her mother folded herself onto the fat blue cushion and for a moment it seemed that the huge couch had swallowed her. Joanna kicked her shoes off and pulled her feet up to sit Indian style on the couch. If CJ put her feet on the furniture she got in trouble! "CJ! I told you to get your hair out of your face!” She noticed that her mother's mouth barely moved even though she had spoken loud enough to hear her upstairs. Joanna's full lips turned down in a frown as she waited for CJ to do as she demanded. Yes, always demands, all she expected, more and more demands. Do this, do that, a racket in her head drowning out the memories of the other life, the other time, when nobody told her what to do and when to do it. She broke her trance and pushed her hair over, tucking it behind her ears before she looked back up at her parents. Why would Dad not sit down also? He paced to and fro in the middle of the room, glancing at her, then the floor as if the answers to all his questions could be found in the braids of the rug. "Dad?” A tremor broke her thin voice. He stopped his pacing and watched her, waiting to hear the rest of her question. With his gaze boring a hole in her face, her throat constricted and couldn't draw breath, much less speak another word to him. Instead she gazed at his arms as they hung down at his sides, lifeless instruments of death and despair, torture and punishment. She could only imagine what those hands could do if he chose to use them against her. His formidable hands, pale in comparison to his jet-black jacket and colorless midnight slacks, she felt those hands tearing at her flesh, hands like hooks, like talons! She squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out the horror, real or imagined, then she opened them and saw just her father's hands, genteel, manicured hands. "Are you ready to tell us your tale, young lady?” His voice cut through her, making her pulse race despite the quiet manner in which he spoke. "Or—are you ready for your punishment instead?” Same quiet voice but his words this time made her blood run cold. Ice raged through her veins shredding her remaining composure with frigid fingers of terror. Gasping for air, she peered up at him, mutely begging for mercy. His gaze locked with hers, intense black eyes to match his mood. He said nothing, and then, to her surprise he turned on his heel and moved away to sit on the sofa beside Joanna! She could inhale again and fill her lungs with air. CJ sucked in several long breaths and exhaled before she managed to gain control of her rampaging adrenaline laced body. She could do this, it needed to be done and she would no longer be forced to hide her true self from her parents. Yes, she could do this. Chaos cleared her throat and took another drag of calming air before she lifted her eyes to her expectant parents. She should stand and face them but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, her knees trembled and dissolved into elbow macaroni. She decided to stay seated. "You see...” She stuttered and had to start over. “You see—I'm not really your daughter."

Nine "WHAT?” Joanna screamed at CJ before she choked on her own saliva and cut off any further exclamations she wanted to screech at her deluded child. Colin sprang from the sofa, ignoring his gasping, choking mate and crossed the shrinking room to stand before the quaking young woman who just announced that she was not his daughter. Hands on his hips, he glared down at her, furious at her but at the same time curious about her outrageous statement. "I beg your pardon?” Such refined speech, a gentlemen begging for another chance, another sentence from the lady in question. No malice in that voice but no love either. Chaos shivered. She thought for a brief moment that she would prefer that he rant and rave at her then at least she would know for sure how he felt. This way, she had no inkling of her father's true sentiments, what went on inside the commanding being who stood a mere arm's length from her. His tremendous omnipotence splashed over her, soaking her with an innate fear, that inborn need for selfpreservation that quickened her pulse and tensed the muscles throughout her body as they screamed for her to fight or flee! CJ wanted to be anywhere but here, in this room with him. She would not meet his eye, she couldn't if her life depended on it and the way she felt at this moment, it did! All he said was ‘I beg your pardon'. Ridiculous how she reacted to that simple question, that simple question beseeching her to repeat herself and nothing more. She would have to speak and now before her parents grew even more irritated with her. "I didn't mean it like it sounded.” CJ didn't want to wound them, the people whom she loved so much that it hurt, but this was something she had to get off her chest, and now. "Like I said, I am not really your daughter. I mean, I am your daughter but I am also somebody else, someone much older.” CJ stared at Colin's shiny black shoes as they moved away and she looked up to watch him seating himself beside Joanna once more. He almost seemed to be in shock but the control he practiced, the raw discipline that surged through his very veins, kept him from uttering another word. Joanna cleared her throat, and spoke up for them both. “Please do go on, Chaos." Her mother's tender words prompted her and she let it all spill out. "For as long as I can remember, even as a baby, I have lived with these memories. Not dreams, no, actual memories of another lifetime long, long ago. I lived in a cave with other members of my clan." She stopped when she heard the quick intake of breath from her mother. "What is it, Mom?” She squirmed to the edge of her chair, eager now to hear what her mother wanted to tell her. "I have also had those dreams. I dreamt of living in a cave—and other things. It was long ago.” She hesitated, trying to remember the exact time then another audible gasp issued from her. "I carried you! You, CJ, grew inside of me when I had those dreams. Could this be my fault? Your belief that you are someone else?" "No, mother. That is not the case, I am sure of it. These are not dreams, no they come while I am awake! I feel it all, I know it all like I am there and it is truly me. I know these things because I carry the First Thirst within me. I was there, in that cave, with those men and with that beast that made us all what we are." Chaos stood now, pacing the floor, a perfect parody of her father's earlier behavior. Her confidence grew as she revealed all her hidden secrets, a huge burden lifting from her frail shoulders, rebirth! "I know of things that I have not experienced in this body. Intimate things.” She glanced to Colin and just as she suspected, his

eyebrows had drawn together and she had to cut him off now before his bad humor returned. "I am sorry if this offends you Father for it can't be helped. I tell you these things because they are true. I refuse to hide my former life from you any longer. I have done so for too long as it is. In my first form I did many things, some very enjoyable and some, well, many distasteful things that I would rather forget. But, I can forget nothing. Scenes play in my mind, over and over again and it is like I am there. The blood hunger, the craving for drinking the blood I can't resist and when I took Benjamin, it wasn't me, Dad, I swear to you. It was she, the First Thirst and I fear that I will be lost forever soon and there will be only her." Stunned, they gaped at the young being that strode with such agitation to and fro across the rug as she spat out the words so bitter on her tongue. Colin and Joanna didn't know how to react. Neither one uttered a sound, not a gasp, not a sigh, a grunt, nothing. Silence. Chaos looked to them and stopped her pacing to stand in the middle of the room. Her eyes glazed over and closed as her head fell forward and hung on her limp neck like a lifeless wilted flower after it is yanked from the ground. Long silent moments passed before she stirred, a tiny movement of her arms and then her chin lifted and she stared with blank eyes at the wall behind their heads. "I am now in this vessel, this young virile vessel and I will see how my progeny have progressed.” The voice cracked as it crawled from CJ's lips though it was not CJ who spoke but another, an ancient being. "How can this be? You will leave my daughter at once!” Colin jumped from the couch to stand before her, shaking her by the shoulders as if he could wring this spirit from his child. "Stop! You will not harm this vessel.” Still that ancient voice issuing from Chaos. "This vessel as you so boorishly put it, is my little girl. Leave her!” He tightened his grip on her shoulders until his fingertips turned white and still he did not release her. Joanna found the strength to make her legs move and she dove at Colin to make him let go. "Colin! You're hurting her. You're hurting Chaos!” She pulled on his arm and nothing happened, her tug as effective as if she tried to tear a limb from the mightiest oak in the forest with her bare hands. "Colin!” Joanna touched his face with her frosty fingertips. He let the child go and CJ dissolved into a heap of scrawny arms, legs and a tangled mass of long black hair. She lay there on the floor, twitching, as if she fought to awaken from a terrible nightmare. "What have you done?" Incredulous horror in those four whispered syllables. Joanna wanted to rage at him, scream, kick and shove at him but instead she just stared down at her crumpled child—her broken child. "I have done nothing!” He bent to scoop Chaos in his arms with tender care, his newborn infant once again. He carried her, studying her blanched face as he took the measured steps to the sofa. So young, so fragile, his blood, his child no matter what and he would not lose her now—or ever. As her head touched the sofa pillows, her eyes fluttered open though she did not see. Boiling chocolate churning with angry golden cream formed a whirlpool around her enlarged bottomless pupils. Colin recoiled, releasing her body as if it burned the flesh from his fingers. As he stepped back, her lashes drifted back down to rest on her cheeks once more, a dark slash on colorless skin. "CJ.” Colin whispered, almost to himself instead of directing his voice towards the child. She did not respond. He watched as her narrow chest rose and fell at first with angry heaving breath then began to deepen and change to more normal breathing as she rested. "What are we to do?” Colin lifted his eyes from CJ to her anxious mother. The deep furrows between Joanna's eyes and across her forehead faded as she watched her daughter sleeping, that beloved young face so innocent and peaceful in repose. She ignored his question, and did not even lift her eyes to meet his, but this did not surprise him since she often ignored him even when their child did not worry her. Maybe this possession CJ suffered from was nothing more than a simple part of growing up as a female. The thought crossed his

mind, just for a millisecond, to ask Joanna that same question but his good sense prompted him to keep his smart remarks to himself at this moment. Did he ever need some of Benjamin's off the wall humor about now! Colin had no idea what to do. He loathed that indecision as much as he loathed the entire situation. How would a normal human father react in his place? "Colin? Is everything all right?” Milo stood in the doorway to the den, leaning on the doorframe, his face as pale as the alabaster paint on the wall beside him. His shock of bright red hair stood out like a burning halo around his head and the golden red beard and thin mustache seemed to be floating above that ashen skin instead of growing from it. His head lolled to the side and Colin saw the reason for his pallor in the large purplish bruise on his throat. "Uh, Milo, sorry my friend. I should have warned you about my Creator. She bites." "How can you even think of anything else while your daughter lies here at the very threshold between life and death?” Joanna's irate voice cut through Colin and enraged him as well. His pulse thundered in his ears, blotting out the muttered apology from Milo as he slipped away from the heated pair. How dare she humiliate him like that in front of another centenarian! Whipping his body around to face her, he glared with all the fury he felt and she took a step back, gasping as if he had just kicked her in the chest. The smell of her fright filled the room and aroused his feral tendencies even farther. His nostrils flared and he inhaled with a soft moan, sucking in that terror bouquet and savoring it on the back of his tongue, a connoisseur of fear. His eyes bored into her, never leaving her face and he delighted in the way all the healthy pink color drained from her features. He would have the respect he deserved! "How dare you speak to me that way, woman!” He spoke through clenched jaws, his prominent canines hanging over his bottom lip—sharp ivory daggers designed to tear flesh and devour life. "Dad! Stop it!” CJ's voice rang out, bouncing from wall to wall and against his eardrums. Colin's rage vanished, replaced by utter shame. He needed anger management therapy! How could he become so incensed over a few poorly thought out words from his wife? His head bowed, he could not meet Joanna's eyes now, but he would not apologize to her when she deserved to be punished for her insolence. She knew he would not tolerate disrespect but still she chose to spout off like that in front of Milo. His anger crept over him once again, a merciless march across his frayed nerves. Without lifting his chin from its resting place on his chest, he glared beneath gathered brows at his smirking mate. "Daddd...” For a second time CJ's wheedling voice, calling him back to a cool place, a place without the heat of his terrible temper. “I don't even need to see your face to know that you're glaring at Mom. I beg you to stop. You guys, please don't fight." Ignoring that last dig would be difficult, but he forced himself to let it slide by him. Colin turned on his heel to face the sofa where Chaos now sat up, holding her head in her hands as if the weight of the world were on her thin little shoulders. He eased his body down on the ribbed cobalt cushion beside her, careful not to disturb her dejected posture until he wrapped his fingers around her hands and lowered them to his thigh. "How do you feel, pumpkin?” Silky-smooth delicate speech and he saw the faint smile tickle her lips before she caught herself and bent the corners of her generous mouth back into a frown. Colin watched as she drew in a deep breath and held it, setting her features into a semblance of injured female emotions, yes, certainly preparing to give him a dressing down. Being married to Joanna he saw that preparation far too often. Before she could utter a word, he dropped her hands and clamped his palm over her mouth, startling her so that she didn't even try to pull away or voice her disapproval. CJ stared back at him with wide rounded eyes, waiting for his next move with a maturity he did not know she possessed. "I will let you go, but be warned, young one. I am not in the best of moods so do not push me. Do you understand?” No response other than the now blank stare she gave him. He held his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment then released it and asked again, this time a little louder.

"Do you understand?” She blinked hard, then moved her head in a slight nod of confirmation. Colin released her and she brought her hand to her face and glared at him as she rubbed her lips with her fingertips, showing her censure for his actions with her small defiance but not pushing him too far. He allowed her the little impertinence, choosing to ignore it and maintain peace in the household. "So, I ask you again—how do you feel? Chaos pushed her hair back, away from her face and sighed as she allowed her delicate hands to fall to her lap. It did not appear to him that she hesitated to annoy him, but to compose an honest answer. He glanced up at Joanna as she hovered nearby. She watched the two of them but did not approach. Perhaps she still feared being too close to him, the boar, the beast. "Tired. I am so tired and mixed up.” CJ's young voice small and apprehensive. “I need your support, Dad. I need both of you more than you could possibly know." He placed his left hand over hers, dwarfing her fingers, covering them with his umbrella of protective flesh and bone and nails. She smiled, and looked up from her lap to his face. For a moment it took his breath away, she mirrored his own countenance so. Deep brown eyes staring back at him with steely determination and yes, strength! This power that she kept to herself, but it still seethed through her veins, at her disposal should she feel the need to call upon it. Shocking to see that display in his young, innocent child. He did not think she knew either. No, she had no clue that she possessed such strength. A spark ignited in a brief burst of flame, the fire roared and extinguished with too much fresh air. Her power smoldered now, hidden beneath her sheltering consciousness and only that tiny spark remained, dancing in her ingenuous gaze. Joanna squeezed his shoulder with gentle pressure, prompting him that he should say something—that CJ waited for his response. Colin fought the urge to shake himself to break his own mesmerism. Being trapped in his daughter's eyes seemed almost shameful and in his mind, pathetically weak. He cleared his throat and straightened his spine, then gave her fists a reassuring pat before he eased himself up and stood before her. "CJ.” Colin stopped when she tilted her head back to squint up at him as he towered over her. Not fair of him to make her look up at him as if she were being scolded. He sat back down on the sofa, choosing the end this time so that he could lean on the arm of the coach and appear very non-menacing and relaxed. Intimidation had its place and this was neither the time nor the place. "CJ, your mother and I are always here for you. I want you to understand that.” He beckoned to Joanna to join him and much to his relief she moved to him without hesitation. Colin tapped the couch in front of him and she sat down, an angel drifting down to settle on a cloud, muted and graceful. Pulling Joanna back against his chest, he put his chin on top of her head and watched CJ's grin grow. "What?" Chaos giggled, looking from her mom's face to her Dad's perched there on top of Joanna's dark hair. They both just watched her, baffled expressions on their faces. "Sorry, sorry.” She giggled. Then she sobered and her eyes met Colin's. "I just prefer seeing you two like this, instead of you, Dad, looking like you are about to eat Mom alive.” The silence in the room grew to gigantic proportions, stealing the air from their lungs and filling every nook and corner in the house with thick, agonizing tension. Seconds stretched into eons while they all stared at one another, statues frozen in the apprehension of the moment. Colin felt Joanna stir, the slight, rushed, indrawn breath as she geared up to speak. "Oh, it's not so bad, really.” CJ lifted her eyebrows and then drew them together as she tried to understand what Joanna meant by that cryptic sentence. "You know, being eaten alive by your Dad. It's not so bad.” She laughed then, a soft, short little laugh that reversed the awkward moment and turned their house back into a livable, breathable environment.

"Funny.” Colin said as he pressed down with his chin on top of her head until she squealed. He placed his arms around Joanna's waist and turned his attention back to CJ. "Back to what you were saying, Chaos. I hope you do not believe that we are unaware of your need for our support. We will always be here for you, no matter what. And that goes for your possession, or rebellion or whatever this new persona is that you tried to tell us about earlier." CJ's mouth dropped open and she sputtered. “Whaa...” Her jaw rose and fell as she tried to keep her mouth closed but it continued to fall open as if it had a broken clasp. "How...” She lost her voice. "What...” CJ started again. "I am not possessed!” Chaos at last managed to screech. Her expression wavered between indignant anger and total disbelief as she tried to defend herself and fell flat. "He didn't mean that honey.” Joanna told her before things turned ugly again. “We have always seen you as our little girl so you can imagine, surely you can, how we felt when you told us that you are not our daughter!” She leaned forward, forgetting for a moment that Colin rested his chin on top of her head. Good that he caught himself and didn't bump heads with her. His granite head would hurt her! "We want to understand, really CJ, we do. I for one have a very hard time believing that you are somehow the reincarnation of an ancient being—what did you say, the first thirst?” She waited for a moment but didn't give CJ a chance to formulate her answer before she went on. "It sure appeared to us that you were possessed earlier. You spoke differently and said you were in that vessel! Do you remember?" Chaos broke eye contact and stared off into the next room. She tilted her head to the side, listening to anything, to nothing, all the same and yet different. Colin watched her eyes grow darker and darker still until they were little more than black hollows in a sunken face. "Chaos.” His deep voice made no impression as she stared into the distance. How strange she appeared, an empty shell that seemed to draw in on itself as he watched. She blinked and her body quickened, her heart filling with blood, her lungs with air. This child did not have an ordinary cell in her body. He didn't see her turn her head at all, but she stared right at them, her eyes moving from one parent to the other and back again. "I remember. We are one, she and I. The one who was the first thirst is in me and we are one. I am still me but I remember all from my past. It all comes back to me, bit by bit. I have known this from infancy—that I lived before and that I am the one who made us all what we are.” She smirked back at Colin when she noticed his lip curling. "No, Dad, I am not on some power trip. I can't help that I have an old soul." He shook his head, about to deny that he thought that, but she spoke again before he opened his mouth. "I know it sounds crazy. Why the hell do you think I never told you before? This has always been my burden. I didn't choose it. I would love to be just a normal teenager. But then again, that would never have happened anyway—just look at you two! Look at all of you! Ben, Linnea—oh yeah, how about that? Know anyone else who can shapeshift? So I hardly think that me having the first thirst within me would be a shocker.” She ran out of taunts and questions and her rant fizzled out. Colin drew in a long ragged lungful of air and realized that he had held his breath since her tirade began. He wanted to say something, but he had to choose his words with care so she would not take offense, as she seemed to already have done. "I am sorry, CJ. I do believe you. What you do not understand, little one, is that I will always think of you as my daughter and only

my daughter. I saw you born, and I cut the cord. I know from whence you came.” She cocked her head, puzzled, but she said nothing so he went on. "You are my flesh and blood, I know this to be a fact. You are a part of me and a part of your mother so you see where our reservations lie! For you to say that you are someone else boggles my mind! I know what we are, yes, I understand your complaints there, but you are one of us, are you not?” Colin had been about to continue along that same vein, but CJ's gaze fixed on the doorway to the kitchen and would not leave it. He felt it then, the tumult in his senses, the aura of another centenarian approaching them. Linnea and Milo both appeared in the same doorway that CJ seem fixated on and Colin lifted Joanna to her feet as he gained his own and turned to face the others. So much omnipotence in one room, titillating beyond measure and he enjoyed it more than he expected. "Someone comes.” CJ's trembling words voiced what every one of them already knew. Linnea released Milo's arm and glided to the center of the den, standing close to Colin and Joanna as if she wished to form a united front. Milo stared after her, lost without her support but not wanting to move if she did not wish it. Despite the tension in the air, Colin almost laughed at Milo's obvious hesitancy. The powerful Milo brought to his quaking knees by a tiny woman! Ha! Colin looked down his nose at his comrade, a knowing grin plastered on his face. "Do you need assistance, Milo?” Joanna's fingernails dug into his bare wrist and he pulled away before she could do any more harm and held her in front of his chest. Damned woman. "There is no need for apprehension. Good grief Jo, there are enough of us in this room to take on all but the very oldest of our kind and even one that powerful could not stand against all of us together. Surely you are not fearful for our safety, or that of our child's." He directed his speech to Joanna but the same could be held true for all who stood in his home. Except for the wayward Benjamin, everyone that he held dear stood in this room with him now. The tumult increased with every passing second and his head pounded. Linnea and Milo both felt the same tremor in their pineal sensor. Linnea shook her head back and forth as if she tried to clear away the fog in her brain and poor Milo had moved to the sofa and collapsed in the same spot he and Joanna had occupied just moments before. The tall redhead mashed his forehead with two fingers from his right hand, making indentions in his skin with the pressure he exerted. CJ squirmed as far away from Milo as she could against the arm of the sofa, staring at him the entire time like he had just appeared there out of thin air and she had never before seen him. The creature approaching them now presented him with a mystery. This one possessed infinite strength but yet he did not try to mask his aura or his life signs. Onward he came, a slow and steady hum in Colin's mind. Taking his time, this centenarian, almost as if he wished to make his journey known to everyone before he arrived. Of course, this had to be the case but such a strange behavior that Colin could not believe that to be the reality. "Who is it?” Milo whispered as if he needed to hide his words. No one answered right away, but not because they didn't hear his voiceless question. Joanna shrugged her shoulders and captured CJ's eyes with her intense gaze. "A fool. That's who it is.” Rancor threaded through Joanna's voice, burning and deadly. Colin felt the rage building in her body. Her muscles knotted and quivered beneath his palm as it rested on her shoulder. He squeezed gently, trying to reassure her but she paid him no attention. She stood ready to attack the newcomer and he knew she would do anything to protect CJ even if the match proved imbalanced. Of course this just made things worse for him since he had not only his daughter to protect but his hotheaded wife as well. "I concur.” Linnea nodded her head in agreement. “A fool who forfeits his life by coming here!" "Still boasting and belligerent, I see.” A disjointed baritone voice echoed throughout the den and Colin saw Linnea cringe! She spun on her heel, craning her neck to look into his face.

"We are in trouble now, I am afraid,” she said. "Not too bad, really.” The owner of that baritone voice had made himself welcome and entered Colin's house. The uninvited guest eased into the dwindling room and stood before them, his thick stocky legs spread apart and planted firm on the rug—a sure indication that he did not intend to leave any time soon. Chaos gurgled and choked out an angry shout as she shot off the sofa sending it crashing to the floor and flinging the stunned Milo into the wall. The back of his head hit with such force that it dented the sheetrock and left him in an undignified heap behind the overturned couch. "YOU!” CJ screamed as she pointed her rigid index finger at the newcomer. "You—you murdered me!"

Ten Racing across the loose gravel and treacherous larger rocks, Ben made his way toward the university. He set his mind on finding several warm supple meals to restore him and make him forget the exquisite moment his parched lips locked to Colin's wrist. He reached the city and entered the campus at a slow trot, and then as his feet hit the sidewalk he slowed to a human pace and listened for lone prey. The campus might not give him what he needed tonight. Sounds of merriment sprinkled across the open courtyard as the party goers laughed together and yelled over the beat of the music. Bending over the fountain, he checked his reflection in the rippling water and practiced his most charming smile. Footsteps on the concrete behind him quickened his pulse and his smile grew wider. The appetizer made her way toward his eager embrace! Standing tall, he turned to face her but feigned innocence and acted like he didn't know she approached. Her eyes grew wide when she saw his face but he knew they would. How could she resist such a handsome man? Ben pulled his shoulders back and thrust out his chest, flashing his gleaming white teeth at her but at the same time, careful to hide the sharpest ones from her gaze. He cleared his throat to say something charming but she began to speak before he even formed a word. "You're just what we're looking for.” Sultry seduction slid from her lips. Ben fought to hide his shock. Although he knew his extraordinary charm and extreme good looks proved appealing to any female, he still didn't expect such a statement from her before he had a chance to woo her! "I beg your pardon?" Ben flashed her a lopsided boyish grin. Her smile grew wider still, confusing him even further. What did she want? Well it didn't matter since he would fulfill his own needs with this one. But first, curiosity got the best of him and he allowed her to take his arm and lead him down the path toward the brick building hidden in the shadow of an enormous oak tree. Conscious of every tiny hair on her arm, he reveled in the feel of her soft skin sliding across his as she pulled him along with her arm locked around his elbow. Ah, that scent! Womanly warmth radiated from her body in waves and he closed his eyes and fell, headfirst, into that pit of fragrant sensuality. Stopping at the entrance, she waited as someone within pushed the door open. Several young ladies peered out at him, their eyes roving over his body until he felt naked, stripped of his clothing with their steamy gazes. They wanted something—it seemed they wanted him! A tall, stunning woman separated herself from the others and stepped forward, greeting him with a secretive smile as she placed her hand in his and tugged. "Come on in, lover. We don't bite...” She paused and her companions giggled. “...much." Soft, hesitant laughter from the group. Ben remained firm, not allowing her to pull him inside. She tugged again and her eyes widened when his body turned into a lead weight that didn't move. Her pale gray eyes clouded and she narrowed her gaze and studied him closer. She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue and allowed her gaze to drop to the front of his pants. His sleeping organ stirred beneath the zipper. "You're not gay are you?” She continued to stare at his crotch, and then she nodded as if she answered her own question. Hard to miss the growing bulge beneath his belt, despite the dingy overhead light. "Oh, I see that you aren't gay after all.” Smoldering gray orbs met his and she lifted one eyebrow before she wet her lips again and

squeezed his hand. "Would you like to come in and party? We're a sorority, of sorts and we need your help with our pledges." Ben's swollen sex now pulsed with a life of its own, screaming to be released from the confines of his pants. This time when she pulled at his hand, he allowed her to bring him inside the dark passage. A loud metallic click echoed through the vast entryway as they locked the door and his breath caught in his throat. The girls had all the electric lights turned off. Short, scented candles illuminated the hall from atop small tables scattered throughout the room. Mysterious, the ambience they chose to set in this aged house. Despite his reservations, he found their ritual delightful. The rest of the women followed behind them as they moved toward the immense staircase, their feet shuffling across the bare wood floors with the same hush that permeated the entire building. As they mounted the stairs it seemed their breaths became delicate pants, hearts beating a staccato rhythm that excited him even more. The leader's grip on his hand tightened as they reached the landing. She paused as if to admire the décor and he followed her stare about the room. Enormous, these hallowed halls. Cathedral ceilings with beams big enough to drive a bus over and bookshelves from the floor to the top of those ceilings stood packed with leather bound books of every description. Ben inhaled, loving the smell of that worn leather and the paper within—but also loving that other scent, the one that drove him wild with desire—and hunger. Scattered about the room, an odd assemblage of young women decorated the dim library with vibrant life, a glowing jewel, each one. They stood straight and tall, beaming at him as he entered the room and then he saw the altar, draped with flowing red velvet cloth positioned in the middle of the room. A ring of candles encircled the altar, the meager glow from the flames illuminating it like a distant red star as it entered its last cycle of existence. His erection withered and he jerked his hand from the girl's grip, backing away with a measured step until his back pressed against the bolted door. Ben didn't hear the bolt slide earlier and his unease grew. He should have noticed that, at least. Not like he felt any real danger from this group of young women, but altars had a way of frightening him like nothing else could. His fantasy about multiple scrumptious, willing meals flip-flopped and now he became the main course instead. An ominous chill passed through him but he forced himself to remain calm and in control. Too curious and hungry for any lingering concern, Ben swaggered over to the middle of the room and pressed down on the altar as if he tested a mattress. It gave under his fingertips and relief washed over him, soothing away those icy shards of anxiety. The object in the center of the room may resemble an altar but in truth, a comfy bed loomed before him, beckoning to the only male in the room. With dozens of eyes on him, he turned to look at them one after another. The intensity in those unwavering gazes stirred the beast. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?" His voice flowed, as smooth as the brilliant red spread before him. The women whispered among themselves but no one answered him until his gray-eyed girl entered the circle of candles and placed her hands on his chest, pushing with her fingertips until he bent and sat on the bed. "Words do tend to ruin the mood, but I should tell you about the initiation so you will know what to expect.” She smiled before she went on. “I feel certain you will enjoy yourself immensely." "Oh, I agree.” His answer dripped honey but he smiled just a bit too wide and she noticed the pointed canines. Ah, her turn for discomfort. She backpedaled a bit, confusion and a bit of apprehension staining her tanned features. She didn't want to believe what she saw and he watched her face as she decided that her mind played tricks on her and disregarded what she glimpsed in his mouth. Funny how the thoughts crossed her face as if the words were stamped there! He saw her eyes draw together, the brows puckered and her lips moved as if she would speak but she did not, instead she held her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment then she relaxed.

"He is gorgeous.” A whisper from the darkness. Ben smiled and tried to pick out who said those words. Their faces, for the most part, remained in the shadows now that he sat in the spotlight. The circle of candles gave the only light in the cavernous space, but he picked his admirer out of the crowd anyway. Her face flushed a pretty shade of crimson and she put her head down as soon as she noticed him watching her. He laughed and several of the girls laughed also. The quiet sound of their delicate laughter died and the silence cried out for more. "Your obvious good looks aside, let me explain..." "Sorry to interrupt, but what is your name?" She seemed taken aback by his simple question and he knew she didn't want to tell him. "As a matter of fact, I want to know all of your names. I am Benjamin. You can call me Ben.” When no one said a word, he stood and turned on the ball of his foot in a slow circle, watching them all as their discomfort grew. "I will leave this place unless you tell me your names and what you expect of me.” He paused, looking from face to fresh face, then continued with his speech. "Now.” He spoke with the most authoritative tone he could muster. His stomach growled and he resisted the urge to place his hand on his abdomen. "Caitlin,” said the gray-eyed girl. Then, names poured out of them in rapid succession, names of Greek goddesses and porn stars, ambrosia and alchemy. When again they fell silent Ben bowed, pouring on the charm. "It is nice to meet you, ladies.” He flashed them his most practiced grin and laughed when he heard several gasps. "Glory, where did you find him?" "Shhhhhh. Ladies. Enough. We should explain ourselves to our stallion,” said Caitlin. "Stallion?" "Just a word,” Caitlin said in answer to his single worded query. "Benjamin—Ben.” His name seemed foreign to her but she went on. “We are initiating new members into our group tonight. To prove that our pledges will remain loyal and have nothing to hide from their sisters, we have chosen the most intimate act we can think of for them to display for us. The act of making love." Gasps abounded. The pledges had no clue why Ben sat in their midst until the same moment he found out. Ben's erection returned, a concrete pillar ramming against the inside of his zipper. "We have six pledges. Do you have the stamina for this or did Glory choose unwisely?” Caitlin spoke in little more than a whisper to him but he knew the others heard. They awaited his answer, some holding their breath, some breathing hard and others, perhaps the ones that were already members, did not care what his answer might be. "Honey, I can take care of every one of you and I guarantee that you will all be pleased.” As soon as his boast left his lips, he hoped that he could perform. He had never done that for an audience before. Sex, in most circumstances, remained private, even for him. Behind him, a quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “Would you like a drink?" Turning to her he smiled and nodded his head to thank her before he took the glass from her hand and tipped it to his lips. She watched as the burgundy liquid flowed into his mouth and he swallowed. By the way she watched him, he suspected that his drink had been drugged but little did this group know that they had sequestered a male, yes, but not a human male.

He downed the entire glassful of wine and smacked his lips. Ben restrained himself when his serving girl's jaw dropped, lines of worry stretching from the corners of her pink, full mouth. He wanted to laugh at them and tell them how futile their attempts would be to drug him. Then, in a wave, the drug invaded his blood stream. Dizziness attacked him and his knees turned watery as the books swirled about the room on a merry-go-round of library shelving. Ben fell back onto the bed and let his head rest on the soft mattress for a moment as he tried to get his bearings. He knew that his supernatural body would rid itself of the poison in minutes, but for now he would enjoy the ‘high'. "You've drugged me.” His voice slurred. The women closed in around him, looking down at him now with undisguised lust. Disjointed fingers plucked at his clothes and pulled his shirt over his head. Caitlin bent over him to stare into his eyes, her long black hair falling over her shoulders to tickle his cheek. Her face had no form, just floating dilated pupils, flesh and throbbing blood. The cool air stroked his naked skin, skin stripped of its covering by greedy feminine hands. He couldn't feel his arms and legs at all. "I am sorry about the roofies but you had to be made to forget. We can't have you spreading this story all over the campus. It is a pity though because you are a superb specimen—for a man. It is also unfortunate that we don't like men. But, we will use you to satisfy our selfish needs and turn you away like so many men have done to women throughout time." Hands on his penis, stroking it, made it jump to attention, harder than he could imagine it ever being, petrified wood, his rigid staff. Caitlin grinned and nudged his head with her elbow so that their eyes again met. “Oh, we gave you something for that too. You won't be able to orgasm, but you will stay hard all night long." Naked bodies danced around him, everywhere, the bodies. Breasts dangling in his face, taunting him like bloated beasts with one dimpled eye. He shook his head, trying to hurry the purging of the drug so that he could maintain control. Not that what he experienced now felt bad, not in the least—but he felt his fangs tickle his bottom lip and that he must control. They crowded around him, jostling each other and playfully pushing one another out of the way. "This won't work. Let's put him on the floor.” It seemed that the voice came from inside his head but logic dictated that it did not. Still, it confused him as other voices answered the first and they also spoke from inside his own head! "Yes, great idea. Y'all grab the spread and we can lift him right off the bed." "Yeah, let's do that!" He floated on a velvet cloud, light as the air around him and drifted to the ground beneath. No cloud, just the hard floor as his head struck with a thud. "Watch his head! Dammit, somebody move one of those rugs over here and we'll put him on that." "Hey Sue. Fix him another drink. I could swear that he already seems more alert." "We don't want to put him in a coma!" "Well we also don't want him remembering any of this now do we? I for one plan to ride him for as long as possible." Laughter. He heard it in one ear and then the other, though muffled. The dizziness began to abate and he examined the girls as they hovered over him. All attractive in different ways, and they all had blood pounding through their bodies, waiting for him to lap it up. He would too. His head lifted, lying against something soft. Female thighs. He smelled the center of her being, close by and moist. A glass touched his lips and he swallowed the liquid with gusto. So thirsty, but not the drink he desired! Ben turned his head to spit the wine out when he felt the crumbled, un-dissolved tablet with his tongue. Hands slapped over his mouth, holding it shut and

someone pinched his nostrils closed. He struggled but they were all over him, the weight of a dozen bodies and he could not breathe unless he swallowed the drugged wine. He swallowed and the restraints vanished. He coughed and immediately the glass touched his lips again. "Here drink this. You might as well since we already gave you the drugs." He drank and the assault began. Soft lips and wet tongues covered his skin. They spread his legs, bent his knees and greased his ass. He tried to squirm away from this invasion but the nymphs held him down. Giggles, many giggles. One sun-kissed gal straddled his head, her shining blonde nest and the open flower beneath tantalizing him to dive in. He drove his tongue into her, lapping at her and the nectar she willingly served. Fingers entered his ass, spreading him open for the larger invasion of the vibrating dildo that they pumped in and out of his defenseless body. He groaned, his protest smothered by the girl sitting on his face. She arched her back and raised her body just enough that he could turn his head and sink his fangs into her thigh. She jerked, but didn't pull away. She met his eyes, looking past her own mons to see him. Staring back at her, he kept her captivated by his gaze, and Ben drank without any of the others knowing. One after another, the girls climbed on his penis, like he was nothing more than a dime store pony ride, bucking on him with wild abandon until they reached their climax. The drug-induced fog began to fade and his hunger stirred. He pulled the girl riding him down to his chest and without caring who saw, sank his fangs into her throat. She moaned in ecstasy and he felt her wetness clenching on his raw sex as she climaxed. So, she liked the type of love he offered! He licked his lips and opened his eyes to see them all staring at him in shock except for Candy, his present partner. "It's okay, y'all. It feels wonderful. That was the best orgasm I have ever had. Let him bite you too." Hesitation. Then Caitlin broke through the girls to gaze at him through smoky, sex-crazed eyes. "What are you?" Ben didn't answer. He didn't want more drugs forced into his system but he did want to remain with them, at least until he had drank his fill of both lovemaking and sustenance. "Are you a real vampire or some kind of freak?” One of the other girls piped up, “Does it matter?" "Do me.” This one, so small, so unsure of herself but her desire for him burned in her dark eyes. He glanced over at her and reached out to take her hand and pull her through the others to lie next to him. Careful to keep his speech slurred, he asked her, “Wha—would you like, my wittle kitten?” Her answer shocked him and he almost forgot to act like he still suffered the effects of the drug. "I want you to take me rough and hard and I want to feel the sting of your teeth all over my body." Without answering he moved to comply. Pulling her under him he plunged into her without warning, pumping as hard as he could. The others vanished and the world revolved around just him and the little kitten that he pounded into. Her body proved to be too small for him to sink his fangs at the same time so he had to withdraw to move his head down her body. He bit her throat and drank just a sip, then kissed her wound and moved to her shoulder with such speed that she had just drawn in a gasp before he sank his teeth once more.

He worked her sex with his fingers as he drove his teeth through her fragrant skin over and over. He drank from her breasts, her shoulders, her neck, her wrist and she rocked against his fingers changing from his little kitten into a wildcat before she collapsed, weak and spent at his side. Another pledge nudged him with her knee and he turned his head to face her. But this one was no pledge. He'd already serviced the six that pledged to this dubious group. Caitlin stared into his face and for a moment his heart raced, as it seemed she noticed his alertness and contemplated drugging him yet again. She looked up at the other girls for a moment and motioned for them to move his last conquest away. "I'm next.” She threw her leg over his stomach and straddled him. “Show me what you've got." In one swift motion, he put his arms around her and flipped her over so that he straddled her. He captured one of her thin wrists in each of his hands and pulled them over her head to hold her down even though she didn't struggle. She turned her head just a bit, to peer at his arms, rippling with muscle beside her face and then she smiled and met his gaze once more. Ben parted his lips just enough that she could not fail to see his sharp canines and when she drew in her breath in an excited gasp, he growled, deep in his chest, dove at her throat and bit down with a savagery that he never used with his quarry. She writhed under his pressing body and pulled against his restraints in a halfhearted attempt to escape—but she didn't fool him. He smelled the sexual excitement oozing from every pore. He removed his fangs and slid into her hot little tunnel at the same moment. She would feel empty and full as he plunged in and withdrew, slow, in and out, slower still until he rammed into her as far as he could and stopped. Her eyes widened and she glared at him, frustration building. "What is it that you want, love?” He cooed into her ear as he slid his tongue in and warmed the wet canal with his breath. “What would you have me do in this drugged state? Hmmm?” She flushed, her face as red as the velvet beneath them. Strange that she would be shy now. He worked his tongue in and out, making love to her ear as he waited for her answer. "I can't do anything unless you tell me what you want." Goosebumps broke out down her neck and arms and he would be willing to bet that gooseflesh covered her entire body. Soft laughter from the shadows of the library reminded him that they were not alone and he glanced up to see a group of the women sprawled together, naked arms and legs entwined. Others kneeled nearby, watching him and Caitlin with fervid interest. "Make me feel like you love me. That is what I really want and that is what you could never do for me, could you?" Her eyes filled with tears but they didn't spill over. She didn't want to appear weak to him, this he knew. Still, he didn't expect such an answer. The others wanted savagery. This one, the biggest and the most outgoing woman here, this one wanted tenderness. That he could most certainly do and enjoy it too. Ben kissed her ear lobe and released her wrists from the position he held them in, over her head, then he brought one wrist to his mouth and kissed the bruised flesh. He trailed his lips down her arm, a gossamer moth's wing floating with the evening breeze, brushing against her hypersensitive skin. The moment took on the ethereal quality induced by the roofies earlier but the effects of the drugs were long gone. Caitlin needed him, and it didn't seem like just sex any longer. No, he wanted to make love to her and then he must take his leave and head back to the house. Bending to her face, he kissed her with all the feeling he could pack into that kiss and she responded. She wrapped her arms and legs around his body and pulled him down to her, deepening the kiss and holding him tight. He grunted when he felt the sting on his right buttock and he could no longer hold his weight off of Caitlin. He fell and kept falling—falling into the deceptive shadows that claimed his conscious mind.

Eleven Silent as an ancient tomb this house full of centenarians, and with the very oldest of them all present, the atmosphere reeked with undiluted strength. Not a muscle twitched except the eyes that flashed from one to another in astonishment until finally the old one spoke. "I have no clue what you are talking about, child. I have never laid eyes on you and here you stand, hardly murdered if you ask me. What nonsense is this?” No malice in Lachlan's speech, no anger, just the calm tolerance only one of his advanced age could achieve. CJ stomped her feet as if she needed to beat back a herd of invading insects as she crossed the room to face Lachlan. Hands on her hips, she glared up at him, a mighty sentinel to her terrible anger in the stiffness of her limbs. "Nuuhhhh. You know damn well what I am talking about." He stepped back, her hurled words turning into stones pummeling his head. Then, his eyes narrowed as he stared deep into her blazing black eyes. Lachlan faltered, his heart stood still and the breath remained trapped in his lungs as recognition fought with logic. He shook himself, his hair flying around his head in a whirling dervish of silky white strands. Smoothing his hair back he ran his hands down his face, making a small wake with his skin as he applied pressure to his cheeks. Sighing, he again stared down at the little imp before him. "You are just a girl. An adorable young girl with a striking resemblance to the disgruntled centenarian behind you. But...” He paused to glance up at Colin's glowering countenance then back down at CJ again. “You are nothing more than a little girl with a big attitude." CJ kicked at him, but he moved out of the way and laughed, a deep throaty sound that rumbled in his barrel chest, not at all unpleasant but it spooked her nonetheless. She backed away, and molded herself into Colin's embrace. "You cannot win, my dear. I am far too old for that.” Nothing unfriendly about him, but everyone in the room knew that he could kill them all with ease ... their faces all showed that knowledge, if not fear, except for Colin's. He glared at Lachlan just as he did when they met for the first time. Lachlan remembered that Colin had the gall to growl at him then! So short-tempered, this one and he saw no change despite the decade or so of time that passed since that first meeting. Linnea pinched Colin's arm and shook him. "Colin! Stop it. Don't be such a stubborn fool!” She shook his arm again until he dropped his glare from the ancient one to her. "I do nothing.” His voice fell flat but his anger was still obvious in his short words. "Enough, no need to bicker. I didn't come here to cause harm, if that is what you're thinking. As I did before, I just followed the call and it is obvious to me that this young one here is transmitting the call that all the males of our clan will hearken to." Lachlan stepped toward the group, holding his hands out, palms up to show his sincerity. He advanced on Linnea, dropped his left arm and gathered her tiny hand with his right. Lifting her hand to his lips he kissed her palm, then planted his light kisses on her wrist where he licked the pulse and moaned. "Mmmmm. It is very nice to see you, Linnea. I should have known that you would be near. I do find it odd that you are all once again gathered together though. Have you any idea how unorthodox it is for this many centenarians to reside in one place? And you, Linnea ... a second millennial." "I don't live with them,” piped up the red haired one from across the room. "Yes, but if you answered the call and you still live—well I find that very, um—remarkable.” Lachlan snorted, a short laugh that sounded more like a bark.

"Unlikely that this rash creature...” he pointed to Colin, “...would allow any male to sniff around his offspring and live." Milo stood, pushing out his chest with as much dignity as he could muster with the bits of plaster still falling out of his hair. "I was not sniffing around anyone!” He crossed his arms in front of him and looked down his nose at Lachlan until the elder bowed his head to stare back at him, a storm brewing under his heavy brows. Milo jerked his head and looked away, dropping his arms and losing any semblance of a defensive posture. "He is a friend, Lachlan." "Ah, you can speak with a civil tongue!” Lachlan smiled up at the taller Colin, and cut him off before he could respond in anger yet again. "I'm only teasing you. Please take no offense. I'm here to help.” His gaze dropped to the young lady in Colin's arms. “You are going to need it." Ringing chimes sounded from Colin's pocket. He ignored it and continued to face Lachlan. The chimes sounded again and his slacks moved as the vibration slid against the silk. He moved his right leg to relieve the tickle but still he did nothing more. Lachlan watched as Colin tried to act like nothing happened. "Your pants are ringing." The ringing chimes sounded again and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve the cell phone. He did not want to answer in front of the others but he thought it more rude to turn and leave the room. "Yes.” The phone looked like a toy in his brawny hand. A shaky female voice spoke back to him even though he already noted the number to be from Ben's phone. "Do you know Ben?" "Yes. I do. What is wrong?” He barked at the girl but then realized that she may very well throw the phone down and not answer him. He made his voice sound gentler, more concerned. “Is Benjamin all right? Do you need assistance?" She hesitated, but he heard her nervous breath on the other phone. Then she answered in a whisper. "He needs help. I'll tell you where to find him.” Colin released CJ, pushed her into Joanna's arms and rushed from the room. Linnea and Joanna looked at each other after Colin left. They both heard the girl on the phone even though Colin tried to muffle her voice by holding the phone tight against his head. "This Ben is the young blonde neophyte, is it not?” Lachlan looked to Joanna for his answer. Joanna nodded. "I have to go help him, Mom. This is all my fault!” CJ struggled to get away from Joanna but she had a tight grip on her upper arms and wouldn't let go. "Mom, please.” CJ pleaded again. “I did this to him. I drank his blood." "Hush CJ, don't mention that. Your father will hear. It's not your fault. I'm positive that Ben did whatever he's done all by himself.” Joanna pulled her daughter back into her arms and held her close. She whispered into her hair by her ear. “Don't worry, there is never a need to worry with your father around, you know that." Chaos bobbed her head in agreement even though for a moment her thoughts had strayed to the fear she felt because of him, the

powerful centenarian that ruled her life, her father. He returned to the den in a rush of anxiety and stopped as if he wanted to say something but, so uncharacteristic for him, he appeared to be trying to decide on a course of action. "Uh...” Colin stuttered. He ducked his head, running his hand through his hair as he shuffled his feet back and forth across the floor. “Uh..." "For crying out loud, Colin, what is it?” Milo crossed the room in a rush and waited for his companion to answer. “Can I help?" Colin looked up, his eyes traveling from face to face in the omnipotent group. "I am at a loss! I do not know what to do with the current situation the way it is and it really is disturbing me. I must go for Benjamin, that much I do know. But as for the rest of you, I have no clue what to do.” Colin gritted his teeth, grinding them together as the muscles in his jaw worked to and fro. "Who am I to trust? My daughter, who by the way, says she is not my daughter and my wife who is hotheaded and a danger to herself. Milo who crossed the continent in lust of my daughter even though he swears he would rather die than touch her. My creator, who kidnapped my daughter and took her from my home and Lachlan, the ancient one, who professes his intention to help, but then again, Lachlan is also the one who chose to remove Joanna from my side after her transformation. If not for Linnea, I believe that Joanna would not be here today. So, all of you, do you understand my dilemma?” Colin ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the unruly curls as he tried to make a decision. "Come along my confused comrade. I will go with you to rescue your neophyte. It is I you trust the least, yes?” Lachlan looped his arm through Colin's elbow and led him from the house without waiting for a response, and Colin had no choice but to go along with him if he wished to keep his arm in its socket. The strength in this stocky multi-millennial amazed him and he knew that Lachlan's power surpassed his own by so far that it could not even be measured. He balked at his close proximity but he felt it wise to conceal his thoughts, just in case Lachlan happened to be listening in. "You are quite right, my friend.” Lachlan's answer echoed inside his head and Colin startled, a slight tremor buzzing through his muscles like an unexpected electric current. He felt the laughter rumble in the shorter man's chest even though he had the manners to keep his humor to himself. Colin knew that laughter had to be a sight better than fury and he preferred to keep it that way. Ben could be in serious trouble, yet again. The girl on the phone said to look in the dumpster parked at the back of the south parking lot at the university. What the hell happened to his pupil for him to end up in a dumpster? At least she did say that he still drew breath. "You will have to lead the way, Colin. I am not familiar with your home land.” Lachlan released his arm and waited, sniffing the air as if he could get his bearings by scent alone. All Colin got a whiff of, hmmm, the crisp evening air with a touch of the hardwoods behind his house and the pond beyond that. He always smelled that pond, and despite the slight stagnant quality it still proved a pleasing fragrance, the green scent of the water and the creatures that dwelled in and around that water. "We are headed to the big city, only about an hour by foot if we run. Ben is at the University. I warn you now, I have no idea what we will find once we arrive.” Colin hesitated, unsure of how his statement will be received. “You do not have to accompany me." "Colin, think nothing of it. I do not have to do anything at my age. Understand that." "Yes, I realize that, Lachlan. But permit me to ask, why are you doing this?" "Why not?" Colin had no answer for that one, so he started walking at a brisk pace down the path leading away from the house, and toward the wilderness between his family and his missing and possibly wounded Benjamin. Urgency dictated that he reach the city with haste so he broke into a trot, then a full run. The fact that Lachlan kept up with his frantic pace and ran right by his side made him most uncomfortable, but damned if he would let the older blood seeker know that. It turned into a race as he increased his speed

only to realize that Lachlan surpassed him even at his quickest and he could not stop himself from throwing all he had into the run to try and best the old man. Lachlan left him behind, in a cloud of dust and burning shame but he slowed and waited for Colin to catch up with him then he matched his speed once more. Lachlan never said a word, but again he let Colin know that he possessed superior speed and strength. A lesser man would be humbled, Colin thought, and by all rights he should be but he would not bow to this ancient creature. He would not! All at once he felt a terrible choking pain in his throat and with a jolt his feet flew in the air before his body crashed back down, to land with painful force on the rocky ground. Stunned, he lay staring up at the tower of brawn that loomed above him. Legs like tree trunks planted on either side of Colin's body and arms as thick as oak branches crossed in front of his chest as Lachlan stood over him, calm and collected, watching as Colin realized the position he found himself in. Any blood that had managed to remain in his head during his abrupt halt drained away. "You know...” Lachlan's tone reminded Colin of a schoolteacher in front of his grade school class. “For one so young, you are far, far too arrogant for your own good. I don't expect you to worship me or even to like me, but...” He paused to raise one solid arm and shake his finger back and forth. “You better learn to respect your elders or I fear, it will be the death of you." "I..." Lachlan glared and Colin's mouth snapped shut. "Really, there is no need for you to say anything.” Lachlan spoke before Colin could say something that he would regret. He stepped over Colin's chest and reached down with one hand to pull him to his feet as if he weighed no more than a delicate flower. Once Colin gained his feet, the old one did not release his hand but continued to hold him in his grip as he gazed into his face. Admiration? Or was it pity? He could not tell. "You should also know, young Colin, that any other elder would have already killed you. I hope you are aware that most members of our kind do not take kindly to the existence of others. I would think you, most of all, are hated simply because you have a house full of women. I don't doubt that when the others discover this, you will be cut down before you can even protest." Colin stood as tall and proud as he could with his hand held in the hydraulic maw of Lachlan's grip. To his surprise, Lachlan burst into laughter and dropped Colin's mangled fingers to put his hands on his own knees, laughing even harder still. Colin remained silent, watching as the ancient one laughed and then dried his tears on his sleeve as he gasped and tried to gain control of himself. After a long drag of air, he smiled and looked back into Colin's incredulous face. "Colin, you are a rare prize indeed. No wonder you have an entire clan all to yourself. No wonder you have Milo in your house with you and he is not plotting to steal your women or kill you. No wonder you rush to the aid of your young friend even though he is quite capable of taking care of himself. And, no wonder that you out of all the members of our race have a biological daughter, a fertile daughter, I must add. Here I grow more fond of you by the moment even though you are an enormous pain in the ass and one of the most pompous, arrogant centenarians I have ever laid eyes on. What makes you so, likeable, I can't quite decide." Colin's mouth twitched and his lips stretched into a grin despite his efforts to keep a straight face. “Pompous and arrogant, huh?" Lachlan smiled back at him. "Yes, I realize that is a bit redundant but in your case, fitting.” The smile vanished from Lachlan's face and he lifted his hand to place it on Colin's shoulder, careful this time to cause no injury. "Colin, you are in grave danger. Your daughter is sending out her pheromone call to all the males in our species. They will kill you, young Benjamin, your strange friend Milo—even your Creator and your wife if they do not prove docile enough to claim as their own. You are fortunate that you bred Joanna before the change so that her call faded away. This will not happen with the child. I am sure of this. She is exceptional and she will drive the males wild. I myself would like nothing more than to take her away and make her mine but I would have her grow up some more first. The others will not wait and a war is imminent."

"I will take care of my child!" "You cannot! Fool!” Lachlan took his shoulders in both hands and shook him, rattling his teeth for a brief moment before he released him. "It is impossible and you will fail. You will fail, unless I remain with you and offer my assistance. I am willing to do this, if you will shut up and accept my help. If you do not, you will die, all those you love will die and your daughter will be taken away by the strongest of our kind." Dazed by Lachlan's repeated displays of strength, Colin hesitated. He knew that Lachlan offered a friendship of sorts and he should scream yes, but still, he could not open his mouth to form the words—as much as he wanted to ask for the ancient one's help. His ominous feelings intensified and he knew that Lachlan spoke the truth. He couldn't drag his eyes away from the kind old face and he had the humiliating urge to throw himself at this one's feet and beg him to help. Wrinkles at the corners of his mouth grew and Lachlan lifted those wrinkles just a bit in a tiny smile. "That is good enough. I will be of assistance should you need me." Lachlan picked the thoughts from his mind with ridiculous ease. Before Colin could close his mouth and gain a modicum of dignity Lachlan tucked his arm through Colin's and drug him along in the direction they headed before he'd slammed the younger blood seeker to the ground. "Come along, Colin. Let's find your wayward Benjamin and see if we can't humiliate him some.” They broke into a brisk sprint over the loose granite rocks and prickly plants that dotted the foothills. "Knowing Ben, he will not need our help. He can humiliate himself very well all on his own.” A small weight lifted from his heart when he heard Lachlan laugh at his remark. It felt good to be in his company and if he did not watch out he may even start to like the egotistical old millennial. The odor from the city assailed them before they caught sight of the lights. Colin loathed the artificial smell of cities and he always chose to live far enough away that he could not detect even a whiff of the metropolis. The automobiles, the buses, the planes, the factories and businesses, ugh, so overpowering that it gave him a headache. One glance at Lachlan's frown showed him that his companion found the idiosyncrasies of the city just as distasteful as he did. They stayed on the outskirts of the city until they arrived at the University and Colin led Lachlan to the parking lot described to him by the girl on the phone. Colin had no problem finding Ben just where the girl said he would be. Near the big blue dumpster, Ben stumbled around the parking lot, pulling his pants on. As they watched, he fell over with one leg in the pants and one remaining outside the pants. He stayed on the ground fumbling with his pants like some drunken college kid. Ben failed to notice the two elder males as they approached and he chose to just lie there on the ground, breathing hard and muttering profanity to himself. One leg still hung out of his pants, his green silk boxers shining in the dim light from the street lamp. "Benjamin.” Soft words but Ben froze and dropped his hands, then let his head fall back onto the curb. Moving closer, Colin and Lachlan stood over Ben, smirking at his closed lids. Just like a kid, if he could not see them, then maybe they would vanish. In hilarious slow motion, Ben raised his arms and put his palms over his face, hiding even farther from the two towering beings standing over him. Colin kneeled beside him and bent to his ear. "Benjamin." Ben threw his hands down and sat up, only to fall back over with a groan. His dilated pupils appeared to float on polished crystal orbs but he managed to focus on his creator's grinning face. "Oh shit.” Ben moaned and closed his eyes again.

"What in hell is wrong with him?” Lachlan tried to sound gruff but Colin knew he tried to hide his amusement with his terse words. Colin pushed Ben over to his side and pulled down his boxers to expose his pale ivory skin and the bright purple puncture mark on his left hip. He looked up at Lachlan and shook his head. "Apparently, he is drugged. And by the looks of him, whatever they injected him with is very potent.” Pulling his shorts back up, Colin let Ben roll onto his back then helped him to sit up. "Come around Ben. You are embarrassing me in front of Lachlan.” Colin winked at Lachlan when he said this to let him know that nothing Ben did embarrassed him but he just wanted to get him riled so he will snap out of his lethargy. He would come out of the drug induced fog soon without intervention anyway and Colin felt certain that Ben wished that he and Lachlan had not found him in this shameful condition. "Colin.” Lachlan pointed toward the school. “Look." Around the corner of the building a young lady peeked at the three of them. "She must be the one that made the call on Ben's cell phone.” Colin shifted his gaze to meet Lachlan's. “She should not see us." "I would be happy to take care of that.” Lachlan turned to intercept the young woman. She gasped when she saw him coming and took off running. Lachlan disappeared in an instant. Ben giggled. “She's gonna get it...” His speech bubbled out, high pitched and slurred. Then he giggled again. "Hush, boy.” Colin hooked his hand under Ben's armpit and pulled him to his feet, then had to put his arm around him and hold him up as he swayed and almost fell again. Colin coughed and held his head as far away from his friend as possible. Ben exuded an assortment of rank odors, from rotted food and soggy cardboard to damp earth and mildew, to a myriad of clashing feminine perfumes—and sex, lots of sex. "Put your pants on.” Colin spoke through his clenched jaws as he tried not to inhale too much. He kept his head turned as Ben struggled to get his exposed leg into the pants and as much as he wanted to just jerk the pants on his stumbling friend, he would not humiliate Ben that way. He managed to drag his slacks on and get them buttoned just as Lachlan returned and stood next to them. Lachlan stared at Ben, his head tilted to one side as if he couldn't quite figure out what planet he hailed from. One arm draped across his middle and the other elbow resting on that arm, he bunched his fingers into a loose fist and held it under his chin. Colin watched Lachlan as he examined Ben until he could stand it no longer. "What is it?” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he failed. Lachlan scowled at him, his expression enough of a warning that Colin said nothing more. A moment later, he dropped his arms to his sides and lifted the corners of his mouth for a brief second then he sighed. "It amazes me. The resilience of our bodies, that is.” He pointed to Ben's swaying form. “If not for the benefit of your blood in his veins, that young one would be dead.” Those women injected him with enough Ketamine to knock out an elephant. And this on top of the Rohypnol they slipped in his wine. The girl who called you worried that Ben would die so that is why she alerted you to his location. She disagreed with her comrades’ decision to drug him. I spared her for that reason. She will not remember seeing us tonight.” He winked at Colin. “And she will not find the marks I left on her body." Lachlan eased himself to Ben's other side and slid his arm around his waist to help support him as they traveled. The staggering young one could not ask for two stronger supports. With a capable blood seeker on each side of him, travel should be simple, as long as they met with no villainous members of their clan on the way back to the house. Ben's footsteps grew stronger and surer as they covered the miles and his shame also grew as his mental functions returned in full force. Not only had Colin seen him in that inebriated state but also the most powerful among them, Lachlan. He wanted to ask

how they found him and why then came looking in the first place, but he said nothing. He may never say another word for as long as he lived. But then another urgent need assailed him. He had to speak up or humiliate himself even more, if that were possible. "I need to stop.” Ben mumbled, hoping that would be enough. No response from his stalwart companions. "I must stop now!" Ben pulled against their arms and tried to plant his feet to slow their rapid pace. Still they ignored him, most likely thinking he still suffered the effects of the drugs. He could wait no longer and threw himself into a volley of flinging arms and stamping feet as he wiggled his way out of their grips. "I have to go, NOW.” Ben spouted then turned away from Colin and Lachlan to find a large enough boulder to hide at least his lower half from their view. He unfastened his pants and pulled down his bright green boxers to relieve himself. He didn't plan to mention that he'd never before seen the underwear that somehow ended up on his body. At least he could walk without falling flat on his face now. Underwear didn't matter. "Feel better?" Colin watched him with such a bland expression on his face that Ben almost burst into a fit of silly giggles. Rather than risk that, he nodded to show that he did feel better. "Are you able to travel under your own power now, young man?" Lachlan's honeyed tone of voice caressed him at the same time as the actual words chastised him and he liked the primeval millennial for that. He knew Lachlan would not come right out and berate him for his reckless actions this evening and he may even empathize with him if he knew what all happened. Ben lifted his eyes to meet Lachlan's perceptive black windows of, what? Amusement? Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell. Lachlan knew it all, every last sordid detail and he let him know this with a simple look. "Come on Ben, we are not that far from the house. Let us keep moving, unless of course you wish to share your night's adventure with us. For that tale, we will gladly wait.” Colin stood before him, his hands together, hanging in front of his body as if he had all the time in the world to wait, when Ben knew he must be eager to return to the house and Chaos. "No, I think not.” Ben wanted to forget this night, not relive it by telling his story. Without another word Colin turned and sped toward the house and Ben followed, with Lachlan pulling up the rear so that he could keep a close eye on Ben. The ominous and most worrisome sensation of dread that he suffered from all evening intensified and Colin picked up the pace even further, in a rush to get back to Joanna and Chaos. It hit them all at once as they drew closer to Colin's house. Even Ben, in his lingering fog, noticed it. Strong heated emotions stirring their senses and carried on the gentle wind, blood—endless amounts of fresh blood.

Twelve Linnea screamed in rage when the attacker zapped her with the stun weapon. The searing twinge shot down her arm and coalesced into an angry swarming hive of pain in her gut. Three males came at her from different directions, grabbing her anywhere they could gain purchase and throwing her to the ground as they hooted with premature celebration. They piled on her back, holding her down with the weight of their bodies as they fought for a patch of bare skin to sink their fangs. Linnea gathered her strength preparing to buck them off. Her hair moved from the back of her neck and a moist mouth sucked at her skin for a moment and the sharp sting of his fangs soon followed. She decided to kill that one first. A hideous smacking thud sounded right behind Linnea's head, and the fangs were driven farther into her neck as his face crashed into the back of her head, then splattered her hair with bits of blood and gray matter that she saw as it fell to the ground by her face. His dead weight flew from her back and the other two attackers yelped with surprise and jumped to defend themselves. Linnea turned over to see Milo, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of unrestrained fury, swing a wooden baseball bat at the head of another attacker. That one ducked and the bat hit him in the shoulder. He screamed in pain as his collar bone cracked with a sickening crunch. "Milo! Behind you!” Linnea screeched her warning just in time and he spun about and swerved to avoid the Tazer that one of the attackers had used on her. The current jumped from pole to pole with a sizzling blue and white bolt of raw electricity but it missed Milo's skin. Milo swung the bat down hard on the assailant's forearm but the foe managed to deflect the bat enough that he got little more damage than a bruise. While he fought with Milo, Linnea gained her footing and snuck up behind him to grab his stun weapon hand and shove it into his own gut. She wrapped her hand around his so that he couldn't let go and delivered one jolt after another to him. His flesh stunk of burned pork when she at last let go of his hand and let him fall to the ground. The enemy with the broken collarbone ignored his pain, and heaved one of the heavy rocks that littered the ground around Colin's home. It hit Linnea in the middle of her back, knocking her to her knees. It would be the last thing he ever did though, for Milo leapt at him and with a vicious slash of his fangs tore the other's throat open. Torn in two, the main artery spurted blood all over the large shrub beside the house, the blood droplets shining like bright red berries all over the leaves. Milo didn't let all the blood flow out to be wasted on the ground. He went for the man's throat once more and locked his mouth to the wound, gulping down the arterial flow until the heart ceased to pump any longer. Then, with his gore splattered baseball bat, he pulverized the blood seeker's head. Looking around for the remaining members of the dubious gang of rebel blood seekers, Milo and Linnea realized that the others had managed to make their way into the house. They checked each other out with a quick glance to make sure neither of them had any injuries needing immediate attention. Then they dashed to the house and burst through the door as a united killing duo. Blood spray covered the kitchen floor as well as part of the den and they skated across the blood to get through the room as they sought out Joanna and CJ. Silence, pure and unbroken except for the clock ticking on the far wall of the den by the stairs. The pair crept through the house, careful to make no sound themselves until they discovered why the absolute quiet filled the house when there should be a commotion inside similar to the one that transpired outside. "Come out, come out, where ever you are...” The singsong words floated down the stairs to them and they knew in a moment that Joanna and CJ lay hidden somewhere in the house. The intruder or intruders searched for them upstairs somewhere and they had no clue that Linnea and Milo followed. Having the element of surprise should prove to be very helpful. Footsteps taken as if they walked on a fine silk wire over the deepest gorge, the two trackers made their way up the stairs. At the landing, Milo saw one interloper at each end of the hall and he motioned to Linnea on the step below with two fingers to indicate the two, then he pointed to each end of the hall to show her their positions. Linnea pointed to herself and to the right to show Milo the direction she would take and then with the speed only one of their advanced ages could muster, they charged the bad guys. Linnea reached her opponent first and slammed him against the wall so hard that he bounced back into her arms. Reaching between his legs, she seized a hand full of genitals through his thin slacks and squeezed until she felt his testicles rupture, then as he shrieked in agony she drove her fangs deep into his throat, lacerating his

veins and arteries and tearing his larynx out of his neck. Nobody wanted to hear him scream like a girl anyway. Disgusted with the mess he made on the rug, she tried to open the window at the end of the hall but it wouldn't budge, so she just tossed him out through the glass, watching to make sure he didn't rise again after he landed. Milo and his opponent tore up the guest room at the far end of the hall. Linnea heard furniture hit the wall and glass breaking and the thud of bodies slamming against—everything. Then the unmistakable buzz of the stun weapon and Milo's spine chilling howl of pain. She ran to assist him but the body flying like a crash dummy through the doorway and into the hall knocked her flat on her back. The flying Milo blasted the air from her lungs with his dead weight as he plowed into her, but he had no time to apologize because his assailant followed on his heels. The other centenarian bled from several deep gashes and seemed to have a misshaped face, but anger and desperation drove him to continue his attack. He hesitated just a moment when he saw Linnea, and she used that moment to her advantage. Rolling Milo off her body in a flash, she rocketed toward him and drove her long fingernails directly into his eyes. When he slumped over holding his hands over his punctured eyeballs, she kicked him in the face, unhinging his jaw and knocking three teeth out. He sobbed and surrendered to her, kneeling on the floor with his neck stretched and exposed to her. Linnea took him with no further pain, and drained his battered body. "Wow. That was exhilarating!” Milo stood behind her as she dropped the empty vessel and stood. Linnea rubbed the back of her neck and felt something foreign and hard still in the wound there. Lifting her hair she uncovered the wound and nudged Milo with her free hand. "Would you mind?" "Sure.” She felt his fingers touch her neck, his exploration as he probed the gash with gentle care, as if she might break at any moment. "I'll need to use my knife to get that bone fragment out. Do you mind?" Linnea smiled at his tentative and courteous question. After all they just went through, and the session of wild love before the attack he still treated her with a bit of trepidation. A loud creak sounded behind them and they spun around to see a set of hidden wooden stairs falling from the ceiling. Joanna's legs appeared on those steps as she unfolded the attic stairway and let it open to the floor. "Is the coast clear?” Joanna waited at the top for someone to speak back to her. Linnea answered. “Yes, the enemy has been vanquished." Joanna went back up and then CJ descended the stairs, dainty feet taking one step at a time as she glanced around watching for the fearsome invaders. As she neared the bottom she noticed Linnea and Milo and their tattered appearances. CJ's quick intake of breath drew Joanna to the opening in the attic and instead of taking the stairs she leapt straight down, and hit the floor in a forward roll, hands up, ready for combat. "There is no one here,” Milo assured her. "Well if you two had allowed me to fight along with you, I would know that." "Joanna!” She cringed at Linnea's sharp tone. To be reprimanded by her seemed almost as bad as when the stern words came from Colin. “You know we felt it best that you stay with the child.” Linnea spoke this time in a softer voice, almost an apology for the harshness of her previous statement. "Just look at us!” Milo waved at his bleeding face and bruised body. “Would you have Chaos damaged like this? Her beautiful young face perhaps scarred for life?" "He's right,” said Linnea. “We have no way of knowing what her regenerative powers may or may not be. She is a first, an

unblemished canvas waiting to be adorned. And now that everything is done, the wayward others have returned." "Phew, and one of them smells!” Milo waved his hand in front of his face as if to shoo the odor away, but it only got stronger as the trio ascended the stairs to meet them. "What a mess you have made of my house, Milo. I will have your explanation for this wanton carnage at once.” Colin gathered his child and wife into his arms and squeezed them until they fought to inhale. Knowing that his friend attempted humor to lighten the strained ambience in his house, Milo said nothing in return and bent to lift the drained corpse from the floor. To his surprise, Lachlan appeared to help him carry the body out of the house and he welcomed his help even if he could've carried it alone. "I think I'll go get a shower,” said Ben. "THANKS!” Everyone said thanks at the same time and chuckled at the distressed look on Ben's face. "Is it bad?" Lachlan spoke up first as he passed by carrying the dead blood seeker. “I wasn't going to say anything." Ben's cheeks brightened and he hurried past the mess and the group of centenarians to go to his room and close the door. He opened the door again and popped just his head out to speak to Colin. "I'll be out in a bit to help clean up.” Then he retracted his head, a turtle escaping inside its shell, and closed the door once more. "Dad?" "Yes, Chaos." "I don't know why everyone worries about me like this. See how easy it was for Milo and Linnea to win this fight? How many fiends were there? Six? Seven? And they beat them lickity split." "I counted five rogues and CJ, these men were young and foolish. I doubt it will ever be this easy again. The young and the foolish are the only ones that would rush in like they did with no forethought and no true attack plan. Plus, they did not take into account how many of our kind are here right now. If they had any sense at all, they would bide their time and attack when Linnea and Milo are not in the house." "I'm going to start cleaning up the gore in the kitchen. I hope we have enough peroxide to get the blood out of the rugs.” Joanna eased out of Colin's embrace and headed downstairs with Linnea walking along beside her. She looked sideways at her and saw blood oozing from her ear and bits of something gross stuck in her hair. "Would you like some help cleaning your wounds?" "Well if you don't mind—do you have some tweezers? I seem to have a particle of either tooth or bone in the back of my neck. This is a souvenir that I would rather not keep embedded in my flesh. The other wounds will heal quickly enough. I need a shower too.” Linnea winked at the younger woman. "Perhaps not as much as our odiferous Benjamin." They both smiled, halfhearted, but smiles nonetheless, anything to relieve the stress. Joanna placed her hand on Linnea to stop her descent. "The tweezers are in my bathroom. I'll bring them down to your room, okay?" Linnea nodded then turned and continued down to the lower level, her steps slow but even. Joanna ran to her bathroom and

grabbed the tweezers out of her drawer, ignoring Colin and CJ as they walked to her room. She caught up with Linnea at her door and they went inside. Concentrating on a smaller thing right now, the need to remove a bone fragment, kept her mind off the monumental task of cleaning up all the blood and gore both inside the house and outside too. Just the brief glimpse she caught of her den as she went into Linnea's room made her want to throw up. In the yard outside the house, Lachlan and Milo stood beside a pile of blood seeker carcasses. They made short work of gathering them all together and stacking them on top of one another, but now they stood and stared like simpletons at the bodies. "What are we to do with them?” Milo asked the question that he knew Lachlan had no real answer for though he thought perhaps to throw them in the small lake would work well. Colin leaned out of the broken second story window and shook his head. "Not in my pond. I'll be right down." The blood on the kitchen floor had started to get sticky and Colin had to grit his teeth to make his way across the room and out the door. He had never seen his house in such disarray. Despicable fiends to defile his home this way with their filth! Bits of brains, blood and body parts dotted his yard as grotesque insect feeding stations. Those must be cleaned up as well. Colin loathed flies, nasty creatures. "We will need to burn the bodies. The ground is too hard and rocky to dig a pit large enough to bury them. I would not risk just leaving them for the animals to eat either, since it may take too long and someone may stumble upon them." Colin grabbed the arm on one of the cadavers and pulled it off the pile to drag it into an open space some distance from the house and downwind. Lachlan and Milo also pulled a body over to the area Colin indicated as good for burning. After piling all five of the bodies in a loose stack, Colin poured gasoline on them and struck a match. It lit but as he started to toss it on the gas soaked pile, the flame went out and a cold wind swirled past him raising goose flesh on his arms for a brief moment. He tried again with the same result! Uneasy now, Colin handed the matches to Milo and asked him to start the fire. Milo struck the match and tossed it on the mound. It ignited in a towering ball of flame with a hollow whump sound that sent them all scurrying away from the raging inferno. The smell of roasted flesh sickened them and all three retreated back to the house and away from the blood seeker bonfire. Joanna had started the arduous task of cleaning the kitchen floor. She shouted at the three when they walked in and left footprints on the part of the tile she'd already scrubbed. "Hey!” Despite their omnipotence, the three powerful males had the good sense to look sheepish, and tip toe the rest of the way across the floor. No one wanted to make Joanna angry. CJ waited in the den, watching Linnea pour peroxide on the blood stained rugs before she scrubbed the rest of the polished wood floor. Lachlan stood behind her watching the sway of her hips as she scrubbed the stains away, and failed to notice the withering looks Chaos shot him. "Stop that—murderer.” CJ spat, venom dripping from her words. Lachlan looked up, startled by the hatred in her innocent young voice, so out of place coming from such a pure child. He met Colin's gaze, apologizing with his expression for what he meant to do next. In three long terrifying strides, Lachlan crossed the room and snatched CJ from her perch on the sofa. Holding her in the air as if she weighed no more than a tiny mouse, he glared into her astonished face. As she dangled at the end of his arms, her anger chilled and transformed into alarm that dripped from her pores in an imperceptible but fragrant stream. "You will tell me what you mean by that, young lady and right now or I will hang you from the ceiling fan and swat you as you flail about the room like a naughty little girl piñata." Colin moved to stop him, but Milo and Linnea both put out an arm to hold him back. Linnea shook her head as she pushed him until his shoulders touched the wall on the far side of the room. "Don't interfere.” She whispered, then left him standing there to go tell Joanna the same thing.

"Well are you ready to speak, or do I start swatting?” Lachlan's soft-spoken manner had changed, deeper tenor, sharper words and Chaos responded with an almost imperceptible nod of her head. He lowered her back to the sofa and released her then stood before her, arms crossed in front of his broad chest, feet apart in a stance that could hold a locomotive back. "Speak.” Lachlan's command brought another convulsive gulp out of Chaos and after she swallowed her nervousness once more and cleared her throat, she obeyed. "I am the First Thirst. I remember you from the beginning. You and another two of our clan that I awakened with a taste of my blood." He tottered, his arms falling away from his chest as if they weighed more than the world and he could no longer support their great weight. Brows raised so far that they disappeared amidst his thick mop of white hair, mouth in a grim line, he gawked at her as if he had never seen anything like her before. She morphed into a monster right before his eyes. "Where is your brother, eh? Did you murder him too as you murdered me?" "I did not! I tried to save you. I did not take your life!" Chaos jumped from the sofa charging at Lachlan, hatred twisting her face as it had twisted her mind for many millennia. "LIES!” I saw you raise your knife to me. Your hateful face was the last thing I ever saw and that, I will never forget." It seemed that a huge weight lifted from his shoulders then as a realization struck him and he shook his head back and forth, his hair flying about. He knew that his truth would be a safe port in her storm of lies. "Nuuhhh. You are wrong my little doe.” He raised his arms to her and she backed away, retreating from his embrace as if her life depended on it. Allowing him to touch her would stop her heart from beating and trap her soul in eternal limbo with no glory and no afterlife. "Ahh, don't treat me so. I did nothing wrong. In fact, I tried with all my strength to bring you back. It was the other one that gave you the mortal wound, not I!" She halted her flight to look at him in a new light. "What is it you're saying and how could it be?" "It was the other remaining male, the one ate up with jealousy and hatred, he was the guilty one who crept up behind you, in cowardice, and swung his blade at your throat before I could do more than lift my arm in your defense. Your cruel dismissal of his attentions—that was his motive.” Lachlan dropped his head, reliving those dusty old memories as if they happened last week, instead of back to the time after the last ice age. "I am sorry I could not bring you back. Your head fell to the ground, that incredulous frown still on your lips as your face rolled in the dirt. I charged after him, my small blade the only weapon I carried. But, it would be enough. I would have my revenge for myself and for you. He died in great pain. I made sure he would not come back as I hacked his worthless carcass into many pieces and left them for the predators, to fill out their sunken ribs." Chaos watched him, still not sure of his story, the memory of his face before she died so ingrained in every cell of her being that it took tremendous courage to even think anything different. The First Thirst, inside of her, howled in pain. But here she stood, born again into this first female born of two blood seekers, this first child of her clan to arrive in many millennia. "Tell me, why would I murder the mother of our children? Why would I wish to raise the offspring by myself? How was I to suckle the infant that lay sleeping on the furs mere inches from where your head fell to the ground? Do you see? Do you see now that it was not I that struck that final blow?" She stared at his open, honest and gentle face and yes, she knew he spoke the truth. And here he stood, alive still after all this

time, an immortal being. The years had been remarkably kind to him. "How did you come to be in this young form?" CJ blinked, and her eyes clouded for a moment, the deep brown swirling with glittering gold before they returned to their gorgeous shade of dark chocolate. She frowned, thinking of what to say before she answered but she seemed unsure of her own response. "I am Chaos Janelle, the daughter of those two anxious creatures standing behind you with the glares that may very well kill you should you touch me. But, I also carry all the memories of the First Thirst inside me. I am not one, but two people inside this one thin body. Even as a young child, the memories assailed me when I slept or daydreamed. Now they are there all the time as if I have lived that life in the caves—as if I brought my clan members to life with sips of my own blood—as if I bore your children.” She hesitated then, embarrassed by her memories of the sex that in this virgin body she had never experienced. She became aware of all the eyes bearing down on her, so many powerful beings in this house, watching her, listening to every word she uttered, maybe even seeing into her mind and her shameful thoughts. Milo and Linnea at the far end of the den, watching. Her parents in the kitchen doorway, watching. Ben, at the bottom of the stairs, his hair dripping on the carpet, as he watched her also. Then, planted just a foot away, one of the first of her kind, calling himself Lachlan now. Funny that. They had no names in the beginning, no real language other than a few tones, as they communicated by images in their minds. No need for a spoken language when one so easily slipped into the other's psyche. CJ felt panic brewing in her chest. So many eyes upon her, trapping her with their stares. She wanted out of this room and out of this house, away from the others. "I need some air.” She ran past her parents, through the kitchen with the half clean, half sticky floor and out the door, leaving it standing open to the night. Colin moved to follow her. He walked on his toes across the tile floor, careful not to step in any of the remaining soiled spots. As he neared the exit a chilled breeze caressed his skin and the door slammed in his face. He stood there in shock, glaring at the closed door, the air from his lungs making a small cloud in front of his face as it left his body. Joanna walked up next to him and the arctic blast disappeared. "Colin?" He ignored her, reached for the doorknob and jerked the door open, leaving the house without looking back or saying a word. Joanna glared at his retreating back for a moment, then spun on her heel to join the others in the den. "I swear if I wasn't so accustomed to his rude behavior I would be offended.” They stood there, all in the same room, the awkward silence deafening to their supersensitive hearing. No one knew what to say or do until Linnea realized she still held the bottle of peroxide in her hand and she bent to pour it on the stained rug. Everyone watched her as if she put on a Broadway show by pouring the liquid on the stain, the furious fizzing as the peroxide attacked the bloodstain the main act. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, everyone broke into action at the same moment. Milo and Linnea dropping to their knees to scrub the rug, Joanna and Ben dashing into the kitchen to finish mopping up the gore on the tile and Lachlan moved to the stairs and took them two at a time to get to the top. Deep jade green curtains billowed in the broken window, snagging on the shattered glass and Lachlan bent to pick up the shards that had fallen on the carpet. Most of the glass fell outside since the body was thrown from inside, but some of the pieces remained lodged in the wooden frame and a few jagged glass fragments littered the rug like sparkling diamond blossoms in the meadow of copper and jade fibers. He saw them through the window, father and daughter as they held each other in a familiar, comforting embrace. Lachlan's dormant jealously awakened, unfurling as he watched Colin's hands stroke his daughter's back. The envious beast roared, angered by its confinement. It wanted out, out to destroy, out to conquer—out, out, out. No, he would not release the beast! He closed his eyes and backed away from the window. Pulling from his inner strength, he pushed the jealousy back, shrinking it until it no longer posed a threat. Lachlan the ancient would not be reduced to the ranks of those that even now still burned in the

clearing outside the house. There would be more like them, even more powerful centenarians who would come to claim the woman-child that he coveted for his own. This time he would not fail her. He would not neglect his second chance to protect her from harm. This need to defend would be his driving force to keep the jealous monster under control. But first, he must clear the house of the others. Milo need not be near Chaos, and Ben need not be near either. How to make them leave? Easier for him to take Chaos away himself to protect her. He knew the others would not tolerate that. The situation needed more intense scrutiny. Ben kneeled on the tile with Joanna, wiping up the mess with paper towels before she sprayed disinfectant and wiped again. Working as a team, the tedious job didn't seem so bad. It was also very pleasant watching Joanna squirm around on her hands and knees. He never tired of ogling her. Even after his marathon sex session, he still felt his manhood stir as he watched her breasts swinging with the movements of her arms. She left her top buttons unfastened and he caught a glimpse of her skin and her swaying breasts with each circular motion. He threw himself into the work at hand and forced his leering gaze away from her enticing form before the bulge became evident in his jeans. "What happened here, Jo?” Talking always helped to rein in his runaway ardor. She smirked back at him, a knowing look plastered on her face that made him want to leave the room. "I think it's pretty obvious what happened here—but what happened to you this evening? Huh?” She reached over to pull his hair, a light affectionate tug that once again set his ardor aflame. Must be the drugs still in my system, he thought. His cheeks warmed and his pulse quickened and as much as he would love to brag about his sexual prowess this evening, he sure didn't want to tell Joanna about it. "I think what went on here is much more newsworthy, Jo. Really. All this blood. Must have been a terrible fight.” His efforts to change the subject worked. Her expression changed into one of annoyance and a touch of resentment. Her luscious lips turned down in a pout and her eyebrows scrunched up, wrinkling her forehead. "I wouldn't know what happened. They sent me to hide like a weakling under the guise of protecting CJ. I know that they just think me pathetic and weak and wanted me out of the way. Linnea, the second millennial and Milo the big bad centenarian." "Well at least you weren't rescued, in a drugged up stupor, with your pants halfway on, by your creator and the oldest of us all.” They glared at each other, both in a state of righteous indignation and then Joanna smiled, trying not to laugh at him, but she could just picture it in her mind, Ben with his pants hanging by one leg stumbling around in front of Colin and Lachlan. And of course the two of them would be looking down on him, arms crossed, with such superior looks on their faces. She laughed. All the pent up resentment she felt drained away as she snorted and Ben couldn't help but chuckle too even though he knew she found amusement at his expense. As long as she laughed, it didn't matter. Her throaty giggle produced a far better high than any drug. As Ben listened to the delicate tones in her laughter he heard something else, something that had not been there a moment before. "Shh, shhhh,” He pushed Joanna on the shoulder to get her attention. “Shhh. I hear something. Listen.” The tone of his voice startled her out of her giggling fit and she held her breath to listen along with him. Very faint ticking, unlike any of the clocks in the house and it seemed to get a little faster, a shorter gap between the clicks as each tick sounded. Sudden terror, and the scent of their fear filled the air in an instant. "Colin!” Joanna shouted with all the horror she felt clinging to that one word. Linnea and Milo came tearing into the kitchen and heard the ominous ticking as well. All eyes in the room grew rounded and huge with their alarm. "Get out! Get out of the house!” Linnea screamed at the top of her lungs. They all sprinted for the door as the tremendous rumble began.

Thirteen Chaos felt the pressure moments before the thunderous roar of the explosion blew her off her feet and sent her sailing through the air. She tried to keep her eyes open, but the heat burned, blistering her face, searing her lungs, and despite the terrible booming, she lost all hearing, all sensation and barely felt the impact when her tumbling body slammed into the large pine tree and slid down to the ground. Excruciating pain. CJ felt the ache before she realized that consciousness returned. Pain and more pain in steady waves, lapping at her, washing over her with ever increasing agony. She couldn't bear it and she lapsed back into her state of oblivion once more. **** The Earth no longer cared for her children. She froze the lakes and the rivers, made the land one barren sheet of ice. Few creatures survived the hostile climate and fewer still stirred at all. In the cave, she struggled to stay warm. The pelts that covered her sleeping clan no longer kept her comfortable. No joy in living, nothing to keep her awake, so she slept and hoped for a better life if she ever did rouse again. **** CJ opened her eyes and vomited. She choked and tried to roll on her side as the heaves wracked her pain filled body. She hurt so bad! More heaves but nothing else in her stomach to come out except the bile that dripped down her cheeks to settle in her ear and in her hair. She didn't care. The awful pain, everywhere, only got worse as her stomach heaved. CJ wanted to die. Death had to be better than this. Wanting to cry out for help, she opened her mouth but her stomach hurt when she tried to yell so the most she could muster was a rasping moan. Where were her parents? "Dad.” Her call so weak she couldn't hear it over the ringing in her ears. CJ sobbed, her heart breaking just like the rest of her seemed to be. No one to help! So weak, so hurt, but she had to see, had to find someone to help her! There had always been someone to protect her and no one came for her this time. Her parents, the omnipotent beings she so wanted to emulate—where were they now? "Where are you?” Again that pathetic whisper and she sobbed once more but even the act of crying hurt so much that she forced herself to stop. CJ had to be brave and tough and she had to help herself but all she wanted to do was cuddle in her dad's arms and he would make her feel better. Dad would fix her broken body while Mom soothed her, and stroked her hair and told her she would be just fine. **** Mother held her in her arms, dripping cool water into her mouth from the tender leaves above her head and smiling down at her. The air had grown colder every day and soon the clan would be forced to move farther down the mountains where the larger predators lived. They had no choice. The men fashioned weapons of bone and stone to defend the clan from those predators with the hungry eyes and hollow bellies that spent their lives waiting for that next live meal. Not long after that day, the stream froze solid and the clan plodded down to the valley below. She saw interesting tracks in the snow and followed them, not knowing that she strayed too far from her clan and the protection of the big males. An image appeared in her head of herself far away from the others and she turned back. Mother stood there, the mad look on her face all the incentive she needed to hurry and catch up with the group. Mother waited for her to pass and fell in behind her, trudging through the snow as she held her swollen belly with both hands. She slowed her pace to wait on her mother since being with child made her trip harder. She saw the beast behind them! She pointed, frantic now for Mother to run. But she could not run, not with her huge stomach and she fell in the snow. Right before her eyes she saw the beast leap on Mother's back and tear her head off with one swipe of its giant paw. She ran as fast as she could, tears flowing down her cheeks and freezing on her face. She cried and sobbed and gasped for air as she caught up with the others. The alpha male saw her hysterics and made his way back to her. Probing her mind, he saw the beast kill Mother and he glared down at her, his big hair-covered face as fierce as the beast's. Then he raised his immense hand

and cuffed her so hard on the side of her head that her ear rang with a high whimper of its own. She hurt more than ever, but she no longer cried. **** CJ came to with a start, disoriented and not knowing where she had fallen asleep. Daylight filtered down through the pine boughs to warm her skin and she found she could breathe a little easier now. The pain, though still intense, didn't have the horrible stabbing crescendos that it had when last she awoke. The dream lingered and it confused her because she didn't recline in snow, but on the hard ground, littered with pine needles and rocks. She inhaled and cringed at the odor clinging to her body. Vomit and dried urine stench choked her. She had no clue how long she slept or why she woke on the ground. The wind blew, ruffling her filthy hair and bringing the hint of destruction to her—burned timbers, dust and what could only be death. All at once the memories returned, the horror of the explosion and the fact that she lay under this tree all alone with no one to help her. She had to get up and search for her parents and the others. They must've survived the blast, oh please let them have survived the blast! She drew on all the power of her father that ran through her blood stream and defied the awful pain by sitting up. The throbbing ache took her breath away and now that she had moved, every time she filled her lungs it sent shooting pains through her chest and back, and an odd slushy gurgle followed each time she exhaled. She thought for a moment of just lying back down to stop the agony, but she couldn't. She had to find out what happened to everybody else. CJ gritted her teeth and pushed herself upright using the tree behind her as a back support. Her legs collapsed beneath her and she fell in a trembling heap back to the ground. Warm fluid filled her mouth and she recognized that taste. She coughed and more blood came up her throat. Not good. Not good at all. She knew that much from the little bit of television that her parents allowed her to watch. Coughing up blood brought paramedics running. Well she knew that nobody would be arriving to rescue her. Not way out here where her parents built the house, as far away from civilization as possible but without making it too difficult to go back into the city. Nope, no ambulance or police car would be pulling up out here. She had to try again to gain her footing. Her legs felt strange, and she wondered if maybe she had a spinal injury but no, she could feel her legs they just didn't want to cooperate with her. The right leg looked funny too, crooked. She smoothed her fingertips over the crooked part of her leg right above the knee and felt sharp, hard lumps under the skin—gross, her leg had snapped apart. Strange that she felt no pain from that ugly looking break. In the distance, the sound of something very heavy falling brought her out of her musing and her head snapped in the direction of the low rumble. Might be her Mom or her Dad! "Dad!” This time she made sound with her throat instead of just croaking in a whisper but it still came nowhere near to being a shout. Flopping over on her belly, CJ tried to get on her knees and crawl but her broken right leg picked that moment to start pounding as if someone beat her with a sledgehammer. The beating continued even after she got off her knees but it did lessen just a bit. Using her elbows, she pulled her body a few inches along the ground. No body parts revolted against this movement so she repeated it, dragging herself a little farther along. The stones under her chest rolled with her and though sharp and uncomfortable, the tumbling rocks helped her move. Scratches covered her exposed arms and legs but she ignored the small oozing cuts. Compared to her other injuries they amounted to nothing. Before the accident a small cut would be enough to send her running to her mom for her tender ministrations. Her mom! "Mom." She had to find Mom. Her parents would be so mad when they did find her. They hated it when CJ came up missing. They worried sometimes when she only went out for a walk without telling them. A sharp rock stabbed into the flesh near her elbow and she yelped. It slid in at just the right angle to penetrate the skin and hang there. CJ had to pull it out and then she watched as the blood welled up and ran over her arm to seep into the dirt beneath. The blood turned maroon as it dripped into the soil then as it

disappeared it left behind a brick red tint to the sandy ground. The thirsty ground drank up every drop, vampire soil drinking her blood. So tired. Pain became her loyal companion, always there, always trying to gain her attention by flaring to unbearable levels. It left her gasping, with tears in her eyes and a little less hope in her heart. Despite her fatigue and agony she continued to pull her body along the ground, both elbows and forearms now bloody and bruised but on she went. She made her way around a larger boulder then stopped for a moment to look for the house. Her heart shriveled in her chest. The house stood no longer. A pile of smoking rubble left in its place the only indication that a house had been there at all. Bricks and debris scattered about the yard and CJ saw shingles from the roof lying just a few feet from her. Nothing alive there. No, she would not accept that. They had to be alive! Nothing could kill her kin. No, no, no! "Dad?” She called between sobs. "Mom?" "Ben?" "Anybody...” Her head fell forward and struck the ground. Tiny pebbles embedded into her forehead that she ignored as she gulped for air. It just couldn't be. This could not happen. It could not happen to her. As still as the predawn hours, nothing stirred. No signs of life and the only movement she saw, the tendril of smoke still wafting from the devastation of their home and their entire lives. Everything she had ever known, in two lifetimes, gone in the blink of an eye. Alone again in an alien world strewn with bits of loved ones, bits of a home built by the hands of loved ones, devoid of anything other than pain and misery. A buzzard circled overhead. Chaos rolled to her back to watch the graceful bird of death as it soared on a thermal above the ruins. Long black wings with a gap in one side where a feather or two had been lost. Despite the loss, the vulture still stayed afloat. But CJ had lost more than a feather, she had lost everything that mattered to her. She closed her eyes refusing to watch the harbinger of death as it circled the ruins. Bitterness. Ugly. She wanted to tear the head off that bird with her teeth. From miles away it followed the scent of death on the air, and arrived here to peck the eyes from her mother, her father and her friends. She would kill that evil bird before it could devour her family. So far away but she still heard its faint call. It sounded more like a human moan, so muffled. Her brain froze. Human moan? In a flash she turned over onto her belly, screaming in agony afterwards and coughing as the fluid stirred in her injured lungs. She silenced herself, holding her breath and straining to hear that moan again. There it was again! Very faint, a low groan coming from the ruined house. Someone did live through the explosion! It had to be true. It just had to be. With renewed purpose Chaos pulled her body across the stony ground toward the wreckage of the house. She stopped to rest every few feet and removed the pebbles that managed to embed themselves in her flesh. She transcended the pain that had grown to proportions not known to exist in her world. Every movement brought more hurting. Every breath brought more hurting. She hurt when she crawled along and she hurt when she didn't move at all. She wanted to cry, but that brought more pain too. The desire to just give up, to just lie down and die grew stronger and stronger, but someone still lived under all that rubble and that someone needed her help. Onward she crawled on her elbows and stomach, sometimes managing to pull her body with her hands as well, to inch along closer and closer. Debris littered the entire area and most of it appeared unrecognizable. Bricks, boards, parts of furniture, cabinets, appliances, fixtures ... it all looked the same, like bric-a-brac thrown carelessly in a heap. CJ now had to not only dodge the usual rocks in her path but also bits and pieces from the explosion and many of the particles had twisted, sharp points and edges. She found one of the burners from the stove and the neck of the kitchen faucet. At the far side of the yard, she noted the door, blown off the house in one piece, lying on top of other debris. In her path, a shoe, had to be one of her dad's shoes, and part of what appeared to be the washing machine mixed with bricks and other building materials from the exterior of the house. It looked as if the exploding bomb blew the house apart but then sucked it back in because it appeared that the inner walls had collapsed in on themselves and remained on the slab where the house once stood. Very difficult to tell since CJ knew very little

about explosions or bombs or any of that secret army stuff. Regardless, it looked awful and she saw no signs of any of the others. The fact that no body parts could be found in the outside debris gave her some relief. She expected to find hands, arms, legs, feet, and heads scattered everywhere in the yard and she imagined herself crying and hysterical as she tried to put her family back together—like puzzles with many of the crucial pieces missing. Dusk approached and she needed to hurry before darkness fell and she had insufficient light for searching. No more moans issued from the pile of debris. Chaos had no idea where to start or even how she would move anything more than a small brick. She had to try though so she pushed her battered body into a sitting position and leaned against a larger section of the splintered wall. She lifted chunks of broken furniture and busted framing, slivers of rugs and parts of a light fixture. Fragment by tiny fragment, she tossed the debris to the side. At this rate, she felt like she would die before she found anyone buried beneath this overwhelming amount of rubble. Shoving a larger portion of the countertop over she caught of glimpse of dark colored hair! Dark hair matted with blood. No way of knowing who belonged to that hair since a large chunk of fractured wall pinned the body down. CJ had no hope of being able to move it off the unfortunate soul buried there. Smoothing the dark hair down, she drew her fingers back and studied the thick blood there. Who did it belong too? Her parents both had dark hair as well as Linnea. Could be any one of them and here she sat, helpless to assist any of them. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she mourned for her lost family, silent misery. All that blood, who could survive that much trauma? Even supernatural beings had their vulnerabilities. Being blown apart by a horrific explosion seemed to be beyond their limits. "Hello Poppet.” Chaos jerked her head around to see whom the lilting voice belonged to. A tall male stood beside her, peering at her as if he thought her the prettiest woman on the planet. CJ studied him as he studied her. Very tall and lanky, chiseled cheeks and nose and a jutting chin. Clean-shaven, but very long hair, tied back in a ponytail. His eyes bored into her, steel chips of cruel reflective gray. An inkling of fear touched her heart, quickening her battered pulse. "Looks like there was a bit of an accident here, eh?” He looked at the smoldering mass with a smile on his lips. Why the hell did he smile at this atrocity? She needed his help to save her family though so she thought she should be as nice as possible to him. "Will you help me, please?" His smile vanished as he scrutinized her. He bent over at the waist and put his hand under her chin, lifting her face to the rising moon. A frown creased his narrow face and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Oh child. You are damaged. It would seem you are damaged quite severely.” The stranger slid his arm beneath her knees and wrapped the other around her back, lifting her from the ground. CJ ground her teeth together to keep the screams inside. The agonizing pain ate away at her consciousness. "We will just see about fixing you up then, Poppet. No worries.” He smiled into her face, wider this time and the last thing she saw before she blacked out ... sharp fang teeth. **** Through a thick fog of misery, Chaos felt his ministrations. Bony fingers ran down each of her ribs and she moaned as the agony spread like wild fire from every gentle stroke. Many of the ribs moved as he touched them, and some even crunched as the broken ends ground together. She flinched and she heard him clicking his tongue again, then the sharp prick of a needle in her arm. "That should help some, with the pain. I cannot bring you to the hospital, you know. I have to mend your broken bones here or not at all, so please try to remain still." CJ tried looking around the room, but the bright lights shining in her face blinded her to the surroundings and the drugs traveling through her bloodstream made her groggy. At least they helped with the aches. She could now withstand his attentions without wincing or crying out. "Where are my parents? Did you dig them out of the rubble?” Her garbled words seemed to aggravate him and he wrapped the

thick tape around her ribs with more erratic movements than he had used before she spoke. He didn't answer so she asked again. "Are my parents all right? You did help them, right?" He tossed the tape on the table beside her, his breathing heavy as he lowered the light so she could see his face. "Your parents are dead. Everyone at that place is dead. You are lucky to be alive, yourself.” He paused a moment then continued. “If you don't keep still, you may yet die as well." "I don't care if I die!” CJ gasped and had to wait till she could catch her breath. “What do I have to live for if everyone I love is dead?” Through her tears, she saw his stoic expression and knew that he had no true compassion for her. His lack of concern worried her and, crying in silence, she said nothing more. Though she said she didn't care if she died, she wanted no more pain, and from the looks of this man, he could bring her great pain if he chose to. So far, he'd been nothing but humane towards her, but the malevolent glint in his eyes spoke volumes about his true character. This man could not compare to her father or Ben or even the charming redhead, Milo. "Lie back so I can set your leg. I am sorry, but this will hurt.” He pushed against her chest to make her lie back against the pillows. Before she could prepare herself for the inevitable pain, he reached with both hands to her thigh and snapped the bones back into place. Black spots appeared before her eyes as the agony tore through her leg and she could swear that it ripped through her bowels too. She tried to stop herself, but she screamed. The stranger's hand clamped over her mouth as he whispered to her. "Shhhhhhh. I warned you that it would hurt. Shhhhhhh. No screaming now, Poppet.” His hand smelled of rubbing alcohol and she hated it. She hated him. She wanted to hurt him as he had just hurt her even if it did make her leg better in the long run. When he satisfied himself that she didn't intend to scream again, he let go of her mouth. "What the hell is a Poppet?” She spat at him with all the pent up rage brought on by severe pain. He seemed taken aback by her tone and he cocked his head and shook his finger in her face. "Uh uh uh. We will have none of that young lady. You will behave or you will find yourself trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.” He looked up and down her bandaged body. “Well you are already trussed up but I can include a gag with all your other wrappings, if I deem it necessary." After watching her face for a moment he moved away and then returned with more dressings. He wrapped up her broken leg with an efficiency that made Chaos think he had to be a medical doctor, like her father. As he applied strip after strip of the plaster, he hummed a song under his breath that she had never heard before. A haunting melody that reminded her of the old scary movies Linnea enjoyed watching on late night television. At the most frightening moments, CJ on the edge of the sofa holding her breath, Linnea would burst into peals of laughter that reminded CJ of glass wind chimes tinkling with the summer breeze. Her chin dropped to her chest in utter dejection. She would never again hear that laugh. The glass chimes shattered in the wind— the wind carried a lethal storm that gave no advance warning and spared none. "What is to become of me now?” She watched him as she waited for his answer. “And, who are you?" He busied himself finishing her cast, then cleaning up the mess, not once meeting her gaze. As he turned to leave the room, she stopped him by clearing her throat as loud as she could. He looked back over his shoulder at her, an obvious warning in those crunched brows and tight, turned-down lips. She gulped, but she had to know! "Please, at least tell me what to call you.” He hesitated as if he didn't want to tell her his name. She had no clue why it would matter, but after his offer to add a gag to her wrappings she decided not to push him.

"My name is Charles.” Short, rude words. He spun around and rushed out the door before she could comment. CJ muttered to herself. “Can I call you Charlie?" "Not if you wish me to answer.” His quip floated down the hall to her from another room. So, he had that super hearing like her parents too. Sweet. The ache in her chest swallowed her whole and the loss of her parents hurt far worse than the broken ribs. Why did she survive when everyone else perished? Why? They deserved to live far more than she did. What good had she done for the world or even for her family? Nothing but trouble, all she gave them, trouble, trouble, trouble. And in return her mother and father doted on her, giving her everything her heart desired and then some. "It's not fair! It's just not fair.” No one could hear her now. No one to wipe her tears and no one to mend her broken heart. No amount of tape or plaster could fix the deepest and most horrific wound of all. Charles returned and stood towering over her as she reclined on the leather futon. He watched her, a question there on the tip of his tongue and she wondered why he didn't just ask. Lifting his hand, he ran a long index finger over his lips, then flipped his ponytail back and settled his lanky body onto the matching leather ottoman next to her. Hands on his knees he studied her face, looking from the hollows under her eyes to her pale lips and back again to her eyes. "Are you hungry?” His question surprised her and she hadn't even thought of food. She shook her head no, but her negative response didn't satisfy him because he continued to examine her face with an intensity that began to make her fidget. "I'm not talking about human food, child. You have lost a considerable amount of blood. With your unique physiology, I don't quite know what to offer you.” He stood again, but reached to touch her chin and tilt her face up to him. "You let me know if there is—something that you need and I will see what I can do. I want you to mend quickly." "Why?” She couldn't stop herself from asking. "Why? Well, I don't feel right carrying you everywhere and we have a long distance to travel to return to my home." "I don't want to leave MY home!" A flash of anger crossed his face, but he forced it away and paced the floor beside her prone form. His jaw moved back and forth as he thought about something unpleasant—she sensed that much with ease. "Your past home is no more. Your home is with me now, so it would be best if you didn't dwell on the past. You have no one else, but me." "I want to see it. I want to see them!" He winced as she raised her voice but he managed to remain calm despite her growing frustration. "That is quite impossible. I will not listen to you whine about it further, child." "I am not a child and my name is CJ!" His face darkened and wrinkled so that he looked like an old prune and she wanted to bite her tongue. "Well CJ, you will not raise your voice to me again or I will punish you like the child you say you are not. Is that understood?" She glared back at him, but didn't answer. He stopped pacing and put his loathsome hand on her shoulder, pressing down until her ribs screamed in agony. "Is that understood?"

"Yes.” She moaned and reached to push his hand away but it didn't budge. After she stopped trying he lifted his hand, then bent his knees to sit back on his heels and stared into her face. "If you attempt to cross me, you will fail. Remember this. Now, heal yourself.” As if she had some control over the healing of her body. He got up and crossed the room to leave but then turned back as if thinking twice about leaving. "I have to go out. Stay where you are or you will cause further damage to your already severely injured body." CJ listened as he left and heard the door close and lock with a key. As his footsteps faded, CJ rolled off the divan and fell to the floor with an agonizing thud. The pain coursed through her body, beating a faltering rhythm of stabbing aches through every rib in her chest. As the pain withdrew to the point that she could draw a breath, CJ realized that her poor body did not have the strength to go an inch farther than where she fell. **** Lachlan moved the scattered debris and a saw a foot sticking out under the door. He lifted it and found Colin underneath, legs and arms splayed out at odd angles, his head covered with blood from a massive wound. He appeared dead, but when Lachlan reached to feel for a pulse Colin's eyes flickered open just a crack. "Hello!” Thrilled to see that Colin lived, Lachlan shouted his greeting. His own injuries had begun to heal hours ago, but Colin didn't appear to be healing at all. He stared up at Lachlan, his gaze growing steadier as he concentrated on Lachlan's face. His lips moved, but no sound came. He wet his lips with his tongue and tried again to speak. "Who are you?"

Fourteen "Are you joking with me at a time like this? I hardly think it is appropriate." Lachlan's sad smile vanished. Colin had already lapsed back into oblivion. At a loss, Lachlan slumped on the rubble nearby. Lachlan needed his strength to heal his own severe injuries or he would be of no use to anyone. He couldn't afford to feed Colin his blood unless he replaced his own first. The gaping wound to his gut flapped open again and he held it closed with his fingers as he tried to decide on a course of action. He could slink off and return home, leaving this family to recuperate by themselves. The others may already be dead, but Colin lived, for now. He leaned over and brushed aside Colin's hair to look at the terrible head wound. The bone of his skull gleamed where the skin and flesh had been torn away and blood continued to seep from the yawning injury. Lachlan noted that the skull itself sustained a ragged fracture at least as long as the torn flesh. It appeared that Colin had been right outside the door when the explosion hit and the door blasted off the house smacking him with a mind-boggling amount of force. A miracle that Colin survived at all—but he did. Lachlan couldn't leave him, but he needed to feed and he needed to feed now. Stumbling back to the large pile of debris, he lucked out and found some cloth right on top, and tore it into long strips to wrap his abdomen and Colin's head. He tied a tight strip around himself to hold his intestines in, and then went back to his friend. His chest rising as he drew a shallow breath, Colin clung to life. Lachlan wrapped Colin's grave injury with the rough material and tucked it in behind his head to make a pillow with the extra fabric. He recognized that beige cloth. It came from the family room drapes behind the sofa, and they were on top of the heap, undamaged for the most part. Lachlan stood and had to wait until the throbbing in his ripped entrails stopped before he could start walking to the nearest town. Too bad he didn't bring any of his artificial blood with him from the lab. He needed it now, desperately. Instead, he would have to hunt down a live victim and hope that the chosen one didn't fight his mesmerism. He didn't possess the power to take anyone by force, other than perhaps, a young child. Running along, stopping to rest often, it took him hours to reach the nearest town. Dawn approached and that meant he would have to walk back during the day, with no shade to keep the bright Texas sun off his skin. Filled with dread, Lachlan prowled the streets in search a lone human. An older woman stood in front of the café, working with swollen arthritic fingers to get the lock open. Lachlan smiled at her and approached. The horrified look on her face stunned him, and he looked down to see what about his appearance had shocked her so. His shirt hung in tatters and the curtain tied around his middle dripped with blood. No wonder! "Oh my God, are you okay?” She rushed up to him, her hands out as if to catch him before he fell over. Lachlan allowed her to put her arms around him, and then he drove his fang teeth into the side of her neck as she held him. She didn't even feel the prick of his teeth and she continued to pat him on the back until her knees grew weak and he grew stronger. In moments, their roles reversed and Lachlan held her in his arms as he kissed her throat and told her thank you for the help. Then he took the keys from her hands, opened the door for her and sent her inside. A jeep drove up to the corner and a young man carrying an armload of newspapers got out. He opened the machine and filled it full then turned to get back in the jeep bumping into Lachlan who now stood behind him. "Oh sorry man.” He noticed the bloodstained wrapping. “Holy shit, what happened to you?" Lachlan stared into his face, relaxing him, making him want to sit on the curb and take a nap. The boy sat down, leaning against the lamppost as he gazed up at Lachlan through glassy, drugged eyes. His head lolled to one side and Lachlan dove for his throat. He took only what he needed, then he left the adolescent sleeping on the curb. Feeling much stronger, Lachlan climbed into the jeep, put it into gear, and took off toward the edge of town. Driving beat the heck out of running across the wide expanse of rockstrewn wilderness. The jeep traveled well across the rocky terrain with only minor damage to the undercarriage. Without an injury he could make that

trip in only an hour or two but not now, not with the horrible damage to his internal organs. Even with the help of the blood, he hadn't reached his full strength. The jeep made the trip a bit faster and he didn't have to bake in the morning sun until he drew closer to Colin's house, or the remains of it. Large boulders made driving all the way into the yard impossible so he slid out of the seat and started out in a trot back to the scene of the explosion. Colin had not moved. Lachlan feared that he'd find his friend dead when he walked up, but Colin still had a weak heartbeat. "Colin." No response. "Colin!” He shouted this time but still got no response. Lachlan slapped his face, a light tap then a bit harder. After a drawn out moment, Colin opened his eyes just a crack and closed them. He had to move the damaged one out of the sun. Placing the door on the ground beside his body, Lachlan slid Colin over onto the door. Using it as a stretcher, he slid Colin over to the shade of the tall trees at the edge of the property. Sitting on the small boulder next to Colin, Lachlan noticed the dark spots in the sand beside his seat. Touching those spots with his fingers, he brought his hand to his nose and sniffed. As he suspected, dried blood. Not his and not Colin's either. Colin opened his eyes again and saw Lachlan. Squinting, he seemed to be trying to focus on the white mane flowing around Lachlan's head but found it too difficult and let his thick lashes fall to his cheeks again. "Where am I?” He spoke just loud enough to be heard. Lachlan picked up his hand and held it between his own. "You, my friend, are under a tree in your own yard.” Lachlan didn't want to overload Colin's damaged brain with too much information at once so he thought it safer to give him a short answer. "My yard?” That same tired, small voice. "Yes." "Who am I?" Lachlan fell off the rock and landed with a thud on his backside. So the brain trauma proved to be even more severe than it appeared. He had no clue how to answer, or even if he should. He needed help to dig out the others or he would rupture his gut even further. But it looked as if he would not be getting any help from Colin. The others would die if they were even still alive. They had to be rescued soon or not at all. "Colin, you need to drink this medicine, okay. Here, lift your head.” He put one arm under Colin's neck and forced his bleeding wrist into his mouth. The thick blood ran out of his mouth and down his neck. "Swallow dammit!" Colin gulped and swallowed then choked as the blood flowed down his throat but Lachlan would not allow him to lose any of the healing solution. "That's right, just drink it. That's a good man.” The color rose in Colin's pallid face, a delicate pink flush as if the sun rose over the horizon of his cheeks. Lachlan eased his wrist away and smiled when Colin smacked his lips. "That is all you need for now." Deep chocolate eyes met his, clarity there now, intelligence, and terrible, terrible pain. Lachlan sighed. "I imagine your head hurts, yes?"

Colin nodded once and winced. "You've cracked your skull.” Lachlan unwrapped the cloth from his head to check his injury. No more blood oozed from the torn flesh, but the angry crack in his skull had not begun to heal, at least on the outside. "It is bad?" Lachlan had no way of knowing how well or how rapidly Colin's injuries would heal. He hoped that the skull fracture was the worst of his problems. "Not too bad.” Lachlan lied through his teeth. Colin watched him, analyzing every inflection in his voice. "You lie poorly." "All right then, it is bad. But I don't think it is a mortal wound or you would be dead already.” He smiled down at Colin, trying to lighten his words with forced cheer, then went on. "I need your help, you see. Our companions are in serious trouble and if we don't move, and move soon, I fear the worst for them." "What do you mean? What has happened? What companions?” Colin shot questions at him in rapid succession, his frustration growing with each uttered syllable. “I can remember nothing! I am a blank slate, I tell you. I am here. That is all I can tell you. That, and the fact that my head hurts." Lachlan patted him on the shoulder, trying in his awkward way to console the young centenarian. "Have you noticed any other aches in your body? Do your arms and legs feel fully functional?' Colin groaned as he lifted each arm to flex it, then pushed himself to sit up. Cupping his head in his hands, he clenched his teeth and held back the girlish scream that he knew would spill forth if he let it. His wound began to ooze again and Lachlan moved to wrap the coarse bandage around his head tying it in a knot. "Thank you. You are very kind. Please, could you tell me your name?” Before Lachlan could answer, his gaze drifted to the wreckage of the house. Colin's eyes widened and he looked back to him, horror on his face. "What happened here?" Lachlan dropped his eyes to the ground, shaking his head as he fought with his worry over the others and his desire to keep Colin safe too. The two objectives contradicted each other and he couldn't decide how to resolve the problem and come out ahead. "I am Lachlan and an explosion blew this house apart, trapping several of our friends under the rubble. I need your help to remove the larger sections of the ruined building. I have an injury of my own that is taking most of my energies to heal. I am not at my strongest." "Argh,” Colin choked. “There are people under there?” With a trembling heave, he turned around to kneel on all fours then he put one foot underneath his body, then the other, and stood. He swayed, his hands cradling his head, but remained standing. He dropped his arms and then his nostrils flared and he lifted his right hand again to see the blood on his fingers. The world dropped away for him as he stared at the blood. Lachlan watched as his pupils dilated, growing huge, to cover his irises and the fangs descended into place. Colin put his fingers into his mouth and washed the blood from his skin with his tongue. He pulled his hand away—then noticed Lachlan standing nearby. Meeting Colin's hungry gaze, Lachlan pushed his tattered shirt off his shoulder. Bending his head over he exposed the bulging vein on the side of his neck, inviting Colin to take him.

"It's okay, my wounded companion. Come on. Just a sip." Colin moved at once, forgetting his pounding head and weak legs and dove at the tantalizing ribbon of pulsing ambrosia offered to him. Lachlan cradled Colin in his arms as his teeth drove through the flesh of his throat, nurturing him as he would a loved one. He could be too. He could love this extraordinary being with the head of curly black hair and regal features. But now, he needed help digging out Colin's family. "Okay, no more now, Colin.” He separated himself from Colin's greedy lips, applying gentle pressure to keep him off his throat until he gained control of his rampant thirst. Colin continued to push against his hands for a few more moments then he relaxed and stepped away, hanging his head. "Oh, for heaven's sake, don't be ashamed of what you are. We don't have time for this.” He grabbed Colin by the crook of his arm and led him over to the rubble, ignoring his attempts to pull out of his grasp. Lachlan released Colin's arm when they neared the crumbled back wall. He started removing smaller pieces of rubble and tossing them away from the pile. "Listen to me. Many, many hours have passed since the explosion. It could have been days for all I know. I awoke to find myself lying far away from the house and I stood in the upstairs hall when the house exploded. I have no idea how much time passed while I lay unconscious. And, it has taken many hours for me to gain enough strength to heal myself and rise. I have already searched the perimeter and you were the only one I found. Everyone else must be buried under all this debris—somewhere." He lifted another large chunk of sheetrock and saw the dark hair underneath! "Look! Someone is here.” Lachlan pointed to the strands of hair protruding from under a large section of tumbled ceiling. "Get that side.” Colin moved to lift the opposite end of the slab, stumbling through the broken fragments of his home, which he didn't even remember. Together, the two of them were able to lift the plank and move it outside the area. Linnea lay underneath, whole, but as still as death, limbs at odd angles. Sharp debris impaled several parts of her body. Her skin had an odd blue/green tint to it that frightened Lachlan more than the obvious broken appendages. No apparent heartbeat, but it could be too faint to hear. Colin moved to her side, careful not to push any more rubble on her battered body, and leaned down to put his ear to her chest. "She is alive, but I believe both lungs are collapsed. She needs a chest tube in each side.” Colin bent over and tilted her head back to open her airway. He blew a puff of air from his lungs into hers. Her chest rose and fell once. He blew again and watched her chest rise. And again he forced air into her lungs. She coughed, a feeble pathetic cough but still, she tried to clear her lungs! Both males watched her heave and take a shallow breath on her own. The rescuers smiled at each other, excited now that at least one more victim of this disaster survived. "We are a very resilient species.” Lachlan's voice drifted off as he stared across the pile of rubble. "Hmm. Yes, I see that. Should we not get her into the shade over there and out of this sun?” Colin pointed to the trees at the edge of the debris field. "I'll go get the door that I used to move your body. Just a moment.” Lachlan jumped to the ground, forgetting his internal damage and he doubled over and rolled when the pain stabbed through him. He got up, flipping back his long white hair and brushing himself off as if he meant to roll as he landed. Then, he walked with his head held high to the small copse of trees and retrieved the door that had now become their stretcher and backboard combined. "How are we to slide that under her body with all this rubble in the way?” Colin motioned to all the various pieces of the house around her. His head pounded in time with his arm movements, and he reached up to touch his forehead, pushing as if the pressure could subdue his pain. Lachlan placed the door as close to Linnea's body as he could, then he climbed the pile to kneel by her shoulders.

"Help me lift her and place her on the door. Dredge into that bruised brain of yours and remember your medical training, Colin. Dammit, I need you! Come on, think of her as one of your former human patients, for at this moment she is little more than that despite her advanced age and power.” Lachlan glared up at him. Colin stopped pressing his head and let his hand fall. After a moment of hesitation, he moved to Linnea's feet and put his hands around her ankles, then changed his mind and put his hands around her knees. Again, wrong. Then, he crawled around to her side and put his hands under her back and buttocks. Nodding at Lachlan, they lifted at the same time and eased her onto the door. When they moved Linnea, Colin saw a sock clad foot beneath her. "There is another one here. Or at least part of one." "Let's get Linnea over to the shade and come back to dig him out.” Lachlan lifted one end of the door and waited for Colin to grab the other. They staggered out of the wreckage, trying to keep Linnea level and as still as possible. Under other circumstances this situation might be amusing. The mortally wounded digging out the other mortally wounded—from the rubble of an explosion that would have killed ordinary humans—and yet they survived. As they entered the shady area Colin almost fell, his legs still not responding to all the messages his brain sent. He managed to catch himself by leaning on a tree trunk, and he lowered his end of the door to the ground before his legs gave out. "You rest here a moment, perhaps put your head between your knees. I'll go back and dig out the other one.” Lachlan turned to head back to the house when Colin grabbed his arm. "Lachlan, look at your binding.” Colin shifted his eyes to Lachlan's stomach then back to his face. “Perhaps you should rest as well, if only for a moment." The makeshift bandage tied around his belly wound was soaked with fresh blood. For the first time in millennia, Lachlan felt weak and nauseated. "Stay here my friend. I will go search for the others.” Colin climbed to his feet and staggered back to the house. Lachlan watched him totter across the rubble strewn yard. He realized that Colin's amnesia was the only thing that kept him alive. If not for that, he would be scrambling like a mad man to dig his wife and child and other loved ones from that heap of smoking calamity. Lachlan had no doubt Colin would kill himself to find them. In Colin's present state of mind, he searched through the debris to help some strangers in need. He pushed himself to help them, but he still had reason to fall back on. Lachlan followed Colin to the disaster zone. They uncovered the next body much easier than the first and this body appeared to be all in one piece with only the head trapped. They worked together to remove the kitchen cabinets from his head and as soon as the sun beamed down on Milo's face, he opened his eyes. Blinking in the strong sunlight, Milo coughed, then tried to sit up. Colin assisted him, and he managed to crawl from the rubble on his own. Milo passed his tongue over his dusty lips and coughed again before he spoke. “Linnea? She ran right beside me before..." Colin helped him stand and pointed to the shade where Linnea lay, still unconscious. "Is that...” Colin began, but Lachlan interrupted. "She is alive, but that is all we can say for now." Seeing the blank look on Colin's face, Lachlan turned to him. “Colin, this is your good friend, Milo." Milo glanced over at Colin and noticed the curtain wrapped around his head. He met Lachlan's gaze and nodded, beginning to understand. He had a lot to take in.

Lachlan watched Milo as he walked favoring his right leg, and his back looked a little crooked, but otherwise he seemed fine. Amazing that he'd escaped with so few injuries. "Please rest a moment Milo, then we could use your help to search for Joanna, Ben and Chaos. You two are the only ones we have found so far." "Joanna and Ben were in the kitchen with us so they should be close by. I have no idea where Chaos was when the bomb went off." "The bomb?” Lachlan now understood the cause of the disaster. "Yes, we heard it start ticking only seconds before it blew. We had no chance to escape." "Hmm. Must've been planted by those assailants that you and Linnea dispatched. Not that it matters now. I'm going to search further.” Lachlan spun on his heel and returned to the shattered house. Milo checked on Linnea. He smoothed the hair back from her face and found that she breathed on her own. She seemed to be resting as comfortably as possible, so he followed behind Lachlan to help with the search. Milo stopped in mid-step. Something about Linnea bothered him. He had fed from her not long before the explosion. He wondered if the infusion of her powerful blood had kept him somewhat safe. A few broken ribs, perhaps a broken pelvis ... other than that, he seemed fit. But then he looked back at her. The thought occurred to him that she would heal faster if he fed her from his own veins so he turned back. He owed it to her to at least try. It couldn't hurt. Kneeling beside her, he spoke with the quietest voice into her ear. "Linnea. I am here for you. I am opening my vein to you so you drink and heal yourself." Milo ... I am here! Am I alive then? I can't move, Milo. I am afraid. "I hear you! I hear you inside my head. You are not dead, Linnea. You are in a coma while your body heals itself. We are taking care of you, Lachlan and myself. Colin had a brain injury but he is alive, just not all there. I am putting my wrist into your mouth now, please try to swallow, Linnea." He tore his wrist with his sharp teeth and pulled her mouth open to thrust the bleeding tear between her lips. His blood filled her mouth and she swallowed. The blood clotted and the wound closed up. Milo continued to tear open his skin. feeding her his blood until she stopped taking it. Her heartbeat did sound steadier afterwards and he felt certain that his blood helped. "You rest now. I'm going to help search for the others.” He kissed her on the forehead, and licked the blood from her lips before he rose to go back out into the sun to dig for his buried friends. "Milo!” Lachlan yelled. “Hurry!" Lumbering as fast as his twisted pelvis would allow him to move, Milo rushed over to glimpse another body under several layers of wreckage. Warped appliances, bits and pieces of the ceiling and walls and even parts of the den furniture had piled up on top of this unlucky soul. The lower half of one arm and one foot protruded from the precarious looking stack. "Do you think we could lift this rubble and just pull this one out?” Colin tried it just to see if it might be possible. “I think two of us together could lift this enough for the other to slide the body out." "I think you are right, Colin. You hold onto the hand and the foot and Milo and I will lift the wreckage. Be ready to pull and pull as hard as you can. If we drop it back on him, it may very well kill him if he is not already gone.” Lachlan held the limp hand in his grip, smoothing the tiny blonde hairs on the back of the hand. "This is Benjamin.” Hiding his worried grimace, he put Ben's hand into Colin's waiting grasp.

Lachlan and Milo bent at the knees and put all their strength into lifting the heap off of Ben's prone form. It worked. They were able to lift it several inches and Colin slid Ben's body out with ease. They let the debris fall back down and they turned Ben over. Sadness gripped their hearts. His once handsome face—total devastation. Dried, crusted blood covered a labyrinth of deep gashes in his cheeks, forehead and chin. His upper lip had swollen to twice its normal size and his teeth had bitten through portions of his lower lip, leaving large chunks of lip missing. Under the slashes in his forehead an enormous lump covered most of the area above his eyebrows, and one eye may never open again. His collarbone protruded through the skin and ended in a shattered stump that stuck out the neck of his bloody t-shirt. His pants were gone along with his shoes and one sock. His legs had enough cuts and bruises on them to rival his face. Lachlan lifted his shirt and shook his head, his hope dropping even lower when he saw the deep violet bruising covering Ben's entire abdomen. Colin gasped. “Internal bleeding. How can he still draw breath with all these critical injuries?" "He has a very strong Creator,” said Milo. "And a very strong will to live,” added Lachlan. “Well, let's get him over to the shade." "I will carry him.” Colin pushed the others away and bent to lift Ben in his arms. With strength the others didn't think he possessed, he carried the wounded young man to the shade and placed him on the ground beside Linnea. Lachlan and Milo glanced at each other and then watched him, hoping that maybe his brain healed somewhat and his memory had started to return. But after placing Ben next to Linnea, Colin looked down at the two injured ones for a moment and with an abrupt turn on the ball of his foot marched back to Lachlan and Milo. "How many more people are trapped in this tumble down place?" Lachlan stared for a moment, wondering if Colin's brain would ever heal. "There are two more missing, but we are not certain they are both in this rubble. The younger girl was last seen outside the house before the bomb exploded." Lachlan dropped his gaze from Colin, hiding his emotions. How could he tell this poor injured man that the two missing ones are his wife and daughter? Without lifting his head, he cut his eyes over to Milo who stared back at him, the same question on his face. Lachlan shook his head to let him know that he would not tell Colin anything and he should keep his mouth shut as well. Glass shards contaminated the area, and everyone collected more cuts, adding to previous injuries from the explosion itself. It could not be helped if they wanted to find Joanna and the child, Chaos. Removing layer after layer of trash, they continued to search until all three collapsed, with the screaming pain from their wounds, and utter exhaustion. The sun dropped behind the granite hills with a fatalistic charm that rendered them silent as they watched the brilliant colors fade to purple. Night took over the countryside like an invading army, killing the sparkle of the marbled pink stone with a cloak of darkness and stealing away the warmth of the sun in one fell swoop. The waning moon hung low over the horizon and the lack of illumination made the destroyed house look more like a mysterious alien moonscape than the remains of a terrible catastrophe. With a heavy heart, Lachlan stood and looked at his companions. “I'm going back in. The sooner we find the others, the sooner we can lick our wounds and leave this place." Milo and Colin followed Lachlan into the rubbish pile and once again began to remove the obstacles. Steady and methodical— they didn't want to miss a person in this mess. Milo shook his head. “I can't even tell what most of this crap once was.” Lachlan nodded in agreement. "Yes, for me as well. It looks like the second floor collapsed onto the first floor in this area. It would explain why there is so much more rubble here. But Milo, you said that you were all in the kitchen when the bomb exploded. Why were the three of you so close to the outside of this mess and Joanna is nowhere to be seen?"

"I have no clue. I think that the explosion blew us out first, and since rubble piled on top of us so fast, we didn't get sucked back in. Joanna must have been sucked back in and then the second story collapsed on top of her. She has to be here! We must get this second story floor lifted." "Okay, come on Colin, let's work together now and lift these larger sections of the floor.” Lachlan motioned to the largest portion that lay at an odd angle near his feet. They spaced themselves around the floor section, then lifted it and moved it to the side. Lachlan saw her first and moved faster to get the concrete off of her body. He put his end down and in a flash he jumped into the crater left by the floor segment. With a shaking hand, he reached down for her. "Oh no. Oh no. Oh, merciful gods, no."

Fifteen Milo rushed over to Lachlan to see what awful thing he'd found. When he saw the body he tried to head Colin off, to prevent him from seeing her, but he pushed past him anyway and jumped down beside Lachlan in the crater. "Who is she?” His voice a strangled whisper, Colin stared down at the body. Lachlan wanted to slap Colin. His hand itched to feel the skin of his face and he fought the impulse. Colin couldn't help it, and he must refrain from being angry at Colin for his lack of emotion. "This is Joanna—this was Joanna." "Can we bring her back?” Milo had tears in his eyes for the lovely life lost. "No. We cannot. Her body is damaged beyond any repair. Her skull is crushed. Her body is crushed. I imagine that she died in an instant." "I'll look for something to wrap her body in.” Milo found a bedspread not far from where Joanna died, pretty good shape too, not many tears at all in it. Careful to keep her brains inside her head and her organs inside her body, or as near to it as possible, they rolled her in the spread and left her there, wrapped like a mummy in black, teal and tan geometric cloth. Colin displayed no emotion other than the sorrow one feels when confronted with a lost life. He showed no indication that he knew his beloved wife Joanna was lost to him—forever. Colin and Milo continued to search for the last missing person, while Lachlan tended to the two injured beings yet to regain consciousness. The external wounds had begun to heal. Cuts and scrapes grew new pink tissue and huge gashes shrank in size and no longer oozed blood. Bruises faded to greenish splotches, still a vibrant oasis in an otherwise colorless complexion. The enormous bump on Benjamin's head had shrank to half the size that it had been when they found him, and his eye no longer protruded behind the lid, having sunk back into the socket as the inflammation diminished. Good that he no longer resembled a Pekingese dog. Lachlan realized as he studied Benjamin that the collarbone no longer protruded. That injury would not heal by itself, and the only other person to have touched him, Colin, must have set it as he carried him. Perhaps he also fed him, since he healed as if he had been given an infusion. But why did Colin hide this from him? No clue. How could one understand the workings of a damaged mind? What might send him into a frenzy, a fit of depression, a suicidal rampage? Would he snap like a crazed cult leader and endanger them all or would he regain his senses in time to deal with the horror of losing his wife and maybe his child as well? Perhaps it would be better for him if he never regained his memory and never knew the awful pain that waited for him at the end of that long dark path back to reality. **** Chaos yawned and stretched her arms over her head. The pain in her ribs had abated some and the thought of escaping Charles again crossed her mind. Although he didn't seem cruel by any means, she wanted her freedom and longed to visit her home and see the destruction for herself. She just couldn't bring herself to believe that her parents were dead and she wouldn't believe it unless she saw their bodies or their graves herself. It couldn't be true. It made sense, but still, she refused to be convinced of it. Why though had no one come looking for her in the days she had been in the house with Charles? If she knew her dad at all, she knew that he would not rest if his daughter were missing! He'd proven that in the past when Linnea took her away, and that had just been to a cave not far from her home. Nothing made sense to her. "Are you hungry, CJ?” She startled and glared at him for sneaking up on her. Although he kept his temper in check and had brought her no pain, his threats were enough to keep her in line. He had already stressed the importance of respect to her, several times, so she held her tongue and didn't smart off the way she wanted to. "Yes, I'm hungry.” Her angelic voice, so cloying that it made her gag but he loved it—and she knew it.

"What would you like then?” He seemed to enjoy taking care of her. She found it compelling but at the same time, rather repugnant. He was like a semi-tame wolf. Eager to please one minute and ready to eat you alive the next. "Can you cook at all? I never thought I would hear myself saying that I'm tired of fast food, but I am." He smiled, and it made him almost handsome as he flashed his even white teeth for her. CJ smiled back at him, though the smile never reached her eyes. A shallow smile for a shallow man, and he never noticed. "I'm sorry. I'm not a cook. I can get you anything you desire though, even if it isn't food. What do you desire, hmmm?” He moved closer and sat on the edge of the chair near her. Eager, too eager. Oh, hell, not that again. He had hinted several times that he would feed her his blood. She feigned ignorance. The thought of drinking his blood made her stomach turn inside out and the bile rise up her throat. She had to swallow several times to keep from gagging but she never let that stupid smile slip from her lips. "Oh, I don't know. How about a big salad with bacon bits and cheese and boiled eggs, oh and a bowl of clam chowder?” She almost laughed out loud when she saw his face turn a slight shade of green before he regained his composure. "Doesn't that sound delicious to you?” She asked with such innocence that she almost believed herself. He stood and made his way to the door before he turned back to answer her, the disappointment plain in his voice. "No, I will get you what you wish. Whatever you desire." After he left the room, CJ hopped on one leg to the window to watch him leave. In just a few minutes he walked down the front steps and turned down the street. He had the strangest walk, almost floating rather than planting one foot in front of the other. He reminded her of a cartoon character that spins its legs in a circle beneath him to move faster than a walk. How he got through town without someone noticing his oddities, she couldn't understand. How could the people in the restaurant not think of him as so strange that they called the police when they saw him come in? Nobody cared. Strange was considered a state of mind nowadays instead of a condition. Charles fit the description to a tee. Bizarre. Weird. Freak. She couldn't figure him out and she grew up with her crazy-in-love blood seeker parents, the hot Ben, and even stranger still, Linnea and her hairy alter ego. Someone walked by on the sidewalk below her window. She lifted her head and he smiled up at her. Ah, sooo cute! She smiled back and waved. This guy looked just like she imagined a surfer to look. Blonde hair with lighter highlights from the sun, tanned skin, nice muscled body—yum. In a way, he reminded her of a shorter version of Ben, but he did have a broader chest too, and longer hair. Too far away to see his eye color but she wanted his eyes to be blue like the ocean, blue like Ben's eyes. He held his hand up to his ear like he had a telephone and pointed at her. Oh, he wanted her phone number. She had no phone. Just then, a terrible thought crossed her mind. What would Charles do about her flirting with this boy? Would he kill him, maybe even in front of her? She shook her head, no and frowned, pulling her lips down in an exaggerated, dejected pout. He clutched his heart and dropped to one knee, feigning a broken heart, no doubt. She couldn't keep the frown in place and smiled at him again. Then, she waved her hand to shoo him away from the window, before Charles returned and caught him there. She didn't know what Charles would do. She couldn't figure him out. Chaos didn't even know why he'd picked her up and brought her here, caring for her as if he thought himself responsible for her injuries or responsible for her. She found that she feared him, but not as much as she feared her father when he threatened to punish her. And that seemed silly since she knew in her heart that her dad would never harm her. Charles had no reason not to harm her. Why did he do the things he did? She wanted to stay at least long enough to find out what his intentions toward her were. CJ possessed too much curiosity not to find that little tidbit out. She decided that she'd ask him as soon as he returned with her food, though she hoped that he couldn't find clam chowder anywhere.

She heard his key in the lock far sooner than she expected him to return. From the window the city didn't look like a large one and she'd hoped her request would keep him away for a while. Drat, his footsteps sounded on the stairs. He whisked into the room, carrying a plain white paper bag. "Here it is, your requested meal." He motioned for her to come to him as he set up a tray for her on the sofa. As he beckoned to her his arm looked like a thin dead tree branch waving in the midnight breeze and it gave her chills. She rubbed her arms up and down to brush off the goose bumps as she hopped back to the divan. As she tried to sit down, the long t-shirt he'd given her to wear snagged on the arm of the sofa and pulled up over her hips. She had on nothing but underwear beneath the shirt and she jerked her head up to see if he saw and he did, but he looked away instead of gawking. She yanked the shirt off the arm of the couch and pulled it down to her knees as she slid over on the sofa to the tray. "I would appreciate some pants to wear." "Nothing will fit over that cast, as you already know. I don't choose to keep you unclad, child. Would you like a skirt then? I would think it would be too confining but it is your decision. You just let me know should you need anything and we shall see if I can accommodate you." He put the bag down on the table and removed the salad and a Styrofoam container. "This was the best I could do. Sorry, no clam chowder.” He opened the container and stuck the spoon in it for her. "How does corn chowder sound?” Stirring it, he wrinkled his nose and pushed it toward her. She made no move to pick up the spoon or open the salad container. "What is corn chowder?" "Well the proprietor at the café said it is made of potatoes, cream, sausage and corn. She assured me that my niece would love it. Come on, try it." "Your niece?" "What would you have me say? The girl I kidnapped from the wreckage of her parent's ruined house wishes to eat human food instead of that which she is meant to consume as one of our brood? Would that be a better thing to say, CJ?" His expression alarmed her and she gasped. His face snapped back into a blank mask, showing no frustration, no anger, no emotion at all. Oh, how many times had she seen that frightening display of centenarian discipline? Until that moment, CJ remained hopeful that this Charles did not possess the strength of the older ones. Her optimism dropped to a new low. "Why am I here?” She forced herself to use the meekest voice she could muster. Smoky chips of glass, his eyes—no compassion, and no signs of life, just a looking glass of hazy gray. She knew he didn't intend to answer. "Please tell me why you have brought me here. What do you want? I know you are not a cruel man. Just tell me.” He still didn't intend to tell her anything. “I will not stop until you give me an answer.” This time she used the special whine she reserved for her parents. This whine she should have patented, because it never failed to work. "Enough. You tell me you are not a child but you've proven this statement false repeatedly. I will tell you if you promise to act mature about it and don't give me any grief.” He paused, waiting for her promise. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, his foot tapping, he showed his growing impatience with her hesitation. "Okay then, so you do not truly want to know. You can remain in ignorance, but I don't want to hear you complain again."

"I'm sorry. Please do tell me. I promise to be mature." "And not to give me any grief." "Yes, and not to give you any grief.” She smirked as he looked away because she had her fingers crossed the entire time. "Well, as the first female of our kind in a very long time, you are, quite literally, a prized possession. All the males, or rather, most of the males are clamoring to own you.” He noticed her confusion and took pity. "They want you as a mate, CJ. Surely you realize this?" She felt the blood drain from her face, and for a moment worried that she might faint. "Put your head down if you think you are going to swoon.” He spoke as if he knew everything there was to know about her. "I'm fine. Please do go on. But, you said that they want me as a mate. You don't?” She couldn't stop herself from asking and again her hopes grew. "My tastes lie in a different direction. However you are still very valuable to me. I can use you as a bargaining tool to gain the power and wealth I desire within my clan." So, a gay blood seeker had kidnapped her. What a riot. That would explain his gentle nature and the contradictory way he acted toward her. The inherent belligerent arrogance of the blood seeker species must be at war with his nurturing personality. What a relief to find out that he didn't want her as a mate. She could almost consider drinking his blood now too. Now, that gave her food for thought. If her conclusions were correct, she was safe until he brought her to his home. It seemed that he would use her as a bartering implement there and his reasons for getting her healed enough to travel made more sense now too. She had to escape his clutches before that time, without hurting him—too much. **** Milo fell to the ground near Lachlan and groaned, a small cloud of dust billowing from his clothes as he settled. "We have searched throughout the ruins and there are no other bodies. I would stake my life on it. The child is missing, but she is not there,” said Milo. Lachlan nodded in agreement. "What of Colin?” He glanced around the area and saw nothing stirring. "He said he needed to go into town for nourishment, then he turned and left before I could ask him if he knew where to go.” Milo picked up a group of pine needles and with his bruised fingers, weaved them into fragrant braids then dropped them back to the ground. "Do you think he will regain his memory soon?” Milo frowned. “In some ways, I wish him to remain in this amnesia state. It will kill him to learn of Joanna's death all over again. I have never seen two people so much in love, Lachlan." "I know. You are repeating yourself, but I understand. I am afraid he will lose control and it will be disastrous. You know him better than I do. What do you think he is capable of?” Lachlan studied the tired centenarian before him, such a valiant fellow and one that he was happy to call friend. "Colin is capable of anything. You should know this in advance.” Milo picked up more pine needles and twirled them into little knots. He had a pile of twisted, gnarled pine needles surrounding him now like a miniature forest of deformed conifers. "Well I had that impression about him, but I hoped this time I was mistaken. It will take the combined power of all four of us to

handle him, I'm afraid. What are we to do? We need to find the child as well." Milo scooted over to Linnea and bent down to listen to her breathing. She sounded stronger in that respect, but she hadn't spoken to him telepathically since the few sentences earlier. No doubt, she healed fast. His injuries had already healed so much that the pain in his ribs vanished and the twinges in his pelvis were few and far between now. Linnea being much older would be well enough to awaken soon. You are such a noise in my head, Milo. Nuhhh, let me rest so I can heal. "Sorry.” He kissed her forehead and moved away. Benjamin moaned and opened his good eye just a crack. His swollen eye would have to be pried open. "Joanna?” Milo crawled to his side now, careful to not bump Linnea as he made his way to the young Ben. "You are fine, Ben. We got you out of the rubble.” Milo told him, hoping he would not ask about Joanna again. "Joanna?” His mumbled word more urgent. Milo looked to Lachlan, lifting his shoulders in a shrug that said it all for both of them. They had no clue how to answer. "The truth is always for the best,” said Lachlan, his tone soft and full of compassion. “Go on, tell him." Why me? Milo screamed the words at Lachlan without saying them out loud. He knew the powerful millennial had to pick up on his message since it seemed they all had the ability to read minds when they chose to. If he screamed, Lachlan would hear it, even if he did not chose to listen. You are correct—rude, but correct. Pansy. I shall tell him then. "Move over then.” Lachlan nudged him out of the way so he could kneel beside Ben. His knees next to Ben's chest, he felt the heat from the young one's injured body through his pants. Amazing the heat that a healing blood seeker could release even when the body should be as cold as death. "Benjamin” He lifted Ben's hand and held it in his soothing grasp. “Son, you are lucky to be alive." He hesitated, knowing that the knowledge he had to share would devastate this already hurting young one. He patted Ben's hand and his heart restricted in his chest as he saw the tear fall from Ben's eye. He stared into Lachlan's face, tears now streaming from both eyes as he worked the swollen one open. "I am sorry, injured one. Joanna did not make it.” Ben closed his eyes again, his sorrow more than he could manage. The tears turned into bloody trails down his face then stopped as he lapsed into oblivion once more. "Help me rise, please.” Linnea's broken voice shattered the silence. "Nah, you need your rest.” Lachlan hid his shock at her sudden awakening. "Linnea!” Milo scrambled to help her sit up despite Lachlan's admonishment. Lachlan sputtered and stood to tower over her prone form. "Linnea, you should not rise just yet. You have been unconscious..." "For long enough,” she said. Lachlan clicked his tongue on his teeth but said nothing more. He had enough of dealing with hardheaded women in his past. "You don't understand, he knows. Colin knows about Joanna now. His brain has healed enough that his memory has returned."

"How did...” Milo started. "I knew everything, even though I might have seemed comatose. It was the only way I could fix the dreadful injuries to my body. But I am telling you, Colin knows. He is in an awful state. I fear, well I fear for my child. I must go to him, now." She managed to sit up, and then with Milo's help, she gained her feet. Her face contorted into a grotesque parody of itself as the pain wracked her narrow body, but she remained standing and didn't utter a sound. "I must go. Do you two wish to accompany me? It may take all of us to corral him." Lachlan looked down at Ben and back up at her, in a quandary about leaving the young one alone. "Go on. I'll be okay here.” Ben brought his arm up to cover his face and closed his eyes. Linnea pointed to the north. “I believe he is in this direction ... the quaint, old town near the big granite mountain.” They moved together to the Jeep Lachlan left parked a mile away. "Thank goodness you brought this out here,” Milo said. “I worried about Linnea walking all that distance." "Don't worry about me, young one. I'm feeling stronger by the moment. My stars, I can't count the times I have been debilitated to the point of what you witnessed this time and always I have pulled through with ease." Milo looked over her head to Lachlan, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. He agreed that no good would come from arguing with her or telling her that she would still be buried under all that debris if not for their efforts at digging her out. He also thought it best not to point out that he supported most of her weight as they traveled to the Jeep. Milo fastened the seat belt around her in the passenger seat then climbed in the back to let Lachlan drive. He had no desire to participate in some stupid male show of superiority like most other males would be doing. Lachlan went out of his way not to flaunt his advanced age and strength to Milo, and he appreciated the effort. Milo suspected that the old one could snap his body like a small twig if he so desired to. He would not push Lachlan to find out either. Linnea's head bounced around during the trip like one of those little bobble head dogs that so many humans put on the dashboard of their cars. Milo saw Lachlan glance over with concern on numerous occasions but no one said a word during the entire rough drive. As they neared the town, the scent of fresh blood wafted with the evening air to tickle their noses and their appetites too. A smorgasbord of human appetizers to dine on, in a town barbecue open to all blood seekers, come one—come all, Colin's broadcasted message. They had to stop the devastation and the needless loss of innocent lives. As soon as they drove into town, it became apparent that in his anguish, Colin swept through the town like the plague, taking life when and wherever he happened upon it. This disaster would be impossible to cover up. Lachlan knew no conceivable way to cover up all this death—and not just death but also the manner of death. Ripped open throats, bleeding gashes on any exposed skin, awful bruises surrounding fang marks on the ones that still lived, but lay dying in the streets. Colin had snapped, just as Lachlan worried he would. He ran like a revenant through the streets, killing people without regard to his own safety or that of the rest of his clan. The others would not understand as Lachlan did. Under their laws this behavior had no excuse, and his life was finished as soon as the others found out. Rogues such as this were not allowed to live. If this massacre made the newspapers, the hunt would be on for Colin's blood. Lachlan himself led many of the rogue hunts, but this one he would never participate in. "Colin,” called Linnea. He stood only a block away, holding an elderly woman by the throat as he prepared to sink his bloody fangs into her flesh. He dropped her to the sidewalk when he heard his name. His eyes wild, rimmed with red, he stared at the

three of them as they climbed out of the Jeep to approach him on foot. No recognition in that feral stare. "Colin, it's okay.” She kept her timbre soft, non-threatening as she cooed to him. “Be calm, my wounded child.” Step by step she drew nearer to him, while Milo and Lachlan remained behind, watching with bated breath. Lachlan didn't want to use force with Colin but he would if it became necessary. In the pit of his stomach, he had a sense that he would be forced to intervene, despite Linnea's careful cajoling. "Come along, Colin. We must find your child. We must find Chaos.” As Linnea drew near a group of police officers rounded the corner, guns drawn. Colin reacted as any desperate, insane human would and grabbed Linnea, holding her tight against his chest as he faced the police. Lachlan froze the police. He found it very difficult to use his mental prowess in such a weakened state, but he did. The officers could not move, frozen in mid step, exquisite statues in navy blue. Colin laughed, a wicked cackle that sent chills down Lachlan's spine. He couldn't control them and Colin at once, not now, not after the explosion and the mutilation from that horror. Colin laughed again and bent his head to Linnea's vulnerable throat. "Colin, please. Think about what you're doing, my son. You are my child, my beloved and I cherish you.” He ignored Linnea's plea and bent his head further, his mouth wide. In a panic, Lachlan released the police so he could use his power against Colin. The police weapons fired and pumped him full of bullets. He fell, the blood pouring as if over a waterfall deep in the jungle, unimpeded by time or space. Heroes fall harder than criminals, they say. No one moved until Linnea screamed, her horror filled voice threatening to shatter eardrums and wither the hearts of the onlookers. "Why did you do this? Why?"

Sixteen What had he just done? A selfless act, he didn't stop to think, didn't hesitate to dash in front of Colin to save him from the bullets. Milo could do nothing now but watch the life flow from his body, in brilliant crimson rivers. Strange that he felt no pain, no pain at all, not even as the bullets penetrated his flesh, ripping ragged holes straight through his body. Linnea screamed and her voice reached him as a bell ringing through the hills of a distant valley. She fell on his body, sobbing as if he had been mortally wounded. He watched the scene play out from the balcony—so far away, the tiny pictures and the tiny people. Colin stared, the shock on his face turning to horror and he tossed Linnea aside, grabbed Milo's body and threw him over one shoulder to run through town with his limp form bouncing on his back. Lachlan stayed behind and inserted the picture of Colin being shot, dying and being carted away by the mortician's truck into all the bystander's minds. Now when news of the rampant attacks all over town hit the papers so would his inevitable death and maybe it would not catch the attention of the others, the avengers—those that seek justice and retribution by blood. Satisfied that the onlookers would not remember anything that happened here, other than the images planted in their minds, Lachlan and Linnea followed Colin's trail out of town. They came upon Colin and Milo several miles into the rough country outside of town. Behind a large boulder, Colin held Milo's head in his lap. The red gold fringes of Milo's eyelashes rested against pasty cheeks dotted with freckles that stood out now like a flock of cardinals on the frozen arctic tundra. Both of Colin's arms sported large slashes from wrist to elbow and the blood flow had already slowed to an intermittent ooze. Milo's face pinked up, even as they watched, from what must have been an enormous infusion of Colin's powerful elixir. To heal those awful wounds it would take just about the whole cocktail and Colin had done that. "And this I have done to my only friend through the eras, the one that would save me from my own folly. Alas, I do not deserve such sentiment.” Colin spoke to no one other than the noble soul in his lap. "There are at least three beings that disagree with you, my sorrowful son." "Come on, Colin.” Lachlan spoke with none of the gentleness that Linnea displayed. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and look at your comrades. We risked life and limb to come to your aid. Linnea, your Creator, awakened from her healing coma to come to your rescue, and put herself in harm's way by approaching you while you were in a rage. Then, you saw what your dear friend Milo did for you. And myself, I am in poor shape too after spending days digging through the rubble looking for your family.” Lachlan put his hand on Colin's shoulder, showing his support of the young centenarian, despite his rather harsh words. "We are so sorry about Joanna. I can't imagine the great love you have lost. Because of this, I'm willing to forgive your transgressions of this evening. However, young one, you should know that there are others who may not forgive you—for any reason. They will take your life, Colin. That I cannot allow as long as I draw breath. I hope I have stopped the rumor before it began. Let us all hope that, to coin a unique modern American phrase, the shit never hits the fan." Colin turned his head to look up at Lachlan. "Where is my daughter?” His question caught Linnea and Lachlan both by surprise. They looked down at him, still sitting on the ground with Milo's head in his lap, his own features pale and drawn. The new skin covering his severe head wound almost didn't cover it all the way and his skull gleamed through his thin scalp. His hair hung limp and dirty and matted with his own gore. Colin's shirt, what was left of it, had blood spattered all over it from his various ravaged victims. This being was a shadow of the Colin they knew. "Let me up.” Milo groaned as he tried to sit up. Colin held him with one arm across his chest and would not allow him to rise. "No, you rest.” Colin spoke to him with the same tone he used with his child.

"Let me up, dammit.” Milo shoved against Colin's arm with both of his hands. Colin moved his arm and gave him a little shove. "All right then, you stubborn fool.” He laughed then, and pushed Milo again on his chest. The laugh sounded so forced that it deceived no one. Milo sat up and turned to retaliate. He saw the first tear fall. Colin's shoulders heaved as he sobbed in silence. Linnea moved to kneel and put her arms around him and just let him cry. She knew Colin and knew that he would regain control soon despite his great pain. He already suffered the rage part of the grieving process and now the time came to move on with his grief. "After all she has been through, I cannot believe that Joanna is gone.” Colin whimpered, a childlike cry so gut wrenching and deep, it shredded the hearts of those that listened to him. "She is..." "Yes, I know,” Colin interrupted Linnea before she could finish her sentence. “I saw her body, I know she is dead. I do not need to be told, please." "All right, Colin. Whatever you want. We must go back for your daughter now. Okay? I am sorry, again—but—I must tell you— she is missing.” Linnea stuttered. So unlike her to fumble on her wording, even after spending a great deal of time in wolf form. And now, she stumbled through her sentence as though it were the first she had ever spoken. Linnea jumped back to prevent Colin from smashing into her head as he leapt to his feet. Colin swayed and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the dizziness. Putting his hand down he found the top of Milo's head, and leaned on him to regain his balance. "I need to find her..." His other hand strayed to his own forehead as Colin fought the weakness, intent on traveling and determined to start the search for his child. "Allow us to help you, most obstinate of us all.” Lachlan moved to Colin's side and offered his shoulders. Then, when Colin made no move to use the offered help, Lachlan removed Colin's arm from the top of Milo's head, placed it around his own shoulders, then held Colin's chilly hand in a tight grip so that he couldn't pull away. "Okay now, let's go.” Lachlan didn't give Colin a chance to complain but just started out in a slow trot across the treacherous terrain. The loose gravel made running more difficult but he didn't want to go back for the Jeep. He did glance back to make sure Linnea and Milo traveled with him and to his relief they both kept his pace. Amazing that any member of this disheveled group lived at all. Lesser beings would perish, no doubt. As they neared the wreckage of the house Lachlan slowed, dreading the inevitable heartbreak when Colin tended to Joanna's poor shattered body. He released him as they entered the yard and Colin went straight to the pile of debris, the end of his home, his life, his love. Broken bricks, mortar, wood rafters, studs, wires, furnishings, fixtures, clothing, toys, bedding ... all unrecognizable now as everything blended together in one dusty, catastrophic heap. They watched, silent and respectful as Colin climbed through the rubble to Joanna's swaddled body. He stood over her, blinking down at the still form, detached from everyone and everything. Then, a somnambulist in Colin's form, he bent at the knees and scooped her body into his arms, carrying her as if she still lived and only slept in his embrace. He stumbled out of the wreckage, and walked right past his companions without looking at them, without speaking to them. His gaze trained in front of him, he saw nothing. Obsidian blank slates, those empty eyes. The others fell in behind him, quiet as the dawn. They followed him to the lush grassy area surrounding the small lake. So out of place in this ragged terrain, his lake and the surrounding plants and trees. Colin himself had turned this barren ground into his oasis. He dug the lake and planted the trees, the tropical plants and the grasses and they flourished despite the arid climate. His own special knowledge served him well and he found the artesian well hidden beneath the dry, pebble-strewn soil. Colin draped Joanna's body across a large boulder residing on the banks of the lake. Still in his own remote world he turned and

started to dig a trench beside that huge rock. His hands bent into claws, he scratched at the ground, tearing through the grass and the soil beneath. No one moved until Benjamin staggered into the sanctuary and Linnea rushed over to help him. She put her arm around his waist and guided him over to Milo and Lachlan but he tugged to get away from her. Ben patted her hand to show that he adored her attention but then he lurched to where Colin kneeled with his hands buried in the dirt and fell to the ground beside him. Without a word said to Colin, Ben placed his hands in the soil to help dig. All the loam that Colin had trucked in to improve the local soil made digging less difficult, and even with their bare hands they made progress. The others soon dropped to the ground to add their hands to the effort. Digging deep, they prepared Joanna's final resting place with care. Colin pulled banana leaves from the trees and made a bed for her before he lowered her body into the grave. He hesitated for a moment as if he would speak, but he just started picking up dirt by the handful and placing it on top of her bound corpse. After filling in the grave, everyone stood around the fresh soil, no one speaking, no one knowing what to say. Linnea reached for Colin's hand, dirt and all and held it in hers. Then with her other hand she took Ben's hand too. They stood in silent remembrance and said their private goodbyes to Joanna. "Now,” Colin choked out through his clenched throat. “Where is Joanna's daughter?" "She." "We." "Not.” They all spoke at once. Colin cleared his throat and looked at each beloved face and then to Lachlan, the one he owed his life to and the lives of everyone else still living as well. "Did you find any signs of Chaos as you searched for the others? She stood outside the house with me before the blast. I recall that now." "Colin, I am so sorry. I searched everywhere for her. I found nothing, well, except for a few drops of blood on the ground several yards from the house.” Lachlan patted his bandaged midriff as he started talking again. "I had a grievous injury to take care of before I even began searching. By the time I removed the projectile and healed my organs enough to move around, many hours had passed since the explosion.” He grimaced as he removed the filthy wrapping and it pulled at his tender skin. “I have still not finished healing.” He apologized for the ugly puckered appearance of his abdomen. "Chaos could have traveled far in the amount of time I rested, or even been taken by anyone wishing to take advantage of our incapacitation. Think about it, what perfect timing, no? All her powerful protectors wounded or buried beneath tons of rubble. He could waltz right in and grab her." At the stricken look on Colin's face, he wished he had kept his mouth shut. Like a storm cloud filling the sky, Colin faded to gray—but lightening flashed in his eyes. Pity the fool that had spirited this man's daughter away! The growl started low in his chest and grew to an angry bellow. “I will find her and the one that took her shall die by my hand and I will have it no other way, do you all understand?" "I don't think anyone is planning to argue with you Colin.” Linnea smiled to soften her words. "Okay then, we should split up and cover more ground,” Lachlan said. “Benjamin, are you well enough to travel?” All eyes moved to Ben. The faint pink lines left over from his injuries lit up like Christmas decorations, with all attention focused on him. "Um, I am well enough, thank you." "Perhaps you would do well to stay with one of us, for now,” said Milo. “Even though you are well enough." Ben looked back at him, his eyebrow cocked and the corner of his mouth lifted just a bit.

"Okay, then I will go with Linnea." "No!” Colin burst out with a force that surprised everyone. “You will accompany me. I cannot—no, I will not take the chance of losing you also." Silence so thick that it threatened to smother them like a heavy wet blanket. Awkward—the only word that described the moment, and they all felt it, even Colin. "I am sorry for the outburst. I would be very grateful for all of your help in searching for my child. Please do not lose faith in me. I know I have behaved badly and I hope you will forgive me, every last one of you. But you see, I am struggling to maintain my composure as it is." "Colin, you have no need to worry. We understand and you need not apologize for anything.” Linnea's flowing voice never failed to reassure him and his shoulders slumped as he relaxed the taut muscles in his back and neck. A muffled ringing echoed between them. It happened again and Colin patted his pocket. "Your pants are ringing, Colin.” He smirked at the smart aleck Milo, and dug into his pocket, still in shock that the phone worked after everything that transpired in the past days. He managed to get the tiny phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Yes?" "Dad? Help me, Daddy!” Nobody missed those words. CJ's plea bounced from one to another, quickening their collective pulses. "Yes honey, Where are you?” Colin hollered back to her. No response. “CJ, hello? Can you hear me? CJ?” He took the phone down from his ear and beat it on his leg then brought it back to his head. "CJ? Hello. Hello.” The line disconnected as it so often did with his cell phone. "She is gone.” He glanced around at his friends and grinned. “But, she is alive!" "Colin, check the caller ID. What number did she call from?” Ben's eager words flew from his mouth, an octave higher in pitch due to his excitement. Colin lifted his arm to look at the caller ID, excited to have a lead on his child's whereabouts. His face fell. "It says ‘private caller'. But, she is alive, she is alive!” He dropped the phone back into his pocket and rubbed his hands together, eager to get started on the search for CJ. About to drag Ben along and trot off, Colin stopped himself as the thought occurred to him that he owed Lachlan more than he could ever hope to repay him. "Lachlan. How do you want to execute the search?” Colin asked. Lachlan stroked his beard and thought about it for a moment, his stance now serious and authoritative where moments before he seemed almost dejected. "This will take some thinking. We need to stay in touch. We have no place to come back to as a central meeting point so we must decide that in advance. We can use our mental powers to communicate since it seems that you are the only one with a cell phone, Colin." "The phone is much easier.” After his words left his lips, he thought about whom it was he interrupted. “Oh, I am sorry for my interruption." Lachlan nodded to show his acceptance, his dirty white hair falling in his face. He pushed it back and cringed as he felt the filth. "We need to rent a room so we can shower and we need fresh clothing. All these human necessities are important if we are to travel through their towns and use their transportation, should we need to fly." "You mean you can't fly, Lachlan?” Ben snorted, a short brittle sound that he wished didn't sound so sarcastic. Too late to take it back. He waited to see if Lachlan would let it slide or if he would cuff him on his ear.

"You read too much fiction, young man.” Lachlan shrugged his shoulders and continued. "I wish I could fly, it would simplify things. But as it is, we must clean ourselves up some so that we don't attract so much attention. Personally, I would prefer to stay as a group until we start our search." He looked around at everyone, trying to read their thoughts on the subject. He failed. Every one of them had a closed mind when before the catastrophe they wore feelings and thoughts on their sleeves like a winning ribbon. That lighthearted ease had vanished with the explosion. "So how do you all feel about this?” Nobody answered him. “Have you all lost the power of speech, or perhaps your hearing?” He looked to Linnea. “Linnea, how do you feel about staying as a group and getting cleaned up, all of what I just said?” Irritation crept into his speech though he tried to remain calm. "I agree,” she said. "As do I,” said Milo. "Ben and I will also do it your way, Lachlan. I think it is a good plan and the best immediate course of action for all of us. To go off halfcocked right now would get us nowhere but deeper into trouble." "Halfcocked?" "Shut up, Ben.” Colin snapped at him and snatched his hand to squeeze his fingers until Ben cringed and mouthed ‘Ow’ at him. "Okay then. This is your state, Colin. We should move away from here perhaps to a large city. Any suggestions?" "I just thought of something. We have to go back to the house. We will need money. I have a substantial amount there in a fire safe box that most likely did survive the bomb and perhaps we could find better garments than what we have on. Anything would be better than your clothing Lachlan. It is torn to shreds." "As is yours.” He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip, frowning as a distasteful thought entered his mind. Lachlan knew Colin watched him so he walked over to put a comforting hand on his forearm. "Are you sure, Colin, that you want to return there? You may see painful things in that debris. Things that bring back memories..." "I will be fine. Thank you for your concern. I will not cower the rest of my life, afraid that I will see or smell something that might remind me of my wife. I want to cherish every moment of my life with her. That bomb may have taken her away from me in physical form, but she will be here,” he pointed to his heart, “...and here,” he pointed to his head, “...forever." "And that is the perfect attitude for you to sustain. Do it then. Let's go back to the site of our devastation." "Not our devastation, Lachlan. It was just a house. We won't let this beat us. I have lost more than all of you combined in this— my wife, my home and my daughter is still not with us, but I will throw no more tantrums and I expect the terrible pain in my heart to fade away, though at this moment, I can't imagine ever feeling better. I think perhaps if I keep talking, things will..." Colin drifted off, letting the others fill in the blank however they wished. He wanted to keep talking, but he tired of hearing his own pretentious diction. Joanna would already have interrupted him and scolded him for giving yet another lecture. But she died, and she would no longer interrupt him, for anything. "Colin?” Ben stood next to him, touching his elbow. Lachlan moved away to give the creator and his neophyte room to talk even though he would hear them no matter where he stood. "Yes?” Ben's baby face contorted as he tried to control himself but he still lost the tears brimming in his eyes. He lifted his arms, begging to embrace his tattered creator. Colin put his arm around Ben's shoulders and pulled him close, holding him as if he were a

small boy. He remained stoic, his gaze locked to a distant point, his face rigid and unfeeling—until Ben spoke. "Her last word...” He hiccupped and tried again. “Her last word was your name, Colin." The trembling began, somewhere in his intestines and spread to his other organs and then to his muscles. Ben put his arms around his chest and held him, but he no longer felt those young but capable limbs about him. He could not dwell on her death. He would not. If he lost himself in Joanna's final moments it would kill him too, and he had to remain alive to help Joanna's daughter, the one part of Joanna that still lived. And this young one wrapped around him at this moment needed him too. Must maintain control, must stop this right now ... He forced his body to obey and stop quaking. Colin forced his emotions to fade away. He did not need them to survive and he would be better off without sentiment. Before he met Joanna—oh but he would not think about her right now. Inch by inch, his muscles relaxed and remained still. "Benjamin. Thank you for telling me that. Please though, let us not speak of Joanna right now. I know you love her too and it is hard, but we will make it through this as we have made it through other very difficult times.” Colin dislodged Ben with the gentlest of touches and held him at arm's length, his damp gaze locked to Ben's. “Everything will be all right." Amazing how he could see so far inside the young man by looking into his eyes. Colin watched as the clouded blue eyes cleared and his heart lifted. Ben smiled up at him, just a lift to the corners of his scarred and healing lips but it was enough. He patted his shoulder, and then moved him aside with a gentle push, to walk back toward the pile of waste that until a few days ago, was his home. As they approached the rubble, Colin had to fight to keep his runaway anger in check. The rage simmered just beneath the surface of his steely veneer of indifference. He willed his pulse to slow and the sharp fangs to retract. They remained intertwined, the rage, the blood lust and the rapid pulse. Although he tried, he never figured out how to prevent one from manifesting along with the other so that any time he found himself in a rage, the fangs would drop and be there to cut his lip as he fumed and gnashed his teeth. He tossed debris out of his way, as if it weighed nothing at all as he searched for the moneybox. The others also searched through the ruins for intact garments or anything of value. Not much made it through the explosion without being destroyed. What items did not get blown apart seemed to have incinerated. Just looking at this war zone gave testament to the strength of his companions—that they survived, and with no missing limbs. An amazing feat. He found the heavy metal box, intact. He tossed it to the outside of the devastation, and continued searching for clothing that had more fiber to them than the tattered rags on his body now. "Hey Colin, would you call my phone and let me see if I can find it?” Ben hoped to locate it before they left. "It is highly unlikely, oh never mind.” Colin pulled his cell from his pocket and hit button number three, speed dial for Ben. He waited, hearing nothing, then glanced back at his phone to see the battery indicator flashing. Damnation, he needed the phone in case CJ tried to call again. He pressed the end button then tried the number two, speed dial for Joanna's phone. To everyone's surprise the Pink Panther melody started playing, from somewhere close to the middle of the rubble piles. Ben zeroed in on the silly tune, tossing junk out of the way until he found the phone. "I still don't understand why you do not use the telepathic talents you both have, that we all have. Not a single one of our clan is without it, you know." "It is so much easier to just press the button on my phone, really Lachlan.” Ben slid Joanna's phone into his pocket and it fell to his feet in the dust. "Well that explains what happened to my phone. It sucks too because I had several important numbers in memory that are now lost to me." "If you learned to use you innate talents you would not have that problem.” Lachlan smirked at him. "He has a hard enough time keeping his own thoughts straight, Lachlan. I can't imagine him trying to listen to other's thoughts as well.” Colin looked over at Ben when he said that and saw the relief on his face. Ben did not need an argument with Lachlan, the ancient one stuck in the old ways, for he would not win. Colin knew that much about Lachlan—he did not lose, unless he wanted

to. The powerful one could be a great asset or a dreaded enemy. "I am eager to start the search for my child. Can we hurry here and get to the hotel?” He picked up the few shirts that he found and brought them with him to the yard. As everyone gathered near Colin, they added the articles of clothing that they found to the mound at Colin's feet. It became immediately obvious to him that not a stitch of feminine clothing lay in the pile of dusty garments. "Were there none of your clothes left, Linnea? Or CJ's, or Joanna's?” Colin stared down at Linnea, still suspicious at the conspicuous absence of female articles. "I only found a pair of jeans.” Ben rushed his words—he lied. "I too, found nothing but what is here,” said Lachlan. Linnea and Milo stared at the ground in front of their feet, their eyes hidden from his view. Colin knew why they did this, and loved them for it, but he still had to set them straight. "You can all stop skulking around me. I am not some feeble lovesick fool that you must hide my wife's things from. Oh, forget it, let's get dressed in what is here and get moving. Every minute we waste is a minute that Chaos could be moved farther away." Colin removed his torn shirt and dug through the shirts until he found one that didn't look too awful. Though filthy, it had all of its buttons and only one small tear across the back. He shook it out, flinging most of the dust into the air then slid his arms into the sleeves and buttoned it to his neck. As he looked up, he realized that Linnea stared at him, discomfort so obvious on her face that she might as well have the words written there in bold black letters. He glanced around and spied the big boulder to the side of the property. Catching her attention again, he pointed to the rock. She smiled, picked up her chosen shirt and shorts, and headed over to the rock to change. "Oh man.” Ben watched Linnea walk away. "My gosh boy, has your one track mind not gotten you into enough trouble already?” Colin admonished him, but with such a tone that he knew he didn't mean it as scolding. After everyone changed into better attire, they started out in a slow run toward town. Like a pack of wolves they moved in familiar unison, their gait quick and sure across the rugged terrain. All had regained a modicum of strength and every last one of them would be a force to reckon with, now that they had recovered. Colin felt the cold breeze blow around his head and then something else ... a wraithlike fist slammed into his back. He spun about but nothing behind him! Nothing to his side and the others ran in front of him as he brought up the rear. The cold drifted around Colin's head and lower to his chest and his breath condensed in front of his face as he exhaled. A sudden mist circled him and he batted at it, trying to clear the smoke away. His fanning movements had no effect and if anything the cold intensified and he felt that shove again, this time on the side of his head. The mists swirled thicker until he couldn't see through the fog. His throat constricted and he fought for breath only to have the pressure increase. He coughed and choked to gain a gulp of precious air. He could no longer draw breath, his throat closed as he tore at his neck to dislodge his attacker—but nothing there at all. It was as his vision dimmed that he saw her face floating in the dense fog ... He recognized that face. In the hills, lying at rest on a rock with her face to the stars that she worshiped with her telescope. Dead. He killed her himself, drained her of blood. She understood him so well and gave herself to him. Perhaps he had been wrong after all. She had returned to take him back with her

Seventeen His world turned the darkest shades of gray, and then black as he suffocated in the haze. A great tumult appeared in the mist, swirling and spinning about him and the pressure on his throat disappeared. Colin fell to his knees, gulping air into his lungs. The others came back for him, watching in shock as the fog swirled and spun about. It flung small pebbles and bits of plant life into the air as it whiled like a dervish, then the fog vanished. When Colin caught his breath, he looked up to see them all staring in shocked silence, at where the fog had been. "What was that? I thought I saw one of my victims in that strange chilly vapor.” No one uttered a word and he felt foolish for saying anything. "I know it sounds ridiculous." "No, not at all.” Milo's voice drifted out in an odd stage whisper. "Colin, uh...” Linnea let her sentence drift off and she clamped her lips together so that they were little more than a thin line above her chin. "It was Joanna!” Ben couldn't contain himself any longer. “Joanna fought with the entity trying to kill you—and won!” Colin looked from one face to another and saw the same thing in each one. They had all seen Joanna as an avenging apparition. Incredulous, Colin's expression and his lips rose at the corners until he beamed at his companions. "Well she did say that she would never leave me. It appears that she really meant it!” Colin stood, brushing his pants off even though they were filthy to begin with, the grin still plastered on his face. "We should get moving again and start the search for CJ. Now that I know Joanna is watching..." **** "You bastard! You lied to me,” CJ screamed at Charles the minute he walked into the house. He stopped and stared at her as if she had just gone insane. "Whatever are you talking about?” He walked closer to her chair and noticed that the window stood open a crack, the balmy evening air flowing in. He clicked his tongue on the back of his teeth and hurried to close the window and lock it. "What have you been doing"? His tone confirmed that suspicion would turn to anger with one errant word from her. "My father is alive.” CJ ground her teeth as she spat the words at him, ignoring his warning. “Why did you tell me that my parents are dead? You liar!” He cringed at her shriek, then grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her until her head hit the back of the chair with a dull thud. He ignored her indignant snort and patted her down, rifling through her pockets and even inside her bra, for something hidden. He found nothing. Yanking her by the wrist, he pulled Chaos from the chair and dropped her on the floor to his side. She had no time to fight him and no chance to pull away. One minute she sat in the soft chair and the next she found herself on the hard floor with her cast twisted under her body. "Hey!” She started to voice her outrage but bit her tongue when Charles flipped the cushion out of the chair and found the cell phone there. His face darkened and as she watched, the muscles in his arms and across his chest and back tightened so that they looked like thick ropes beneath his starched shirt. CJ held her breath as he picked up the phone, her heart racing as he moved in slow motion to face her, holding the damning evidence in his hand. Thinking fast, CJ knew just what to say. "Wow, did you lose that?” He said nothing, but lifted the phone to his nose and sniffed it, then sniffed again and smiled down at her, his fang teeth prominent—flashed for her benefit. His tongue slid between them to wet his lips, then he licked his fangs one at a time up one side and down the other, grooming the wicked incisors.

"This phone smells like you, CJ.” His speech scared her far worse than the display of his sharp teeth. Low baritone notes, drawled into a southern accent—slurred, restrained fury—horror in his words. In her fright she bit the inside of her cheek so deep that the blood flowed onto her tongue like it poured from a spigot, and she had to swallow or choke. Charles grinned with even more wicked intent than before. "So, little blood drinker, where did you get it?” That same sickening drawl, his words sticky and wet, like the inside of her mouth as the blood coagulated. Oh how she wished she could jump up and run, but with this heavy cast on her leg it seemed impossible. His hand closed on her throat. She didn't see him move! He lifted her by the neck and held her suspended in the air in front of him, her nose inches from his. Her legs swung in the air, grasping for something, anything to stand on and finding nothing. "I asked you a question. Answer me or suffer the consequences. I am through being nice to you.” He lowered her to the floor, but didn't release her throat. His long fingers went almost all the way around her thin neck and she felt them digging into her spine like a multi-legged alien trying to take over her nervous system. "I...” She gulped, her saliva drying up all at once and her parched gullet clenched even with no choking grip surrounding it. "I...” She began again. "What!” Charles bellowed and CJ flinched. "I borrowed it from a boy who lives nearby! I told him nothing, I swear to you. I just asked if he had a cell phone that I could use.” She cleared her throat and swallowed, succeeding in making her esophagus stick shut so that she had to cough hard to open her airway. "He tossed it up to me. I told him I would give it back later.” Charles watched her, a hawk glaring at his prey as it tried to elude him through the tall grasses. He would not lose this quarry, no, he kept her in his sights and he would not so much as blink. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, filling his eyes with fathomless ebony. His grip on her neck again tightened as he felt her muscles tense to flee. "Nooooo!” She screamed as he bent his head down to her level, kissing the bare flesh on her throat, and then nudging the collar of her shirt over to place his lips in the hollow of her shoulder. Twin rods of torturous burning ache sliced through her tender skin and muscle and entered the throbbing vein beneath. CJ punched at his gut and gurgled with anger until the euphoria washed through her, making her knees weak and her face warm, so very warm. The room grew fuzzy, psychedelic and liquid, and Charles no longer seemed like the kidnapper, but a prince—with fangs. CJ awoke lying on the couch once again, the smile frozen on her face until she became aware, then her resentment returned. Her cursory glance about the room, no her prison, was a waste of time. Neither Charles nor the cell phone remained. Charles wouldn't leave the phone behind for her to use again. Well—he never even asked her if she called anyone. He must know that she called her father since she called him a liar and, like a fool, told him that her father did not die. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Think of the devil and he shall arrive. Charles bustled back into the condo carrying two large suitcases. He walked straight through the sitting room and into the bedroom without even looking at CJ. Listening in, CJ heard drawers opening and slamming shut— then the suitcase thumped closed and the little latches, like metallic tinker toys, clicked and locked the case. Still ignoring her, he stormed back through the room dropping his bulging suitcase against the wall, then he went into the bathroom. The garments he purchased for CJ were folded into the tiny closet in the bathroom. She watched through the open doorway as he raked the clothes off the shelves and shoved them into the other suitcase as it lay open on the floor, like a ravenous beast with jaws agape, devouring her clothing in one colossal gulp. Rushing past her again, he stopped, cocking his head to one side to stare at her, gnashing his thoughts before he spoke them.

"Prepare yourself for travel. Use the bathroom now if you must. We have a long trip ahead of us.” He scowled at her bulky cast and then glared into her face. "I had hoped to let you mend before we left, but you have made this impossible and now the others will be searching for us. Just remember, little girl, that your discomfort is your own fault—and no whining.” With that rude delivery, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the room, then returned to snatch the other suitcase from the floor. She listened as he hurried down the stairs and opened the door to the street. There would be no escape for her now with this infernal gigantic cast on her leg. Hopping to the bathroom on her good leg, she stumbled on the rug and fell, crashing her head into the wall hard enough to make her sick to her stomach. As the nausea passed, she realized just how ravenous she felt, ravenous and oh so thirsty. Damn him for draining her like a big stupid mosquito. He even looked like a bug with that pinched face of his and that beak-like nose. Now he'd left her weak and clumsy and in need of her own sustenance. Maybe she would just take him up on that offer of his blueblood veins. Gross. No. "Hurry up, CJ. What in hell are you doing on the floor?" She wouldn't look at him. Footsteps approached and still she would not look up at him. She hated him with every fiber in her being, but, if she did drink from him, it would make her stronger and more able to escape. "I hunger.” She muttered, her words small, childish, as intimidating as a baby rabbit. That got his attention. She heard his breath catch in his throat and if she listened with all her power—his heart thundered in his chest! She almost laughed when his knee popped as he squatted beside her. Too bad it wasn't the sound of his leg snapping in two, but just a rusty joint complaining. "What do you hunger for, my little Poppet?” She heard the excitement in his voice. Repulsive. His fingers touched her chin, raising her face to him. “What do you hunger for, hmm?” He asked again, gentle as the spring rain now, falling like tiny crystal blossoms against the windowpane. "You.” She whispered, because her larynx had seized, refusing to cooperate as the bile from her stomach sluiced over it. "Oh? Do you need help then? A knife perhaps?" She nodded. He jumped up, moving so fast it stirred a breeze that caressed her cheeks. Back in a moment, he held a shiny razor knife in his hand and drew it across his wrist. The blood welled up, following the blade, molten lava flowing from the mouth of the fissure. He held his bleeding wrist to her face and she took his arm in both hands and brought it to her lips. With the first taste of his blood, she gagged. CJ ignored it, using all her mental strengths to control the reflex. She gagged again, burning bile rising in her throat, a lit fuse traveling up her esophagus. Another swallow and his blood now quenched that fire. Distracted by a tickle in her gums, she felt her fang teeth scrape her tongue. Her blood thirst roared. Moving his wrist away from her mouth, she inhaled deep and long then drove her fangs through his flesh. He moaned, his pleasure immense, no doubt. Charles the perv had wanted this from the very moment they met. Drawing out huge draughts of his blood, she felt her strength return. Little by little she grew stronger and he, weaker. With an agonized groan he pulled away, pushing her head with his other hand while he tugged his wrist from her greedy bite. He fell over, a puddle of contentment on the rug beside her and she looked down on him from above, wondering if she could have killed him by drinking all of his blood. If he enjoyed being bitten so much, it might not be too difficult to accomplish. CJ gained her footing and with her added power had no problem hopping to the bathroom. The urgent need to urinate had struck her with an uncomfortable vengeance. She found Charles waiting outside the door when she came out. "Ready to go now?” He injected such cheer into his question that it was almost like they were taking a vacation together. Not the case, but she played along.

"Sure. Where are we headed?" "Have you ever seen the ocean?” At first CJ thought he was kidding. No one of her ilk would go to the beach. What would the reasoning be? The sun bothered them so much and there by the water it would be unbearable. Then, a scary thought crossed her mind. What if he didn't mean just the beach but planned to go out in a boat on the ocean? Oh no. Not even Charles, the Beakface, struck her as that crazy. "Uh, no, of course not. I have never seen the ocean. Isn't that a kinda silly question?" "Of course you have not. And this is the main reason we are headed right to the coast. The sunniest one I can think of too. First we will go to Florida and from there, a cruise!” He grinned, looking as crazy as he sounded, his eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, a grin on his face that would look much better on a moldy jack-o-lantern. "I know you think it is insanity. But I am crazy like a fox! No one would think to look for us in the tropics.” He arched his eyebrows even higher on his forehead then winked. Her stomach turned. He felt delighted with himself and it sickened her. "Are we flying then?” At least on an airplane there would be plenty of humans around to act as buffers if nothing else. "On no. No way would I take you on a plane when I can't trust you in this small condo. Look what you did with the small amount of freedom I gave you.” He clicked his tongue, a habit she detested. His tongue striking the back of his teeth with that wet sucking sound made her skin crawl. "I have rented a car, we are driving." Now came CJ's turn to click her tongue. “I have studied geography. That is a very long drive." Charles frowned, looking down his long beak at her. "I am perfectly aware of how long the drive is, young lady. It will be a pleasant trip, unless of course you choose to make it unpleasant then I can grant you that wish as well." He took her arm and guided her out of the condo, tossing the keys on the table in the front hallway as they left. She had seen nothing but the inside of the small sitting room and the bathroom since she arrived. Too bad she hadn't explored this place, it looked quite luxurious. Deep pile rugs dotted the floor, and in the entryway this gorgeous rich caramel colored marble polished to such a sheen that she could see the bottom of her bulky leg cast reflected in it. Charles must have plenty of money, not that she knew much about money, other than what Ben taught her in his eternal quest to become a millionaire. At the curb, a sleek black car sat waiting, the trunk open. CJ knew even less about cars than she did about money but it looked nice enough. Charles opened the passenger door for her, helped her into the seat and closed the door. Then he dashed back up the steps to grab the luggage and toss it into the trunk. As he rounded the back of the car she tried the door handle. Locked. She glanced up at the door lock to see that the knob had been removed and the screw hid too far down in the hole for her to reach. Damn him. Beakface slid into his seat beside her, grinning again as he noted the look of displeasure on her face. "I take it you noticed the absence of the door lock on your side. Pity that. I thought it necessary to have it removed. Child proofing, you know." CJ stuck out her tongue at him and to her surprise, he laughed. "I rest my case.” Oh man, she sure wanted to kick him for that retort. He put the key in the ignition and started the engine. It purred to life, a quiet hum. Having traveled very little in her short life, the idea of driving across several states excited her, even with the present company. CJ knew she would escape his clutches and return to her parents, so why not enjoy the trip? She did want to see the ocean.

"Fasten your seatbelt, CJ.” He turned his head to watch and make sure she did as she was told. “It's the law, you know." His smirk could make just about anyone sick. She ignored him as she buckled her seatbelt. CJ looked out her side window at the front of the condo, and the tiny grass yard where the boy from down the street stood as he talked to her. She gasped when she saw the broken cell phone lying there in the grass, but thought before she opened her mouth and said something to anger Charles. Might as well learn the fine art of manipulation now. Linnea promised to teach her all about that when she got older. She hoped that she'd see Linnea again as well as the rest of her extended family. They just had to be okay. Charles pulled out into the vacant street. Eerie that no other cars passed them, the streets reminded her of a ghost town. Could be the time, not many people roamed the streets in the middle of the night, or even after dark in small towns. She should have asked the boy that she spoke to earlier what town this happened to be. No matter now anyway. The streetlamps blurred together as he increased speed and they entered the freeway. CJ yawned and put her head back against the headrest. A nap would be a welcome break from the constant reminder of his presence just a few feet away. The absence of movement jolted her awake. She sat in the car alone and for a moment, it frightened her. She had no clue where Charles had gone. Then she realized that they parked at a gas station. The door opened and Charles looked in at her. "Oh, you are awake. Do you need to visit the ladies room before we get back on the road? Would you like something to eat or drink?” He held the door open, waiting while she woke her muscles and tried to get her body out of the car, the stupid cast hampering her every movement. He grew impatient and reached in putting his hand in her armpit to lift her out. "I need to go to the bathroom.” He nodded and pointed to the side of the rustic building. "It is this way.” He slid his hand down to her forearm and held on to her as he led her past the pumps and the small parking area close to the restroom. Mortified, she looked around to see if anyone watched and saw the clerk grinning at her from inside his glass booth. She would be willing to bet that the guy had missing teeth and an extra toe on each foot. He looked like one of the Deliverance mountain men. There would be no help from him. The building sat next to an overgrown field with weeds as tall as her head growing just a few feet from the bathroom door. She saw her chance for escape! "I can make it by myself from here.” Tired words, dripping with innocence. "Suit yourself.” Charles released her arm and she hobbled around the side of the building to the bathroom door, looking back as she pushed it open. He stood there with his arms crossed, feet planted apart, watching her. She scowled and went into the restroom. After relieving herself, she washed her hands and checked the room for windows. Of course, no windows to be found in this reeking tile room. Easing the door open, she peeked out and saw that Charles no longer stood there like the wrath of Zeus waiting for her to come out. She hesitated no longer. Sprinting into the weeds, she ignored the pain in her mending leg and ran on both legs. Out of nowhere, a band of steel wrapped around her waist and jerked her off the ground—Charles. He hauled her out of the field and carried her on his hip, his arm around her waist, back to the car. Dropping her without regard into her seat, he slammed the door and went around to his side to get in behind the wheel. Without even looking at her, he started the engine and drove out of the station. The car ate up the freeway miles and every mile looked the same until she saw the sign welcoming them to Louisiana. Being a sheltered child, CJ had never left Texas. She wanted to celebrate this monumental event, but she had no one to celebrate with. Beakface Charles kept his glare trained on the road ahead, and had said nothing to her since her escape attempt, so she said nothing to him either. Dawn approached and the sky ahead faded from black to deep purple. Soon the sun would breach the horizon and shine right in his eyes. She couldn't wait. They drove over a long bridge and she delighted in the swamp below, with its dank water and myriad of swaying plant life. She wondered how the original bridge builders constructed this bridge, with its massive concrete pillars stretching across miles and miles of Louisiana swamp. An enormous long-necked white bird stood in the water near the bridge, proving that the water couldn't be more than one foot deep there, or perhaps the bird stood on a stump hidden beneath the murky water. If she jerked the wheel hard then the car would careen over the guardrails and sail into the water. Emergency vehicles would come to their rescue and she could leave with them and escape from Charles.

With a trembling arm she inched her hand closer and closer, waiting for him to look out his window so she could grab the steering wheel and jerk it out of his hand. A small boat off to the left held Charles’ interest as he watched the two fishermen cast their net into the water. She touched the wheel and he didn't notice. Her fingers twitched and her hand shook as she gripped the wheel tighter, ready to jerk it to the right and send the vehicle careening off the bridge.

Eighteen She couldn't do it. She just couldn't force herself to cause such an accident. Thoughts of her own drowning frightened her and the water below didn't look inviting at all. She imagined the murky brown water closing over her face, trapped in the car, unable to save herself and that tainted water and mud and algae would seep into her lungs, cutting off her breath. She could almost taste the foul water as her imagination ran wild with thoughts of the swamp. CJ put her hand back in her lap, disappointed with her cowardice. "It would not have worked anyway, if that is any consolation." He knew! "I have a firm grip on the wheel at all times and it is presumptive and downright foolish of you to think you could overpower me, little lady." CJ rolled her eyes, gazing up at the roof of the car as if it had the answers but she said nothing. She turned her face away from him and stared out the window, biding her time until the sun came up. It wouldn't be long now—the sky had already lightened to a luscious orange and dazzling pink down low on the horizon, and since the car traveled due east, it would be right in his beak face any minute! Wait for it, wait for it—there it is! The sun broke over the edge of the world with splendid golden glory. She looked to Charles, expecting to see him cringing in pain, but he just squinted his eyes and reached into his breast pocket for a pair of dark sunglasses. "Sorry to disappoint you yet again, dear. Did you not notice the tint on the windows, including the windshield? Keeps out those harmful UV rays." "But..." "It doesn't have to be tinted to black to screen out UV." She would have to learn to stop underestimating him. He hid his intelligence well, she had to admit. But then again, all she had to compare him to were superior beings. After living with her family, most everyone else she met seemed very dull both in wit and appearance. "Aren't you tired?” She asked with a respectful tone, no less. He flashed an incredulous look at her, shocked that she spoke to him as if she didn't hate him. He probably thought she held the door handle in her hand about to jump from the car. She would have too if Charles hadn't removed the door lock knob. Perhaps he knew her too well. He seemed to anticipate every move she made and it infuriated her. How could she ever hope to escape him if he knew everything she might attempt before she tried it? "I will rest once we reach Florida. The state is bigger than you might think and we are going all the way across the panhandle to the ocean. It is a beautiful place. I think you will be pleased with my choice.” His right hand fell from the wheel and he slid it across the leather seats to pat her hand as it rested on the seat beside her. She resisted the urge to pull away and allowed him to touch her. CJ gritted her teeth then forced a smile. "I look forward to seeing Florida. It's one place I never dreamed of going, you know, my parents avoid the sunlight to such an extent that they don't go out during the day at all, even with lots of shade. I got scolded for playing outside, when I was younger of course.” She eased her hand away from his under the pretense of scratching her head, and he put both hands on the wheel once more. He maneuvered the car like it became part of him, so capable and he made driving look easy. "Can I drive?" He laughed, a short bark of a laugh that made her feel like a huge fool. She felt she needed to explain herself, to explain away the stupidity in that question. "It is just that you make it look so easy and I forgot that I am your captive—for a moment.” His laughter halted and he gave her a sidelong glance.

"Too bad you can't forget all the time and just enjoy your time with me.” He sighed, an old man who had seen and done it all and the world weighed heavy on his shoulders. "But I know you will never forget. No, you will always be the same stubborn, opinionated young lady that I stole away from the tragedy of her life.” He rubbed his forehead with the fingers of his left hand and then shook his head, sad for a moment, it seemed. "Damn shame, CJ. It's a damn shame.” He mumbled under his breath, but of course she heard, seated just a few feet away she couldn't miss it. Wonder what he meant by that? She wouldn't ask. But she did have a dry mouth. "Can I have a soda?” She turned to look in the backseat but nothing there, no ice chest, no snacks, nothing. "I packed nothing. I never need snacks or drinks, you know. I consume nothing other than the blood of my quarry. Did your parents eat or drink other sustenance?" "Sometimes, they had a little something. But they always made sure to have food and drinks for me. My mom loves Coke and even now she still drinks it. Dad will sometimes eat those jelly candies that look like orange slices. I introduced him to those.” CJ beamed, remembering her Dad's face when he took the candy from her just to shut her up. She hopped in his lap, the safest place in the world, and waited for him to put the slice into his mouth. He moved in slow motion, taunting her with the candy right outside his lips, then he took the candy in his teeth and bit off a tiny piece, not much larger than the sugar crystals sprinkled on the outside of the orange slice. He laughed at her disappointed expression, his laughter she felt in her own narrow little chest, rumbling through her like the roar of an airplane flying low overhead. Having pity on his little daughter he popped the candy all the way into his mouth and to his surprise, he liked it. From then on, he shared the bag with her whenever she picked some up at the grocery store. Her parents always indulged her every whim. "Please, Be—Charles.” She almost called him Beakface! “Can we stop at a convenience store, please?” CJ learned right away that he responded well to her requests when she begged with a little girl voice so she used that to her full advantage. "Of course, we'll stop. How could I deny such a beautiful young girl anything she desires?" "Anything?” Her childish tone tunneled through the silence like a bat's cry deep in the bowels of an ancient cave. He sighed, his exhale loud to show his displeasure as he turned to look at her. "Don't ruin it, CJ. You know what I meant. You might as well resign yourself to my boorish company, for the time being anyway." "I hardly find you boorish. In fact you are always polite, even when you are being mean.” He burst into gales of enchanting laughter. She thought that he might lose control of the car, he laughed so hard. She reached for the wheel and his laughter stopped in an instant, his hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles grew pale. "I only want to keep the car on the road! Don't be so melodramatic." His grip relaxed then and his smile returned. "So you think I am mean?” He didn't give her a chance to answer though because he became distracted by something ahead. Pointing to the side of the road he glanced over at her. "Look, a truck stop. You can find your snacks there, yes?” He sounded almost like her dad when he said that. She looked at him, at his face, trying to ignore the nose that made her call him Beak-face and see the eyes, deep set eyes, scary eyes, the kind of face that would frighten children on a dark night or any night for that matter. She had to stop staring at him before he scared her too. "That would be perfect, thank you." "Will you behave if I stop or should I chain you to the car?” She couldn't tell if he just joked with her or if he meant what he said. He smiled, although that could also be construed as an evil smirk. But, he changed lanes and took the exit into the truck stop. As he pulled in, she opened her seat belt and got ready to get out of the car.

"You are not going in, CJ.” He looked at her, an odd expression crossing his features. "Do you need to use the restroom again?" "No. I don't. I just wanted to stretch my legs.” He turned off the engine and got out of the car. Turning to point the remote at the car, he locked the doors and set the alarm then started toward the entrance. He took only about six steps before he stopped, standing still in the middle of the parking lot, the sun beaming down on his long black hair so that it reflected blue in the sunlight like a Grackle's iridescent black feathers. His ponytail, the one long plume down his back made him into a peacock, and he already had the beak. He spun around and stared right at her. Oh no, had he read her thoughts? Charles walked back to the car and opened her door for her then offered his arm to help her out. CJ didn't know whether to take his offered hand or bite it. She put her tiny hands on his forearm and pulled herself out of the car. He led her around the parking lot, not going near the entrance to the store, then brought her back to the car. She felt like a dog on a leash. "Thanks.” Her one syllable expression of gratitude dripped sarcasm but it fell on deaf ears for he had already slammed her door and locked it with his remote control. She stared down at the seat, refusing to even look up at him and he spun about to head into the store. After he left she lifted her head and watched as he went straight to the fountain drinks, filled one for her, then left it on the counter as he went into the part of the store that she couldn't see from her position in the car. A few minutes later he came out carrying a shopping bag, and a huge fountain drink with a red straw sticking out of the top. Opening the door with one hand, he held the drink and the bag in the other with the grace of a seasoned waiter, nothing awkward about him. He leaned across the seat and held the drink out to her, then handed her the bag too. "Just a little something for you.” He slid into the seat with one fluid motion, sand through an hourglass, that smooth. Folding down the middle of the seat, it changed into a console complete with beverage holders. He patted the console and she put her drink into the slot designed for that. "It barely fits.” She crammed the quart sized drink into the hole. She took it back out to get a long drink out of the straw. It tasted strange but the thirst got the best of her and she drank again before she put it back into its holder. "Sorry they did not have Coke as you specified. That is Pepsi." "It's okay, thanks for the drink, Charles.” CJ opened the bag to see what else he purchased. "Oh!” Her voice cracked. Inside the bag she found a package of jellied orange slices. CJ fought the tears. Her throat clenched and unclenched as she tried to keep the tears at bay, and the pain in her chest increased almost to the level of agony brought on by her freshly cracked ribs. That pain she hadn't felt for a while now. "Are you not pleased?” He asked with a sincerity that she knew was not forced. He had no reason to pretend with her. "Yes.” She whispered since her larynx refused to let sound through. “Yes, I am pleased. Thank you Charles." Reaching for her drink again she took several long sips, to help her throat relax, and to gain control over her emotions that threatened to spill over at any moment. She would hate for Charles to see her that way, weak. She busied herself trying to open the package. The plastic seemed stronger than steel and would not tear without ripping it open so that candy exploded all over the car. It would be sacrilegious to get sticky, sugary candy on the leather seats or the luxurious carpet at her feet. CJ didn't realize that Charles still watched her. "Allow me to help you with that." She glanced up, surprised that the car still sat parked at the truck stop. Charles leaned over the seat to the glove compartment and pressed the button. He fished around and found a tiny little pocketknife on a keying. It reminded her of a toy, and it very well might have been a toy. He sat back up and took the bag of candy away from her to slice it open with his little knife. Handing the bag back, opened and ready for her, he smiled as he closed the miniature knife and put it back in the glove box.

"You know, size doesn't really matter if it is sharp enough." Having heard that saying before in reference to male private parts, CJ almost lost control again. She drowned her laughter in the fountain drink and coughed as it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Popping an orange slice into her mouth got rid of that aftertaste in a second. "Yum, this is good. Would you like a taste?” She held one of the slices under his nose. He waved her hand away. "No, thank you. I got those for you. Enjoy.” Charles pulled out of the truck stop and drove back to the freeway. The car had an amazing ride, so smooth that if felt like a magic carpet instead of a car traveling along a bumpy frontage road and up a freeway ramp that looked like it had never been paved. The scenery seemed to blur together as the car picked up speed and the magic carpet sailed along, drifting higher and higher above the land until they reached the clouds. Clouds? Her eyes snapped open, her heart racing. She didn't even know she had fallen asleep. But it came again, the overpowering urge to close her eyes, and the lull of the tires on the pavement and the constant motion rocked her back to sleep. Her head lolled about, on a rubber tether, it hung from her shoulders. Someone carried her? No longer in a car, but on a bed. CJ couldn't open her eyes, trapped in her body, a prisoner to the body's resting state. Carried again, warmth in his embrace, hair tickling her face, her own? His? Back in the car, comforting smell of leather seats, hum of the tires through her pillow and on her cheek. Sleep would not release her, tenacious, the sleep monster that kept her captive. A foreign exotic aroma woke her. Nostrils flaring, she opened her eyes. She reclined in the backseat of the car, a light blanket thrown over her. CJ had no idea how she got in the back seat, but the fragrance—it called to her. She breathed it in and tried to peer through the darkness to see what brought her that alluring scent. Oh, wow—it had to be the ocean! "Where are we?” She croaked then tried to clear her throat. Seeing her fountain drink from earlier still sitting in the console cubby, she reached for it. Charles grabbed her hand, stopping her. "No, don't drink that." "Why not? I'm thirsty!” She hadn't meant to whine but she did. "Sorry CJ, you don't want it. Believe me.” He hesitated before he continued and she reached again for the drink. Charles snatched it from the holder and rolled down his window, pouring it out as he drove with the other hand. "Hey!" "I'll buy you another. Have you noticed your surroundings yet? Can you smell it? The Atlantic Ocean? I can always smell it long before we reach the actual coast. Exhilarating, is it not?" CJ rubbed her face. How in the hell did they get to the coast already? Had she slept so very long? She slid over to the door and rolled down the window to stick her head out. The humid night air caught her hair, blowing it out behind her to tangle in moments, but she didn't care. Charles turned into a condominium complex and parked the car. She waited for him to come around and open her door for her. The door opened and he helped her out. Her legs felt like limp noodles, and she would've fallen if he hadn't held her up. "We are here!” He waved his free hand at the looming stucco building. She tried to peer at the palm trees and the building but her eyes refused to focus for very long. The entire scene, so surreal and she couldn't tell if it existed or not. Charles led her to his condo and let her walk in ahead of him. She noticed the patio doors at the opposite end of the apartment and she stumbled across the room to rip the curtains open the rest of the way. "Is it there? Is the ocean there?” Her excitement made him chuckle and he reached around her to unlatch the doors and open them

to the ocean breeze. She heard the roar of the waves! CJ lurched outside and fell off the patio. Good thing the condo happened to be on the ground floor. Charles helped her up and held her arm as she half stumbled, half ran down the sidewalk toward the beach. They stopped at the set of wooden stairs leading over the dunes. CJ held her breath because on the other side of this tiny bridge was the edge of the continent! She let go of Charles and grabbed the handrail to pull herself up the stairs and in her rush to get to the beach she fell down the other side and landed face first in the fine sand. Her fall didn't stop her. She jumped up and ran toward the water, dragging her heavy cast through the sand like a reptilian tail. CJ heard Charles yelling from the bridge to her but she ignored him. He must be worried about getting his fancy shoes dirty. The partial moon overhead shown down like nature's lighthouse, illuminating the beach and the surf. Several yards from the water, her face and arms already felt damp and she brought her arm to her mouth to taste the saltiness. She kept running until she made it to the water and didn't stop once she stepped into the ocean. "I'm standing in the ocean!” CJ screamed at the top of her lungs, happy for the first time since she awoke after the explosion. But her happiness didn't last long. She wished that she could share this experience with her parents. She sat down, right there in the water, the waves washing up and splashing her face, then withdrawing to leave her panties full of sand. Glancing back toward the dunes, she saw Charles silhouetted against the sky as he stood watching her from the top of the stairs, his arms crossed in front of his chest. If he said anything she couldn't hear anyway, with the roar of the surf surrounding her, the cadence of nature's orchestra pounding in her ears. CJ watched the ocean water soaking the sand, withdrawing then soaking the sand again with its hypnotic rhythm. She giggled when she noticed the abundance of little crabs scuttling out of holes in the sand to run down to the water's edge and back, before the surf came again. The crabs were everywhere! She wondered how she'd ran across the sand without seeing any of them before. All different sizes, from the tiniest the size of a quarter, to the largest about the size of her foot. Each ran into its own hole, the size corresponding with their bodies. She enjoyed watching their silly sideways scuttle for quite some time. "You have ruined your leg cast.” That deep voice resonating right in her ear almost made her scream. She spun about, but Charles wasn't there! She jerked her head up to look for him and there he stood, still on the bridge, yards and yards away. He had never put his voice in her head before. Oh but she hated it! If he could do that, then he could hear her thoughts as well, whenever he wanted to. "I can't hear your thoughts that well. Don't worry. I have a very difficult time making sense of chaos. Pun intended.” His voice in her head again! She held her hands over her ears, trying to shut him out. "Stop it!” She screamed and turned away to face the limitless ocean. Far out to sea, she noticed the lights of a ship. She could swim out to that ship like a mermaid. Her father taught her how to swim in the cool clear water of his lake. She swam very well and Dad had beamed at her, his pride in her accomplishment obvious on his handsome face. Her Dad, so handsome, and so unlike Charles the Beakface. She hoped he heard that through the chaos, damn him. CJ decided to lie back in the sand and let the water carry her out to sea but the first wave that broke over her filled her face with sand and bits of seashells and the salt water went up her nose. She coughed and the stinging continued even after the water trickled out of her sinuses. "I guess I will have to get my shoes sandy and go after her. I wish I could be as free as she seems to be. Damn shame". What the hell? She could hear his thoughts as if he talked to her not two feet away. She coughed again and brushed her sandy hair out of her eyes, then splashed seawater on her face and looked back at Charles. He appeared to be in the same position and in the same place as before. He did this. He opened the floodgates in her mind and now she could hear other's thoughts. If that proved to be true, then maybe she could use that same telepathic ability to send a message to her parents. "Dad! I'm in the Atlantic Ocean Dad!” Screaming with all the strength in her mind she tried to send him the message. She focused on the vision of his face and focused on him hearing her. She blocked out any other invasions, including the beakface. Her mind remained open only to her father. Charles left the stairs and started across the sand after her. Frantic now, CJ ran into the water and started to swim. Putting all her strength into each stroke she swam as hard as she could to get as far away from him as possible.

The warm water caressed her skin, gliding down her legs and she realized that her cast fell off somewhere between here and the beach. Great! Her leg felt as strong as the other unbroken one now. Turning on her back she gazed up at the stars and kicked her feet, continuing on her trek out to sea. Maybe she could get all the way out to that ship. Charles bellowed at her from the shoreline. She heard his frantic yells, a jumble of baritone shouts washed away by the sounds of the surf, but she didn't care. The ocean embraced her as she had never been held before. Hypnotic, the gentle waves, sensuous, the slick feel of the salt water and she laughed as she took the water into her mouth, loving the brine as it tickled her tongue. She could remain here forever. At that moment she bumped into something, her back scraping against a coarse surface and it surprised her that she had hit land way out in the ocean. CJ rolled over onto her belly and screamed in terror when she saw the dorsal fin protruding from the water only a few scant yards from her face. It traveled away from her and turned in an arc to swim around her in a circle, an ever-shrinking circle. She blinked and noticed that the water surrounding her seemed a bit darker than the rest of the ocean. Flexing her nostrils, she inhaled and caught a whiff of that darker substance, her blood—her blood stained the sea and drew the killer back for a second taste.

Nineteen "She has sent me a message! CJ said she was in the Atlantic Ocean.” Colin grabbed Linnea's arm in his excitement. “We need to go to the airport, now!" "Colin, calm down. Do you have any idea how big the Atlantic Ocean is?” Colin ignored her and flew into the adjoining room to awaken Milo and Lachlan. They both sat on the edges of their beds, wide-awake and dressed. "We are ready.” Lachlan grinned. “I heard her also. She has awakened her inner voice, her blood seeker senses are alive and functioning as they should. It was inevitable you know, Colin." "Yes, well I am ready to get on the first plane to the coast.” He spun on his heel and rushed back to his room stopping to beat on the bathroom door. "Benjamin, hurry up.” Colin shouted as he stomped back to the bed and slammed his new suitcase shut, clicking it locked in the same motion. Ben threw open the door and came running out, water dripping all over the carpet from his nude body. His hair stood out in soapy spikes all over his head and sudsy trails formed down his face and neck. Ben's expression went from extreme anxiety with rounded eyes and high brows to anger, eyes narrowed and brows crunched when he realized that nothing appeared to be wrong and yet Colin pounded on the door as if his life depended on Ben answering it. Linnea's giggle reminded him that he stood before her unclad and he spun about and rushed back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. "Thanks Colin,” Ben yelled behind the closed door. "Yes, thanks Colin.” Linnea grinned and winked at him, showing her approval of Ben's peep show. Colin glared back at her but his stern look only added fuel to her giggle session. "Well you owe that boy an apology,” Milo said as he entered the room from his vantage point in the doorway. "Whatever for?” Colin tried not to smile, but one corner of his mouth defied him and lifted into a small grin. “He would do the same to me, I tell you." Linnea snorted, a very unladylike cough through her nose that said all she needed to express without muttering a word. "Somehow, I doubt that,” Milo said for both of them. “He would do anything for you Colin. I think sometimes you take that for granted." "You know, I do not think that now is the time for any of you to criticize my behavior or the way I treat my neophyte. We have more pressing matters to attend to, do we not?" Milo and Linnea watched him, neither one willing to say anything and risk setting him off. The last thing they wanted to hear, the last thing anyone with hearing could bear, a tedious sermon from Colin. "Colin, how many decades will you consider that delightful young man a neophyte?” Lachlan spoke up from the doorway between the two adjoining rooms. “Just asking, not trying to start a debate with you, honestly, I am not." Stunned into silence, Colin stared at Lachlan, and then let his gaze drift to Linnea and Milo who sat side by side on the bed closest to the door. Everyone watched him, wondering how he would answer or if he would say anything in response at all. "You know, I never really thought of that. I think he will be my neophyte forever.” Colin smiled, so proud of Ben that it hurt. “I love him as much as my daughter, you know, and I can't imagine ever feeling differently. He is—special." Lachlan laughed then, a soft intimate laugh, for the Ben he once witnessed lurching about in a drunken fashion with his pants hanging by one leg.. Lachlan had seen such a small part of him and already he knew that the depths to Ben's personality proved

fathomless. From the bathroom everyone heard, “I'm right here you know. This is not a bank vault. I can hear every word you're saying." Tinkling laughter, baritone laughs, lighthearted chuckles, it felt so good to laugh. Now that they'd all fed well, rested and healed, their lives would return to some semblance of normalcy, the past few days like a nightmare that they could choose to put out of their heads. As Colin reveled in the merry souls surrounding him, he wondered how life could go on as if Joanna never existed. Thirteen years with her in his life and now she would no longer be there to ridicule him, or chase him, or love him with every cell of her being. He knew that she loved him that much. She showed him that and he would carry that love like a shield around him—for all time. "Come on, Colin, don't let yourself get all morose. Chaos needs us to be at our strongest and sorrow only makes you weak. There will be time to mourn after we have rescued your child.” Milo moved to stand beside his friend. “I will not disappear from your life again. You will not be alone." "Thank you, Milo. Thank you all for being here with me, and helping me put my family back together—and keep my family together. If not for the lot of you, I would not exist right now, nor would I wish to." Ben opened the bathroom door and walked out, this time wearing a towel around his muscular waist He stopped to look in the mirror and comb his damp hair, sans shampoo now that he had it rinsed out. In the mirror, he saw the others all watching him as if he were the evening's entertainment. It would seem all of them had showered and dressed earlier, for they appeared ready to leave, yet here he stood with nothing on other than a thin, white, hotel towel. "I'll be ready in just a few minutes, okay?” They continued to watch as he finished combing his hair and reached for his new clothing that he'd left folded on the chair nearby. Reaching for his towel, he felt his skin flush. He didn't want to be on display for the group. So, without removing the towel, he stepped into his new briefs and pulled them up underneath the towel, then he unwrapped it and tossed it back into the bathroom. Moving as fast as he could, Ben pulled on his slacks and threw his arms into his shirtsleeves to pull his shirt over his back, leaving the buttons unfastened. At last, he left the stage and moved to sit on the bed beside Colin's suitcase and put on his socks and shoes. Strong emotion filled the air and made breathing difficult, anxiety and sorrow and perhaps a touch of lust for the one woman in the room with them also. Thick, the air, but exhilarating at the same time for it meant they all remained in this world, alive and breathing and ready to take on any foe. At that moment, the outside door slammed open, hitting the wall with such force that it broke the doorstop and drove the doorknob into the plaster. An invading army of centenarians charged into the room before any of the occupants could respond. Knocking Ben off the bed, they moved in unison toward Colin and took him by the arms. He struggled but so many powerful hands held him that he didn't stand a chance of escaping their clutches. Milo and Linnea rushed to defend Colin but were thrown to the side in an instant. The invaders pulled Colin toward the door but they would not be leaving with him. Between them and the outside world stood the solid wall of Lachlan. He stood in their path, arms at his waist, feet apart, his glare trained on the one he knew as the leader of this rabble. "You are taking him nowhere.” He said through clenched jaws, his voice a weapon of its own, the fangs shining in his grimace. The leader released his hold on Colin and stepped forward, showing his superiority and his lack of intimidation. Lachlan launched himself without hesitation, landing square on the leader's chest, tearing out his throat with a violent slash of his teeth before the fellow had a chance to catch his breath. The others released Colin and dove at Lachlan trying to save their leader, but the rescue came too late. Lachlan jumped to his feet and glared at them, blood dripping down his chin, the leader's trachea hanging like a severed tentacle from his hand. "Who's next?” He shouted. “You?” He pointed to the tall blonde man. “You?” He pointed at the other one poised to grab him from the right side. They stopped, watching him with trepidation. Things were not going as they had planned. They glanced around at the others and realized that now the numbers stood even with their leader gone. Trying to size them up would be impossible, except for Lachlan. They all knew him since he rode with them as an avenger on more than one occasion.

"Why do you defend the accused?” asked the tall blonde. Lachlan knew this one from previous missions. "Marcus, if you know me at all, you know that if I believed him to be guilty I would kill him myself. You do not want to fight me on this.” Lachlan spoke with an authority that his friends had, so far, never heard. Standing behind Colin, another avenger grew angrier by the moment. He would not lose this kill after looking forward to it, especially because of who the guilty party happened to be. He loathed the pompous Colin and he would have his chance! An arm of extraordinary strength closed around Colin's neck from behind and he bucked to dislodge his attacker. His efforts failed. "Yves stop!” Marcus.shouted. Yves ignored him and drove his sharp incisors into Colin's throat. Colin froze and allowed his body to go limp as if he surrendered to his inevitable death. His legs folded in on themselves and he fell to the floor with Yves still attached to his throat in victory. In one shocking move, Colin twisted his body around to face Yves, jerking the fangs out of his throat and yanking his body underneath him to drive his knee right into his windpipe. Yves struggled, beating at Colin's leg to no avail. As Colin stared into his face, he reached with both hands to grab Yves’ head, and with a quick jerk he snapped his neck. The body quivered as the messages from the brain disappeared and the nerves went haywire. Colin took the opportunity to latch onto Yves throat and glut himself on the dead man's blood before it cooled. "We are the avengers, Lachlan. You know we cannot leave here without him or it will be our deaths.” Marcus pleaded with him now as they watched Colin wipe his mouth on Yves’ shirt. "Then you will die here.” Lachlan's words sent goose bumps down Marcus’ arms but he stood tall, ready to attack. The other three avengers followed his lead and prepared themselves. "We are taking the accused with us, whether you like it or not.” Marcus bent his head to ram it into Lachlan's gut. Lachlan moved, lightening fast, to the side and Marcus ran into the door, his head going all the way through the solid wood and into the sheetrock behind it. The other three tried to grab Colin again, but this time, Linnea, Ben and Milo attacked them in return. Linnea caught the youngest looking one by the crotch, her favorite attack mode. She lifted him off his feet by the handful of slacks, underwear, testicles and shriveled penis. The man screamed, his tone higher pitched than one would expect from a man as large in stature, and Linnea threw him across the room. He crashed into the large mirror over the sink and fell to the counter top. She followed right behind him and while he tried to regain his senses she yanked his pants down and drove her fangs into his inner thigh, draining him in one huge draught. Milo ripped one of the avengers away from Colin and pummeled his soft face with his fists, rapid fire punches that left instant bruises and long tears in the skin. The man returned the punches but Milo stood several inches taller than him and he missed Milo's face, hitting him instead in the collarbone and shoulder. His opponent faltered and with an upward thrust, Milo used the heel of his hand to drive the man's nose into his brain, killing him. He let the body drop and turned to help Benjamin, but he needed no assistance. Colin and Ben had the other attacker on the floor between the two beds. Colin stood on the man's head and Ben sat on his chest, the beaten man's wrist in his mouth, drawing the life from his veins. Colin watched with an odd detachment as the face beneath his feet turned gray and then pasty white. When Ben dropped the arm and moved away, Colin kneeled down and smoothed the hair out of the dying man's face, then he reached for the heavy lamp on the table and held it high over his head, his arms flexing as he prepared to smash it. He brought it down with as much force as he could, shattering the lamp and the man's head at the same time. Lachlan still battled with Marcus. The others moved to stand together and watch the spectacle as if Lachlan and Marcus were gladiators in an arena. They dove at each other with fangs bared and hands like claws, again and again and again, neither really gaining any headway.

Marcus never encountered his target and Lachlan seemed to be holding back, toying with the other centenarian. Lachlan slapped his face leaving a large red handprint on his cheek, and then he slapped the other cheek leaving a twin impression on that side. He saw the others watching and winked at them before he slapped Marcus again, this time on the ear. "You stand alone, now Marcus. Are you sure you want to finish this?” Lachlan's honeyed tone relaxed him so that he dropped his arms and looked around him. The carnage splattered throughout the room shocked him and he gasped, hardly able to understand the images he saw with his own eyes. His comrades, all dead. Five powerful centenarians facing him, with at least two of them old enough to be millennials, and one for sure, an avenger also. "I know not what to do, Lachlan. Pray, tell me what can I do?” He backed away from the formidable, united clan facing him. The avengers had not counted on there being so many of the others with Colin. Centenarians did not remain in groups like this! "Turn around and leave us,” said Lachlan. “Leave us quickly, my friend.” He nodded to the bloodthirsty group assembled behind him. “Before they change my mind for me—run!” Marcus did just that too. He took off like a greyhound leaving the starting gate and ran without looking back. "How are we to clean up this mess now?” Linnea glanced around the room with her lip curled. "I refuse to take the time to clean this up. It was not our fault,” said Colin. "Don't worry. I'll make a call and have a crew come out and clean it up. I have connections with the agency.” Lachlan kept his gaze down as he divulged this secret knowledge. "What agency?” Of course Ben would ask such a question. "Don't ask.” Lachlan crossed the room, avoiding the bodies and spots of blood and other gore. The others waited in the room, all of them acting like they were engrossed in themselves, but Lachlan knew better. Colin studied his cuffs so intently that it appeared he'd discovered a new world there in the threads and Milo had become fascinated with his fingernails as if they'd only just this moment grown on the ends of his fingers. "All right, all of you,” Lachlan sighed and waved his hands toward the door. “Please wait for me outside.” He laughed as they feigned innocence. "I don't think I can take much more of your collective nonchalance.” None of the bunch moved very fast, all of them dragging their feet, but no one said anything or tried to argue with him. "What agency is he talking about?” The others looked back at Ben, blank expressions pasted on their disinterested faces. He blew air loudly through his nose and scoffed at them. “I know that you're all interested so stop pretending that you're not. Who the hell are the avengers anyway? Sounds like a cartoon to me." "I do believe that they are the self-appointed protectors of our clan. They seek to dole out justice where they feel injustice has been committed. Don't you agree, Milo?” Colin looked to his friend since he knew more about the community than he did. Milo shook his head, and with his thumb and forefinger twisted his mustache into points on both ends. "I have never heard of such a thing, to tell you the truth. I actually thought Lachlan only tried to frighten you when he spoke of the others coming for you because of the misdeeds you committed in the town. If there is such an organization, it is a covert one.” Milo dropped his hand from his face and brushed some carpet fuzz off the knee of his black slacks. He frowned with distaste at the black pants. He should have chosen another color but he went with black because the others did. Hundreds of years old, and like a dolt, he succumbed to peer pressure. His little stable of willing donors would not recognize him in his all black costume. Linnea moved into the middle of the group and waved them into her huddle She whispered to them like a football team sharing strategies on the field. "Lachlan is part of this secret group you know. He knew those that came to the room, and perhaps he knew they were coming for you too, Colin. Do you think?” She glanced toward the room to see if Lachlan approached, and when she saw that he didn't, she

began again. “I wonder if he can be trusted. Maybe he pretends to be on our side so he can remain with us, and when we find CJ he will steal her for himself, and kill all of us." Ben burst into laughter but he clamped his hand over his mouth when he noted the fierce glare Linnea shot at him. "Well, sorry, but to think that is a bit ridiculous. He could have killed us all long ago. He has done nothing but help. I would eat my shorts if we ever find a deceitful bone in Lachlan's body.” Ben moved closer to Colin and farther away from Linnea as he spoke, but he still said his piece with confidence. "You would eat your shorts, huh?” Colin cocked his head, staring as if he measured the size of Ben's mouth. "I'm sorry Linnea, but I have to agree with Ben this time,” Milo said. “You may not be aware of this, but if not for Lachlan I know that none of us would have left that wreckage alive. Why not leave us all there to die? Why not go after CJ by himself? See?” Linnea tilted her head to the side, thinking about what Ben said, and then she nodded. "You are correct, young one. I am letting my imagination run away with me.” She smiled then, to show Ben and Milo she harbored no ill feelings. "Yes, but what I would like to know is exactly how you would eat your shorts and which shorts would you choose?" "Colin!” Linnea scolded him with a look and just his name. "Shhh. Here he comes.” Ben warned them just in time. "Done deal,” Lachlan said as he drew near. They moved apart some so they would not look like conspirators but they moved too late, he already studied them as if he knew they had been talking about him. "I would be ashamed of you all if you were not curious about me and my connections, so stop worrying so much.” He looked at Linnea and then he lifted his suitcase and walked around to the trunk of the rental car. They all burst into motion. Colin reaching into his pocket for the car keys, Ben retrieving the suitcase and moving it to the rear of the car and Milo picking up his and Linnea's cases to do the same. Linnea waited at the passenger door for Colin to unlock it. She hated the backseat and she would do anything to make sure she sat in the front, though the men would willingly give it up to her anyway. Being female brought her many advantages that she never even thought of. After storing the luggage the men fought over who got stuck in the middle of the back seat, then they all settled in. Colin could not see around Ben's head to use the rearview mirror, but with the big frown on Ben's face, he chose to just use the side mirrors and not mention it. What a bunch to have in one small car! Colin almost went into hysterics looking back at the three in the backseat. Lachlan looking out the window, trying to appear as if riding in the car did not bother him, though everyone knew it did. Milo smug as can be because he did not sit in the middle. Ben, furious because he could not hope to win against Milo and Lachlan and so there he sat, in the middle, sandwiched between the two older and much more formidable males. He held himself as motionless as he could, making sure that his legs did not touch theirs and his arms remained crossed in front of his chest. Colin coughed to keep himself from giggling. He saw Linnea jerk her head around to look at him, but he ignored her. If he met her gaze, he would lose control. Colin avoided looking in the rearview mirror all the way to the airport and managed to control himself. After parking the car, they got the luggage and headed into the airport as a group, but as they neared the doors, Milo stopped them. "We don't have photo ID's. You know how strict airport security is because of the damned terrorists." Lachlan smiled at the baffled group. “Not a problem, you worrisome young ones. Just stick with me." They approached the fresh-faced young lady at the far end of the counter. No other employees lingered nearby. Perfect for Lachlan's needs. His eyes locked with hers, her mind already processing the information he willed her to believe.

Her eyes clouded, she pressed the buttons on her computer and printed the tickets to Orlando, Florida. She saw their ID's in her mind, then placed their boarding passes into separate folders. Colin tapped Lachlan on the shoulder with money in his hand. "No need, Colin. I have already paid the nice lady." Colin frowned back at him, but thought better about arguing with his ancient companion. Lachlan took the boarding passes from the drowsy woman and passed them out to everyone. "We should split up so that we don't look so conspicuous. Large groups make the airline security personnel nervous." "Good idea, Milo. I'll take Linnea and Benjamin.” Milo and Lachlan moved away first. The flight left in just over an hour so they walked over to the terminal area by their departure gate. Colin's group waited for a few minutes then they followed the others to the terminal. Milo and Lachlan sat at the bar watching sports of some kind on the small television behind the bartender's head. He placed two drinks in front of them and Colin shook his head when he saw that they had ordered Bloody Marys. Waiting for them to see him, he moved closer to the glass separating the bar from the rest of the terminal and mouthed, ‘funny’ at them. Milo smiled and lifted his glass to Colin before he removed the celery and downed it in one long gulp, smacking his lips as he put the empty glass back on the bar. Colin rolled his eyes and turned to go find a seat, but he ran into Ben who stood right behind him. "Can we..." "No.” Colin interrupted him before he could finish his sentence and pointed at the chairs. “We will be boarding soon. You can get something to drink on the plane." Ben met Linnea's eyes and moved his mouth like he said Colin's words with a sneer, mocking him for being such a party pooper. He stopped though when Colin's hand smacked into the back of his head. "Take your seat, Benjamin.” Ben and Linnea sat down and she reached to hold his hand. He squeezed her hand then held it between his and rubbed. "Your hands are so cold.” He rubbed them both to warm them. “Are you afraid of flying?" She nodded, yes. "It's no biggie, really. Nothing to worry about at all. Just make chewing motions at take off and landing to keep your ears from popping.” Linnea pulled her hands back to her own lap after she patted Ben's leg for being so helpful. He remained distracted, looking around the airport, making sidelong glances at Colin, then looking around the terminal again. "I'm going to the restroom. I'll be back in a moment." Ben left his chair and hurried across the busy room. Colin did not look up from the magazine he found on the small table beside him. Linnea, however, did watch Ben and she saw the direction he took. "Colin, I'm also going to use the ladies room before we get on the plane.” She left her chair and followed Ben to the bar. Poor Colin, such a prim man for one so young and handsome. The four of them moved to a table in the bar and had another round of the tomato juice beverages delivered to them. Linnea held the glass using only her fingertips, as if the condensation would contaminate her skin. She brought it to her lips, hesitating as the cold glass pressed against her skin then she tipped it and allowed the red liquid to trickle into her mouth. The others watched her face as she took her first sip, amused at one so ancient trying so hard to hide her anxiety and failing. "Mmm. It's quite good!” She took another sip and then turned the glass up and downed it. Ben drank his down in one long gulp

too. Milo raised his hand and ordered more drinks. "This is nice, yes? Nice to relax and just enjoy each other's company. Almost human, you know?” Lachlan beamed at the others. “I have never done this. I like it!” He drank his tomato juice concoction and smacked his lips together making a louder sound than he meant to. "Oops.” Lachlan giggled. "How many drinks have you had already, Lachlan?” asked Linnea. "Only two, I think. Yes, two and they are delicious.” He reached across the table for Linnea's hand and caught one finger before she pulled away then slapped his hand. "Keep your drunken hands to yourself." "Drunken? That is impossible for us, you know.” “Uh huh.” She grinned back at him. The next round of drinks arrived and Ben lifted his glass to his lips, filling his mouth with the Bloody Mary, swishing it around on his tongue, then he choked, spewing red juice across the table. He pointed to the doorway and there stood Colin, arms crossed, foot tapping so hard that one of his curls bounced beside his face every time his foot struck the floor. "I just can't take you people anywhere, now can I?" They stared at each other across the table, no one willing to even look at Colin as they waited for the ax to fall. Silence so thick that you could cut it with that proverbial ax. "Passengers are now boarding for Continental flight 37 to Orlando,” boomed through the speakers. Saved by the boarding call. The guilty four rose from their chairs and hurried out of the bar to get in line for boarding. No one said a word, though the gleeful expressions remained despite their collective efforts to mask them. Out of nowhere, a group of armed, uniformed men yanked Milo out of line. "You aren't going anywhere buddy." "Hey!” Milo balked as they took him by both arms to escort him away from the others. It appeared that he stiffened his back and prepared to struggle but glanced back at Colin, saw the slight motion of his head and relaxed, allowing them to force him away. "What on earth are we to do now?” sputtered Ben. Dad, help me! Daddy! Her spine-chilling scream echoed through Colin's brain and he felt sick. The security officers came toward the line again, their guns drawn, and this time it looked as if they planned to take him.

Twenty CJ called for her Dad over and over as the shark swam closer to her. She glimpsed the ancient predator's cold soulless eyes as it made the last pass and she feared that it would be coming to devour her with its next circle. The water surrounding her no longer appeared darker and the strong blood scent dissipated. Her wound may not be as serious as it first appeared, but the imminent threat of the killer still faced her. She tried kicking the shark as it swam close, but the water slowed her movements and made her kick little more than a love tap on its gleaming side. The shark's interest had already been sparked and it would not leave. She didn't know whether to swim for shore or to remain still and float, or to dive under the water. The shark did seem to swim closer to her when she kicked her feet more so she tried remaining still. Of course if she didn't tread water, she sank. The water closing over her head seemed far worse than tackling the shark. Without air she had no chance at all, but as long as she could breathe, she could still make it. Turning so that she faced the shore, she noticed that Charles no longer stood at the edge of the water. So he had abandoned her after all. The enormous solid muscle eating machine rounded another turn and came back at her, this time with its mouth open to bite! CJ screamed. Just when she thought all was lost, a dark shadow passed beneath her and shot into the shark's underbelly, pushing its wicked tooth-filled head out of the water for a brief second. She took that opportunity to swim as fast as she could towards shore, not looking back until she felt the sand with her toes. Then she stood on the bottom, her head out of the water, and tried to see what happened next. A great tumult stirred the water just beneath the surface, and the churning sea had white caps in that spot, as if an undersea storm erupted in one isolated section of the ocean. The ocean quieted once more to the rhythmic roar of the surf and the placid ocean no longer whipped to a frenzy in the shark's vicinity. Charles popped out of the water in the middle of a darkening sea. "Go on, swim to shore now CJ.” His voice so weak, she strained to hear him over the waves. “Please don't make my sacrifice in vain." His head slipped under the water. "Charles!" Nothing but the ocean to answer her. She called again for him, hysteria in that one screeched word. "Charles!" Sobbing now, CJ turned toward the beach and started swimming again. Not that she had feelings for her captor, but he did care about her, and now it seemed he died for her as well. Her knees scraped the sand and she crawled the rest of the way onto the beach. Charles left his shirt, pants and shoes lying in the sand and she crawled over to them and rested her head on his slacks. Something hard poked into her cheek and she lifted her head to notice that she'd put her face on the pocket. Sitting up now, she reached into his pocket and found the car keys and a key to the condo with the number 8 on it. At least she could get into the room, but not yet. She would wait and see if he made it out of the ocean. She waited, counting to sixty over and over again. If he lived now, it would be a miracle. She watched the surface of the water for his head and nothing broke the smooth plane where she saw him disappear.

The moon left a bright stripe of glowing sea across the tranquil ocean and it mesmerized her, along with the rolling roar of the waves crashing on the beach. That serene water hid many demons under its calm façade. CJ didn't think she could ever enter that terrifying world again and there it waited just a few feet off shore, taunting her with its salty blue beauty. Warm and comforting the sea off the coast of Florida, but just as lethal as it is beautiful. She stood now and walked down to the water, letting the gentle waves lap at her feet and suck the sand from under her bare soles. No creatures here at the very edge of the continent. No creatures except for the tiny fish that darted in and darted out with every cycle of the waves, and the spindly crabs, little crustacean clowns that dashed sideways across the sand, their tiny eyes on stalks, alert as they watched for predators in the night sky. If not for these little organisms she would be alone in the world, alone with the shark that waited for her, waiting for that meal that got away. Her imagination took her away for a moment and she backed out of the water until she stood in dry sand. She envisioned those jagged razor sharp teeth, row upon row of them, biting into her legs, her arms and even her torso. Then, she remembered the blood in the water and the bump on her back. She lifted her shirt trying to see but couldn't. The skin felt warm to the touch though and when she rubbed her hand across her back it hurt. Several more long minutes went by and still no sign of Charles. CJ resigned herself to the fact that he would not be returning, not now—not ever. Poor Charles. She felt bad for ever thinking of him as a beakface now. No, he was nothing less than a hero. She gathered his clothes and the keys and tramped across the sand to the dunes and over the bridge into the condo courtyard. All the patio doors looked alike now, and she couldn't remember which one she ran out of to get to the ocean. Walking around the building, she went to the front doors and found the one marked number 8. The key fit into the lock with ease and the door swung open. She padded into the cool tile entryway and closed the door behind her. So dark inside but the moon shone in from the patio and CJ made her way to the kitchen to turn on the light. Hanging on the wall right in front of her, she saw a telephone. At first she couldn't believe it so she just stared, then in slow motion she lifted her trembling hand to remove the receiver. A dial tone! Holding it to her ear, she tried to punch in the numbers to her dad's cell phone. Her hands shook so much that she kept hitting the wrong keys and had to push the disconnect button and start over. After several tries, she pressed the correct buttons and the phone rang. It rang and rang and rang then went to voice mail. CJ slammed the phone back on its cradle. She wanted to scream or cry or both. She did nothing but collapse on the frosty tile floor and stare at the ceiling. **** His phone rang as it lay in the heap with the rest of his confiscated belongings on the table in front of him. The officers stared at the ringing phone as if it were an alien being bent on taking over the world, one security officer at a time. "Might I answer that?” Colin asked in as polite of a manner as he could muster when all he wanted to do was choke the life out of the idiots across the desk from him. One of the officers picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID, then wrote the number down. Colin watched as he printed 321, the area code in central Florida! "That is my daughter! Please allow me to answer.” Just as the officer decided to hand him the phone, it stopped ringing and he put it back down on the table. "Oh well. If it really was your daughter I'm sure she will call back.” He spoke without looking up at his detainee. If he did happen to see the deadly glare that Colin shot at him, he would throw him in jail without checking to see if he was the terrorist they suspected him of being. Through the glass separating the two rooms, he saw Milo sitting at a table much like the one where they parked him. Milo had his head back, staring at the ceiling in total boredom while the security officers argued among themselves. Colin could wait no longer. He would just have to use his talents to get out of here before they missed their plane. He used mesmerism on his victims all the time so why not use it now? His heartbeat quickened in anticipation, the fang teeth dropping into place behind his lip.

Colin summoned the supervisor with a mentally issued command. The door between the two rooms opened and a large hulking officer entered and bowed his balding head beside him. Before the man opened his mouth to speak, Colin used every ounce of his mental power to plant the thought in this officer's mind. Let these two innocent men go at once, and make sure they do not miss their flight. The officer shook his head, wiping his hand across his brow before he looked down at the innocent man his colleagues had pulled from the line. "We apologize Dr. Mires. Please forgive us for the inconvenience.” He pushed Colin's personal effects closer to him and bowed again. “Again, please accept our apologies for this untoward invasion of your privacy." Though delighted that his suggestion worked, Colin rose from the chair like a broiling dark thundercloud and picked up his things, putting them in his pockets before he looked up at the now cowering officer. "And my travel companion?” His words quiet, but at the same time as demanding as a shout. "Oh.” The balding security officer met his eyes. “You are both free to go with our apologies.” Colin continued to stare at him, watching as the bead of sweat popped out on his forehead and ran down his temple. He often had this effect on people when he remained in close proximity to them. Even the most insensitive person couldn't help but feel the underlying power in the being standing before them. Colin turned as if to leave, but then with slow movements, he turned back to the officers still sitting at the desk and glared at them with as much menace as he could muster in a simple stare. "If I cannot reach my daughter, after you caused me to miss her call, I will hold you responsible.” He paused, watching the man squirm before he cleared his throat and continued in that low, restrained voice that could scare the bravest man. "You better pray that she answers. I have reached the end of my control." The security man licked his lips and gulped, but to his credit, he didn't cower. "Are you threatening me, Dr.?” Colin smiled now, impressed with the man's bravado. "Not a threat, my dear man.” He spun about and headed back to the door flinging the words over his shoulder as he cleared the room. "A promise." Colin flipped through his call log as soon as he entered the hallway, and with a sideways glance at Milo, he pressed the dial button. He held his breath as the phone rang. On the third ring, he heard the click of someone answering at the other end—then nothing. He waited, but still heard nothing. Removing the phone from his ear, he looked at the display to see that he had lost his signal. "Damn cell phone!” His rage grew to huge proportions and his hand shook as he tried to control his urge to throw the phone as hard and as far as he could. Milo's gentle touch on his arm, cold fingers even through his clothing, the icy bones wrapped around his forearm, brought him back down to earth before he exploded into the stratosphere. "Colin. Cell phones always have poor reception in an airport, don't they? You can call her from the plane.” Milo pointed to the gates and pulled at Colin's arm now to hurry him along. "They are holding the plane just for us and the others have already boarded.” He tugged again at Colin, pulling his sleeve when the other centenarian slid his arm through his fingers.

"Milo, I kid you not. If you do not release me I will rip your arm from the socket and beat you with it.” Milo dropped Colin's arm, almost thrusting it away in his haste and then stepped back. "So sorry.” He moved to put a good distance between himself and his cranky comrade. Milo picked his own pace to get to the gate and just hoped that Colin would soon follow. He had no doubt that Colin would kill everyone in the airport if the plane took off without him. The lady at the gate held the fat burgundy roping in her hands, leaving it open for them. As Milo handed her his boarding pass, he smiled and nodded his head toward the glowering and very slow moving, Colin. "That man is also on this plane. Please make sure he boards.” She smiled up at him and winked. "No problem, sir. The pilot has been instructed to wait until we send him the okay for take off.” She leaned forward to an intimate distance and whispered to Milo. “Your friend must be very important because they never hold a plane full of passengers for anybody." "Important? Oh yes, I would say so. Hmmm. Important.” Milo let his voice trail off as he inhaled the warm scent of her, the perfume of the human soul—divine. He could lose himself in her essence, and now he felt so very hungry. "Sir?” She cleared her throat, her trembling fingers reaching to push him away but she dropped her hand without touching him. "Oh,” Milo sputtered and backed away, his lips held taut and pressed together. "I beg your pardon, ma'am.” He tipped his head to her and turned to march down the long hollow tunnel to board the plane, without looking back. Colin's cantankerous aura preceded him on the plane, and Milo felt him almost as if Colin plunged those disgruntled spines through his skull. The powerful always did this, subconsciously perhaps, but nevertheless the pounding headache arrived before the guilty centenarian did. Milo felt himself grow irritable despite his intentions to remain jovial in the face of Colin's extreme bad temper. When the reason for his pain and foul mood seated himself in the narrow seat beside Milo, he turned his throbbing head to glare at him. "Must you announce your presence with such pomposity?” Milo growled as he gritted his teeth and massaged his forehead with whitened fingertips. Colin looked down his aristocratic nose at him, watching his friend as he snapped at him in obvious pain. "Whatever do you mean?” Colin's stern face was wreathed with innocence. "Oh for crying out loud, Colin. You know damn well what I mean. You're giving me a fearsome headache. Please stop it." Milo saw the twitch at the corner of Colin's mouth. One wouldn't notice it without insight as discerning as his, and with a dizzying wave the pain subsided, leaving behind the tingling in his forehead that he often experienced in close proximity to the others. "You said that you were able to control yourself when it came to another centenarian's presence, Milo. How is it my fault that you have failed, or that you are a liar?" Colin's soft spoken words, meant only for his ears, teased him as only Colin could with his warped sense of veiled humor. Milo knew Colin had been projecting without realizing it, and as soon as he brought it to his attention, he reined in that tremendous force, with the lethal control that kept Milo in awe of his unwavering strength. He would rather do battle with any creature on the planet other than Colin. He started to say something to taunt Colin in return, but thought it prudent to just remain silent. Colin's mood could flare like a

sudden eruption broiling from the bowels of the earth and he would prefer to not be the fissure that released the pent up pressure. Milo watched as Colin ran his fingers over his cell phone over and over again, polishing the plastic face to a glistening finish. He stared out the oval window, his thoughts kept to himself until he whipped his head around and caught Milo gawking at him. "Whatever are you ogling me for?” Colin snapped, the irritation quick to flood his voice and drown out any good humor he shared just moments before. "Ogling? Dream on, my friend.” Milo snapped right back at Colin, mirroring his grating tone. To his surprise, Colin chuckled and cuffed him on the knee. "Would you two like to be alone?” Linnea piped up from the seat behind them. Milo twisted his head around and grinned at her. Seated between Ben and Lachlan she looked like a little girl, so dwarfed by the two larger men. He expected her feet to swing back and forth, unhindered by the floor that she couldn't reach. Glancing at the others he noticed the smirk, first on Ben's face, and as his gaze darted to Lachlan he saw that same grin reflected there. "Don't think that I failed to notice you three all crammed together back there.” He bobbed his head in Colin's direction before he continued. “Leaving me stuck in the seat next to—him." He laughed and watched from the corner of his eye to make sure a fist did not rocket toward his head. Colin turned in his seat as if to join the conversation but he said nothing. Milo turned around to see what kept his companion from defending himself and saw the anguish mixed with hope so visible in Colin's features. He followed his gaze and knew right away what caused that expression. A woman retreated down the aisle toward the rear of the plane. Her long dark hair swung free down her back in almost the same deep sienna shade as Joanna's mane. Her short stature made that hair appear even longer and her skin glowed a deep copper color, earned from a lifetime spent near the coast. "That is not her, Colin." Colin sucked air through his clenched teeth and blew it out, still watching the young woman until she disappeared through the thick curtain separating the sections of the airplane. "I miss her." Murmured sorrow. Milo felt the pain in Colin's voice, pain he'd hidden well since his grief stricken episode in the small, hill country town. "I am sorry, friend. I know you miss her and I can't even say that I know how you feel because that would be a lie. You are controlling your grief well now. I understand how very difficult it must be." Tears threatened to break free and Milo decided it might be best to leave Colin alone for a moment. "Excuse me.” He left his seat to visit the restroom. Colin would hate anyone seeing him in a moment of weakness and even though Milo did not consider mourning one's wife a weakness, Colin would. As Milo neared the restroom door, he saw the sign change from ‘occupied’ to ‘available’ and a young woman stepped out. Looking down the aisle both ways, Milo checked to see if anyone watched and then he stepped to block her path. "Well, hello beautiful.” He smiled and locked gazes with her. She fell right in to his trap, staring into his eyes and he lifted his hand to her waist and guided her back into the tiny cubicle that served as the plane's restroom. "Don't be afraid.” His voice curled around her, caressing her with every syllable as she backed into the little sink and he lifted her to sit her on the edge as he closed the door behind him and moved the lever over to ‘occupied'.

"What is your name?” He whispered into her ear and followed that murmur with his tongue, leaving a moist path across her ear and down her neck to the hollow next to her collarbone. She inhaled, the sensuous sound of air rushing down to her lungs, then she sighed, trying to speak through lips that did not want to cooperate with her brain. "Sam.... Sam.... “she stuttered. “Samantha,” she finally managed to say. "Relax, Sam, Sam, Samantha.” He lifted the hair away from her throat, rubbing the silky golden strands between his fingers before he let them drop. She held her breath as he smoothed the skin of her neck with the precision of a surgeon choosing where to place his scalpel. His mouth followed that same carefully chosen path, the fang teeth sliding across her dimpled flesh, aching to enter. Samantha let her head fall back, exposing the full length of her tender neck. It delighted him, but he could not do such a thing, for the marks would show and he never left a visible mark unless he knew the donor to be discreet. A low growl rumbled in his chest and he lapped at the pulse beating faster and faster in that depression at the crook where her slender neck met her shoulder. His sharp fang teeth sliced into her soft tissue with ease and she flinched for the briefest of moments then relaxed again, allowing her body to fall against him and dissolve into his comforting embrace. Milo held her as he held all his donors, with love and tenderness, even as his teeth inflicted pain and he drew from that fresh well, her intoxicating life force. Each one of his donors would willingly give him what he never dared to take, their mortal lives. So naïve and trusting—the youth of this century, and he refused to take advantage of that trust. He left them with their souls and their lives intact, kissing the offered faces and cherishing the innocence as he held each one in his arms and basked in the warmth of their fragile bodies. He treated this precious creature the same, holding her against his chest after the wicked teeth tore her unblemished throat, ruining that virgin canvas. Milo eased his fangs from the wound, bathed the tiny seeping holes with his tongue then moved his lips to her ear and the top her head, showering her with kisses before he eased her out of his arms. What would it be like to hold a true mate in this manner? He could not begin to imagine how Colin felt, losing Joanna, when Milo couldn't stand to release this young woman he knew in only the most rudimentary way. That adoring look, he loved it so and he would bask in her eyes forever if he could. He sighed and stroked her arms from elbow to wrist then held her hands in his larger ones. Her clammy fingers hinted at her blood loss but she would soon get over that, sooner in fact than he would get over his encounter with her. He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, his mustache brushing across her lips and she ran her tongue over them to ease the tickle before she grinned back at him. "You won't remember me, or our encounter here, babydoll.” Her upturned lips reversed into a frown. "Ah, you will forget because I demand that you do. Go to your seat and signal the attendant. Ask for some juice and cookies. Tell her you have low blood sugar and she will rush to get them for you." He stepped aside, eased her to the door and turned the latch, watching her stumble, then catch herself against the door frame. Not looking back she hesitated a moment, then with an unsteady gait she returned to her seat. Milo waited in the small cubicle until the announcement for all passengers to take their seats crackled through the speakers mounted in the ceiling. He hurried to do just that. Linnea would be in a state of panic about the departure. As soon as he drew near enough to see Linnea's expression he knew that everyone in the plane might be in for one hell of a show. The whites of her eyes were non-existent, her pupils covering the entire visible parts of her eyes. Ben pressed himself against the side of the plane and gawked at her, his face blanched and his mouth hanging open so far that Milo saw his damaged tongue inside, smeared with blood. Milo slid into Lachlan's seat and turned to grab Linnea with both hands, shaking her shoulders as he tried to gain her attention. "Linnea! Linnea, damn it, you cannot do this here. Not here!” He shook her again, harder this time. "You can't change now, you coward.” His urgent stage whisper began to attract the attention of some of the nearby passengers

and he moved closer to her, his face inches from her nose. "Linnea...” His remaining words died in his throat when her hand clamped around his forearm with such force that he thought he heard the bones snap. "I—am—not—a—coward.” Linnea spoke in slow angry words. At least he gained her attention, albeit, painful attention. The pressure on his arm increased and he fought hard to control the wince that would grace his features if she didn't stop squeezing soon. The pain grew too large to ignore. "Please, stop. I meant only to snap you out of your trance before you changed into a wolf right here on the plane. Do you condemn me for this?" Linnea glared, her pupils now pinpoints, but she released him. He glanced down to see blue marks in the shape of her small fingers striped across his arm. When he lifted his gaze back to her face, she tilted her head to the side, examining Milo as if he lay sprawled between two pieces of thin glass, a prepared slide for her to view. Her nostrils flared and her pupils dilated again. "What have you been up to my love?” Her voice a low intoxicating drawl. She smelled the blood on his breath. An idea popped into his head. A way to keep Linnea calm and distracted, or at least just distracted during the take off, until the plane leveled out and sailed through the air. Pouring on his ample charm, Milo grinned down at her, lifting his eyebrows and nodding his head with smooth macho allure. He ignored Benjamin's gagging and choking noises, continuing to smile at his charmed one. A quick glance to the seats in front of him showed Lachlan and Colin deep in murmured conversation, oblivious to anything going on behind them. No help to him—not that he needed it. Milo could handle this vixen, and he would handle her well. A tap on his shoulder startled him for a moment and he whipped his head around to see who dared intrude! The nervous flight attendant backed away but thrust her chin out and looked back at him with a bravado that she didn't truly feel, however she put up a great front. "Excuse me sir, but you must sit back in your seat and fasten your seat belt for take off.” Her voice trembled once when she started to speak and then years of training kicked in and gave her the confidence boost she needed. When Milo made no move to do as she bid, she put her hands on her hips and pursed her thin, bright coral lips at him. "If you don't do as we ask, you will be removed from the plane, sir.” He had a sudden image of himself strapping the young brunette spread-eagled to a four-poster bed, but Linnea shattered his erotic vision with her abrupt tone and a tug on his shirtfront. "Sit down, Milo.” He obeyed, letting his body flow into the seat, like the heated lava his broiling blood imitated as it rushed through his veins. He reached for the seat belt and fumbled, grasping the empty slot and looking up at the flushed attendant. The aircraft began to roll down the runway. She hesitated then bent at the waist and reached behind him, searching the crevice of the seat for his belt. He waited, helpless as a lamb, as she tried in vain to get him buckled in. "Oh, where is the end to this damned thing?” She muttered behind his back and he grinned when her breast brushed against his arm. "Milo!” Lachlan's deep tenor bellow knocked the grin right off his face and caused the baffled attendant to jump away from Milo as if he'd became a downed live wire sizzling on the wet pavement. She darted up the aisle to her small seat on the far wall and buckled herself in, refusing to even look at him again. "Behave yourself, young one,” Lachlan said, his voice now a murmur instead of a resounding roar, and without waiting for a response he turned around in his seat, leaving Milo to stare at the back of his flowing white mane. Keeping his head down to hide his embarrassment at being chastised by his elder, he busied himself pulling the seat belt from beneath his rear end. Milo clamped the two ends together just as the plane started to gather speed. Before he had a chance to move his hands away from the buckle, Linnea reached over with claws of iron and clamped onto his hands, grinding the long

bones of his fingers together in her frosty grip. "Relax.” He soothed as he struggled to free his hands. He managed to get free from her terror stricken grasp, held her hands in one hand, then put his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her as close to him as possible over the dividing armrest between their seats. Releasing her hands he ran his fingers over her hair, and cooed soft nonsense syllables to her, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek to drown out the sound of the revving engines. Cradling her head away from his chest so that he could see into her eyes, he smiled. “Kiss my throat, kitten." Linnea needed no further prompting. With a quick glance around at the other passengers, she stretched up to his throat and latched on to him. Milo bent his head down and spread out her hair to hide her from watchful eyes. It appeared to the others that she slept with her face buried in his neck when it truth, her fangs dipped into his vein and drew forth from him all that he had taken from the young woman in the restroom and then some. As the plane lifted its nose into the air, she drew harder on his throat, moaning enough to tickle him with her lips. He grew weaker, his hands and feet plunged into a snowdrift and his arms no longer held her close to him for they lay useless in his lap, appendages without feeling, without life. The other passengers seemed so far away, silent forms in an old black and white movie. Helpless to stop her, Linnea drained him. He felt death awaiting him after so many centuries, a long wait for an impatient creature. He could barely see him through the soupy gray fog as Lachlan turned around in the seat, but Milo saw the look of utter horror on Lachlan's kind face—before he saw nothing more.

Twenty-One "I imagine it will be difficult to find her. Florida is a big state.” Colin's ignorance surprised Lachlan and he snorted, an unbecoming behavior for one so noble. "It will not be difficult, Colin. In fact, it will be quite easy to find her since she has been broadcasting the call for a while now. It returned as if someone flipped the ‘on’ switch to her pheromones.” Lachlan glanced at Colin and didn't see the concern he expected. He cleared his throat and started to explain further when a horrible sensation crept into his psyche. Fear! Fear of death! So often he tuned out the thoughts of others but this one shot through his mind, a burning distress that couldn't be ignored. Hearing the muffled struggle behind him he turned in his seat and felt his mouth drop open. Milo slumped, ashen faced and unaware, with Linnea locked to his torn throat, a beautiful ethereal succubus bent on draining the life from her prey. Horror stricken, Ben pulled on her hair trying to dislodge her, but Lachlan knew he didn't use all his force for fear of hurting her, or more probably, angering her. He twisted her hair around his fist and pulled again. Glancing around the plane, he noticed Lachlan watching and the tiny worry lines at the corners of his eyes vanished. Ben stared at him, mouthing the words with exaggerated lip movements, “Do something, please.” Lachlan could not approach without attracting the attention of the numerous human passengers so he did all that he could under the circumstances. Focusing all his concentration on Linnea, he used his latent mental power to restrict the blood flow to her head. She moaned and shook her head, then she fainted and fell away from Milo's neck to bounce in his lap. Ben dropped his fistful of Linnea's thick black hair and stared at it as if he expected the tresses to hiss at him and wrap around his body like a boa constrictor. "Not to worry, he will be fine.” Lachlan's voice resounded in Ben's mind. “He is very strong." Lachlan noted the disbelief on Benjamin's face, but to the young one's credit, he kept his thoughts to himself. "What is it?” asked Colin, at his side. Lachlan heard the sharp intake of breath, and knew without looking that Colin had already answered his own question by turning around in his seat to see Milo. Sudden explosive rage sucked the air from the plane and ignited it so that every inhalation burned his lungs. Lachlan twisted in his seat and placed his firm hand on Colin's knee, squeezing hard enough to gain Colin's undivided attention. "Calm yourself this instant. Everything is under control,” he hissed under his breath as he increased the pressure on Colin's knee. The kneecap moved with a dull pop and Colin winced, his fury abating as the pain increased in his leg and his consideration turned to Lachlan. "Let go, you barbarian.” Colin ground his teeth together, his words barely audible through his clenched jaws. The ‘fasten seatbelts’ light went off and Lachlan released Colin's knee to slide from his seat and stand at Milo's side. He nodded to Ben and he understood the unspoken message. Ben placed a gentle hand on each of Linnea's shoulders, lifted her to a sitting position and leaned her limp body against the back of her seat. She sighed, a faint breath that stirred the dark hair hanging across her face but she did not awaken. At Lachlan's chuckle, Ben and Colin both looked to see the reason for the bit of merriment. Not hard to see what amused Lachlan so. Where Linnea's head rested moments before in Milo's lap, a very noticeable bulge remained. It appeared that he had more blood left in him than it first appeared. A slow smile spread across Milo's face, his colorless lips stretched wide despite his dehydration. "Milo, you are incorrigible,” said Lachlan as he cuffed him, a mere tap on the side of his head. Lachlan placed his wide bulk in the aisle beside Milo, blocking the other passengers’ view, and then he bent to whisper into Milo's ear. "You should retrieve some of what you lost while she sleeps. And do it quickly before the other passengers notice your, um— unhealthy complexion.” Milo gazed up at him, one eyebrow cocked and the other crinkled into a red-gold smear atop his eye as he looked from Lachlan to the surrounding passengers and back again to Lachlan's face. "Go ahead, don't be shy, kiss her as she did you.” Lachlan bobbed his head at Linnea's sleeping form and glanced away, lifting his hand to twist a few loose strands of his flowing white beard between his fingers.

Milo grinned as he watched Lachlan's fingers, amused at the semblance of nonchalance that his self-appointed mentor tried to portray. Then with a tender nudge he pushed Lachlan's brawny face away from him and turned in his seat to gaze upon the sleeping beauty beside him. Despite her unconscious state, her skin glowed with vitality, the rosy tint to her cheeks testament to the bravado she stole from his veins. Yes, he offered it freely, but only as a distraction! How could he know that she would attempt to drain him dry? Women! The pulse throbbing just beneath the tantalizing soft skin of her throat called to him, the siren's song. That pulse, calling him to his death and perhaps he, like Odysseus, should lash himself to his seat, to save his very life. But it would not be his death after all. Milo licked his lips, feeling the lethal, razor sharp teeth scrape across his tongue as his primitive instincts kicked in and he prepared to feast on the bounty before him. **** Chaos opened her eyes to the pale glow trickling through the glass doors, a whisper of warmth on her cheek. Dawn! She rolled off the couch and fell to her hands and knees on the carpet, lifting her face to the meager sunlight, and stretching her stiff muscles as she gained her feet. She had to see the sun rise over the ocean! Sliding the glass doors open, CJ slipped through and skipped down the sidewalk to the dunes. Bypassing the wooden steps, she jumped to the short bridge crossing the dunes and stopped, her breath stuck in her throat as she absorbed the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean. She expected to see a vibrant blue as the sun crested the horizon, but instead, a bouquet of fractured colors sprouted from the water and burst into prisms of dazzling light, reflecting everywhere at once. So many colors, spreading like wild flowers in every shade she could imagine, and some she didn't know existed. Chaos found it impossible to breathe, impossible to watch, but even more impossible to look away. Then, just as quickly as the dizzying array appeared, it vanished, and the blue she expected to see replaced the veritable rainbow, and it continued—forever. She imagined an enormous waterfall spanning for thousands of miles as the ocean flowed off the edge of the planet. Of course she knew her geography, but still it seemed that way as she gazed out at a sea as mysterious and fathomless to her as the depths of that same ocean. The horrors of last night dimmed in the face of nature's splendor, revealed to her with the sun's blessing. Her scrape with the shark last night, a faded photograph, tucked away in a dresser drawer, and the pain all but forgotten, with the exception of losing Charles. That pain, she would carry with her for a very long time. A platoon of gangly pelicans flew overhead and followed the coastline in their loose formation. One of the large birds tucked his wings and pointed his enormous beak toward the water. Like a spear thrown from the heavens, he dove straight into the ocean to seek out his breakfast. CJ lived her entire life inland and to see such a sight, kept her full attention. She wanted to applaud when the other pelicans also tucked their wings and drove their bodies into the water with a forceful splash. Suddenly a mighty hand clamped over her mouth, and at the same time something jerked her off her feet into a tight embrace. 'Don't fight me little girl. With you, I'll gain my position as a real blood seeker. No more being a simple vampire's minion.” His breath stank of cigarettes and bitter coffee. She knew he was not one of her kind and she could defeat him. CJ struggled, trying to scream behind the fingers that choked off her breath. She kicked back and connected with flesh and bone. This time, she would not go without a fight and fight she did, with every ounce of strength she possessed. She squirmed, she kicked, she tried to bite the hand covering her mouth and she shoved her elbows back with all her might. Her captor dropped her off the small bridge and she fell down to the warm sand below. As soon as her feet touched the sand, she ran toward the water and the nut-brown, leather-skinned old man walking through the surf. "Help!” She screamed but he couldn't hear her voice over the tumbling waves. "Help! Help me!” She screamed again as she ran closer, and this time the old man looked up in surprise. His eyes grew wider as he stared back at her, watching her stumble and heave her body toward him. He caught her with a strong grip, for such spindly fingers. Holding her upper arms he stood her away from him to squint down at her, questions plain on his wrinkled face. CJ twisted her head around to glance behind her, terror mounting, but no one chased her!

"Are you okay, young lady?” His voice sounded as sandy as the beach he seemed to love, his dark skin an indication of his time spent near the water. She turned back to him, still panting from her dash across the sand. This man, although as much a stranger to her as the one who grabbed her, seemed as formidable as Santa Claus, and he had the long white beard for that role too. He still held her arms, watching her face, waiting for her to perhaps answer his question. She shook herself, warding off an imaginary chill and pulled away, relieved when the old man dropped his hands to his side. "Sorry.” CJ mumbled as she looked down at the sand and the old man's bare feet. “I thought someone was following me.” Turning her head back toward the little bridge, she saw nothing but a few ragged palm trees and many sprawling, alien-looking plants. "Go back inside, Missy.” He grumbled to himself and walked away without a backward glance at her, leaving her standing near the water's edge—alone again. Not much of a savior, that old man, but she felt bereft without him. In his own little world, she meant nothing to him and even if she screamed again, she doubted he would so much as turn his head. CJ didn't know what to do. If she went back to the condo, she had to walk across the bridge where her would-be abductor tried to grab her. He must not wish to enter the open beach where he could be seen from any window. She knew she could avoid him here by the water, but if she stayed not only would she get sunburned. but also she had no protection at all. At least in the condo she had walls, doors and a telephone. Not a soul graced the water's edge in either direction, other than her reluctant savior of a moment's past. The old man made his way toward a building not far from the condo she possessed the key for. Looking back at the condos, she considered banging on doors, but she had no way of knowing whom to trust. It seemed that everyone wanted to kidnap her, everyone had their own agenda. The attacker from the bridge could be hiding in the very next condo! Boy her dad would be upset when she told him that Linnea spoke the truth about the others hunting her down. Damn, why couldn't these freaks just leave her the heck alone? CJ edged her way back to the dunes and the bridge to cross over that sandy berm. The warm sand on her feet distracted her for a moment and she looked down to see sprinkles of multi-colored grains stuck to her damp toes. She never noticed how many different colors made up the sand. CJ always pictured the beach as being an endless stretch of desert tan but these grains sparkled with black, gray, tan, brown, and a few milky quartz specks mixed in. Lovely, this seashore, it would really be nice to share this place with her family. Thoughts of her family brought the anxiety rushing back into her system, the fear charging through her veins with more relentless power than the waves crashing onto the shoreline behind her. Never before had CJ been so alone in the world. Her mother and father protected her and even the others seemed to hover nearby with a sense of purpose that she understood now. That childish innocence vanished days ago. CJ wished with all her soul that she could go back to that carefree time, when all she had to worry about, the only thing to cause her grief—her father's foul moods! She heard his voice slithering through her mind—scolding her for running off without an escort. Warning her that he made his way, even now, to her side and the consequences for her actions would be severe. As if! What she wouldn't give to hear his loving words again. She had to try his cell phone again and that meant going back to the condo. Her eyes darted to the many doors facing the ocean and the ones between her and the room. Chaos drew in a deep breath, held it, and sprinted across the narrow bridge toward the sidewalk and the relative safety of the building. Stumbling, CJ scraped her toes on the concrete sidewalk and fell in an awkward heap. The door by her side flew open. She gasped as she caught a glimpse of a startled man's face, the outline of Joanna's head floating behind him, then the door slammed shut. "What the heck?” The unmistakable sound of her mother's mischievous laughter drifted around the building on the warm ocean breeze. Again the door opened and slammed shut and yet again the same thing. She heard muffled profanity through the condo wall and once more, Joanna laughing. CJ climbed to her feet, spinning around, expecting to see her Mom's grinning face—but no one there.

In fact, at that moment, it seemed that even the wind ceased to exist. She heard nothing but her own heart beat thundering in her ears. Then, even that noise disappeared as she saw the faint movement of that same door as it creaked open one more time. Long fingers appeared on the edge of the doorframe, one by one just touching the faded blue trim. In an instant, the door slammed again, harder this time than it had before and this bang echoed off the other side of the U shaped building and back to her, almost muffling the horrible masculine scream. With horror, CJ saw four severed fingertips fall to the ground. She wanted to help this poor soul, but a cool breeze stirred the warm humid air around her, lifting her hair from her shoulders in an airy caress. Coconuts and tropical fruit, her mother's favorite scent, entwined with that cool breeze, and she spun about first one way then the other, looking for her mother. Again, no one there. "Mom!” Her voice cracked as she called out but her mournful cry seemed to vanish as soon as the sound left her lips, swallowed by the merciless wind. "Mom? Are you there?” In answer, the frigid current of air increased to push her down the sidewalk and she turned to trot towards the end of the building. As soon as she rounded the building the bluster died down, and with a last flip of her hair it disappeared. Goosebumps traveled down her arms, an invasion of tiny sentinels standing out on her rosy skin, and her hands shook as she fumbled with the deadbolt. Finally, the key turned and the door swung open. CJ stretched her foot to the doorstep, but instead of entering the condo she spun about to look behind her. No one there, but she felt eyes upon her! Someone watched, that she knew and she couldn't shake the sense of unwanted company. With a gasp she turned on her heel and ran into the condo, slamming the door behind her, and turning both locks with trembling awkward fingers. Her legs felt like petrified tree trunks as she plodded down the lengthening hallway, fear and loneliness weighing her down so that she collapsed at the edge of the carpet and covered her head with her arms. CJ sobbed, her gut convulsing with every sorrowful moan. No reason to go on, nothing to make her get off this floor, no reason to dry her tears, no one to hold her close and soothe the hurt. For hours it seemed she remained there, motionless but for the heaving of her back with each dreadful sob. The silence closed in, suffocating her, accenting her terrible cries. Must stop! She couldn't stand to listen to herself. Using an inner power that she didn't know she possessed, she quieted and smashed her face into the carpet, wiping her wet cheeks and nose on the coarse fibers. With a thunderous crunch the wooden door splintered out of the frame and flew down the hallway, bouncing off the wall and hitting her in the back hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. Stunned, CJ could do no more than lie there with her mouth agape, fighting to draw air. A figure entered the condo, walking with an exaggerated slow pace down the hall, closer and closer to her. She tried to glance up without lifting her head, but could only see up to his waist. Yes, a male, if the slight bulge in the trousers meant anything. Then, with a sickening sense of doom, she noticed his right hand. The tips of his fingers were missing from his hand, and the remaining stumps dripped dark blood onto the pale carpet beside her head.

Twenty-Two "Stop your sniveling.” Not an inkling of humanity in that voice. No character inflections, nothing but a monotone command. "Get up,” he demanded as he lifted the door and tossed it across the room. CJ ignored his order. Maybe if she played dead... "Get up now.” He reached for her, wrapping her long hair around his good hand to use it as a lasso in pulling her to her feet. She bit her lip rather than cry out in pain as he ripped dozens of hairs from her scalp. He dropped her hair and stood watching her, his leering eyes roving up and down her body. He must've liked his new acquisition because he smiled, a casual lifting at the corners of his taut cruel mouth, and shifted his gaze to her face. That wicked excuse for a smile didn't reach those cold dead orbs. Blue, yes, but not the pleasant joy filled blue she cherished so in Ben's eyes. No, these icy, insipid blue marbles could not even be called eyes since they showed no soul behind them, nothing but pale blue glass, with tiny pinpoints of black in the center. CJ hated this being, and she let it show on her face with a sneer of her own. In a heartbeat his grin vanished, and his thin lips pressed together as a large purplish vein popped out on his temple. The blow to her head took her by surprise and she stumbled sideways, but gained her footing without falling to the floor. She never saw his hand move! She covered her throbbing ear with her palm and glared at him, still refusing to remove the hatred she wore stamped in her features. "Does hitting a mere girl make you feel like more of a man?” She spat at him as she shuffled backwards, widening the space between them. CJ fully expected another cuff to the head, but instead he just watched her as she backed into the far wall. As if he just realized the injury to his hand, he lifted the mangled fingers to his mouth and licked the blood from each one. He never dropped his gaze from her face, as he slid his tongue from one stubby digit to the next. CJ felt sick. "You know, little girl, I've lost, well, quite a lot already in my pursuit of you. Do you not feel any pity for me? Do you possess no feminine instincts that scream for you to help me with my various wounds?" She didn't answer, wouldn't answer. To hell with his wounds. As if he knew exactly what she thought, he scowled, drawing his bushy platinum blonde eyebrows together into one long white uni-brow, and took a step toward her, laughing when she tried to back away and could go no further. "Are you worried that I may hurt you?” His evil voice a husky whisper. “You should worry.” He crooned as he advanced upon her. “Mmm, I love to torture women, but those weak human women die too soon.” He stopped to rest his chin on his uninjured hand as if to think over what he wanted to say. "You, however, will last a long time...” His words trailed off and he licked his lips, stepping toward her again, his arms raised. CJ prepared to flee, but the oddest look passed over the attacker's face. His mouth dropped open, his brows lifted in surprise and he clutched his chest for a moment and took his hands away to see that blood covered both palms. CJ saw the reason when he dropped his arms. A split piece of blue painted wood protruded from his chest. "Uh...” He moaned and fell to his knees as he tried to push the slice of wood back through his chest and out his back. He never got the chance. Hands wrapped around his head and twisted hard to the right. She heard the snap of the vertebrae as his neck broke in two. The lifeless body fell to the side and CJ screamed. "Lachlan!" There he stood, in magnificent glory, his white beard and hair all askew as if he traveled through a maelstrom to reach her. He opened his arms and she poured herself into his embrace, never once thinking of her previous abhorrence. She enveloped his stout

shoulders, fingers twined in his hair and then she lifted her eyes and saw another figure enter the condo, a tall dark entity that blasted her heart into a runaway crescendo. CJ squealed at the top of her lungs, her piercing, shrill scream careening off the walls as if they were made of polished tin. Lachlan grimaced, setting her quivering body down, a meaty hand still on each side of her waist. Chaos paid no attention to the pain she'd inflicted, wiggled out of Lachlan's hands, and ran to throw herself at her father. Colin scooped her up and held her so tight against his chest that she began to gasp for air. His arms, powerful things, forged of metal that held her to him with all the love any being could feel for another and then some. She never wanted to leave his embrace but the need for air grew more urgent with each tiny struggle for breath. "Dad,” she gasped. "Yes, Munchkin, I am here,” His soft soothing baritone vibrated through her body and comforted her weary bones, but still-no air to fill her lungs. "Dad—can't breathe." "Colin!” Lachlan barked. “The child can't draw breath, let her go." "Whaa...” Colin looked back at Lachlan, confused for a moment but then he glanced down at CJ's face. "Oh!” He released her and she slid down his body to stand before him. CJ coughed and drew in huge gulps of air, but the grin never left her face. She rested her hand on Colin's extended arm and soaked in the splendorous sight of her father's handsome visage. But she realized that something bothered him, even though he tried to hide it. She saw it there in his eyes. Her smile vanished. "Where's Mom?” Her strangled voice barely made it out of her throat. Her eyes flew to the hallway when another figure entered the condo. Linnea, followed by the huge redhead, Milo and then Ben walked in, his head down as he refused to meet her plaintive gaze. She knew that her Mom would not be arriving, not now, not ever. Tears slid down her face, silent like her shriveling heart. No she wouldn't accept this! It could not be true. "Where is Mom?” She watched as Linnea looked to Colin and then at her. Honeyed eyes, soft with pity, met hers. She padded over to stand in front of Chaos and took her hand. "We are sorry, little one..." "No!” CJ screamed. "Your mom did not make it, Chaos.” Linnea tried to soothe her. “But Joanna's spirit remains. We have seen her and felt her presence." CJ gasped, her eyes wide, as she heard the words that she didn't ever want to hear and then some that made it a little better. She knew she also had been visited but it didn't help the terrible pain, the anger at losing her mother. "How did it happen?” She choked on her speech, her tongue a dried up length of beef jerky that scratched the roof of her mouth. Despite her efforts to appear mature and in control of herself, CJ broke into terrible sobs, falling to her knees as her legs failed to hold her upright. Colin pushed Linnea aside with a gentle touch on her shoulder, then knelt in front of CJ to gather her in his arms. "Oh boo hoo. Let's have a pity party.” The stranger mocked them as he entered the room holding what looked like a cast off from a past war—a squared off automatic weapon. The startled group turned to face the intruder, just in time to see his head explode with a hideous wet smack that sprayed gore in a wide circle around the room. Colin ducked as something whistled by his ear, just

missing his face. He glanced back to see a wooden shorebird half-buried and vibrating in the drywall behind the sofa. "What the...” His voice stalled as the intruder's headless body started to fall forward in slow motion, toward the stained carpet. Ben stood immobile behind the body, his chest heaving. In his hands, a bloody wooden post that Colin recognized as part of the beach inspired artwork decorating the condo. The small bird sculpture now sticking out of the wall had once stood on top of that post, frozen in a semblance of shorebird serenity. They gawked at Ben, too amazed or shocked to speak. His quick action saved them all a lot of pain and grief. The force he used to deliver that blow far surpassed anything the young one had ever displayed. Colin noticed a new respect in everyone's eyes, and his own admiration for Ben reflected there as well. Colin would never think of him as a neophyte again, and he dared anyone else to. "Uh, Ben...” Linnea started to speak but her voice drifted off and she fell silent. Milo started to clap Ben on his shoulder but he hesitated with his hand poised, then let his arm fall back to his side. The tension rose in the condo. Seconds stretched into long minutes. No one saying a word, no one moving a muscle. Eyes darted back and forth as they glanced at each other, looking for a cue, some hint as to the proper way to react to such an explosion of brains and unforeseen strength. CJ moved closer to Colin, her body small as she tried to hide from the world, with her powerful father as a shield. "Dad can we please get out of here?” He wrapped his arms tight around her and lifted her as he stood. Hugging her close, he held her for a moment more, then answered. "Of course we can, munchkin.” He looked up, meeting Ben's steady gaze, and continued. “I would like to see the stars reflected in the still waters of the sea." Ben let the blood-spattered post drop from his hands as he lowered his eyes to CJ. A smile touched his lips, his love for the child shining on his cherubic face. "I've never seen the ocean, Chaos. Would you show me?" "Nor I,” piped up Milo. The unspoken need to change the mood, distract CJ and each other, an urgent necessity now, with two dead bodies at their feet. Colin turned toward Lachlan, one arm around his daughter and with the other he motioned to the glass doors behind the aged blood seeker. Lachlan hesitated for a moment, staring at the door handle as if it may try to assassinate him. He looked back at the group, his eyes drifting from one face to the next. "Lachlan?” Linnea asked, her voice anxious. He blinked, shook his head, a tiny movement from one side to the other and let his head drop as he passed his tongue over dry lips. "None of you have a clue as to how fortunate you are. I am envious of the bond you seem to share. I wish with my entire soul to be a permanent part of this entourage." Linnea stepped over the bodies, careful to avoid the sticky carpet and stood at his side, taking his hand in hers. "You silly fool, you already are.” She smiled at him as she reached to slide the patio door wide. She pulled him through and watched his features as the salty breeze whipped his hair around his head. He didn't seem upset that she called him a fool and in fact, looked quite happy despite her slight insult. "You are part of our family now, Ancient One. You are stuck with us.” She walked with him along the narrow sidewalk to the

beach. Linnea laughed and dropped his hand to run away, her laughter trailing behind her, coaxing him to follow. Milo watched from the patio, trying his best to keep his jealously at bay. As Linnea disappeared over the dunes with Lachlan in close pursuit, he also followed, hesitant to intrude, but excited to see the ocean. Colin waited for Ben at the door, not wanting to leave him despite his recent show of strength. The young blonde stood there with the bodies between him and the sliding glass door, apparently not wanting to step over them, perhaps feeling undue guilt about their deaths. "Are you coming, Slugger?" Ben roared with laughter, Colin's comment the catalyst he needed to step away from his extraordinary deed and relax. He stared down at the mess he made of the trespasser's head and laughed even harder, his hands on his knees, supporting himself so that he didn't fall into the gore. Chaos chuckled at Ben's snorting as he tried to catch his breath in between guffaws. Her dad's chest also rumbled, tickling her back, as she pressed herself against him. Her spirits lifted and she felt safe for the first time in many days as they walked together to the shore. Colin watched the others as they cavorted in the sand. Blood seekers on the beach, an unprecedented event and one unlikely to ever occur again. Most of them had never seen the Atlantic Ocean, despite their long lives. He saw no reason to visit a place known for sunshine and he felt certain that the others felt the same way. Ben plopped down near the water with CJ hanging on his arm, laughing as she moved to pull his shoes and socks off. His halfhearted attempts to stop her making her giggle even harder. The other three centenarians watched their antics with grins on their shiny faces. Colin locked the tranquil scene away in his mind and crossed the sand to join them. Ben and CJ splashed each other, running into the water as it receded, then retreating from the waves as they rushed the shore. "Come into the water, Dad!” CJ shouted over the roar of the waves. He shook his head no, pulling at his new slacks to show her why. "Party Pooper,” said Milo, taunting him from the safety of Linnea's side. Colin started to answer him when a black streak flew up to Milo and tore him from his feet, sending him flying across the beach to land on his face at the edge of the water. He didn't get up, didn't move at all. Linnea doubled over, holding her stomach then falling to the sand as the attacker drew near to her. With sand flying and bodies flailing, the intruder met his match with Lachlan. The ancient blood seeker met each parry with one of his own as the two growled and fought with teeth and fists. Colin stared, trying to discern where one began and the other ended in the dervish of swirling bodies. CJ screamed and Colin's stomach convulsed with fear. He backed away from the fighters and ran toward CJ and Ben as they bolted from the water. He gathered his two most cherished love ones and held them in his embrace, wishing he could just disappear over the horizon with them in his arms. He knew without a doubt that if this attacker could move that quickly and take on Lachlan too, then he had no chance of stopping him. The fight between Lachlan and the other one continued long after one should have fallen dead. Blood darkened the sand cloud that surrounded them as they spun around each other. As quick as the fight started, it ended. Lachlan lay panting on the sand, his right arm pinned beneath him, and his left bent at an awkward angle behind his back. The victor stared down at Lachlan, then turned in slow motion to face the trembling trio. "Daddy...” CJ's pitiful cry tore his heart out before this beast could even approach them. Her thin arms squeezed him as he held on to her and Ben. Colin glared at the immense and very old blood seeker, a growl starting deep in his chest. He knew he stood no chance of winning, but he would die rather than allow this white haired giant to steal his daughter away.

"If you insist, foolish one. Death it will be. This woman child is mine. It is my right.” He advanced on them, dragging his bare feet across the beach, one plodding step after another. A glimmer of hope formed in Colin's chest as he saw Lachlan struggle to gain his feet. It shriveled and died the very next moment as the white one shouted over the wind. "Do not make me kill you, brother. You know that I can.” Lachlan fell back to the sand in a wounded heap. Invisible hands flung the trio apart, Colin and Ben flying in different directions to land yards away from Chaos. She screamed in terror as the white haired man's massive fingers closed on her arm and tugged her toward him. Colin crawled, shaking his head to clear it, then fought to gain his feet and give chase. He stumbled, the sand sucking at his feet, slowing his struggles, fighting him as surely as the blood seeker stealing his daughter. He managed to catch up, and plowed into the old one's back in an attempt to knock him down. Colin felt his collarbone crack as he smacked into that stocky body. With one arm the old one sent Colin flying again, this time out into the water. CJ screamed again and pulled against him, bruising her arm, but she still twisted and squirmed trying to escape his clutches. Her fight did little more than annoy him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet, carrying her kicking and screaming across the beach. Colin tried to catch his breath so he could give chase again. His feeble gasps failed to bring oxygen to his cloudy brain and he tottered at the edge of the water. Helpless to follow, he watched the stranger carry CJ away from him. The old one did more than just toss him away, he stole his senses away as well. "NUK!” A ferocious thunderclap in that feminine voice! Colin fell to his knees, but watched, incredulous, as the old one flinched. A woman approached, crossing the wooden bridge over the dunes, her stomping steps reverberating off the wood planks with deadly finality. "Nuk!” She spat at him, the anger dripping from that guttural utterance. Was that this old one's name? He released Chaos and she fell to the beach. He ignored her as she scrambled to her feet and ran, his attention centered now on the approaching tempest. "Beylon,” he soothed. She stalked up to him and poked her finger into his chest. "Fool! What do you think you are doing?” She poked him again, harder this time, and he did nothing! The woman, Beylon, stood a head shorter than Nuk and his bulk dwarfed her smaller frame. "What did I tell you?” she shouted. “What did I tell you would happen to you if you pursued this?” Nuk moved his hands to cover his groin. Lachlan chuckled, despite his obvious pain. Beylon glanced over at him and frowned, but she said nothing. Flipping her long hair over her shoulder, she turned away from Nuk. Every conscious being on the beach heard her next words as they cut through Nuk's withering soul. "Unless you wish to spend the rest of your days as a eunuch, you will forget this and come with me, NOW." Nuk jumped to join her, ignoring his defeated foes. CJ joined her father at the edge of the water, as far as he made it in his flailing pursuit. The others pulled themselves up, waves of pain spiking, then ebbing as Nuk's tremendous mental power faded and allowed them to revive. Like an army of revenants, they stumbled and moaned as they made their way to CJ and Colin. One by one, they fell to the sand at the water's edge. Bodies aching, but tranquil as the sea, they listened to the waves roll in. No one spoke as they enjoyed the serenity of the ocean together. No one complained about ruined clothing as the water covered their legs then retreated again. No one mentioned Nuk's terrible intrusion or the desperate war that hung like a heavy cloak over them all.

Chaos turned to look into her father's eyes and sighed. The resignation she saw there proved what she knew all along. "It is dangerous for you to be in my company,” she cried. “I have to leave you.” Her father flinched and looked away. Colin's head dropped to his knees, his sorrow evident in that dejected posture. "Cheer up Colin. You know we'll all help you,” said Linnea. Without lifting his head, Colin snorted. “Yes, well ... we did so very well today, did we not?" Lachlan jumped to his feet as if he had no previous injuries at all and turned to face the group. "We can all go to my arctic home!” He grinned, waiting as Colin lifted his head to meet his eyes. "It is desolate, my friend, and a veritable fortress. I believe the young siren will be safe there.” He glanced at CJ and saw the frown on her face, an expression far too mature for her young features. "What is it, pray tell?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, on the defensive before CJ could open her mouth to object. "Lachlan, you ancient idiot, you know there is nowhere that I can hide unless the call can be masked. Apparently, since everyone eventually made it here, I am unable to refrain from sending out this invisible sex beacon to every blood seeker on the planet.” Watching their faces, she lifted her hands, palms out. "No, don't argue with me. I know what I need to do. I heard my parents talking about it. Mom's call stopped when she was pregnant with me." CJ hopped to her feet, splashing Colin and Lachlan with seawater as she moved to stand in front of Ben. His mouth dropped open but he didn't resist as she grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. In stunned silence, they watched as CJ pulled Ben with her across the beach. He drug his feet through the sand, but CJ wouldn't let go of his arm. She stopped to whisper to him, trying to muffle her words and make them too soft for the group to hear. But, they heard nonetheless. Colin choked on his breath as he heard his daughter tell Ben that she wanted to mate with him. Ben whipped his head around, his rounded, alarmed eyes meeting Colin's. CJ would not have him escape and ruin her plans. She tugged hard on his arm and gasped when his eyes rolled back in his head and Ben fell like a stone, face first, into the shifting sand. "Get up Ben!” Her tugs on his arm grew frantic as she saw Colin jump to his feet and stomp over to her. "Chaos Janelle you are not mating with anyone. Do I make myself clear?” Flashing dark eyes met the same, a reflection of themselves there in the other's angry face. CJ dropped Ben's hand and turned her back on her father, walking away as he followed. They left Ben, still unconscious, but now safe from CJ's clutches. Milo turned away from the hilarious scene behind him. “So, Lachlan, do you have room enough for us all?" Still watching father and daughter as they argued and stomped down the beach, Lachlan grinned. "That I do, Milo. I have room enough for—my entire family." **** The End **** The Series will continue with:

Frozen in Blood The Story of the First Thirst

Visit www.lldreamspell.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.