Fortress

Praise for the writing of Flesa Black

Refuge 1: Fortress

From the moment her phantom lover walks out of the shadows to seduce Eve, I was mesmerized by this steamy tale of witches, vampires and werewolves waging a battle for Eve and her powers. A fabulous fantasy read set in a mystical Irish landscape. -- Saskia Walker, author of “The Strangeling” in Rites of Passion (Loose Id) Once again I've had my sleep put off by a great book. Fortress is a steamy thrill of a read that will keep you turning the pages to find out what all the secrets are and how it will resolve. Flesa Black has created a complex world of witches, lycans, and vampires that is also sensual. I'm looking forward to the next in this series already. -- Mechele Armstrong, author of Blood Kiss (Loose Id) Flesa Black has woven an irresistible modern-day gothic romance, complete with lovers who defy destiny for passion, intrigue that'll keep you guessing, and sex that'll sizzle on your screen. -- Raine Weaver, author of Incubus (Loose Id)

Fortress is an intriguing, delicious story which hooked me from the first page! It is full of stunning sensuality and red-hot passion. I’ve always liked angsty heroes, and never was there a more angsty hero than Alrik Rath, the sexy vampire who found his match in Evelina Griffin. I’m glad this book is the first in a series, as I’m hoping to read more about Alrik in the next books! -- Kai Andersen, author of Heart of the Woolf (coming soon from Loose Id)

REFUGE 1: FORTRESS

Flesa Black

www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

***** This book is rated:

For explicit sexual content and graphic language.

Refuge 1: Fortress Flesa Black This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © November 2005 by Flesa Black Excerpt of Cup of Revelation copyright September 2005 by Silvia Violet All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 1-59632-025-7 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Sherri Lynne Cover Artist: April Martinez

Dedication Dedicated to my husband, who understands when my mind drifts into a different universe. To Marisol, a great soundingboard and idea woman; to April, who showed me how well a castle could be put to use; and to Karma and the BL ladies, who let me practice my writing on them for years.

Chapter One

Evelina stood in the cool stone room of the castle turret, staring at the intricate reds, burgundies, and blues of the stained glass that covered the one long window in her bedroom. It should have been raining, she thought. Lightning should have been streaking across the sky. The wind should have been a wicked howl across the hills of Ireland. Instead, it was a calm, almost soothing late June evening. The moon was bright and almost half full; the sky danced with millions of faceted stars; and the night jasmine had opened to release its deep, heady scent. And she was alone. Sighing, she brushed her long honey-brown hair over her shoulder and wandered to her king-sized bed. For a moment she toyed with the gauzy white curtains that surrounded the large mattress, while her mind flooded with sadness. She was stuck here in the middle of nowhere by herself, save for her grandfather’s servants. Servants -- it was such a medieval term, and yet somehow it seemed to fit. They were much too loyal to be mere employees, and the great Abram Griffin was much too protective to simply be considered their employer. From her earliest memories to now, it had always been that way. She had been just a young child when her parents had died; her grandfather had happily taken her in, ensconcing her in the family’s castle in the lush hills of Ireland. She had played in the rooms, run up and down the massive staircase countless times, slid down the mahogany banister, made up stories about her ancestors who were caught, frozen forever, in the oil paintings that adorned almost every wall. She had also played in the nearby woods with the children of the small village, creating gruesome tales of fire-breathing dragons and damsels in distress. She’d always preferred to be the brave warrior slaying the monsters, rather than being the helpless victim, much to the amusement of her grandfather. It had been a fanciful childhood, one filled with plenty of laughter and hugs and kisses.

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When she’d turned six, she’d been sent to an exclusive all-girls boarding school ... and she’d been stuck in the cycle of school and home for nineteen years. Even when she’d gone to college, she had attended an all-girls institution, one that was very private and very strict. A part of her had wanted to be rebellious, had wanted to fight back by going to an open, co-ed college where the rules were lax and there were parties every night. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it, not when she’d understood in her heart why her grandfather had needed the assurance that carefully monitored all-girl schools gave him. After all, she was his only living relative; he loved her without bounds, and he wanted her to be safe. And Eve cared for him deeply, too, which was why she hadn’t denied him those years when he was paying for her education. But now she was a college graduate with her master’s degree, and at twenty-five years old, she was almost frenetic to experience her own life. When she’d come back here for the summer, she’d intended to tell her grandfather that she was moving to Dublin or London, depending on what job she could snag with her history degree. Those plans, though, had been put on hold when she’d been told Abram wouldn’t be joining her for another few weeks. She could have easily left the estate and spent this time in a noisy city or in a cottage by the ocean; instead, for some unknown reason, she’d felt the need to stay and wait for grandfather even though she would be alone, again, in the monster of a castle that she called home. She was so lonely, she lamented silently, cringing when she realized she sounded like a child. She didn’t normally have such self-indulgent thoughts; it was just that she wanted so desperately to be away from here, to be around other human beings who weren’t bound to her because of their involvement with Abram Griffin. But every time she tried to walk through the huge iron gates of the estate to make her way to the small town just down the road, she was compelled to come back, to turn away from the path beyond. That had certainly never happened to her before, but she supposed that since she’d made up her mind to leave her grandfather behind, there was a small, perverse part of her that wanted to stay close to the keep, to absorb more memories before she left. Her actions caused her to question her decision over and over again, making her nearly insane with the loop of insecurity that played in her head. In the past week, Eve had found herself carrying on one-way conversations about her need for independence, but, of course, there had only been the hollow echo of her arguments for answers. She felt like a drifting leaf being blown from one end of the wood to the other, with no one to catch her in between. She wasn’t usually a woman who felt the driving need to be coddled or put on a tall pedestal, but tonight her thoughts were causing a kind of wild yearning for both physical and emotional attention. Her mind and body fairly burned with the need for someone to talk with, someone to laugh with, and someone who would understand her desire for intimate companionship. There was something inside of her that was keening to be comforted, a part of her that wanted to feel need and be needed in return. She wanted human contact, but

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more than that, she needed the attention of a man. While it was true she’d had sex before, she’d never experienced truly being made love to, which left an empty feeling inside of her that she was afraid would never be filled. Having gone to all-girls schools her entire life, Eve had been denied any kind of meaningful relationship with boys. When they’d first felt the stirrings of womanhood, the girls had experimented with their own bodies and then, as they’d gotten older, with the bodies of their friends. They’d learned how to touch each other, how to be caressed, how to raise the need inside of themselves. There were the dances, of course, when the young men were bused in from the neighboring all-boys academy. But those social gatherings left very little opportunity for anything other than quick, unsatisfying tumbles in convenient corners. Her summers here at Griffin Keep had definitely never produced anything other than a few sessions of heavy petting that had been stopped short because, unfortunately for her, everyone knew and respected her grandfather. Those forays into shaky sexual territory, however interesting and titillating, had left more questions than answers about what sex and relationships were really supposed to be about. And so she and her friends had continued their own discovery about the boundaries and desires of their bodies, sometimes with the other girls even going so far as to describe their very vivid dreams about handsome men and how the fantasies affected them. Eve had never shared her dreams, instead keeping them quietly and securely tucked inside. She had always somehow felt that to tell anyone else about the man she dreamed of when she touched herself would somehow spoil the fantasy. She could still picture him as she always did, tall and strong, his body hard-muscled and lean. His lips would be shockingly tender, his hands broad and slightly rough, his hair thick and, because she liked the color, black as coal. He would give her everything she wanted before she could ask, his tongue, fingers, and teeth playing her body in a way she’d never known. The idea of her mystery man made her blood warm and hum in hot currents, causing her nipples to harden and peak beneath the soft silk of her thin white nightgown. The feeling of her sensitive nubs rubbing against the material only heightened her sudden sexual need. Whenever she thought of the nameless man doing unspeakably erotic things to her, she became nothing more than a quivering tangle of nerves and lust. She was now, as she always had been, a slave to the desires that her fantasy man created. Since there was no one near who could or would satisfy the craving that her body was now filled with, she knew that she would have to rely on the skills she’d learned as a teenager and a young woman. With a soft groan, she fell back onto her bed, her legs drawing up as her knees fell apart, separating the curtains and allowing a cool breeze to tickle her flushed skin. She licked her lips, already anticipating what she would do, was compelled to do, to herself. With a soft, determined hand, she gently palmed her own breast and began to knead it, squeezing the sensitive flesh as her hips wiggled seductively against the crisp, brushedblue cotton of her sheets. In a practiced move, she lifted her fingers to her mouth and sucked on them for a moment, wetting them with a hot tongue. Lowering her hand, she carefully

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pushed the plunging neckline away from her left breast and brought her sopping fingers to the erect nipple, sucking in her breath as the pads brushed the straining flesh. With a soft sigh, she began to flick the hardened peaks, quickly, then slowly, hissing and gasping as her blood boiled and her thighs moistened from her own desire. She tugged gently on her nipple, her voice hitching as her head fell back in growing, clawing lust. Her free hand skimmed down her side and over her hip sensually, finally descending down to the flimsy material of her silky white panties. Slowly, teasingly, she slid her hand inside the barrier, curling the tips of her fingers in the short, crisp curls. She let the warm, liquefying feeling linger, felt her clit vibrating and pulsing, almost painfully, as it waited impatiently for her skillful touch. Finally, she flicked her nipple and glided her middle finger over the raised nub. She let out a low, thick growl as tiny explosions ripped through her tingling body. Biting her lower lip, she slid over her clit again, this time with more insistence, then again in a quicker, practiced motion. She writhed under her own arms, reaching for the orgasm she was building inside herself even as she forced her movements to slow. Sliding her hand further down, she pushed a finger inside of herself, reveling in the slick, scalding feel of the flesh that surrounded her. Determined to bring herself more pleasure, she maneuvered another finger inside, wiggling them as she caressed her swollen inner flesh. Her body kinked and bowed, her skin beginning to sweat as her body climbed and scrambled for the release it knew would be shattering. He watched her from the shadows, his eyes glowing bright as he took in the erotic show she was providing. Against his will, he felt himself grow unbearably hard against his black jeans, the zipper close to excruciating as it bit into his large erection. After so many years spent on earth, he had learned exquisite control over his baser instincts, and yet somehow the woman touching herself on the bed continued to rip that restraint into jagged pieces. He’d seen her do this several times before; it was almost like clockwork for the beguiling Eve Griffin. It was as if her body could only stand no more than forty-eight hours before it demanded satisfaction. She’d always been behind those gauzy curtains before now, even though they were a poor excuse for covering. Each time she touched herself, he could still see her outline through them, hear her purrs and gasps, smell her sex and her sweat; it was something he hadn’t counted on when he’d promised Abram he’d protect her. Just as he hadn’t expected this wrenching desire she so easily elicited, without even being aware she was doing it. She was a gorgeous creature, all luscious curves and richly textured tresses ... and now he could see that even her mound was covered with that same silky hair. She was round in all the right places, unlike the tiny, too-frail women who graced the fashion magazines and

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runways. She wasn’t large, by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t a twig, either. She was perfect ... and therein lay the problem. She sucked in a quick breath, and he watched as she brought her attention back to her clit. He ground his teeth together, felt his body quake at the sight she presented, heard the thick, quick beating of her heart and the glutinous swishing of the blood rushing through her veins. He felt the hot push of his change bearing down on him and checked himself, dragging that animalistic part back under control with rigid will. She had bewitched him with her activities, and she had no idea that she’d done it. If it had been a planned seduction, it couldn’t have been more effective. But she had no idea she had a visitor, no idea at all ... and still that didn’t stop his crotch from throbbing with denied release. With a quiet snarl he opened his jeans, letting his long, thick flesh spring free. He heard her moan again, saw her pluck at her nipple, and was helpless as he mindlessly took his sex into his hand. He moved with her, rubbing his flesh as she rubbed hers, pushing himself up even as her thighs trembled and her fingers worked faster, plunging in and out of her soft, moist lips before returning to the point of her ecstasy. He worked harder, quicker, desperate to attain his own blistering orgasm as she found hers. Then she was howling and chanting, her toes pointed, her back curved and strained, her voice high as it ricocheted off the walls. He smelled her scent grow amazingly, enticingly, stronger; the sight of her orgasm, the aroma of it, the sound of it shoved him with a vicious force over the edge. His head jerked back, and the chords of his neck stood out in harsh lines as he swallowed his own scream. With a final pull, he spilled over his knuckles, the liquid hot and sticky as it coated his skin. He stood perfectly still for several minutes, forcing his breathing to even out as he listened to her low, sweet purrs of satisfaction. With a heavy sigh, he tucked himself back into his pants and leaned against the wall of the hidden passage, glad that he had the cold stones of the corridor for support. He shouldn’t have watched her; he shouldn’t have allowed himself the weakness of sexual indulgence, not when he’d been charged with such an important task. She had to be watched and protected, or else the world as he and every other creature knew it would be completely and irreversibly changed. But, God, he’d wanted her. He’d wanted to walk into her room, gently push her hands away, and take over the pleasuring of Eve. He’d wanted to slam inside of her, ride her until she cried with orgasm after orgasm, then slip down her body to taste the hot, sweet, pungent wetness of her body. No, no, damn it! He would be a complete bastard to do that to her. She didn’t know. She had no idea, and using her like that would do nothing to help her. She was special, sacred, and he was -- well, he was the damned. As much as he might have tried to be on the

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good side of the soulless and lost, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that it would make up for what he was. With one last heaved breath, he stood back up and let his gaze sweep over the elegant bedroom. Eve had extinguished the dim light of her bedside Tiffany lamp, but he could still see her clearly through the darkness. He gave himself a moment to absorb her thoughts, felt as she eased toward the land of dreams. When he was certain she was buried deep in sleep, he moved his point of concentration and shifted smoothly into the in-between, dancing with the shadows as he eased through the stone wall. Once he was on the other side, he let his concentration slip and neatly slid back into flesh and bone. He felt the draw toward the slumbering woman, the damning pull that always seemed to be there, the one he’d experienced since the day she’d come home. Stealthily, he eased further into the room, staying utterly quiet as he glided across the heavy wood floor toward her large bed. She was curled on her side, one hand under her pillow, the other lightly grasping the underside of the sheet that was pulled to her stubbornly set chin. With a hard blue gaze he stared down at Eve, took in the curve of her face, the lushness of her lips, the play of her large eyes underneath thin lids. “Rest well, Evelina Griffin,” he whispered. Softly, he laid his fingertips against her temple and let his thoughts soothe hers. “No nightmares tonight, Veneficus, only dream of fairies and faraway lands.” He stared at her a moment longer, his touch lingering as he studied her delicate, striking face.

Move, Rath, his inner voice warned him. Move, for Christ’s sake, or you’re going to get yourself into a bad situation. With a short, vicious growl, he pulled his hand away and turned from the bed, drifting back into the blackened corner and the soft leather reading chair he’d occupied every night for the past three weeks. She would be safe; he would keep his promise -- no matter how much he wanted a taste of her. Her mind free-floated into the mist of dreams, the swirling fog of graceful colors drawing her under with warm, enticing waves. Suddenly she found herself standing in bright, cool grass, surrounded by towering trees that swayed and sang in the breeze. Her thin nightgown rippled in the wind; her loose hair tangled around her bare shoulders as her pinktipped toes played across the wet blades underneath the soles of her feet. Images came, those of laughing, ethereal women and men, their bodies willowy and covered with soft, gauzy clothing. Their faces were flawless and bright, their dainty feet bare as they danced and twirled. The sound of lively, happy music came from lutes, recorders, and drums, surrounding them with joyous, unseen noise. The group of beautiful beings held out their hands as they spun by her one by one, inviting her into the gathering crowd, motioning for

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her to join the celebration. She moved toward them, her laughter bubbling up to join theirs. As she reached the jovial circle, something snapped her back and away, dragging her so quickly from the vibrant revelers that her mind reeled with the shock of it. When her dream cleared again, she realized she stood on the precipice of a tall cliff with water pounding beneath her as the ocean breathed in and out. Something was behind her, something broad, something dark, something that overwhelmed the rest of her world. It beckoned to her, asking her to move, but she couldn’t ... she was too terrified. Whatever was there was more sinister than any nightmare; it was a creeping, ominous hand that spread across her back and wrapped around her spine, leaving a slick, greasy feeling of horror coating her blood. Voices, soft and cajoling, enticingly bid her to step into the gray haze that was slowly twining itself around her bare ankles. The silver vapor rolled from around her, boiling over the sharp, jagged edge of the cliff she balanced on. It layered everything with its oddly sharp heat, taking the depth from the colors of the scene she stood in. The voices became louder, more persistent, the words jumbled and twisted around each other so that she couldn’t understand what they were. But they were still somehow seductive and infinitely persuasive. It would have been so effortless to ease into the growing darkness, to take that small step forward and become enveloped in the deep waves of haze. After all, it was only a dream -- and yet, even though she knew she wasn’t awake, the shadows made her desperately uncomfortable, as if a harsh, stiff hand were closing slowly around her throat, trying to suffocate her. She wanted to flee, to run back to the joyful dancing and the carefree music, but she felt chained to the spot. She tried to look beyond the fog, but her eyes couldn’t seem to focus; they were locked straight ahead as the sounds around her were absorbed into the escalating voices. The gray began to fade into black, covering the silver hues with impenetrable darkness. As the mist began to change, she tried to struggle, tried to push against the weight of the fog that seemed to be pressing mercilessly against her chest now.

“Easy ...” Another voice seeped into her mind, soft, lilting, scattering the clouds of black that were threatening to drown her. She searched for it, mentally grasping for what felt like her only lifeline.

“You don’t belong here, Eve. Go back to the fairy circle.” She would have gladly done that, but she felt as if invisible ties bound her to the cliff. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was locked in her throat like a sharp lump.

“They have power over you only if you allow it. Break free and go back to the forest.” It was only a dream, nothing more and nothing less, she told herself. Silently, she closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts; then she pictured the fog falling away, shoving the swirling eddies from her body with a strong thrust from her mind. The other voices were suddenly gone as the darkness that had seeped in around her disappeared.

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“Go, Veneficus, run back. Forget this.” She turned slowly, half fearful that the ominous force would still be there, half afraid that she would lose the connection to the voice she seemed to have some sort of bond with.

“Dream, Eve, dream of the fairies and of your home, past and future. Do not remember this, do not remember the darkness ... you are the light, Evelina. You are the light for us all.” The words, so sincerely spoken, quickly drained the last of the corrosive pall that still lingered in her veins. A gentle breeze stirred around her, stroking the heated skin of her cheek as it tenderly lifted stray curls of her hair. Oddly, it felt as if she’d been touched, as if someone had reached out and run his hands over her face and long tresses. The merriment she’d been forced from poured out from the woods beside her, drawing her attention once again. She spun on her agile toes, then hesitated, her eyes searching the shockingly blue sky and emerald green hills for any sign of the man who had saved her. But she was alone -- as she usually was. Sighing, she a bit too easily let go of the need to find him and raced back into the woods, never questioning why the thought of the smothering fog was gradually falling away from her dream and her memory.

***** His dark eyes shot open as he cursed, long and fluid, in frustration and anger. He stared at the black ceiling, his sight keen even in the darkly cloaked room. Fucking hell! He’d connected to her! How he’d managed it, he wasn’t sure, but damn it, he had. And she’d been so close to losing herself to his voice, so close to falling into his seduction. Then something had broken that tentative link, snapping it clearly and shoving him away. He’d been pushed so quickly that he hadn’t even been able to see where she was - or what she looked like. If he knew her features, he could track her down eventually and then -“Umm ... is it nighttime yet?” a husky female voice asked from beside him. He reached his hand out, letting it fall on the naked ass of his bed partner. “Not quite, Iliana,” he murmured. “Then why are you awake? Or is it,” she began with a wicked smile, “that you didn’t get enough of me?” He tried to ignore her as she slithered her thin body across his, her long blond hair tumbling down to brush his chest as she did. Her thighs slid down his hips, allowing his growing erection to be cradled between her dripping lips. His fury rolled itself into sexual heat, showing him the most fulfilling path to unleash his anger. He lifted his hand and grabbed her breast, squeezing and kneading, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with almost too much pressure. He knew if she had been any other woman, he would have left bruises.

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“I could fuck you all night,” he told her gruffly. “Oh, I like that,” she purred. “I love it when you’re angry.” “You just love it rough,” he stated, turning his head to nip her arm. “Mmm ... what’s made my sweet Cain so mad?” she asked, then dropped her head to his chest as she began scraping his nipples with her teeth. “Her,” he growled, bucking his length against her. The tip of his cock connected with her small, hard clit, rubbing against it forcefully. She hissed in delight, moving with him as she coated his dick with warm, wet juices. “Her,” she repeated. “Another woman? Hmm ... I don’t mind sharing, if you don’t.” He chuckled at her sensuous smile before deflating her hopes. “Sorry, love, it was someone in my dream.” “Oh,” she pouted, then picked up the pace to please herself. She hummed deeply in her throat, colliding again and again with the head of his erection, her body beginning to quiver as he pinched her nipple and shoved against her. “Tell me about her; a fantasy might be better than the real thing.” “No, no fantasy,” he rasped, grinding his teeth as his sac began to tingle unmercifully. “The Sacred Child.” She hesitated a moment, then laughed throatily. “You had a wet dream about a legend?” His hand snapped up and fisted tightly in her hair, jerking her down so that their noses touched. “Not a legend. She’s real, Iliana. I know it.” Instead of commenting, she leaned in a fraction and bit his lower lip, breaking the soft skin, then licking the blood slowly from his damaged flesh. “Mmm ... I love your taste,” she breathed. Her actions eased the ferocity inside of him; he unwound his fingers from her tresses, heating under her naked body as she laved his mouth. Cain skimmed his tapered hands quickly down her creamy back to her hips. When her rhythm brought her up, he slammed himself inside of her, groaning at the feel of her slippery, pulsating walls. “Yes, Cain ... oh, like that,” she gasped, bucking wildly with his hard cock inside of her. He obliged, ramming in and out, roughly massaging her breasts and nipples. He felt his testicles tighten, felt the hot load inside of him surging to the top. “Fuck me, Ana, fuck me!” he tried to yell between clenched teeth. “Oh, yeah, yeah, Cain,” she sobbed raggedly. Her head fell back as low, animalistic sounds vibrated through her body and from her mouth. She squeezed, milking him with her hard, drawn-out orgasm. He shot forward, warm

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liquid pouring from his body into hers as she continued to cry out. His orgasm drained him with exquisite pleasure until there was nothing left. “Hell, Iliana, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he panted. “Too late,” she giggled, wiggling against his crotch. He laughed with her, bringing her down into his arms as he secured her against his chest. With his body sated again and his mind exhausted from searching for -- and finding -the Sacred Child of legend, it wasn’t long before Cain fell into a deep slumber. When his breathing became rhythmic, Iliana leaned up, propping her arms on his ribs as she stared down at him. “I wonder what you would say if you knew that you and the woman you’re looking for are distantly related. I just knew you would be useful,” she whispered, lifting a manicured finger to brush aside a stray lock of his light brown hair. “I’m so glad you’re proving me right. It would be a shame to have to kill such a superb lover.”

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Chapter Two Eve finished tugging her sky-blue T-shirt over her braided hair and smiled wanly at her reflection in the mirror. She was rested -- still lonely, but at least not as tired as she had been the past few weeks. Giving a plaintive sigh, she wandered from her room, her feet bare below her soft jeans. She was in a decent mood, almost a happy one, in fact, after the night before. She didn’t remember her dreams completely, though something told her they had been vivid, since the vague impressions of light laughter, bright music, and gentle, smiling faces still lingered in her mind. Despite the warm dream, though, there was still a black chill that seemed determined to frost her spine, a frigid coldness that she couldn’t explain. As she ran her hand down the heavy oak banister, her mind drifted back to her sleeping hours, searching for the reason for her uneasiness. But it seemed the more she dug for answers, the more they slipped away, as if they had been instructed to hide from her probing. She shouldn’t allow herself to become so preoccupied by something that wasn’t real, even if it did seem to line the edges of her thoughts. The feeling would eventually fade, she decided, shrugging her shoulders as she tried to dispel the strange dark impression. Besides, it was a beautiful morning, she told herself with a small but determined smile; in fact, she’d already decided to take a long bike ride into town later and enjoy the friendly sunshine and the local gossip. The trees were green, the flowers were vibrant, the breeze was pleasant, and the birds were singing madly for their mates -- there was no reason for her to be so edgy. Squaring her shoulders as she passed a long, light-filled window next to the staircase, she followed the scent of fresh coffee, meaty bacon, and sweetened blueberries. A moment later she was standing in the surprisingly modern kitchen, squinting slightly as the daylight poured in from the picture windows to bounce off copper pots and white tile. “Good morning, Eve,” a smooth, cultured voice greeted.

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She turned and smiled in recognition as her gaze landed on the very efficient, and very sexy, estate manager. Grayson Mallory stood at least six-two, easily dwarfing her five-footand-change frame. He was broad all over, and he wore it unbearably well; his dark blond hair, tanned skin, hazel eyes, and heart-tripping smile made him look like a deliciously wholesome movie star. He claimed he was in his mid-thirties, though it was hard to put an age to the man since his face and body seemed to be somehow timeless. But it was the strange sense of sadness that billowed around him like some kind of alluring, mysterious pheromone that made Gray more than handsome -- it made him undeniable. Her eyes threatened to stray down, even though she already knew how well his honed body filled out his beat-up jeans. Over the last few weeks, she’d found herself wondering what he’d do if she reached out and fondled his butt -- or, better yet, the full crotch of his pants. He’d probably stutter in shock and pull away instead of throwing her down, ripping her clothes off, and taking her long and hard, like she wanted. She could practically feel him between her thighs, his hard muscles spreading her wide, his hard rod sliding between her ready, swollen lips -“Eve?” His puzzled voice startled her out of her very pleasurable daydream, bringing her rudely back to reality and his confused look. “Um, sorry, I was just, uh, thinking about ... about my dream,” she improvised. He lifted his eyebrows in question as he folded his arms over his green-cotton–covered chest. “Nightmares?” “No, no,” she hurried to assure him. “At least, I don’t think so. I don’t know, it’s strange ... I mean, it was a good dream, but ...” “But what?” She looked up, astonished that she’d missed him moving to the other side of the counter. She watched as he poured two heavy white mugs full of the steaming brew, then maneuvered around the large island to stand directly in front of her. “Your dream,” he prompted, handing her a cup. She hesitated for a moment, trying to gather the remnants of her memories, and then suddenly whispered the strange word that floated to the front of her mind. “Veneficus.” “What?” Gray asked, his face set in cool lines as he took a long swallow of coffee. “Veneficus. Do you know what that word means? Is it familiar to you?” He appeared to think for a moment, then gave her a small frown and shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know it. Where did you hear it?” “I’m not sure,” she drawled slowly, toying with her mug. “It just ... never mind. I think being mostly on my own is making me hear things. I thought I’d go into town today,” she said a bit more brightly.

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“Oh, well, you’ll enjoy it -- if it doesn’t rain.” He leaned over to pick up a piece of perfectly crisped bacon from a platter on the island. “Rain? But it’s gorgeous outside; I’ll be fine. Then, when I get back I can ...” He quirked his eyebrow at her, waiting for her to finish as he slowly chewed his breakfast. “Then you can what?” “The gardens,” she sighed. “I forgot I promised myself I’d tend the gardens today. Damn!” “Maybe you can go tomorrow,” he said casually. “Yeah, tomorrow,” she breathed. “It always seems to be tomorrow with me.” He chuckled deeply and took a last sip of coffee before grabbing a blueberry muffin and heading for the door. “Don’t worry, it’s hereditary. Your grandfather does the same thing.” She watched him leave through the heavy wooden door, the sunlight glinting off the paned window as his booted foot shut it firmly behind him. She might have found herself caught here again, even if it was by her own hand, but at least she’d have an excellent image of Gray’s tight butt to think of as she worked.

***** He was finally settling into a restful slumber when his cell phone screamed rudely in his ear. His eyes popped open, and he glared at the small, offending device. As it continued to chirp, he let out a defeated breath and picked it up, looking at the blue-lit number as he shifted his naked body in the massive bed. Finally, he punched the call button and brought it to his ear. “What do you want, Abram?” he asked in a gravelly voice. “Well, Rath, I’d really like some harmony and quiet in my old age,” the other man lamented. “But for right now, I’ll settle on knowing my granddaughter is okay.” Alrik leaned up in bed, feeling in his gut that his old friend had experienced the strange clawing of the darkness in Eve’s dream. “She’s fine,” he replied as gently as he could. Abram loved his grandchild ferociously, and he deserved to have a little peace of mind about her when he could get it. “You’re sure? The binding spell I put on the keep and on Eve is still strong?” Alrik reached out with his thoughts, skimming over the other people who moved in and around the castle. Eve wasn’t hard to find; she had an inner essence that was strong and alluring ... and sensuous. Shaking away the memories of the night before, he focused on her activities and couldn’t help but give a small smile. “She’s in the garden, forcing the flowers,” he said. “She does have her grandmother’s green thumb. It’s a wonder she’s never questioned why and how she can make things grow,” the older man sighed.

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“We live what we know. She’s always been able to perform miracles with her plants. Why would she wonder about it?” There was a moment of silence before Abram replied, “Sometimes I forget how old you really are. But then you point out the painfully obvious and add a twist of wisdom, and I remember.” “Thank you for bringing up my age,” he replied as he lay back down. “Now, let an ancient man get some sleep.” Abram laughed softly in apology. “Sorry, Rath, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just had the oddest feeling last night --” “It was taken care of. No one knows who she is or where she is, I promise.” Quiet descended again, and then the other man let out a quick, reluctant “Okay.” “I’m going to sleep now.” Alrik positioned himself comfortably under the dark satin sheets. “If you need updates, I suggest you try your guard dog.” “Gray would definitely not appreciate that,” Abram told him lightly. “As if I should care. Good night, old man.” With that he broke the connection and tossed the little silver phone across the room and onto the leather lounger. Slamming his eyes shut, he forced his thoughts to stop racing and began to mentally relax his body. Several moments later he felt his muscles going lax, his breathing evening out, his heartbeat slowing little by little. His mind began to drift pleasantly, his thoughts scattering as the veil of sleep drew closer. When he was passing through the waking world to the sleeping, Eve’s image materialized in front of him. She stood before him, her hair loose, her chin slightly tilted, her body held bold and proud -- and gloriously naked. He tried to push her away, but her figure refused to dissipate; instead, she moved closer to him, leaving only a few precious inches between them. Gossamer light shone around her as wisps of thin fog ran delicate fingers up and down her unblemished skin. Awake, he wouldn’t have dared to touch her, but here, almost asleep, he knew he had free rein. The idea of what her creamy flesh would feel like under his hands spurred him on. Giving in to his desire, he lifted his hand to her face and carefully traced her features, his fingertips lingering as he outlined her full mouth. Her eyes drifted closed as she pushed into his palm; then her tongue snaked out to slowly lick the pad of his thumb. He let out a quick hiss, bringing her eyelashes fluttering up so that she stared at him, her face softening into a sexual mask of need as her amber eyes burned into him. With a quick growl, he jerked her fully against him, skin to skin, and was shocked at the bolt that shot straight to his already rigid cock. She moved against him seductively, her hard nipples piercing into his heated flesh as she wiggled slowly. His hand smoothed up and down the satiny skin from her hip to her ribs, pausing to tease the large globe of her breast. She purred in reaction, then shifted to straddle

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his thigh, her hot, moist lips and short, springy hair rubbing against him as she undulated sensually. “Please,” she whispered raggedly. It was enough to make him lose control. His mouth collided with her neck, his teeth grazing, but never biting, her tender flesh - no matter how much he hungered for the taste of her. He could feel her skin become a scorching fire, her scent rolling like musky, fiery waves around him. He nipped his way down her shoulders, savoring her as she writhed and bucked against him, stroking her swollen clit against the rough skin of his leg. He continued to scrape his way along her collarbone with his mouth and teeth, leaving small red marks on her before reaching her breasts. He paused for a moment, allowing his breath to tease over the tips, then finally drew one rigid nipple into his mouth, groaning when she cried out in sheer pleasure. He sucked on her, pulling on the peak, rolling it against his teeth. “Oh! Oh, yes!” she yelled, pushing herself even further into his hard body. Her nails bit into his muscled back, digging and scratching, wounding his flesh, shoving him toward near insanity. “I need to be ridden,” she gasped out. “I need you. I need you inside of me, filling me. I need you pumping hard and fast!” “Yes,” he rasped harshly. He grasped her hips and lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positioned her body over his. “I’ll make you scream,” he promised. Before she could reply, he slammed her down on his long, thick cock, grinding his teeth as he sank between her sweltering, engorged lips. Her walls stretched around him, pulsing as he filled her completely. “Oh, hell, baby, you feel -- oh ...” he managed. She was so damn slick, so tight and moist, so welcoming as he nudged her womb with the head of his dick. They began moving, their pace quick as the sounds of their joining filled the air. Moaning and groaning mixed with the noise of their flesh pounding together echoed in his head as they held onto each other’s slick skin. He lost track of time and place, not caring about anything but their wild ride. He felt her orgasm grow inside of her, knew it by the way she mewed and dug her heels into his back. He couldn’t stop himself; he reached out with his mind and tried to join her, wanting desperately to feel her come from the inside out. Too late, he remembered this was a dream - a vivid dream, but still unreal. Before he could pull his thoughts back, the dream Eve was arching, screaming as she orgasmed, mercilessly squeezing his rod in long, rhythmic pulses, drawing his ejaculation

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through his erection. He roared with his own release, frantically grasping her quivering hips to steady himself while he poured his hot, sticky liquid inside of her. As the last tide of his orgasm rushed away, he jolted up in his bed, his eyes stinging with sweat while his lungs struggled for oxygen. Shocked by what had just happened, he looked down at his lap and found the sheets soaked with his release.

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Chapter Three Outside in the brightly blooming garden, Eve sat shakily back on her heels, her face and body covered with a thin sheen of sweat as her crotch twitched and hummed from a powerful -- and completely unexpected -- orgasm. Now this was something that had definitely never happened before. Releasing a deep breath, she plopped to her bottom, the sheen of sweat that covered her skin evaporating in the gentle breeze. Something in the Irish air must agree with her, she thought with a wobbly smile. If this kept up, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stay away from the keep. Laughing to herself, she pushed up onto watery legs and wandered over to the tall tree that stood a few feet away. She picked up her icy bottle of water from the balmy shade and took a long, full gulp. Her bones seemed to be nothing more than rubber at that moment, as insubstantial as fog ... fog ... the word brought a niggling to her mind. She thought it might have something to do with her dream last night. But what? She’d tried to remember the details for most of the day, but her memories were frayed on the edges, the images smeared and dirty. But maybe if she concentrated, if she tried to fill out the empty spots ... then suddenly it just didn’t matter. She was too tired to care, her eyes heavy-lidded and her mind exhausted. Sinking to the ground, she leaned against the harsh bark of the oak and let her lids close and her thoughts scatter. Before she realized what was happening, Eve had fallen into a dreamless sleep. She woke a few hours later, her eyes still sleep drugged as she watched the clouds race across the descending sun. Stretching, she carefully lifted her stiff body from the ground and yawned, relaxed from her impromptu nap. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d indulged in an afternoon lie-down. She’d fought against taking naps since the day she’d turned two. Her grandfather often laughed about the way she’d given her mother fits when she’d been tucked in, yelling that she was a big girl and didn’t need to rest.

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The thought brought a sad smile to her face as she thought of her parents. With unhurried movements, she pulled several bright blooms of marigolds and gently tended roses from her garden. Slowly, she began to climb the hill beside the stone castle, the reds and purples of the soothing sunset casting shadows as she quietly found her way to her parents’ grave. When she reached the top of the quiet hill overlooking the keep, she paused and looked down at the place where her parents had been laid. Carefully, she lowered herself to the still-warm grass and gently traced the outline of their names with her fingertip. She only had hazy, fleeting images of Quin and Abigail Griffin, but what she did remember was happy. Her mother’s laughter, her father’s smile, being spun around on her father’s shoulders, and gliding back and forth as her mother pushed her gently on a swing. Her grandfather said she looked like Abigail, with the exception of her whiskey-colored eyes. Those were pure Griffin, he always said with a grin, down to the bright twinkle. From the pictures she’d seen scattered around the keep, Abram was right. She only wished she could have really known them; they had seemed so full of life and laughter and abounding love. But she’d at least had her grandfather to take care of her. No matter how much she might have resented the private boarding schools he’d shipped her to and the summers spent in the castle just down the hill, she knew he loved her. A chill wind rippled through the air and over her bare arms, reminding her that the sun was sinking lower by the minute. She gave the rounded marble headstone a final tender touch, hesitating as she arranged the bouquet of marigolds and roses she’d brought from her garden in the thick stone vase.

“Come home ...” The voice floated over her mind, the warmth of it sinking down her spine. Scared, confused, and a bit excited by the way the voice made her body go hot, she hopped up and spun around, expecting to find a man there. Instead, she only saw the eye-popping colors of the horizon reflecting off the stones of Griffin Keep. “It’s late.” This time she knew she wasn’t hearing a voice in her head. Turning quickly, she cast a smile in the direction of the tall, broad-shouldered figure. “Gray, what are you doing out here?” “I manage the estate; it’s my job to roam the grounds.” His handsome features eased as he moved to stand in front of her. “You didn’t come to dinner, so we got worried.” “Worried? Don’t tell me the staff has turned into a bunch of mother hens,” she laughed. “No, but they know there are some dangerous things out here in the wild, especially in the woods,” he told her, his tone holding a layer of warning. She watched his mouth move, saw the words form, but didn’t quite register them. Her sudden sexual release in the garden had been gratifying, but it had also set her blood to a

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near boil, and the steam from that was still coating every fiber of her body. And here Gray stood, so close that his body heat was radiating out to her. Right now all she could think of was her fantasy from the night before, and how much better it would have been had a man been the one to bring her to orgasm. Having Gray here, looking so tempting, in a quiet, secluded area where no one could see or hear them, was a sudden, heady turn-on. “Eve, are you all right?” he prompted, his bright, mottled eyes searching her face. “What? Oh, oh, yes, I’m ... Gray, do you have a girlfriend?” Her question startled him, not just because of the personal nature of it, but because it seemed to have come out of nowhere. “I -- no, I don’t,” he stammered. “Don’t you get lonely out here? I mean, you live in the middle of nowhere Ireland; it must be hard to have so few people for company,” she said, scrutinizing him carefully. He couldn’t decide if she was coming onto him, or if she was asking an honest question. He chose to take her query as the latter. “Sometimes, yes, I do; but it’s a trade-off for me. I have a nice place to live, plenty of food, no one judges me, and I’m safe.” Her eyebrow crooked a moment before she took a step forward, crowding disturbingly into his space. She studied him carefully and thoroughly, causing him to shift his weight as he tried to keep his breathing calm and even. Eve couldn’t have any idea how appealing she was in the fading sun, how alluring her eyes and mouth were, how much his baser side wanted to toss her down, rip her clothes away, and fuck her until neither of them could stand straight. But that was the animal side of him; the cooler, logical side kept his hands fisted in his pockets. A wild screw beside her parents’ grave would cause too many entanglements for both of them -- no matter how carnally satisfying it might be. Besides the fact that he didn’t think he could handle the guilt of feeling as if he’d somehow cheated on a woman he hadn’t seen in years. “Safe? No one judges you? That sounds an awful lot like you’re on the run, or hiding out,” she whispered. “You’ve got too much Irish in you; you come up with fantastic stories out of a few simple words,” he scoffed, hoping to God that his eyes hadn’t betrayed the quick flash of memory. “Um, maybe,” she drawled. He began to speak and turn away, but her hand reached out and touched his chest, waylaying him. “I don’t care about your secrets,” she breathed. “I know you, Gray, and I know you’re as lonely as I am.” “Eve, don’t --”

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“Don’t what? Don’t feel what any other woman would? Don’t want or need a companion?” She gave him a small smile and slid her fingers slowly into his hair. “You know that’s not possible. I’m just like every other human being on the face of the earth; I need to be touched and I need to feel wanted. I know it wouldn’t be love, Gray. I gave up on that lie years ago. But you can’t tell me that you don’t want or need to feel a woman in your arms, someone to connect with, someone to hold on to while you both enjoy physical pleasure.” He was going to pay dearly for the visions her words elicited, but he couldn’t stop them. He understood what she was saying; he’d already found his mate, a woman he’d had to leave behind, a woman who despised him now. He only took women now when his animal side demanded it, and those were times when he didn’t really have a choice. As much as he’d like to deny it, he realized Eve was quickly making that wild side claw its way over his human side. It wouldn’t be love, no, but it would be damn satisfying to drive in and out of her hot body until they both rocked with their orgasms. The air crackled with the electricity of their unfulfilled appetites. With mutual consent, their mouths crashed together, the heat of their lips spiraling around them as their wet tongues tangled and delved. He reached down and clamped his hands around her plump butt, pulling her fully against his rock-hard erection. She gasped in his mouth, her hands playing down from his hair to his rugged shoulders, as her fingers dug into his shirt and his flesh. He felt her nipples jump into hard points against his chest as her heated apex moved against his cock. A growl, low, feral, and ethereal, exploded through Gray’s thoughts a split second before he was ripped away from Eve. He landed with a hard thud against the solid ground, his spine reverberating with the impact. Shaking his head to clear it, he watched Eve look around with confused eyes, her ragged breathing muffled in the still early evening. “Gray, what -- what happened?” He bound to his feet gracefully, quite an impressive feat considering he’d just been knocked on his ass by a pissed-off vamp. “I was -- we were moving back, and I fell,” he told her, anger and embarrassment warring in his veins as he fought for control. “Oh, okay, well then ...” She moved toward him, her flushed skin bright in the gathering night. He held his hand up, warning her away before she could touch him. “No, Eve,” he denied. “Just don’t ... we can’t do this.” She halted, then stared at him with wide eyes. “I -- I don’t understand. Two seconds ago we were about to screw each other’s brains out.” “And now we’re not. Look, this is not a good idea. You’re my friend’s granddaughter; you’re younger than I am --” “Not by much.”

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“And this --” He gestured at her and then himself. “-- will become complicated, whether we want it to or not. Consider my ... fall fate’s way of leading us away from something dangerous.” “Dangerous? To whom?” “To me, if your grandfather finds out,” he snapped. They stood in silence for a moment, and then Eve ran a shaky hand over her stomach. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. No, I understand you don’t want to have sex with me,” she said when he opened his mouth to lecture her. “I’m okay with that; at least now I know where we stand.” A wave of undeserved guilt washed over him as he studied her. She was a beautiful young woman, and she would definitely be an excellent lover with all that pent-up passion and heat, but she wasn’t one he could -- or should -- be touching. “I hope we’re still friends,” he told her softly. Eve let out a gusty chuckle as she shook her head. “The old friends speech; you know, I could hate you for that if I didn’t think you were being so honest.” He laughed with her, thankful that he hadn’t alienated her by thinking with his cock instead of his brain. He held his hand out to her, ignoring the raging hard-on that threatened to tear through his jeans. With a soft sigh she slid her palm against his and let him lead her back to the castle.

***** He snuck up so quickly, Gray only sensed him a split second before he was slammed against the cold stone wall of his dark bedroom. “I should rip your dick off and pull out your heart,” Alrik hissed. Gray didn’t struggle against the arm that was penned flat across his throat. Instead, he took a deep breath and stared the other man in his fiery blue eyes. “Nothing happened, Rath,” he rasped. “Only because I pushed you away! Damn it to hell, Gray, what the hell were you thinking?” Rath bellowed. “Calm down. I didn’t fuck her.” “But you wanted to. I felt it!” “And she wanted me, too,” Gray point out, quickly becoming angry. “That’s what you’re pissed about. You need a good lay, and I was about to get one.” Alrik flung the other man away, disgusted by his statement and the way it rang so true. “Stupid, idiot mutt! You know who she is, what she is. Would you hurt the old man like that?”

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“Just because she was born special doesn’t mean she’s not human, with all the urges any ordinary woman would have,” he spit out, using Eve’s words to defend himself. “That’s just it, you moronic ass -- she’s not ordinary!” Rath’s exclamation hung in the air between them, the words echoing in the black room as they damned the furious man who had dared to speak them out loud. “Sweet Jesus, you want her,” Gray murmured intensely. “My God, you can’t! You know how dangerous --” “I can control myself, unlike certain others,” Alrik ground between tight teeth. “Just don’t touch her -- ever!” Gray held his breath as he watched Rath fade into the shadows, his eyes narrowed in concern and shock. He’d never seen Alrik Rath behave this way over a woman, not in the countless years the two had been forced to work as a reluctant team for the good of the Griffin family and all of their races. “Damn it, Rath, don’t do it. Don’t want her.” Because if he did, they would all be royally fucked.

***** Alrik watched her as she slept, her creamy skin exuding the erotic scent that was purely her own. He was tempted to reach into her mind, to meld with her like he had before. But it was a dangerous proposition to keep doing it, especially to the uninitiated such as Eve. If she didn’t know who he was, he could very well give himself away in her dreams -- if he didn’t break her mind with his dabbling first. He leaned back in the chair he occupied, his form concealed now by the darkness. Before he could settle completely, he heard her moan, his heightened eyesight helping him to see her as she thrashed and turned. Remembering the night before, he stood and hurried to her, his black jeans and buttondown shirt concealing him even in the slanted shafts of moonlight. When he reached her, she groaned again, this time more guttural and, much to his discomfort, with a distinctly sexual tone. Her bare leg kicked restlessly outside of the covers, her smooth calf and thigh telling him that she was completely naked underneath the soft sky-blue sheet. He felt his cock harden to steel, his balls tingling as he stared, his eyes skimming over her lush curves. Her body shifted again, exposing one round, full breast with a dusky, erect tip, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. “Please,” she murmured, her thoughts lost in an obviously erotic dream. He stood on the sharp edge of indecision, fighting the need to taste her, to suck her nipple into his mouth, to plunge his long fingers inside of her and feel her thick juices coat his skin. Then her hand slid temptingly over her heated skin, and his hesitation was obliterated.

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Silently, he climbed onto the bed, his body on fire as he covered her. Her eyes stayed closed, but her lips tilted into a catlike smile, as if the weight of his body was exactly what she’d been longing for. “A dream, Eve, this is a dream,” he whispered huskily, wanting to please her, but needing to keep the veil of secrecy intact. She made a deep, purring sound in the back of her throat, and he licked his lips, anticipating her taste and texture. His mouth descended to her breast before finally nipping the soft flesh with his strong teeth. He could hear her heart, the rush of her rich, thick blood as it coursed through her veins in long, heavy waves. He felt the raw, nearly uncontrollable urge to make her completely his, to sip her essence and take it into him, but he wrestled it away. Instead, he pulled her nipple between his lips and sucked deeply, reveling in the hard gasp she gave him. Her hands reached out and fisted in the sheets as her body rocked, her hot pussy pressing again and again against his rigid cock. Unable to stop himself, he pushed back, creating a hard, steady rhythm as he continued to suckle her nipple roughly. “Yes ... oh, yes ...” she prodded, begging for more with her throaty praise. Impatiently, he pushed the tangled sheet aside, melding into her mind as he did. He was assaulted with stunning moving colors, their hues sensual as they washed over him. He felt her passion hasten as spears of lust stabbed through her every time the tip of his cock collided with her soaking core. His thoughts were full of her -- her feel, her smell, and her erotic mental images; he was only missing her taste -- her true taste. Biting and licking his way down her torso, he finally sank between her quivering thighs, his heavy sex throbbing as he poised over her moist lips. Smiling wickedly, he licked the inside of her legs, chuckling with power when her hips rose, and she made a high, pleading sound in her throat. Taking pity on both of them, he moved his tongue and slowly, agonizingly, ran his wet muscle over her engorged slit. She bucked and cried out, sending the colors skittering and swirling in their joined minds. His body went hotly taut, and Rath delved deeper, his tongue sliding inside of her, drawing out her flavor as he set a hypnotic pace. She was delicious, as he’d known she’d be, scorching and bitterly sweet against his taste buds. He felt her body begin to sweat, her skin slicked with moisture as his tongue lapped up to the hard nub of her clit. She arched desperately against him, her cries turning to mews and high-pitched, animalistic growls as she began to ride his mouth. He tongued her slowly, the rough texture of his muscle flipping back and forth over her sensitive tip, pushing her unerringly toward the stratosphere. He rubbed and flicked, growling softly as she gasped and whipped on the bed, delighting in her growing orgasm. He drove her for several minutes, determined to have her remember what she’d think was a dream and knowing it was better than any real man she’d ever had before. She began sobbing for relief, her hands clawing at the mattress, at her skin, at his arms, anything she

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could reach. He held on to her hips, continuing to torture her, drinking her juices as they coated his mouth. Finally he knew she’d had more than enough; she needed her release, or she’d wake up and find him, a stranger, licking and nipping her. His grip tightened, and he lifted her a bit higher against his lips. His tongue began a full, rapid assault, lashing over her throbbing clit with amazing speed and a feather-light touch. He slipped two long, wide fingers inside of her, fucking her with his hand the way he wanted to fuck her with his cock. He was rewarded a few moments later when her body coiled and tensed, her voice rising to an almost imperceptible decibel as she sang out her orgasm. Her walls clenched around him unmercifully as waves of scalding, slick honey poured over his knuckles. The colors that had danced in both their heads exploded, sending millions of faceted bits raining down like brilliant confetti. They mixed with the overwhelmingly knotted, expanding, soulripping orgasm that tore through her body and sent her hurling straight into the outer reaches of heaven. His body responded in kind, coming in full, heavy spurts as he kept her against his mouth. He continued to sooth her with his tongue until the final spasm rolled from her body and her limbs became lax. Then he slid up her sweat-soaked skin, allowing his still half-erect member to cradle against the pulsing lips between her thighs. “Remember the dream, Veneficus,” he whispered. “Remember this ... and need only the one who could give this to you.” He watched as she let out a long, contented breath and snuggled further into her pillow. Pulling away, he climbed from her slowly, his eyes never leaving her flushed, satisfied face. He gently moved a stray lock of her honey-brown hair from her forehead, his mind filled with confusion as he carefully broke their mental connection. He had come with her, so locked in the physical pleasure he’d been giving to her that he hadn’t been able to stop his body’s reaction. He’d lost control with a woman, a damned young woman at that; something like this had never happened before, not ever in his former life, not even with his first lover. As he watched her fall deeper into sleep, he felt something unexpected, something warm and whole, wrap around his chest with a gentle squeeze. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, and yet it seemed to evoke a fist of panic that lodged its cold fingers in his throat. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant.

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Chapter Four Eve wandered downstairs the next morning, her tawny eyes heavy and her limbs languid after the incredible dream the night before. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn it had been a real encounter with an actual man. Still, even though she realized it had only been a very realistic dream, she had experienced the most shattering orgasm of her life. It had shocked her, to say the least. She had never, not since she’d first had stirrings of sexual need, found a true release from her dreams, and so it had been a wickedly wonderful surprise to learn that she was capable of it. As she meandered into the kitchen, her pale yellow T-shirt and faded jeans lit by the sun’s rays, she noticed Gray in his usual spot. He was leaning back against the counter, sipping a tall mug of coffee, his work boots, jeans, and dark red T-shirt already spattered with dirt. She gave him a soft, satisfied smile as she went to retrieve a cup of coffee for herself, eliciting a curiously raised eyebrow from him. “You look ... happy this morning.” “Um, I am,” she said contentedly. “I had an ... interesting night.” Gray took in her radiant glow, mysterious smirk, shining amber eyes, and the musky aroma that clung to her. One name came immediately to mind. “I was afraid you’d be pissed with me,” he said conversationally. “After last night and our ... uh ...” “My failed attempt to seduce you,” she put in. Chuckling, she shook her head and stirred a spoonful of sugar into her drink. “Don’t worry about it. I told you it wasn’t a big deal, and I meant it. Trust me, I’m fine.”

I’ll just bet you are, he thought, studying her over the rim of his cup. Damn it, Rath! He ground his teeth and took one long, slow breath, willing himself to calm down.

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“So, it’s almost the Fourth of July,” Eve said, changing the subject drastically. “The what?” he asked as he fought the anger that had swelled inside of him. “The Fourth of July; it’s a national holiday in America. Fireworks, parades, picnics, concerts under the stars ...” “I know what Independence Day is, Eve. I am an American,” he pointed out with a crooked grin. “I just didn’t think you’d miss it, considering.” “Considering I’m usually in Ireland during July. You forget I’m an American, too, Gray. I was born and raised in the states for three years, and I attended school there. In fact, I think I’m going to move back there this fall.” He kept his mouth closed and averted his eyes so she wouldn’t see the doubt harbored there. “So you want a celebration, is that what you’re saying?” “Well, we have a little over a week. I figured we could line up some fireworks, some food, maybe even a band --” “Whoa, hold it! You want to have a party, here, on the estate?” he questioned, suddenly becoming very concerned. “Why not? I haven’t been into town at all this year; something always seems to stop me. I can print out some invitations from the computer, and you or one of the staff can hand deliver them. I’m sure there’s a small local band that would love to perform, and I know for a fact there’s a huge grill in the back. We can give horse rides over the trails and boat rides across the lake,” she continued, smiling as she warmed to her idea. “We can make it like a small carnival, with plenty of things to do --” He held up his hand, waylaying her excitement. “And what makes you think Abram isn’t going to have a stroke when he hears about your party?” “Because he loves me, and he’ll understand how much I need to do this,” she told him resolutely. There was a moment of heavy silence as they eyed each other, both unsure about whether to have a screaming match or a calm discussion. Finally, Gray broke the uncertain pause. “You’re that lonely here, Eve? There are other people in the keep ... and there’s me.” “And everyone is on staff and is constantly busy. Meanwhile, I’m left to find something to keep myself occupied. Come on, Gray, you took away my chance for a good, red-hot fling, don’t take this away, too.” He let out a gusty sigh and carefully put his empty cup on the tiled counter. With a slow look, he shook his head. “I’ll abide by whatever Abram says.” “Then I hope you’re prepared for the village to visit,” she said with a charming smile. “Who knows, I might find someone fun to spend the rest of my summer with.”

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Her comment brought back his original fury over what he was sure Rath had done to Eve the night before. Riding the wave, he gave the pretty woman a curt “Good luck” and strode out of the kitchen.

***** Alrik was in a deep, undisturbed sleep when something dragged him unceremoniously from the bed by his ankles. His body was dumped callously on the cold, wood-planked floor, his head hitting and bouncing with a resounding thwack. “What the hell did you do, Rath?” The question was asked in a near roar, the words bringing him immediately awake as he drew his naked body up to stand. “Gray, what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Me ... me? What’s wrong with you, leech? How could you do that to her?” Alrik didn’t need an explanation; he understood perfectly well what his reluctant partner was talking about. With measured strides, he brought himself directly in front of the other man, careful to keep his eyes level with Gray’s steely glare. “I didn’t do anything she wasn’t begging for,” Alrik barked. “Hell, Rath, what were you thinking?” Gray bit back. “That I was doing what I had to in order to keep her in the walls of Griffin Keep.” “Yeah, well, excellent job, old man. She’s now so damned happy, she wants to have a Goddamned party,” Gray spit out. That fact made Alrik pause, his blue eyes swirling as he considered what had just been said. “She can’t ... we can’t allow it,” he rasped. “What are you going to do -- fuck her twenty-four/seven to keep her occupied?” He could, especially with her taste still lingering on his tongue. The idea stirred him, bringing his thick rod to semi-hardness. Spinning away from Gray, Alrik rammed his hand through his hair and stared down at the black sheet that had been knocked to the floor. “Abram will never allow it.” “He doesn’t want Eve to suffer, Rath. If he realizes how lonely she really is ...” “He’ll what? Take his binding spell off of her and the castle? Allow her to come and go even though she’s in mortal danger?” he snarled. “No, but I do think he’ll concede on this. After all, she’s willing to host it here, and he and the others can cast a protection spell for the evening.” “You know the only thing that will keep the danger out is a binding spell. A protection spell isn’t strong enough. If one of the dark Lamiai is strong enough, they can counteract it.”

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“And we’ll feel it. Why the hell am I defending this?” Gray muttered. “I came in here to kick your ass because of last night. You know better than to touch her.” “It was a dream,” Alrik said lamely. “To her, yes, but I know better. I could smell you all over her. Damn it to hell, Rath, you can’t risk everything like this just because she has a nice ass and a willing pussy.” Alrik whirled, teeth lengthened and bared, eyes changed to pure obsidian. “She needed someone,” he hissed. “She wanted to be touched last night, and she needed a reason to stay close to the castle.” “You don’t scare me, vampire,” Gray growled, his back stretching slightly as his jaw began to distend. “If you keep that face on, one of us won’t be leaving this room alive.” The urge to pummel something -- anything -- in order to relieve the confusion knotting him inside brought Rath to the balls of his feet. He was on the edge of pouncing when he felt it. “Evelina!” Without a thought or backward glance, he blended into the walls toward the soft echo of a feminine scream. He was in the kitchen before Gray, his head pounding as his mind imagined what could be happening to Eve. Without thought, he hurried into the room -- and hissed in pain. Small streams of gray smoke rose from his skin as the blood underneath began to boil. Quickly, he jumped back into the shaded archway, nearly colliding with Gray as his eyes landed on the immobile form of the small woman prone on the floor. “Damn it! Fucking sunlight!” Gray merely shook his head as he dropped beside Eve, carefully avoiding the broken plate that was scattered near her hip. “She’s breathing,” Alrik said, his voice dark and tight. And as long as she was breathing, she would be all right. She had to be. He’d make sure of it. “Yes, she is,” Gray mumbled, gently touching her lax limbs. “Nothing broken, nothing cut or damaged that I can see.” “Careful,” Rath snapped. “Deal,” Gray countered. “I need to know if she’s okay. I really don’t want to ask --” Rath heard the hesitation and understood it. “You need me to link with her.” They exchanged an anxious, grim look before Alrik nodded tersely. Slowly, carefully, he edged his way inside her mind; doing this when he knew she was strong and healthy was bad enough. Melding with her when they weren’t sure about her mental or physical state was dangerous, at best. He probed as tenderly as he could, pushing as far as he dared. Then it was there, the prick of complete darkness that lay in the corner, trying to hide. He pulled away

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immediately, moving as softly as he could so he didn’t hurt her. The moment his eyes refocused, he caught Gray’s hazel gaze with his fiery one. “Someone touched her,” he ground out. “Someone as in ...?” “A dark Lamius.”

***** “Shit!” Iliana reached out and stroked through Cain’s sandy-brown hair and over his cold brow, gently brushing away the pungent sweat that covered his forehead. “What is it, my love?” “I had her, damn it! I know I had her, Iliana -- I felt it. But she managed to push me out. Shit!” he cursed loudly, his fists pounding the armrests of the heavy oak chair he occupied. Iliana moved around him slowly, readjusting the thick burgundy curtains that kept the turn-of-the-century study in shadows. She pushed her long blond hair over her shoulder as she came back to him. “But you’re getting closer, aren’t you?” she coaxed, running her fingertips down his arm. “Mmm, yes, but I still don’t know where the bitch is,” he complained. “Poor, poor Cain,” she cooed as she straddled his lap, her red nightgown covering their legs. “You work too hard.” He gave her an indulgent smile, his chocolate-brown eyes holding her gaze while he stroked her thick tresses. “If I can do this, I’ll be the most powerful being on earth -- and you’ll be my companion. We’ll rule over everyone, everything, forever ... together.” She held back her laugh of glee as she snuggled into his throat and began to nip and suck. He let out a low moan, his head falling back against the chair as she aroused him. His cock filled and lengthened, pressing against her bare crotch through his gray sweatpants. Smiling with pure feminine power, Iliana wiggled against him and let out a throaty hum. “I know a way to make you feel better,” she breathed. He only moaned in response, letting her take the upper hand in creating their pleasure. She continued to move down his body, grazing, gnawing, and blending slight pain with the pleasure of her mouth and tongue. Her hands glided down his bare chest, stopping long enough to torment his nipples with little pulls and plucks. He gasped and pumped his hips. She slithered down him, her satin gown pooling around her as she dropped to her knees. He lifted his butt up, helping her lower his pants.

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The moment his swollen member sprang free, she had her mouth around it, sucking and laving the hot skin as her head bobbed. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he hissed on an indrawn breath. She purred deep in her throat, enjoying the spear of lust the blowjob gave her. She brought her hand up to cup his balls, carefully massaging them as she ravenously devoured his dick. She moved faster and faster, creating harder suction in her mouth as he drove in and out of her wet orifice. She felt his sac tighten and his legs tense and knew he was about to orgasm. With a slow, firm pull of air, she lowered her mouth with the painful deliberation that always sent him over the edge. His cock jumped and constricted in her mouth, a moment later exploding as he groaned his satisfaction. She let his juices roll down her throat, enjoying the sharp, salty taste as his dick began to soften. “Oh, hell, baby, you know exactly what I like,” he rasped. Her lips tilted into a smug smile as her eyes twinkled and her body vibrated for something more gratifying than sex. “We should feed,” she suggested, teasing his bare thigh with one long fingernail. “You know how to make me happy,” he commented with a sated grin.

As long as I do, you’ll be exactly what I need, she thought, and chuckled silently to herself. Giving him a wicked smile, she slithered her body back up his bare skin and took his hand in hers. “I know the perfect spot for hunting,” she cooed.

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Chapter Five Eve glanced up at the bright blue sky, her eyes squinting in the late afternoon sunlight. Absently, she reached up with gloved fingers and gingerly touched the lump that was still evident on the back of her head. She had the vague impression of slipping and falling in the kitchen two days before, but her memory was still hazy. What she did remember with clarity was reaching for a plate, then waking up to the concerned eyes of Gray. It was strange, having even a small block of missing time; part of her mind, in fact, niggled with an odd feeling that something wasn’t quite right, even after the local doctor had come to the keep to examine her. She’d shrugged those thoughts away, though, calling herself paranoid. The towering trees just beyond the gardens whispered in the breeze, bringing her attention back to her flowers and the small spade she held. The garden had helped to sooth her; it always seemed to, even in her saddest times. “It’s amazing out here,” Gray said softly, pulling her gaze around. “Yes, these plants just love the rich soil,” she greeted with a welcoming smile. “And the person tending them,” he added with a grin of his own. “So, did you have a chance to talk to the old man?” Eve chuckled softly as she replied, “Yes, and he would be offended by your nickname.” There was a long pause before he crossed his arms over his blue clad chest, shifted his weight and lifted one heavy eyebrow, waiting patiently for a more detailed answer. Sighing, she gently brushed her hands down her jeans, fighting a laugh that threatened to erupt. “My grandfather finally agreed to the party -- after a few concessions on my part.” “And what did you have to promise?” Gray prompted. “Well, we can have a picnic dinner, a band, dancing, and fireworks right after sunset, but all the guests have to leave right after the display.”

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“So, no day-long celebration?” “No,” she said somberly, still a bit angry because she’d had her get-together scaled down. “But I still intend to have a huge, loud, and incredibly fun party.” Gray’s body tensed almost imperceptibly as he tucked his thumbs into his back pockets and considered the logistics of what Eve was planning. He was positive Abram would contact his friends in the village; he might even send a few from the inner circle to help out. Still, trying to control the flow of people, even with the staff and the other Venefici lending a hand, was going to be incredibly difficult. He and Rath would definitely have their plates full with this damn party. “I’m sorry, does it bother you to have all those people coming to Griffin Keep?” Her question jarred him back to the present, his gaze focusing on her suddenly anxious and apologetic face. Even though he felt less than thrilled about her plans, he found himself giving her a reassuring smile. “No, it’s okay, really. It’s just going to be a hell of a job getting it all together.” “That’s why I’m heading inside when I’m through here; I need to finish the list of what needs to be done and the time schedule. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” she promised. Gray simply nodded and turned, ambling away with a cold stone of anxiety weighing in his chest. He had known the old man wouldn’t be able to tell her no, not when she’d been so obviously starved for the outside world. But, damn it, this was going to be a complication with more twists than the Kama Sutra.

***** Rath came to her again that night, his body aching for her even as his mind forced his driving libido to stay calm. It was his duty to watch over her, to protect her, and he wasn’t a vampire who took his obligations lightly. The sheer need he had for her couldn’t be allowed to interfere with the promise he’d made to Abram; Eve had already been touched by one of the dark Lamiai, and he knew that she was in more danger now than she’d ever been. He had to try to stay objective, keeping himself one step away from her in order to keep her safe. Silently, he gazed down at her sleeping form with glowing eyes and saw the way the sheets clung to her lush curves. He knew she was naked again. He could smell her in the air, the muskiness of her body heat, the warm fullness that was strictly her own. Her soap, a delicate lilac scent, drifted and mixed with her natural aroma. He’d never been one to become aroused by a woman’s pheromones, but something about Eve struck him in the solar plexus and the groin. He knew in that moment that all his good intentions were only as strong as wet tissue paper when faced with the beauty that was Evelina. Almost reluctantly he reached out, paused in hesitation, then allowed his long fingers to stroke her thick, curling hair. She purred softly and turned her face toward his palm,

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cuddling against his hand as she sighed in something that could only be described as sexual arousal. Suddenly more curious than he knew he should be, he focused closely on her features and realized she had a distinct flush to her cheeks. An erotic dream, he thought, smiling wolfishly. Unable to help himself, he slowly let his mind sink into hers, all the while justifying his behavior by believing he was only keeping the dark Lamius at bay. The moment her dream materialized, Alrik felt himself instantly harden. They were in her bedroom, the walls flickering with only the light from the fireplace. She was on her bed, naked, positioned on all fours as she heaved and whimpered. Her breasts bounced in the ageold rhythm of hard sex, her skin glistening with sweat as she begged for more from the shadow behind her. Never before had Rath found the sight of a man covering a woman more than vaguely arousing; he’d always preferred to be the one with his cock pounding in and out of the woman’s body. But this, much like her scent, was somehow different and a turn-on in the highest degree. Eve was glorious in her position, her nipples hard, her lips parted, with her hair cascading around her shoulders. She was utterly magnificent in the throes of scalding passion. Intrigued, he moved closer to the bed as the phantom lover spoke.

“Evelina ...” Alrik stopped, startled. His voice ... she was dreaming of his voice. If she didn’t recognize him in the waking world, she at least knew him in her sleep, where her mind was free to know the truth. His cock hardened to pure steel as he realized he was watching Eve fuck him. Her glazed eyes moved to his figure, and he suddenly remembered, too late, that he’d forgotten to meld into the shadows of her dream. Her blazing amber eyes sized him like a huntress would her prey, holding him frozen to the spot. As he watched, mesmerized, she licked her pouting lips and rasped out, “Please.” He knew immediately what she was asking of him and didn’t hesitate. In less than a heartbeat, he was nude and striding toward her. When he reached the gauze-curtained bed, he locked his gaze with hers, his dick jumping as her moans strengthened and her body continued to move. “Me,” he told her, not bothering to censor his words. “It will always be me.” “Yes,” she whispered on a hiss. He didn’t question his need to put his subconscious brand on her; he only knew he had to touch her -- and have her touch him. Moving carefully, he positioned himself underneath her, sliding across the bed so that her swollen lower lips were above his mouth. Reaching out, he drug three large pillows under his head so that he could taste her without having the shadow of himself withdraw. Because the body behind her was merely a phantom, Rath

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couldn’t feel him as Eve did; he only had the impression of a male silhouette pushing in and out of her, promising her, in his voice, every dark, titillating desire she’d ever had. With a determined swipe, Alrik ran his tongue over her ripe slit, humming in delight as her taste invaded his blood. “Take me in your mouth,” he demanded. She complied on a hoarse gasp, sucking him into the heat of her body. The feel of her lips wrapped around his cock, her slightly rough tongue lapping at the taut skin as she began to bob, nearly sent him over the edge. He ground his teeth together to gain control, then dove into her with abandon. Using all the skills he’d amassed during his lifetime, his long tongue flicked over her raised clit as he gently sucked on her swollen flesh. She moaned and wriggled against him, her juices flowing freely as he matched his pace to the phantom cock slamming in and out of her. Barely missing a beat, she swallowed the engorged dick in front of her, impaling her mouth on the hard rod as she was ridden and tasted from behind. Her erect nipples scraped the crisp hairs of his legs, and she gasped at the new pleasure, sucking him harder and faster. They both changed their rhythm to match hers, one cock plunging mercilessly as his tongue flicked fast and feather light over her hard clit. He felt her contract, felt her skin draw inward as her swollen walls began to tremor. He knew she was on the edge of an orgasm. A moment later she cupped his loose testicles and began kneading gently as she increased the pressure on his shaft. Rath growled as she took him to the back of her mouth and caressed his sack, pushing him so close to the precipice that he almost lost the pace with his tongue. He felt her thighs tighten around his face, tasted the subtle change in her flavor, and realized she was walking the same rim of completion. Determined to feel her orgasm, and join her in it, he quickened the pace as he pressed slightly harder on the hard, raised nub. She took him completely down her throat, encasing him in scorching, wet heat. Then she was trembling, her muscles tightening as she bucked and arched. She screamed, his stiff member still crammed in her mouth as she came in one extended and hard orgasm. The moment her come touched his tongue Rath let go, his body bowing as he roared out in mortal pleasure. His cock banged on the back of her throat as he spilled himself into her body in long, strong spurts. Her warm mouth continued to cradle him until he was completely empty, and his limbs were trembling with satisfaction. As her body settled from her orgasm, the shadow behind her dissipated into thin air, leaving behind only Eve and Alrik. She lay comfortably sprawled on his sweaty body, her limbs as slack as molten wax. He ran his hand slowly up her outer thigh, reluctant to break their link, but knowing he had no choice but to do it. He’d already overstepped the bounds he’d tried to impose on himself, and he was afraid that Eve would pay for his uncontrollable behavior. Even as he

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knew he should simply pull himself away from her mind, he again couldn’t seem to stop the words that formed on his lips. “Me, only me,” he reminded her in a soft, gravelly voice. Then with a determined but gentle push he stepped away from her, pulling himself out of her dream and back into reality. He stared at her for a moment longer, admiring her still slick, glowing body as she fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep. Looking down, he noticed the sticky, wet stain on his black slacks. “Damn,” he cursed with a lopsided smile. If he wasn’t careful, Gray was going to catch him in this highly embarrassing situation, and he’d never live it down.

***** The chirping of his cell phone annoyed Gray out of the light sleep he’d managed to fall into. “Damn it to hell!” he cursed, grabbing the device off the heavy wood side table. He flipped the phone open without bothering to look at the number. “She’s fine, Abram. Now leave me the hell alone.” “She told you about the gathering?” the old man asked, dismissing his foul temper. “Yes, she did, and I think you’re an idiot,” he growled. “Yes, perhaps I am,” Abram sighed. “But you will have help that night; the local Venefici circle will be coming. They will help to keep guard over her.” “Yeah, I figured. That’s fine if they can manage to get a spell off if Eve is attacked; otherwise they’ll just be fodder.” “They can help to heal you, if need be, and if you can keep the dark Lamius off of them for even a few seconds, they can ‘manage to get a spell off,’” Abram pointed out. Gray noticed the trace of nerves that tinged the other man’s voice and felt himself soften toward him. He owed so much to Abram Griffin; not just his life, but a true understanding of what he was and what he could become. He hadn’t promised to guard the Sacred Child simply because of what would happen if a dark Lamius found her. He held the old man in genuine affection and high regard, as if he were his father instead of his teacher and mentor. “Look, she’ll be fine, I promise,” he conceded on a deep breath. “I’ll die protecting her, you know that, and if he has to, Rath can hide her in the shadows and take her into the secret passageways of the castle until she can be taken out in the daylight. We’ll take care of her, all of us.” “Yes, yes, I know ... I just ... I regretted letting her do this the moment I gave her permission,” Abram lamented.

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“Don’t feel bad; she has a way of making you want to say yes. Not to mention she’s lonely here, even with me for company,” Gray said, wiping his tired eyes. “But not ... not Alrik,” the other man hedged. “No, not in the daylight,” he replied, deciding to leave out the fact that he knew Rath had visited her dreams. The old man didn’t need to hear about that, or about his granddaughter’s sex life. It was bad enough he, himself, knew. “Good, good. As long as he can protect her in the night ...” “I thought you trusted him.” “Oh, I do, I do ... It’s just that there’s another part of the legend ... no, never mind; I’m just being an overprotective grandfather. I do trust Alrik implicitly, but I’ve also known him since I was a child; he was the one who gave me advice on how to seduce a woman when I was a teenager. I know his weakness is pretty girls, and Evelina is definitely a pretty girl.” “She’s also an adult,” Gray told him. “She knows what she wants and what she doesn’t, and that includes what men she wants to spend time with. Besides, she’s much too strong willed for him to entice unless she wants to be.” There was a moment of silence, then Abram asked stiffly, “Are you trying to tell me something?” “I’m not saying anything, not a damn thing, okay. Just forget it. I’m tired and I need my sleep,” Gray complained. “Fine, go; leave an old man wondering.” He paused, then rushed to say, “Oh, but before you hang up ... I thought I’d warn you that I’m coming to the keep the week after Eve’s party.” The connection went dead, leaving Gray staring in frustration at the small black cell phone. Apparently that was the old man’s way of warning him that Eve would be told the truth very soon. And then the shit would hit the proverbial fan. “Fucking hell!” he bit out, then fell back to the mattress with a resounding thud.

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Chapter Six Eve sank back in the claw-footed tub as sun poured in from the small window above her to dance across the soft peach tiles. Tiny fragrant bubbles exploded against her bare shoulders, gently caressing her warm, wet skin. She wasn’t normally a morning bath type of person; usually she liked to unwind in the hot water at the end of the day. But, her muscles had been aching and her tired limbs had been in desperate need of the relaxation only a full tub could bring. After her dream last night she wasn’t really surprised. Sighing, she closed her eyes and began to relive the erotic feelings and images. Never, never, had she dreamed so realistically -- and certainly never about two lovers taking her at the same time. It had been incredible; from the moment she’d felt the hard cock slide inside of her to the minute the other man had slid underneath her sweating body and begun to taste her so expertly. Even now, with her eyes shut tight and her mind drifting dreamily, she could still feel the sensation of someone pushing into her from behind as an agile tongue worked her and a hard shaft drove in and out of her moist mouth. It had been amazing the way all three of them had ridden to the same erotic rhythm. If only she could have that dream every night of her life -- but only if she could have the explosive, satisfying ending as well. A girl could always hope, she thought with a wide smile. On a shaky, contented breath, she let her body go completely lax and floated into sleep.

***** Rath knew he wasn’t dreaming when the visions invaded his sleep, but he was helpless to stop them. Memories hundreds of years old assaulted him, drawing him back to his brash youth, when he believed his human life was indestructible. He’d craved action, needed the potent rush of adrenaline that came with battle and the clashing of swords.

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His mind conjured up the image of his sad-eyed mother, the fear that had colored her words and lain in the fine lines of her pretty face. Even her past as a Gaelic slave hadn’t prepared her for such bone crushing anxiety and fear. His father had stood beside his mother that long ago day, his handsome English features set in stoic sorrow. He had understood his oldest son’s yearning, even if he hadn’t condoned it. But he’d also known that the lure of the Crusades was hard to resist, especially for a man of twenty-four who had nothing, save the thought of living up to the legend of his father’s sword crafting, to bind him. Alrik had yet to find the woman who would capture his heart, he had no children or home; but he did have the envied reputation of being an excellent swordsman. Rath remembered looking back that bright spring day, gazing over his shoulder at the pretty ivy coated cottage and the tall trees that grew around it. He’d stared back at his parents as he trotted away on his dappled stallion, the weight of his bedroll, bags, and armor doing nothing to slow the horse’s progress. He’d believed he’d see them again, that he’d come back victorious and covered with acclaim to take over his father’s blacksmithing business and start a family of his own. He’d had no real idea of what he would live through and what he would become. Images of the battles he’d fought, the people he’d killed, the wounds he’d survived, and the friends he’d lost morphed together like a fast-forwarded movie. Five years -- he had been bound to the foreign Holy War for five long years. On his twenty-ninth birthday he’d helped to lead his troop to one small victory by gutting their enemy’s commander. He’d felt no happiness from his deed or the adulation he’d received. There had been no relief; there had only been a soul deep sadness that he’d taken the life of yet another human being. He’d begun to question what they were doing, why they were murdering the Moors, and how God could condone such horrific behavior from His children. He had never spoken a word of his growing doubt; to do so would have been heresy in the church’s eyes, and treason in the eyes of his king. So he’d kept his questions to himself and had let them sit and fester in his mind. He hadn’t had very long to ponder his painful thoughts. His fellow soldiers had begun to become mentally undone from the horrors they’d witnessed and committed, from near starvation and from a wildness caused by unsanitary conditions. They would march for miles, camp wherever they fell, and hope someone would be able to catch something for their dinner. They had been constantly on guard against attack, taking turns in their dwindling numbers to stand and watch for their vicious enemies while the others had tried to rest. They’d all been away from civilization for far too long, but going home had somehow ceased to be an option. As his dreams sketched in the hideous smells, the worn, haggard faces and the vacant eyes of his comrades, his naked body twisted in the cool sheets. The pictures blurred and

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hazed, melding into an almost tangible fog. When the thick mist finally cleared, he found himself standing in a darkened clearing in front of a small, oddly decorated house. There were white pendants with strange red slashes painted on them hanging on each side of the door; a cluster of small cylinders hung on one of the porch beams, making sweet sounds as the late evening breeze blew them together. His fellow soldiers had stared along with him at the wooden house, stopping the ragtag troop’s movements as they gawked at the structure standing alone in the wilderness. Then someone had let out a loud cry as they spotted the lush garden in the backyard. “Food! Food!” The word had spread like rolling thunder as dozens of wary, battle fatigued men descended on the fresh vegetables. Alrik had watched, detached and strangely detested, as the men he had fought beside shoved raw beans, potatoes, and onions in their mouths, not even bothering to wipe the dirt from the food. “What is it you want?” Even in his dreams the voice still startled him. He’d turned to see a small, bald, yellow-skinned man standing beside him. The stranger had been dressed in a sheet that had been draped over one shoulder. Rath had thought they must have interrupted his bath. “Sir, they are hungry,” he’d point out passionlessly. “But they have not asked,” the little farmer had commented, giving him a strangely intense look. “You are right, they did not.” He hadn’t thought to wonder how the man understood and spoke English; he’d been too tired to care. The two of them had stood in silence as they watched the soldiers gorge themselves; then one of the young Crusaders had caught sight of the unarmed man. “Heathen!” The curse had rung over the clattering of armor and weapons, bringing several eyes around to the small front porch. Everything for Alrik had slowed to a crawl, the movements of his comrades seeming to come through an invisible layer of water. As the first of them had raised their sword, something inside of him had broken with a cold, clean snap. It had all been too much, the killing, the slaughtering, but to see men charging a small, helpless farmer had been the final break. A roar had erupted from his throat, a primal, vicious sound that had caused the other men’s momentum to slow for a moment, but not to pause or stop. Alrik had drawn his sword and placed himself in front of the farmer, no longer caring whether he lived or died. He’d learned there were worse fates than being released from the mortal world. The images blurred and shifted in his memories; he had been too filled with blinding fury for his mind to focus. He remembered the clash of metal on metal, the taste of sweat, the smell of blood, and bodies falling at his feet. Then there had been a sharp, cold pain that

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had burned through his gut; when he’d looked down, he’d seen a sword protruding through a weak part of his chain mail. He had fallen to his knees, lost beneath the rush of feet as he bled copiously. As he’d sunk to his side on the wooden planking, he had thought of his childhood, of his three brothers, of his parents, and of the men he’d killed in the name of God. There was no priest, he’d thought as the world turned to shades of gray. He hadn’t minded; he’d known he deserved purgatory or worse for his sins. The next memory he had was of waking up on a soft, fresh pallet in a meticulously clean, darkly shaded room. He’d turned his head slowly, not sure of where he was or why he was still breathing. There, sitting in a small wooden chair beside him, had been the calmly smiling farmer. “You are awake, Alrik Rath.” He’d tried to speak, had found his throat unable to form words, and had immediately been given a glass of cold water. As the farmer had helped him sip the blessedly wet liquid, he had spoken in a soft, reassuring voice. “I felt your strength the moment I saw you. I knew who you were. I sensed it right away.” He’d carefully taken the cup away and gently laid Rath’s head back on the pallet. “You will have many questions, Crusader, and I will answer them all.” He’d then gently pulled a soft cover over Rath’s still battered body. “Rest now, and I will be here when you begin to crave.” Alrik had given him a confused look, to which Chin Lo had simply smiled serenely. “When you wake again, I will explain,” he’d said softly. “I am Chin Lo Wang, and I will be your teacher.”

***** Eve jerked awake, splashing the now lukewarm water onto the floor as her heart raced. The nightmare had been so damn real, from the odd accents to the taste of dirt and blood in her mouth. She’d felt the give of flesh and bone under the crush of the broad sword she’d swung, felt the mortal wound dealt by a man whose life she somehow knew she’d saved several times. Then there had been the strange farmer, the man who had been, she realized now, a Shao Lin monk. Shaking her head, she tried to clear the lingering horror that still clung to her like wet tarpaper. Imagination, she thought; she had simply created a story around the history she loved so much. Still, it didn’t explain the Asian monk or the fact that the name he had spoken seemed eerily familiar. “Alrik Rath,” she whispered, then touched her damp lips with her fingertips when the plump flesh tingled.

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***** “Damn it to hell!” Cain’s bellow echoed off the heavy wood walls of the study as he slammed his fist down on the secretary’s desk in front of him. Books jumped and tumbled as papers skittered over the vicious air current and pens and pencils scattered onto the floor. Iliana watched it all from just beyond the doorway, her pale-blue eyes peeking through a small crack in the doors, a dark and satisfied smile playing on her lush mouth. Cain was undeniably handsome, from his wavy brown hair, to the taut muscles that chorded just under his white wifebeater, to the soft, over-washed jeans that hung low on his hips. He was certainly an excellent bed partner; not as exceptional as her creator, who’d been the first attentive lover she’d ever had; but then, he couldn’t have offered her what Cain York did -- a chance to find the Sacred Child. With the shared blood that ran through him from a very distant familial connection with the Sacred Child he’d been the answer to all her wishes. He was close, so very close, to finding out where the bitch had been secreted away; they would know where she was in due time, and it would be before August first, the Lammas holiday -- the Sacred Child’s birthday. And then ... oh, then she’d know the power of stealing the potent blood and becoming the mythical dark creature known as the Ralarati, a feat that no black Lamius had ever accomplished. He swore again as he slammed his fist into the heavy wood wall, attempting to vent a small part of his rage. He was off balance and furiously angry, which was an excellent thing for her. He would be easier to control, easier to prey upon if his emotions were kept at the volatile level. In fact, she often irritated him just so he would stay precariously balanced on that fine edge of control. It wasn’t just fun, it was productive, and Iliana believed in being productive in all she did. “Fucking bastard! Damn fucking bastard!” he continued to yell. Seizing her opportunity, Iliana slunk into the expensively appointed room, her short red nightgown fluttering seductively around her thighs. “Oh, love, who’s made you so upset?” she cooed as she swayed to where he stood. He turned narrowed eyes toward the intruder, biting back a wave of annoyance as the willowy blond skimmed her fingernails down his bare arm. He weighed the decision of whether or not to tell her exactly whom he’d been ranting about, taking a moment to consider what might happen if he said their creator’s name. Quickly, he decided against it, both to keep her from feeling betrayal and to stop the inevitable slow-witted interrogation he’d be subjected to.

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“Whoever is keeping her blocked from me. I can feel her, I know she’s there, but someone is deliberately blocking my path,” he explained absently, clenching his jaw as he dismissed the subject by turning his gaze away from her to stare into near space. “Her? Who do you -- oh, you mean the Sacred Child,” she replied, sounding slightly disinterested. “Well, I’m sure that you will find your way back into her mind.” Chuckling, he gave his attention back to Iliana, her blind faith in his abilities giving him a heady sense of superiority. His fury still rode high in his blood, but her belief in him helped to soothe his temper a small bit. “I will, Ana, for both of us,” he promised as he lifted his hand to twirl a strand of her soft hair. “Um, well, only if you really want to,” she replied distractedly as she slipped her body closer to his. “I just can’t stand to see you so upset.” Cain stared down into her face, taken in by her swirling gaze and slightly pouting mouth. The feel of her breasts pressed so firmly against his chest, her features flushed with growing sexual heat, her warmth oozing into him, brought his cock to immediate and full life. The anger that still boiled just underneath the surface suddenly found a new and extremely pleasurable outlet. “And how would you suggest I forget my disappointment?” She quirked one mischievous eyebrow and pursed her lips, the corners of her mouth tipping slightly. “Oh, I think that maybe you should ... relax.” “Relax?” he asked, his voice tinged with sensual amusement. “Yes, relax,” she purred, lifting her hands to encircle his neck. “Why don’t I show you exactly what I mean ...” She lifted herself to her tiptoes, rubbing her moist lips against his in slow, drawn-out movements. He let her take him, enjoyed the way she was seizing the lead in seducing him. She snaked her tongue out, laved the seam of his mouth with a tantalizing lick, then nipped her way down his chin. He groaned when her teeth scraped the rough skin of his jaw, then his neck, leaving behind a slight sting that sang through his system. Slowly, her hands released his neck and skimmed down his muscled shoulders, her soft touch sliding over to flick his rising nipples through the ribbed material of his shirt. He shuddered in response, hissing as fire shot straight to his crotch. “Oh, I think you like that,” Iliana laughed throatily. “Let’s see if I can find something else that will ... distract you.” He let out a rumbling growl as her mouth descended to his chest, giving his thinly covered torso little love bites as she moved down his body. As her deft fingers worked the button of his jeans loose, he let his head fall back, anticipating the pleasure she was about to give him.

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Iliana knew exactly what he liked and what he wanted; she’d made a study of his sexual preferences during their years together, and she’d enjoyed it immensely. If nothing else, when they were having sex she didn’t have to play at being the idiotic female who was so easily led. She sank to her knees, bringing his jeans and briefs down with her. His cock sprang full and heavy from its bindings, its length an enticing span in front of her eyes. She felt herself begin to moisten as she thought of his taste, of the way his shaft slid so smoothly and easily in and out of her mouth. She paused a moment and cast a quick, cattish glance up, satisfied with the way his breathing labored through his chest and his skin glowed with sexual need. She purred as she thought of him waiting, his heart hammering in anticipation of her heated touch. The moment she sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth she heard the air rush into his lungs, the sensation of his thick, warm, rod gliding into her welcoming orifice so indescribably erotic that heated moisture gathered quickly between her thighs. She hummed as she slipped him completely into her mouth, wrapping him from head to root in a scorching cocoon. She heard him hiss again in mindless approval and felt her clit respond with immediate, pulsing delight. Adding her groan to his, she slowly maneuvered her free hand down her stomach and into her wet panties, her fingers unerringly finding her hardened nub. With anticipation racing through her veins, she began to set a fast, steady pace with her mouth and her fingertips. She suctioned him deeper, harder, grinding his cock into her throat as she lost herself to the abandon of pleasuring them both. She felt the rising tide of her orgasm and reached for it, gently flicking her clit with a steady, whisper light touch that tormented her higher. She could taste the beginnings of Cain’s climax, the tang adding a new layer of passion to her desire. She pushed him harder, faster, licking the underside of his shaft as she continued to bob up and down. She felt the tremble begin in her thighs, the quickening of her orgasm tightening her inner walls and the muscles in her stomach, drawing them into small fists for one excruciating moment. The instant she found herself slipping from the jagged edge of completion, she heard the man above her let out a deep strangled cry, his body bowing into her mouth as his cock began to spasm. When his come touched her tongue she let go, crashing into her climax with vicious, jerking certainty. As she swallowed the liquid that coated her mouth, she gently ran her fingers over her inflamed lips, soothing herself as she licked and eased Cain He stared down at the top of her head, his ragged breathing echoing through the still room. Reaching out, he tenderly caressed Iliana’s hair, giving her a lopsided smile as she finished cleaning him with her tongue and raised her eyes to his. “You always know how to take care of me,” he rasped, moving back a step as she lifted herself from the floor.

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“I like taking care of you,” she said, her voice thick with sensuality. “It’s so much ... fun.” He laughed softly at her choice of words, then drew her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the aftershocks of her orgasm and the bright waves of power that still washed through her blood. “You can have as much ‘fun’ as you want with me, Ana,” he said as he nuzzled her ear. “But first, I think you should feed. You’re always ravenous after a good orgasm.” She pulled away from him, giving him the most innocently hurt look she could conjure. “Just me, by myself? But aren’t you hungry?” Tilting his head, he studied her for a moment with tolerant eyes and finally shook his head slowly. “You know, I think I am,” he conceded. “Why don’t you go get dressed? Something hot, maybe leather. I’ll take you clubbing after we hunt.” She gave a delighted laugh and placed a quick kiss on his mouth. As she hurried from the room, she allowed her expression to drop, going from girlish pleasure to pleased feminine power. He had done exactly as she’d wanted by promising to come out with her tonight. She couldn’t leave him alone searching for the Sacred Child, because if he found her he would be too tempted to go away immediately, and if Iliana weren’t there, she was almost positive he’d go without her. She’d be stranded here in this massive house without a clue as to where the legendary Sacred Child was ... and without a prayer of finding her in time to take her power rich blood for herself.

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Chapter Seven Evelina practically floated down into the kitchen; humming to herself, she flitted to one of the cabinets and opened one light wood door. She gracefully pulled down a bone white plate and slid it onto the white tiled counter with practiced ease. Gray watched her with a careful gaze, studying her elegant features as she began to make herself what could only be described as a Dagwood sandwich. He had smelled her warm flesh all the way outside and could easily detect the spicy, musky essence of sex surrounding her. Since there wasn’t a man’s scent lingering on her, it was obvious who’d provided her with that particular outlet. Biting back his immediate response, Gray took a deep, steadying breath and fought back the tension headache that had begun to creep up his neck. Forcing a calm look onto his face, he took a slow step forward and into the bright afternoon sunlight that flooded the room. “Good afternoon, Eve,” he said smoothly, lifting an eyebrow when he saw her jump. “Oh, my God, Gray,” she gasped breathlessly, a hand over her pounding heart, “you scared the hell out of me.” “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you. I thought you saw me come in.” Letting out a soft chuckle, she dropped her hand and shook her head slowly, her face seeping a guilty red. “No, no, that’s okay,” she replied. “I guess I was ... distracted.” “Um, seems like,” he responded as he moved to stand on the other side of the kitchen island. “So, what has you so happy today?” “Oh, nothing really. I guess I just slept well ... really well,” she finished in a barely heard voice. But Gray’s hearing was much more sensitive than a regular human’s, and for him the words might just as well have been shouted. “Maybe the Irish air is finally agreeing with you,” he said pleasantly, keeping his underlying fury banked. “So, are you almost ready for the party?”

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“Yep, I’m lining everything and everyone up,” she told him, pulling down another plate. “It’s going to be a long day, but it’s going to be a lot of fun. I’m going to have to be up and about early Saturday; the caterer will be here in the morning to start setting up, but I won’t let them put the tables out until an hour before the party is supposed to start.” He watched her through steady hazel eyes, taking in her movements as she proceeded to make him his own sandwich. It was a sign of her own unknown power that she knew instinctively that he was hungry. Interesting, he thought, but right now it wasn’t the most important thing. Her grandfather would be the one to explain the situation to her, to prepare her for who and what she was and her inevitable fate. His job, his one and only job, was to watch out for Eve and to take care of her. And Rath was making it almost impossible. “Are you inviting anyone special?” she asked, shattering his thoughts. “Um, anyone special?” he repeated dumbly. “Yeah, special,” she teased with a charmingly crooked smile. “Someone you’ve been seeing, or would like to see?” “Like a ... a girlfriend?” She snorted back a loud laugh, and Gray knew he hadn’t managed to hide the distaste in his comment. He tried not to scowl at her obvious amusement as she carefully spread mayonnaise on the top of his bread while carefully averting her dancing eyes. “Well, yeah,” she answered. “You’re young, you’re handsome, you have a good job, you’re a great kisser, and you’re single. You can’t tell me there’s not a pretty woman in Kilney that interests you.” It was Gray’s turn to become quiet and secretive, his face hidden from her as he looked down and away. It had pierced him, as it always did, to have someone ask him about the woman in his life. There had been someone once, someone he’d loved with a quiet desperation, someone he’d been willing to give up his world to be with, but then -Then reality had set in, and he’d had to make a choice that had completely changed his life ... and that of everyone around him. He hadn’t done what he’d been accused of, but still he had been the one whose actions had caused the tragedy, a tragedy that had broken his heart and his soul and had sent him here, to Ireland, to Abram. He had only one regret in his life, and the woman he still loved was it. He watched as Evelina allowed her eyes to skim up his face slowly, trying carefully not to get caught studying him. He knew what she saw; his face was tense now, the lines thick as he struggled with his memories. Gray averted his eyes as she bit her bottom lip in concern. “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter,” she sighed easily. “There will be so many people here that you’ll have more than your share of willing dancing partners.” “Dancing? Oh, no, I suck at dancing,” he protested, providing a quick excuse. “Um, we’ll see,” she answered, sliding his plate under his nose. “Now, eat. You need energy for all that manly stuff you do around the estate.”

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He dove into his food, his stomach growling as the taste of the well-crafted sandwich exploded over his tongue. His gaze stayed on her, watching her vigilantly as he sated his body’s needs, still unsure about what was happening with her. He had a growing suspicion that he didn’t want to name, was afraid to put a name to in truth. While he could tell that Rath hadn’t physically touched her, at least the night before, he had most definitely done something to her, something sexual, something that still had her glowing. “Do you think this castle is haunted?” He almost choked on his sandwich at her question. Haunted? Shit, had her powers bled through so much that she could feel a vampire as old and as practiced as Alrik Rath? Or had the spirits of the past Venefici already begun to call to her? If either were happening, then she would figure it all out in a matter of days, and they’d all be screwed. Especially if she became so hurt that her abilities spilled out uncontrolled. “Haunted? What kind of question is that?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “Oh, I guess it’s nothing, really,” she hedged, pushing at the potato chips on her plate. “I just wondered. I mean, could you imagine a man who might have lived here in the middle ages, riding off to the Crusades, full of the fire of youth. What must it have been like to come back home, to this keep, after years of being away, killing the enemy, watching the people around you die?” Gray thought he might swallow his tongue. Damn it, she’d seen too much. Somehow she’d gotten a glimpse into Rath’s mind, seen his past, and, God help them all, by the look on her face she’d become infatuated with him. “This castle is in Ireland, Eve,” he pointed out slowly. “I don’t think the owner, or anyone that might have lived here, had anything to do with the Crusades.” She paused for a moment as if she were considering his words, then finally lifted her gaze and smiled at her friend. “You’re right, I guess I was just being romantic. Must be the Irish air,” she teased. He tried to grin back, biting his tongue to keep from spewing out thick, heavy curses. Damn it to hell, he didn’t want to, but he was going to beat Rath’s ass.

***** Alrik floated into his dreams, hopping in and out on the gray, smoky wisps of sleep. When his mind finally settled, he was lying on a deep cushioned bed surrounded by dark maroon covers and thick pillows. His body was covered with sweat, his skin beaded with the salty water that rolled down his limbs in tiny rivulets. The feel of a hot, soft body between his legs brought his mind into sharp and sudden focus. His fingers flexed, digging into pliant, musky scented flesh, and he felt his hard cock jump in reaction. His eyes scanned up, taking in the lightly tanned torso, the long, lean arms, the large, globed breasts tipped with dusky nipples, the elegant line of her throat, the

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stubborn jaw line, the long spill of rich, honey-brown hair, the high, aristocratic cheekbones, and, finally, the lust hazed golden brown eyes.

Evelina, his mind whispered, then splintered when she sank on top of him. His rigid shaft slid smoothly into her with one smooth stroke, her juices creating a slick coat over his throbbing cock. He growled as she set the tempo, hard and steady, while she rode him. He felt her squeeze, her swollen walls engulfing him as she pushed up and down, up and down, creating a liquefying friction that numbed his mind to everything but their love making. Her thighs trembled against his, her hands skimming over his damp chest as she mewed and bowed above him. Reaching out, he cupped her breasts in his hands, kneaded and squeezed them, and plucked at the pebble hard nipples. She gasped and hissed in response, her muscles contracting, milking him wantonly. She rode harder, faster, picking up the pace as she pumped and bucked. She was building, balancing them both on the harsh border of release, their orgasms boiling just under the skin. “Alrik!” Her scream erupted, ricocheting off the walls as she stretched and bent. “Oh, oh, oh God! I’m coming! I’m -- I --” Her words ground down into raw groans and cries as she spasmed around his cock, clutching him rhythmically as she gushed around him. He felt himself contract as waves of near completion shot through him in a vicious surge. He began to explode, to send full surges of hot liquid into her, when her face moved just above his. When he saw her, his cock stilled, the come strangled inside of him as Evelina’s features morphed into another woman, a woman he’d thought to never see again. A woman who had once chased him in his dreams and then in his nightmares. A woman who was the embodiment of everything he’d ever fought against, in his life before and in his life now.

Iliana. Roaring in sheer anger, he shoved at her, pushing her off his body as he rolled and bounded off the bed. Her eyes followed him; her sin red lips tilted in a mocking smile as her wheat blond hair cascaded over her shoulders. “Miss me, Rath?” she asked, laughter tracing her husky voice. He lunged toward her -- and was pulled, literally, from the dream world. Stunned and disoriented, he stared up at the person who dared to attack him like this as the cold from the wooden floor seeped into his back. “Damn it, Rath, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gray growled, his hazel eyes glowing with an unholy light. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?” he shot back, jumping up as quickly as he could.

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“You bastard, you’ve linked to her!” Gray shouted. “You know you can’t do that! You know you can’t resist that kind of temptation!” “Fuck you, Gray!” “It’s not me you’ve been fucking!” His fist flew out so quickly that Gray didn’t see it until it connected with his jaw. Rath stood, his breath heaving, his naked body gleaming in the dark of the turret room. “I don’t fuck her!” he yelled back. Gray stared at Rath with hard eyes. “Shit, vamp,” he rasped as he ran a broad hand down his face. “You can’t do this. You just can’t.” “Can’t do this? What are you talking about?” Rath panted. “You can’t want her. You know how dangerous it is to do that. The lure to take her blood, to take her life force ... it’s too powerful for any vampire to walk away from,” Gray said softly. “You’ll destroy her, all of us, if you do this.” “I haven’t done anything to Eve that she didn’t want done. She needed a reason to stay, needed a reason not to wander away. The old man’s spells are powerful, but even uninitiated she has more power in her little finger than he does in his whole damned body. If she really wanted to walk past those gates, all it would take is a strong need; I’ve made sure she doesn’t have one.” “And you’ve linked yourself to her.” “A few times --” “No, you bastard, you’re linked to her, even when you’re not trying.” Gray’s revelation brought a thick moment of silence before he continued. “Do you know what that means? You’ve gone and imprinted yourself on her, Lamius, and she never had a choice.” “No, no, we’re not, we’re --” “You fucking idiot! Yes, you have, and yes, you are! She’s walking around with you in her head now. She saw your past, Rath, she knows.” Alrik let out a loud, heavy sigh as he sank onto his bed, cradling his head in his hands as he tried to absorb what Eve’s other guardian had said. Was it possible? Had he unknowingly seared himself into her mind? But the only way for that to happen was for the Lamius to will it, and he hadn’t ... then he remembered. The dream.

“Me, only me ...” Oh, hell, and she’d obviously wanted it, too, or else she could have easily willed his presence away. She was powerful enough, strong enough to do it. But she was lonely, he reminded himself; Evelina was a social creature that thrived on the people around her. And he’d insinuated himself into her dreams to keep her happy, to keep her here and safe. That was the only reason, he assured himself, that he’d allowed this game to go on. “You have to stop,” Gray told him softly.

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“No, no, I can’t,” he denied before thinking. “She needs me.” Rath stood, undaunted, as he watched the other man shake his head slowly. He knew he was acting in an unbelievably irrational way, but he couldn’t seem to control himself. “You can’t allow yourself to care for her like this,” he said quietly. “You know you can’t. It could kill all of us.” “No, no, I won’t let myself to be tempted. I’ve been with her this long and I haven’t felt the slip of my control over the hunger --” “Then you’re lying or you’re damned lucky,” Gray bit out. “How long do you think you can be with her, even in her dreams, and not be able to taste her?” “I’ve been with human women and not tasted them,” Rath spat back. “And they weren’t Venefici, were they? And you weren’t around when the last Sacred Veneficus was born, were you? You’ve never had to deal with something like this before; how can you say you won’t be tempted, ever? And, who’s to say that she’ll want you when she knows who she is ... and who you are?” Rath surged to his feet, his fists tight at his sides as his body quivered with nerves and anger. Blood rushed through his veins in hard, hot currents as he glared at the man in front of him. “And what if she does want me?” he hissed. “What if she does choose to continue these late night dreams? What if she decides to fuck me in the flesh? What will you do, kill me?” “If it means saving the human race, the lycan race, and every other race that is just trying to survive? Yes, without hesitation.” His answer brought Rath back to reality like a frigid ice bath. He was being unreasonable, putting the world at risk by being with Eve. And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t make himself walk away from her. Even with the world as he knew it in the balance, he couldn’t deny himself her touch, her feel, her taste and scent. “Then I’ll be prepared to die,” he ground out, his eyes flashing with equal parts fury and confusion. Gray let out a deep breath as he studied the man standing so defensively across from him. He saw it in his gaze, knew the truth of it and understood Rath’s uncertainty about the feelings that were embedding themselves inside of him. He’d been in the other man’s place before and recognized the kind of hellish war that was just beginning to be waged within the vampire. He knew, too, that whatever the outcome, Rath would never be with the woman he wanted so badly. He understood what it was to be gripped with that kind of torturous longing, and so he turned from the room, leaving the brooding man to suffer and question himself in silence.

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Chapter Eight Eve slunk into her room and shut the heavy wooden door behind her, leaning against it as she let out a long sigh. She’d worked most of the day in the garden, soaking in the sunshine as she’d nurtured the flowers and plants. She was covered with the dirt and soil that she so readily dug in. Smiling despite her exhaustion and the state of her clothes, she slowly pushed herself firmly onto her feet, took in her streaked and stained jean shorts and sunny yellow shirt, and headed toward the bathroom. The last of the sun’s rays sent bright, multicolored patches through the stained glass window, creating beautiful patterns on the stone floor and blue decorative rug. Alrik stood in the shadows between the room and the wall, his senses alert to her every move. He could smell her, the mixed aroma of sunshine, rich earth and the sweet essence that was strictly Eve. He heard the sound of her shower and felt the almost overwhelming urge to ride the shadows into her bathroom and watch her lather and rinse the delectable skin that so pleasantly wrapped her lush body. Gritting his teeth, he fought back the voice in his head that warned him away, the voice that sounded too much like Gray’s. Damn it, he wasn’t going to lose himself in her; there was too much at stake for him to let his sexual needs override his common sense. He’d managed to avoid the dark singing of his blood so far, and he didn’t see why it should be otherwise in the weeks to come. After all, her birthday wasn’t that far away, a little less than a month, and then she would ascend, take her place as the most powerful magical being on earth, and he would go back to his old haunts. The thought brought a sudden cold, hollow gap to the pit of his stomach, a feeling he’d never experienced before, and one he didn’t particularly want to analyze. What the hell was wrong with him? He was having an enjoyable, sexually fulfilling, interlude with a woman who, at least in her dreams, was more than willing to participate. Of course, enjoyable was an understatement, he thought; it was more like awe-inspiring. He’d

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been alive for centuries and no one had ever affected him in this way. It had snuck up like a well-versed thief. Hell, if Gray hadn’t forced him to face why he couldn’t stop his late night mental trysts with Eve, he would’ve been hit with these feelings when she’d left to fulfill her destiny ... without him. But now he knew with certainty that they were tied by more than simple sex. They were bonded, had been since that first time; and a mental melding was something more binding than anything she’d have ever known. She was experiencing his dreams now, seeing his past, feeling his pain, and all the years of war that had molded him. Damn it, what was he supposed to do with this? He was a vampire, for God’s sake, a creature of the night who wasn’t supposed to become entwined with human beings. His job had been simple: watch Evelina, make sure she stayed safely out of the dark Lamius’s hands, and stay out of her sight. He’d been sure he could accomplish all of that, and he had. However, he hadn’t expected this woman to be so ... so ... alluring. Even as he cursed himself, he heard her slightly off key voice ring out in a sweet, melodious song. The lyrics were full of bittersweet longing, the words sad and tender and very Irish. Before he realized what was happening, his lips had tilted into an indulgent smile. She was charming, he thought, even when she believed she was alone. Before he could analyze his own actions, Rath melted through the castle, following the hidden passages to the garden that Eve tended so diligently. He scanned the flourishing greenery and vivid, sleeping colors of the flowers until he spotted what he was searching for. Jasmine, its stems stretching imperiously toward the bright moon, stood in elegant relief as its petals opened to absorb the silvery rays from the night sky. With a swiftly gentle movement, he pulled several blooms and spun back toward the hold. He blended through the shadows of the old stone castle and floated through the in-between, taking the flowers with him as he hurried back to her room. Listening carefully, he snuck toward her massive bed, the small clutch of jasmine securely in his hand. Just as he heard Eve turn the shower off, he laid the delicate blooms on the heavy wooden nightstand and bled back into the world of darkness. Eve meandered back into the bedroom, a thick blue towel wrapped snuggly around her as she ran her fingers through her damp hair. She was relaxed and eased as she always was after having her hands in the garden, but she was also humming with anticipation. After the dreams she’d been having lately, she actually looked forward to sleeping, even if it meant being tired the next day. Tomorrow was going to be extremely hectic, and she knew she definitely needed her rest, but she still couldn’t help hoping to have another wonderfully intense sexual dream. She’d never experienced anything so mind numbingly satisfying, not even in the real, waking world. That thought should shock or at least worry her, but for some unknown reason it didn’t. It almost felt ... right; as if she shouldn’t be worrying at all

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about wanting to drop into her bed at night hoping for the phantom man that made her body burn. Shivering and sighing, she wandered to the other side of the room and opened the bottom drawer of her armoire. Pulling out a short lacy nightgown, she dropped the towel and slithered into the cool material. Not bothering with panties, she picked the wet cotton wrap from the floor and headed back toward the bathroom, her need to be tidy an ingrained habit. As she passed the bed, the scent of jasmine coiled around her, tickling her nose with its deep, rich aroma. Stopping abruptly, she turned to follow the smell, only to find a small clutch of the beautiful heavy petals of her favorite flora. There, sitting in tender silence against the dark polish of her side table, they lay regally. Strange, she thought, she hadn’t seen them there before. But then, her mind had been extremely distracted lately. One of the maids must have brought them in to cheer up the harsh stone room. Humming softly, she cradled the flowers in her hand and carried them to an empty silver vase that stood on her dresser. She dropped them in before carefully balancing the feminine column of silver in her hand and retreating back into the bathroom, her small peach gown quivering around her thighs. Rath watched her move, his eyes drinking in her fluid actions as she disappeared into her bathroom for a moment, reappearing with the flowers and vase. She smiled gently as she inhaled the jasmine again, and he felt his heart lighten. What was it about her, about the way she reacted to even the simplest of things, that made his body ache for her? He’d never ached before, never needed something or someone so desperately. Even his craving for blood hadn’t reached this kind of desperate fever, a kind of insidious virus that weaved its way through his veins and sprouted roots in his non-existent soul. His eyes followed Eve as she settled under the crisp, wind-dried sheets of her bed, staying in focus even after she shut off the amber light of the side lamp. He heard her ease and settle, felt her shift and sigh; then slowly, carefully, she began to drift toward sleep. It was in those few gray moments in the twilight of her slumber when he spoke to her, using his voice in her mind. He was careful to keep her in her slightly sleep-soaked state, making sure she didn’t wake too far and wonder at the disembodied voice that was floating into her. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice hypnotically warm. “Your body is exquisite.” He felt her melt into his words, her body becoming soft and pliant as her skin began to glow with heat. She rolled, held herself still, then moved her thighs slightly apart. She looked as if she were waiting for him, just him, and the thought drove him on. “If I were lying with you I’d touch every piece of skin that covers you,” he continued, his breathing becoming deep. “I know you think of me when you touch yourself, of the

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perfect man that can make you feel every caress, that can make you die and live with one, small touch. You think of me, you hold onto me, even in your dreams.” Alrik felt the overwhelming need to have her realize, even in her near dream state, that he was the man who made her feel so sensually alive. He needed the knowledge that what he was going to coax her into doing was for him. More, more, he heard her mind chant. She thrashed for a moment, reaching out for him, then eased again. He very nearly came to her, stopping his movement at the last moment. “Let me feel you, let me see you. Touch yourself for me, touch yourself the way you know I want to touch you,” he rasped, almost desperate now to see her come. Her tongue snuck out to wet her lips, leaving them glistening in the moonlight. He wanted her to touch herself, needed her to do it. He wanted to watch her, to take pleasure in her in a way that he’d never wanted to enjoy a woman before. She would come for him, he thought, and shuddered at the idea. She slid her hands slowly down her body, skimming over her breasts. “No, no, stop. Enjoy your breasts, weigh them, yes, like that. Oh, yes, knead them, gently ... You feel it don’t you? I know you do. It’s the way you become hot and wet when I hold them, the way you twist and groan when I squeeze them. The pliant skin, the hard nipples ... It makes my cock rock-hard when I feel them. Umm ... yes, yes, like that. Pinch your nipples, pinch them ... harder.” She did as he bid, gasping as she squeezed the tender flesh. She bit her bottom lip and her hips rose voluntarily, as if waiting to be filled with a man’s hard member. He could see her lips swell, engorging with need as moisture began to dew the springy hair. “You’re hot now, aren’t you?” his voice, gravelly now, flitted like smoke over her thoughts. “Move the sheet for me, let me see it all. Yes, love, yes, that’s it. I can smell you; I can practically feel you. Move your hand now, Eve, move to your thighs.” She did as he said and trailed her fingertips along her creamy flesh, scraping circles, small and sensual, over the goosebumps that had risen there. “Umm, yes, exactly right. Feel your skin, feel how it’s turned warm, waiting, just waiting, knowing. I can see it glowing, see the sweat that makes it moist.” He let his own hand drift over her image before lowering to the large bulge in his pants. Without ceremony, he pulled himself free and began to stroke, keeping pace with Eve’s own self loving. “Now, Eve, it’s time to move your hand to your mound now,” he commanded, sucking in his breath as he watched her fingers inch over to cover her pulsing lips. As her fingertips began to sink in, he halted her. “No, wait, wait. Cup yourself, feel yourself. Feel how scorching you are, feel how wet, how quickly your body responds to what it needs. You are beautiful like this, Evelina, a goddess as you lay there, flushed with your need for release.” She whimpered as she handled her sex, her butt moving back and forth as she rode, waiting for him to allow her the ultimate act. His lungs hissed as his dick jumped in his grip.

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She mesmerized him, made him as careless with his orgasms as a randy teenaged boy. God, if he wasn’t already dead she would have killed him. “Now, Eve, take what you need now.” She did as he said immediately, her face bright with pleasure. She plunged her fingers into herself, moaning as one finger was joined by another. She rode her hand hard and fast, her body lurching and bucking as she manipulated herself. Her breasts swelled to their complete fullness, her nipples peaking into hard points as she growled with erotic desire. In the shadows behind the wall he watched her, his fist tight around his cock as he pumped with her, his balls tingling as his orgasm rushed through his veins. He held on, waited for her, his shaft hot and heavy against his knuckles. “Your clit, rub your clit,” he ordered her, barely hiding the hitch in his sex-heavy voice. Her other hand snaked down her side, joining the first as she did as she was told. She hissed, moaned and writhed, delighting him as she struggled to find her orgasm. “Faster, Eve, rub faster ... a light touch ... that’s it, exactly, yes ...” He saw her toes curl as her thighs lifted and her knees bent. Her body shook with the first tremulous tremors of release, her face contorting as she bowed and arched. She rode more fiercely, more rapidly, even as her fingertips continued to flick with an almost mechanical speed. Finally her limbs stiffened rigidly and a frantic scream rang violently from her throat. He saw her rise and hold, smelled her aroma as she gushed around her fingers. The sight tore his come from his body, shooting it up his shaft and onto his hand and wrist. His head rolled back as he emptied himself, his mind full of the cry of her orgasm. Finally, he felt himself pulling back, felt Eve drifting in the next room along with him. A final word, he thought, to put her into a deep, dreamless sleep. “You are perfection, Eve, in everything you do, but especially in this,” he whispered into her near slumberous mind. “You bring me the kind of pleasure one only dreams of, and I, Evelina, I am the only one who can make you come with such force that you find completion. Remember, love, remember this.” ***** Cain stared at the ceiling, his dark eyes glazed over as he fought back exhaustion. He’d tried to link with the Sacred Child again, but her mind was too blocked, too guarded for him to find a chink. Obviously his former father was keeping a tight grip on her mind. Alrik ... the name brought a sardonic, twisted smile to his lips. It had been ages, literally, since he’d thought of the man who’d turned him. He had been dying, his life seeping slowly into the soil of the German land; he’d been willing and ready to let go. After all, he’d believed in the reason he’d come to fight. The war to end all wars, that’s what the

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president had called this; how were any of them to know that it was only the first of several to come? He’d been lying there, saying his final prayers, saying goodbye to his parents, to his sweetheart, and to the nightmarish horrors he’d endured since landing in Germany. He’d been partly relieved that he’d no longer have to endure the change the war had wrought on him when he’d heard the movement of medics. A hand had touched his back, slowly flipped him over, and had hesitated before landing on his jugular. “You are alive.” The voice seemed to have been disembodied, as if it weren’t quite real. Of course, Cain hadn’t questioned it then; he’d been too far gone to weigh or consider what it might have meant. Instead, his eyes were reluctantly opened, as if pried by some unseen force, and he’d been locked in a bright, unmovable blue gaze. The man over him had been rugged looking, his square jaw and dark hair giving the medic an almost strangely exotic feel. Even on the brink of death he’d wondered about it, been intimidated by it. “Come, I’ll heal you,” the stranger had said, then he had effortlessly lifted him to a make-shift stretcher, one that could only be pulled by one person. Cain had blacked out during the process; the next thing he remembered was waking in a small bedroom with thin, watery light filtering through the windows. He’d been groggy, exhausted, and every part of his body ached. Death, he’d thought, would have been a relief. “You are awake.” The medic stood in the doorway, the tattered piece of material separating the room he was in from the rest of the house pulled back in his hand. He had studied Cain slowly, those keen eyes of his taking in every small detail. He’d felt like a microbe under a telescope. “I -- how long --?” he’d choked. “A day and a half,” the man had said briskly. “Almost two days. The sun is going down.” Cain had let his eyes close for a moment, but the scenes of death, the memory of the mutilated bodies and the taste and smell of blood and gunpowder had forced his lids up. He’d stared at the ceiling once more for a moment, and then had turned his attention back to the man who had saved his life. He hadn’t been sure whether he should curse him or thank him. “Why?” The one word question had caused a bright blue light to hop in the medic’s eyes. They had stared at each other, seconds ticking by, before the man had finally answered him. “My name is Alrik Rath,” he’d said in a soft, no nonsense tone. “As to why ... which why are you referring to? Why did I save you? Why aren’t you in an army hospital? Why aren’t you dead? Why am I here?”

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The stranger who had called himself Alrik had given him an almost uncomfortably intense stare. “Those are things I’ll answer, but only if you promise me one thing.” Cain had waited one heartbeat before nodding painfully, his natural curiosity overriding any sense of fear he might have felt. After all, he was dying, he knew that, so the worst thing that could happen was going to anyway. The other man had taken his nod as an unspoken yes and had moved toward him, dragging a chair across the room as he went. The sound of the worn wood scraping against the aged floor had echoed off the walls, the noise like an old woman’s nails raking down a metal door. He still didn’t know why he hadn’t been terrified. The dark haired man had carefully settled himself onto the dust-covered chair before locking his gaze back on Cain’s face. A moment later he took a deep breath and began. “You must listen to everything I say with an open mind, and you must not try to run; you are still badly injured.” Again Cain had nodded, waiting with the air almost frozen in his lungs. “As I said, I am Alrik Rath. Why did I save you? Because you are ... unique, Corporal Cain York. You are not in a hospital because of what I have to say to you. If you choose to ignore me, or if you deny what I say, I will take you to one immediately without question or recrimination. You aren’t dead for the same reason that I never seemed to die, that’s part of what makes you exceptional.” “Ex-exceptional?” Cain had croaked. Rath dove in, very straight forward, very matter-of-factly. “In my world, you and I aren’t very far apart. You see, you and I have an unenviable trait; we have the natural born ability of a Veneficus, a witch, but for whatever reason, we don’t have the capability to use or even tap into these natural abilities. A terrible trait because that means we survive things most mortals wouldn’t be able to endure.” He had waited a moment, had seen that Cain was still listening and had yet to turn away, so he had continued. “However, having the curse can be a blessing ... if you are changed.” “Changed?” “Changed into a vampire.” The room had suddenly gone desperately quiet. Only the sound of the evening spring wind whipping against the windows had disturbed the stillness. Their eyes had stayed locked, bonded as the words had sunk into Cain’s fogged mind. He had been confused for a moment, the implications of what he’d just been told sending his thoughts into scattered waves. It had taken Cain’s brain a few moments to finally wrap itself around the questions he’d needed to ask. “A vampire? Like Lon Cheney?” Cain had asked.

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His comment had brought a slight, lopsided smile to Alrik’s lips. “No, not like Lon Cheney. When people like us become vampires, we are known as Lamiai. Our physical looks do not change, only our physical insides change. And we are able to tap into some of our innate Venefici powers. While we are not welcomed into the Venefici sect as pupils and are never allowed to be trained as witches, we are awakened, and some of our abilities, the ones that do not need to be trained, are roused.” Cain had stared at him, unsure, not quite knowing whether to believe what he said or not. And the explanations Alrik Rath had given him had created another set of questions. “Vampires ... they kill. They drink blood from humans,” Cain had said with some uncertainty and a small bit of disgust. “Oh, no, we don’t have to kill, though some do for the thrill. Small amounts of blood are enough to keep us alive and well, and even that doesn’t have to be human. We only need take what we have to have to survive, nothing more.” “But ... but when vampires bite a person they become the undead,” Cain had managed through his raw throat. “Old wives’ tale,” the other man had replied, that oddly charming smile appearing again. “We choose who we wish to change; if everyone who was bitten became a vampire or some sort of undead creature, then we would be the only race left on earth. When we decide to change someone, when the person understands the responsibility of becoming a vampire and has agreed to it, then there is a special way we are allowed to take that step. There is a small, pouch-like sack that develops over the first year that you are a Lamius; it comes in just behind your back molars, at the top. It is filled with a type of venom that, when mixed with human blood, becomes the virus that creates a vampire. During the change, the vampire depresses that small pouch, and the venom is released. So, you see, creating someone like me isn’t as simple as humans have been led to believe.” Alrik had made it all sound so easy, so ... humane. And to a young man who had lost himself in the war it had sounded completely plausible. He had believed his mentor that day, had languished as his creator had answered all his questions easily and carefully. He had taught him the laws of being a Lamius, of how humans were to be respected for their role in the vampire’s survival. The Lamiai vampires were not monsters; they held aside their ravaging animalistic side, instead embracing the idea of being another link in the chain of animals and humans that roamed the earth. They were the invisible link, and they wished to remain so. Cain, of course, had been content to be a Lamius -- for a while at least. Then his urges had clawed at him, pushing him, almost devouring him as he’d fought for control. He’d tortured himself by battling his vampiric instincts -- until he’d been introduced to the other Lamiai, the ones that Rath and the others had told him horror stories of, the ones he’d been warned against. The black Lamiai, the flip side of the quietly sedate white side.

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That’s when he had met Iliana; that’s when his life as a true Lamius had really begun. Twenty years after being turned, barely a blip in the years of a vampire’s existence, he had met the group he’d felt he should have belonged with from the beginning. He’d never gone back, had never been tempted to. And now ... now fate had shoved him into the path of his creator, his mentor, the one man he’d learned to hate and love at the same time. There was no way Rath could keep the Sacred Child safe for much longer. Her birthday was coming, the time for her ascension, and that kind of growing power couldn’t be blotted out. No matter how strong the protector, spell, or talisman.

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Chapter Nine Gray sighed as he watched the woman across from him eat almost ravenously. She sat happily in the light wood dinette chair, taking mammoth bites of her overstuffed sandwich into her mouth as if it were her last meal. He knew; he could see the glow around her in the sunlight that poured through the kitchen windows and sense the dregs of Rath that still clung to her skin. It had been there all damn day, even through her animated conversations on the phone and to the staff about the Fourth of July celebration. He had thought the other man would have found the strength to leave her alone, but obviously that hadn’t been the case. Well, he’d done his best, he reasoned; Alrik would just have to answer to the old man, God help him. “I can’t believe the party is the day after tomorrow. This is crazy ... and so exciting,” Eve went on between bites of roast beef. “I mean, I know it’s not like I’m inventing the wheel --” “But it gets lonely here, I know, and I understand,” he assured her, trying not to sound irritated by her exuberant mood. “You’ll enjoy yourself and so will the people from town. That’s what it’s all about.” She gave him a deep, concentrated look for a moment then waved her finger at him. “You still don’t like the idea of this party. You don’t like the idea of other people coming here. And I think I know why.” Gray gazed at her for a moment, logically knowing she couldn’t have found out anything about what was really going on, but still feeling that inky worry that somehow she had. “Now, Eve, don’t start reading --” “You don’t like anyone to intrude on your privacy here. The estate is in your care, and the thought of people trampling across the grounds, damaging flowers and shrubbery bothers

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you,” she said, carefully placing her hoagie on the crumb-filled plate before continuing. “You can’t deny that you don’t leave the keep all that often, and when you do you’re never gone that long.” “Speaking of which,” he hedged slowly. “I’ll be gone tonight.” “And you’ll be back tomorrow morning; I know the routine,” she replied, still eyeing him a bit suspiciously. “You are a strange man, Gray. Nice, but odd. You disappear once a month, God knows where you go or what you do, but you always show up the next morning, exhausted, and looking well used. Tell me, are you a stripper on the side?” He nearly gagged on the potato salad in his mouth. As he sputtered she chuckled, her face lit with humor as he drank his Guinness to clear his throat. “No, I am not a stripper,” he rasped, his eyes flashing hazel gold as he watched her satisfied smile. “I like to go out sometimes, that’s all,” he lied smoothly. “I like to remind myself why I enjoy the solitude of Griffin Keep.” “Um, you’ll have to take me with you sometime,” she said absently “You picked a good night for carousing, anyway. It’s going to be a full moon.” And lucky for him, she hadn’t realized that he disappeared every time the moon happened to be full. It was the one time that he couldn’t control the change his body went through. But at least he didn’t lose all thought or humanity. A nice werewolf ... it was a strange thing to believe. But then, everything about his existence had been strange. The only thing that had ever been so completely ordinary that it had been out of context with his life was the friendship and fatherly bond that he shared with Abram Griffin. “I’m supposed to call my grandfather tonight. He’s checking on the party preparations ... he says. But I have the feeling that there’s something else he wants to talk about. Something that he’s reluctant to tell me for some reason.” She shrugged, seemingly unruffled by the thought, and speared a bite of her macaroni salad. “I love him, but sometimes I think he forgets I’m an adult. I guess he’ll tell me in his own sweet time.” Gray took a large bite of his rare hamburger, chewing back his reply as his eyes skittered away from her. Abram would tell Eve when the time was right; he only hoped that she wouldn’t have a breakdown or curse them all when she realized what she was and what she was going to be forced to become.

***** Eve hummed softly to herself as she wandered down the dim hallway, her quiet song echoing off the stone walls. She’d had a busy, full day, and tomorrow was going to be just as crazy. She hadn’t thought of the all the preparations when she’d begged her grandfather for this party, but she had to admit that she’d begun to thrive on the lists and schedules. It gave her something to do other than tending her gardens. Odd, but she hadn’t felt the pull to leave the grounds since the idea for the Fourth of July celebration had occurred to her.

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Maybe it was the fact that she was constantly busy now, or maybe it was the fact that the town was coming to her; whatever the reason, part of her felt relief that she wasn’t struggling with the depressive loneliness that had dogged her for so long. Sighing, she ran her hand over her loose hair, enjoying the feel of the cool stones underneath her bare feet. Gray had already disappeared, gone on his monthly jaunt to God knew where. She wasn’t a fool; she knew he was bedding some woman, probably a nameless one, as he didn’t care for strings. A few weeks ago she would have been envious, even angry, because he was out having sex with some stranger when she was more than available. Now, though ... somehow that, too, had changed. It was the dreams, she thought, smiling hazily as she meandered into the library. They had done wonders for her temper and her need. Strange how she’d found such satisfaction in shadows and ghosts when she’d struggled so hard to find it in real life. She only hoped that the dreams didn’t stop once she left the castle. And she would leave, she thought with a small sigh, just as soon as her grandfather finished his visit. She loved Abram dearly, but he had always been so overprotective of her. Of course, she understood why he’d always been that way. Still, she had to make him understand that she wasn’t a five-year-old, but a grown woman with plans and ambition. She had to make him see that she needed to leave Ireland, to leave the protective walls of private schools and Griffin Keep and venture out into the world. If she didn’t she was afraid she’d curl up and die. As she looked around the dark paneled library, she let her mind wonder, taking her back to the vivid fantasies her imagination had begun to conjure. A brutally handsome man with a sad, bloody past coming home to the land of his heart. His world would have been so very different, as would he. She conjured up his image in her mind, not surprised at all when the picture popped readily into her thoughts. Midnight black hair, startling blue eyes, harsh features, and a large, broad body ... A wind, long, easy and cool, blew over her face and tossed her hair, sending silvery chills over her skin. Something murmured in her ear, almost like several different whispers tangled in knots, spinning her around in sudden alarm. Nothing was there, no radio, no television, and no servants. “What the hell?” The breeze stirred again, as if it had met the far wall and ricocheted off. Voices, mingled and mixed, sounded in her ears, soft enough to make her unsure if she was actually hearing voices, or if it was simply an echo from other rooms. The wind reached her and tore through her hair once more as it sped by, the noise escalating momentarily as the air whipped past her. The slamming of a door down the hall pulled her back to reality. Imagination, she thought, and laughed shakily to herself. Not enough sleep, too many daydreams, and way too much time on her hands. She was starting to hear evil in innocuous things.

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A book, she told herself firmly. She’d come here for a book to keep her company tonight. Something interesting, something that would help her relax; gazing with still unsteady eyes at the leather spines surrounding her, she took a deep breath and forced her muscles to ease. Taking a shaky step forward she began to peruse the titles. It took her five full minutes to finally calm down, and two more minutes for her mind to focus on what she was searching through. By the time she had reached the third tall inset shelf, she was calling herself overly nervous and much too skittish. Wind, that was all it was. She was lecturing herself again when her gaze fell on the heavy, cracked spine of an aged book. Turning her head, she squinted at the title, trying to make it out. The thick gold tinted name was nearly worn away but she could just decipher the word magic. Intrigued, she pulled it down, jumping a bit when she felt an odd vibration spear through her fingertips. “Magic,” she said out loud, smiling. “And I’m still shaky from the wind,” she commented with more conviction. Eve flipped through the pages, feeling a warm, deep glow begin in her chest as the pages crinkled and billowed under her fingers. “This one,” she murmured. With a pleased smile, she slipped out of the library and headed down the abandoned hall toward her tower room.

***** Gray strained as he pumped his cock in and out of the writhing woman underneath him. His body pulsed with need as his skin shined with the sweat of sex. He had to do this, had to let the passion out before he changed or he would be far too dangerous. It was almost unbearable, the driving obsession for copulation as he bordered on becoming his other self. “Oh, oh, Gray, yes, oh, yes!” The feminine voice floated up and around him, the sound of her orgasm a slick and heady undercurrent. She had been a willing participant in this; she knew what he was, knew his secret, as did most of the staff of Griffin Keep. And here, under the levels of the castle, hidden in the dungeon where people had once been tortured and murdered, Gray took his women whenever he had to. He had created a room specifically for this, and for his change. A bed, soft pillows, a clean floor and sturdy walls with a passage to the outside ... it was everything he needed. The women came to his lair more than willingly; his reputation for pleasing the fairer sex had spread like wildfire through the grapevine of the keep and had many of the females licking their lips in anticipation of his change. Gritting his teeth, he plunged forward again, his long rod sinking into hot, wet, ready flesh. Her walls swallowed him, cradled him, rocked with him, then trembled as he pulled away. He reached between them, found her clit with his nimble fingers and began to flick

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and rotate. Her body contracted immediately, squeezing his cock with such force that he thought he’d come before her. “Uhhhhh ... oh, oh, my God ...” she moaned, her heated skin molding to his as she rose to the thrusts. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it, come for me. Do it!” he prompted, hammering into her now. He felt the first quake of her orgasm rip through her body and closed his eyes, grateful for the dim lighting of the small room. With her whimpers in his ears and her body shaking underneath him, he could imagine another woman, another face. Titian red hair, startling green eyes, lush red mouth ... the woman he always thought of when fucking anyone else. With the vision in his mind he let go, shooting his release in long, violent bursts as his head fell back. He grunted, held onto the thighs encircling his waist, and let the moment of sexual release blot the rest of the world away. Finally, he collapsed beside his newest lover, his breathing erratic as he flung his arm over his head. To his credit, he didn’t flinch when the woman beside him touched his chest with tentative fingers. He appreciated the fact that she was willing to be his outlet and he felt that he owed her at least this one small thing. He understood that afterward women needed the gentle contact of flesh on flesh. In quieter moments he admitted the brutal truth that he needed it, too. Only he felt as if he were betraying the one female he craved if he ever took it. “Gray, you are ... you are one hell of a lover,” the golden haired woman chuckled. “They say you’re good, but my God, I had absolutely no idea.” “I’m only as good as my partner,” he quipped, hoping to give her a parting compliment. The sun was sinking; he could feel it in his bones. His body would be twisting and morphing, changing into what he’d been born to be. He would run the wilds of the hills, kill prey as his animal side fought for release, and call for his mate ... a mate his human heart would realize wouldn’t answer his plea. “Do you need anything before I go?” the woman asked, moving slightly as she prepared to leave. “No, just ... thank you,” he murmured, reaching out momentarily to touch her hand. She gave him a warm, understanding smile and rose, pulling her robe with her as she went. Tenderly, she laid a parting kiss on his cheek and disappeared into the shadows.

***** He watched her from the shadows, as he usually did, cursing himself and his seeming lack of control. He shouldn’t be doing this; he wasn’t being fair to either of them. Her life was going to change for an eternity in a few short weeks, and she had no idea. Who she was now wouldn’t be who she would become; she would be a new being, one that wouldn’t be able to be close to him -- or he near her.

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But there was something about her, something that called to the small, hidden glow of humanity that had kept him sane these last centuries. Her essence reached in and touched him, drew that ball of light out to shine closer to the surface. It was something he’d never experienced, not in his life before, and certainly not in his life as a vampire. She terrified him; she fascinated him ... she bled into him like fine red wine. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop seeing her. Couldn’t stop watching her and touching her, even when he forced himself to keep their sexual relationship in her dreams. Rath had never dealt with anything or anyone like Eve Griffin before; he wasn’t sure what he would do once she was no longer accessible to him. She stirred in the heavy wingchair that he often sat in, drawing his attention back from his thoughts. She had her legs flung over the arms, her legs gently kicking back and forth as she read from the old book in her hands. Someone had left the Griffin family’s Kitchen Magic book in the library, and, of course, she had found it. Whether she’d realized it or not it had probably called to her, and she had unknowingly responded. He heard her sigh, gazed at her as her eyes cut to the stained glass window and the darkness beyond. She stood gracefully, carefully balancing the leather tome in her hands as she stretched languidly. There was a moment of decision, then she was moving across the room and into the bath. There were a few precious heartbeats before he finally heard the water running for a bath. The image of Eve, naked and wet, soaking in hot water as fragrant bubbles caressed her delectable skin, brought a groan into his throat. Quickly, he bit it back, afraid that she might hear his presence. As she meandered back into the bedroom, his hungry eyes raked her from head to foot. She was so wholesome in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt with her bare toes curling into the deep blue threads of the throw rug. Wholesome, he reminded himself, and completely unaware of what she was doing to him. She hissed suddenly, bringing a worried crease to Alrik’s brow as he studied her quickly paling face. She lifted a hand to her head, as if staving off a headache before swiftly covering her ears with her palms. He fought back the urge to go to her, to touch her and comfort her in some way. He had no idea what was happening, but it was obviously distressing to his Eve. Focusing carefully, he finally heard what was echoing in her mind and cursed long, hot, and silently. “Damn it, damn it,” she cursed between tight lips. “I am not hearing voices. I am not!” He watched with concerned eyes as she steadied herself. Finally, she inched her head up and her hands down. “I’m working too hard, that’s all. I’m tired ... and lonely. I am not going crazy.” Rath clenched his jaw as the implications of her words sunk in. Deliberately, he drew in long, slow breaths to calm his breathing as she chose a satin blue nightgown and tossed it over her bed. They were calling her, he thought, trying not to panic. The souls that still lived in the castle, the women who had come before her, the ones who had been the Sacred Child

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as she was now, and the people who had protected them, who had been their guides during the journey to their change, were finding their way into her mind. Bloody hell, her power was evolving on its own; her innate abilities seemed to know that her time was near and were reaching out for truths and direction. She had no idea what was happening to her; if they weren’t careful, her mind might crack under the unknown pressure. She would try to reason with her human, logical side about what was going on inside of herself, and she’d only be led to one conclusion. That she was losing her mind. He knew he might be jumping to conclusions, but as he watched her tenderly weigh the book of kitchen magic in her hands and turn to go to her bath, he found himself not caring. Eve was in need, and he had to do something to help her. Even a small gesture, one that told her she wasn’t alone and that there was nothing to be scared of, might serve to help keep her in balance. He didn’t bother to question his overwhelming need to sooth or his near irrational fear that she might be lost in the shadowed world of terror and uncertainty. He only knew he had to take care of her. After all, wasn’t that what the old man and the guard dog kept hammering into his head?

***** Eve lolled back in the warm water, her hair piled high on her head as bubbles floated listlessly around her. She lazily snuggled into the warm tub, her eyes fluttering closed as her relaxed grip loosened, allowing the book she’d been reading to slip toward the water. Giving a strangled cry, Eve pulled herself up and fumbled her fingers around the leather covering, sighing with relief when it was back securely in her hands. The yellowed, aged pages and handwritten notes wouldn’t survive a dunking into soap-laden bathwater, she carefully slid the volume onto the floor. A deep breath escaped her lungs as she sank comfortably back into the water. Rath felt his lips curve into a rare smile as he watched Eve fall into sleep. She’d almost dropped the old tome, but she had managed, without even knowing, to levitate the book just above the water for the split second she’d needed to rescue it. Of course she hadn’t realized she’d done it. She hadn’t even seen the bare inch of air between the cover and the bubbles. But she’d done it nonetheless. He watched her as she slumbered, took in her creamy skin, her dark blond hair scattered on her crown and around her shoulders. He heard the swim of her hot blood, could smell the essence of its strength and the tones of its power. Longing slapped him cold and hard, forcing him to fight himself on a base level, shoving away his sudden red-hazed blood lust. His teeth itched to grow, the sharpened corners piercing his upper inner lip as he denied his other half. Damn it, her strength was gaining, making the need to taste her almost unbearable. Then she sighed softly, her plump lips parting slightly as she moved in her sleep. Vulnerable, the idea struck him more viciously than the draw to have her blood coursing

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through him. Grinding his jaw tightly, he hurried to slide the piece of paper from the pocket of his dark pants into the front of the magic book. Rath knew with sudden and miserable clarity that his time with her was shorter than he could have imagined. He was in exquisite control of his vampiric side, enough so that he was one of only one hundred who were true Lamiai. He’d kept his sworn promise to never allow the dark side of what he’d become to take completely over; he’d never permitted his need for human blood to cause him to kill his host. He’d simply fed and took what he had to have, fiercely pushing down the clawing need to experience the power of murdering. He’d protected the Venefici, befriending the witches even as that animal half of him had struggled and fought for control. He wouldn’t let the world down, wouldn’t permit himself to lose the restraint he’d had over himself for so long. Not now, not when everything and everyone on the earth was in the balance. Pulling back, he slid into the shadows and through the wall, hoping his small offering to Eve would ease her way for a while. Eve’s eyes flickered open, the copper brown orbs fuzzy as she tried to focus. The now cool water of her bath enveloped her pruned skin, the bubbles she’d been luxuriating in long ago absorbed into nothing. “Wow, I must have been more tired than I thought.” She lifted herself from the porcelain tub by slow, careful inches. Grabbing the large white bath towel from the iron rack, she wrapped herself in the soft material and leaned down for the book she’d been reading. Sighing softly, she padded into her bedroom and laid the tome on her bedside table, then turned to take the lotion from her vanity. As she seated herself on the red padded chair, she began to hum a nameless tune. Alrik watched her, his body hardening as she touched herself. She lifted a leg, smeared her violet scented lotion down the freshly shaved limb, and smiled. His cock jumped when she purred in pleasure; never in his life had he wished to be something as mundane as a towel until now. He studied her through the entire ritual, his fingers spastically curling and uncurling into his palms. He didn’t know if he could wait until she was asleep to invade her mind. His need to drive in and out of her body, to take and give pleasure, to taste her as she came in his mouth, made him shake. Tonight, he thought, he’d make her tremble and sigh, gasp and beg, and then he would show her the side benefit of his centuries of self-discipline. He waited as she stood, nearly growled when she dropped her bath sheet and began rubbing fragrant oil over the rest of her skin. He watched, mesmerized, as she circled her breasts, slowing as she gave extra attention to her nipples. It was as if she could feel him wanting her and was torturing him with her show. It was ridiculous, of course; there was no way she could know he was there. Still, as she made long, languid lines across her slightly

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rounded abdomen, his mind couldn’t help but blame the woman that seemed to be preparing herself just for him. When she finally turned to her bed, he saw a momentary look of surprise as she gazed down at the nightgown. Instead of the satin concoction she’d tossed across the cream-colored spread earlier, there was an utterly feminine black lace gown. He waited, wondering if she’d guess that her nighttime attire had been changed. Instead of looking around, she simply shrugged, muttering something under her breath that could have been a gibe at her tired state. Eve slid into the gown, covering her luscious skin with the negligee of his choosing, and Rath wasn’t sure if he was relieved or painfully angry that she’d concealed her curves. He’d soon have her naked, he promised himself hotly, even if it were only in her dreams. The overhead light was flicked off, and Alrik’s eyes quickly adjusted as the softer glow of the side lamp replaced it. She slipped into bed, snuggling into the covers as her exhausted muscles sighed in relief. Her thoughts moved slow and sluggish as she lay back on her plump pillow; the scent of the summer sun and fresh air permeated the material she was swathed in, bringing a pleasant smile to her lips. Tired, but not quite ready to fall asleep, she decided to read another few pages of her book. Sitting up, she reached over for her book and adjusted herself against the tall wrought iron headboard. As she opened it, a piece of paper slid out of the pages, fluttering to her lap. Strange, she thought with a wrinkled brow, she hadn’t seen this before. It must have been caught in the spine. Curious, she pulled the folded sheet open and looked down at the neat, heavy handwriting. Print, slanted and bold, stood out on the aged paper. Odd, the dark ink itself looked new even if the page looked old. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she focused on the words and began reading.

“How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us. “So you must not be frightened, if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloud-shadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall ...” “Letters To A Young Poet,” she whispered. “Rainer Maria Rilke. I wonder who ...” But even as her words trailed off, she felt a kind of ease slide into her. Somehow the words had been what she didn’t even know she needed. Perhaps all this loneliness had an ultimate point, one that would be beneficial. Maybe all those strange feelings of being

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watched over weren’t to be feared, but to be embraced. And it was possible that those dreams, the images of being touched, the daydreams and feelings that were so vivid, should be enjoyed -- just as she was enjoying them. No more questions, the poem seemed to say to her, just be. Gently placing the volume back on the side table, she snapped off the light then stretched down into the bed and curled onto her side. Just be ... the idea floated through her mind, drifting there with a comforting warmth as she hovered on the plane of sleep. That was enough for now.

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Chapter Ten Rath waited as Eve drifted closer and closer to deep, true sleep; his blood hummed as he stared, taking in her glowing skin and her sweet, rich scent. He bided his time, letting his mind drift with hers as she faded from the waking to the dreaming world. When he was sure she was ensconced in the foggy realm of slumber, he moved to her, his body raging with the fires of sexual need. He didn’t care anymore what was right or wrong; it didn’t matter what might happen if he should be caught taking her. Consequences sizzled and evaporated in his overheated libido. All he knew was that, at this moment, he had to have her. He had to sink inside her hot, welcoming walls, had to feel her shutter, shriek, and bow with orgasms, had to taste her bitterly sweet juices as she came for him over and over again. For tonight, there were no rules, no one on the face of the earth that made any difference, save Eve. He would walk away with memories of her when he had to; this night would ensure that she would never fade from his mind, or he from hers. When he reached the bed, he gazed down at her form for a moment. Even in sleep she was exquisite, almost painfully so. The loving fingers of the sun had streaked her honeybrown hair; her skin was kissed golden by the same rays. Her face was a miracle of high cheekbones, stubborn jaw, and fine structure. Her limbs, so capable, so well honed, were sleek with muscles, yet somehow still feminine; her legs were long and sensuous, and he knew through first-hand knowledge that they felt like sinful heaven wrapped around a man’s body. The gown he’d chosen for her fell wide at her chest, allowing one golden tipped nipple to peek through. She had the most magnificent set of breasts he’d ever seen in either of his lives. They always seemed to call out to him to be stroked, touched, licked, and nibbled. His cock was iron hard by the time he was through perusing her body. The way she aroused him so quickly was close to insane; but it was a craziness he was more than willing

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to fall into. With deliberate ease, he began undressing, taking his dark clothes off as he thought of her. Tonight he would touch her in the real world, something he hadn’t dared to do since that first time. He needed to feel her true skin against his fingertips, experience the taste of her flesh, of her mouth, of her nipples, and the precious center of her core. He craved her and was through denying himself. Carefully, he slid into bed with Eve, barely stirring the covers as he positioned himself beside her. With tender hands he touched her temples, making sure the link they shared was a complete circuit. No matter how desperately he needed to feel her surrender to him, he couldn’t risk her waking and catching him. All that power, unchecked, could cause her mind to break -- and possibly kill them both in the process. “Evelina,” he whispered, his voice rough in its softness. “Evelina, wake to me.” She stirred, bringing the covers down another inch to reveal her ample cleavage. He sucked in a breath, fought the urge to bury his face against her chest, and called her again. “Evelina, my Eve, come to me.” Her eyes opened, the whiskey-toned orbs still glazed with sleep. He kept her balanced there, made sure her dreams were still wrapped around her mind as she eased back into the world. She turned her head and, when she saw him, gave Rath a lazy, beaming smile. “My lover,” she sighed. “Alrik.” He felt himself tremble as she said his name so sweetly. So Gray had been right, she was linked with him, he thought, pleased with the idea that she wanted him so much that her thoughts stayed connected with his. “Yes,” he told her quietly. “I’m here for you.” She rolled toward him, her body lax and warm from slumber, her heart beginning to hammer in an excited rhythm. He heard her pulse, the rush of blood, smelled her essence as she became instantly stimulated. With tender hands he pulled her to him, bringing her curves against his hard plains. His cock strained against her nightgown, already searching for its place inside of her. He took her mouth first, sinking his tongue between her plump lips with an almost violent need. He groaned when her tongue wrapped with his, rubbing and delving as she took and gave. The heat and wetness almost undid him, but he forced himself to hang on as the world seemed to tilt. He sampled her over and over, lingered over her taste as she sighed and moaned. When he finally let go of her mouth, he gave her bottom lip a final, careful bite, smiling when she shivered against him. His teeth traveled down, skimming her jaw line, hesitating over her throat. Not willing to let even one piece of her skin go untouched, he lowered his mouth to her pulse, sucked with gentle, easy pressure. He felt the impulse, the raging want, to sink his teeth into her tender flesh; he fought it back, knowing what would happen to her if he dared to take that idiotic risk. He quickly moved on, licking down her throat to her collarbone, savoring her for

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endless moments before going further down. As his lips traveled to her breast, he felt her body arch, heard the purring as she urged him on. With a single, quick flip he was on top of her, giving him complete access to her warm, willing body. His practiced hands slid the silky concoction of her nightgown away, letting it flutter to the floor with a careless toss. He stared down at her for a quick, breathless moment as he straddled her stomach, his fingertips itching to touch and roam every inch of her. But she was restless underneath him, begging with her writhing for him to continue. With a wicked smile, he lowered his lips to her swollen breast. He sucked one pebble-hard nipple into his mouth, felt her jerk and tremble, and smiled as she broke into a sweet smelling sweat. His mind began to jumble with her feelings, stretching and tangling with her needs as he sucked and nipped her. The sensations were almost unbearable as they speared through him, tingling his testicles and bouncing his shaft. He was determined to give her more, to make her shout out for him as many times as her mind and his control could handle. His mouth trailed to her other breast, laving over her nipple with a quick, darting motion. She slammed against him as her spine bowed, bringing a thrill into his veins as he felt her body almost climax. Chuckling sinful delight, he pressed his hard cock against her crotch, nestling there as he sucked her nipple. She ground against him, growling as the tip of his cock rubbed against her clit. She bucked and circled, trying to find the pace she needed as she struggled for her climax. He helped her with his hands, palming her hips, bending her legs and setting a rhythm that nearly pushed him over the edge. He felt her limbs begin to quake, felt her mind begin to glow with pinpricks of stars as her thighs squeezed him. When she screamed, he launched with her, barely holding back his own release as he experienced her full orgasm. Her mind echoed with her climax, rupturing heaven itself as she flew up with startling speed and strength. He held her as she trembled and descended, then chose to keep her walking the precipice of another orgasm. He let go of her breast and nibbled her delectable skin, his arousal becoming brutally painful as he took in her flavor. He skimmed over her stomach, pausing to scrape long, sure lines with his teeth on either side of her belly button. She jumped and laughed, her voice deep with the sensuality he was awakening inside of her. He hesitated at her engorged lips, prolonging the erotic emotions that rioted through both of them as he nuzzled the moist curls. She inhaled sharply, her muscles tightening as his heated breath ran over her sensitive skin. Slowly, he extended his tongue, teasing her swollen flesh with the possibilities before moving to her inner thigh. He sucked the delicate skin there, the rush of her blood just underneath the surface maddening him as his fangs began to inch out. He shuddered with restraint, reminded himself what could happen, and forced his sharp teeth to contract. Taking a deep breath, he once again pushed his natural base instincts away as he swirled his tongue down her leg, marveling at the feel of her calf

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against his lips. When he reached her ankle, he picked up her other long limb and began a slow, torturous ascent with his mouth. Eve’s head thrashed wildly on her downy pillow as her body throbbed. She keened deep in her throat as his tongue laved her knee; her hips rose and fell, rolling against the cool sheets. Alrik felt her need, was almost overcome by the heat and desperation that screamed from her thoughts and nerves. His cock tightened as he approached her aromatic center, the scent of her soaking through his skin and into his blood. When he thought they both might be crushed under the weight of her need, he sank his mouth onto her swollen lips. He lapped at her wet juices, the taste of her rolling in his mouth as he licked her slit. His tongue worked its way to her opening and dove in, reaching into her as her walls squeezed from the pleasure. He moaned against her, reveling in her heat as she began a slow rocking. He moved with her, complying with her demands as the sensations swamped his mind with scorching tendrils. He felt her rising, felt her swelling with agonizing delight and slid his tongue out of her. She began to protest until his wet muscle was quickly replaced by his fingers, first one, then, more slowly, two. She hissed and moaned as she rode his hand, her sopping cavern swallowing his fingers as she kept up the heady pace he was setting for her. She moved with the patient beat, biting her bottom lip as her body rose and fell. She nearly came off the bed when he ran the tip of his tongue over her hardened clit. Alrik felt her body tense and experienced the passionate pleasure that was now coating her mind. He knew she was close, he could feel it with his body and with his thoughts. His cock pushed against the mattress, the hardness of the muscle creating a harsh, pleasurable friction as it scraped against the soft sheets. His need for her only intensified the orgasm that he felt building inside of her, his passion blending with hers in their locked minds as it spiraled her closer toward climax. He slowed his tongue, flicking easy, butterfly light touches over her clit as her moans urged him on. Finally, when he wasn’t sure if it was her or him that would fly apart, he eased a third finger inside of her, pumping with the same rhythm, and gently increased the pressure to her hard nub. “Yes, yes ... oh, God ... oh, my God ... Ye-- ye-- Yes!” she screamed, her now highpitched voice echoing off the walls. She gushed around him, pouring over his fingers and tongue, coating him with her essence. He kept his movements up as she hurdled over into her orgasm, her walls squeezing his knuckles almost painfully while she spasmed. As her cries lessened and her breathing eased, he carefully removed his fingers and gave her clit one last, slow lick. She shuddered in pleasure, purring like a well-fed cat. He moved his broad, sweaty body up hers, laid a tender kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear, “We’re not through.”

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Her lungs hitched, her heart picking up its pounding again as he poised his cock at her entrance. He could feel how much she wanted him now, even after her two orgasms. He needed to come inside of her, ride her as he helped her to reach her climax. Without hesitation she wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him full permission to take her as long and as hard as he wanted. Instead of sliding into her immediately, though, he continued to torture her with words. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” he confessed, feeling safe enough to tell her the truth while she was in a twilight state. “I wanted to feel you, to touch you, to throw you to the floor and ram my cock inside of you until you screamed my name. But I couldn’t touch you; I knew I couldn’t -- that I shouldn’t. I watched you when you touched yourself; I saw everything you did to yourself to find an orgasm. I wanted to be the one touching you, I wanted to rip your hand away from your body and replace it with mine. I wanted to be the one swallowing your juices, feeling your walls as you squeezed and came. Then one day the rules didn’t seem to matter.” He reached down and began pulling her nipple with gentle, sure tugs. She arched and groaned, her flesh heating to a scorching temperature as he continued his assault. “I couldn’t not have you, Evelina, so I took you. And you were so willing, so ready. I know you’ve never had a true lover before, one who would die just for a taste of you, one who would spend an entire night doing nothing but bringing you pleasure. But I would. I would bend myself to your every wish and need for as long as you wished me to. I would gladly die an exquisite death even for one night of having you wrapped around me, moving with me ... making love with me.” He felt her tremble at his words and smiled. He read her understanding, even in her twilight state, that this was more than a mutual fuck in a convenient bed. This was a joining of their bodies and their thoughts; this was the ultimate in pleasure. He knew she enjoyed it all, and he would gladly give it to her. He felt her mind knot from the sensations he was creating, both with his fingers and with his words. He smirked when he touched the chaos of her psyche; she couldn’t form a coherent thought, but she knew damn well what her body was pleading for. He was more than willing to oblige. “I want to make love to you, Eve. I have to. Say I can, say I can have you,” he pleaded in a raspy voice. He held her gaze as she nodded mutely, no longer able to reason, and barely able to breath. In one smooth motion he was filling her, his large cock pushing her walls open as the tip touched her womb. She gasped in excited desire, and he paused, giving her a moment to adjust to his considerable size. Alrik ground his teeth together as her heat surrounded him. She was so slick, so damned tight, and her body was still quaking with aftershocks from her last orgasm. Her sublime needs bled into his thoughts, adding to the layers of passion and want that were

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already built inside of him. He gave them both a moment to sink into the pleasure of their joined bodies, then he began a slow, steady tempo that both tortured and eased. Her thoughts were a cacophony of wants and needs, bringing his lust to an overflowing boiling point. He quickened, ramming in and out of her as she met him demanding thrust for demanding thrust. He pushed her, pushed himself, as his cock sank between her swollen lips with rapid movements. When he felt her near to breaking, he slowed again, determined to make it last. He pulled himself almost completely out of her, leaving only the tip of his shaft inside her entrance; then he eased back into her, inch by long inch, and hissed when her walls quaked. When his head rubbed against the engorged, intensely sensitive spot he felt her wonder, felt her growing amazement as her body began to shiver. He kept himself poised just a few inches inside of her, not filling her completely as he moved in small thrusts. He lowered his eyes, watched as his gleaming cock fucked her, and nearly came. “Look at us, Eve,” he commanded. “Watch me while I make you come.” He saw her eyes move down and knew the moment the world ripped apart for her. He witnessed her orgasm, felt it, and experienced it twofold. He rammed himself to the hilt, moving his fingers between them to gently rub her clit as she shattered. His actions only made her orgasm harder, her body swallowing his cock completely, milking him as he, too, finally gave in. His mind and the world around him pitched into nothingness as his orgasm sent long shots of his climax into her quivering flesh. When he was spent he collapsed against her, his head resting just beside her ear. Alrik gasped for air as his body continued to shudder from the aftereffects of incredible pleasure. He could feel the answering ripples just under Eve’s skin and smiled smugly in satisfaction. She would be tired tomorrow, he thought, but she would be completely sated. She moved underneath him, warning him that the fog of her dreams might be lifting. He closed his eyes in sadness as the real world seeped into their moments of quiet bliss. In that moment, he would have given his centuries of life to be able to hold her for the entire evening, to be with her as they drifted in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Sighing silently, he reluctantly lifted his lips to her ear. “A dream, Evelina, it was only a dream,” he whispered hoarsely, reaching into her mind and touching the fog. It dissipated as he carried her down to complete sleep, gently dropping her into the ring of dancing fairies she was so fond of dreaming about. Carefully, he rose from her, tenderly redressing her as she continued to slumber. He gently covered her with the sheet, gazing at her flushed, angelic face as he tucked her in. There was no turning back, not now, not after what had happened tonight. He’d told her he’d wanted to make love with her, not fuck her, not use her, but join with her in an almost holy way. And he’d meant it, to the bottom of his soulless body.

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He’d thought he’d be able to do this, to have her in her dreams where his identity was safe. He knew that once she found out the truth about him his desire for her would go unfulfilled. He’d done this thinking he could have her and live his long, lonely existence without her by relying on the memories he’d made. He’d thought he’d be able to walk away after he’d had her this one last time. He’d come here tonight to take her, both her body and her memory. Instead she had taken him -- completely. She had claimed a part of him that still yearned for things he had no right wanting. And he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do once she wasn’t within his reach.

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Chapter Eleven Eve let her body float to wakefulness as the sun began to blaze high in the sky. She was so languid, so blissfully happy, and for a few moments she had no idea why. Then, like a lightening flash, memories flooded in. Images of being touched, of being stroked, caressed, and brought to orgasm over and over again assailed her like warm satin. She wondered for a split second if wanting to be asleep more than she wanted to be awake was an unhealthy sign. Her blurry mind didn’t bother to reason it out. Instead it brought her back under to sleep when a wave of unreasonable exhaustion overtook her.

***** Alrik fell head first into sleep, his well-used body buried deeply in rich blue satin sheets. What thoughts he might have had were quickly covered by the gray clouds of slumber, jerking his senses to the underbelly of his dreams. The fog parted, lifting slowly, showing him the path to his teacher’s house. He ran as quickly as he could, fighting through the trees and overgrowth as he made his way to the little cottage that still stood in the woods. Civilization had yet to find this place he’d considered a little haven -- but something else had. He’d felt the death of his mentor the moment it had happened. He had seen the few moments before the sword had sliced cleanly through Chin Lo Wang’s neck, had felt his creator vanish from existence. There had been nothing he could do, nothing at all, not when he was thousands of miles away. He didn’t rush into the house, not when he knew what he would find. Instead, he stood just below the still sturdy porch and gazed at his surroundings with grieving eyes. The passing of years hadn’t changed the place; even the small garden still grew year after year

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thanks to Chin Lo Wang’s hands. Today, though, it stood with small weeds poking through the rich dirt, a sure sign that his mentor hadn’t been able to attend to it. The old wood creaked under his weight as he climbed the stairs, the fog swirling around his ankles as the blue of the night surrounded him. He didn’t want to go in, yet he knew he had to. There was no doubt in his mind what he would find, but at the same time he knew he had to fulfill his master’s requests. The weight of his duty and his sorrow was almost suffocating. As he stepped inside, he found himself pelted with memories, both painful and happy, all of them involving the little monk who had changed him ... saved him. The strange way of thinking and fighting that Chin Lo Wang had passed on to him; the way he made him consider things in different and new ways. He had taken Rath and had molded him into more of a human being than he’d ever been when he was merely flesh and blood. Across the clean floor, he saw what he had been dreading. A pile of gray dust lay quietly, the ashes of the life that had been extinguished waiting patiently for him to arrive. The sight broke what was left of his spirit, bringing him to his knees with gut wrenching pain. It was his fault, all his fault. He knew that Chin Lo Wang could have been in danger but he had chosen to stay away, thinking that he could keep the threat away from his mentor if he simply wasn’t near him. But he had chosen the wrong path. He should have been here to protect him, to keep him safe. Instead, a life Rath had created had killed the man who had changed him. Cain’s cold anger still reverberated off of the wooden walls, the lash of it stinging Alrik. He wouldn’t let his dark progeny have the final say, though. He would give Chin Lo Wang the decency and respect that a man of his wisdom and kindness deserved. Slowly, he stood, going to the hidden panel behind the small bed that stood in the corner. Feeling around the sides, he found the secret latch and snapped it open. In the dark, his sensitive eyes found the tall, earthen ceramic urn that had been carefully hand painted by Chin Lo Wang himself. Small gold and black designs that incorporated scenes from the life he’d left behind when he’d been changed covered the outside. Reverently, he gathered the remains of his master, funneling them into the thick container. When his task was done, he took a deep breath, held the cool ceramic against his heart, and wept silently. He would do as he was asked and take the man who had been his Lamius father back to Asia. Once his ashes were scattered over the mountains, he was going to go to the council and petition for the right of the blood hunt -- the right to kill.

***** Eve jerked awake, her limbs twitching as she came back to full awareness. Sniffing against a sob, she reached up and wiped heavy, hot tears from her face. Her body racked with raw, bright pain that seemed to sear its way through her lungs and heart.

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The dreams, so vivid when she was being touched and tasted, now had invaded the nightmare part of her sleep. It was enough to make her want to panic. Instead, she took long, slow breaths and forced herself to calm down. This wasn’t what she needed, not when she only had what remained of the day to finalize the plans for the Fourth of July. It was a nightmare, a simple nightmare -- that was all. She had entwined parts of the dream she’d had while bathing with her anxiety and loneliness and her mind had created a horrifically sad nightmare. Swiping her hands over her face and hair, she shifted her weight and stood, determined to leave the bad dream behind. Even as she made her way to the shower, she heard those strange, garbled voices in her head again. She stopped abruptly, slamming her hands over her ears, trying to focus on any clear, untouched spot in her mind. Real fear, dark and wispy, curled up her spine and out to her veins. She was losing her mind, she thought shakily. She was. Or ... or maybe Gray was wrong. Maybe Griffin Keep was haunted. Maybe she was hearing voices of people who had lived here before.

“Yes ...” The answer floated unbidden into her thoughts; the voices immediately stopped, leaving behind an eerie silence she wasn’t sure she trusted anymore than the noise. “I am not going to do this, I am not going to do this,” she repeated over and over again. “It was the dream, that’s all, the nightmare. Just a nightmare. Just voices from the nightmare ...” Pushing herself into the shower, she flooded her body with cold water before warming the flow, scrubbing away the last dregs of sleep and the terrifying idea that she could be losing her grip on reality.

***** Rath stirred in his bed, the satin sheets tangled around his body sliding across his skin. He sensed someone in the room and his eyes popped open immediately, his gaze swinging to his right. He found Gray sitting in a padded chair, watching him sleep. “Ugh, Gray ... not exactly the face I wanted to see,” he grumbled, scrubbing his face with the palms of his hands. “And you wouldn’t have to see it if you had done what you’d agreed to,” Gray bit back softly, absently crossing his arms over his red plaid shirt. “I should cut your blood supply off, tell them to stop sending those nice little bags from the hospital. Maybe then you would listen. I knew the minute Eve finally stumbled downstairs this afternoon that you’d been with her -- again. Kept her up all night screwing her, didn’t you?” Rath sat up completely then, his eyes narrowing as he took in Gray’s features. So, he’d figured it out, Alrik thought, not able to care. He wasn’t surprised that the guard dog was here, ready to fight it out. He was amazed it had taken this long for a showdown.

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“Rath, I understand what you’re going through.” “Our situations don’t compare.” “You’re right, they don’t. My mistakes wouldn’t have endangered every living being on earth. They wouldn’t have changed the course of life.” “And mine will?” Rath snapped, his eyes blazing. “You know damn well they could. You son of a bitch, why did you do this? Why?” “I didn’t do anything she didn’t want.” “It doesn’t matter what she wants, Rath. We work for the Venefici Council; you know that. And you know witches don’t take kindly to being gainsaid or to having their orders ignored. Our job is to take care of her, to make sure she makes it to her twenty-sixth birthday so she can ascend. It doesn’t matter what she thinks she wants; it matters what she needs -- and who she is. You damn well know what could happen to her -- to you.” He ripped the sheet off his body, standing with his black pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. Gray stood as well, his height just meeting Alrik’s. Wordlessly they began to move, circling around each other like two animals ready to pounce. “Eve deserves better than this, Rath, and you know it.” “You want her, don’t you? You son of a bitch, you want for yourself!” he tossed out rawly. “You fucking idiot! I don’t want Eve; if I did, I could have had her,” he pointed out. “Bastard! You could never be good enough for her.” “And neither can you. What we are makes it impossible. Stop thinking with your dick, leech, and start using what’s left of your brain!” “Nice, look who’s talking! Your cock got you in trouble a long time ago.” “Don’t, Rath, don’t drag that out!” “Don’t drag what out, mutt? The fact that you fucked up so bad you had to go into hiding? That you left your pack, your family, and your obligations? That you turned into a fucking coward and ran away from being Alpha?” His voice rang off the walls, echoing from the stones and through the thick door. “You son of a bitch! You know I had to leave!” “Because your dick was fucking the wrong woman!” Gray’s body lengthened, the buttons on his shirt popping across the room, his jeans ripping as he silently kicked his boots away. His face contorted and stretched, his image taking on the outline of a vicious animal. Rath’s fangs grew, biting into his bottom lip as his blood quickened in his veins. The bones of his face became thicker, the skin stretching over his hardening features. “I can’t let you be with her,” the werewolf growled. “I can’t leave her alone,” the vampire hissed.

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They launched toward each other, their bodies colliding with a force that slammed them apart. Neither was addled, only riled, as they charged for each other again. Rath grabbed for Gray’s arms, trying to pull them around and behind the werewolf’s back. The other man took advantage of the situation and smashed his head directly into the vampire’s skull. Rath held onto Gray as his eyesight blurred from the blow, his untamed side taking over a kind of wild control as they fought. He let his opponent’s arms free, using the palms of his hard hands to strike into the werewolf’s kidneys. A howl rose from Gray’s throat as he struggled away, swiping with his now oversized fingers as he went. His nails made connection, scraping away four long lines of skin on Rath’s neck as he turned. Rath roared and spun, the pain from the blow only raising his blood lust. He brought his leg up, kicking and lashing out the way he’d been taught so long ago. His heel smacked into Gray’s extended jaw, snapping it with a clean thwack. The werewolf dove away, manipulating his body so that his long legs struck his adversary’s ankles. Rath felt the brush of Gray’s feet and jumped, his body hurling at an earthly speed as he propelled himself almost to the rafters. He was halfway down when the werewolf jumped as well, his eyes glowing as he snagged Rath across his bare chest. They both fell, crushing the chair beneath them as they fought for their footing. Gray gave a quick glance at the splintered wood then looked away. Rath heard him growl a split second before Gray rammed into his stomach, pushing him back a few inches before Rath swung them both around. Digging his heels in, Rath held onto the werewolf as he whirled, slamming Gray’s body into the wall, then dresser, bed and floor. Gray held on, digging his claws in so hard they punctured Rath’s flesh. Finally Rath pushed Gray to the floor, a situation Gray took full advantage of. With a quick turn, he flipped his legs up, grabbing Rath’s waist with his legs, and twisted him to the ground. Rath gasped for a quick moment, then hopped up from the stones, his legs as sturdy as he could have hoped for. He braced himself as Gray ran toward him again. At the last second, he jerked to the left then maneuvered himself quickly and neatly behind the snarling lycan. Grabbing his arm, he pulled the muscled limb up, hoping to gain the advantage and bring the fight to an end. Instead, Gray’s arm simply twisted around, easily slipping back around to the front -- and bringing Rath with it. Gray slammed him against the thick wooden door, his arm pressing against his neck as they stood nose to nose. Slowly, their faces smoothed, their bones contracting back to human form. “Double jointed, you damn bastard,” Rath ground out, no real heat touching the words. “Damn it, Rath, I don’t want to do this. You know, for all of our fighting, I think of you as a kind of ... mutant brother,” Gray rasped. “I don’t want to kill you, I really don’t. You have to stay away from her.”

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“I can’t.” “You have to, you know that. You can’t care for her.” “It’s too late.” Gray stared at the man against the door for a moment. “You can’t care for her, Rath. You can’t ... love her. How can you? You have no soul.” “No, I don’t,” Rath admitted, then let his steely blue gaze lock helplessly on Gray. “Eve has it.” The werewolf closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. With a sad sigh he let his arm fall away from Rath’s throat and took a step back. “I wish to God I didn’t know what you’re talking about,” Gray admitted. “But damn it, I do. You know what’s going to happen if you take her blood, don’t you?” “I’ll slit my own throat for you,” Rath replied, stonily serious. “If you still have any part of you left.” The other man fixed him with a hard, sure glare. “I will kill you, Alrik, as much as I hope I don’t have to.” Silence hung like a deep, heavy blanket as they stood toe to toe, then Gray turned away and left the room, leaving Rath bleeding and surrounded by his shattered furniture -- and his shattered emotions.

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Chapter Twelve Rath melted through the walls and into Eve’s room, his eyes flashing with inner turmoil. Memories of the fight he’d had earlier were still vividly clear, just as clear as the throbbing where he’d been scratched across his throat. He could have easily run from the altercation, moving through the walls and taking advantage of Gray’s inability to follow. But he knew that he deserved the beating; he understood that it had been a long time in coming. The werewolf had had every right to attack him and at least try to put Rath in his place. He hated that Gray was right; he knew this was dangerous for everyone involved and even those who weren’t. The woman he couldn’t stay away from had more power in one inch of skin than any being had in their entire body. If he lost control, if he took her blood, then all of that power would flood into him, and he would go mad. There was no way anyone other than the Sacred Child could control that kind of magic. Rubbing the nearly healed marks on his neck, he sank down in the padded wing chair across from Eve’s bed, his eyes focused on her sleeping form. Moonlight, bright and iridescent, poured in through the stained glass window, spilling brightly colored beams over her delicate face. He resisted the urge to reach out, to stroke her cheek -- to touch her. It had been a little less than twenty-four hours since he’d made her scream, and yet he found his cock hardening just watching her breathe. He’d never wanted someone this damn much, never. He should be terrified, but somehow he wasn’t. She stirred under the soft green covers that swathed her gentle curves, bringing her back to the light so that her features were thrown into darkness. It didn’t matter; he could still see her. He knew every piece and part of her, every turn and arch. He knew her so well that he didn’t have to kiss her to know her taste or touch her to know her feel.

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Even as he studied her, his mind felt for hers, longing to be linked with her in some way other than just physical. He paid no attention to the small voice of logic that warned him how dangerous his melding with her was. He needed this -- she needed this. He slipped into her thoughts and found himself surrounded by silver-blue fog, standing near the familiar fairy ring Eve’s mind seemed to re-create, even though she’d never been there. Memories, he thought, from the last Sacred Child. He saw her standing just outside the tree line, a long, white, gauzy dress swaying gently around her ankles. Her feet were bare, her small toes curling in the dew-soaked grass. Her hair, long and full, swung around her shoulders as the breeze caught and twirled it with long, invisible fingers. She was so beautiful that he felt his heart nearly bleed from the mere sight of her.

“Evelina ...” Rath heard the voice when she did, his mind immediately focusing on the oddly familiar voice. She moved away from the safety of the forest, following the sound of her name as if she were in a trance. He quickly followed, his thoughts full of sinister possibilities as the world around them began to grow darker. He wandered through the trees, over the hills, all the while careful to keep himself hidden. He almost slipped when she made her way to the cliffs, but she stopped several feet away, her head tilted as she listened through the surf for her name. When it came again, it was followed by a misty figure. “Eve,” the stranger said, his voice deep and soft. “I’ve been waiting for so long.” She turned to him, her eyes filled with curiosity as she studied him. He was tall and rangy with dark mahogany hair that hung in wild abandon around his face. His dark eyes were bright and sure, his jaw long under high cheekbones. And yet she didn’t feel the familiar desire that normally accompanied her dream man. “You aren’t the man I dream about.” “Does it matter? Aren’t I handsome enough for you?” he asked as he came completely out of the fog. “Who ... who are you?” she asked barely above a whisper. “I am the man you need,” he told her, reaching out to gently stroke her cheek. “I have been looking for you for a very long time, little love.” Rath felt Eve’s instant dislike of the stranger. He experienced her struggle as she fought back the urge to pull away, instead standing her ground as she waited for him to continue. Disconcerted, Rath cautiously slid his way closer to the cliffs in her mind, careful to keep himself hidden as he moved. “Evelina, you have been so hard to find. Why do you hide from me?”

“Come back to the woods,” Rath whispered into her thoughts.

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Rath felt her mind swirl with relief and delight when his voice called her back. She spun around immediately, searching for but not finding him.

“Trust me, Veneficus, and come back to the fairy ring.” “What is it, Eve? What is it you hear?” the other man asked, his gaze suddenly going hard and cold. “Is someone trying to pull you away from me?” “I -- I have to go,” she stuttered, turning quickly to leave. His hand snaked out and snapped her wrist in a vicious grip. “Where are you going, Evelina?” She began to struggle just before Rath shoved her captor backward, sending Cain stumbling. Taking advantage, she staggered away, hurrying toward the protection of the trees. Cain waited until Eve had disappeared before sneering into the swirling blue mists. “Rath, why am I not surprised?” he asked, chuckling. “You always were a puppet for the Venefici. You know I’ve touched her mind already, father; you can’t undo the damage.” Alrik faded in from the fog, his face set in violently controlled lines. Losing his temper would do no good, not inside of Eve’s mind. He wasn’t willing to risk causing her damage she couldn’t explain. “I see you found who you were looking for,” he said coolly, his blue eyes never flinching. “What do you expect to do now?” “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’ll worm my way in further ... find a reason that she might want me to stay,” Cain replied conversationally. “She’s a beautiful woman, so full of life, so full of ... magic.” Rath almost let himself go -- almost. Instead he tightened his jaw and let his gaze spark hot and furious with warning. “Oh, oh, I think I see; I think I know what’s going on. You aren’t just her lackey, are you? Not that I could blame you, she’s definitely got a body that begs to be taken.” Immediately, the older man blocked his thoughts, knowing what his ex-student would attempt. He waited to feel the probing fingers of Cain’s thoughts, but nothing touched him. Too late he realized that the other vampire was reaching for Eve instead. He knew the moment that Cain saw exactly what was between them. “My God, she’s a hot little thing, isn’t she?” he smirked, licking his lips at the thought of what he’d seen and felt. “Is she as good to fuck as she believes you are?” “You son of a bitch! Leave her --” He was cut off by the glacial strip of awareness that told him Cain had taken advantage of his fury, slipping into the small, almost imperceptible opening his anger had left. He felt the memories being touched, taken, and weighed for the split second that Cain was inside his mind. He recovered quickly, pushing him away with a mental shove.

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“Shit, Rath, she’s ... hell, she’s incredible,” the other man breathed. “No wonder you keep her hidden away. She can fuck like nobody else. And there’s something else,” he continued, his words going soft. “It’s something ... indescribable. Not just her hot little body, not just her tight pussy ...” Alrik roared with unspent rage, hurtling his ferocity toward his adversary. Cain let out a surprised hiss as his form was splintered from Eve’s dreams, his presence evaporating like fine dust. Angry about his slip, Rath took a deep, cleansing breath and let his eyes close. “Fucking idiot,” he cursed himself. “Damn stupid ass. You played into his hands and now he’s found a weakness. He’s found a connection. Shit!” ***** Cain’s eyes shot open, the irises dilating as he woke in his own bed. He was sweating, his heart pounding and his cock heavy as the feelings and pieces of memories he’d taken coursed through him. What Eve had felt had been amazing, but what Rath had experienced had been beyond words. His blood ran like an inferno, pumping through his veins in a fire that seemed unquenchable. The need for a woman was unbearable, and, even as something inside of him was screaming for Eve, he turned to Iliana. He longed for contact, needed to be acknowledged and soothed. But more than that, there was an overriding urge to fuck, to be fucked in return, to drive the painful lust-filled passion out of his system. His hand snaked over and latched onto the soft, pliant globes of her tits, squeezing them with sweating palms and trembling fingers. He leaned down, drew a nipple between his teeth and sucked it to a lead hard peak. His free hand shaped and molded her other breast, digging his nails harshly into the creamy flesh as he took her. His mind was filled with the feelings that swarmed through his blood, images and emotions tied into one long, hot shaft of lust and undeniable need. Eve’s features flashed into his thoughts, the image of her body, the picture of her face as she came with hard shudders. The idea of her being impaled by his rock solid cock pushed him to wrap himself over his lover. Iliana woke to his body covering hers, his mouth reining kisses along her jaw, her ears and her neck. He paused for a moment, his lips resting against her soft flesh, long enough to feel her shutter, then slammed into her as he eased his sharp fangs through her skin. She began to writhe underneath him, swirling in the sensual colors and patterns his feeding created while her hips rose and fell with in a vicious rhythm. His cock sank into her over and over, her juices coating him as he rammed harder and faster. She groaned and purred, sliding her hand between them to find her clit. As she began to rotate on the raised flesh, he brought his teeth out of her, pulled her head to his throat, and lifted himself above her. “Take my blood,” he demanded, his voice raw with desperation.

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She did as he bid with glee, puncturing his flesh and his mind. As her teeth sank in, images flooded through him. He knew they were ebbing into her mind, pictures of a woman and a man having long, hot sex. Cain thrust his solid shaft into her, rubbing against her now swollen walls with forceful movements. His mind hazed with the orgasm that lurked just under his skin, but the images of the couple only grew more intense. As Iliana’s body began to quiver and quake underneath him, the faces became more apparent, their features sharpening as he focused. There was the enticing woman, one that he couldn’t help fantasizing about taking and feeding from. Iliana clung to Cain, the pictures she was taking from his mind broadening and growing in depth. They shifted and changed, creating whole, complete scenes. Then the heaving man in the images was suddenly too easy to recognize. She gazed at the body, saw the innate strength of his rippling muscles, the firmness of his ass as he drove in and out, and the length and thickness of the cock. Alrik Rath. The sight of him in her mind brought on the first wave of her orgasm, splintering her thoughts as she took Cain’s shaft as far in as her body would allow. Her growls and moans echoed off the walls of the bedroom, growing to a full, thick scream as she came loud and hard. She wrapped herself around Cain as he roared his approval, slamming into her with a final, brutal push. His cock pulsed against her quaking walls as he shot his hot, sticky come inside of her, all the while picturing Alrik on top of her.

***** Gray’s cell phone sent up a shrill, shrewish shriek in the dark quiet of his room. The sound jumped off the stone walls and assaulted his ears, bringing him to a gruff, reluctant wakefulness. He rolled over quickly, intent on shutting the noise up, and unintentionally pulled on his bruised ribs. Gray sucked in a harsh, ragged breath as he jerked the offending piece of modern technology to his ear. “This had better be damn good,” he growled into the phone. “Gray, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be awake by now,” Abram said conversationally. Letting out a long suffering breath, the younger man gingerly sat up, letting the cool white sheet fall down his naked chest to his waist. No matter how angry the old man made him, no matter how unintentionally he made Gray’s life difficult, he couldn’t hold a grudge against the head of the Venefici Council. After all, he was a good man who only wanted to keep his family and friends safe. “No, Abram, I should be awake, but I was restless last night. It took me forever to fall asleep,” he half lied, hoping the other man would accept the excuse.

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“Well, I’m truly surprised that my granddaughter has allowed you to stay in bed until, what, nine in the morning? With the party coming up tomorrow night, I thought she would have dragged you out of bed at dawn,” the old man said with ill concealed laughter. “Guess she’s either tired from all the planning, or she’s doing just fine without me,” Gray groused. “Um, yes, well, let’s hope that’s all.” “If anything else was happening I would have felt it or one of the staff would have gotten me.” “Or Rath would have found you,” Abram put in quietly. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied nonchalantly. “Has he been ... good to Eve?” Good, Gray thought, fighting back a loud laugh. Good was a definite understatement, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to step foot on that path of conversation with the old man. “Rath’s been fine. He’s stopped more dark Lamiai from touching her mind, and she has yet to realize who he is.” “Realize who he is? What does that mean?” Abram questioned intently. Gray could have gladly slammed his already battered body into the wall for that small slip. Shit, how was he supposed to think when he’d been yanked from a deep sleep? Damn it, Rath was going to owe him a hell of a lot more than a favor for this. “Sorry, I guess that came out wrong. She doesn’t know she’s being watched by a vampire,” he elaborated, hoping his gauze thin cover-up wouldn’t be too easy to see through. “Well, that will change,” the Veneficus muttered. “We’ll be coming in a week to prepare her. That will be three weeks from her birthday; hopefully it will be enough time for her to come to terms with what she is, what she will become, and still be close enough to her birthday to keep her as safe as possible.” “She’ll be fine, Abram. We’re all watching out for her, taking care of her even when she doesn’t know it. She’s been distracted with the party,” with Rath, he added silently, “and she’s been fairly content on the estate. I promise you, she is as safe as she could possibly be.” “I know, I know.” There was a pause, then Eve’s grandfather added, “Gray, if she does ... feel Rath, if she asks questions about him --” “I’ll be sure to keep her from finding out,” he swore. Again there was a long hesitation, as if Abram were considering how to respond. Finally, he gave a deep sigh. “Yes, of course, exactly as we had planned. She isn’t to know about Alrik, not yet. Now, out of bed with you, Gray. I’m sure Eve has a mile long list ready to hand you.” The younger man grunted in response, shutting off the cell phone when he heard Abram’s chuckle. It was going to be one hell of a long day.

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Chapter Thirteen Eve stood at the gate to Griffin Keep and greeted her guests with smiles, hugs, and handshakes. Behind her little glass bottles clanked together, sending out pleasant waves of sound as they swung from the branches of the trees. She’d been told they were signs of luck, though she was weary of the explanation. She hadn’t asked them to be taken down, though; the decorations not only made the people she lived with happy, they also lent a kind of homey feel to the festivities. Guests poured in, all dressed in comfortable, bright clothes. The small round tables were set up on the lawn, the crisp white cloths that covered them dancing around the edges. Small sprays of bright red and white flowers with shiny garland sprays adorned the middle of the tables, decorations that she herself had helped to create. Not far from the tables stood a long buffet filled with the usual grilled fare and icy drinks; across from the food-laden tables a wooden dance floor had been erected. A small local band would be playing bright, happy tunes in a few hours, inviting people to dance and laugh. It was perfect, she thought, and it was exactly what she needed. The erotic dreams she’d been having were beginning to disturb her, not because they frightened her, but because they had begun to feel all too real. Those images, along with the strange voices that had been assaulting her on and off, had set her on the jagged edge of calm. “You look worried,” Gray mumbled from beside her, his hazel gaze taking in her suddenly troubled face. “No, no, I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile. “Yeah, well, you’d better be saving your energy. In that get up there’s no way you’ll be sitting out during the dancing,” he commented with a friendly wink. Eve gave him a raised eyebrow as she looked down at her strapless blue sundress, wondering why anyone would find the simple lines and soft linen anything but wholesome.

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Flipping her French braid over her shoulder, she shook her head at him and patted his arm consolingly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t be a wall flower either,” she teased, allowing her eyes to skim his perfectly honed body that was draped in a red T-shirt and over-washed jeans. “You even wore tennis shoes instead of your usual work boots.” “It wouldn’t do for me to break your toes when you teach me how to waltz,” he joked back. The sound of laughter trilled up the road, heralding another group of guests at their gate. It was going to be a long, but enjoyable, night, she decided, then turned to meet her newest guests.

***** Eve stood on the parapet as a humid breeze ruffled both her skirt and the rebellious tendrils of her braid that had escaped. It had been a wonderful afternoon, one filled with laughter and music and people. She’d chatted happily with the men and women of the village, enjoying their company, catching up on gossip and family happenings. When the dancing had started, she had found herself passed from one set of arms to another, twirling and swinging with the boisterous music. By the time the sun had begun its quick descent the food had been demolished and everyone had been thoroughly, pleasantly exhausted. Any moment now the fireworks would start, lighting up the darkening sky with amazingly vivid colors. She’d already scouted out the best location to watch them, and even though it was also the most deserted place right now, it afforded a view she knew couldn’t be rivaled. As she waited, she played with the small golden charm bracelet she’d found on her dresser that morning. There was only one small pendant, a filigree fantasy of a castle, which hung from the delicate links. She had no idea who had brought it to her, though she was beginning to have suspicions about the small gifts she’d been finding that others might find ... unsettling. The first hiss caught her attention as a firework shot up into the sky. It popped loudly, exploding into a waterfall of sparkling silver and blue. She smiled brightly, dismissing her tangled thoughts for the moment as the display continued, leaning her elbows on the stone barrier while she watched in fascination. The tiny bursts shimmered above her as the world faded away, leaving only herself and the flickering, glittery lights of blues, reds, and golds. He faded in behind her, melting through the walls as he focused on her slender form. Her scent drifted over the air, the rich texture of musk underscoring her warm, natural aroma. She was shockingly beautiful, a tragic princess in her castle awaiting her ascent to the throne. His fingers itched to reach up and pull her hair free of its braid, to feel the soft, silky texture cascade over his thighs as she took his cock between her pliant lips.

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She sighed dreamily as the otherworldly lights glittered around her visage, the sound gentle and utterly female. He wanted to walk away, just as he’d planned to do from the beginning. But he’d learned these last few weeks that his plans didn’t mean a damn thing when it came Eve. He moved closer to her, stopping just a few desperate inches from touching her. He watched in fascination as her delicate skin began to glow with a rosy hue and rise in tiny bumps. She knew he was there, he realized with a disconcerting start. Yet she wasn’t turning, wasn’t trying to find him, almost as if she were afraid he’d disappear if she tried to. She knew he was there. She didn’t question how it was possible; in truth, she didn’t want to know. She’d been thinking of him all day, of her dreams, of the feel of his mouth on her, of his bringing her so expertly to climax, popping into her mind without rhyme or reason. She began to shift her weight when she realized he was there, nearly touching her, his presence bleeding into her like a heady mist. “I arise from dreams of thee, in the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are

breathing low, and the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, and a spirit in my feet, has led me -- who knows how? -- to thy chamber-window, sweet!” The phantom whispered in her ear, sending tiny, thrilling shivers up and down her bones. She let out a deep, silent breath, allowing her eyes to fall closed as she allowed his words to stroke over her as sensually as his hands so often did in her dreams. He continued in a deep, quiet voice, “The wandering airs they faint, on the dark, the

silent stream, the champak odors fail, like sweet thoughts in a dream, the nightingale’s complaint, it dies upon her heart, as I must die on thine, O, beloved as thou art!” She felt warm, thick fingers trailing up her bare arms, gently caressing her naked shoulders. The sensation was so hypnotic she thought she might fall to her knees if he stopped. “O, Lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain on my lips and

eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast: Oh! Press it close to thine again, where it will break at last!” As the last lines from Shelley’s poem faded beneath the hiss of blooming colors, Eve found herself meltingly hot, her breasts swollen as her nipples pressed like hard pebbles against the cotton of her dress. Her legs trembled slightly as moisture gathered, sweltering and sure, in her silky panties. “I wish this was real,” she breathed, only vaguely aware she’d put her thoughts into words. She waited, wanting, wondering, then shivered when he took a slow taste of her skin. The moment his lips touched her insides began to quiver, already hot with anticipation. She

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felt his cock grow into a full rigid state as he pressed against her, biting her bottom lip as he hissed softly against her throat. “You are real to me,” she told him softly as fireworks danced in blue and silver above them. Ghost or not, he was the fantasy man that she’d dreamed of since she’d first experienced stirrings of sexual desire. “No matter what happens, you are the reality I want.” “I want you,” he rasped, nuzzling her earlobe. “I want to take you right here, Eve; tell me I can, tell me you want me, too.” She nodded mutely as his hands continued to stroke her, working their way from her arms to her stomach. His fingers crept up, skimming over her ribs and then, finally, easing over her breasts. He glided over the swell of her exposed cleavage, swirling little circles on her bare, tingling skin. “Yes, God, yes,” she feverishly replied. She heard him make a strangled sound before he carefully drew his fingertips from her cleavage. He leaned closer to her ear, nestling his jaw against her barely controlled hair. “Go to your bedroom, take a shower and lie down on your bed. Don’t wear anything, just your lovely, naked skin. When you’re ready, I’ll be there.” On that promise he departed, leaving her breathless as his words played in her thoughts. As the final volley of fireworks rocketed into the sky, Eve lifted her eyelids and tried desperately not to simply melt to the ground. She was already so painfully aroused that she wasn’t sure if she could move, let alone do as he’d asked. And what did it say about her that she was ready to run to her room and prepare herself for a ghost? Was she crazy? Had she finally, completely snapped? After all, she was hearing voices no matter how hard she tried not to. She had been dreaming of him, feeling him between her thighs, experiencing orgasms that she knew instinctively would never be matched. Hadn’t she climaxed, coming in one long, hot burst while gardening for no apparent reason? And what about the constantly switched nightgowns, the fresh cut flowers, the notes, the jewelry ... it felt better to say that those things had happened because of a ghost rather than the loss of her mind. It was easier to accept, which was why she refused to question her ready and willing attitude about the whole situation. If she were crazy, then she’d revel in it. She’d live in it and sink into it, letting the man she had created touch her and fulfill her in a way no other waking man had.

***** Eve stepped out of the shower, the warm water beaded on her flushed skin. The fog of steam swirled around her, ghosting the mirror as she began to dry her body with a fluffy, white towel. She moved the cotton over her limbs, the movements languid and sensual as she dried herself. Strange how something so mundane could become so sexually charged when she was vibrating in anticipation.

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A ghost, her logical side whispered; you are convincing yourself that this is a specter and not some creation from your fevered, lonely mind. He isn’t real, what you think he does to you isn’t real. You are creating him. That is the only rational explanation. If you don’t stop, if you fall too far into this fantasy, you’ll never come back. But why would she want to go back? Her hands stilled as she caught the hazy reflection of her lush curves in the mirror. Why would she go back; it was a valid question. Did it really matter anymore what was real and what wasn’t? This man had given her the kind of pleasure she’d only read about in novels. He had given her feelings that she’d never dreamed to have. Hell, even his voice made her tremble with instant need. If she were truly going mad, then she couldn’t think of a better way to lose her mind than to a ghostly lover. One that made her come with such intensity she sobbed with it, one that knew exactly where to touch, how to kiss, how to nip and stroke. No, she wasn’t going to allow herself to wonder about the realities of a man who had promised to fuck her in all the right, torrid ways. She wanted this, needed this, and she was going to take it. She’d worry about her sanity later, when her body was satisfied and her mind could think clearly. With her jaw tight in resolve and her body throbbing with eagerness, she stepped, nude, from the bathroom. Her eyes opened in wide shock when she saw the candles lighting the room. The flames flickered against the stone walls, the shadows they cast somehow softer than they usually were.

“Lie down.” His voice floated around her, sending thick, heady currents of deep warmth rippling down her spine. Her nipples hardened quickly, the sensitive nubs stretched in painfully delicious points. Doing as he bid, she moved gracefully to the bed, crawling on top of the soft white sheets, her already inflamed skin shivering as the cool cotton touched her.

“So beautiful.” Her breath escaped in a long, full sigh as she waited. Then he was there, dissolving through the walls as he appeared before her. He stood just across the room, his muscled body garbed in black. His dark hair caught the gentle candlelight as he stared at her with bright, unforgiving blue eyes. The sharp planes of his face were shadowed in the dimness as he stood and studied her with breathtaking intensity. “I have wanted you from the beginning,” he confessed quietly. “Then please, take me,” she pleaded softly. He moved then, his limbs shifting with an almost impossible grace as he slowly stripped the clothes from his body. Each piece fluttered and fell, landing on the floor in silence, exposing his solid abs and broad, defined chest. “You’re magnificent,” she breathed, her heart hitching as he stopped at the foot of the bed.

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As he watched her, he peeled his soft pants from his legs, showing her his lean thighs and a thin covering of dark hair. His body was hard and chiseled in a way she’d never seen a man’s, the plains carved by a gracious God that deserved the highest praise. His cock stood out, hard and proud, thick and long, twitching when her gaze landed on it. Her tongue reached out to involuntarily wet her dry lips. “Do I please you?” he asked. The question sounded raw, as if he weren’t used to digging for compliments. The idea made him all the more appealing, banishing any lingering doubts about her sanity, or lack of. “You are more than any woman could ask for,” she replied, carefully pushing herself up to her elbows. “How is it ... how can this be so ...” “Shh,” he hushed her gently, walking to where she lay. “Turn around, lay on your stomach.” She quirked an eyebrow but said nothing as she flipped over. If this was a fantasy, then she would follow through with whatever her imagination had conjured. After all, she’d already had the best sex of her life in her dreams with this man. He watched her as she turned, his blood thrumming as she gave him the expanse of her back. With easy self-confidence he stretched his hand out to pick up the tall, warm bottle of oil that stood behind the candles on the dresser. Sinking down on the mattress beside her, he twisted the top of the glass bottle off. With a carefully steady hand, he poured a long, slow line of the warmed, scented oil down the hollow of her back. She gave a little jump, then sighed as the fragrance of jasmine wafted around her nose. His hands began massaging, working the thick liquid into her pliant skin with lengthy swipes of his palms. He smiled when she began to purr, her body melting under his ministrations. His fingers splayed out, moving the jasmine oil over her shoulders, her ribs, the small of her back, massaging the muscles underneath as he moistened her skin. Eve buried her head deeper into her crossed arms, as he continued to work her muscles. Their contact evoked little fires that heated his veins and tightened his crotch. He felt her bones turn to gel as he caressed and fondled her with slow, deliberate movements. His hand trailed over her hips, rubbing the warm oil further down. Silently she lifted her hips, coaxing him on. Rath heard her thoughts as she became hotter, more ready for him than he had imagined she’d be. Careful to block his own stormy thoughts, he moved his strokes downward, massaging her delicate inner thighs. His fingers skimmed toward her knees, kneading the tight muscles of her flanks and then, finally, down her long calves. She groaned with pleasure, delighting in the relaxing attention while zings of a purely sexual nature ran like mercury over her senses. He felt her sensitivity, tried to stop the ramped need that their

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emotions, mixed and mingled, were causing. His cock jumped, his balls tightening for a moment as vicious heat speared him. “Over,” he ordered. She immediately did as he bid, flipping her languid limbs in a soft turn. As the air swirled around her aroused nipples, cascading over the damp curls of her swelling lips, he saw the bumps rise on her heated skin as her eyes gradually closed. He watched her and began to quake with a liquefied lust that sent a violent shudder through his body. His hands smoothed over her heated skin, laving the oil and working it in with methodic circles. His fingers brushed down her collarbone, down the globes of her breasts, to the hard tipped ends. She jumped under him, arching into his touch like a cat as she purred in her throat. He held in a long, hard hiss as he played with her nipples, flicking and pulling on them as she twisted on the bed. His dick was so engorged that he thought he might explode before he even had a chance to slide into her sopping walls. Eve bowed and sighed as his palms moved down her stomach, over her ribs, the heat from the oil and friction from skin on skin almost unbearable. He could feel the fire of her body, scorching him from the inside out, her sighs and moans becoming louder as her arousal grew. With deliberate strokes, he moved his hands to her inflamed folds, gliding over the hot lips and wet curls with careful caresses. She gasped as his finger plunged into her, the invasion aided by the fragrant oil and her own flowing fluids. Her scent drifted to and around him, invading his blood with its rich tones. It made him crazy, the way her fragrance could make him so instantly needy. He pushed his fingers inside of her, first one, then two, stretching her, rubbing the swollen walls as they jumped and contracted. He wanted to be inside her, wanted his cock to be the hard, sure phallus that brought her to orgasm. She whimpered when he moved away, protesting the loss of his touch. With one smooth move he was there; he covered her, the heat from her skin soaking into him as he slid along her oiled flesh. Her thighs parted easily, giving him access without any hesitation. Fighting for control, he pressed his rigid, thick cock against her opening. “Beautiful ... mine,” he rasped, then slammed into her with sweet force. She arched and moaned, her cavern swallowing him as he pushed as far as he could go. His head, full and solid, rubbed against her womb. He spiraled up, quickly and absolutely, his stomach clenching as he moved in and out. She rose and fell with him, pushing him as she matched his fast, hard rhythm. The feeling was glorious, the heated walls he expanded forming the perfect mold. She groaned deeply, her voice echoing in louder and higher pitches as he took them both closer and closer to orgasm. He crashed into her, sliding his cock with hard, fast friction into her deep, wet walls. He heard the blood rushing through her veins, the pounding of her heart a cadence that he tried to keep pace with. Her throat worked as she moaned and sighed for him, coaxing him into a deeper tempo as small beads of perspiration popped out of her pores. The rush of the

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sweet liquid just underneath her skin was almost too much to bear. He could almost taste the coppery saltiness of it, could swear the life-giving plasma was rolling in his mouth. Then he felt the razor sharp edges of his fangs, realized they had cut through and elongated without his knowing, and knew that he tasted his own blood. Desperately, his mind strengthened the link he’d already created with her, determined to keep his control over his blood lust. Unaware of the temptation that she was creating, Eve arched her back and neck, ramming her hips into his. Her hand reached between them to find her clit, plainly intent on slamming into the orgasm that he could hear singing fervently through her body. Quickly he shoved her fingers away and replaced them with the blunt, roughened pad of his own. She gasped in ecstasy as he flicked easily, surely, matching his thrusts to the circles of his fingertip. He was with her as she screamed, linked as she orgasmed with a ferocity he’d never experienced. The world imploded for both of them, sparking the dark with arcs of light. His cock tightened, then spasmed as he came, joining her while she cried in ecstasy. He came in extended, powerful shots, filling her with his wet fluid. Her walls trembled around him, gushing and squeezing in the final throws. She flew apart again and again, and he absorbed her shudders as she climaxed with him. The world around them became one tiny microcosm of feeling, encompassing only Eve, Rath, and what they had just created.

***** Cain chewed absently on a stripped piece of bone as he sat inside the car and studied the map. Beside him, Iliana delicately wiped the last of the blood from her lips as she finished kicking the body of the horny night clerk from their silver Lexus. “Have you figured out where we’re going yet, love?” she asked conversationally, the power of what she’d just done still zipping through her veins. “Hmm, not really,” he replied absently. “I feel her, I know I do, and I can still feel Rath, no matter how hard he tried to break our bond. I just have to figure out exactly where this is coming from.” She tried not to roll her lovely eyes as she checked for any stray blood spatters that might be on her lavender tank top. When he had suggested a road trip she’d been excited, thinking that he must have seen where the Sacred Child and her ex-lover were. But apparently he’d just decided to follow his instincts and travel around with no obvious strategy. The first day had been annoying, but this second day had become tedious. She had to be careful, though; no matter how frustrated she might be with him, Cain was her link to the woman who would make her ruler of the world. “We need to find a place to stay,” she purred, slinking her long body across the seat to drape over his.

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He gave her an indulgent smile, an owner to his favorite pet, and gently stroked her long blond hair. “You’re right, love, the sun will be up in an hour. I believe I saw a hotel just down the street.” She smiled in smug contentment, allowed the illusion of ditzy worship to hang around her even as her mind spun with plans. He would take her to the source of the greatest power on earth -- and then she would show him exactly what kind of vampire she was.

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Chapter Fourteen Gray stood at the front of the circular drive and pushed his hands in his jeans pockets, the frustration rolling off of him like waves of hot steam. It had been the longest, most aggravating week of his life ... and he’d led a damn hard life so far. He had hoped that Rath would have used his head to think with instead of his dick, but of course that hadn’t happened. No, the libido-driven, centuries-old vampire continued to visit Eve, taking pleasure where he shouldn’t. Damn it to hell, he hadn’t signed on to be a watchdog for Alrik; he was only supposed to be taking care of Eve. But no, now the bastard had made it so that he had no choice. He had to stay awake and alert when he felt the sexual tension grow in the castle; had to sit just outside her room with a stake, a cross, and a scowl. It fucking sucked. And, damn it, he wasn’t going to keep doing it, not now that Abram was coming. He’d let the old man worry about what to tell his granddaughter, what to keep from her, and whether to cast some sort of spell to keep them apart. He’d had practically no sleep for seven days and needed a fucking break. He heard the car coming down the road even though it wasn’t anywhere close to being in view. Just what he needed, he thought with a feral sneer. The old man was coming and he’d have to figure out a way to play go-between. Hell, if he didn’t like Abram so much, he’d just let the Veneficus deal with what was going on by himself. But as it was, the old spell caster was not only a good man, but a good friend as well. He owed him at least the veil of secrecy over Eve’s sex life with a vamp. As he watched, he saw a plume of dust rise as a screech of reckless wheels echoed over the trees. Abram might be a grandfather, but he still drove like a crazy teenage boy, Gray thought with a crooked smile. You couldn’t pay most people to sit in the passenger’s seat when the old man was behind the wheel.

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The little red mini flew at spectacular speed down the hill, the sunlight glinting off the highly polished paint as it came ever closer. Gray squinted his hazel eyes and cupped a hand over his eyebrows, trying to catch a glimpse of the wild smile he knew was on the face of the man driving. As the little car approached, he caught a whiff of something familiar, something that stirred his cock and ripped his heart all at once. He had to be imagining it, he thought frantically. It was the late nights, the long days, and the constant worrying about the state of the world. There was no way she would be here. No way. The mini skidded to an abrupt halt just in front of his feet, a deed that would have had a mortal man quaking. Instead, Gray stood, desperately trying to find even footing for his mind, not at all worried that Abram might make road kill of him. “Gray, my boy!” A tall, thin man unfolded himself from the drivers side, his long legs stretching comfortably as he stood. The younger man tore his gaze from the sun-glared windshield to look at Abram and he felt his lips twitch. He looked like a professor on vacation with his tweed pants, white polo shirt, and wire-rimmed glasses. All he was missing was the pipe. “Abram, punctual as usual. Your study has been opened and the supplies have been taken care of,” Gray said, strolling a bit closer. “If you need anything --” His words died a violent death in his throat when a viciously familiar head of red hair bobbed out of the passenger’s side, followed by the strikingly beautiful face that had been imprinted on his heart for years. She stared at him appearing as stunned as he was, her cat green eyes wide as she assessed him. Her aroma surrounded him, the heady scent of warm vanilla that was imbedded in her skin, setting his blood on instant, painful fire. Her features, faintly dusted with charming freckles, flushed with a rosy hue that he’d never forgotten as she stared at him. The world whooshed down to simply her, the halo of loose copper curls, the depth of her eyes, the luscious curves of her body. It was all the same as it had been since the day he’d left her. “Oh, Gray, I’m sure you remember Julia,” Abram said casually, seemingly oblivious to the sparks cascading around him. “I brought her because I’m going to need help teaching Eve. Heaven knows we don’t have much time to get her ready.” Gray turned to level dagger sharp eyes at the old man, furious that he had brought Julia here to the keep. Damn it to hell, didn’t he know what kind of danger he’d placed her in? Before he could toss the angry words out, the woman in question let her own tense sentence go. “Abram, why the hell didn’t you tell me?” she bit out. “Tell you what? At this time in the universe do our petty lives really matter? Do our squabbles count?” he asked, his eyes on the pretty young woman. “If Eve isn’t taught properly, we’ll all be dead.”

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A deep silence fell, one that not even nature thought to interrupt, as Gray tucked his fury back under his skin. The old man was right, none of it mattered, not right now, and especially not if Eve didn’t make it to her birthday. “Come inside,” Gray said gruffly as he turned on his heel and headed back inside the castle. He didn’t bother to look behind him to see if they followed; he could feel her like blistering heat against his back and knew she was there. What was he going to do? Ignore her, his mind whispered; just get through the next few weeks and then she’ll leave. She had to. As the trio gathered in the entryway, the sound of footsteps brought their attention up and to their right. Eve appeared, her face relaxed and luminous as her feminine peach sundress settled around her knees. Her honey-brown hair fell on her shoulders in a thick mane, her velvet eyes shone with a satisfied gleam. She looked like a woman who had been ridden so well and so thoroughly that the world was completely and totally right. “Grandfather! I didn’t realize you were coming in,” Eve gushed, hurrying down the stairs to greet Abram. “If I’d known I would have met you at the airport.” “Oh, you know I like to drive,” he replied, smiling as she pushed herself into his arms. “Yes, I know, which is why I would have picked you up,” she teased, pulling away carefully. “Besides, I’m sure Gray would have liked a day away.” The young man smiled at her, his grin lopsided as he pulled on a strand of her hair. “You know I love Griffin Keep; besides, if I left for a few hours, it’d fall apart without me.” “Uh-huh,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes to heaven. “The trees will tumble, the walls will crumble, and the sky will fill with storms.” He laughed, the sound full and rich as she made fun of him. Julia watched them, her sharp gaze suspicious. “Well, I’m glad to see that you two are getting along,” Abram said with a chuckle. “Now, Evelina, I’d like you to meet one of my co-workers, who was my best pupil before she became a teacher. Eve, Julia Bennett. Julia, this is my granddaughter, Eve.” “Nice to meet you, Julia,” she greeted. “I’ve heard so much about you; it’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” the other woman said, taking Eve’s hand. “Um, Gray, why don’t you take Julia up to her room while I talk to my granddaughter? We have so much to catch up on.” Gray shoulders tensed; he nodded absently in agreement, turning to head outside and collect their bags. Julia was hot on his heels. She tamped down her initial response to yell

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and shove at Gray; instead, she forced herself to take deep, steady breaths, reminding herself that he had left her. Gone from her life, ran from her life ... whatever, it didn’t matter. The result was the same. They hadn’t been a couple for ten long years; she had obviously never meant as much to him as he had to her. As angry as she was over her flash of jealousy, she knew that she had no right to judge him. Not really. “So, you and Eve,” she said at length. “What about Eve and me?” he asked, pulling cases from the Mini. “You and Eve are ... a couple.” He choked on his laughter, dropping the black luggage as he turned to gaze at Julia. “No, we’re not a couple,” he said sternly, turning back to pick up the bags. “But she’s plainly close to you,” Julia hedged, unconvinced. “I mean, it’s clear she’s had a good, long session of sex; it’s written all over her.” “A good, long session of sex? Are you complementing me?” he questioned, heading toward the door. “Damn it, Gray, stop that! Give me a straight answer, will you?” “I did, Julia. Eve and I --” “Then who the hell put that look on her face?” He stopped abruptly and turned his steely hazel gaze to her. She felt her lungs freeze as reality smacked her clearly in the solar plexus. “Oh, God, no. Rath,” she breathed, the implications running through her head. “That bastard! He knows he shouldn’t be ... and what about you? Why didn’t you stop him?” “I tried to,” he sighed, “I tried talking to him, reasoning with him, then I threatened him. And then I actually fought with him.” “Obviously none of that worked.” “Obviously. There’s no way you can stop a determined, powerful vamp and a sexually adventurous and attention-starved woman from screwing each other’s brains out. I found that out the hard way.” Julia stared at Gray’s back as he trudged back into the castle, his hands laden with her luggage. There was a small, treacherous part of her that was relieved to hear that it was Alrik Rath who had been sleeping with Eve; but the rest of her, the logical and practical parts, was terrified. It would be devastating if a vampire managed to find Eve and drink her blood. But if Alrik, one of the oldest vampires still alive, lost control, even for one moment, and sank his fangs into her ... Damn it, the whole universe would suffer.

***** Cain stood at the balcony of the hotel, the night breeze rolling over his naked chest as the ocean pounded the rocks below. The moon was just a sliver, but its brightness still struck

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silvery fingers over the ripples of water. It was an awe-inspiring view, had he bothered to focus on it. Instead he stood and cleared his mind, honing in on the pull he felt. She was calling to him, her power reaching out to beckon him to her. He could still feel her underneath him, her silken hair wrapped in his fists, her whiskey eyes glazed with pleasure, her moist, fragrant skin pliant under his fingertips. Oh, he wanted her, with a kind of painful need that, even now, had his cock hard and ready. He wanted to taste her, to have her pussy wrapped around him like a hard vice, to have her tremble and call as she came. Maybe he didn’t have to kill her to have her power, he thought feverishly. Maybe he could have a taste of her; maybe he could simply sip at her blood and inherit her powers. Even as he thought it he knew he was wrong. The legend said in order to take all her powers he had to drink all of her life essence. But maybe he could have her as he drank from her. Maybe he could mesmerize her as he fucked her, driving himself in and out while he consumed her blood. The idea was so appealing that he almost exploded on the spot. Iliana lay sprawled across the bed, her nude body draped absently with the white hotel sheet. She had been watching him for half an hour now, studying him through the dark, slowly probing his mind with careful strokes. He was too spellbound with thoughts of the Sacred Child to even notice the slight nudges she was giving his psyche. He had become completely enamored of this woman for some reason; his body had practically been on fire ever since the night he’d managed to tap into the other woman’s dreams. But if he had experienced the same sexual gratification and sensual excitement that she had while absorbing his thoughts, then she knew that was reason enough for him to crave this mystery woman. She hadn’t said anything to Cain about what she’d seen when he’d taken her that day. It wouldn’t have been prudent to show him that she was more intelligent than he gave her credit for. Of course, it also thankfully left him oblivious to the fact that her head had been filled with memories of Alrik, the one lover she’d never been able to forget or forgive. They had been so good together, so hot and right. He had been excellent in bed, giving her body pleasure time after time as his tongue and fingers teased her body into numerous orgasms. Then there had been his cock, so thick and long ... and always ready to make her scream in ecstasy. She had been so young when she’d been his, so sure that she could be good despite what she’d become. She hadn’t yet learned the delicious delight of being a dark Lamia; she’d only known that one moment she’d been the young bride of a very old count, and the next she’d been bitten and turned into something she’d had no idea existed. It had never been her choice to be changed; she had been forced into it, a leftover remnant of a frenzied feeding that Alrik hadn’t been able to kill or even allow to die. She remembered the wedding feast vividly, the wildness of it, the odor of barely bathed bodies as

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the guests had danced to the medieval music. Then chaos had erupted as the doors had been flung forcefully open and a group of lithe, ethereally quick phantoms had invaded the castle. She had been so innocent in the ways of what the church called evil. Even though she’d been wed once before, she’d been nineteen at the time of her second wedding, not so young during those years. But she had still been naive, and the carnage had been unspeakable in her eyes. She had been so horrified that she’d not thought to run as some had, leaving herself a ripe and ready target for the vampires. And, of course, one had descended on her as the last of the guests and wedding party had fallen to the ground, dead. She remembered the weight of the vampire’s body and the deep pounding of her heart, remembered the way the blood had hammered in her ears, slowing second by desperate second as the man on top of her had fed. She had experienced the rapture of it, the unwholesome eroticism of the creature’s actions and the way her body had flushed with unexpected sexual heat. She’d found herself so mesmerized and enthralled that she’d not even thought in those moments to be afraid of losing her life. It was when she had felt the last of her blood beginning to well from her body that something else, something strong and indescribably overwhelming, had rushed into the keep. Before she’d had a chance to realize what was happening to her, the thing that had been on top of her had been torn away and she’d been suddenly free. Her eyes had been blurry, her vision hazy as she’d stared above her, fighting for her breath, fighting for her life. The only thing that she’d been able to focus on had been the bright, piercing blue gaze that had studied her. He had checked her pulse, put his ear to her heart, then he had, with infinite gentleness, moved her hair from her eyes. She had known he was waiting for something from her, she just hadn’t known what. Then she had gasped, her blood bubbling in her throat as she’d sucked desperately for air. He hadn’t hesitated; he’d drug the barely conscious creature that had been consuming her back to where she was struggling. She had watched him as he’d jerked a knife from his boot and slit one long furrow up the man-beast’s arm. “Drink,” he’d said softly, nudging the lax appendage toward her mouth. She hadn’t even thought, she’d simply done as instinct had driven her to do and had fed from the rabid vampire. “I would not have had you changed this way, little one,” he’d sighed sadly as he’d helped her to drink. She hadn’t realized until later what he’d meant by that simple statement. She’d been told, when she had been stronger, that not everyone had been turned the way she had. Only the dark Lamiai initiated a human into the vampire world by draining them to the precipice of death, and then feeding them their blood, completely introducing the virus into the person’s body. She had felt guilty for countless years because she’d carried around the wanton memory of the way she’d nearly climaxed when she’d first been bitten at her wedding. She had been too ashamed and too far in love to admit that she craved the tidal wave of blood lust she’d initially experienced -- even to herself. She had wanted to be what

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her savior had expected her to be: a good, passionate, and pure Lamia who was dedicated to the Venefici Council and the preservation of the weaker races. She had stayed with Alrik for so many years that time had wrapped around itself, leaving her oblivious of the happenings of the world outside of their relationship. They’d fucked every night on waking, hunted wild beasts for blood, or on the nights when they socialized with others of their kind, fed from warm glasses of plasma. He had been everything to her ... until he’d refused to see how much he’d given up by swearing himself to the Venefici. Alrik Rath could have been a force to be reckoned with; he could have ruled the world of the night. He could have taken this Sacred Child’s blood and then they could have both been the ultimate power of the earth, controlling the destiny of both the dark and light dwellers. But instead he had argued with her time and again, telling her that he hadn’t been created by his father to destroy life, but to help protect it. She had fled from him in the night, bitterly disappointed and completely disillusioned by the man she’d thought was the strongest creature in the world. Finding a weakness in him had crushed her, but she had survived and had, indeed, thrived with her fellow dark Lamiai. Now she was stuck with Cain, having to use him with careful steps so that he was left without a clue as to her real intentions. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy using people; after all, she’d found that it was one of the best parts of being a beautiful woman with the power of a vampire. It just became ... tiresome at times. “Darling, come back to bed,” she purred, keeping the image of Alrik in her mind. “I will in a minute,” he said, his voice rough with the annoyance. “Oh, what is it, my love? Is it that nasty girl again? Or are you hungry?” she asked with syrupy sweetness. “We have to leave tomorrow,” he told her, his gaze still on the ocean. “She’s not here in the states; she’s out there.” “Out there? You mean we have to travel more?” she pouted, secretly hiding her happiness that he was so connected to the Sacred Child. He turned then, an indulgent smile on his lips as he looked at her. “I’m sorry, I know you’re tired of traveling, but we have to. I’ll call my contacts and arrange the flight, first class,” he assured her with a smug wink. “But first ...” He moved toward her with cat like grace, the moonlight from the sky illuminating his skin. When he reached the bed he rolled his sweat pants down, letting his rigid cock spring out. Iliana gave him a wickedly sexy smile as she rose to her knees and crawled across the mattress. He hissed in a long breath when she took his dick into her mouth. She knew he was fantasizing about the damn slut of the woman who was now fucking Alrik. Fury rose up her spine, hot and meltingly precise as it made her limbs quiver. She used it luring Cain into believing her shaking was caused by passion rather than anger.

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She sucked harder, diving down over and over again on his cock, stroking his loose balls with her fingers. Her breasts bobbed, the now hardened nipples rubbing against the rumpled texture of the sheets below her. The mixture of rage and lust was a powerful blend, shooting through her veins with a ferocious force that pooled between her damp thighs. She thought of Alrik, of how he’d fucked her with such skill and sheer enjoyment that she’d never had enough of him. Imagining his member in her mouth, she moved with languorous, full strokes, pulling the come from Cain’s balls into his shaft. She could feel the change, feel the way his taught skin tightened even more, and allowed the little quicksilver thrill of power to cascade through her veins. Then he was jerking against her lips, his breathing thick and heavy as he grunted and hissed in ecstasy. He filled her mouth, coating her tongue with his sticky release as he fisted her long hair around his knuckles. Sighing in contentment, she licked him clean then leaned back, her eyes bright with triumph. He chuckled as he wiped a small speck of his come from the corner of her mouth. Then, as if he were granting her a precious gift, he pushed her back against the bed and took her engorged slit in his mouth, humming in pleasure as he tasted her hot, spicy juices. His tongue ran quick, rapid-fire ticks over her hardened clit, eliciting loud groans and heavily hitched breaths. He thought of what it would be like to do this to the woman he kept dreaming of. He remembered the flash from Rath’s mind, could taste the sweet, muskiness of the female he wanted. It pushed him on, sent his tongue in a lapping motion as he palmed Iliana’s bottom and brought her closer to his mouth. He delved his long, moist muscle inside of her, drawing her wetness from her swollen walls as he nipped and laved. She writhed underneath him, her voice echoing through the luxurious hotel room as she grabbed at the sheets with clawing hands. He felt her rise, connected with her open mind as her orgasm burst from her body and rushed from her inflamed lips and into his mouth. He drank her essence, tasted the bitter sweetness of her and moaned at the satisfaction it gave him. Soon, he swore, drawing his sharp teeth over the soft flesh of her inner thigh, soon he would have the Sacred Child underneath him, and then he’d know the utterly erotic pleasure of her.

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Chapter Fifteen Eve sat in her grandfather’s masculine study, her legs tucked under her body as she relaxed on the dark leather couch. Gray stood, restless, peering out the tall windows across from her as the stars danced with the clouds in the sky. Julia sat in the thick padded reading chair to her right, her eyes seemingly glued to the cold stone fireplace. Her grandfather sat behind his heavy wood desk across from Eve, leaning back comfortably in his high backed chair as he ignored Gray who was standing just a few feet away. “Eve, I’m glad you’ve stayed at the estate for the summer,” Abram began. “It wouldn’t be the same here without you or your garden.” “I’m sure you could hire a gardener who would do just as well,” she commented. “And you’ll have to by September. I intend to have a life away from Griffin Keep.” Abram shifted in his seat as Julia’s gaze landed on Eve and Gray’s chin dropped to his chest. “I’ve been thinking of this moment for years,” he began softly. “I’ve practiced exactly what I want to say and how to say it. I’ve imagined this a hundred different ways. But now ... now with what you’ve just said ... I don’t want to hurt you, Eve. That’s the furthest thing from my mind.” She stared at him with worried eyes and a wrinkled brow. “Grandfather, are you all right?” “I wish I had a choice,” he said tiredly. “But I don’t. I just want you to listen with an open mind and try to understand what I’m going to tell you.” He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then continued. “Eve, there are -- things I need to talk to you about,” he said carefully, watching her with serious brown eyes. “Okay,” she drawled, pulling her feet from under her and letting them drape to the floor. “This sounds serious.” “It is,” Julia told her quietly as she stood then moved to stand beside the desk.

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“What is it? Are you ...?” Eve’s face suddenly lit with mischief as she watched Abram and the other woman. “Are you and Julia an item?” Julia’s eyes widened in shock, Abram coughed on a laugh and Gray spun, his eyes hot with a fury Eve had never seen in him before. Strange, she thought, hiding a knowing smile as her eyes skittered away from the broad-shouldered man. “Absolutely not,” her grandfather said, grinning. “No, no, Julia is simply a co-worker and a friend. She is a truly gifted woman, one that I trust completely, which is why I brought her here.” His tone became serious again as he studied her. “Eve, you know this keep has been in our family for generations.” “Yes.” “Well, what you haven’t known is that ... well, the estate has been used to conceal very ... special people, women to be exact.” Eve lifted her eyebrow in confusion, not quite sure where her grandfather was going with this odd conversation. He wasn’t known to prattle on about nonsense; in fact, though he smiled often and had a wicked sense of humor, he was actually a very pragmatic person, a fact that his college students often bemoaned. “These women,” he continued, “had to be protected from a very real evil. They were powerful women, important in the history of the world, even though they were never written about in conventional history books.” “Eve, these women kept the course of humanity and every other creature on earth on the right path,” Julia put in softly. “We owe them a depth of gratitude and loyalty that can’t be measured.” Eve’s forehead wrinkled in complete confusion. Just exactly what were they talking about? Were they trying to tell her that she’d been right all along? Had Gray somehow seen her distress and understood it, calling her grandfather to the estate out of concern so that he could tell her the truth? Had they come to explain to her that the voices she heard wasn’t her slowly losing her sanity because she was on the estate, but because the castle was truly haunted? Was it possible that Alrik Rath was exactly what she’d called him and precisely what he claimed to be? A ghostly lover who had inhabited the walls of Griffin Keep, waiting to find a woman who was willing to share carnal knowledge with him? A woman who could care -- she stopped her thoughts abruptly -- jerking her mind away from that dangerous path as quickly as possible. Abram laid a warm hand on Julia’s wrist, gaining her attention again. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from behind his desk. With a reassuring smile to his grandchild he continued. “Eve, you are a direct descendant of these women. Their blood runs through you.” “And that’s ... that’s a good thing, right?” she asked a bit apprehensively.

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“Well, yes --” Abram said, only to be cut off by a gruff Gray. “Tell her the truth, old man; tell her what it really means.” “Gray! Don’t speak to my grandfather that way!” “No, no, he’s right. I need to tell you the truth, all of it. I just ... I want you to promise to listen, to really listen, and to keep an open mind.” “What’s going on? Why are you acting so nervous? It can’t be that bad,” she insisted weakly, not sure if she wanted to know what they were about to tell her. She knew she sounded like a child in her uncertainty, but she just didn’t care. She imagined anyone else in her position, their heads beginning to swim with soundless static, would sound the same way. The three that had gathered in front of her glanced back and forth, the silence as uncomfortable as any she’d ever experienced. If she weren’t so suddenly anxious she’d have smiled at the ludicrous mood of the room. “Eve, your mother and my son, your father, were special people as well. Abigail was exceptional in everything she did, and Quin was the same. Our family, Evelina ... our family has always been different; we’re not exactly what others might term ‘normal.’ Not in a bad way, of course, but in an ... exceptional way.” “I’m getting confused,” Eve said slowly. “If you have something to say, just say it.” Abram took a deep breath, and stated the facts cleanly into the air. “The Griffins have been witches from the beginning of time; we marry witches more times than not, so our bloodline is potent.” Eve stared at him a moment, completely taken aback by what he’d just told her. If she’d had a million years to guess what her grandfather had been about to reveal to her, she would have never come upon this ridiculous idea. “Witches?” she rasped, blinking her eyes rapidly. “We’re ... witches? But witches are a myth, they’re ... they’re not real. Are you saying we’re Wiccan? Because I can --” “No, sweetheart, not Wiccan; what we are is part of that religion, yes, but we are the real thing. Our proper title is Veneficus, a spell-catcher and -caster -- a witch. We are the men and women born with the power that legends are made of,” her grandfather explained evenly. She stared, her eyes unmoving now as she tried to understand what her grandfather was saying. Veneficus ... that word sounded so familiar, as if she’d heard it whispered in her dreams. Then she remembered, with a sudden, stomach liquefying jolt, that she had heard it in her dreams, and she’d asked Gray about it the next day ... and he’d obviously lied. “Eve, I know this is hard to take in,” Julia said slowly. “But you are more than just a typical Veneficus; you are something so special that you have to be protected from the creatures that would hurt you.”

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“Creatures? Special?” she stammered, standing on shaky legs only to sink back down on the couch. “This is ... what does it mean? I don’t understand.” Gray moved with wolfish grace, his feet muffled on the thick beige carpet. He squatted down in front of her and took her hands in his, forcing her eyes down to his. She locked onto his gaze, took strength from it as they watched each other. “Eve,” he said gruffly, “there is a legend in our world, one about a girl born every thousand years. She is born into a family of strong blood, a family that is as pure Veneficus as nature will allow. She is called the Sacred Child before she ascends. The legend says that, on her twenty-sixth birthday, she will become something higher, something more powerful than even your grandfather can imagine. She will become what she’s born to be, the Sodalina, the most powerful being on earth. She will be balanced, she will be good, and she will keep both the world that the people outside live in and the world that we live in safe.” “Sodalina? What is a Sodalina?” she questioned, her mind whirling with all the implications of what they were trying to explain to her. A joke, she thought desperately, it had to be. “The Sodalis is a sacred order; it is considered the ‘priesthood’ for male witches,” her grandfather explained. “Your father was a part of that sect. He gave up his position after he met your mother because he knew, as she did, that their child would be the Sodalina, the woman who would know the power, would live the power, of the earth, stars, sun, and moon. Without her, the two worlds will become unbalanced; the dark will overlap into the light, new rules will be written and the old ones would be null and void.” “The world weighs on her decisions?” Eve asked in a dry voice. “Yes, but when she ascends, the Sodalina also inherits extreme powers,” Julia told her. “She will have the powers and the knowledge that her predecessors had, added to her own innate abilities.” She looked around the study, took in the serious faces and the deeply solemn gazes. She wanted to deny the truth that she saw in their expressions; she wanted to believe in her heart that what they were saying had no basis in reality. But already parts of the puzzle that had been her life were clicking into place, forming a picture that was far clearer than any she’d ever had. Though part of her already knew what the answer would be, she asked her question anyway. “And why are you telling me all of this?” Abram let out a deep, silent sigh before he spoke quietly. “Because you, Evelina, are the Sacred Child; you will be the Sodalina.” “And you have to keep this Sacred Child, this would be Sodalina, protected from what?” she questioned skeptically, her eyes focusing on Julia.

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“Just as there are Venefici, there are other creatures, other beings that roam the world. Some of them are evil, purely dark, and your ascension means that they will still be under the rule of the Sodalis sect. They will still be subject to strict constraints.” “So they’re trying to kill me,” she breathed, her skin suddenly going cold and clammy. The more questions they answered, the harder it was for her to reject what they were telling her. “But there’s something else, isn’t there? You haven’t told me everything. I want to know it all; I deserve to know.” Gray rubbed her icy fingers in his palms as he answered. “Yes, there’s more. There are other beings on this earth, beings that aren’t just scary fairy tales. There is the lycan race, better known as werewolves; there are dark wizards ... and vampires. In particular, there are vampires called Lamiai; they are vampires who, as humans, have the recessive gene of a Veneficus. However, they aren’t able to truly access their witch powers, not even as the undead.” There was a pause as that bit of information bled in with the rest. “Eve, you will become the Sodalina at the exact moment of your birth, the final stroke of midnight, the dawning of August first, the Wiccan holiday of Lammas. If a vampire drinks your blood at that time, they will take your power. They will become what is called the Ralarati, a Lamius whose Veneficus powers are brought out by taking the Sacred Child’s essence. By taking your blood, Eve. That is what we are protecting you from.” Eve pulled her hand away from Gray and stood; this time she was prepared for her watery knees and wobbly legs. She put a hand to her head, rubbing it absently as she fought for control. Somehow the story felt right; it should have seemed crazy, she should be calling the local psychiatric hospital to come and take the people around her away. But the words rang some full, truthful string in her soul. It explained so much, even as it left questions that still had to be answered. Oh, God, it wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. She’d been trapped her whole life, either in school or in Griffin Keep. And now ... now she was prisoner of what they were saying was her destiny, her birthright. She’d had less than a life already, and they were telling her that she wouldn’t ever have one. Fury bubbled into her veins, the implications of what they were telling her suffocating her with its large hands. She didn’t want this. She simply wasn’t going to allow anyone or anything else to rule her again, not when she’d been so close to freedom. “No,” she rasped, fighting back tears of anger and frustration. The trio stared at her in shock, not sure what she was telling them. Gray stood to his full height, his body creating a kind of human wall between her and the other two. “Eve, what are you saying?” he asked softly. “I’m not doing it. I won’t,” she said firmly. “I’m not going to be this ... this Sodalina. I’m leaving in September.” “Sweetheart, you don’t understand,” Abram spoke gently. “You don’t have a choice. You will ascend on your birthday, whether you want to or not.”

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“No, I won’t do it! I won’t!” she exploded, unapologetic for her immature behavior. Pushing past Gray, she turned sad, angry eyes to her grandfather and Julia. “I don’t want this! Damn it, I just don’t want this!” “I know you’re upset --” Julia began. “Upset? Upset?!” Eve interrupted. “I’m not upset, I’m furious! You just sat here and told me, quite casually, that I’m going to be responsible for the world and everyone and everything in it in a few weeks. In less than five minutes you’ve changed my life forever! Forever! And what’s worse, you expect me to just accept it, to just fall in line with your plans!” “Eve, stop,” Gray said firmly. “You have to understand that this is going to happen. It’s in your blood.” “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this whole time? You bastard!” she lashed out, smacking him with a resounding whack across his face. “You knew I wanted a home, a family, love ... a life! And the entire time I went on and on about it, the entire time I poured my heart out to you, you didn’t say a damn thing!” “He couldn’t, he was bound by his word to me,” Abram put in. “I made him promise not to tell you anything.” “You told him to lie,” she asked, flabbergasted. “I can’t believe you did that! Didn’t you think I deserved to know?” “We were afraid for your safety,” Abram defended himself. “If you had known you would have been open to an attack. We had to tell you now because you have to have time to come to terms with who you are, and what you’re capable of.” “Oh, I know what I’m capable of right now! I could strangle you all!” she raged, throwing her arms in the air. “Time to come to terms with who I am? How in the hell am I supposed to do that when all this time I thought I was ‘normal’?” “You’ve known in your heart that you aren’t normal,” Gray said softly, his quiet tone catching her attention more than a shout would have. “Why do you think the flowers bloom for you? Why do you think your delicate jasmine grows in the ground here in Ireland nearly year round and doesn’t have to be kept in a hothouse? Why do you think you’ve been able to read people so well your whole life? Why do you think you get these hunches that end up being true? There are a hundred different things about you that has always set you apart, even if you’ve never wanted to admit it.” She stared at him, unable to answer his questions. Damn it, he was right. He was absolutely right. As infuriated as she was, as confused and hurt as she felt, a small part of her had known that there was something different about her. And what she’d just been told made a kind of insane sense. “I have to go,” she whispered hoarsely. “I need some air.”

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She hurried from the room, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she rushed out the door and toward her garden. Both Abram and Gray turned to follow, but Julia stopped them with one gracefully raised hand. “No, I’ll go,” she said, pushing away from the desk. “I think she needs another woman to talk to.” Julia found her sitting on a marble bench in the deepening dark, her fingers toying with a sprig of heather that she cradled against the cotton of her dress. She paused for a moment, giving the other woman a chance to feel her presence. “Eve, I know this is a lot to take in,” Julia said softly, moving slowly to sit beside her. “We’ve hit you between the eyes with all of this.” “Yes, it’s a lot, more than I think I can handle right now ... maybe ever.” “Part of you already knew this was going to happen.” There was a tense silence as Julia waited for an angry response from Eve. Instead, the other woman let out a shuddering sigh and shook her head. “Strange, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have known anything. I should still be shrieking and yelling and having a fit out here. Instead, I’m sitting in the garden, letting the rest of my mind cope with what is happening,” Eve said quietly. “You will cope, and we’ll all be here to help.” Julia’s clear green gaze carefully assessed her before she continued. “There is so much you have to learn about your heritage. As distraught and confused as you are right now, the part of you that you’ve ignored, the part that knew there was something special about you, is completely aware now. There’s no way to tuck that part back inside its corner now that it’s been completely awakened. You’ll need to be able to control your powers. You’ll need to know how to protect yourself.” “Protect myself ... does that mean that these dark Lamiai will still try to kill me after I’ve ‘ascended’?” Eve asked, her voice tinged with the rusty feel of desperation and resignation. “Once you’ve become the Sodalina you can’t be killed. You won’t be subject to the same weaknesses as the rest of us. You won’t die until it’s time, and your soul will move on from natural causes. But they can still take you and hold you prisoner. They can still torture you if they can capture you. You’ll have to know how to sense them and how to manipulate your powers to keep yourself safe. Once you’ve ascended, you’ll be too powerful for us to keep you hidden anymore.” “Us to keep you hidden? Does everyone know? I mean, it’s obvious you, grandfather, and Gray know, but what about the staff? Are they in danger?” she asked, her face flushing with unspent fury. “The staff knows, Eve; they’re witches, too. They know the danger as well as the rest of us do,” Julia replied.

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“Julia, as a Veneficus ... er, as the Sacred Child,” she emphasized the last two words, “do I have the ability to ... see ghosts?” “Oh, yes, certainly.” “And hear them? Interact with them?” The redhead gave Eve a curious look, but saw no reason keep the truth from her. “Yes, you can. You have that power. Why, have you been experiencing things?” “I have,” Eve admitted, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. “And now I know I’m not going crazy. I know that there’s an explanation; it might not be what I’d expected, but at least I realize I’m not losing my mind.” Julia gave the brunette a small, comforting smile as Eve dropped the flowers onto the cool stone beside her. “I’m glad I could help you in some way,” she said slowly, a sneaking suspicion that there was more to this conversation than she understood niggling at the back of her brain. “I’m going up to bed,” the other woman stated suddenly drawing herself up from the bench. “Please tell Gray and grandfather I said goodnight. I’d like to talk more about ... all of this in the morning. I’m sure I’ll have more questions once I’ve sorted more of the situation out.” “And we can start your training tomorrow if you’d like,” Julia put in, wanting to give her some piece of positive among the confusion. “Training?” “Yes, training,” Julia replied with another smile. “That’s the real reason Abram brought me to Griffin Keep. I’m here to help you tap into your powers before your birthday.” Eve nodded curtly then turned to make her way into the keep. Julia let out a deep breath as she watched the younger woman go. There was so much to do, and so very little time to do it in. She only hoped they would be able to help Eve gain control over her innate powers before her ascension ... and that they could keep her safe before she became the

Sodalina.

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Chapter Sixteen Eve made her way to her room with deliberately slow steps, her sandaled feet echoing on the stone stairs. If she’d let herself go, she would be storming toward her turret room, ranting and raving like a mad woman until she’d woken the whole castle. Then she would take the entire staff to task about their deception, and she simply didn’t have the energy for it. Sighing with resignation and frustration, she quietly shut her door and fell back against the thick wood. As strange as the things were that she’d been told, as hard as it was to accept, Gray had been right; she’d always felt just a step apart from the people around her, as if she didn’t truly fit into the outside world. A part of her now felt free and connected, the half that had been silently waiting, suffocating in the darkness of ignorance. She no longer felt as if she were battling some unseen force that seemed determined to strangle her life. She’d found the missing piece that she hadn’t even known had been lost. But there was more than that. Fears about her mental stability had been put to rest now. And she knew, beyond a doubt, that Alrik Rath wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. Of all the things that she’d found out tonight, there was one question that was weighing the heaviest on her mind. “Alrik, if you’re here, please show yourself. I know I’m not crazy and I know you’re not just something I created in my mind.” She waited a moment, her eyes adjusting to the dark room as her breathing sounded, harsh and heavy, in her ears. “Please, Alrik, please, if you’re here ... please show me.” He appeared from the wall across the way, his body melting from the shadows and taking the form she wanted ... needed. Seeing him brought the tears of exhaustion and strain into her eyes, the kind that balanced on her lashes and refused to spill down. As angry as she

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was, as disoriented as she felt, just the sight of him seemed to make everything else outside of this moment inconsequential. “Alrik ... Alrik,” she breathed, pushing herself up for a brief moment. He reached for her, enveloping her in his arms as she collapsed against him. Had he heard the heated argument downstairs? Did he have any idea just how furious she was? Damn it, it had taken her grandfather, his protégé, and her friend less than twenty minutes to tear her world down to pieces. “I want this to be a dream ... all of it. Tell me it’s a nightmare, that I’m not what they say I am,” she said softly. “I just want to wake up and be who I was this morning.” “And would you erase me, too?” he asked quietly. “Never,” she admitted adamantly. “You are the one good thing from all of this damn idiotic birthright shit.” “But you are who you are, Evelina ... Veneficus.” She let his words pour over her like warm water as she cringed at the title. And then something struck her, something dark and a bit ominous. His voice, that word, it was all familiar ... too familiar. Hadn’t she already figured out that Gray had kept the meaning of that name from her? And now ... now this. Her heart began to stutter in rage as adrenaline shoved its way into her bloodstream. She pulled back and stared at him, at his black hair, his piercing blue eyes, his ruggedly proportionate face. Anger boiled up under the surface of her skin again, the betrayal of it more biting than the pain her grandfather and friend had caused. “You knew, too,” she said, her voice cracking as the realization smacked her across the face. “Damn it! Every fucking person knew and apparently so did every damn entity! Is there anything that I’ve been able to do in my entire life that hasn’t been analyzed?” “Eve, it isn’t like that,” he told her quietly. “Then what is it like?” she bit back, pushing her way out of his arms. “Tell me, Alrik, because I have to tell you, this whole thing is insane. I’m supposed to be some sort of legend, the head of some sect I’ve never even heard of. I’m going to morph into some all knowing, all powerful being on my birthday, meanwhile vampires are chasing me down to drink my blood. And ... and I’ve been screwing a damn ghost! What is it with honesty and me? Has my whole life been one big fucking lie? Have we been a lie? Have you been a lie?” “No, Eve, we aren’t a lie, we never have been. But I am, and I’m sorry for it,” he said in a deeply soft voice. “You’re a lie? Oh, great, just fucking great!” she yelled, tossing her hands in the air as her heart broke. “What about you is a lie? You’re really alive? You’re a witch? You’ve been screwing my brains out but you don’t like women? What, Rath? What?” He didn’t say a word. He stared at her for a moment, his gaze intense. As she watched, his face changed, becoming harsher, and his skin went taut over his now protruding

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cheekbones. His eyes dilated, the black pupils widening to cover the bright blue of the iris. Then she saw his teeth -- his suddenly sharp teeth -- as he growled. She held her breath, her lungs on fire from lack of oxygen. Her body became cold, her blood freezing so quickly that she began to sweat with it. She didn’t want to believe it; it just couldn’t be, not Alrik, not her lover. “Oh, oh my God. You ... you’re a ... a ... a vampire?” she gasped. “A Lamius, to be exact,” he whispered. “What the fuck does it matter! You are what you are, isn’t that what you just told me? It doesn’t matter if you stick a title to it or not!” “No, Eve, there is a difference. I would never hurt you, ever. I’m bound to protect you and all Venefici; I pledged with my blood to never use what I’ve become in an evil way.” “Oh, but I guess lying isn’t considered evil in your world,” she hissed. “I didn’t lie, I just ... didn’t tell you.” “Fuck the semantics! You didn’t tell me, and you should have!” “I was trying to protect you!” he ranted back, losing his vampiric face. “You were deceiving me!” “I was loving you!” The statement hung in the air like a thick blanket, the words shocking them both as their gazes locked and held. A moment later he turned away from her. “I can’t stay, Evelina, I can’t put you in danger.” Before she could form a coherent thought he was gone, disappeared the way he’d come. “Oh, no, no way in hell,” she rasped. Spinning, she rushed down the stairs, her mind tuned into Alrik with the power she’d never known was inside of her. She could feel him as he faded through the walls, brushing past Gray in a deliberate move that let the other man know he was leaving the castle. She hurried down the back steps, moving quicker than she’d imagined she could. The moment her feet hit the darkened ground outside storm clouds erupted in the sky, streaks of lightning illuminating the heavy grayness of the night. Rain began to fall in torrents, soaking through her peach sundress as it whipped in zigzagging patterns with the wind. She paid no attention to the wild weather; she kept herself focused on Alrik’s presence. “Alrik Rath! You son of a bitch, you’d better stop!” she screamed, her voice carrying on the storm. “I will not let you walk away!” He heard her, of course; there was no way to miss the sound of her fury or avoid the storm her raging emotions had created. She wouldn’t realize that she’d conjured the tempest, but he was well aware of it. It only showed the depth of her fury and her despair over realizing that her world had been a lie. She had found out she’d been lied to, and she’d been

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told that she had to give up all her hopes for her future. And he knew her dreams; he’d seen them in her thoughts while she’d slept, felt them in the depths of her soul when he took her. She’d changed him with those feelings, and now he was part of ripping them away. He hated himself in this one moment more than he ever imagined was possible. Alrik continued to walk toward the woods, his heart heavy with regret; a white-hot bolt shot from the sky, connecting with a sizzle to the tree just a few feet in front of him, blinding him momentarily. He jumped back, cursing when a deafening clap of thunder pounded against the clouds and into his chest. The searing heat from the strike poured over his face as his blue eyes danced with the lingering dazzles the lightening had caused. The stray bolt shouldn’t stop him. He should turn and go, he should disappear beyond the clattering glass bottles and into the surrounding woods and let her be. But she was racing toward him, her sandaled feet sinking into the wet ground, and he could feel her, feel her sadness and her need. Walking away now would be more than cruel -- it would be vicious. “Eve, go back inside,” he said sternly, keeping his expression and his emotions under rigid control. “You’ll get hurt in this storm.” She came to quick stop in front of him, her amber eyes glowing red with vehemence. Her hair was drenched, plastered back from her oval face, her skin glowing with inner strength and power as she glared at him. “You don’t get to walk away!” she roared over the wicked weather. “You don’t get to leave me like that! You son of a bitch, you don’t get to say something like ‘I love you’ and then run away! You have a lot to answer for!” “Eve, I can’t stay!” he yelled adamantly. “The people after you, the vampires that want to take your life are connected to me!” “And do you even care? About me, Rath, about me! Or is it all about this Sodalina crap? Is that all anyone here cares about?” “Eve, don’t --” “Don’t? Don’t what? Don’t ask questions? Don’t let myself wonder and worry?” She asked her questions in rapid-fire succession, her rage whipping the wind around them harder and faster. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of that damn word! Don’t, Eve. Don’t go to a co-ed school! Don’t go on vacation! Don’t leave the estate! Don’t date anyone your grandfather hasn’t met! Don’t fall in love! Don’t have a damn life!” “I know you’re angry --” “Damn right I’m angry! I’m so pissed that I can’t think straight! How could you do this to me? How could you let me go on thinking you were a ghost, that you weren’t real? How?” “Eve, I want you to be safe, I want you to become what you are supposed to be,” he told her, fighting back the overwhelming urge to pull her soft body against him and comfort her.

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“Shut the hell up! Just -- just shut up!” she screamed as the air howled with electricity and heavy rain. “I’m so sick of everyone trying to take care of me! I was lied to supposedly for my own good! I was trapped in boarding schools, an exclusive college, and this estate because they were taking care of me! I’m fucking sick of it! Sick of it! I wish these dark Lamiai would just kill me! I wish they would just show up and drain me!” “No, don’t say that!” he hollered desperately as he grabbed her upper arms and gave her a little shake. “Don’t ever say that! The world needs you!” “And that’s it, isn’t it? The world needs me, but you don’t! Why else would you drop a bombshell by saying you love me, then walk out the door? Were the words so easy to say? Don’t they mean the same thing to you as they do to us mere mortals?” “Damn it, Eve, stop it! I love you! I love you! I shouldn’t, it’s against every law ever written, it’s against our very natures! But I do! God and every angel ever created help me,” he roared. “If you died, if you left this world, I’d be a shadow of a vampire! Don’t you know, didn’t you hear me? You are my soul! I didn’t think I had one, I thought I’d left it behind centuries ago! But you went and found it ... or maybe you had it all along, and I’d simply been waiting for you.” “Why? Why the act? Why show yourself to me at all?” she prodded, her voice easing as she questioned him. “I shouldn’t have,” he admitted, his grasp loosening. He began rubbing his hands over her arms slowly, staring at her through the rain and the few inches that separated them. “Gray almost killed me over it; he probably would if I got out of hand ... if I tried to taste your blood.” “Gray,” she breathed, shaking her head. “He knows. He knows about you, doesn’t he? Of course he does. They all do.” “Yes, they do. They love you, and they want you to be safe, which is why your grandfather asked me to guard you at night,” he acknowledged. “Guard me?” she squeaked, her words rising again. “He hires a vampire that could kill me, but he doesn’t tell me? What the hell kind of logic is that!” Alrik pulled her to him, smashing her rounded breasts against the sopping black material that covered his chest. The rain had plastered their clothing over their bodies so completely that they might as well have been wearing nothing at all. The heat from their limbs escaped through the soaked cotton, warming their chilled skin far beneath the surface. His eyes landed on her sensually bare lips, his mouth watering with the remembered taste of her. His logical side was suddenly squelched, shoved underneath the need that had his cock hardening against her stomach. Without thought, his lips crashed down on hers, swallowing her as his tongue swept in with viciously passionate strokes.

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Eve thought of fighting him, thought of pushing away, but her anger was demanding an outlet, and he was presenting the perfect way to vent all the fury that screamed for release. Instead of pulling her mouth from his, she fell into the kiss, wrapping her tongue in his, nipping his lips as they met, parted, met again. The jars hung for protection banged and jangled in the whipping wind, the storm above raging as lightning streaked and thunder rumbled. The sounds and feel of the rain and the waving trees only added to the sexual frenzy that was running its hot, sure hands over them. His fingers worked their way up over her back, then slowly, agonizingly, his palm moved around to the front to cup her breast. She moaned as he worked the pliant globe, squeezing with strong, sure pressure. Her nipple hardened, its peak begging for his bare touch. His hands were making her crazy. He was stroking her, snapping her nerve endings to painful attention as he worked his magic. She might climax without any further prodding, she thought frantically. Then Alrik’s touch moved lower, caressing her already inflamed crotch through her wet dress with gentle pressure. “You want me to fuck you hard and slow,” he said softly as he pulled a whisper away and gazed into her face. “It’s what you want, tell me it is.” “Y-ye-yes,” she managed. “You don’t need the gentleness to sooth you. You need the wildness, the fury of a hard coupling,” he told her rather than asked. “Please, please, yes,” she agreed breathlessly. “You’ll scream for me -- with me,” he swore through a raw throat. “That ... that’s what I, oh, that’s, uh, what I want,” she stammered between groans as he continued to manipulate her with his hard palm and ready fingers. He lowered her to the ground, bringing them both to their knees in the fragrantly wet grass. His hands moved down her quivering thighs and he hooked his fingers around the hem of her dress. As he lifted the sodden cotton off her body, she realized vaguely that he must have unzipped it when his hands were at her back. Then his body was shifting to cover her, his mouth slamming on top of hers with unbridled passion. She gave back to him, entwining her tongue with his, pulling at his lips as they shared their incendiary kiss. He was pushing her control away, taking her rational thoughts and shredding them with each thrust of his tongue. He was good, he always had been, but tonight was different. Tonight it was truly real, with no barriers or secrets between them. It only made the ecstasy he gave her that much more potent. Alrik didn’t hesitate; he repositioned her underneath him, pulling at her satin panties in a frantic attempt to rip them away. Eve wriggled, her legs moving to assist him in undressing her. He moaned deep in his throat when the thin material was finally loose and

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free from her fevered body; he pulled away only long enough to throw them over his shoulder and to the ground. His mouth found hers again, plundering it with ease born of sexual desire. Eve’s back bowed, her bare skin scraping erotically against the wet T-shirt Alrik still wore. She wanted to feel him skin to skin with an almost painful need. Groaning in frustration, she yanked on the drenched material, jerking it toward his head. Soon, it was a new part of the small pile of clothes they were making on the rain soaked ground. With a soft moan, Eve pressed herself against his slick chest; their silken flesh now magnificently bare of any restrictive clothing. She shifted as Alrik reached between them, found one pebble-hard nipple and began plucking it with deft fingers. Eve gasped her approval, draping her arms securely around his head as he deepened their kiss. Slowly, she felt his mouth move away as he nipped his way down, scraping his teeth along her jaw then laving where he’d marked her with his tongue. She writhed underneath him, lifting her bare legs around his waist and willing him to continue. His mouth wandered a passionately furious path down her throat and to her chest, placing kisses along the delicate flesh of her breasts. She shivered in anticipation as his hot breath skittered across her creamy skin, her stomach clenching in delight. His hands settled on her soft, rounded hips, kneading the supple flesh as he sucked her nipple, suctioning it with erotic pressure. Her mews and hisses ricocheted through the storm as she lost herself to his loving. He gave one last pull on her nipple, growling when she gasped and pushed herself against him, pressing her moist heat against his stomach. With deliberate movements, he continued his journey down her body with his mouth. He planted warm kisses along her stomach pausing when he reached her swollen lips. She was panting, clawing at his bare shoulders, waiting for him to continue. With a sexual snarl, he dropped his mouth to her and began licking her wet slit, lapping at her juices as he flicked over her hard clit over and over again. Eve groaned deeply, burying her hands in his dark hair as he drove her closer to the brink with his teeth and tongue. She could feel her body coil, her stomach twisting as she was pushed higher and higher. As she teetered on the edge of an orgasm he pulled away and sank two fingers inside of her, working her with erotic circles of his fingertips. Eve was mad with lust, her body thrumming on the verge of the orgasm she’d been denied. She wanted him, needed him, and she wasn’t going to rest until she had him deep inside of her. Wrapping her hands around his waist, she flipped him smoothly to his back, ignoring his shocked face. She leaned down and nipped his bottom lip, then licked it, stopping any protest he might have. With deliberate slowness, she began to give him exactly what he’d given her. She ran her hands down his bare torso, following them with her mouth, planting hot, wet kisses down his chest and belly. She felt him stiffen as she worked her way to his

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bellybutton; she grasped the waistband of his pants with her hands and quickly jerked them down, pleased that he must have kicked his shoes off at some point. When his cock sprung loose, she moaned in pleasure and licked her lips, anticipating what his member would feel like ... and taste like. Eve leaned down, her wet hair plastered against her back as the storm continued to blow and bluster around them. Then she was sliding his cock into her mouth, the hot, stiff velvet muscle gliding between her saliva-soaked lips. He moved with her, pushing into her mouth in the easy rhythm she set. She pulled him in slowly, reveling in the power she felt coursing through her body as she pushed him to the brink. She sucked and drew him inside before gradually easing away, working him with her hands and mouth, chuckling deep in her throat when he hissed in pleasure. She cupped him and felt him tighten, realizing with a satisfied smile that his release was angled just under his skin. With a cunning grin, she pulled away, sitting up between his legs. She laughed with a deep, utterly sensual tone as he gave a moaning sob and stared, dazed, at her. “Payback is a bitch, isn’t it, Alrik?” she teased. He growled and tweaked her nipples, then she threw her head back and groaned. Giving him a wicked smile, she crawled back over his body, slowly, agonizingly, teasing them both to near insanity. When Eve found his mouth again, he attacked her, ravaging her so completely that she lost what little breath she had left. Alrik couldn’t take it any longer; she was making him crazy, and he wasn’t sure how much his painfully rigid cock could handle. He could feel his hard shaft pushing into the heat of her body. He wanted to plunge inside her, feel her quake and squeeze as he fit into her again and again. His desperation mingled with the singing of her blood, the sound of the rushing liquid in her veins an aphrodisiac that could never be condensed in pill form. Deciding to take back the control, he rolled her under him again, keeping their mouths fused together as he positioned himself over her. He moaned as Eve flowed with him, ignoring the rain that poured over their naked bodies and the wind that scoured their skin. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips, impatient for him to fill her, pushing any doubts he might have had into total oblivion. He held himself back for a moment, commanded her with their mental connection to open her eyes. When she did, he locked their gazes and slid his hands into hers. “I do love you, a thaisce; this is real. And I will love you no matter what might happen.” Even when you change, even when I have to leave, he thought in the corner of his mind. “I love you, Alrik, always,” she swore. He thrust into her, his cock sliding into her body with ease. She moved with him, matching him as he plunged in and out, her juices coating him as he rode her harder and faster.

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He knew she was close, had been since before she’d sucked on him so skillfully. He felt her body swell, saw the flush rise higher on her skin, smelled the way her aroma deepened. His mouth went to one of her taut nipples and sucked it in with a strong pull. Gently, he rolled it between his teeth, driving into her as he heard her cries grow louder. “Rath, oh Rath ... Rath!” She chanted his name like a prayer, her voice echoing through the trees behind them as the rain concealed them from the outside world. Her honeyed walls crushed him as they shook and contracted, throbbing with scorching heat and slick fluids. She carried him with her toward the ultimate end, her high pitched wails more erotic than any coherent words she could have spoken. Then suddenly he was there, the sharp edge of release blissfully painful as he slid over, his rough cries joining hers in the stormy night. He filled her as he came in long, hard shots, the liquid escaping his cock to coat her like a thick blanket. They floated down together, holding each other as the vicious weather Eve’s emotions had created ebbed and eased. In this one moment, in the quiet bliss of their afterglow, Rath could almost believe they had a future.

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Chapter Seventeen Eve stared at the small flame of blue light that hovered just above her palm, her concentration focused on holding the fire. There was no heat from it, not for her, but she knew from the last week and a half that the light she had created would singe anything, and anyone, it came in contact with. “That’s it, Eve, perfect,” Julia praised as she watched her. She had grown by leaps and bounds over the past days. Eve was born with a deep gift that had needed only the slightest nudge to come to fruition. “Now, let it go,” the red head instructed. Eve spread her fingers wide as the blue fire sank into her palm, licked up her fingers, then spiraled up into the sky. The clouds absorbed it, scattering the light over their surface in radiant cerulean. Gray came around the corner, Abram wandering along behind him, and stopped when he saw Eve let go of her fire. “Wow, maybe next year we can save ourselves the headache and let you do the fireworks,” he said cheekily. She gave him a sardonic glare, then flicked her hand, sending an invisible arm across his legs. He fell to the ground on his tight ass, his eyes bright with shock as he went. “Oh, ho!” her grandfather chuckled as the other man fell. “You have to watch her now.” “Yeah, looks like,” the younger man grumbled, struggling back to his feet. “I feel sorry for Rath when he pisses her off.” Eve stopped, her breath held, as she waited for her grandfather to say something about Alrik and their relationship. Of course, he didn’t know all the gory details; after all, he was

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still her grandfather. But after the interlude on the back lawn, her lover hadn’t bothered to hide himself away when the sun went down. In fact, Alrik would appear in her grandfather’s study or the library or even the kitchen. She remembered the first time it had happened and how unnerved she had been. But Abram had simply smiled that warm smile of his, and Gray had snarled in a friendly way, if that was possible. The only person who had seemed shocked was Julia, but even she hadn’t appeared too scandalized. Thereafter Alrik had not only joined the small group, he had interacted ... and he had openly and freely been affectionate towards her. Not that he groped her in front of them, or blatantly spoke about their sex life. He had definitely never kissed her or ogled her in her grandfather’s presence. But he was the first to answer her questions, the first to bring her whatever she needed, to open doors for her, to make sure she was taken care of. It was obvious to anyone watching that there was a deep spark. And yet her grandfather never mentioned it. “Well, Gray, I think that Rath has better sense than to anger Evelina,” Abram commented casually. “Now, sweetheart, I know part of you still wants to take my skin off,” he continued, moving neatly around Gray, “but we need to talk about the ceremony on your birthday. The staff will attend, of course, as they can help the Venefici Council create the circle --” “Whoa, hold on, the staff ... the circle ... I don’t know what all of this is supposed to be about,” Eve interrupted. “And that’s what I’m trying to explain,” he told her carefully. “Eve,” Julia put in, “the circle is exactly like the one we practiced yesterday. It will be cast inside the castle with the holy earth from the local church and blessed wooden brooms, in the ballroom where there is plenty of room. The other Venefici will help you by binding the circle with their powers.” “Thank you,” Eve sighed, still anxious about the fact that, like it or not, nature was forcing her into a role that terrified her. A part of her was still very angry about her lack of control over the situation, but that part became smaller with each passing day. It was as if her dark emotions were now channeled into her witch’s powers, and every time she used them a bit of fury was used and dissipated. And of course, it helped that Alrik came to her every night and made love to her until there were no more thoughts left in her mind. “When you ascend, you will be in the center of the circle,” Abram continued, as if he’d never been interrupted. “Of course, before that you’ll be in your room; you’ll be escorted down just before midnight.” “But that doesn’t make sense. Why would you lock me in my room when it’s obvious I’ll be safer with you two and the staff?” “Actually, Julia’s fiancé will be here, too,” her grandfather noted distractedly. “Gideon is very strong; he will be our anchor.”

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“Fiancé?” Gray asked in a thick voice. “He’s not my fiancé, Abram,” Julia quickly put in. “Boyfriend, significant other, whatever you want to call him,” the older man added with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The point is, Eve, we will be caught up in casting the spell and laying the groundwork for the protective circle. We won’t be focused completely on you, and you need to be safe. Besides, it’s part of the ceremony for you to be in your tower room, contemplating how you will be the Sodalina.” “Oh, yes, of course,” Eve muttered. “And I suppose there is a flowing gown of pure white that I’ll be wearing?” “Well, as a matter of fact ...” he replied. She laughed, thinking he was kidding, until she saw the solemn faces of the people around her. Damn it, now she really did feel like she was part of a gothic novel. She didn’t want it all explained in deep, lurid detail, leaving her to dread what was going to happen. She would rather have it done with ... or just hope it was all a nightmare. “It’s time for lunch, and I’m starving.” Gray rammed his hands into his jean pockets, ignoring the glare that Julia sent his way. “Come on, Eve, I’ll make you a Dagwood.” With a grateful smile, she leaned over and gave her grandfather’s cheek a gentle kiss before moving away. Abram and Julia watched the pair leave, their gazes holding two very different expressions.

***** Eve laid down in the bath, her body floating in the fragrant warmth of the water. Her days were so filled with practicing spells and being taught the history of the worlds she was about to inherit, that she barely had time to think, and she was always exhausted in the evenings when she finally dragged herself up to her room. But the nights ... umm ... the nights were all about Alrik. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to manipulate her entire body so that she was one throbbing nerve ending. And when she came for him it was with an intensity that sent her head spinning. She had never known how incredible sex could be, but she was damn glad he’d shown her. Her heart raced with the thoughts of their bodies entwined on the bed, doing things to each other that had to be illegal in certain countries. Her mind reached out for him, and she gave a little shiver when she felt him, just finishing his feeding from the blood supplied by the witches in the village. She should have found it repulsive, but somehow it didn’t bother her. It was simply part of who Alrik was, and she definitely liked who he was. Like, though, wasn’t a strong enough word. She had been hesitant to touch the word that did fit, afraid to say it and make it a reality. But it had been in her heart, though, and embedded in her soul like hot golden coals. Part of her had longed to tell him how she really felt, that she’d come to anticipate being with him. That it wasn’t just his body that she’d

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learn to need, but his comfort as well. When they’d finally confessed to each other, she had felt as if she’d added that one piece to her soul that had been missing since birth. If they were ordinary people, they would probably be planning their future together as they snuggled in bed in the afterglow of heady lovemaking. But they weren’t ordinary. When she changed, she was afraid she wouldn’t have the time or the energy to deal with a relationship. She definitely wouldn’t want to force anyone to be bound to her, not when she would be so dangerous. She’d be wrapped up in the affairs of the world; she couldn’t make promises because she wasn’t sure if she could live up to her words. Oh, but she wanted to. She wanted it all with Alrik. She wanted to have the happily ever after, the fights over the bathroom counter space, the boisterous children scrambling around their feet. But she had to be realistic; logically, she knew she would never have that. And so, while she could still be with her lover, she would cherish every precious moment and store the memories for the lonely nights. Sighing, she sloshed out of the tub and wrapped herself in a white bath sheet. Her thoughts were filled with Alrik, with the memory of the gentle way he’d been treating her, of the gifts he still brought her, of the stories he’d begun to share of his family and his mentor. He’d even begun to use a specific endearment for her -- a thaisce. She also thought of how easily he brought her to wild, passionate abandon with his touch and his practiced skill. She became instantly aroused, the excitement flowing through her limbs pooling between her legs. He knew exactly what to do, where to taste, where to rub, and she’d reveled in it for weeks now. But she enjoyed being the one in power, too, and the idea of dominating her strong male lover, even in a small way, made her breasts swell and her nipples harden. When he came to her, she would have a surprise for him. And he’d learn what it was like to be a roadmap of learning for her hands and mouth.

***** Alrik melted through the walls, his senses alert to Eve. Her scent rose and surrounded him, sending his cock to full and painful alert. He’d dreamed of her again, of what he’d done to her, and what he fantasized of doing to her. He was happy she wasn’t angry with him about insinuating himself into her waking life. He’d simply not been able to hold back the way he felt for her, not when the emotions inside of him were so intense. Nothing, not even common sense, would have stopped him from being around her these past days; he would have done the same thing even if he’d actually made the conscious decision to be with her in the waking world. As it was, he knew his subconscious had pushed him into putting his mark on her, making his claim in front of her guardian and friends. He understood that, once she became the Sodalina, she’d never be able to stay tied to him. A Lamius, even one that was in the service of the Venefici, would never be a suitable match for the most powerful magical being on Earth. In fact, there was

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usually a long, tedious process to gather candidates for her mate, to cull the group, to try the men that were left, then the candidates had to pass any and all challenges put forth by the Sodalina. Only then did she take a life mate. And never, in the entire history of the world, had a Lamius even been on the long list of suitable men. “Alrik, I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice floated through the dark room, cascading over his skin like hot silk. His blood sped like heated mercury through his veins as he moved toward the bed, his eyes adjusting in the moonlight that poured through the stained glass window. He found her sitting on the bed, her naked body splendid as she reclined on her hands, her luscious legs curled underneath her. “Eve, you are so lovely, a thaisce. I’ve thought of nothing else but you.” “Ummm ... it’s nice to know that you’re obsessed with me,” she teased, moving to lean toward him. “A thaisce, you keep calling me that. It’s a beautiful phrase, but I have no idea what it means.” “It’s old Gaelic; it means ‘my treasure,’” he explained in an intense voice. “Your treasure? You think of me as a treasure?” “I do, and you are,” he told her gently. He bent down to lay a tender kiss on her lips, but as he delved back for more she turned her head away. He studied her with intense eyes as he tried to gauge what her reaction meant, but all he saw was an ultra feminine look that spoke of sexuality more eloquently than words. His dark pants became more constraining as his shaft expanded. “Why don’t you come here, Alrik? Come sit on the bed with me.” Curious, he lifted one eyebrow but did as she asked. The moment he was seated, her hands were carefully, but insistently, taking his clothes off his body. He bit back a moan as her fingertips brushed over his chest, popping his buttons open with deft movements. “What is this?” he asked in a lust-laden voice. “It’s me having my way with you,” she told him, continuing her gentle assault. “I realized I’d never had the pleasure.” “Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to deprive you,” he chuckled, then sucked his breath in as she flicked a fingernail over his nipple. “Um, no, you definitely don’t want to deprive me,” she teased him. He didn’t answer, couldn’t as she worked her way with antagonizing leisure to his pants. One quick push followed by a devastatingly slow pull of the zipper and he was almost as naked as she. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he growled at the sudden shaft of need her action caused. She shoved his shoulders with tender firmness, sending him up for a brief moment to his feet. He wasn’t there long; she pulled his trousers down to his ankles, then gave a frustrated sigh. Smiling roguishly, he toed off his black Ferragamo slipons and slid his pants and briefs away.

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Gently, she cupped his testicles and tenderly weighed them, squeezing them carefully as she watched his shaft pulsate and bounce. Clear, sticky liquid appeared on the head, slowly rolling down his heavy length in one tantalizing line. “Umm, come here,” she said, pulling him toward her. When he was in front of her, she swallowed his cock in one slow gulp, bringing his member into her mouth and sucking him into her throat. He inhaled deeply, his breath catching as she devoured him in slow, torturous movements. His hips rose to meet her, his hands fisting in her hair as his mind went red with desire. She licked and nipped, sucked and drank, pulling him in and out of her mouth with relish. He groaned as her pace quickened, hissing as their rising heartbeats reverberated down his spine like molten fire. She pulled away, giving his cock one last lick as she turned her gaze to his. “Sorry, I got carried away.” “No, don’t apologize,” he rasped out. “Don’t ever apologize for giving me that kind of incredible pleasure.” “Um, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, big boy,” she taunted playfully, slithering across the bed as she grasped his hand and pulled him to the mattress. He obliged her with a sinfully sexy grin, his eyes flashing as he watched her maneuver. As he slid onto the sheets, she flipped herself around to straddle him, her wet curls gliding over his stomach as she sat on him. “Do you trust me?” she asked wickedly. “I let you put my cock in your mouth. I’d say that’s a yes,” he joked. “Good then,” she said quietly. Before he could think, she was sliding a slick strand of red ribbon over one of his wrists. He waited and watched her with a sensually aroused stare, knowing full well that what she was doing would never hold him down, not if he truly wanted to get away. She had to know it, too, but that was obviously not the point. “Why, Eve, you are full of surprises,” he said slyly, his heart pounding as she leaned over him to tie his other hand to the heavy wrought iron headboard. “I think I like this part of you.” “Oh, I know what part of you I like,” she purred suggestively. He chuckled at her comment, then fell into a groan as she lowered herself inch by torturous inch onto his throbbing cock. She engulfed him with scorching heat, the walls tightening in slick waves as he filled her completely. She sat for a moment her eyes filled with dark pleasure, then, slowly she began to rock, her hips gently moving back and forth in a tormenting rhythm. Her breasts bounced delicately as her body moved, her erect nipples pointed up and proud in the cool air. He tried not to fight against the bindings that were wrapped around his wrists as his mouth watered for the taste of her breasts. It was amazing, this joining of mind and body. They did it now

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without conscious effort or thought, as easily as they breathed. He let her take him deep inside over and over again, his body tightening as she rode him. He growled with his need to lick her nipples, and she obliged him readily, leaning down to feed him her breasts. He immediately suckled one nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a firm pull. She rode him harder, lifting and slamming, rocking back before she repeated the process. With his hands tied, he was completely vulnerable to her; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so completely aroused. He shoved inside of her, his body quivering as her sticky fluids eased his way. He moved with her, desperately trying to keep her beat instead of hurrying the act. His wrists chafed against the cool satin of the ties, the sensation adding another darkly sensual layer to their sex. Moaning deeply, he bit down gently on her nipple, sending the waves of her orgasm washing through his mind and over his cock. Eve came with hard, muscle tightening shudders. She kept her hips rocking as she orgasmed, her walls contracting around his large shaft as she cried out her completion. His mind began to shatter into billions of stars as he finally filled her with his hot liquid. In the hallway, Gray watched as the couple peaked and came, his eyes fastened on the scene. He should have looked away, but he hadn’t been able to as Rath chanted Eve’s pet name, a thaisce, over and over again. They were beautiful together, sleek and mesmerizing as they made love on the ages old iron bed. With painful clarity, he remembered how it felt to wrap himself in the woman he loved. He remembered what her lithe body had felt like against his, how her full breasts had filled his palms, how she had gloved him so perfectly in her heated walls. And he had lost that, lost it completely and totally. Her fiancé, he remembered with a heartsick shaft of cold ice. Julia had denied it, but it was plain that this other man, this Gideon, had been with her long enough and seriously enough for Abram to think that their relationship had moved to that level. With shaky legs, he moved away from Eve’s room, winding down the stairs at an unearthly speed as he followed the scent of the woman who had once been his lover. When he reached the wooden door, he laid an unsteady hand on the warm barrier and let his forehead fall quietly against the wood. “Oh, Julia,” he breathed, allowing himself the luxury of regret this one time while she was here. After a few moments, he took a deep breath, pushed himself away and gave the door one last, long look. Then he moved away as quickly and stealthily as his genetic powers allowed, leaving behind what was left of his heart on the hard, cold stone floor.

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Chapter Eighteen “You’re a werewolf.” Gray choked on the piece of the bacon he’d just put in his mouth and he stared, watery eyed, across the island at Eve. Absently, he swiped at the crumbs on his gray T-shirt as he tried to focus his gaze, giving himself a few seconds to gather his reeling thoughts. Her little announcements had a way of popping out whenever he was eating, causing his poor throat to constrict and strangle him. Of course her little statement of fact would be made while he was trying to have a peaceful breakfast. He’d come to expect nothing less. Wiping his mouth with a white paper napkin, he rasped out, “And what makes you think that?” “Well, I’ve been putting certain things together,” she told him conversationally. “You’re disappearing once a month, the strange way you act, your quick, nearly soundless movements, the way you love to be in the woods. Plus, I’m apparently very sensitive in knowing these things.” She crossed her arms over her green swathed chest and waited for a reply. “Well, um, it’s, uh, it’s complicated,” he stammered, keeping his seat on the high stool behind the island. “I just ... well, I was just ... damn it, Eve, I couldn’t have just spit it out.” “No, not before, but how about these past weeks? There’s been ample opportunity for you to open that attractive mouth of yours and admit to me what you are. A werewolf.” “Yeah, I guess I could have, but, well, I didn’t see any need --” She didn’t have to say a word, only had to lift one eyebrow in disbelief and mockery. He knew he’d just sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t change what he’d been thinking. “Look, okay, I should have said something,” Gray admitted. “But the fact was, after your outburst when you found out the truth, after that vicious storm you conjured up without thinking, I was afraid you’d fry me with a stray bolt of lightening.”

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He watched in sick fascination as her lips began to quiver. Finally, laughter bubbled out of Eve’s mouth in full waves. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused right along with her or if he should call Abram. She certainly was taking this awfully well, especially considering her reaction to everything else. “Gray, really, I think if I wanted to kill you I’d have done it the minute I figured it out,” she chuckled, staring at him with twinkling eyes. “I really should make you squirm some more, but you’ve tolerated me so well ever since the beginning of the summer, that I just can’t do it.” “Well, I’m glad you decided not to torture me,” he muttered, not sure if he was insulted. “So, tell me Gray, how does this werewolf thing work?” she asked, sliding onto the stool across from him. “Were you bitten or scratched?” It was his turn to laugh, his humor restored at her questions. “This is real life, Eve, not Hollywood. Being a werewolf is something you’re born into, not something you’re made.” “You were born into a pack?” “In a manner of speaking, yes. We have a society to ourselves, one that is really more a hierarchy than it is a democracy.” “So, the alpha werewolf is the king?” “Yep, exactly.” He paused to take a sip of orange juice, not willing to delve too far into the facts of his pack and his life. “Anyway, I was born, just like any other human child, to a mother and a father. Only one of me, no litter; that’s a fallacy. And nature provides for mothers and babies, as well. Once a female gives birth, she won’t go through the change for eighteen months, which is when the baby goes through its first change.” “Wow, that makes sense,” Eve mumbled, watching him with fascination. “And when you’re a werewolf, do you remember what you’ve done? I mean, do you go on hunting sprees for chickens and deer?” He noted that she didn’t say killing sprees as so many would have. She obviously knew that he wasn’t an inherit killer just because of his bloodlines, which gave him a modicum of comfort. “Actually, you do remember most of what happens. Yes, we hunt, but because our human mind is also engaged, we have the ability to quell any rampage our werewolf mind might want to do,” he explained easily. “This is so interesting,” she said, leaning her elbows onto the tiled island and propping her chin on her hand. “There are so many facets to you that I never knew existed.” She waited a beat, then asked, “And how does Julia fit into this?”

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He was glad he didn’t have food in his mouth, or he would have choked yet again. She and her damned timing just might kill him. Not to mention the questions and statements that poured out of her. “Julia? What do you mean, how does she fit in?” he asked evasively. “It’s just that I noticed the way you two act around each other; it’s pretty plain that there was something between you once.” “Look, Eve, whatever might or might not have happened with me and Julia, it makes no difference right now. Besides, she has a boyfriend, and I have Griffin Keep and all the fine ladies who work here.” He knew his teasing hadn’t changed the undercurrent that ran like molten lava beneath his words. The tension was always there when he spoke of Julia. Keeping his jaw tightly clamped, he watched as Eve stared at him curiously, studying his expression. He hoped to God she didn’t push him, not about this. He was relieved when she gave a small, negligent shrug and continued. “And all the fine ladies in the keep definitely have their eyes on you. I swear, I find them standing at one window, staring at you while you do the lawn, pretending to polish the glass or the tables. That has to be the cleanest corner in the castle.” Gray laughed out loud, her comment helping to lift the dark cloud that had settled over them. “Well, it’s nice to know that I’m wanted,” he joked. “Hey, you were wanted by me, as I recall, but you turned me down,” she pointed out as she stole a piece of toast from his plate. “Actually, it was more like Rath tossed me aside,” he grumbled, digging into his scrambled eggs. “If you recall, I was thrown away from you.” She stared at him curiously as she bit into the buttered bread. A slow, satisfied smile crept across her face, mystifying him. “Umm, he did, huh? Guess he wanted me all to himself,” she replied a bit smugly. Gray snorted and shook his head. “You women,” he said with dark humor. “I’m giving up on trying to figure you out.” “What?” she asked defensively. “What’d I say?” “You don’t want to be owned, you don’t want to be told what to do or with whom to do it with. But the minute a man stakes his claim on you, you’re putty.” “Yeah, and?” He simply shook his head again as quiet laughter rumbled in his chest. “Never mind, Eve, just eat my toast.” With a bright grin she took a large, satisfying rip out of the crisp bread and gave her friend a saucy wink.

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***** Cain stared out at the waves that lapped up and under the side of the boat. They danced with glee, spraying salt water onto his cool skin as they churned madly. The captain, a man hired by one of Cain’s many vampiric contacts, had stayed conspicuously out of sight, as if he knew what he and Iliana were and was afraid to be caught alone with either of them. That was fine with him; he had plenty of willing crew members on this short voyage to feed from. Besides, his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of the Sacred Child to be concerned about being offended. He was going to find her; he was going to be the Ralarati, and when he was -His blood suddenly jumped and his heart skittered as a feeling of inevitability swept over him. She was close, he thought, his mouth twisting into a black smile. He could practically taste her, hear the pounding of her potent blood as it rushed along her body, just as the waves rushed along the boat. Not long, he thought. Not long and they would find her, and he would sink not only his teeth into her, but his cock as well, before she made him the most powerful being known to any species. “Cain, it’s only a few hours until sunrise.” He tried not to flinch as Iliana’s arms wrapped around the blue cotton of his T-shirt. It was unnerving to have her hands on him when he’d been thinking of the sweet, incredibly erotic Sacred Child. But she had been the one who had stayed with him, the one who hadn’t told him he was crazy to attempt what he was doing. She wasn’t the brightest vampire in the world, but she was loyal, and she deserved some sort of reward for that. Being by his side while he ruled the world would be her repayment; she never needed to know that every time he drove into her he was thinking of the curvaceous body of the soon to be Sodalina. “Ana, you should be resting,” he chided gently. “This hasn’t been an easy trip.” “No, but I’ve been with you, and that’s been worth it all.” She tried not to grind her teeth in frustration as she curled against his back. The silk of her black gown danced in the breeze, carrying her scent as well as his over the moist air. She wished he could have turned her blood to steam instead of ice, but fate wasn’t kind enough to give her that. Of course, Alrik had created him, so there was always the undercurrent of vicious payback flowing from Cain that made her just as warm. And it didn’t hurt that she could tap into his mind and see her old lover whenever they fucked. But, she had a part to play, one that had to establish an unshakable façade so that she could get to that bitch, the Sacred Child. Then she could allow the true power that she harbored to unleash itself with wild glee. Until then, she had to keep her temper as well as her current lover on a tight leash. “Cain, come to our cabin. I don’t want to be lonely,” she pled in a coquettish voice.

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He gave her hands an indulgent squeeze and turned to her, pulling her body flush against his. His cock was already hard and erect, full, she knew, from his thoughts of the woman they were pursuing. She understood that he needed someone to fuck, someone to sink into and relieve his pressure. “I don’t want you to be lonely, either,” he whispered, grinding himself against her soft stomach. “Let me keep you company.” She chuckled deeply, turning away quickly so he couldn’t see the flash of disgust that filled her blue eyes. This plan was suddenly becoming suffocating, but she couldn’t give up now. They were almost to the Irish coast, and from there he had assured her the Sacred Child would be within their reach.

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Chapter Nineteen Eve stood in her room, staring at herself in the cheval mirror. She looked strangely royal in the medieval styled dress with the long white bell sleeves hanging low and the gold chain slung over her hips. It had been odd to have maids come in to help bathe and dress her, but apparently it was one part of the day-long preparations for her ascension. Ascension ... the word made her gag, constricting her throat as her heart tried to jump out of her chest. She had kept herself distracted with learning to cast spells and being taught how to use and control her powers. Even Alrik’s nightly visits had kept her mind busy with things other than her birthday and the celebration of Lammas. Of course, her feelings for him only tightened the cold steel band of stress around her chest. She loved him. It was impossible, it was most likely crazy, but it was true. She loved him with everything she had, everything she was, and everything she was about to become. Even if she couldn’t have him after she morphed into this powerful hope for humanity, she’d always be grateful she’d found love at least once. She would hold onto that one sweet thought for the rest of her life, though it would do nothing to warm her bed and her arms at night. “You look beautiful,” Julia said, coming into the room with a ring of heather and jasmine in her hand. “The gown fits you perfectly.” Eve turned and gave her newest friend a reluctant smile. “Yeah, amazing, huh? But white always makes me nervous; I’m afraid I’ll spill something on it.” Julia laughed lightly at her comment as she walked to Eve, her spun white robe whispering over her feet. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just a few more hours and we’ll be ready.” “I wish --” she stopped short, not sure how to say what she was feeling.

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“You wish you could run away and never have to face this. You wish you could find a place to hide from it. But, Evelina, no matter where you go, this will happen. At least here, in the castle, you will have protection. And you will have the guidance you need.” Eve sighed in resignation; she knew what Julia said was the truth, but it still didn’t stop her from feeling like she was being torn into pieces, and it wasn’t just about her ascension. It was also the knowledge that tonight would be her final evening with Alrik. The other woman raised her arms and placed the wreath on top of Eve’s loose hair with gentle hands. With a sisterly touch on her cheek, Julia gave her an encouraging smile. “It won’t hurt, I promise you that. And when you’ve woken up, you’ll find that you have a whole new set of awakened powers.” “But will I be the same person? Will I still be Eve?” “I honestly don’t know,” Julia replied. “This only happens once every thousand years. The other Sodalina lived for centuries, until she knew it was time to die and move on. But I never met her, and the only one here old enough to have known her never did.” “Alrik.” Julia nodded, gently brushing a strand of Eve’s wavy hair over her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. I truly believe that who you are is whom you will remain, no matter what happens. You are, fundamentally, Evelina Griffin, granddaughter of Abram Griffin, daughter of Quin and Abigail Griffin, a born witch. You are a kind person, an open person with a full heart and an intelligent mind. None of that will change.” Eve gave her a grateful smile and sighed deeply. She wanted to believe what Julia had just said, so she held onto the words as if they were her lifeline. The sound of a car door slamming shut brought their attention to the window. Looking out, they saw a male figure step out of a dark sedan, the particulars of his form distorted by the stained glass. “That must be Gideon,” Julia said with a tender smile. “I have to go meet him. Would you like me to send Gray or Abram to sit with you?” “No, no, I’ll be fine,” she assured the other woman. “Besides, the sun will be setting in another hour and Alrik will be here.” “Alright, but if you need us ...” “I’ll pull the bell chord,” Eve promised. Julia gave her hand a quick, kind squeeze before hurrying from the room.

***** Cain gently coasted the motorcycle to a quiet stop as they neared the castle on the hill. She was in there; Iliana knew it. She could feel the Sacred Child inside her system as if her presence were a living thing. Her blood was on fire with the need to taste her, to take her

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power into her own body. Iliana’s grip loosened around Cain’s waist as she pushed close to his ear. “Why did we stop?” she asked, as if she didn’t know, as if she didn’t feel the same carnal drive. “She’s there,” he said, pointing to the massive stone structure through a break in the trees. “The Sacred Child is up there, preparing for her ascension.” “Oh, oh, that’s ... oh, Cain!” she exclaimed quietly. “You’ve found her!” She giggled girlishly, trying to hide her pure, wicked pleasure, then continued as naïvely as she could. “But, don’t you feel the witches and the blessing around the castle? How are we going to make it through the spell without being discovered and killed?” “We’ll find a way, Ana, trust me,” he replied in a steely voice. “We haven’t come this far to give up so easily.” Iliana smiled cattishly behind his back, the surge of power that emanated from the hold above swamping her senses. Soon, she thought, very soon she would be the one in control of the fate of the world. She would become the Ralarati.

***** “The feast of Lammas snuck up so quickly,” Abram complained as he readied the staff with blessed brooms. “We’ve barely had time to train her properly.” Gideon reached out to touch the older man’s arm, his broad hand warm and assuring as he tried to put him at ease. His gray eyes glowed brightly with the strength of youth and belief as he studied his mentor. “It will be fine, Abram. Your granddaughter was born to be the Sodalina, she will come through this as she should: fine, powerful, and whole.” Julia brushed a stray strand of her lover’s mahogany hair from his forehead with a tender touch before turning her attention to Eve’s grandfather. “Ian’s right, Abram. She will be fine, and we’re all here to make sure of that.” “The castle has had a spell cast around it,” Gideon continued. “There are witches stationed at different points around the perimeter; we’ve made sure that only our people will be able to come through the barrier. Anyone without an amulet will be repelled.” “She’s my only family,” the older man said quietly, continuing to hand the brooms to the other witches as they passed by him and into the ballroom. “If anything happens to her -” “It won’t,” Gray said from beside Abram. He carefully eyed the man that Julia was now resting her hand on, biting back a growl that threatened to erupt. There was something about him that didn’t smell right. It was something deep, something with an acidic brimstone quality. He assured himself it wasn’t

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sheer jealousy that was making him suspicious; he refused to allow it to be. It didn’t matter that Gideon, or Ian as everyone seemed to call him, was constantly brushing his fingertips over Julia. It meant nothing that he was free and easy with his affection for her; she was a grown woman, and he couldn’t have expected her to simply walk into spinsterhood because he’d left her. Still, for all her attention to Ian, Gray had caught Julia’s clear green gaze on him several times, and, even now, she seemed to be avoiding him a bit too deliberately. No, no, now wasn’t the time to torture himself with these kinds of thoughts, he told himself sternly. Quickly dismissing his observations, he refocused on the man he was trying to reassure. “We’ve done everything that’s needed, Abram. Eve will ascend as safely as we can let her.” “I hope so,” Abram sighed. “I love my granddaughter, very much, and the loss of her would, for me, be more devastating than the loss of the Sodalina. I don’t know if I’d survive her death.” The grandfather clock struck eleven-fifteen, its melodious chimes bringing silence swiftly into the cavernous room that was walled with windows. Abram lifted his chin, pulled the small leather pouch of sacred earth from the pocket of his white robe and motioned for the other witches to begin forming their circle. Cain brought his face up from the drained body of the female witch, her crimson blood trickling down his lips. Iliana watched him with lustful eyes, her face flushed as she waited for him. She had already fed from and killed the other Veneficus guard; his wrought brass medallion in the shape of the half moon now dangled around her neck. Cain gave her a triumphant smile and held up a matching medallion. They had their way in. Eve jumped when the sky rumbled outside as the storm rolled in with heavy waves of wind. “It’s okay, a thaisce, the gods aren’t coming for your soul,” Alrik teased as he moved toward her. She gave him a wobbly smile and fell against his chest as he came to stand in front of her. “I know, I know,” she replied. “I was just wondering if I was causing this storm, too.” “You are, partly, but so is the power below us. You seem to forget just how strong your grandfather is. He is descended from the line of Sodalinas; he is the head of the Venefici sect. His power added to that of the witches gathered below is quite a force to be reckoned with.” Thunder echoed above them, rumbling over the clouds like an angry child as the first tentative raindrops fell.

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“I’m just so nervous,” she whispered, burrowing further into him. “Crazy, I know, but this is so ... overwhelming.” “It’s not crazy, Eve, it’s natural. You’ve held up much better under the strain than anyone else could have, or probably would have. You have to know that you are a very strong woman.” Gently, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, careful not to crush the ring of flowers that covered her crown. He wanted to enjoy this, to take in every small detail of these few moments with his Eve. Too soon she was going to become something more, something that was untouchable to him. All he would have were his memories of what they’d been together. But having the memories of the woman he loved, he decided, was better than having nothing at all. “I’m not as strong as you think I am,” she admitted into his dark silk shirt. “I’m actually a coward.” “A coward,” he asked dubiously. “I doubt that.” “No, I am. If I weren’t, I’d have admitted to you a long time ago that I love you more than I ever thought I could. I’m not afraid of ascending, Alrik; I’m afraid of losing you.” Her confession stopped him cold. She had reached into his heart and pulled out the very things he’d been thinking and feeling. He wanted to pull her to the bed, hold her in his arms and make love to her while she chanted his name over and over again, embed himself in her and never let her go. “You -- you don’t feel the same kind of love?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Yes, yes, I do feel the same. I love you, Eve, more than I think any creature is allowed, and that’s the problem,” he replied softly. Neither said a word, both knowing that their admissions wouldn’t sway the world or fate. But in these sweet, precious moments before it was torn away, they had the love they needed. Suddenly a dark prickling struck up his spine, crawling up his vertebrae with sticky, icy fingers. He felt them, knew they had somehow broken through the spell and snuck into the castle. Damn it to hell! Cain and Iliana had found them! He pushed away from her, holding her at arms length as he stared at her with intense eyes. She stood, a princess in her royal garb, his soul and heart in her small, delicate hands. If he died to protect her life, he would hold this image of her while he faded to dust. “Stay in here, Evelina, no matter what.” “What? Alrik, I don’t understand --” “Just do as I say, a thaisce, and stay put. Even if you hear things, do not move from this room,” he told her firmly, his gaze turning fierce as he prepared himself for battle.

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She nodded quickly, her eyes wide as she swallowed against a suddenly raw throat. In the blink of her eye he was gone, faded through the wall to God knew where. Anxious, she turned her attention to the clock on the fireplace mantel. Five minutes until midnight; it was only five minutes until the moment of her natural birth, the dawn of the Wiccan celebration of Lammas, the time when she would change forever. They should be going downstairs by now, heading toward the ballroom in the back of the castle that had been blessed and prepared. Licking her lips nervously, she watched as the second hand swept over the numbers. This was ridiculous, she thought, expelling a loud breath. She couldn’t just stand here in the room without helping in any way -- without knowing what was happening to Alrik. Pulling her senses into her body, she slowly shut her eyes and forced herself to calmness. Only when she felt a modicum of control did she reach out, allowing the tendrils of her being to stretch and search through the people in the keep, in pursuit of the man who would always be imprinted on her psyche. She felt she was close to him, experienced a moment of relief, and then sudden, rending pain. She jerked back into her body as the searing sting shot up her veins, nearly burning her with its intensity. Determinedly, she began trying to catch her breath when the door was suddenly flung open, the wood splintering from the force. She gasped as a gust of damp wind sliced through her hair, momentarily fluttering the leaves of the wreath that adorned it. Lightning splintered the sky outside, unleashing a torrent of heavy rain that smacked belligerently against the window behind her. The lights exploded, then extinguished, leaving only the few blessed candles that had been lit to dance shadows against the walls. All of those things registered in the split second she waited, her muscles tensed for combat, for whatever had smashed in the door. Alrik stumbled in, a tall, lithe blond woman entangled with him as they struggled. She saw a gap in his black shirt, saw the blood that stained the jagged material and knew this was the wound she’d experienced. She fought her urge to run toward him, knowing she would be more hindrance than help. Summoning her adrenaline-laced strength, Eve reached out with her mind once again and pushed, sending the other woman stumbling back for a moment. Alrik took advantage of it and jumped toward her, only to stagger back a moment later, his face a mask of incredulous rage. He turned in a slow circle, his body sliding to the floor as he tried to stay upright and pull the wooden stake from his stomach. “Don’t think I didn’t come prepared, Rath,” the woman hissed, her face finally revealing itself as the vampire she was. “Those are stakes are etched with sacred runes. They won’t kill you, not right away, but it will disable you long enough for me to do this.” She pulled another stake from the leg pocket of her dark pants, and Eve reacted automatically. She pushed at her with her mind, using all the enraged emotions of protection that were coursing through her blood, sending the female vampire slamming into the far wall with a force she hadn’t known she’d possessed. The blond creature landed like a rag doll on the stones, her hair wild around her face as she sank to the ground.

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Eve conjured a bolt of fire to her fingertips and aimed it at the limp woman, but before she could send it an unseen force grabbed her from behind, pulling her hands down. “Now, now, I can’t have you hurting the woman who’ll be my queen,” a deep male voice said into her ear. He sniffed her layered tresses, sending a shiver of revulsion through her body. “You are going to be tasty.” Rath stood weakly, ready to attack as best he could, only to be tackled by a now aware Iliana. She stabbed him in the back with the stake, purposely missing his heart. He went down with a furious howl, grabbing at air as he fell. She jumped on him, yanking the stake out and flipping him over. “You won’t die right away, my love. You will suffer first,” she breathed into his face, her lips lifted in a look of sheer delight. The Lamia lifted her hand and sent the sharpened wood into the front of his uninjured shoulder. He struggled, but the cursed stake was already holding him firmly down. She laughed with ghoulish glee as she pushed down on the top, sending the tip tightly into the mortar of the stones. With a flourish, she took another stake out and slammed it into his already wounded stomach, making sure to secure it as she had the other. “Now you see, my sweet Rath, you should never have left me. You should have never stayed to become the lead lapdog of the Venefici. And then you add insult to injury by taking up with this ... this ... thing,” she spat out, casting a quick glare toward a struggling Eve. The woman in question concentrated on the points holding her lover down, watching as they shivered under her mind’s force. The woman merely laughed mockingly at her. “Please, you can try to pull them out but it won’t matter. The cursed runes have already poisoned him to the point of near paralysis,” she said mockingly. She was right, Eve thought; even if she could manage to free the wood there was no way Alrik would be able to fight. Resolutely, she tried to focus what was left of her mental power to send out a silent call for help to the Venefici below. “Um, Iliana, you are enjoying this, aren’t you?” the man behind Eve chuckled, jostling her concentration. “I had no idea that you were so close to Rath; but I guess that doesn’t matter now. Soon they will be dead, and you and I can have our revenge.” The blond just smiled wickedly, her blue eyes bouncing with excitement. Eve shuddered when she licked her lips in pleasure, as if she were anticipating a particularly lavish meal. She tried to physically wriggle away, hoping that the short burst of energy she’d managed to send out would find a mark, but the man behind her held her close. She shoved with her exhausted mind and sent the creature behind her reeling for a moment, pushing him off of her. She started to bolt, only to have him grab her again and push her against the cold stone wall, turned so she could see his face. “No, you aren’t going anywhere. And if you try to force me with your powers again, Iliana will kill your lover,” he threatened.

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She hesitated, not sure if she should believe him. Where was Gray; where were Julia and her grandfather? Why hadn’t these black Lamiai been felt by anyone? Had her call for help not found anyone yet? Had it been too weak? As she stared at Alrik, his blood pooling slowly around him, she struggled back her panic and tried not to give them the pleasure of seeing just how terrified she had become. Her control was stretched when the evil stranger laid his cheek against hers, nuzzling her face. After a moment, he pulled a scant few inches away to study her with brown, lust-filled eyes. “Um, I’ve wanted you since I caught a glimpse of you in Rath’s mind,” the man holding her rasped. “I’m going to fuck you before I take your blood, and you will love it. You’ll scream my name out, you’ll take me into that tight little pussy, and you’ll die knowing how a real lover feels between your creamy thighs.” She spit in his face, her features distorted as she sneered at him. Then he was arching sharply against her, his eyes wide with shock as blood gurgled and spilled from his mouth to her white gown. “You were never meant to have her, Cain,” the woman named Iliana hissed from behind him. “You would never know how to use the power you would be given. Sad, really, but I can’t let you live.” He shook his head slowly, as if he didn’t want to believe what was happening. Then she heard the distinct sound of another stake being driven through his bones. His image shivered for a moment, then dissipated into ashen air, the last look on his face one of incredulity and betrayal. His clothes fluttered to the floor as the stink of rotten flesh filled the room for an instant. Then the smell was suddenly swept away as what was left of Cain scattered on the wind. “Now it’s you and me, little girl,” Iliana said with a strangely bright, twisted smile. “If you stand still, I will make this quick and painless. And I promise I’ll keep Rath alive; I’ll have to keep him restrained as he watches me rule the world, of course, but he won’t be dead.” “No!” Eve screamed as her mind flooded with anger and ferocity. “You won’t have me!” She sent up a shrill sound in her mind, one of anguish and rage, sending the noise out to anyone who might pick up on it, praying that this time the sound would be loud enough, strong enough, to carry. Thunder roiled like an angry god against the clouds, the searing white lightening dancing gracefully over the sky as the rain continued to batter the estate. She shoved physically and mentally at Iliana, but her powers were not strong enough; she was still too young, too green in her abilities, and much too tired and distracted to pull on all her power. The vampire shoved back, her teeth bared as she lunged toward Eve’s neck. Eve’s world slowed in that single moment, her decision almost tangible as it hung in the air. She couldn’t let this woman have her blood, couldn’t let her have the power that came with it. The world would be plunged into dark chaos; the universe itself would be tilted. She knew she had no choice.

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She cast one quick, longing glance at Alrik as he lay struggling against the stakes that held him down. “I love you,” she whispered brokenly, then grasped Iliana around her upper arms. With one sure, sudden move she hurled herself and the black Lamia through the stained glass window, sending brightly colored shards out into the rain and skittering across the quickly deluged floor. They fell, Iliana furiously yelling her denial, Eve quietly accepting her fate. Eve felt her body collide with the stone of the outcropping that jutted out, landing in a shattered heap as the storm raged. She realized her bones were breaking, her legs, her hips, and her back. Then her head smacked into the stone and she knew nothing at all. Gray rushed into the room, his ungodly speed bringing him to the turret before the rest. Alrik realized that the werewolf had finally heard Eve’s terrified cry in his mind. But he hadn’t, even with his lycan haste, been able to reach her haven in time. They watched, horrified, as Eve took action. Gray quickly shook himself out of his shock as he bent down to free Rath, jerking the stakes from his body then squeezing them in his fists so hard that they evaporated into tiny bits of dust. Alrik struggled to stand, fighting the paralyzing effect of the runes, his eyes locked on the broken window. She couldn’t be gone, she couldn’t be. He reached out for her, but didn’t feel her presence. Desperate, he staggered toward the gaping hole, dripping precious blood along the rug and stones as he went. Gray helped him, supporting his weight with his arm as they approached the shattered window. They stared out into the night, the nearly blinding rain casting a curtain of silver over their sight. There, five stories below them, was Eve, her body twisted in a sick position as her sacred blood seeped around her limbs. On the drenched grass they saw the dark military style pants Iliana had been wearing lying on the soaked ground, the black T-shirt she’d had on speared through by one of the tall, whitewashed stakes which comprised the picket fence that Eve had erected around her garden. “She’s not dead,” Alrik said weakly. “Eve’s not dead; I can still hear her heart.” “But she’s dying,” Abram said quietly as he joined them at the window. “She must not die, Rath. She mustn’t.” “What -- what do you want me to do?” he asked raggedly. “I can’t ...” “Yes, you can, you have to,” the old man insisted. “We don’t know what would happen to her,” Alrik said, dumbfounded. “We’ll deal with that; but we can’t allow her to die. The balance ... we must maintain the balance.” “Go, Rath, you have to,” Julia told him firmly.

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They were right; he couldn’t allow her to die. And not just because of the order of the world. The idea of letting her slip away when he had the means to save her tore at his heart, leaving him more frantically desperate than he ever remembered being. He turned his pained blue eyes to the man beside him, hoping Gray understood the silent message he was conveying. Gray nodded almost imperceptibly, spinning on his heel to pick up a stray stake that had clattered to the ground in the earlier struggle. With quiet resolve, Rath dissolved through the walls, not caring that he was about to lose his life to save Eve’s. He would gladly die a thousand horrible deaths if it meant she would live. He appeared beside her in the rain, wincing as the lightening illuminated her battered face and body. Sinking to his knees, he tenderly brought her body to his. She hung limply over his arm as he gazed at her for an endless moment, absorbing her essence as he held her. “A thaisce, you will live. You will live, and our love will live with you,” he whispered his solemn promise. Lowering his head, he laid a gentle kiss on her swollen, bleeding lips, lingering for a split second over their connection. Silently, he slid his mouth away from hers, trailing his lips softly down her bruised, broken face to her neck, allowing the sweet taste of her blood to arouse his vampiric needs. The flavor of her had the desired, damned effect; his face changed, became harsher and leaner as his body altered. With a tenderness he hadn’t known was inside of him, he slid his now elongated, sharpened teeth into her neck, puncturing her delicate flesh in one smooth bite. Images flooded his mind as her rich, textured essence burst across his tongue and rolled down his throat. Pictures flashed of her as a baby, of her as a chubby toddler laughing and smiling into a mirror, of an awkward child with long legs and pigtails. The pain of being made fun of by the other girls her age, the joy of making a best friend. The pleasure of her first kiss, the shock of her first sexual contact. And among all of it, the laughter and love of her grandfather, the pleasure she derived from her garden, and her delight in the snow filled Christmases at Griffin’s Keep. Then he saw himself through her eyes, experienced the ecstasy that he brought to her, felt the way her heart had bloomed and accepted the love that they had created. Overwhelmed, he shuddered with the intensity of it all. He was suddenly ripped from the images by a violent surge of power, the quicksilver rush coating his veins as it shot through him and danced in bright shards behind his eyes. He shouldn’t be feeding from her like this; he knew that it was impossible not to ingest some of her essence, but he found himself drawing more than just what poured from the wound he’d made. He had to stop, but the power of her blood was a lure he couldn’t seem to resist. The clocks in the castle rang out with twelve chimes, echoing in his ears like sedate gongs. Miraculously, he could feel the world, feel it in his mind, hear it in his thoughts. His body quivered with the strength that now bubbled over his tongue and into his body. “Alrik, please,” Eve’s voice floated into his mind. “You must let go, or I’ll die.”

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Her soft thought was more potent than any physical shove could have been. He couldn’t let her die; he couldn’t kill her, couldn’t take the sweet light of her life from the world. Their shared love combined and swelled in his chest, mingling and whispering with a soft, forceful insistence that demanded to be acknowledged. As quickly as he could, he manipulated the small pocket that held the vampire virus; the moment he felt the venom slip into her system he let go, bringing his mouth away from her supple neck. Gasping from his experience, he raised one wrist to his teeth and neatly sliced it open. He knew it wasn’t necessary to feed her his own blood, but he wanted -- no, needed, to be sure she was well and truly changed to an immortal. He held his wound to her lips and let out a relieved sigh as she drank from him, beyond a doubt cementing the life giving change. When she finally released him, he collapsed onto his back, exhausted and spent, his wounds still oozing and throbbing. He lay quietly, his blood burning with the power he’d inadvertently absorbed from her. He waited for the stake, waited for Gray to kill him so that he wouldn’t pose a danger to the world. It didn’t matter now if he died; he had saved Eve. She was alive. If that was the only noble thing he’d done in his life, it had been enough. “No!” Abram’s voice boomed from above them, staying the werewolf’s hand. Light, bright and blinding, shivered over Eve’s body. It rose and fell, like a fine mist of gold, as it floated through her. Alrik’s limbs began to pour out an aura of fine silver, the strong color merging and melding with the essence of Eve’s. Together, they were enveloped with the spectrum of precious metals, covered with it as their bodies were healed and made whole with the dazzling glow. Eve came to slow awareness, her mind filled with the warmth of the earth, the depth of the universe, the tangled thoughts of humanity. Even as she worried about the weight of it all, her mind blocked the pain, allowing the overwhelming feelings to pour through her like warm waves of water. She reached her hand out, grasped Alrik’s, and absorbed his presence as if it were a holy thing. He turned to her, his eyes full with knowledge, his heart beating a steady, strong rhythm as he watched her. “I couldn’t let you die,” he told her. “I didn’t want to die,” she replied. “You feel it, don’t you? You know?” he asked. “Of course I do. This was what was meant. What has happened was preordained.” “Why did your grandfather stop Gray from killing me? How could they have known?” he questioned softly. “The way we do,” she said, smiling gently. “Love is a constant circle, always in motion, always waiting for the two that belong to it to find it. We’ve always been, Alrik, always.”

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Epilogue Abram, Julia, Gray, and Gideon sat in the study, their minds thoughtful as they went over the events of the previous night. The ascension had gone in a way they’d never considered it could, and somehow, someway, it had left Eve more powerful and Alrik with the same strengths as his lover. It should have been impossible. “You knew, old man,” Gray said conversationally. “Well, I had an idea,” Abram confessed. “Of course, I would have allowed you to kill Alrik had you sensed Eve’s heart slowing. But there is a legend in the sacred books of the Venefici, one that I have been hesitant to share. It describes how, one day, a vampire and her lover would become the rulers. Most of us took that to mean that one of the dark Lamiai would somehow manage to seduce and then wrest control from the Sodalina. But when I realized what had to be done, when I saw Eve lying on the stones, it seemed to click into place.” “But, what will happen to them?” Julia asked. “They’re both vampires. Won’t that corrupt them?” “No, no, it won’t. She is too strong to allow it, and he is much too aware to permit anything dark to lay roots inside of him. I believe that they will be fine; they will be the perfect ones to lead us for however long they live,” Abram replied. “And what about the vampiric effects?” Gideon questioned. “No sunlight, poison by sacred blood and sanctified water ... there are so many downfalls.” “And none of them will touch either my granddaughter or Rath,” Abram informed him. “You see, being the most powerful creatures in the world comes with benefits. If the legends are correct, their becoming the Sodalina and Sodalite will cancel those things out.” “You’re saying they have all the advantages of being a vampire without any of the drawbacks?” Gray asked, surprised and impressed.

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“Exactly. But there is one other hurtle that Alrik will have to overcome,” the older man said with a serious look. All three turned their total attention to him, wondering what could possibly bring down a being such as Alrik Rath had become. “He’ll have to ask my permission to marry my granddaughter.” There was a bubble of silence, then the room was filled with booming laughter.

***** Upstairs, Eve rolled over into Alrik’s arms, her naked body draped against his in exhaustion. She leaned up and placed a tender kiss on his lips, grinning smugly when he groaned and stirred. His eyes slowly eked open; when his bright blue gaze landed on her, he smiled at her drowsily, basking in her attention and the feel of her curves on his skin. “He knows,” she said softly, brushing his unruly hair from his face. “Of course he does. I want forever with you, a thaisce, but I want you to make an honest man out of me. Think of the shame I’d go through if you only used my body for hundreds of years but never married me.” She laughed gently and laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling into him with a contented sigh. “I wouldn’t want you to have to live with such a terrible reputation,” she teased. “Then it’s settled. We’ll get married as soon as your grandfather gives us his permission.” “Yes.” “We’ll have it in your garden, in the morning, when the sun is warming the earth.” “We’ll dance until the clock strikes midnight,” she sighed happily. “And then I’ll bring you up here and make love to you until the sun rises again,” he decided with a distracted tone, fantasizing about their lovemaking. Eve ran small, happy circles along the expanse of his broad chest with her fingertips, letting her eyes close on a blissful sigh. “We’ll have forever, even when we aren’t on this earth,” he told her softly, reaching into her mind to pull out her thoughts. She smiled gently. “Forever,” she promised on a breath. Alrik rested his cheek against the crown of her head, inhaling her warm scent, his mind at ease even with the thoughts that now battered it. Reluctant to interrupt this precious time, he sorted through the knowledge that was bleeding through the world’s chatter. “I can feel it, too,” Eve whispered, her breath tickling his flesh. “They will be here soon; we can’t tell anyone. We have to let them come.” “I know. Gray will never stay if we tell him,” he said quietly.

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“Then we’ll keep it from him. He has run from destiny for too long; he has to face his past and his future.” “Um, at the moment I’m very fond of destiny,” Alrik joked, bringing the conversation back to a lighter note. “It brought you to me.” “And it brought you to me,” she concluded, her lips tilting up again as she relaxed. “Now, let’s do something we’ve never done before. Let’s actually sleep in this bed.” Chuckling at her comment, he pulled her further onto him and secured the cool white sheet over their bodies. As the sun eased its way across the bright blue of the Irish sky, the two lovers slept, entwined in each other and surrounded by their love.

Flesa Black Flesa Black is a married thirty-something mother of two. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia, where she is lucky enough to frequently enjoy Braves baseball games and tours of antebellum plantations and historic homes, including Margaret Mitchell’s house. Flesa has always been a determined writer ever since she learned how to hold a pencil. She particularly enjoys romance genres and the freedom they give her to create interesting characters and intricate worlds. When she isn’t writing, you can find her reading romance and science fiction novels, playing numerous board and card games, wandering in the woods and fishing. She is currently hard at work on her next book. Visit Flesa on the Web at www.flesablack.com.

***** Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

Cup of Revelation by Silvia Violet Available Now from Loose Id

Cup of Revelation “Watch me.” Lachlan 's silken voice stirred her from her reverie. She opened her eyes and saw that he was getting ready to undress. He moved with deliberate slowness. Unbuttoning his white linen shirt, he revealed more of his perfectly muscled chest. She couldn't keep her eyes from the waistband of his pants, wanting, yet not wanting him to remove them. He caught her eye and smiled. Dropping his shirt to the floor, he moved his hands to his jeans. Slowly, he slid them over his hips, and his huge shaft sprang free. He was fully erect. Terror spiraled along Brianna's spine, but she also felt a strong desire to reach out and stroke him. She had never thought of a man's organ as beautiful before, but his was a work of art, longer and thicker than any she had ever seen. She seriously doubted she could take all of it inside her. “Do I please you?” Brianna coughed lightly to clear her throat. “Yes.” What was the point of hiding her desire? She'd agreed to do whatever he asked. He would soon know just how pleasing she found him when he felt how wet and ready she was. He laughed softly and stepped into the tub. “Are you reading my thoughts again?” “No.” His voice was sharp. “Once I have given my word, you can expect me to honor it.” He settled in the water, and in a calmer voice said, “I don't need to read your thoughts. Your lust for me shows plainly on your face.” “You are certainly pleased with yourself,” she said, angry at his arrogance and unnerved that he could read her so easily. Even if he honored his promise to stay out of her head, could she hide any of her feelings from him? She clenched her fists against the urge to leap from the tub and run. He swept her hair back from her face and ran his fingers along her cheek, tilting her chin so she looked directly into his eyes. “I am pleased that you desire me. I meant what I said. Our coupling will bring you as much pleasure as it does me.” She let his seductive voice roll over her, calming her fears. If she were truly to honor their bargain, she would have to let herself be seduced or the tension in her body would tear her apart. He picked up a washcloth, lathered it with lavender-scented soap, and asked Brianna to lean back so he could wash the front of her body. As she tilted her head back against the rim of the tub, he began to rub her skin, using big, circular motions. The cloth felt like velvet against her skin.

Silvia Violet

Nothing he did was overtly sexual, yet with each touch, she felt more heat moving to the center of her body, and she fell deeper under his sexual spell. Maybe he had not truly used magic to seduce her, but she was caught in his web nonetheless. She knew that at that moment, she would, in fact, do anything he wanted, as long as she could have him. He asked her to turn around so her back was to him and continued to wash her, lulling her into submission. It was all so innocent. Yet, each touch stirred her, teasing her, making her long for him to drop the cloth and touch her with his hands. “Your dragonfly is beautiful. What made you choose that design?” “I don't really know.” She tried not to sound as nervous as she felt. Her tattoo was something she did not like to discuss. She'd dreamed about it and had simply known she had to have it. How did one explain such a thing without sounding crazy? Of course, she'd just seen blue fire shoot out from Lachlan 's hand so she probably didn't have to worry about that with him. Still, she was reluctant to explain her motivation. “I've always liked dragonflies.” “Surely there is more to it than that.” “No,” she snapped, immediately regretting her tone. “I'm sorry I ... I'm a bit nervous.” “Of course; we'll discuss it later.” When he finished with her back, he soaped the cloth once again and brought his arms around her body, so he could wash between her legs. When his bare arms touched her skin, she jumped as if he'd burned her. She felt so hot, so needy. When the cloth touched her, she moaned, her desire having reached such a pitch that a few strokes would have brought her release. But he gave her only the gentlest of cleanings, as if he was intentionally stretching out her need. He withdrew his hands and rinsed the cloth. “Your turn.” “What?” she replied, unable to comprehend anything beyond her raging need. “Your turn to wash me.” “I --” “Do as I say.” His tone was not angry, but it was firm. She knew she must obey, but she was uncertain if she could concentrate. He handed her another cloth and a different soap. This one smelled earthy, like leather and honeysuckle. She'd never explored a man's body the way she explored Lachlan 's as she bathed him. He was perfectly proportioned, and she felt like she could look at him all day. She longed to wash him with her bare hands, but when she put the cloth down and ran the soap across her fingers, he said, “You will have a chance to touch me later. Wash me as I washed you.” As she stroked his back, she noticed he had a raven tattoo placed exactly where her dragonfly was. The style was so similar, one would think the same artist had drawn them, but that was impossible. She had drawn her own from the memory of her dream.

Cup of Revelation

“Why did you choose a raven?” she asked, too curious not to inquire. “It is the symbol of my family, part of our crest,” he answered, but she could feel the muscles of his back tense. What was it about the tattoos? When she'd finished bathing him, Lachlan dried her and sent her to lie down on the bed. The heat of the bath and the sexual stimulation had lulled her until her legs felt like jelly. She had to grab the doorframe to keep from stumbling. She tried to summon a healthy measure of fear, but her body was too saturated with need to feel anything else. When she finally reached the tall, four-poster bed, she used the old-fashioned steps to help herself climb up. Pulling back the covers, she sank into the satiny sheets, relishing the feel of the fabric against her skin. Lachlan approached her, carrying a glass partially filled with green liquid. “W-what is that?” she asked, nervous once again. “A potion to make sure we do not produce any children tonight.” Brianna was mortified that she had not considered the question of birth control, yet she also feared his “potion” could cause her far greater harm than pregnancy. “What's in it?” Lachlan smiled. “Herbs, spices, and magic.” He answered as if magic were as commonplace as nutmeg or parsley. Brianna still hesitated to take the glass. “I have no desire to poison you, and I do not need drugs to control you. Your instincts know it is true, even if your mind does not.” He was right. Her heart told her Lachlan meant her no harm. She couldn't explain how she knew, but on some level far below her conscious mind, her body recognized him. When she let herself relax, her body responded to him, forming a deeper connection than she'd ever experienced with another person. The connection scared her but she could not deny that it existed. Once she drained the glass, he pulled the covers all the way off the bed. “Lie on your back, and stretch your hands above your head.” Brianna saw that he held pieces of thin, silky rope. She thought she knew what they were for, but in an effort to stall him, she asked, “What are you doing?” “I am going to tie your hands.” “No, please, I --” “Brianna, I will not hurt you, but I do demand that you surrender to me.” This was not at all what she had anticipated when he'd bargained for her body. She'd expected him to simply satisfy his needs, not toy with her, enflame her, make her want to obey him. If he'd simply taken her when he brought her upstairs, she could have fought the connection that sizzled between them, but every moment she spent with him, every touch

Silvia Violet

their bodies shared, brought her into deeper awareness of him and the unnaturally strong desire he invoked in her. And now, when he spoke, commanding her to give far more than her body, part of her longed for such a surrender. It would be so easy to let go of herself and sink into the thrall of his seductive voice. He watched her while she reluctantly reached for the thin slats in the headboard. The desire to resist and the desire to honor her word warred inside her. When she'd complied with his request, he used the ropes to bind her wrists, carefully wrapping the silk so the iron would not chafe her. Taking hold of her ankles, he stretched her feet out and tied them to the posts at the foot of the bed. Then, he tied a long piece of silk fabric around her head like a blindfold. She whimpered softly but did not protest. “If anything I do truly hurts you, you must tell me. I seek only to heighten your pleasure by taking away your ability to anticipate or resist.” His voice radiated like a low purr, and heat throbbed throughout her entire body. She wanted him desperately. Didn't he feel this urgency? If so, how could he stand to wait? What was wrong with her? She should be terrified. Lachlan was rumored to be a monster. He had her tied up, and no one knew where she was. But while she was wary and unsure what he would do next, she was not truly afraid. She believed him when he said he would not harm her. Yet how innocent could he be if this was the price he asked for helping her? She felt a tickling touch, like fingers barely grazing her skin. She didn't think it was his hands, since she didn't feel the warmth from his skin. The teasing touch traveled along her neck and across her chest. It circled her breasts and then concentrated on her already hardened nipples. She bit back a moan as she arched up, trying to deepen the contact. Then the touch left her breasts, moved across her belly and settled between her outstretched legs. “Please,” she cried, lifting herself to the tendrils that teased her. “Please, I need more.” She heard his soft laughter, and the light touch was replaced by the warmth of his hands. His fingers delved inside her while his thumb worked at the center of her need, but as she felt herself nearing the edge, he stopped. She nearly screamed in frustration.

***** What people are saying about

Cup of Revelation

Cup of Revelation Cup of Revelation by Silvia Violet is one of the best Faery tales I've ever read! You readers know what a sucker I am for high action, outstanding characters, and hot romantic entanglements. Silvia Violet offers readers each and every one of these things in Cup of Revelation and on a platter of pure gold! Fey-tastical!! -- Lynn Lowe, eCataromance Reviews WOW is all this reviewer can say about Cup of Revelation…Cup of Revelation is a great book to read if you like faery magic and a it has an engrossing storyline as well as a mystery that will keep the reader on the edge of the seats with all its marvelous twists and turns. -- Dawn, Love Romances

Cup of Revelation is an intriguing, delicious story with a hero to die for and sizzling sexual tension that makes your blood run hot. I had never read a faerie story before but it certainly won't be my last. This mysterious and passionate tale kept me reading long hours into the night. -- Cher Gorman, author of Wolf Island (Loose Id)