"Rot in Hell, Vincent," Beaux replied and turned to leave. He knew that Vincent's arms would not heal at such an odd angle. Thus, he would be unable to escape unless someone helped him. That thought stopped Beaux cold, and he faced Vincent once more.

The dagger felt heavy in Beaux's hand. He felt drained but knew he had to silence Vincent. Without a tongue, his old friend would have a hard time summoning help.

Beaux took two steps and was knocked to the ground. The black panther never hesitated as his massive jaws ripped at the vampire's back. Beaux screamed in pain but was unable to shake the panther. The large cat ripped Beaux's spine from his back. The vampire instantly collapsed into the sleep, and the panther proudly laid the glistening spine at Vincent's feet.

"Took ye long enough," Vincent whispered wearily. The cat lowered its head. "No matter. Better to be late than not at all."

When morning came, so did one of the servants. Vincent clouded the man's mind to keep him from seeing Beaux's body. Like a zombie, the young man released Vincent from the chains and returned upstairs. He would remember nothing.

Steeling himself against the pain, Vincent forced his arms forward, snapping them back in place. Then he fell face down on the floor as the healing sleep swept over him.

It was a week before Vincent woke. His hunger was ravenous, but so was the heart-wrenching memory of losing Katherine. He stood on shaky legs, and his world spun. He bent down with his head between his knees until the nauseating feeling passed.

Then he picked up Beaux's body by his head. It was perfectly preserved. That which made it vampire still coursed through the flesh, and Vincent knew all he had to do was press the spine back into his body and the flesh would mold together. However, this was not his intention.

Vincent popped one of the fangs from Beaux's mouth, hesitating before the final blow. He was in a vengeful mood and releasing Beaux's spirit would be too merciful, even if Beaux went straight to Hell. So Vincent ripped Beaux's head from his body, gathered up all the body parts, and set off to hide them where no mortal would ever find them.

Vincent returned to the castle with his mission accomplished. His Katherine was avenged, but as is often the case, revenge was a hollow thing. He sank to his knees as loneliness punched him in the chest. His heart hurt so bad he wanted to rip it out. Blood-tears dripped down his face as he mourned the loss of his love. Beaux was right about one thing. Vincent was in Hell.

Thirteen

1963

A drop of sweat rolled slowly down the side of her face. The hot sticky air clung to her skin, her hair, even her lungs. With every breath, the heat pressed closer. As she gazed at the tantalizing ocean, she battled the desire for a swim in the tropical waters. The temperature's unrelenting attack was driving her insane.

Calmly, she placed the muzzle of the pistol in her mouth and breathed in deeply. For the last time? She smiled at her own morbid joke.

Her forefinger pushed the trigger back, causing the hammer to click and snap forward. The stream of cold water hit the back of her throat refreshingly, and Jane sighed as the heat still pressed against her skin.

Her eyes moved swiftly across the ocean to the sunset. Fire burst from the star, scorching the sky into a multitude of colors. She held her breath in deep respect to the setting sun.

Jane sat on a rickety dock that creaked in protest as gentle waves beat against it. Remarkably, two decrepit gas pumps rested in the middle of the dock, awaiting proper burial.

At the sight of a battered old boat heading toward her, Jane got to her feet, gracefully running her fingers through her long brown hair. She studied the boat as it pushed away the water reaching to encircle its hull in a warm, deadly embrace. Ripples cascaded from the boat to the shore, upsetting the stillness of the surface. The motor held a continuous rhythm that drowned out the sound of water lapping against the dock.

The boat gently bumped into the buoyant platform, and Jane tied it down. Then she stepped back and observed the island's visitor.

"Got a dead man for ya," said Phil, a Jamaican who used his boat to run tourists around the islands. His passenger this time, though, was dead. Jane stared at the little boat tied behind Phil's. She was surprised it hadn't sunk with the speed he had been traveling.

"Gee, thanks," she grunted.

"De man's last wish was dah be buried on dis here island. Id's de strangest dhing I ever heard."

A shiver ran from her head to her toes. She had the strongest desire to run as far away from the coffin as she could.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" Jane asked nervously.

"Dhere's s'posed dah be a boa' full o' mourners coming in ad midnighd. Jus leave id here on de dock. Dey'll dake care of id," instructed Phil.

As she filled Phil's gas tank, wild thoughts flew through Jane's mind. She couldn't keep her eyes from staring at the coffin. So intent was her study, the gas tank overflowed and spilled onto her shoes.

"Shit!" Jane jumped back to avoid it.

Seconds later, Phil handed her four dollars and turned on the engine. "Take care, Jane."

Waving in reply, Jane watched the boat cut through the waves. She thought about the coffin with foreboding. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt that something was wrong. Then she realized that the sun had set. She shook her head and turned to go into the store.

A scream stuck in Jane's throat as she came face to face with a dark-haired man. He was so close that Jane could smell his horrible breath. Recoiling, she was frightened at the thought that the man had appeared without a word.

"Who are you?" Jane managed to croak out.

She stared into captivating blue eyes. A weird feeling overcame her as the stranger smiled wickedly. Inwardly, a warning shivered through Jane. She felt caught in a whirlpool, and a drowning sensation swept over her. She couldn't fight or run. Something drained her of her will and energy. She could only wait passively as the Stranger stepped closer to her.

With a surprising quickness, the Stranger forced Jane's head back, baring her neck as his teeth ripped into her flesh. She let out a bloodcurdling scream and tried to fight the beast, but it was too late. The deed had been done. When the beast was finished, he let her go, and Jane fell to the ground as weakness flooded her body.

The pain in her neck was excruciating. Jane couldn't believe the agony or the fact that she was still alive. Her hands went to her blood soaked throat. Lethargic and cold, Jane realized with a sinking sensation that she had just entered a world of hell that she would never escape.

The Stranger knelt beside Jane and whispered, "Ye have become me slave, me feeding ground."

Astonished, Jane remarked, "You mean, a human rat?"

Smiling grimly, the Stranger nodded. Blood dripped off his chin. Fascinated, Jane watched it fall onto his dark trench coat. Jane's head spun round and round. She wanted to stand and run, but her strength was gone. Fighting to stay awake, she made an effort to get to her feet, but a sea of blackness enclosed its arms about her. Jane fell unconscious to the ground, unaware of the approaching ship.

Jane drifted in and out of nightmares. She woke to find herself chained below the ship's deck, alone with only rats for company. She tugged on her chains in vain. Rusty though they were, she wasn't even strong enough to break them. Bleakly, she stopped fighting and stared at a nearby rat.

Jane's stomach grumbled. Am I to be served supper? Or is that also an experiment?

As if in answer to her thoughts, the Stranger suddenly appeared before her. He held a tray filled with food. "Eat, my friend."

"Friend?" Jane wondered. "I thought friends kept each other company, not kept each other captive."

Thoughtfully, the Stranger replied, "There are many types of chains, Jane. They need not be steel to bind one soul to another."

Vincent set the tray beside Jane. Sitting opposite his captive, he rested his back against a wooden pole. Crossing his arms, he watched Jane as she wolfed the food down.

"I know all about you, Jane."

Startled, Jane stopped eating. "What do you mean?"

"Through your blood, your thoughts. You'll know all about me, too, in time. Go on. Eat. Enjoy. Savor the taste. It won't be long before blood will be the only nourishment your body will require."

"Blood?"

"Yes, blood. You do know what that means, don't you? You will be my first fledgling. I am in need of a friend, a true friend. Immortality is often lonely."

"What if I don't want immortality?" Jane whispered.

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "Too bad."

Jane swallowed nervously and looked down at her hands. "I had a life."

"Now you'll have a different life." Leaning forward, Vincent whispered, "You have no choice in this. I have decided for you."

Getting to his feet, the Stranger smiled wickedly. "The thought of drinking blood appalls you now, but soon, very soon, it will appeal to you. Hopefully, you and I will come to a point when I can set you free of these chains. That I will be able to trust you."

Vincent's eyes darkened, and his smile faded. "Escape would be futile. I know where you are every minute. Your thoughts are my thoughts. I can see through your eyes. We are bonded, you see. Blood ties."

Jane slowly realized she was at the threshold of Hell. There was nothing she could do to stop this monster. "I'm not feeling very well right now. I'm tired."

"You need to rest, then. Let me bid you good night." Vincent rose to his feet. "Until tomorrow evening."

Jane blinked, and the Stranger was gone. Confused, she pushed the half-eaten tray of food away. The rats immediately swarmed. Sickened, Jane closed her eyes.

Jane woke with a start, looking wildly about. Someone had spoken to her, but she could see no one near. Nervously, she raised her hands in order to rub her temples. That's when she realized she was free. No chains bound her. Her heart leapt.

Jane.

Startled, Jane looked around but saw no one. Groggily, she stumbled to her feet and found her way up on the ship's deck. The sun was sitting just above the water, and the ship was nestled in a hidden lagoon. The island's lush tropical jungle came to the water's edge. However, there was a very small strip of beach to the right of the boat. Jane eyed the clear water carefully.

The Stranger's words rang in her ears. Escape would be futile. Your thoughts are my thoughts.

Jane knew in that instant that she had to kill the Stranger if she was to live, but how? Where did the monster sleep? Sitting on the deck, she searched her mind for all the vampire stories she had read. Wasn't it a wooden stake through the heart? Trembling, Jane jumped up, knowing she had little time.

She frantically hunted for anything made of wood and came across a broom. She broke it in half across her knee, tossing aside the bristle end. Gripping the weapon in her right fist, she quietly assessed its potency. Confident, she headed below deck.

Jane hesitated before the captain's cabin door. Cautiously, she placed her hand on the doorknob, but a menacing growl froze her in her tracks. The door swung open to reveal three black panthers standing between her and a veiled bed, protectors of the devil himself.

Jane jumped back, her pulse running wild. The jungle cats growled at her, but they did not leave the cabin. She wished she had a gun to shoot them dead. She dared not enter the room.

As she tried to decide what to do, the sleeping figure on the bed stirred. She had to escape now before it was too late. Jane turned and raced back up to the deck.

Freedom was foremost on her mind. Without a second thought, she threw down the stick, slipped over the side of the ship, and dove into the water. She swam toward the beach as fast as she could. Just as Jane reached the moonlit beach, the Stranger appeared on the bow of the ship.

"Stop!"

Looking back over her shoulder, Jane saw the Stranger pointing at her. The vampire's head was thrown back, and his eyes blazed red. Sharp white fangs flashed in the light of the moon.

You've been warned. The Stranger's voice whispered angrily in her ear.

Pushing her mounting fear aside, Jane fled across the beach and into the dark jungle. Adrenaline pumped through her. She was mindless of the beating her body took. Bushes and vines scratched her arms and legs, and she continuously ran into trees that seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was too dark for her to see. The trees crowded out the moon, and she relied only on instinct. Her bare feet were bruised and bloodied from rocks and sticks in her flight from the devil.

Jane heard someone crashing through the thicket behind her, closing in fast. With a burst of energy that surprised her, she ran faster. Suddenly, her leg twisted beneath her, causing her to fly forward. Landing face down, she realized she had stepped in a hole. She had no time to gather her wits before the Stranger descended upon her.

Throwing Jane over on her back, the Stranger sneered down at her. "This was a mistake. I see that now. My methods were crude. How could I expect ye to actually want to consort with the devil? Rest assured, young lady, I have learned from this experience. Yer wish is granted. May Heaven's gate open for ye, as it's closed forever for me and mine."

Attacking instantly, the Stranger remorsefully stole the life of an innocent.

Fourteen

1998--Pride, Louisiana

A cool breeze swirled around the petite woman as she stood on the back porch of her house. Closing her eyes, she thought she heard a robust laughter in her ears. She even fancied that she felt a masculine hand on hers. Yet she knew this to be a product of her imagination.

Sighing wistfully, Kate tuned out the muted voices of mourners within, wishing they would just leave. How can they carry on so when you are six feet under? she thought mournfully. Her heart began to beat erratically, throbbing painfully in her chest. She gasped, desperately trying not to cry. Her brother wouldn't want her to.

She tried to be strong. Taking a deep breath, she let it out as slowly as she could. She even counted to ten, but once that first tear escaped, the rest just spilled down her face. She couldn't imagine life without Kent's jokes, his smiles, even his temper tantrums. She had lost a friend as well as a brother and knew she would never stop missing him as long as she lived. She would mourn the loss of him forever.

So Kate stood there, still as a statue, with her arms folded across her chest. The tears slid silently down her pale face as grief refused to be cast aside. Fifteen minutes passed before she sensed a presence behind her. Unwillingly to be caught with a red, puffy face, Kate refused to face whoever stood behind her. A long time passed before she whirled around, unable to stand it any longer.

She was angry at the invasion of her privacy, but the bitter words died on her lips as her mouth fell open in wondrous horror. She took a step back and found herself pressed against the porch rail. Her recently deceased brother stood before her with the most amazing smile on his face. Kate blinked, not trusting her grief stricken eyes, but Kent still stood before her.

As she stared speechlessly at him, her horror was soon overcome by curiosity. He wore the jeans and shirt that she had buried him in. His sandy-brown hair was only slightly ruffled. She took his large hand in hers, amazed at the warmth. A chill swept through her as she looked up into his brown eyes.

Kate started to speak, but he pressed his fingers against her lips. "Not here," he whispered, glancing at the crowded house.

As if in a dream, Kate allowed her dead twin to escort her down the porch steps and into the yard. They walked past the pond, his arm in hers as if nothing had changed. It reminded her of their many nighttime walks before his death.

Kent had died of an illness that no doctor had ever seen. It seemed as if his blood just evaporated from his body until there wasn't a drop left. During those last four weeks, the two had joked about vampirism, but never once had either believed it, until now.

They had shared a house with all its expenses since college. Both were dedicated to their careers and had no time to date. Kate owned a real estate firm and worked long hours. Kent was a journalist for the local newspaper, The Advocate, and was constantly rushing off to foreign lands.

One night, while Kate was at work, Kent had been writing on the back porch. He had been scribbling furiously, unaware that there was even a presence with him. The vampire did not hesitate when he attacked, sinking vicious teeth into Kent's neck. Unable to scream or move, he was pinned to the table while the vampire drank his fill. He left just enough blood for him to live. When Kate got home later that night, she had thought nothing of finding Kent asleep at his work. She simply helped him to his room.

Kent had woken at noon the next day and was lethargic and frighteningly pale. When he began vomiting, Kate feared that the night air was making him sick. He stayed in bed all day with the chills.

After that, his appetite decreased day by day, making weight loss inevitable. Kate forced her brother to eat, but he even struggled with broth. At one point, she had tried serving him a good juicy steak from a local restaurant.

Throwing the plate across the room, he had yelled, "I told you. No meat!"

Hurt, she had run from the room in tears. Cooked meat was out of the question. Raw meat was dangerous. So he became a vegetarian but even that did not last long. Soon he refused to eat at all.

Then, one morning, Kate woke with a start, trying to remember the dream she was having. The images, however, were too fuzzy. All she had was the impression of a tall man in a black trench coat standing over her. She felt that the dream man was well satisfied with himself, but she couldn't figure out why.

It took Kate a few minutes to become fully awake, but even then she felt drugged. She looked at Kent, noticing how still he was. Panicked, she jumped out of the chair that she had fallen asleep in.

Her heart fluttered wildly as she checked his wrist. His skin was too cold, and she was unable to detect a pulse. Frantically, she shook him a number of times in a futile effort to wake him. Then she had hung her head as tears poured down her face.

This is it. The virus has taken his life. How do I cope with this world without him? My older brother, with me from birth, now gone.

Now Kent and Kate stood in front of a pond that they had found years ago. Her heart pounded furiously.

He's alive, but how?

Solemnly, Kent placed his hands on her shoulders and looked in her brown eyes. "You know what I am now. We joked about it before, but it's no joke. I'm not human. My soul has been trapped in this body by a vampire."

Kent stepped away from her. "He changed me right before you woke. It was strange. I felt you shaking me, but I was paralyzed in sleep."

He chewed on his fingernail. "Mercifully, he took me from the ground before I woke." Kent shuddered at the thought. "Otherwise, I would have had to dig my way out."

Kate's hand worried the cross at her throat. It was old and had been in her family for years. The ruby in the center of the cross felt cool to her fingers. Her mind was a jumble, and she didn't know what to think.

Turning swiftly to her, Kent grabbed hold of Kate's hands. "I have to warn you. You're in danger. He knows you, Kate, and not just through me."

Angry, Kent glared up at the Heavens. "Why?" he whispered. "Lord, I love you so much. How could you have allowed this?"

Kent broke down in tears before Kate. He sank to the ground and covered his face with his hands. His bitter sobs tore at her heart as the full reality of what he had become sunk in. He would be forced to feed on humans.

She started to back away from him, suddenly fearful. Reading her thoughts, he jumped to his feet, shaking his head in denial. "No, Kate, no. Not you. Not anyone."

Bloody tears poured down his face. "There must be another way. I'm still a God-fearing soul. I still love Him with all my heart. I refuse to believe He has cast me aside. If there is a way into Heaven for me, I will find it."

The silence of the night surrounded brother and sister as each became lost in thought. Then he whispered, "Animals. I will live off them. Blood is blood."

Kate watched him carefully. Lost in a world of shock and confusion, she couldn't think. She took comfort in keeping her mind empty.

The two had prepared for Kent's death, knowing it was inevitable. His deep belief in God had blossomed even more. They had prayed faithfully everyday. They went to church looking for answers but received comfort instead. What was happening now just did not make sense.

She realized she was shaking and took a deep breath and tried to get a grip. Then she remembered his words. "Why am I in danger, Kent?"

Wildly, he broke out of his reverie and grabbed her hands. "From my sire. You have to run from here. Run from me," he hesitated. "But, I don't want you to. Oh, Kate, what to do?"

He had let go of her and began to pace before her. He was a pack of nerves, running his hands desperately through his hair. Then he stopped and looked fearfully to the sky.

"He's coming," he whispered. "I can't let him get you. I won't."

The next thing Kate knew, he swept her off the ground and into the air. Scared, she clung to her brother, trying not to thing of the height.

"I have you, little sister," Kent assured her. The wind rushed at them, tearing at her hair and clothes.

"But, how?"

"The wind. I commanded the wind to help me fly. Now be quiet. You're distracting me."

Within seconds, they were back home. He set her down on the back porch with a stern warning to stay inside with company. The vampire wouldn't dare try anything with someone else around. At least, Kent hoped he wouldn't.

Placing a kiss on her cheek, he took to the air once more. A bit stunned, Kate quickly entered the house.

Fifteen

Kate didn't see Kent until the next night. Their cousin, Celeste, was in the kitchen making dinner. Kate stared blankly at the television set, not really watching. She just needed the background noise. Her thoughts were too chaotic. She wasn't sure how to deal with this situation. She was in a period of shock she couldn't get out of.

Visions of vampire movies picked at her brain, and her stomach twisted at the thought. There was no way she could deal with coming across a bloodless body or, for that matter, any lifeless body at all.

A light tapping on the French doors brought her out of her reverie. Instantly alert, she jumped to her feet and looked fearfully in the direction of the doors.

Is it Kent or the--?

She was unable to complete the thought. Not wanting to alarm Celeste, Kate quickly stepped closer to the doors.

"Who is it?" she whispered.

"Kate, let me in. It's Kent."

Relief flooded through her. Unlocking the doors, she swung them open for him to come in. He stared helplessly at her.

"What are you waiting for? An invite?" Kate snapped impatiently.

"Are you offering one?" he asked meekly.

"Don't be stupid. Of course I am. What the hell is wrong with you?" She looked at him like he was crazy.

He rushed in, making a point of closing and locking the French doors. He looked wildly around. "Let's just say it's a technicality. Who's here?"

"Celeste. She's in the kitchen."

Grabbing Kate's hand, he pulled her toward her bedroom. Thinking fast, she yelled to Celeste that she was taking a bath. Once in Kate's room, he locked the door and started pacing. Kate sat in her favorite old armchair and waited for him to speak.

"He is close by, and he wants you. However, he can't get in here unless invited."

"What?"

Kent waved his hands at Kate. "Don't ask me. Like I said before, technicality. Call it formality. Call it crazy cuz that's what it is. This whole thing has got me going nuts. This guy has a silly notion that you are his reincarnated lost love."

Kent laughed. "Boy, do I find that hard to believe. He told me if I didn't hand you over to him tonight, he would begin killing our family, one every hour. Now how am I supposed to survive with that on my conscience?"

Bewildered, Kate shook her head. She felt numb, and nothing made sense. Why on earth did this vampire want her?

"If he is that persistent, then maybe I should just talk to him," Kate said quietly.

Kent stared at her in horror. "He did this to me. He'll do it to you. Do you want that? Do you want to be a vampire? Do you want to know what I ate for dinner tonight?"

He shuddered and hung his head. "Do you want to have your soul snatched away against your will? To be lost forever to God and Heaven with all its glories? I've been basically good all my life. Look what it has gotten me. Why must I reap what I did not sow?"

As he ranted and raved, his face changed slightly. His pupils turned fiery red. His teeth flashed prominently, and a dark shadow passed over his face.

Kate rushed over to him and placed her hand on his arm. "Kent, please, calm down."

Aggravated, he pushed her away a little too roughly. She flew across the room and hit her head on the wall. The next thing she knew, she was in her bed staring into a pair of worried brown eyes. Kent placed his hand on her cheek. He had a painful expression on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Kate."

"What happened?" she asked groggily. She started to sit up. Her head throbbed. Moaning, she collapsed back onto the pillows.

"Here." Kent handed her some aspirin and a glass of water. "I didn't realize how strong I've become. I'm sorry."

"It's ok." She looked around the room. "What time is it? Have you talked to him?"

His eyes darkened. "It's only nine o'clock. You hit your head two hours ago."

"What about the vampire? He hasn't started killing our family yet, has he?"

"I spoke to him through the window. He is furious with me for what happened to you. If I had gone outside," he shuddered. "As it was, he could not hurt me. He can't come in here unless you invite him. He promised he would wait for you to wake."

She threw the covers back. "I'm going to see him."

He panicked. "No, you can't!"

"You mean I should sit back and let him kill? I don't think he'll harm me, Kent. I have to get to the bottom of this. Now."

Resigned, Kent helped her up. He knew that once Kate made up her mind, nothing would stop her. So he followed her out onto the back porch.

Sixteen

The night air was heavy with the scent of magnolias. Kate welcomed the warm breeze that caressed her skin. Louisiana's tropical-like weather suited her. She wasn't one who enjoyed being cold. Hot, sultry nights were her thing.

Brother and sister stood side by side, waiting for the vampire that had sired Kent. Kate's heart hammered in anticipation. Something familiar stirred in the atmosphere.

"Katherine."

Kate whirled around. The vampire's dark hair was shoulder length, and his blue eyes sparkled with joy. She couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him from somewhere.

"M'lady," he whispered. His lips held half a smile, as if he dared not believe. He took her hands in his and pulled her closer to him. "Ye are me Katherine, soul and body. The very image I loved long ago."

Kate looked at the vampire with mixed emotions. His speech was odd, and she couldn't help relating it to that of a pirate. His huge hand touched her cheek in amazement.

"The soul does shape the body," he whispered. "How extraordinary."

"I don't know you," Kate said quietly.

"Vincent Bellamy, at yer service, m'lady." Sadness darkened his face. "Am I at all familiar to ye?"

She hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I feel that I know you." At a loss for words, a queer smile of disbelief crossed her face. "Kent said you think you know me from a past life. That would mean reincarnation."

The vampire nodded. "I am positive ye are me lost love."

Suddenly overwhelmed, she sank into the closest lawn chair she could find. Her mind was swirling with questions, too many to possibly ask. "How can you be so sure?"

Vincent knelt beside her and looked into her eyes. "A love such as ours cannot be erased by time. I am of the spirit world, Katherine. I can see spirits that are all around us. Each one is unique."

"Do memories stay with the soul?"

"I believe it to be so," Vincent replied. "Human beings mistake these memories for dreams."

Kate swallowed over the lump in her throat. She thought about the dreams she'd had all her life. She'd termed them "chase" dreams and always involved someone doggedly pursuing her. She had casually disregarded them, deeming them as products of an overactive imagination and too much television.

After a moment's hesitation, Kate asked, "Is reincarnation a chance for redemption for lost souls?"

Unsure, Vincent replied, "I have no idea. Perhaps God intended for us to live again and again until we are at last accepted into Heaven."

Fearlessly, Kate touched his face. It was hard and cool. She instinctively knew he would not hurt her. "God is merciful then when it comes to memory, some of us anyway."

Pausing, Kate searched his face. The porch light illuminated his features clearly. "I have often dreamt of a man whose face I could never see. I thought nothing of those dreams, only of a great longing."

Vincent carefully took her hands in his. They were cool to the touch, but they nonetheless warmed her soul. She felt connected to him as none other, even Kent.

"In the year 1719, ye saved me from a group of vengeful pirates. Ye were vampire," Vincent whispered.

Kate's eyes grew wide, and she felt short of breath. I was a vampire? Oh, dear God.

Kate bit her lower lip to keep from crying out and closed her eyes as they began to water. Tumultuous thoughts bounced in her head. Her stomach churned at the thought of taking human life.

I drank human blood.

Her hand flew to her mouth as horrid visions flew through her mind. Vincent placed his hand on her knee.

"You did not feed on humans every night. You took only what you needed to survive. No more, no less. You had a strong aversion to being a vampire. Your feeding habits made you weak, and I lost you."

By now tears were rolling down Kate's cheeks. "How?"

Not ready to divulge the complete truth, Vincent said, "Another vampire took you from me."

"Kate!"

Startled, Kate jumped, recognizing her cousin's voice. "Oh, no. You have to go."

"But I have to talk to you," Vincent protested.

Kate looked frantically at Kent. "She can't see you here. She won't understand. Go, please."

Vincent's face darkened with frustration. "I won't be far. Call my name when it's safe."

Nodding, Kate turned her back on them and rushed inside. Celeste was two steps away from the door. Kate froze, feeling as if she had just been caught sneaking in.

"Where were you? You gave me such a scare." Celeste said. "I thought you were still sleeping."

Looking at her with a confused expression, Kate asked, "Huh?"

"When I came to get you for dinner, you were asleep. It just surprised me that you were up."

"Oh, that. Yes. Well, I just needed some fresh air," Kate said.

"Come and eat. You must be starving." Celeste grabbed Kate's hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. Kate resisted, protesting all the way. When they reached the kitchen, Kate decided that enough was enough.

"Stop it, Celeste. Let go of my hand." Kate dug her heels into the floor and refused to budge one more step. "Stop treating me like a child. I am not hungry, and I will eat when I am damn well good and ready."

Shocked, Celeste let go. Her face paled. "I'm sorry." There was a moment of embarrassing silence before she broke down in tears. "It's all just so hard. I miss Kent so much."

Ashamed at her outburst, Kate hugged her cousin tight. "It's okay, Celeste. We're all going to have a hard time adjusting."

Celeste let go and cried in Kate's arms, grieving for Kent. Kate soon found herself crying with her cousin. When they both finally got a grip, Kate stepped back and said firmly, "Why don't you go to bed? I'll be fine."

Celeste nodded. "It's been a rough day. You're sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes."

Gently, Kate turned Celeste toward the bedroom and gave her a gentle push. "Now go."

Waiting until she heard the guestroom door shut, Kate turned off all the lights, including the porch light. The moon shone so brightly that she knew the outside light would not be needed.

Leaning against the porch railing, Kate closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She let the warm breeze wrap her in its arms. The intoxicating scent of magnolias once again claimed her senses.

So luxurious, my Louisiana, my friend. Many people hated the hot and humid nights. Kate loved it. Often, even in the very middle of summer, she would sleep on the porch. There was a deep green lounge chair reserved for just those nights.

Yet, as much as Kate loved the heat of night, the daytime temperature killed her. It suddenly dawned on her how her life now resembled the life she had lived before, as a vampire. She loved the sun but rarely stayed out in it for long periods of time. Her skin always burned unless she used sunblock, and her eyes were super-sensitive to the sun.

Sighing, Kate shook her head and laughed softly. Stop rambling like a stressed out looney.

She looked up at the sky as Vincent's name crossed her mind. In the blink of an eye, the air around her swirled in a frenzy. Strong hands grasped her shoulders. He pulled her close and nuzzled his head close to hers, breathing in deeply.

Exhaling slowly, Vincent carefully made Kate face him. "Ye even have the same wonderful smell. It's mixed in with the scent of human, but it's there."

Kate smiled, unsure of what to say. Vincent whispered. "I am very grateful for whomever gave us this second chance."

Startled, Kate stepped back. "For whom? Don't you know? It's God. It has to be. Who else would it be?"

Vincent's mood darkened. "Ye speak as if ye know him."

"I do. He's in my heart. He's in my soul. He's all around us."

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "I can't see Him. All I see with my vampire eyes are lost souls, demons, and angels."

Kate laughed and shook her head. "Don't you realize the angels are His messengers?"

"They aren't all His," Vincent said quietly. "Some belong to Satan."

Kate grew silent as a dark image rose in her mind's eye. It was a terrifying shadow of a figure. The creature's red wings were clipped, to keep it from Heaven's gates. Earthbound, its evil haunted the living. A shiver ran up her spine as a feeling of foreboding descended upon her.

Vincent broke Kate's thoughts by grabbing her hand and softly kissing her upturned palm. Pulling her closer, his blue eyes caught hers, and she became lost in his.

She felt as if belonged with him. Their souls were entwined, and it felt natural and good to be with him. They were soul mates who were fortunate to find one another again.

Vincent's head slowly lowered, and he pressed his warm soft lips against Kate's. As the kiss grew deeper, she found herself relaxing against him. He absorbed her weight completely.

He placed soft, lingering kisses all over her face and throat. As his lips touched the madly thumping vein below her jawbone, he hesitated. Time stood still as they both listened to the pounding of her heart.

Coming to her senses, Kate gasped and pushed him away. She knew what he was thinking. She placed one hand on the porch rail to catch her breath while she held the other up as if to stop him.

Vincent's eyes glowed softly, like an animal's caught in the headlights of a car. They sparkled, mesmerizing her, and she found herself losing control.

"Katherine, I want ye with me always. Please, let me make ye a vampire once more. I cannot bear the thought of losing ye again. I need ye so much."

Kate panicked. "No, oh, God, no. Please, Vincent, there has to be another way."

"What other way is there?" he whispered.

She forced herself to look up at the sky and away from his powerful gaze. To look in his beautiful, ruby eyes would be to lose a battle that had just begun. She chose her words carefully.

"God is most infinite and most wise. His love is beyond comparison." She grew desperate. "I need to pray, Vincent. You have to stay away from me. The temptation is too great. You have to give me some time."

She sensed his anger rising as he thought of what she asked of him. Her apprehension grew when he turned his back on her. She could feel the rage emanating from him.

Quietly, he asked, "Do ye remember anything of our past life?"

Caught off-guard by his question, Kate searched for some memory, however faint it was, but her mind drew only a blank. She shook her head negatively.

"I killed the vampire that took ye away from me, but I have seen his spirit. He roams the earth, and he haunts me."

Kate saw again the dark image of Satan's angel, and she knew it was this spirit. Vincent continued speaking. "He taunts me most horribly. There is nothing I can do to stop him. The devil follows me wherever I go, making me existence a true Hell. He often appears to me as an image of ye. He reenacts yer death over and over like some horrible play that I can't get out of me mind. Me only sanction is the Church, believe it or not. For some reason, he refuses to follow me there. I know not why. I am positive that he could enter if he wished, but I think he does not like it. Perhaps it is the symbol of love that discourages him."

"How was I slain?" Kate held her breath fearfully.

"He captured ye. He knew ye were weak. Ye only fed on humans once a month. The other nights ye feasted on animals, which didn't give ye much strength. The fiend decapitated you and destroyed that which gave ye vampire life."

Kate looked at him quizzically. "Huh?"

"He took your fangs from you."

"But I thought--"

Vincent smiled, looking so handsome she melted despite her inner turmoil. "Thank God for the misconception brought on by this age's movies and books."

Feeling embarrassed for being so naive, Kate stumbled for something to say. "Where were you, Vincent?"

Years of pain were etched in his face as he lowered his gaze to the floor. "He had tricked me into drinking from a poisoned hag. I fell into a healing sleep. By the time I woke, it was too late. The deed had been done." He paused, swallowing over a lump in his throat, refusing to detail any further. "Ye were dead."

Kate could not bring these memories to surface, but she knew he spoke the truth. Realizing the information was proving too much for her, Vincent quietly picked her up and carried her to the lounge chair. He held her tightly, allowing her the luxury of immersing herself in her private thoughts. Respectively, he refrained from reading her mind.

Her eyes soon grew heavy, and sleep overcame her. When Kate woke, the sun had risen, and Vincent was gone.

Seventeen

Kate stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, trying to figure out what Vincent saw in her. She had never thought of herself as a great beauty, mostly an average Jo. Every now and then she'd get the occasional catcall from men, but she never paid much attention to it.

She had applied fresh make-up this evening and silently chided herself about it. She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and shook her head. Glancing at her watch, she noted that the sun had just set. She pulled open the bathroom door and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Kent, damn it, don't do that," Kate growled, pushing roughly past him.

He followed close behind her. "Don't let him in here."

"Don't tell me what to do, big brother."

"He won't be here yet. He's gone to feed," Kent informed her. He stopped in the middle of the living room and stared at his twin's back. She hesitated at the French doors before facing him defiantly.

"I went to church today and talked to Pastor Ricky."

Kent's jaw dropped. "You told him?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, Kent. I'm not interested in a trip to the local looney bin."

She crossed her arms. "Besides, you know Ricky. He's cool, for a pastor. I just figured he'd know something. I mean, after all, he does watch that crazy vampire show every Tuesday night."

Silence hung heavy in the air. "Well," Kent said. "What did he have to say?"

Kate sighed reluctantly. "Not a lot. He pretty much said that all that stuff was fantasy, but I got the impression that he knows more than he's willing to say."

"How's that?"

Kate shrugged. "I watched his facial expressions. You know I'm good at that. I could practically see the veil drop over his face when I started asking deeper questions about vampirism."

"He probably thought you were nuts. I can't believe you actually went and talked to him. That was stupid," Kent said, tossing his head back to get his hair out of his eyes.

Kate's eyes flashed with a touch of anger. "I'm trying to understand all this, Kent. I mean, first you get sick. Then you die. Then you show up on the porch when you're supposed to be six feet under the ground. Who am I supposed to turn to?"

His face softened with hurt. "Me. You're supposed to turn to me. We've been each other's rock for the past ten years now. Mom and Dad--"

He stumbled over the words. Even after all this time had passed, he still couldn't say that they were dead. In his mind, they were vacationing somewhere.

The doorbell rang, and Kate jumped. Aggravated at herself, she rolled her eyes. "Get a grip, Kate," she growled to herself. It wouldn't be long, and she reckoned she'd be seeing a doctor for her nerves.

She pulled open the front door, wondering who on earth was calling now. A bouquet of flowers filled the doorway. Vincent shifted uncomfortably as he waited for her to take them.

Her face relaxed, and shyly, she reached for them. However, Kent's hand grabbed her arm, and he pulled her back into the room.

"Kent, what is your problem?" Kate yelled. Her brother held her arm tightly, and although she tugged, she couldn't get loose.

Regretfully, she looked at Vincent, who stood pitifully in the doorway. Kent pointed his finger at the vampire.

"You're not getting her."

Vincent looked from Kate and focused on his fledgling. The pup actually thought he had any say so in the matter. His lip curled up.

"Come here, Kent."

The urge to walk out of the house was so strong, Kent didn't realize he was obeying until he had stepped out onto the front porch and stood in front of Vincent. Then he put on the brakes and shook his head.

"What the hell," Kent whispered. Confused, he looked at Vincent uncertainly.

Grabbing Kent's shirt, Vincent pulled the shorter man close to his face. His blue eyes held a faint touch of blood as he exerted his influence over his fledgling.

"Do nay interfere with yer sister and me again," Vincent murmured just loud enough for Kent to hear.

Then he politely let go of Kent and straightened his fledgling's shirt. "I have naught but good intentions. I'll not force her as I did ye."

Vincent stepped to his left, giving Kent room to pass. "Now go."

The sudden desire to feed came over Kent, though he had sustained himself before coming to the house. He glanced at Kate before humbly taking his leave.

"Wow," Kate mumbled. "Wish he'd listen to me that way."

Once more, Vincent offered the flowers. She hesitated briefly before accepting them. They stood awkwardly in the doorway. He wanted to enter, but she wasn't sure she should let him. Quickly gathering her purse, Kate rushed out of the house. One step at a time.

Eighteen

Wisely, Kate refrained from commenting about the power Vincent held over Kent, but it was never far from her thoughts. It dawned on her that if Vincent could so influence Kent, he could so influence her.

She stared at her computer screen, lost in thought. The night before, Vincent had taken her to a restaurant. She had been secretly amazed that he actually ate food. Another misconception thrown to the wind.

Her search on the Internet was proving fruitless. Everything she pulled up was either nonsense or stuff she already knew. All the information for becoming a vampire was out there. However, data for redeeming a vampire was nowhere to be found.

Her head turned to the French doors seconds before there was a light tap. Briefly wondering how she knew he was there before he knocked, she answered his call. He leaned against the porch rail with a flame-red tropical flower in his hand.

"It is called an amaryllis," he whispered as he placed it above her delicate ear. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful soul."

She smiled. "Such a poet."

His lips gently touched hers. Her body responded to his touch, and she melted against him. He swooped her off her feet and into his arms. "I have something I want to show you."

Within seconds, they were flying. Kate's arms wrapped around Vincent's neck, and she buried her face in his chest. She was not exactly a lover of high altitudes.

The wind was freezing, and Kate suddenly remembered that it was Halloween night. Shivering, she snuggled closer to her vampire courtier as an eerie feeling descended on her. All Hallows Eve was a spooky night for adventures. A short time later, the two were on the ground again. He set her on her feet, and taking her by the shoulders, he made her face him.

"This is home. Not long after I lost ye, I took up residence here. We're on an isolated island in the Caribbean. At first, I had servants from a nearby village. It didn't take them long to realize there was a vampire among them. I managed to spirit them off the island. Unfortunately, some of them returned, and, well, I was forced to dispose of them before their voodoo magic could harm me."

Then Vincent turned Kate around. At first, she saw nothing but jungle. Then it slowly dawned on her that they stood before a large plantation house. The jungle had claimed it as its own. Thus, access to the house was almost impossible. She realized that he had planned for this to happen as part of his protection.

The sounds of the night suddenly seemed loud and ominous. Scared, she stepped closer to him. He placed his arm protectively around her. As they slowly approached the front porch, the vegetation opened before them like a curtain, allowing them to pass unhindered before rustling closed behind them.

They climbed steps that magically appeared before them. Upon reaching the porch, they stepped not on grass, as Kate had expected, but wood. Looking around, she saw that the jungle's fingers didn't reach inside the house. The vegetation simply hung over it.

The roar of a jungle cat caused Kate to jump in alarm. Her breath stuck in her throat as she met yet another of Vincent's protection devices. Before the double door sat a huge black panther casually licking its huge paw. Her eyes grew wide when Vincent approached the animal and stroked its head. Purring, it walked around him, rubbing against his legs. It reacted just as a house cat would. She was surprised. His control even extended to animals.

Vincent's eyes met hers. "Come here, Katherine."

When Kate hesitated in fear, he patiently walked back to her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to the jungle cat. Its fur was soft, and soon it was treating her as it had Vincent. But she was still wary of the animal.

"Don't be afraid, Katherine. There are many panthers walking around here. I won't let them harm ye," Vincent said, ushering her inside.

The grand hallway was spread out before them. Years of neglect had caused the house to slowly decay. Grimy cobwebs hung from the ceiling, in doorways, and all over the stairs. The hot moist air had caused mildew to appear on the walls.

Kate looked reproachfully at Vincent. "Don't think I'm cleaning this place just because you're a vampire."

Vincent just smiled and took her hand. He led her from room to room. Panthers were everywhere: playing, sleeping, and eating. Despite his insistence that they were harmless, she was careful to avoid them.

The entire right side of the first floor was dedicated to the ballroom. Kate imagined for a brief moment the dark wood floor as it once must have been: polished and shiny, ready for dancers. Now, however, the floor was covered with dirt and grime, disturbed only by huge paw prints.

There were three sets of French doors on two sides of the room; one group led to the front porch, the other to the back. Dirt streaked windows lined the entire wall on the north side of the house. It was impossible to see either in or out.

The study was at the front of the house on the left side. Here, too, were three sets of French doors leading to the front porch. A huge antique desk occupied one side of the room. Behind it was a wall filled with books. Before the desk were two chairs for visitors. The desktop was cluttered with papers and books. Kate looked at Vincent with a questioning face.

"Before I found ye again, I dabbled in writing stories, works of fiction, mostly horror." He smiled grimly. "One must write what one knows."

Nervously, he pulled out a cigar from his pocket and toyed with it. "I have published several best-selling books, under a false name, of course. Some have been made into movies. I had to hire an actor to pretend that he was I. I set him up in a fancy house with plenty of money. He's made a fine deal with the devil, I guess ye could say."

Kate raised her eyebrows at this. "Really? Which author?"

He whispered the name in her ear, and she couldn't believe it. The world would be shocked to learn that a certain best-selling author was actually a vampire.

Taking her by the arm, he moved her into the dining room. A long oak table took up most of the room. There was a big bay window on the south side. The opposite wall held a beautiful portrait of the Lord's Supper.

There was a small door on the east side of the room. It was boarded up now, but it was once used by servants to bring in the food. When the plantation had been built, the kitchen was not part of the main house. The open flames of the stoves often caught the kitchen on fire, and it was safer to build it apart from the main house.

The stairs leading to the second floor were beautiful. An exotic flower carved from wood sat on top of the first baluster. The handrail was shaped like an ivy vine. A very talented carpenter had created the intricate detail of the rail, and Kate knew the carpenter must have hated it when the task was completed.

The second floor had a nursery, four bedrooms, and a master suite. The only room with furniture was the master bedroom. A large canopied bed occupied one side of the room. When Kate noticed the bedding was new, she glanced at Vincent.

"I was hoping ye would stay with me at times," he whispered boyishly, twirling the unlit cigar between his fingers.

Smiling, Kate replied, "It's a possibility." She sat in a nearby chair, suddenly tired. "I don't suppose you have anything to drink?"

"Believe it or not," Vincent said, "I did think of yer needs. Stay here and rest while I get it for ye."

Kate blinked, and he was gone. Sitting back in the chair, she closed her eyes and waited. The silence began to press down on her, and it wasn't long before she sensed that someone was staring at her.

Opening her eyes, Kate was startled to see the ghostly figure of a man standing before her. She had expected Vincent. The apparition was hazy and unclear at first, but soon the figure came into focus. Before long, the ghost had become a solid creature.

"Katherine de Minsky," he whispered. "I have come for you."

The familiar voice sent a rush of terror through her. Before she could escape, he had placed a hand on each arm of the chair. His face was inches from hers, and his foul breath made her gag.

"I have returned," he smiled. "You should've stayed home, Katherine. Now you get to watch me steal the power from your beloved Vincent. Only with his vampire blood will I be able to keep my form."

Kate started to scream but a dirty hand covered her mouth. The demon's eyes had changed blood red. He smiled, revealing pointed teeth. Helpless, she was forced to listen to his mad ravings.

"You should have stayed home on Halloween, Katherine. Spirits come alive on a night like this, if they're strong enough." His filthy lips touched her cheek. Shutting her eyes, she cringed. "I intend to keep you around, after I kill Vincent, as my human slave. I have a feeling your blood is sweet, as sweet as my revenge will soon be."

At that point, he raised his head and listened. Then he pulled Kate from the chair, wrapped one arm around her waist, and placed his free hand on her chin. Then they faced the door and waited.

Vincent soon appeared, a soft drink and a basket of food in hands. Upon seeing Kate's dilemma, he stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden fear in his eyes turned to a barely controlled rage.

"Let her go," Vincent growled.

The ghost laughed. "It seems we have a situation here, now don't we? You want her to live?"

His fingers dug into her flesh painfully, and he forced Kate's head to turn from side to side. "I'll break her neck, my friend."

"What do ye want, Beaux?" Vincent asked quietly.

"You, Vincent."

Time stood still as the two stared each other down. Then Vincent carefully set the food and drink on the floor. Kate's heart sank. He was giving in to the fool's demands.

"Ok. Ye have me. Now let her go."

The fiend shook his head. "No, not here. I have someplace special in mind."

Nineteen

The lonely howl of a distant wolf sent chills down Kate's spine. The fiend had brought Vincent and Kate across the Atlantic, to the castle Vincent had left so many years past.

Vincent stopped just before entering the dilapidated building. Though he had found Katherine, the memories plagued him. He felt terribly guilty that he had been unable to save her before, and now history was trying to separate them again.

Beaux pushed his old friend inside. Then he quickly stepped ahead of Vincent with Kate firmly in his grasp. He practically dragged her to the dungeon. She stumbled blindly behind him, admitting to herself that at least she had something to hold on to. It was too dark for her frail eyes to see anything but inky blackness.

The dungeon room was lit with torches. Beaux had thought things out quite thoroughly. There were chains bolted deep into one wall. Heavy and thick, Kate had a feeling that he had somehow stolen them from a ship.

On the opposite wall was another set of chains. These weren't nearly as thick as the others. Into these, Kate's captor locked her. They may have been made of lighter steel, but they worked. Try as she could, she was unable to escape. The cuffs rubbed painfully against her delicate skin. Helpless, a feeling of doom descended upon her as she watched Vincent allow himself to be locked into the heavy chains. Across the dimly lit room, their eyes met, and Kate's heart lurched in her chest.

Beaux stepped into the middle of the room and surveyed his work with an evil grin. That's when it dawned on Kate where he had brought them--to the site of her first death. An image she couldn't discern flashed briefly in her head.

"I have a secret to tell you before you die, Vincent," Beaux whispered. "I don't ever intend to let Katherine go. She will be my slave throughout eternity. When her body is about to die, I will make her cross over and keep her chained and weak. You will never be together."

Beaux attacked Vincent before Kate realized what was happening. She screamed and tried in vain to get loose. Vincent tried to fight, but his arms were too far apart. It wasn't long before Beaux let him go. Vincent collapsed to his knees. He couldn't even lift his head. The chains held him up by his arms.

Tears poured down Kate's face. She begged and pleaded for Vincent's life. She was like a mad woman, fighting with every ounce of strength she had. The cuffs caused her wrists to bleed.

Kate prayed silently. Oh, God, please save us.

Holding Vincent's head up by his hair, Beaux raised an ax high in the air. Kate's breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes tight, unable to watch. It was too painful. She waited for the horrible sound of death as the seconds ticked painfully by.

At last, she could stand it no more. Fearfully, Kate opened her eyes. Surprised, she watched Kent set Vincent free. Beaux's body lay in the middle of the room; his head separated from it. Suddenly, Beaux's eyes popped open and stared directly at Kate. The mouth opened and closed like a fish.

She screamed, drawing attention from Kent and Vincent. "That thing is still alive," she cried. "Why is it moving?"

Kent kicked the head across the room, far away from the body that was trying to find it. "That thing is a ghost, not a vampire. Different rules, I guess," Kent mumbled.

"Oh my God," Kate whispered. "How are we going to escape?"

"We have to survive until dawn, sis. It's only a few hours away." Kent set her free. Then he looked from her to Vincent, who had collapsed on the floor. "He needs blood."

Without hesitation, Kate offered hers, but Kent vehemently shook his head. "No. Stay here. I'll find something."

Kate rushed to Vincent's side. He was so white and still. She began to fear he wouldn't make it. She couldn't help but to cry.

Kent was back before she realized it. In his arms, he held a lamb. "Get out."

She reluctantly grabbed a torch from the wall and stepped into the hallway. The lamb bleated repeatedly. She wiped the tears off her face.

A few moments later, she realized the lamb had become quiet. Then Kent and Vincent appeared in the doorway. Vincent smiled weakly at her.

Vincent took the torch from Kate and set Beaux's body on fire. Then he took care of the head. "It may not last for long, but it'll detain him. Let's go."

"Where?" Kate asked.

"Yer place," Vincent replied. "To enter a living being's dwelling, spirits must have permission."

Twenty

Kate followed Kent inside the house, expecting Vincent to follow. She turned to ask him something and saw him patiently waiting for her invite him in. Shaking her head at the oddness, she welcomed Vincent in, hoping Kent wouldn't start his bullshit again. Then she closed all the curtains and locked all the doors. Exhausted, she dropped down on the couch. Vincent sat beside her. "I need more blood, Katherine."

Nervously, she gulped. "Mine?"

Vincent closed his eyes. "No, not yers."

Kent pushed a bowl filled with blood under Vincent's nose. "I found some raw meat in the refrigerator. Drink. This will have to suffice until tonight."

Kate sat back against the couch and closed her eyes as weariness overcame her. A sweet drowsy sensation swirled around her. She was almost fast asleep when she heard a horrible scream outside the front door. Jumping to her feet, she prepared to rush over and open it. Vincent grabbed her arm as Kent placed himself before the front door.

"Katherine."

Her eyes grew wide. Stunned, the twins looked at each other as their cousin pleaded to be let in. "Katherine, please, let me in."

Kate dragged Vincent to the window and peeked out. Beaux definitely had her cousin. Celeste thought he was human. They stood side by side, chatting quietly. Celeste knocked on the door again.

The demon looked straight at Kate and grinned. That's when she noticed the silver dagger in his hand. Unconsciously, Beaux raked it back and forth across his palm. Kate knew immediately his intent was to kill Celeste, unless he was let in.

"Oh, great," Kate moaned, stepping away from the window. "What am I supposed to do? We don't have long until sunrise."

Kate looked outside again. The sky was definitely getting lighter. The sun would be up in only a matter of minutes.

"Katherine. It's your old friend. Do let us in. I fear for Celeste. She might catch a cold, or something, and die," Beaux implored.

Kate was torn. She couldn't let him murder Celeste. Yet if Beaux got inside, he would win. Undecided, the trio stood unmoving in the house, fighting time on one hand, welcoming it on the other. Kate shifted uncomfortably. Then an idea occurred to her. Vincent grasped her by the shoulders, and she realized that he knew her like a book.

"What are ye planning, Katherine?"

"The sun is almost up. We let him in and stall," she said.

"But Celeste thinks I'm dead," protested Kent.

"Which is perfect," Kate replied. "She'll faint and leave him without a hostage."

Vincent looked out the window. "We have only a few minutes."

He grabbed Kate's arm and stood between her and the door. "Whatever ye do, Katherine, if all goes well and Kent and I find refuge in yer closet, do not disturb our sleep."

She nodded. "Don't worry."

"Invite them in," he whispered.

Nervously, Kate pulled open the front door. Beaux's green eyes were murderous. Distraught, she tried to stall for time. "Celeste, hi, ummm, come on in, Celeste."

Celeste started to come in, but Beaux grabbed her arm. His eyes met Kate's. "What about me, Katherine? You'd leave your old friend out in the cold?"

Confused, Celeste looked at Beaux, then at Vincent, then at Kate. When Kent stepped forward to help her in, her mouth fell open. Her scream startled Beaux, causing him to let go of her and drop the knife.

As predicted, Celeste fainted, luckily into Kent's arms. He pulled her across the door's threshold and carried her to the couch. Beaux became enraged when he realized he had lost his bait.

"Let me in," he howled.

The sun's rays were creeping over the trees. Kate could smell burning flesh. She turned to urge to Vincent and Kent to go, but they had already been forced to hurry for cover.

Beaux reached for the knife, but his fingers could not grasp it. He was already transparent. Kate could see right through him. He was infuriated and raised his fist at her. His mouth moved, but Kate's human ears could not hear his curses. In an instant, he had faded into the sunlight.

Twenty-one

Pyre crossed his arms and stared down his nose at the spirit before him. Since that first night he had tasted an angel's blood, he had been driven insane for want of more. The sniveling rot of a soul before him held the secret, yet he refused to part with it.

"I can take your precious Katherine, and you won't have any say in the matter," Pyre sneered.

Beaux clenched his ghostly fists and glared. "Why'd you bring me back, then? At least when I was trapped in my sleeping body, I was oblivious."

Pyre leaned forward and answered maliciously. "You insufferable little spirit. How dare you question the father of your race? Be thankful I'm a master at witchcraft, else you'd never have your dear Katherine."

Beaux smiled coldly. "I've killed every father I've had."

Pyre sighed in exasperation and chose to ignore the remark. "You know what I want."

Beaux smiled wickedly. "Then help me, Pyre, and when all is complete, you shall have your angel."

Vincent stepped out onto the back porch, and his eyes immediately lit on the vampire lounging on Katherine's favorite chair. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and his muscles tensed.

Pyre smiled coldly. "Battle much, do you."

"Who are you?"

"The answer to your prayers."

"And what prayer might that be?" Vincent asked warily.

"Why, to be a living, breathing, beating-heart kind of man."

Kate shivered and clutched Vincent's arm. She stared at the cup of blood on her coffee table. Her heart beat rapidly at the thought of Vincent becoming human again.

"How did you get this?" Vincent asked.

"Let's just say I know how the serpent snuck into Eden's Garden," Pyre smirked.

"Can we trust him?" Kent asked his sire.

Vincent quietly contemplated the situation before responding. "The question should be what does he have to gain?"

Pyre shrugged, acting as if he had better places to be. He reached for the cup. "If you'd rather not partake of the Son's blood..."

"Wait," Kate cried and placed her hand on his arm. She looked pleadingly at Vincent. "Have a little faith, will ya? I mean, the healing blood of Christ is all my pastor preaches about every Sunday. So if this blood will make you mortal again...."

"Okay, my love, okay," he sighed. Raising the cup to his lips, he said a silent prayer.

"Drink it all," Pyre instructed.

"But what about Kent?" Vincent asked.

"Don't worry. There's more. The fountain of Christ runs plentiful," Pyre said a bit wistful. "I'd have some myself but, unlike you, I enjoy my lifestyle."

A bit dubiously, Vincent drank deeply. He had never tasted anything so divine. He closed his eyes and licked the blood from his lips, savoring the last drop. The last thing he heard before slipping into darkness was Kate's panicked cry.

Her eyes glazed in shock, Kate didn't fight as Pyre tied her to the chair. All she could see was her brother's body exploding into dust. After Vincent had lost consciousness, Pyre had wasted no time in taking the much younger vampire's existence. Now she had to grapple once more with his second death.

Pyre snapped his fingers in front of her face, and when she didn't respond, he smiled and gently patted her cheek. "Don't worry, my pet. You shall soon have your Vincent, if not in soul, then in body."

He slowly surveyed the room. He had designed it specifically for this purpose. His house sat by itself on a hundred acre lot deep in the woods of Clinton, Louisiana. The walls were made of steel, and there were no windows to let in the sun.

His eyes gleamed in anticipation. Soon, very soon, Beaux would have what he wanted, and then he'd have his angel. He smiled evilly and left to finish the potion.

Vincent struggled to open his eyes. He was groggy, but he knew he had to wake. He pushed through the fog until he could at last see clearly.

He squinted, seeing what appeared to be steel above his head. He sat up in the bed, quickly noticing the welded cuffs on his wrists. They were attached to a heavy set of chains deeply embedded in the wall behind him. He could move but not much.

Then everything came back to him: Pyre and the tainted blood. He growled and tried to telepathically contact Kent. Panic rose in his chest when he could find no trace of fledgling. Then he took one look at Kate and knew instantly of her brother's fate.

"Oh, Kate," he whispered. "Forgive me."

She made no response as she had retreated into herself, and his anger rose at the predicament they were now in. He struggled weakly against his bonds, but whatever Pyre had drugged him with was still at work. He sank back against the headboard and closed his eyes, trying to re-gather what strength he had.

He must have slept, for the next thing he knew, someone was chanting beside him. He forced his heavy eyelids open and focused on Pyre. The older vampire paid him no heed as he completed the last words of the ritual. Then, he snapped his fingers, and Vincent felt an agonizing pain as his soul was ripped from his body.

In the space of a second, his spirit stood beside the bed. Confused, he looked from his body to the spirit of Beaux and then to Pyre. Before he had a chance to completely comprehend what was happening, the old vampire blew black dust at him. It clung to his spirit and kept him immobile. Thus, he watched in mute horror as Beaux's soul slipped into his body. Then Pyre sealed him in with a fine white powder.

As Beaux's spirit filled its new body, the eyes turned from blue to green and the hair from black to blonde. He looked wickedly at Vincent's spirit, and his voice dripped with evil.

"She's mine now, Vincent."

A bright light suddenly appeared above Vincent, and Beaux panicked. "Quickly, Pyre. He must not pass through Heaven's gates."

More chanting sprang from Pyre's lips. The words hung in the air and a heavy, almost drugged feeling descended on Vincent. It suddenly seemed as if Pyre were shrinking, but he soon felt the force of Pyre's magic as it pulled him out of the room and through the night air. His scream of rage echoed within his wooden jail. Pyre had imprisoned his soul in a cypress tree.

Beaux stretched, enjoying the feel of being flesh and blood again. He studied the cuffs on his hands and held them up. The older vampire smiled ruefully and shook his head.

"I kept my part. It's your turn."

He sighed. "Good luck finding a unicorn. You'll need some of its blood for the potion."

"I found the Garden of Eden, didn't I?" Pyre stated cockily.

Beaux grunted and gave up his secret.

Beaux knelt at Kate's feet, pondering his next step. If he made her a vampire, he'd open the floodgates to her memory, but if he kept her as his human slave, he could cloud her mind forever. An evil smile spread across his face as he gently brushed the hair of her neck.

He hesitated with his lips just inches over her vein. The call was too much, and he sank his teeth into her. He was careful, though, and took only a pint. Then he bit his lip, tearing enough skin away so that blood dribbled down his chin. He then kissed her with the knowledge his blood would bind her to him.

Satisfaction rolled through him. It had at last come full pass, and as he had promised Vincent so long ago, Kate was now his.

Twenty-two

Pyre could barely contain his excitement. All he had to do was reach out and touch the unicorn before him. There had been nothing protecting it, no magic of any kind. He had simply walked into the corral and right up to it.

Some guardian. He sneered. Must not be that smart of a witch.

His hand hovered over the unicorn's nose, and he stopped himself. He laughed ominously and spread his arms wide. "Very clever. A touching spell. I almost didn't see it ... almost."

Magically, the witch appeared at the gate, shutting it before Pyre could escape. She leaned against the fence and watched him cautiously. He merely laughed at her pathetic gesture.

"Think that'll keep me in?"

She smiled. "Once you stepped inside that circle, your powers flew the coop."

He fought down the panic when he realized he couldn't even call the wind to lift him away. He strode angrily toward her, and she wisely backed up. The second his hand touched the fence, sparks flew, and he howled in pain.

Closing her eyes, Bianca bowed her head in prayer. "To reap what he has sown, to love what he has grown, from this day forward, let his goodness flow."

Pyre clutched his burned hand and sneered at her. "What kind of spell is that, witch? I don't feel a thing."

She shook her head sadly and merely opened the gate for him. Without hesitation, he soon had her by the throat and pinned to a tree. There was, however, no fear in her eyes.

"Stupid witch," he growled, twisting her head to the side. He stared at her pale neck, waiting for the blood lust to rise. He so enjoyed this part, but he soon realized he had no appetite. Confused, he let go of her and backed away. Sneering, he tried to hide it from her.

"Well, you're lucky. Seems I've had my fill for the night." He pointed at the unicorn. "Just give me what I came for, and I won't kill you."

"It's not my spell to break," Bianca whispered. "And killing me won't change it."

He took one step toward her and doubled over in pain. He hit his knees, clutching his chest. His heart sped up so much he feared it would burst. He squeezed his eyes tight and curled up in a ball. Bianca knelt beside him and felt his fevered forehead. She sighed.

"Will evil never learn?"

Kate sat straight up in bed, gasping for air. She looked wildly at the sleeping form beside her, and with a shaking hand, gently moved a strand of hair covering his face. Her hands flew to her mouth to hold back a scream, and her eyes watered.

"How could I not have seen?" she whispered, scrambling out of the bed.

Weeks have passed, and me the lovesick fool.

"Do not be so hard on yourself."

Kate turned her head toward the whispered words and nearly screamed at the ghostly figure beside her. The being was so white it blinded her, and she had to shield her eyes. Finding her voice, she asked, "Who are you?"

"A friend."

A tear slipped down Kate's cheek. "He's not Vincent. I--oh, God. I thought he was Vincent."

She slipped to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself. "I've betrayed my love."

"Kate, you can't do this right now. Pull it together and get out of here."

Though her heart ached, she nodded and quickly headed for the door. Pausing, she leaned her head against it, wondering how she could have mistaken Beaux for Vincent, and why it now seemed so clear to her.

"Because I took too much blood last night."

Kate stiffened and whirled around. She blushed at his nudity and averted her eyes. Within a blink, he was right in front of her. He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers.

"You wouldn't have gotten far. You are, after all, still my fledgling, if only halfway," he whispered. He covered her eyes with his hand. "Why can't you just love me?"

He tore the skin from his lower lip and crushed his bloody mouth to hers. She resisted at first, but the taste soon had her craving more. He pulled back and searched her eyes, waiting.

"Vincent, please," she begged.

On some level, she knew she was lost in a dream, but the fact that it felt so real had her wondering. She was dressed in seventeenth century clothes and sat at an old wooden table with Vincent. He had been hunting all day and was busy wolfing down the stew she had cooked. Thus, he was unaware of her intense staring.

Kate wrinkled her brows, wondering why his hair was black instead of blonde, and there seemed to be something uncharacteristic about the way he was sitting. When he at last raised his blue eyes, she gasped, "But your eyes are green."

He looked oddly at her. "No, they have always been blue."

A sudden knock at the door made her jump, and she rushed to answer it. She nearly fainted at the sight of a blonde haired, green eyed man standing before her. Her heart sped up as she glanced back at the dark haired man at the table. Her heart said he was her husband, but her eyes swore it was the man at the door.

Confused, she backed up into a corner. The two men greeted one another cordially, neither acknowledging her strange behavior. In an attempt to clear her head, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she braved another look and found herself awake in the twenty-first century.

She blinked at the blonde haired man standing in her bedroom doorway. She hid her confusion as he placed a tray of food on her lap. She smiled weakly and thanked him.

"Did you sleep well, my pet?"

Not trusting her voice, she shoved a piece of bacon in her mouth and nodded.

"Excellent. I have a wonderful evening planned."

"Vincent."

"Yes?"

"Have we always risen with the moon?"

He hesitated before replying. "No."

She swallowed nervously, trying to penetrate the fog that had settled permanently in her head. "What are we?"

He smiled sadly. "What a silly question. You're human. I'm vampire."

Tears sprang to her eyes. "No, no I'm not."

Using her index finger, she lifted her upper lip. Her canine teeth were sharp and pointed. If it were possible, his face became paler than usual. He narrowed his eyes, barely able to control his anger.

"Damn it, Katherine," he growled. "You're drinking too much."

"Me?" she snapped. Her temper rose. "I'm not the expert here."

He gritted his teeth, and the vein in his temple pulsed angrily. Unable to control himself, he put his fist through a wall. Then he left without a word.

Twenty-three

Kate glanced around the moonlit porch. Vincent sat in a lounge chair, lost in thought and unaware of her presence. He held a nine inch dagger and absentmindedly dug the tip into his palm. He paid no heed to the blood that pooled in his hand and ran down his arm.

She blinked and saw the black-haired man from her dream in his place. One more blink, and it was back to Vincent. Thinking her mind was playing tricks on her, she shook the vision away as concern for him surfaced.

"What are you doing?" Kate asked with a hint of fear in her voice.

Vincent looked at her quizzically. Then he followed her horrified stare down to his hands. He shrugged.

"They'll heal. Don't worry."

She grabbed his hand and gently tugged him in the direction of the bathroom. "Let's at least clean you up."

He growled and snatched his hand away. "Damn it, woman. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

Kate hid the hurt and thrust her chin up. "Fine. Be that way."

She turned on her heel, intent on leaving, but he grabbed her arm. "Where are you going?"

She glared at him and through clenched teeth said, "To clean your blood off my hands."

He stared at her for a slip of a second. Then, before she could protest, he sliced her arm with the blade. She cried out and tried to pull her arm away, but he refused to let go. When the wound didn't immediately heal, he gave a speculative grunt and returned to his spot as if she'd never interrupted him.

Growling in aggravation, she rushed inside, but by the time she got to the bathroom, the cut had almost healed. She cleaned her arm and opened the bottom drawer, intent on getting a band-aid. Under the box was a photo of her and a dark-haired man who looked a lot like herself.

Kent.

The name echoed through her mind, and a heavy ache settled in her chest. She swallowed over a lump in her throat and closed her eyes, remembering her brother's life but unable to recall his death. When the picture was suddenly snatched out of her hand, she looked up into Vincent's angry face.

"He's gone now. Get over it."

She bit her lip to keep from crying and mumbled, "I can't even remember it. How am I supposed to get over it?"

He frowned. "Be glad you can't. Do you really want to remember pain?"

She sighed longingly. "But what are we if not memories?"

After a second of silence, he snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, are you ready? We have reservations."

Kate sat alone on the porch. Wrapped in a blanket, she watched the first rays of morning light the sky. Vincent was safely tucked in bed, and she had been unable to sleep.

The portable radio on the table crackled as the station slipped out of tune. She picked it up and slowly searched for another. A haunting melody made her stop on a classical station. The piano solo picked at her memory, and she tried to recall where she had heard it before and why it made her heart ache. The minute she closed her eyes, she stepped back into a memory.

Katherine and Vincent sat beneath the only tree in an eighteenth century courtyard. She felt a sense of warmth and love that for some reason had seemed lost for a long time. Tenderly, she kissed the back of his hand, hoping he could feel the magnitude of her love.

Music drifted through the air, and she relaxed in his arms, letting the sound fill her soul. After a few minutes, the pianist stopped, and the night was quiet once more.

"I feel so sad for him," she whispered.

Vincent gave her a soft squeeze. "Do nay worry, love. He is so filled with music that deafness shall not stop it."

She looked toward the lighted window. "Still, I feel his pain."

He turned her to face him. "Beethoven's a remarkable man."

The color of his eyes broke her from the memory, and she found herself alone on the porch in the twentieth century. She shivered and pulled the blanket closer. She now knew without a doubt that his eyes were supposed to be blue, not green, and the soul that now looked out from those windows had pissed her off for the last time.

Kate stared down at the sleeping vampire in her bed. Hate filled her heart as she thought of how he had deceived her. Her cheeks flamed at the memory of their lovemaking, and the realization of her betrayal sent a coldness through her soul.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The sun was at its peak, and while she knew he was utterly defenseless, she still feared him.

He slept on his belly and had kicked off the covers with his restlessness. She held the broken broom handle above his back, unable to deny the admiration of his firm physique. Her hands trembled as she hesitated. It was, after all, still Vincent's body, though where his soul had gone was a mystery to her.

Do it. Once he wakes, he'll know you know.

Steeling herself, she raised the hammer and hesitated as her eyes watered. It cost her dearly for the next thing she knew, she was pinned to the wall with the stake pressed to her throat. His eyes glittered dangerously.

"I'm a light sleeper, my dear," he whispered and pushed the jagged edges of the broom into her neck. It tore into her flesh, causing blood to gush down her shoulder. She screamed and fought in vain to throw him off. He merely laughed and licked away the crimson delicacy on her skin.

"Don't worry, dear," he whispered. He ripped the bandage off her arm to reveal no trace of the cut he'd given her earlier. "You'll heal."

Then he backhanded her so hard, it rendered her unconscious.

Twenty-four

Kate looked up through half-closed eyes at the man leaning over her. Weakness tugged at her consciousness but was soon pushed back as he smeared her mouth with his blood. Her eyes popped open as hunger punched her in the stomach. She blindly pulled his wrist to her and drank from his vein of youth.

Minutes later, she lay curled on her side as her body passed into immortality. He sadly brushed his hand over her hair and whispered, "I cannot let you walk the day. This was necessary. You are mine, completely mine."

Her temper flared, but her body was paralyzed. She screamed in frustration, but the only one who heard was Beaux. "Shhh, you'll be fine. You'll see."

Just let me die.

"Too late for that, my dear. Now just relax and let go."

She briefly thought of the human blood she would need upon waking, and as darkness claimed her, she growled, "You bastard!"

Kate screamed in horror at the body on her lap. Blood covered her hands and face and stained her clothes. She had woken in the middle of feeding. She hadn't even been aware that she was doing it until when she was almost through.

Beaux sat up in the bed beside her, completely unaware of what was happening. He looked from her to the corpse and then slowly clapped his hands. The applause echoed hollowly around the room.

"Oh, bravo," he said sarcastically. "Well, at least I didn't have to force you."

Her face was filled with terror, and she merely looked at him in stunned silence. He smirked. "But next time, try not feeding off the cleaning lady. Good help is hard to come by."

The comment sent her into hysterics. She slapped him several times before he caught hold of her flailing hands. He pulled her onto his lap and glared menacingly at her. "Let's get one thing straight, lady. I am NOT your punching bag."

He threw her across the room with ease. She hit the wall and slid into a crumpled heap on the floor. Stunned, she simply laid there, collecting her wits. When she found her tongue, she hissed, "Oh, but it's okay for you to abuse me?"

"As your master," he snarled, "I can do whatever the hell I want."

"Master my ass."

He gritted his teeth and struggled to stay calm. To prove his point, he motioned for her to approach him. The next thing she knew, she was kneeling at his feet like some dog. He even had the nerve to pat her on the head. Her face twisted in rage, but there was nothing she could do.

"As you can see, you will find it near impossible to disobey me."

"Hmpf, watch me."

He gave her a bemused look. "With pleasure, my dear." He frowned as he surveyed the blood soaked room. "You have some cleaning to do, my pet."

He left her kneeling in the middle of the room and began to dress. The minute he loosened his power over her, she flew at him in a rage. He easily caught both of her hands and lifted her off the ground. His smile sent shivers through her soul.

"I bind thee, Katherine, from hurting me and hurting yourself," he whispered, growing louder with each word. "I bind thee, Katherine, from hurting me and hurting yourself."

He repeated the spell until he felt the desire to harm him slip from her body. He set her on her feet, and she backed away from him with fear in her eyes and pain in her heart.

"Fine," she hissed. "But no spell can make me love you ... ever."

His smile faded, and he felt his own heart twist sharply. He tried in vain to keep the pain from reaching his green eyes. "I've got his body. What more do you want?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks. "His soul."

Several nights later, Kate woke before Beaux did. She turned her back to him as she savored the memory of her dream. Her heart lifted as she recalled the dream visit she'd had with Vincent. They had merely been walking in silence, but just his presence had been enough to appease her.

They followed a path in the swamp, and after a bit, he stopped and just looked at her. There was no blame in his eyes whatsoever. He understood she'd been tricked and held her unaccountable, even now. He conveyed his feelings about this to her without ever speaking a word.

"I love you," he whispered.

He took her hand and pressed her palm to his heart. Then he pressed it to the cypress tree beside them. Then, he kissed her knuckles and vanished.

Twenty Five

Kate looked past the human beast rutting above her. Her eyes glazed over as her imagination saved her sanity, and she fantasized she was walking on a sunny beach with her true love. A stinging slap on her cheek, however, brought Beaux's sweating face back into focus. Stunned, she merely gaped at him.

"Where were you, my dear?"

Unable to resist, she snarled, "Far away from you."

He narrowed his eyes for a brief second, then ruthlessly grabbed her breast and squeezed until she thought he would rip it off. She bit back a scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She met his eyes, determined not to give an inch.

He crushed his lips against hers, using his fangs to tear into the soft flesh. Blood flowed between them, and he sucked it off her lips. After he climaxed, he wasted no time venting his rage.

Still above her, he backhanded her, and she felt her cheekbones crack beneath his assault. Mercifully, she slipped into unconsciousness, thus feeling none of the pain he inflicted on her.

Kate woke to a darkness that pressed down on her. She tried to sit up and bumped her forehead against a hard, wooden surface. She quickly realized she was trapped in a coffin, and she screamed in panic. Beaux was using her phobia of tight places against her.

Her vain fight with the unrelenting wood soon had her exhausted. She was weak from lack of blood, and as she sobbed in despair, she wondered how long she'd been out.

A hand slapped down on the lid, and she froze. Unable to control her emotions, she whimpered softly, "Please let me out."

The only answer she got was his soft laughter. As his presence withdrew, her panic gave her strength, and she struggled to escape her prison. She soon fell back against the satin pillow as exhaustion claimed her body but not her mind. She had temporarily reached a level of acceptance.

Once more, she tapped into her imagination as a means of escape. Closing her eyes, she pretended she was floating on a cloud. She cleared her mind of any thought but that cloud. So it came as a complete surprise when her feet touched solid ground. Startled, she whirled around, trying to figure out what was happening.

The smell of blood overpowered the question of how she had escaped her coffin. She stealthily approached the campfire, and her chosen prey rose to his feet without question. He left his fellow hunters with the pretense of relieving himself and quickly rushed to her. She clouded his mind as she sank her teeth into his neck, binding his mortal body to her. He would do her bidding without hesitation.

Much as she hated it, Kate forced herself to re-enter her prison. The sun was close to rising, and if her plan was to work, Beaux had to believe he was still in control. She hoped she had accomplished the trick of barricading her thoughts behind a wall. If not, she'd soon find out.

When she woke at sunset, she temporarily forgot everything, and panic welled up inside of her. She beat against the lid a few times before memory returned. She forced peace into her soul and found the cloud that helped her escape the coffin.

She looked about her room, wondering how Beaux explained the presence of a coffin to the new cleaning lady. Then she realized he had simply clouded the mortal's mind to prevent her from seeing what it truly was. The poor thing most likely thought it was a coffee table.

She gasped at the sight of the hunter's broken body beside her bed. She hesitated as her eyes focused on the broom handle sticking straight up in the middle of her bed. Cautiously, she approached, disappointed when she saw Beaux was not a pile of ash. He was, however, locked in the vampire sleep.

Hope flooded through her, and she grabbed her purse and keys and took off in her car, headed for nowhere.

Twenty-six

Kate stared at the huge willow tree that took up most of the home owner's front yard. She had let her instincts guide her and had followed a dirt road for miles to end up at a stranger's. She cut off the engine, got out of the car, and hurried across the yard to the front porch.

As soon as she stepped on the wood, the front door opened of its own accord. No one blocked her path, but a force pushed against her, effectively keeping her out. Looking in, she saw a white haired woman kneeling beside a couch.

The lady stiffened and slowly rose to her feet. Almost regally, she faced her, and Kate's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't expected the face to be young and pretty. Equally disturbing were the woman's eyes. The pupils were iridescent white, outlined with a faint ring of black. Kate shifted her focus to the figure on the couch and nearly took off in a dead run.

"Wait," the lady commanded, holding her hand up. "Pyre cannot harm you or anyone else anymore."

Kate had backed out into the yard. She bit her lip as a sudden pang lurched through her chest. An image of her last meeting with Pyre flashed in her head, and she recalled her last look at Vincent as he fell into the sleep. He had looked innocent and sexy at the same time. She shook her head to clear it.

"Yeah, right," she mumbled. She turned on her heel, intent on jumping in the car, but the woman's words stopped her cold.

"I can help you free Vincent."

It was Kate's turn to stiffen, and she warily faced the lady. She narrowed her eyes and closed the distance between them within an eighth of a second. The vampire in her rose, and she snarled, revealing fangs.

"Don't play with me."

Unruffled, the lady replied calmly, "I'm not."

As she studied the mortal before her, Kate noticed a smell about her that other humans lacked. The lady's essence was laced with magic, some dark but most white, and she wondered what the witch had to gain.

The lady held her hand over the threshold. "Welcome to my home, Kate."

Cautiously, Kate shook her hand. She tried to furtively read the witch's mind and received a stabbing pain in her skull. She sank against the doorframe, holding her head in her hands. When the throbbing ceased, she looked accusingly at the witch.

"Hiding something?"

"Next time, knock first. I'm wise to your abilities and must protect myself."

"Who are you?"

"Name's Bianca, but I'm often referred to as th�CENTER>