Heated Fantasies

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Heated Fantasies ISBN # 1-4199-0540-6 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Heated Fantasies Copyright© 2006 Elizabeth Lapthorne. Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: June 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated S-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

MONTAGUE VAMPIRES: HEATED FANTASIES Elizabeth Lapthorne

This is most lovingly dedicated to Arthur John Lapthorne. I miss you like hell, but am glad you’re up there with a garden you finally can’t kill. How are the orchids? Wish you could see my beautiful purple petunias—they’re magnificent (for now) and you’d be so proud of me. I love you, Grandpa. 1920–2005

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Lycra: E. I. du Pont de Nemours and Company Oscar: Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences Playgirl: Playgirl Key Club, Inc. Playmate: Playboy Enterprises, Inc.

Heated Fantasies

Prologue

Scooper’s Pub, NewHope Earth Late 2205 Simeon Montague sat at the bar and nursed his drink. He watched with only lukewarm interest as his twin brother Rylan laughed and idly placed a curl of his shoulder-length, curly, dark brown hair behind his ear as he catcalled at the woman writhing around the stripping pole. The pole itself had been recently installed, whereas the escort who shimmied against it had been around the pub for at least a few weeks to Simeon’s knowledge. Their elder brother Michael also clapped, but had the presence of mind to restrain himself from jeering. Vasili, the brothers’ best friend, had stood up next to Rylan and just begun to throw credits on the floor at the woman’s feet. Simeon shook his head as Michael scrounged in his pockets for some change as well, his shaggily cut, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. Simeon smirked as he recalled the pains Michael had gone to a few nights earlier to place the blond tips in his hair just so. Frowning, he ran a hand through his own shoulder-length, straight dark brown hair and recalled the exasperation both his elder brother and twin had shown at his lack of caring about his own locks. Sidetracked, an ear-piercing wolf-whistle brought him back to the scene at hand and Simeon wondered if he should tell his twin to tone it down a bit. The woman on the stage seemed to lap up Rylan’s and Vas’ attention, and since she had decided of her own free will to be at the public tryouts for the new pole dancer position, Simeon decided she likely would not appreciate his attempt to tone down the more raucous section of her crowd. Sighing, he took a long swig of his drink. The fizzy faux soda tingled on his tongue, reminding him he really should be more excited to see a stacked blonde wiggling her ass and fondling a giant pole like a seasoned pro. He let his eyes scan the pub in faint interest, noting every other patron who had turned out seemed entranced by the vixen pretend to get herself off on a giant, slick pole. What the hell is wrong with me? he wondered idly. A gorgeous woman twisted and writhed before his very eyes. Every other male—vampire, alien, human and otherwise—were all drooling over her, and here he sat with more interest in his fizzy drink than in the supremely enhanced, oiled-up female on the stage in front of him. Maybe I’m sick? he questioned himself. Resting a hand on his forehead, he didn’t seem unusually warm, neither did he ache nor feel less than a hundred percent. 5

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“Something wrong, Si?” Michael spoke softly, leaning toward him across the bar. “Look at them,” Simeon stated, waving a hand at his twin and best friend. “You’d think they were celebrating their Majority Eighteenth birthdays and seeing a pole dancer for the first time. Don’t get me wrong, she’s good. But this whole competition is not that exciting,” he indicated at Ry and Vas who were now baying at the woman like a couple of wannabe wolves in heat. I’d rather be back home and reading that latest conspiracy novel on how the Groders plagiarized their galaxy-renowned theory about the Warrior species coming into power over the rest of the planet, he sighed sadly to himself. “Really enjoying that book Gav left you on the Groder Conspiracy?” Michael snorted. Simeon made a face at his elder brother and quashed the urge to punch his shoulder. He had no idea if his elder brother simply knew him too well or if, in his mild self-pity party, he had let the thought slip and Michael had picked up on it. “Very funny, Mike,” Simeon retorted. “Actually it’s a decent read and yeah, if it was a choice between that book and sitting here watching another stacked blonde ‘shake her thang’ for this huge crowd then maybe I would prefer to be back at the lodgings.” Simeon smiled as Michael caught his eye. At least his brother took his words seriously. “You feeling all right?” he asked with concern. Simeon just shrugged, not really certain how to explain his itchy restlessness, let alone ease it. “I think so,” he replied as he tried to probe his own feelings with no luck. “I think I’m just feeling a bit off.” When Michael just watched him and waited, Simeon tried to explain himself more clearly. “I mean, what the hell is the point?” he finally vented after a failed attempt to organize his thoughts. “I don’t really feel any connection to any of the women. Lea is a hoot to talk to, and I like her lots, but otherwise all the women here just seem to be the same sultry cardboard cutouts. What’s six or seven more going to help? Even if they can pole dance like the others can’t?” Simeon felt his frustration bubble but since Michael nodded understandingly he didn’t bother to continue. The two brothers sat there in silence together for a moment. Simeon watched the blonde arch her body to the exact angle to place her silhouette at its most perfect positioning, and then she licked the pole suggestively, causing the already excited and largely inebriated crowd to roar in approval. Simeon silently bet himself this one would make the cut without the need for a second audition. “Maybe you just need a bit of a break?” Michael finally suggested. Simeon snorted.

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“Or maybe I just need to get laid, you mean? Dammit, Mike, I thought you would give me a better suggestion. That’s something I’d expect from Ry or Vas.” Simeon watched his brother merely shrug and gaze out over the crowd with his dark blue eyes. He ran a hand through his short and shaggy hair, and Simeon had to admit to himself, the gold tips created the perfect contrast. Maybe he should try some in his own thick, annoyingly straight locks? Simeon snorted to himself. Nah, the gold looks good with his blue eyes. Rylan’s and my boring brown ones would never look that good or else Ry would have added tips decades ago. “Maybe for once we’d have to acknowledge Vasili and Rylan’s point. Not that I suggest we tell them that,” Michael conceded after a moment’s thought. “I think they both take the whole ‘indulge thyself’ business to the extreme, but maybe for once they could be utterly right here.” Both brothers turned to watch Rylan and Vasili jumping up and down on the spot, throwing credit after credit at the blonde and chanting some sporting call. Simeon smirked. “No shit,” he commented wryly. “I hope they leave themselves enough credits to cover their drinks. Scooper threw them out personally last time he had his wet shirt competition. If they weren’t such fantastic customers I’d bet he’d have blackballed them years ago.” Michael chuckled and the brothers settled together comfortably once again. “Maybe at least try to find someone who interests you,” he suggested gently. Where Simeon would have blown off Ry or Vas saying the identical thing, he listened since it wasn’t a common thing for Michael to suggest. Ry thought a night with a woman could cure any ill, Michael and Simeon knew better. “I can understand the boredom,” Michael continued. “You’re properly over your two hundred years, it’s a hump period where you realize not every pretty girl is worth the effort. I remember that time well.” Simeon rolled his eyes. “You’ve really become used to showing off the fact your road is so much better traveled.” He poked his brother in the chest. “It’s been a couple of decades since your three fifty years. Get over it. I understand you’re the elder brother.” “What I meant was,” Michael replied taking on a haughty tone, “there are certain times when you start to feel a bit down about the whole fact you can’t truly connect with someone other than that special woman who can complete your Soul’s Circle. It’s just a fact of vampiric life.” Simeon shrugged, hoped to carry off nonchalance at the slight change in topic. “I know there’s only one or two women in the entire known galaxy who can do that for me. But a part of me wonders what the hell the point is in indulging in physical and sexual gratification when there’s no connection. I know Ry and Vas love it to bits.” Both men turned again to watch Ry attempt to climb on the stage like a randy teenager.

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When the bouncer stepped on Ry’s fingers to dissuade him from the notion, both Simeon and Michael snickered. “But still, I can’t help but think there has to be more to life than endless sexpots strutting their stuff, and fucking woman after woman in an endless rotation.” Simeon watched as Michael merely shrugged and finished his mother milk draught. “Well, Si, old man,” Michael said with a pinch of jovial to his tone. “Out of the four of us, I bet you’re the one to find out if there is more to life. With Gav and his neverending quests, Ry’s perpetual sexual hunger, and with Vas to egg him on, that won’t stop anytime this century. With my old age, I’m betting if any of us can find out if there’s more to life, it would be you.” Simeon laughed as Michael slapped his shoulder and stood up. “But if you will excuse me, bro,” he continued with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, “I do believe I see Lea stepping up to the plate to show these amateurs how a real pole dance ought to be done.” Simeon felt his eyebrows rise in surprise and he swiveled around in his chair to watch the short blonde bob of Lea’s hair make her way through the crowd and up onto the stage. With her black band barely holding her breasts in place and just covering her nipples she somehow managed to look sweet and innocent at the same time as looking sultry and sexual. A tiny pleated skirt completed her ensemble, and the entire crowd roared as she started swinging her body around the pole as if she had been doing it all of her barely legal life. Simeon smiled, but still felt no sexual stirring. He finished his own drink and made his way to the back of the pub. He would certainly watch Lea’s routine, but then he would head on back to his lodgings. He wanted to think over what Michael had said and then maybe do a bit of soul searching. Something definitely seemed up inside him, and he wanted to work out the best way to tackle it. Somehow, he knew having raunchy or even kinky sex would not solve his problems, however. He had the uneasy sensation his sexual detachment ran deeper than that. When a hazy memory from his recent erotic dreams reentered his mind, Simeon groaned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had worn a public erection, but if he let his mind travel down the road it had just flirted with, he would be soon. Simeon could never manage to see the woman’s face as her back was always to him. She had a mass of blonde-brown curls tied neatly back in a bun. For the zillionth time his fingers itched to reach out and touch the soft-looking strands, but he knew if he reached for her she would disappear. She always did. Besides, from his dreams over the last few nights he knew exactly what she was about to do anyway.

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Her ass was voluptuous, but not enormous. His dream-fantasy woman wiggled it for him, inciting a deep lust in his groin no one else he came across could even hope to inspire. Simeon winced as the mere memory of this fantasy lady had his shaft hardening to steel-ore in the span of a second. His mystery, dream lady reached a hand up and slowly removed the pins holding her bun together. Simeon felt his mouth dry as the vision only he could see enticed him and beckoned, more strongly than the sirens of old. He could imagine reaching out to her, pulling her to him, spreading her lusciously long legs and penetrating her with one fierce, desperately hungry thrust. But he knew the instant he did reach out she would shimmer and disappear. That was how the last three nights had ended for him. True, he had been alone in his study doing reading and relaxing the previous nights she had come to visit him, but tonight he hoped he could see her now, and again in his dreams later in the night. Simeon watched enthralled as blonde-brown curls slowly fell to mid-back length, running riot and creating havoc with his sexual drive. Needing to feed more than his next breath, Simeon drank in the lust and emotion of the crowd. The energy in the room pumped around him like the beat of music, but it was the lust this fantasy woman inspired in him that drove his frenzy, not Lea’s sexy little body grinding against the pole like anyone who looked at him would assume. Simeon could feel the heady pull of the others’ emotions, but more importantly he felt his own twisted, sexual thrill from a dirty dream he simply could not get out of his head no matter how many times he reminded himself this was fantasy and not reality. He had no idea who his fantasy woman was. From the well-outdated suit jacket and skirt she wore he had the strongest feeling she was pure imagination, and nowhere near real. Yet he would happily give anything in the entire galaxy to have this woman in front of him now, kneeling before him and taking his heat into her mouth, embracing him in the most intimate and trusting of ways. He groaned softly, just the faintest thought of it having his cock weeping with frustrated need and desire. Instead of trying to force his dream woman to help slake his lust, Simeon instead focused on where his sudden interest in ancient power-suit clothing the buxom women wore had come from. Maybe he had watched one too many twenty-first-century vid flicks? As Lea wrapped up her dance, the crowd nearly deafened him with their approval. The ear-splitting roar made his fantasy woman disappear, and so Simeon slowly slipped out into the brisk evening. Enjoying the slow and short walk back to his lodgings, he turned his mind over his dilemma. It would be ridiculous in the extreme to try and research the ancient clothing, yet the woman pricked his mind. He couldn’t search for her, as he had never seen her face, only the back of her head and body, and a teasing glimpse of full, round breasts. Breasts he wanted to suck more than he wanted to feed ever, ever again. 9

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Something told him it would be another excruciatingly long night. He was losing his mind over a dream woman. Oh, how his twin would laugh to know.

***** Present day Middle America Clare looked at the clock for what must have been the hundredth time in the last hour. With only ninety minutes left until the university library closed, she wondered how she could bear more shelving of books or answering harassed college students’ essay queries. She glanced down at the cheesy Victorian bodice ripper she had been about to shelve. She opened it up to a random page, just for the hell of it. Franchescha gasped in mingled shock and desire as she heard the delicate silk of her ruinously expensive evening gown torn into shreds. Her eyes widened as she watched the ragged strips of fabric flutter to rest on the floor. Harold, the ever unrepentant rogue, grinned devilishly down at her, and she felt the resultant heated flush flow down her body, pooling as melted, flaming honey in her nether regions. “Now you are mine,” he said commandingly. Franchescha gasped again as he roughly pushed her down onto the soft divan. She glanced down to the throbbing arrow of love she had craved all throughout the reckless masquerade they had both attended earlier in the evening. Harold’s throbbing red staff bobbed in front of her, burgeoning in its need, a mottled redpurple color and imposingly, threateningly erect. Clare suppressed her giggles and slammed the book shut before a poor student could come wandering around looking for her and catch her reading the tasteless, oldfashioned, erotic thriller. Placing the paperback on its proper position on the shelf, she headed back out to the end of the aisle where she had left the rickety, old wooden trolley, which must have been carrying books to shelve for at least the last fifty years. Ding, ding, ding. Clare looked up as the reception desk bell sounded with what seemed, from the still echoing noise, as a lot of force. She frowned, wondered what was going on. As she stepped to the side and got a clear view of who stood at the desk, she groaned softly. The fleeting, childish impulse to duck back between the shelves and cover her eyes to hide like a kid ran through her so strongly Clare found herself turned in the direction of the shelves before she could stop herself.

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Come on, Clare, she chided herself, at least the jerk has stopped trying to corner you after working hours. “Ah! Clare…I mean, Miss Rooney,” the man called out and began to stride toward her with the firmness of a man who held purpose. Clare sighed to herself. Resistance is futile, she silently, sardonically acknowledged. Feeling as if she deserved an Oscar for not showing her mingled disgust and resignation, Clare held a politely interested smile on her face. “I have something of a somewhat serious nature to discuss with you,” the man began as he came closer to her. He stood well within her circle of personal space, and Clare resisted the urge to step back. She sighed inwardly and concentrated on keeping her smile intact. While mentally running through any number of rude things to say to rid herself of Mr. Nathan Pawlsine, she instead forced herself not to cringe but appear interested in his concern of the day. If she were honest with herself it wasn’t just his pompous, overly arrogant turn of phrase that made her want to escape the man’s presence. Sad as it was to admit, she was becoming used to his penchant for speaking in such a dramatic and at times rather lurid manner. It was the oddly bright expression in the greasy man’s watery gray eyes that made her stomach churn and thin beads of sweat run down her back. Not for the first time since having the presence of Nathan Pawlsine foisted upon her, Clare wondered why the hell all the weirdoes had to focus on her. Clare bit down on her lip and pondered how she had managed to become some sort of lightning rod for idiotic and perverted men. She pushed the thought of all the idiot men she had been dating and then promptly dumping over the last few years, out of her mind as well. Comparing them and Nathan Pawlsine’s presence in her life would only depress her more. “We really should speak privately, Cl—I mean, Miss Rooney.” Clare straightened her pencil-slim navy suit skirt and the matching jacket. After the first time the lecherous older man had managed to corner her alone she had been scrupulously careful to never be caught unawares again. Since then, she also had always worn professional suits that covered everything, with nothing revealing or casual to give him a glimpse of her body. Checking quickly that no stray curls had fallen out of her tightly wound bun, she mentally prepared herself for battle. Nathan, she felt absolutely certain, had once been a handsome young man. But many years, and even more vices and indulgences, had turned him into an overweight, middle-aged man who still thought he retained his youthful handsomeness. Well used to his leering, searching glances over her more than ample curves, she managed not to shiver as his eyes lingered far longer than necessary on each bump on

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its way down. A few years ago Clare had finally given up the battle to be willow-slim, much as it had distressed her to let go of the fantasy, yet dirty old pervs like Nathan had her wishing she were anything other than an hourglass figure. The despicable man seemed to be able to take everything in at a glance and yet still linger far longer than polite. She managed not to shiver, but just barely, as his eyes raked all the way down her curves and then back up again until they finally rested on her face. Clare felt innately grateful that the slimy older man had no idea of the scanty, utterly feminine underwear she always enjoyed wearing underneath the boring navy suit. “I’m so sorry, Nathan,” she replied calmly. “You know private conversations on library time are strictly against regulations.” Clare did not betray the slightest hint of her relief at being able to truthfully utter those words. After the first and only time Nathan had cornered her alone in the back of her office at closing time, when the library had been deserted, Clare had requested clarification from her superiors about boundaries for the students and any other visitors to the library, and the offices were thankfully declared off-limits. “What seems to be the matter this time?” Clare forged ahead, hoping if she began, the cause of the conversation could be quickly and easily resolved. “I have well over a shift’s worth of shelving to catch up on before we close tonight.” Clare nodded to the three old-fashioned, wooden trolleys scattered around the shelves where the main shift supervisor had been stacking the paperback and hardcover textbook returns throughout the day. She watched as Nathan pulled himself to his full six-foot-two, and patted his impressive girth with an astonishing amount of self-importance. “I was searching through the shelves earlier this morning,” he said in what Clare found to be the most pompous tone his baritone voice could convey. Clare warily noticed the odd light of a man on a mission in his eyes, and again felt relief at having a number of students milling around within calling distance. “I was looking for maps to my old wartime stomping grounds, of course, from back in my more adventuresome days.” Clare merely nodded at Nathan, refusing to follow the bait and ask a further question until the actual issue had been explained. “That was when I found this!” he finished dramatically. With an almost theatrical flourish, Nathan pulled a very tattered and obviously well-thumbed paperback from the inner pocket of his jacket. Clare tried her hardest not to laugh aloud, but she felt certain from the rising red in Nathan’s face she hadn’t managed to completely hide her amusement at the situation. “This is not something to laugh at, Miss Rooney,” Nathan said, sounding much like her grandfather might have, even though this man was probably only twenty to twenty-five years older than her own twenty-nine years at best. “This is a most serious situation!” 12

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Clare struggled not to giggle, tried desperately to contain her amusement at the scene Nathan Pawlsine obviously wished to create. Instead of indulging in a fit of snickers, or even outright laughter, she managed through sheer force of will to concentrate on the back cover of the paperback. She felt her amusement creep up inside her chest again, a very faint flush heating her cheeks and causing the edges of her mouth to twitch in firmly suppressed laughter. Slowly, trying to take the situation seriously and not treat it like the comedy she felt it deserved, Clare reached out to snag the tattered paperback from Nathan’s outragefueled shaking grip. The front cover showed a clear picture of a busty woman in only a black leather thong and a brief black half-cup bra holding a riding crop in the air. It seemed fairly obvious to Clare, and anyone else picking up the paperback, that the woman was about to swat some poor person on the ass with the crop. Having a more than passing familiarity with this style of book, as she was frequently delegated the task of helping the first-year Victorian Literature students select titles for their essays and reviews, Clare’s trained eye noted the lack of more modern dominatrix gear. In fact, if it weren’t for the riding crop, the average passing eye might merely think this was a normal erotic paperback, instead of the kinky bondage book Clare knew it to be. The Secret Musing of a Mistress, the title proclaimed in deep red slashed across the cover. Not thinking Nathan Pawlsine would appreciate the knowledge that she had been searching for this title earlier in the afternoon for a student, Clare concentrated on the book, hoping not to let the giggles welling inside her escape. Clare knew this particular novel was one of the more favored literature choices of a certain professor. Its raunchy title, not to mention the decadent and almost naked buxom woman on the front cover, made it an instant hit with a large percentage of the male and, to a lesser extent, female students for their literature reviews. Clare tried hard to keep her face bland as she pretended to not understand what she felt certain was Nathan’s real issue with the book. “I take it the book was misshelved?” she said, pleased to hear the genuine-sounding contrition in her voice, “I am so sorry, we have a new casual member of staff who has been rostered on during the days, and maybe she got the numbers mixed up or something…” “That is not the point, Miss Rooney,” Nathan Pawlsine said heavily. Clare could see the blood rushing up to his face, causing his outrage and anger to seem even more forceful. “The fact that this university’s library—a decent, upstanding library I have been pleased and proud to be a member of for decades now—the knowledge that a library like this has…has…” “Erotica?” Clare said blandly, trying hard not to think of the shelf almost full of Victorian erotic literature over in the blue shelves, not to mention the half shelf of

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bodice rippers in the red section, as well as other period literature a number of the Arts and Literature subjects studied as texts on an almost weekly basis. “Smut,” Nathan said, looking over his shoulder, almost certainly livid he had to say such a word aloud in public. “Nathan,” Clare said, suddenly tired of the entire conversation, “there are two or three subjects many students undertake focused purely on this form of literature alone that are run through the university. Not to mention we’re in the twenty-first century and most major bookstores carry these forms of Victorian literature, and those that don’t regularly stock it can easily bring it in. It would be remiss of us to not carry it, particularly as the students need to borrow the texts frequently for reviews and study tutorials.” “But—” Clare cut him off, not wanting to prolong the argument. “If you have an issue with it, I suggest you write a letter to the university board, but I must warn you, I don’t think it will help you much. The Victorian Literature classes are particularly well attended, with a high pass rate, and thus bring in a fair amount of money from fees and such like. Add on to that the students as a general rule actually enjoy these classes and the depth of scope it gives them. I honestly don’t think anything will change from your complaint.” Clare turned and picked up a pile of books at random from the nearby wooden cart. “Now, I’m sorry, but I really have to shelve these books before the library closes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathan.” Clare turned and stalked away from Nathan, uncaring of his spluttering behind her. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when he didn’t follow her and she turned down an aisle at random. Clare sat down on a stool, placed the books on the floor beside her, and dropped her head into her hand. What the hell was she doing here? Putting up with idiots like Nathan? Sometimes she really wondered why she even bothered with her job. The pay sucked, the other staff treated her like a leper because she genuinely appreciated odd styles of literature, and even after seven years in the job, always tried to instill a similar tolerance and appreciation in each new batch of students. She worked like a dog and was always left with the crummy shifts, usually alone, and Clare felt certain the majority of the minor tasks like shelving and such were purposefully just left for her to deal with. Clare felt a wave of despair wash over her. She had no close friends, certainly no man in her life who could heroically rescue her. Loneliness came crashing down on top of her despair, depressing her spirits even more. Clare closed her eyes tight, trying to squeeze the imminent tears away. She hated to cry, hated it more than almost anything else and she certainly would not indulge here and now where some poor student might have the misfortune to catch her.

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And then she saw him again behind her closed lids. Tall, handsome and dark. Her fantasy man. His hair just brushed his shoulders, dark, dark brown and so soft she ached to run her hands through the strands. She couldn’t see his face clearly, she never could, and the frustration had grown old over the months he had randomly been invading her dreams, mind and thoughts. Even though she could never see his face in the shadows, she could sometimes see his eyes. So dark and chocolate brown she could drown in them forever. She recalled her dream last night and felt a spring of dampness in the crotch of her purple teddy. He had gone down on her, with those dark brown eyes watching her every movement. His eyes had shone when she climaxed, and she had reached for him, desperate to see his face, to kiss his lips and taste him on her mouth. The scene had shifted suddenly, as dreams were wont to do, and she had been on all fours, with him inside her, thrusting hard, fiercely, plunging inside her until she felt her arms and legs shake with the force of her impending climax. He had been rough, but so careful of her at the same time, he had stroked her skin, not grabbed it hard, he had thrust with force, but never enough to make her feel as if she would split in two. Clare heard her breath begin to pant as she so vividly recalled her fantasy lover taking her the night before, and she moaned softly, closing her eyes and wishing she were anywhere but in the middle of the library with a ton of work and more than a dozen students who could need her help any moment. Her fantasy man slid back into his shadows, but for the first time ever she saw him smile. His whole face except for the lips and chin were in the dark once again, but warm, full lips were smiling at her. Clare instinctively smiled in response and felt her heart accelerate. The reaction was girlish and stupid, she fully acknowledged, but it was a secret she could hold close, no one else ever needed to know she loved a fantasy man. Slowly reality returned and the fantasy faded away. Just that memory, just that smile from her fantasy man had managed to cheer her up. As always happened, when her bad mood had passed she could once again see the positives again. Her pay might suck, but she could cover her rent and bills. Even the odd indulgence in books was covered if she were careful. And finally, Clare recalled the expression on a young woman’s face when she would finally understand a reference section, or how to use the indexes. Clare did love her job, loved the joy of sharing knowledge with someone else, loved doing research of rare books on library time and helping other students. Sure, she felt alone and depressed sometimes, but she did enjoy her life. She just wanted…more. More of what, she didn’t know, but Clare stood up again, determined to shelve the remaining books before closing time.

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Thinking fondly of the vibrator sitting in her bedside table, Clare grinned wickedly. At least she knew one way she could release some tension later when she got home. She could light some candles. A hot bath, a hotter book and her new waterproof vibrator would certainly dispel whatever remained of her frustrations with how her life seemed to be heading nowhere fast. Clare began to hum a tune under her breath as she returned to work.

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Heated Fantasies

Chapter One A few days later Middle America

Clare hummed to herself as she shelved paperbacks. She had called out the fifteenminute warning to the few straggling students and wanted to get just a few more returns shelved away before she began to lock up for the evening. Smiling to herself as she placed Naughty Nancy’s Nighttime Tales in its spot, and then The Rise and Fall of Internal Medeci Politics, Clare had a small skip in her step as she returned to the almost empty wooden shelving cart. One large, navy blue tome remained, alone on the cart. Clare felt a huge grin cross her face as she let that wash of pride in having completed a good evening’s work flow over her. Hefting the large, old tome in her hands, she automatically checked the markings on it. Odd, she thought to herself frowning slightly, there’s no call number on it. Opening the heavy hardback flap, Clare looked for the tiny pencil marks, which should explain its exact positioning within the library. She frowned when she realized there were no markings anywhere that she could find inside the book. Her frown deepening, Clare turned the first few pages to reach the cover page. The Ancient Civilization of the Early Vampires, the page read. Clare felt a strange warm shiver run through her body. Her vivid imagination, always up for a good time, tried to convince her that she could feel magic, old and sparkling with electricity, running through the heavy navy tome. Extremely curious about the old tome, Clare looked around and dragged one of the stepstools she and other librarians used to reach the top shelves, into the middle of the aisle. Sitting gingerly on it, she straightened her pencil-slim skirt and, with her knees pressed together so as to not flash the crotch of her leopard-print teddy, rested the heavy hardback book on her lap. She couldn’t really understand her interest in the odd book. It seemed to call out to her, her fingers positively itched to open it and start reading. Unable to resist the electric attraction she felt for the tome, a small part of her could not bear the thought of simply placing it on the head librarian’s desk for reassessment. Clare deeply felt as if something connected her with this tome, something she could not bear to ignore. She certainly felt startled by how strong a pull this particular tome seemed to have on her, but she simply couldn’t deny herself.

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Clare opened the book once again and let her eyes roam slowly over the intricate calligraphy. Someone had spent days, maybe months, handwriting many of the pages. The cover page, title page and introduction were all lovingly produced. Clare could practically feel the adoration and sense of purpose in the time and effort that had been placed in this work. When she continued past the introduction and into the actual book itself, almost straight away she felt herself fall into the seductive, sensual world of the vampire. Instead of reading each word slowly and carefully, savoring it as she wanted to, Clare let her eyes skim over the information, taking in only a small amount of the full effect, but reading it enough to understand the gist of what the book imparted. For the life of her, Clare couldn’t work out if the tome was a piece of fiction, a science-fiction encyclopedia, or some rare, ancient text. The wording made the book seem very textbook-like, but nowadays that still did not negate the fact it could be exceedingly expensive, well thought-out fiction. Clare knew from the legion of sci-fi fans the university held that simply because the tome took itself seriously didn’t mean it wasn’t the highly prized product of some ingenious person’s rampant imagination. Clare let her eyes roam over sections of the tome, flipping randomly to pages. She felt her breath catch as she found a picture plate, the careful, loving detail and eroticism of the image unmistakable. A vampire with dark, dark brown hair cradled a woman to him, placing her practically in his lap. The heading and description of the picture told her that vampires were highly sexual creatures, feeding from the emotions of their lovers. In very rare cases, the text explained, a vampire might possibly become drunk on their partner’s highs. The sheer eroticism, the need and cravings pouring through Clare’s body, had her wishing for a moment she could strip to just her teddy and indulge herself in some rather heated fantasies that currently played through her mind. Clearing her throat, recalling where she was, Clare reluctantly turned the page. As she skimmed more and more of the text, however, the picture, and the few other even more raunchy pictures she found sparsely scattered through the tome, had her throat drying and her imagination scurrying into overdrive. Faintly embarrassed, Clare could smell the distinct scent of her own musk. She knew beyond a doubt her teddy would be flooded with her cream, the pictures and her imagination conjuring more and more delectable scenarios she wouldn’t mind indulging in at all with these mythical vampires. Attempting to get her raging hormones and body back under control, Clare flipped carefully back to the title page. She was exceedingly curious about the book’s origins and hoped to discover some information from the printing details, or the publisher, or even the year the book was made.

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The sheet usually reserved for the printing date and details would go a long way to proving to her ever-expanding imagination that either this was a work of fiction, or the oddest mythological book she had ever encountered. Frowning, she saw that particular page had been very carefully, with a studious and deliberate precision, been torn away, and so she couldn’t even use that data to verify the tome. Clare closed the tome, balanced it on her knees and tried to think as she unconsciously straightened the jacket and skirt of her suit. The heavy, hardback book had an old feel and look to it. Even though it wasn’t hard at all to give a book an aged look nowadays, the librarian instinct inside Clare truly felt as though the tome was old. Something about the book itself resonated age and a weighty seriousness. Dark navy blue bindings, with tiny gilt edges of gold made it indeed appear like an old mythology text. A large letter “O” was engraved into the front cover in an old, elegant cursive style. No expense had been spared on the tome, the gilt appeared to be ornate and very expensive. The whole tome felt aristocratic to her, as if it should be in an old-style library sitting on a mahogany bookshelf, or maybe in some rich man’s private library. Shaking her head, Clare flipped the book back open and from the contents page turned to thirty-six for the “Origins of the Species commonly referred to as ‘Vampire’”. Skimming the text, Clare realized the tome decreed that vampires were descendants of an entirely different race, originally from the intergalactic planet of Owanus. Even though vampires were humanoid in appearance, there the similarities ended. The author proclaimed vampires were not susceptible to human diseases, nor were they affected permanently by modern weapons, not that “modern weapons” had been described in any detail. Clare spent a moment staring into space wondering if the weapons were the old swords and bayonets, or guns or whatnot. She then smiled to herself. Vampires don’t exist, silly! Of course the style of weapon is not described. Even though her always logical mind reminded her of this simple fact, Clare could feel her more romantic and imaginative side struggling to agree so blindly and faithfully. Vampires might not exist in this reality, her imagination teased her, but what about other realities? Clare reread the last few words and the word “intergalactic” caught her eye. That made her imagination fly on to time travel and spaceships cruising the universe searching for other planets and life. Clare laughed at herself and the vividness of her mind. She admitted she had never really understood the science behind time travel, nor the potential for dimensional travel. But neither had she really given the theories she had heard much credence either.

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Even so, the more stubborn streak inside her would not let go of some of her musings. Why would so many stories be written about time travel, forward and backward, dimensional travel and all those other particular subjects if no one in their hearts truly believed it at all possible? Shaking her head, trying to dislodge the utterly illogical argument brewing inside her, Clare turned back to the text. Flipping through the pages, she smiled as she found that apparently vampires also healed at an astonishing rate. The author had then gone into a fairly graphic explanation, steeped in scientific terms Clare couldn’t recognize very easily, but from her general knowledge she gathered it was from a fundamental difference in vampires’ differences in their genetic makeup. Clare frowned then. It had only been since the mid-1990s that genetics had really taken off. The mention of genetic makeup had her heart sinking. She hadn’t even realized just how excited she had become about the text until reality hit her in the face with proof this wasn’t some ancient vampiric encyclopedia after all. Just when Clare felt depressed over having to write the book off as some overblown and exceedingly well-funded science-fiction novel, she found her eyes being caught by the next paragraph. The author wrote how vampires went into “heat” only roughly once every thousand moon cycles or so. The author explained how it was only during this time they were fertile and able to reproduce. More astonishing was the author’s take on how only a few women across the entire galaxy were “compatible”, fertility-wise, with any given vampire. It claimed that while technically a vampire could have sex with any woman of any race or species—Clare felt her eyes widen with shock at the hint of other humanoid species existing—that only a tiny number of women could bear a vampire’s child. For millennia, vampires have known that their Soul’s Circle could only be completed with that one special woman. And yet This Author hesitates to print their hypothesis simply because it has always been believed to be so. The most commonly referred to factor when finding that Special One is the fact that the vampire cannot penetrate his mate’s mind. I am not the first Author to comment on this interesting twist or quirk of fate, yet there are a few men and women I have met throughout my centuries of existence whose minds, for a variety of reasons, I have been unable to penetrate. More commonly held is the belief that only a true partner, the woman whose Soul can complete the vampire’s own half-circle, can bear children. Yet I, myself, have sired children from two women. And so I have come to the conclusion that while one can only have their Soul’s Circle merged once, for obvious reasons, when in heat, a few, small, scattered number of women (or men) can prove to be fertile for any given vampire. When the male comes into his vampire rutting heat, he could very likely spend the moon cycle doing nothing but moving from one woman to the next. Sooner or later, as I, myself, have

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found, a woman would be receptive to the man’s fertile seed. If they are compatible, either genetically or due to some other physiological bearing I do not know or understand, a child can be conceived in that small period of time. Understandably, due to the shortness of time any given vampire is in heat, and their disinclination to experiment and test the processes of what is occurring to them, this is merely my own, personal, working hypothesis. The fact I have sired children from two different women proves to some extent my theory, but there could be other factors involved I am unaware of. Clare felt her eyes almost pop out of their sockets with her shock. She had never heard anything like what this book spoke of, yet it resonated with something deep, deep inside herself. Sure, she had read plenty of cheesy vampire novels in her time, and even some notso-cheesy stuff. Yet never, ever had she come across a book which seemed to truly claim the existence of such beings. Even more astonishingly, the author wrote in such a familiar manner, as if he knew such creatures existed and the fact was common knowledge. Not to mention the author writing of how he had sired vampire children, thus meaning he must be one himself. Clare looked blankly at the shelf of books in front of her, desperately struggling for some sanity. This was no simple tome explaining how the species came to be, or a gathering of proofs such a breed existed. This tome seemed to be far more an explanation of the history of the vampires, a textbook almost, a reference for people—or vampires, her mind added—to refer to. Clare leaned back against the bookshelf and stared out into space. Somewhere deep inside her, the words written on the old page resonated with her, ringing true. The words, almost the meaning of the sentences strung together, echoed over and over inside her, and struck a chord deep within her soul. Much like most women, Clare had read her fair share of vampire romance, had sighed and dreamed and drooled over handsome heroes, either tortured by life and longevity or searching for their “one true love”. Yet something about this tome struck her on a different level within her soul than any other literature she had come across. A part of her normally exceedingly rational mind genuinely seemed to believe that this tome was truthful. Yet how could that be? To her vast knowledge, there wasn’t a planet named Owanus in the galaxy. And vampires certainly did not exist in this reality. Just as Clare bit her lip, desperately trying to decide what to do with the massive tome, her watch beeped its alarm at her. Glancing down, she saw it was five minutes until closing time, and she had to start clearing the tables of the last remaining students. Standing up, clasping the tome protectively to her chest, she left the sanctuary of the bookshelves and walked slowly into the main studying area. Even though the hour was fairly late and she had given the fifteen-minute warning, there still remained a half-dozen or so students, diligently studying. Clare smiled to

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herself. Only in the week before exams would such a thing be happening. On a more average evening the library would have been quiet from five in the evening, and practically dead from six. “Okay, everyone,” she called out in her best “I-mean-business” voice, “the library is now closing. If you wish to borrow books, please come over and check them out now. Otherwise, please pack up and head on out.” Clare walked behind the checkout desk and placed the vampire tome near her halfeaten chocolate bar in a little cubbyhole beneath the bench. There was the usual flurry of activity, stressed students rushing up to her, panic in their eyes, asking for texts of one form or another, asking what time the library would be opened tomorrow morning, and please miss, couldn’t they just borrow so-and-so’s last year exam paper for the night? Clare handled all the queries and checkouts with aplomb, well used to every situation. Finally, she followed the last student out and locked the door behind him. She slowly walked around the library, turning off the main lights, checking the windows and emergency exits were all locked and everything stood in its rightful place. After activating the security alarm and double-checking the computers had been turned off, she lit the night lamps for the security guards. One last check in the now half darkness and Clare was satisfied everything was as it should be for the early shift librarians tomorrow morning. Clare entered the small librarians’ office area, packed up her bag and logged herself out of her own computer. Turning off all but a few of the office lights, she cast her eyes over the library, mentally running through her checklist. As her eyes glanced across the main desk, the vampire tome peeked into her sight. She struggled internally for a moment then, with a sigh, gave up and walked over to the desk and picked up the heavy book. Biting down on her lip, she fought with herself internally for a full minute. There was no record whatsoever of the book either in the catalogues or on the index cards since it had no markings on it that she could find. She would obviously have to bring the tome back to work tomorrow, and talk to the head librarian about the odd book, but there was nothing in the rules prohibiting her taking the book home for the night to pore over and read at her leisure. Besides, she chided herself, it’s not as if you’re going to steal it or anything. You merely want to read it tonight and then return it tomorrow. Cursing herself for being stupid, Clare held the tome closer to her chest and headed toward the ornate double doors of University Library. Well used to the locking-the-door juggling routine, less than a few minutes later she was walking across the campus under the bright lights and heading toward the familiar shortcut to her small apartment through the parklands.

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Even in the modern day and age, Clare enjoyed the brief walk home. There were enough solitary runners, joggers with dogs, and lampposts to light the short walk to her place to make the ten minutes an enjoyable exercise. As she felt the gravel crunch underneath her feet, she smiled to herself as she saw a young couple entwined around each other, barely pausing for breath as they apparently tried to eat each other’s face off. Shaking her head, Clare remembered fondly her own antics during her university years, and easily shook off the pang at not having her own masculine hot-water bottle waiting for her at home in her large bed. Having been through a number of tumultuous relationships in her “wilder” years, Clare had decided to work on her career before finding that elusive connection she desired so strongly. Looking up into the dark sky, seeing the stars peep out through the clouds, Clare wondered if she should once again try to find that “special someone”. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about the tome and what it said about vampires and their Soul’s Circle. It sounded strangely similar to a few philosophies Clare had studied herself at the university, romantically believing the male and female soul had actually been split in half, or divided divinely, and so a perfect fit could remain with that special somebody. After believing a number of times to have found that “perfect fit” only to discover the man was in fact a toad, Clare had dispensed outwardly with her romantic notions. But honestly? What woman could truly say she had given up every and all hope for that perfect man to come across her path? As she walked along the park path on autopilot, she remembered the ancient philosophers had declared the soul itself was a circle. The gods had cut the circle in half, and every man and woman had been given half a soul, so when couples married, they fused their soul together. Clare felt her spirit wilt a little. Had some half-mad woman sat down and written a huge thesis on vampires based on this theory? Invented the whole thing? Clare sighed. How stupid could she be? Very nearly thirty and still trying vainly to believe in perfect matches and souls being able to be completed? She cursed herself silently under her breath. Surely she had given up all her romantic, nonsensical illusions back in her young adulthood? She furrowed her brow, annoyed, because obviously she hadn’t. Clare chewed her lip. Slinging her purse strap across her chest, she freed her hands so she could open the tome. As she came across another park bench, she sat down for a moment and flipped through to the title page again. Maybe she would recognize the author’s name? Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? Wanting to put the moment of truth off for just a few seconds more, she caressed the ornate “O” idly, enjoying the feeling of heated warmth the book gave her deep

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inside. She smiled as she thought she felt sparks, or a tingling sensation, as she ran her index finger over and over the elaborately carved “O”. She shook her head, laughed at herself and her overactive imagination as she flipped through the pages. She groaned to discover that there was no author mentioned, neither on the title sheet nor the cover page. Feeling frazzled and not really understanding why, Clare glanced through the first few pages in vain. Finally flipping to the end of the book, she looked to see if the author had signed off at the end. Nope. Nothing. Slamming the book shut, Clare looked up in an odd mixture of resentment and annoyance, and gasped. Her hands rested without thought back on the O, yet her mind whirled madly. Clare felt a strange sensation, unlike anything she had ever previously felt. She felt her hands tingle with warmth, but her feet felt cold. She could feel the breeze pick up, but it brought the oddest scent. It smelled of grass and flowers, but also a tangy, almost citrusy scent she could not put her finger on. She no longer seemed to be sitting in the same park she had been in mere minutes ago. She wondered if she had fallen from the bench and hit her head, or maybe her eyes were just playing tricks, as she hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Her stomach growled, but Clare wasn’t paying attention. She could feel her eyes widening with all she took in. The sky was a dusky, dark purple shade she had never seen before. The moon, she could swear, shone with a blue tinge, a pale, powdery, luminescent sheen. There appeared to be a smaller, greenish moon nearby, glowing just as brightly as a beacon. Instead of the scattered stars she had been admiring less than five minutes ago, now there were hundreds upon thousands of them, littered throughout the sky. Clare stood up from the bench slowly. She felt rocked, as if someone had pulled a rug from beneath her feet. Needing to clutch on to what she knew had to be real, she gripped one hand onto the shoulder strap of her purse, the other arm clutching the tome to her chest. Her mouth still agape, her mind not really able to process all it saw, Clare slowly turned around, her eyes scanning the area. She still thought she was in a park of sorts, yet there were small hills of grass that did not seem to be green. Lush vegetation grew in contained areas, enormous leafy green plants that looked gorgeous, but nevertheless managed to scare the shit out of Clare, for they were most certainly alien plants, unlike anything she had ever previously known. Small circular pathways cleared a designated walking space, yet the entire area to her view seemed deserted. She was either having the hallucination of a lifetime and would make millions writing about it when she woke up, or something very bizarre and well beyond her knowledge had just taken place.

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Clare heard her breaths coming faster as her panic grew. It was almost as if she had somehow been unceremoniously dropped into some weird-assed time and place, which seemed utterly and irrevocably alien! Clare tried hard to practice her deep breathing, anti-panic exercises, pulling air in down through her diaphragm, expanding her lungs and chest with the much-needed oxygen. She kept on repeating to herself that everything would be fine…just fine, otherwise she knew she would start freaking right out, and that would not help her one little bit. A few minutes of repeating this to herself, and filling her lungs over and over with heady oxygen, she finally felt her heartbeat begin to settle down somewhat. Clare let her eyes focus and tried once again to take in her new, alien surroundings. She could barely believe the sizes of the flowers—the smallest ones she could see were as big as her fist, and she was no petite little elfin woman. Clare craned her head to catch sight of enormous petals spread wide, large enough to encompass her whole head! She took a hesitant step forward. The flower was so large, and the scent drifting out of it seemed oddly like a mixture of jasmine and rose. It was decadent, beautiful. Clare didn’t want to resist the temptation to reach out and touch the petals, see if they were as silky smooth as they looked, yet some sort of inner warning was cautioning her to be careful. Leaning forward, breathing deeply in the intoxicatingly beautiful scent, Clare questioned her insane desire to get closer to the large flower. She cried out when she saw the enormous petals snap shut around a small, buzzing insect she had never seen before. The snap of the “petals” closing around the unsuspecting insect had her gulping and firmly resolving to trust her instincts on this odd planet. Clare carefully and slowly took a step backward. As the flower seemed to vibrate, her imagination, already in overdrive, suggested the flower was likely digesting the insect, and Clare continued to retreat until she stood back on the sandy path once more. Taking another deep breath, she turned around in a circle, taking in the odd atmosphere and trying to calm the frantic buzzing inside her head. The insane question of how the hell she could get home reverberated around and around in her mind, almost drowning out the millions of other questions vying for attention. Clare walked a small way up the sandy pathway, and then returned to where she had started. As she slowly walked, she took deep, steadying breaths, determined to calm herself and her madly scurrying brain. She silently thanked her years of self-enforced Tai Chi classes, and concentrated on her breathing fresh air into her diaphragm, helping simultaneously to slow down her racing heart as well as steady her nerves. Clare employed every single technique she had learned over the years, the ironhard control she always privately prided herself on never seeming as difficult as now to capture and restore to her body.

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Slowly but surely, she felt her strength and control returning, seeping back into her body, relaxing her as it gave her back a sense of strength and purpose. To help herself further, she mentally began to make a list. Lists always help, she reminded herself. Firstly, she had to be brave and head toward the lights she could see outside the small parklands area she seemed to be inside. Obviously, she needed to find out where the hell she was. Once she had discovered her whereabouts, then she could concentrate on how the hell she could get back home. Clare nodded, feeling alone and scared but determined to not drop her armful of her handbag and tome, or turn into some weak, freaking-out crybaby. Sadly, she looked at the park bench carefully, tried to memorize its details in case it became important later on. She took note of the large, blue-greenish-colored flower she had come close to being eaten by, and a few of the more gnarled and oddly shaped trees. When she felt vaguely confident she knew the area she had “arrived” in, she took another look around the parkland and tried to decide on the direction she wanted to take. She swallowed hard, straightened her back arrogantly and armed her mind with only steely determination. She would not crumble and turn into some hysterically screaming idiot. Clare was not a woman Too Stupid To Live, but a few moments of panic when discovering one was in a totally alien world was perfectly sensible. Not dealing with the fact and trying to get over it, however, was ridiculous. She would take this calmly and in stride. It could be a hell of a lot worse, she insisted. Oh yeah? the sarcastic part of her mind interjected. What the hell could be worse than this? Clare smiled sardonically. I could be stuck here with Nathan Pawlsine, she informed herself. Strangely enough, the other part of her remained quiet, acknowledging the hit. Although a part of her was completely, helplessly terrified, as she doubted she knew a soul here, the thought of being stuck on some remote, alien place with that creepy man was far more disturbing than being stranded here, effectively alone. The insane urge she had been squashing since she arrived, the urge to scream out for help and curl into a ball somewhere and hide, dimmed as she smiled at herself. Really, it can’t possibly be that bad. She took a deep, cleansing breath and closed her eyes. Turning around in a circle two or three times, she stopped randomly, let the faint sense of dizziness pass, and opened her eyes. With her new direction chosen, she took a firm step down the way she had picked. With each passing step, she felt her confidence grow and grow. She walked slowly, wanting to get a “feel” for where she was going. Her instincts told her she had picked

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correctly, even if it had been utterly random, and she had confidence in herself she trod in what she increasingly felt would become the right direction. A dozen paces down the sandy track she felt her heart nearly explode from her chest in fright as the shadow of a large man stepped out between two of the trees she had been heading toward.

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Chapter Two Considering how scared, out of place, and totally disorientated she was, Clare felt incredibly proud of the fact that she didn’t scream, though she did softly whimper in the back of her throat. The man’s smile was friendly, yet Clare reminded herself that even the most crazed ax-murderers probably smiled this nicely at their victims in the beginning. Were there ax-murderers wherever she was? Of course there are, you ninny, came the scathing mental reply. The fact she seemed to be having an internal conversation with herself momentarily worried her more than everything else. Was she totally losing her grip on reality? Clare bit down on her lip in thought. Nah, surely the fact she was worried about going crazy meant she was still fairly sane? At least for now. “Ah, there you are.” The strange man greeted her in a cheerful voice that startled her even more. He stood there on the edge of the park’s pathway, his hands still and open, resting non-confrontationally beside his thighs. He simply stood there, a kind, understanding expression in his dark brown eyes. Clare hesitated a moment. What on earth did he mean, “here she was”? She had absolutely no freaking idea where she was, so how could someone, anyone, be expecting her? She looked the man over more carefully. Could ax-murderers possibly sense their victims? Or some other freakily nightmarish thing here in this world? As she slowly looked this odd man up and down, she realized she felt no menace emanating from him. Indeed, the more she looked at him, and tried to get a grasp on him, the more she felt the odd man was being very, very careful to be charming and not frighten her at all. She still felt wary, slightly disjointed. She couldn’t truthfully say she felt afraid of this man, as she could honestly sense no hidden intent in him at all, yet she had no idea what to do or say. Clare held the tome to her chest even more tightly and buried her hand in her purse, an instinctive reaction to the unknown situation. As soon as she felt her fingers curl around the familiar cylinder of mace, she let herself relax and regard the man. She didn’t care if she had somehow been transported to some exotic, purple-skied planet. Mace was mace, and it still should give her a moment or two to run if she needed it.

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Dammit, even if the mace itself had no effect on this man or any other that scared the bejesus out of her, the cylinder itself was a fairly hefty metal object and would hurt like a bitch if she whacked him over the head with it. At nearly six-feet tall, and with an impressively muscled body beneath his black slacks and black shirt, she couldn’t help but understand how intimidating this man could be if he so chose to be. As she carefully looked his physique up and down, Clare felt her own lighter brown eyes drawn toward his dark chocolate-brown ones. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-thirties, but she didn’t want to set much store by her first impression—heaven knew how people aged or what cosmetic surgery was like in this world. His cropped dark brown hair had no sign of gray in it, and his roughly chiseled features had very few lines, so she had trouble believing he could be too old. She felt the tension in her body relax even more as she noticed the warm brown orbs twinkled merrily at her, and the wide, sexily dimpled grin on his face made him appear very relaxed and exceedingly friendly. Had she really lucked out so easily? Clare winced at the slight underlying cynicism in her mind. Since when had she been such a grouchpot, willing to question and doubt everything? Since you looked up from a book to discover the sky was an interesting shade of purple, Clare, her mind snarked. Meeting a nice person within five minutes of her life being turned utterly upside down seemed like a coincidence, but Clare tried hard to hold judgment for the moment on whether this was good or rotten luck. Clare felt startled to realize she had taken half a step toward the unknown man. She needed to trust something or someone, and her instinct told her this man was a sound bet. It was only a tiny step, but she knew it had shown the man she was willing to trust him for now. Her stepping toward him had caused him to hastily push what appeared to be a small notebook or something farther into his pocket, and for a moment it snagged her attention. She knew she had never seen the notebook before, but it drew her attention and curiosity for a moment. She shook herself, realized she had been staring near his groin. Clare blushed slightly—even though she hadn’t been staring at his crotch, she felt embarrassed he might have thought so. Instead of standing there in a strange silence, Clare decided to be friendly to the man. “I’m…uh…new around here,” she started hesitantly. Clare tried not to laugh, or cry, at the understatement of her words. “I don’t know you and don’t really know what you want,” she said, hoping to have him able to explain even some of what seemed to be going on.

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The man nodded and his smile broadened. The warm, friendly gesture had Clare relaxing even more. This strange man seemed genuinely pleasant and approachable and some of her nerves and hesitancy receded. “I am Gavreel Montague, but everyone calls me Gav,” the man started, “and I am exceedingly interested in that vampiric tome you have with you. Do you think we could go somewhere quiet and have a look at it, please?” Clare wrapped her arms around the heavy tome, letting the mace fall back into its place in her bag. She no longer truly believed she’d need it against this man, but his interest and knowledge about the book she held startled her a bit, but for the moment she had bigger worries on her mind. Where the hell was she supposed to take him? she wondered to herself. She seriously doubted if she continued along what was supposed to be her way home she would end up at her familiar little apartment. Feeling like a child in the playground, desperately holding on to her favorite doll, Clare tried to think and not concentrate on how her legs had started to tremble. She fiddled with the strap of her purse with one hand, still retaining her tight hold on the heavy tome. “I’m Clare,” she reciprocated the introduction politely. “Clare Rooney. And…” She paused for a moment, hating the catch in her voice. You will not cry, she repeated to herself fiercely, you will not cry. “I…I think I’m a little lost. Uh…” she trailed off, having no idea what to do or say. Pride had her not wanting to admit she had no “quiet place” to take Gavreel Montague to, even if she was willing to be alone with him and let him study the tome she held. She didn’t want to invite herself over to his house, she still had no solid reason whatsoever to disqualify the homicidal ax-murderer scenario, and yet she knew she would have to take a leap of faith sooner or later on someone. “How about we just sit here on this bench for a moment?” Gavreel replied softly. Clare felt relief wash through her at his words. That at least solved some of her problems. “I have something I really quite desperately need to look at inside your book,” he continued gently and without urgency, “and then we can talk about where you want to go.” “I want to go home,” she said quickly, blinking hard to fight away the tears that crowded there. Even though Clare had nothing and no one to really go home to, she desperately wanted to see her own paintings, wrap herself up in her own quilt and touch her own possessions. She felt her shoulders shudder as Gavreel came up to her and put a warm arm around her. She tensed for a moment, not knowing what he would do, but even so, she didn’t feel threatened by him. His touch was gentle, almost fatherly, and light, very light so as to not freak her out totally. 30

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Clare relaxed as she realized deep inside herself she didn’t feel scared of him. Instead, she just felt the soothing, calming presence of the only familiar face she had. For a brief moment she buried her face in his shoulder and let the few tears she couldn’t hold back fall onto his black shirt. Gathering all her strength and courage, she shook herself and wiped a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “You must think I’m the biggest idiot.” “Not at all, my dear,” Gav said softly. “I think you are incredibly brave, seeing as you’re lost in a strange world and all. Let me check this one thing in your tome and then I will take you to Alderic, an old friend of mine, and we’ll see if we can get you back home again.” Clare smiled, felt immeasurably better knowing this man, at least, and was on her side. She let him lead her back to the bench she had sat on—was it really only a few short minutes ago?—back at home, and she let him take the heavy old tome out of her hands. She couldn’t help but notice as he rested the tome on his lap, that his eyes had lightened, his smile happy and satisfied, his dimples creasing his cheeks in a kind of sexy, sweet manner. Clare smiled, recognizing and knowing the feeling of absolute obsession for knowledge and books that this man appeared to be genuinely showing her. Obviously Gav was also an avid researcher, just like herself. She felt herself relax in his presence, the deep-seated recognition calming her even more than his words and actions could have. She watched as Gav opened the book to the dedications page, peered over his shoulder as he softly read the words he had obviously been searching for. “To reach your heart’s desire One must travel far and wide. But then take the time to look inside— That’s where, for what you search, you will find. “Damned riddle mongers,” Gavreel cursed quietly under his breath. Clare looked at him, a faint smile on her lips. She, too, hated riddles, but the strength of Gav’s anger surprised her somewhat. She gloried for a moment in something other than her own problems to mull over. “I take it a riddle was not what you were expecting?” she said, trying carefully to hide her laughter at her new friend’s obvious frustration. When Gavreel looked up into her eyes and smiled wryly, she knew he had understood what she meant. “Bloody well annoys me, simply because I can read this and think it means one thing, but you can read it and think it means another. Riddles are utterly subjective according to whomever reads them.”

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Clare nodded, understanding. “Well, if you know who wrote this book, then you could probably make an educated guess as to what it means.” She smiled back at Gavreel when he gently handed the book back to her. She held it close to her chest, the one and only solid, real thing in this seemingly unreal world. Besides, she couldn’t help but hope the book and the bench might somehow be instrumental in her return. The bench itself looked different than the one back home, but its placement looked to be exactly the same. Clare sighed. She had no idea how she came to be here, so how the hell would she be able to get home? She pushed the worrying thought far from her mind, determined to try and stay positive. When Gav stood up, holding a hand out to her, she gathered all her courage. She stood, held the tome tightly with one arm, and took his outstretched hand with her other hand. They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts as he led her down one of the winding paths through the park, surprisingly, in the same direction she had earlier chosen to take. She continued to remind herself that she just needed to sit down comfortably for a few moments, just needed to keep on breathing deeply and calmly and everything would be perfectly fine. Clare rallied her spirits as they flagged upon leaving the park. She fiercely told herself to stop worrying, she could easily ask directions back to that particular park, even assuming Gav refused to bring her back. Besides, she had every intention of viewing this park again soon in the full daylight. Once she and Gavreel hit what she assumed to be the city streets, she felt her knees begin to wobble and her heart patter faster. Strange cars with no wheels moved around the streets in a dizzying manner. She couldn’t see exactly how they moved, but she much preferred the prick to her curiosity than the hysteria bubbling away just under the surface of her thoughts. Shop fronts seemed similar, yet somehow alien. There were a number of people wandering the streets in all sorts of strange fashions that had Clare gaping. Men and women walked in groups, talking and gesticulating madly while wearing what looked similar to an ankle-to-neck-length Lycra bodysuit. Even though Gav wore what appeared to be synthetic pants and a Lyrca-ish shirt, he at least looked to be dressed fairly normally. The bodysuits just weirded her out. How did one get into and out of them? From the brief glimpses Clare could catch as Gavreel led her down a confusing maze of streets, one after the other, she couldn’t tell if everyone seemed so large and muscled, or if the suits were just molded that way. As they made their way behind what looked vaguely like a bar, Clare smiled at the large, gaudy neon sign announcing the place as “Scooper’s Pub”. Clare felt her feet stop of their own volition. Three super-skinny women stood huddled around in a small circle together, smoking what appeared to be a dark, dark red cigarette.

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It wasn’t the cigarettes alone which had her stopping, but the fact their bodies were so scantily clad as to make even Clare blush for them. A thick band of differing colors seemed to magically stay up across all three of the women’s indecently large breasts, covering their nipples and pretty much nothing else. A black bow tie was loosely tied around each woman’s neck, and two of the three women wore ultra-micro short-shorts, while the third appeared to be in the shortest miniskirt Clare had ever seen. The pleats flared and only barely refrained from flashing the blonde’s ass each time she moved with her female friends. “Come on, Clare, you don’t want to offend the escorts,” Gav’s deep voice chided softly as he tugged on her arm. Clare resisted, too busy gawking. “Those women escort people wearing that?” she asked, incredulous. “Come on, Clare.” Clare tried to twist her head to look further at the astonishingly clad women. “They are likely at the pub as femservers,” Gav explained softly as he led her with a gentle hand on her arm, “but I can promise you, with those outfits, they are almost certain to double as escorts. Besides, Lea, the blonde in the skirt, is a friend of my sons’, and she at least is a decent woman.” Clare walked along, grumbling internally when the women were out of sight. She tried to digest what she had just seen. “Who on earth would want to be escorted by a woman dressed like that? Even if Lea is a nice woman,” Clare asked, still wanting to know more about the women as she and Gav turned another corner. “Ah,” Gav said, hastening his pace. Clare wondered for a moment if his pace had increased because he didn’t want her to see many more people, or if they had just entered a bad side of town. “Escorts are women of the night, umm…hired body tenderers.” “Oh,” Clare said, understanding dawning on her. She felt slightly sorry for the women suddenly. “Yeah, we have them too, but we don’t use such nice names for them. And what were they smoking?” Gav took one quick, penetrating look at her, making her smile. She suddenly felt like a naughty thirteen-year-old being caught by her parents smoking a cigarette. “I don’t intend to try it out…well,” she conceded ruefully, “not unless it’s really good and somehow magically not harmful to my little gray cells.” “Gray cells?” he asked quizzically. Clare sighed. “Don’t ask. The cigarettes?” Gav shrugged as he knocked what sounded like a prearranged staccato on an old wooden door. “It’s septron, an herbal concoction to dull pain and heighten the senses. Escorts use it commonly before a particularly big night out. I wouldn’t recommend you try it as you would have no tolerance whatsoever to it.”

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Clare smiled curiously. “No tolerance?” she repeated, her thirst for understanding, and insatiable curiosity aroused. “So what effect would it have?” As the door opened a crack, Clare could feel warmth escaping from the brightly lit interior. Gav turned to her and smiled with complete understanding. Clare felt her own face smile in return. On this level, this curious, knowledge-gathering level, they stood toe-to-toe in understanding and agreement. “It would either make you high, make you hear the tiniest of sounds and make the clothes feel too restricting on your body, et cetera,” Gavreel said seriously, “or it would knock you out, send you to sleep and it would work its way through your system in your dreams. They would be bizarre, so real and lifelike you would have trouble distinguishing between what truly occurred and what was pure fantasy.” Clare opened her mouth to ask yet another question, but Gav interrupted her first. “Trust me, my dear,” he cautioned and Clare paid attention, “neither of these occurrences would be particularly fun for you.” That said, and without another glance to her, he stepped in through the door. Clare thought for a moment about both ways her body might react to septron, and shrugged. She had to admit Gavreel was correct, neither reaction sounded particularly fun when put this way. So reluctantly she pushed the drug from her mind. Instead, she looked into the small, warmly heated lit entryway Gavreel had stepped through and hesitated a brief moment. She realized for the first time she was in a place she had no idea about, and had no real knowledge as to how she had arrived. She knew no one except Gav, and was about to follow said man, whom she hadn’t known for twenty minutes, through a door into heaven knew where. She frowned as the outrageousness of her situation hit her for the first time. Was she utterly out of her mind? Clare looked around her and then sighed in resignation. Truly, what choice did she have? Come on, she cheered to herself, tried to rally her flagging spirits. You’ve gone with your gut instinct this far—why not jump in with both feet? Clare snorted to herself, and took a deep breath. With more faith than courage, she stepped through the doorway and followed where Gavreel Montague had led.

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Chapter Three Clare walked into the hallway and saw Gavreel a dozen paces ahead, walking straight through the end of the hallway and into the open room beyond. As she slowly followed him, she took the time to look at her surroundings. Deep inside herself she knew she was procrastinating, putting off the moment she would have to establish the how—and more importantly, why—of what had just happened. Her stomach dipped when she acknowledged she would also have to find out where exactly she was, and how she could possibly return back home. She admitted to herself she was a little scared. She was also rather apprehensive about what would happen to her, but even so, she couldn’t deny her wonder at how oddly normal the house she found herself in appeared at first glance. Since everything else she had witnessed in the last ten or fifteen minutes had been almost alarmingly different from what she had always perceived as the norm, the fact this house seemed, for now at least, remarkably standard had a soothing effect on her frazzled nerves. The walls were painted a restful, clear blue and seemed to invite her to slow down and take her time. Not in any sort of hurry, Clare responded to the subconscious soothing and slowed her pace to almost a standstill. From the outside, the house had seemed small, skinny and almost like a one-room condo of some sort. Yet a number of doors were on either side of the narrow hallway, showing her the house would likely turn out to be much larger than it appeared to be from the outside. The hallway easily fit the width of her body, though admittedly she and Gav could not have walked down the hall side by side. What looked like charcoal sketches of winged, fanged people were dotted along the walls, drawing her avid curiosity and interest. Clare paused to glance at these sketches as she passed, wishing she could stay for hours and linger over them, study them. The second sketch she found had her hand reaching out of its own volition, wanting to remove the sketch and bring it down to her for closer inspection. A man stood in the picture, tall and proud, in a pair of pants, shaded in black. His wings were outstretched and also shaded a very heavy charcoal-black. Dark hair, yet not the pure black of his clothes and wings, fell around his face, framing him almost. The man’s eyes, also very darkly shaded, appeared to blaze from his face. Clare belatedly realized the man wore no shirt, his bare chest muscled and appearing almost to ripple as he stood there, straight and proud. His lips were curved

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in anger, or maybe defiance. Small fangs peeked through the lips, giving him the look of a demon, or maybe a newly fallen angel, angry and still defiant. Clare couldn’t really express what it was, but something about this man, this demon-angel man drew her, made her heart beat faster and yet simultaneously freeze. She had an unusual reaction to this man, not even fully understanding it herself. Finally giving in to her desire, she let her fingers gently run over the man’s face, his fangs. Relieved the charcoal, or whatever it was, didn’t smudge or affect the sketch at all, she let her index finger ever-so-lightly trace his outspread wings. The man appeared as if he had been surprised, caught unawares and was reflexively readying for battle. A wary man, she mused to herself whimsically, reacting instinctively and assuming he would always be kicked instead of helped or loved. Clare could feel her heart go out to this handsome man, as she could somewhat relate to the assumption everyone would rather hurt than help you. This wounded, aggressive man struck a chord deep inside her, similar though not as potent as her reaction to the ancient tome. The image of the winged man reached out to touch something she had never felt inside her chest. With an astounding feeling of regret, Clare moved on from that sketch, her gaze drifting back to it, wishing she could remove it from the wall and take it with her. Instead, she imprinted the picture of that man in her mind and moved on. The sketches seemed to be just that, sketches, not detailed paintings, and yet the simple, quick strokes of charcoal seemed to capture each person very clearly and well. Three more men and one woman were sketched and hung along the wall. None of the rest of them touched her as the first man had, yet all of them were interesting in their own way. Each person depicted appeared to be wearing differing styles of clothes, the woman and two of the men in what looked like jeans, but in completely different surroundings, from inner city to caught mid-flight in the open air. The third man wore boots, black pants and a leather-looking jacket. In fact, as she contemplated the pictures further, she realized she almost recognized the clothes these people wore. Not exactly, and it was honestly hard to tell with only the sketch instead of a photo or other more accurate representation. Yet the feel of the sketch was familiar and comfortable to her. “Clare?” Gav called out from the room at the end of the hallway. “Coming,” she replied as she turned away from the sketches and quickened her step to walk down the hall. She idly wished she knew the name of the color of paint on the walls, some sort of blended mixture halfway between midnight blue and turquoise green. It looked sensational, soothing and rejuvenating at the same time. Clare made a mental note to ask Gavreel, or the mysterious Alderic, later. As she came to the end of the hallway, the space opened up into a massive room. The entire area was warm and comforting. She hesitated to label it cozy as it wasn’t girly or cramped enough to really be called such, but it certainly felt like a sanctuary to

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Clare. She smiled as the thought of sanctuary entered her mind. It was something she hadn’t realized consciously, but she desperately needed it at this moment. Overstuffed chairs were spread in a half-circle in front of what appeared to be a fire. Clare hesitated to label the fire as such as it was a shadowy blue-green. Heat seemed to emanate from it, and it made the motions and sounds of a fire, but there was no wood burning, and no red tinge to the flames. Clare felt her curiosity stir, and purposely looked elsewhere around the room. The last thing she needed to do would be kneel in front of the fire and try to study it like a moron. Gavreel would think she had lost her marbles. A few paintings were hanging on the walls, along with a number of threedimensional photographs. As Clare turned slightly to view more of the enormous room, she saw a man who looked middle-aged hand a mug of something steaming to Gavreel and then pick up two more mugs, one in each hand. With shoulder-length straw-gold hair and a set of impressively dark blue eyes clearly seen though a pair of round, wire-rimmed spectacles, Clare wondered if men here were always so incredibly good-looking. Clare smiled warmly at the thought of a whole world full of handsome men. The man she assumed was Alderic nodded her toward a well-padded chair. She moved around to it and asked her first burning question. “Who are the men and women in those sketches in your hallway?” she inquired in what she hoped wouldn’t prove to be a rude way. “Ah,” the elder man adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly at her. “Those are a more modern rendition of the first ever vampires, my dear. I researched them quite thoroughly and to my expert knowledge they are the most accurate sketches anyone could hope to find.” Clare nodded as her mind attempted to digest this information. While Alderic had seemingly answered her question, it had only raised a dozen more inside her. Wanting to be comfortable as they talked, she dropped her purse beside the chair and carefully laid the old tome on the small reading table next to the mammoth seat. Gingerly sitting down in the dark orange-colored cushion, Clare involuntarily released a sigh at the softness of the padding. Tension in her arms, back and neck she hadn’t been aware of eased. Within seconds of her feeling the softness of the chair close around her in a bodyencompassing hug, all her worries and muscle strain drained away, released. “Wow,” she murmured under her breath as she gently flexed her body. All thoughts had flown from her mind and only the amazing feeling of light and suppleness was left to fill her brain. Clare happily swallowed everything else she wanted to babble about, merely wanting to enjoy this first moment of pure bliss. “So you like my comfort chair, do you, child?” she dimly heard. She felt fairly certain it was Alderic who asked her this, as she didn’t recognize the voice as Gavreel’s. Clare didn’t want to open her eyes, so she simply nodded. 37

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For a moment, she wished she were back home, curled up in her own favorite chair, a hot chocolate in one hand and a favorite book in the other. She imagined herself sitting in front of the heater, relaxed and feeling safe. Hoping against hope she had just had a strange dream, she opened her eyes, half convinced she would, in fact, be sitting in her small living room. Instead, she opened her eyes to see both Alderic and Gavreel looking at her, sipping from their mugs. Sighing, she looked down and saw her navy work suit and sagging pantyhose. She toed her pumps off and curled her legs underneath her. She took a careful sip from her drink, startled to find it sweet and tasty. She thought it somehow managed to taste hearty, as well as a brief flavor of spicy citrus all rolled into the one liquid. Shrugging, she continued to sip the drink for a few moments. She forced herself to not think and question what it was. It was warm, and tasted pleasant, so the rest could wait. When she was half finished, she stretched over so she could place the mug carefully on the table, and lifted the tome from where she had rested it, to place it in her lap. She studied it carefully without saying a word, enjoying the tranquil silence in the room. Thankfully, neither man had tried to fill the quiet, or intrude upon her few minutes of silence by asking questions. “Okay,” she started slowly. “I am afraid my tale doesn’t start with ‘Once upon a time’, it starts maybe half an hour ago. I work in a library, in what I believed was the only planet with living creatures, human or otherwise, on it. I don’t know if it means anything, but it was just after the turn of the twenty-first century and we called home Earth.” Clare looked up, wondered for a moment if she were boring them or letting her story ramble on unnecessarily. Both men, however, were sitting back, utterly relaxed and sipping from their mugs, watching her carefully. Gavreel smiled at her, while Alderic simply waited patiently for her to continue. “I was just shelving books, when I came across this tome. It doesn’t have any markings on it, and understandably curious, I opened it up to have a look through it.” Once more Clare paused, feeling slightly silly, and looked from one man to the other. They both seemed politely interested, neither looked as if they were about to jump up and drag her to a funny farm. She cleared her throat. “It appears to be some sort of book on vampires, their history and something akin to an encyclopedia about them. The Ancient Civilization of the Early Vampires,” she said with almost a smile in her voice. “I spent an age debating with myself whether it was fiction or something else. Anyway, it interested me and I decided to take it home with me to read through tonight.” She laughed dryly and rubbed the large “O” on the cover. “One minute I was looking through the book in the park, the next minute I noticed the sky was purple, there were two moons, one blue and one green of all things. The vegetation is huge and apparently carnivorous, and I am a long way from Kansas, Toto.”

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Clare shook her head as the pop culture reference mystified both men. Neither said anything, but both were savvy enough and looking curious enough to have realized they had missed the joke she had sarcastically made. “Anyway, that’s my story in a nutshell. I know it might be incredibly naïve and hopeful of me, but I am seriously counting on one or both of you knowing how to get me home, with or without the damn book.” Clare took a deep breath, realized she was edging closer to hysterical laughter, or maybe tears. She looked at both men, who were watching her with large, slightly sad eyes. She laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “I am assuming by your looks that neither of you have any ideas on how to get me home. I guess I won’t be curling up in bed and laughing myself silly tomorrow morning about the absurd dream I just had. And to think I’ve always been intrigued by the oddities of the universe.” The sad, almost pitying look in both Gavreel and Alderic’s eyes had Clare swallowing convulsively. She had a feeling she wouldn’t want to hear whatever it was they were about to tell her. Letting the tome sit in her lap, she bent over again and picked up her mug. The sweet, citrusy smell gave her a small measure of strength. Clare watched as Alderic and Gavreel looked carefully at each other. Tired and dispirited as she was, she could almost imagine the two men talking to each other telepathically, arguing who would tell her whatever they were worried about. Clare grinned into her mug at her imagination. Amusing, though, as it had been to daydream about telepathy back home, the thought that maybe people here in this strange new reality might be able to really do such things became an unsettling thought. Refusing to get upset or worry about it, since more panic could certainly help her in no way right here and now, Clare took another healthy slurp of her drink and decided to wait the two men out. After a moment Gavreel heaved a sigh, as if he really had lost some mental argument with his friend. Clare shivered slightly at the thought, nerves and panic creeping up the edges of her hard-won courage. “We truly don’t know how you arrived here. That vampire tome you have is the only one of its kind, and so incredibly rare, many, many vampires don’t even believe in its existence at all. That’s not even mentioning the fact that no vampire still living, to our knowledge, has personally read it.” Clare blinked in surprise. Gavreel was talking as if…as if he really believed in the existence of vampires! Obviously seeing her incredulous face, Gavreel flashed her a cheeky smile. “Oh yes,” he replied without her having even asked the question. “Vampires really do exist. We have been in this galaxy far longer than the humans, and most other mortal humanoid creatures. The immortals, on the other hand…” Gavreel trailed off as Clare felt her hands begin to shake and her eyebrows rise high on her forehead. She took a deep breath of air, and then another, forcing her mind and body to calm down. 39

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Information overload was something she could deal with, she just needed to put all her questions aside and think about it later. Instead, Clare focused on the actual words Gavreel had spoken, rather than their implied meaning. She reheard in her mind his claim “We have been in this galaxy…” She frowned. His words made him seem as if he thought he was a vampire. Clare shook the silly thought from her head. The man sitting not three feet away from her wasn’t some fanged monster, dressed dramatically in a cape with a score of willing virgins hanging from his arms begging to be bitten. Clare recalled the sketches in the hallway and Alderic’s explanation of them being the first vampires. She shook her head. Did she just have vampires on the brain? Or was this all really starting to look how she thought it might be? Taking another sip of her drink, fortifying herself and trying to still the imminent flow of questions, Clare forced her mind to concentrate as Gavreel continued. “Much of the information in the tome you have brought is widely known, our ancestry, our lifestyles and physiology are all well documented and fully understood by our race. Yet there is an almost-forgotten legend linked to the powers in the book. I won’t bore you tonight with an old man’s tales when it is far more likely you have a zillion things to ask and discover. Even so, I have a feeling you finding this book in your library, your curiosity about its contents and your subsequent, possibly unwilling, movement over here are all somehow linked.” Clare felt her mind overloading on the scant information he had already supplied. She opened her mouth, the question burning in her mind, but her heart not knowing if she wanted the answer. “And my home? Earth…” Once again Gavreel and Alderic looked at each other, seeming to talk between themselves without opening their mouths. “Oh come on,” she snapped, feeling annoyed, “if you can talk telepathically at least be reasonable and do it fast. If you’re just looking at each other then one of you answer my freaking question. I’m not some silly baby and I did ask, therefore I promise to not get too hysterical at the response.” Clare swallowed as she heard a hitch in her voice. She couldn’t swear she wouldn’t get hysterical at the answers they would give her, but since she had come so far without screaming and tearing out her hair, she had high hopes for the future. Or at least for the next ten minutes. “My apologies, Clare,” Alderic said carefully. “It was incredibly rude of Gav and myself to…uh…‘talk’ by means that excluded you. We were merely concerned that you might not like the responses we have to give you.” “Though personally,” Gavreel continued seamlessly, “I would prefer for you to settle into this galaxy and time a little more slowly, you obviously need your own

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questions answered.” His voice took her attention back from the dark blue eyes of Alderic. Clare watched in fascination as Gavreel appeared to flounder for a moment, searching for the right words. “Earth has not existed as a livable planet for well over a century.” Clare felt her mind reel with the simple, carefully stated words. She bit down on her lip, determined not to do something she would cringe about for months to come. The last thing she wanted to do was upset or offend the two lovely men—vampires, she corrected herself—who had taken her in. Clare, who had always loved stories, devoured academic journals for most of her life, finally found herself in the middle of the greatest story ever, and she couldn’t even begin to write a paper on it. How on earth could one do justice to the swirling mass of confusion, fear, excitement and curiosity tearing through her system right now? Words couldn’t even come close to conveying her feelings at this moment, which would make it utterly impossible for her to write anything about it. “Century?” she finally said softly, still in shock. “What year is it?” she asked breathlessly, scared and excited by the possibilities of the answer about to come. Once again Gavreel seemed to almost grimace. “It is the very end of the year twenty two hundred and five.” Clare nodded slowly, even though she could feel tears threatening behind her eyes. Instead of giving in to the incredible urge to cry and wail, she took the final sip of her drink and replaced the cup carefully on the small table. With wobbling legs, she pushed herself up out of the chair, uncaring of the tome sliding to the floor with a dull thud. She felt immeasurably pleased the jittering in her leg muscles wasn’t particularly visible, as she firmly believed showing weakness in front of anyone, let alone strangers who happened to be vampires in the last part of the year 2205, was a bad idea. “Well…” She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. She really didn’t want to sound like she was on the verge of tears. “I do believe I have enjoyed about as much of today as is possible.” She once again blinked back tears. She recognized with the stilted, almost arrogant turn her speech had taken that she was a whole lot more upset than she had known. “Now, Clare,” Gavreel said softly, rising and grasping one of her hands. She only vaguely noticed him bending down to place the heavy tome back on the chair she had risen from. She couldn’t even rustle up much concern for herself or the tome as he gently placed an arm around her shoulder, much as a father would. “There’s no need to leave. Alderic has plenty of room here. He and I are going to talk late into the night anyway, so there is no sense in you leaving us. How about you throw your care to us and at the very least spend the night here?” Clare frowned, not really caring about decorum or manners anymore. “Neither of you will need to bite me or anything before you sleep…or do whatever it is you do, will you?” She felt slightly foolish as Gavreel chuckled and looked back at 41

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his old friend. Alderic had also risen from his chair and closed the distance between the three of them. “I will search around the easier books and records, pull out some of my more basic vampiric references,” he said to Gav casually, his eyes resting sympathetically on Clare. “You might want to do a bit of catching up and studying, my dear,” he said to her. Clare nodded, understanding the wisdom of researching the bizarre futuristic world she found herself stuck in. “I can only imagine what nonsense your mind has been filled with,” Alderic continued on patiently, “particularly in regards to we vampires. Neither Gav nor I have needed blood since our last moon cycle of being in heat. Drinking from any orifice, let alone using our teeth to puncture skin, is just not done nowadays, so very passé.” Shockingly, Clare felt a giggle well up in her throat at the careless, almost Gallic manner Alderic said the last sentence. He even had the dismissive hand gesture down pat, yet there was no French in his very slight accent. “Now,” Gavreel said softly as Clare realized she had never before felt so incredibly tired in her entire life. Despite everything she felt insanely grateful she could just let herself relax and get some sleep here, without needing to leave and go anywhere else. She could begin to work everything out in the morning. “I can see you’re even more confused,” Gavreel continued gently. Clare nodded slightly as Gavreel hugged her close to his warmth and seemed to murmur soothing words softly to her. Clare simply wished the pounding behind her forehead would cease. She needed sleep badly. She allowed herself to be led back down the long hallway by Alderic. She smiled as Gavreel waved at her, resumed his seat and once more opened the heavy tome. “Now, my dear.” Clare turned back as Alderic spoke to her and opened one of the doors in the hallway. He touched a point near the doorframe and the room lit up instantly. “Just order the lights out when you are done, and sleep in tomorrow morning as long as you want.” Clare merely nodded as she looked around the room. The large bed was a pastel blue color, both soothing and fresh. A few boxes seemed to be scattered around, but she had no idea what they were or how they worked. She found herself simply staring around the room, dumbfounded and feeling more than a bit disoriented. Alderic seemed to realize how out of it she felt. He came back beside her and touched her shoulder soothingly. “The front parlor is an antique store with a specialty in ancient books. As you are a librarian, I am sure I can teach you how to work with me. Gav owns a half share, and he seemed more than happy to have you stick around in our illustrious company. Don’t let your head be full of worries tonight. Tomorrow you can start researching our galaxy and both Gav and I will be more than happy to answer any and all questions you have.”

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Clare smiled and felt a warm sense of gratefulness to the older man—vampire, she corrected herself. She smiled as his hand gently squeezed her shoulder in a friendly manner. Stepping up on tiptoes, she kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you, Alderic,” she said softly, feeling a dreamy peacefulness settle over her, “I do hope everything will seem much better tomorrow morning.” “It’s bound to, my dear,” he replied easily. “Now, this will be your room however long you will need it. Through here is the cleansing room…” Clare tried hard to pay attention as Alderic explained the newest technology in plumbing, but she nevertheless had a feeling when she woke up the following morning she wouldn’t remember everything she ought. Too tired to be bothered paying much attention, even though her curiosity was definitely interested, Clare merely smiled and zoned out for a moment. She resolved to search as many encyclopedias as possible first thing the following morning to catch up and try to comprehend the immensity of the world she now seemed thrust into. When Alderic appeared to be hitting his stride, excitedly explaining the newer steam mechanisms verses the old-fashioned water vaporizers, Clare knew she would not be able to stand on her feet and stay awake much longer. She pleaded exhaustion, and Alderic appeared abashed, smiling wryly. She could hardly believe the vampire was a gadgets junkie. Weren’t vampires supposed to be reclusive, technophobic, darkly brooding heroes? Not middle-aged technophiles who practically glowed with enthusiasm for what appeared to be the latest shower-steam chamber apparatus? Finally Alderic led her back to the bed and matching side table and Clare felt her whole body wilt as if her energy had literally been sucked dry. She had obviously been running on adrenaline and not too much else. Space and time travel certainly took everything out of a girl. Alderic surprised her by smiling and bowing in an innately elegant, courtly, oldworld manner, and with a good wish for pleasant dreams he turned and left. The door swooshed shut. Without any further thought, Clare stripped her wrinkled suit from her body, shed the pantyhose she detested and crawled, in her favorite leopard print teddy, into the huge bed. Before she could even begin to plot and plan and make mental lists, before she could even swear her head had hit the pillow, she had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Chapter Four

Three months later “Stop stressing, bro, you know what the old man is like! I bet you a ton of credits Gav just found some incredibly rare, musty old tome from the turn of the new millennium and has locked himself away somewhere to study it.” Simeon Montague ran a hand agitatedly though his hair. He tried hard not to glare at his younger twin brother, who seemed supremely unconcerned. While he and Rylan, to their own opinions, looked more like siblings instead of fraternal twins, Rylan often boasted he was the better looking of the two of them. With his shoulder-length, dark brown curls and naturally tanned skin, in contrast to Simeon’s dead straight, but still dark brown hair and only lightly tanned complexion, very few people would mix the two brothers up. Yet with identical dark brown eyes, and often eerily similar thoughts and mannerisms, more than one unknowing person had taken one twin for the other when they attempted such deception. Currently, however, Simeon was obviously agitated and concerned, whereas Rylan lay stretched out next to him on the wide couch in their lodgings, happily flicking through the latest holo-zine issue of Playmates from the Outer Beyond. His brother, Simeon knew without even needing to scan his mind, didn’t have a care in the world. He had no such concerns for their sire’s safety, even without any form of contact, telepathic or not, for over two months. “I really don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough…bro.” Simeon tried to inject as much muted frustration into his voice at his younger brother as possible, but somehow, as always, his sarcasm and worry barely affected his sibling. Simeon sighed. He knew his twin cared for him, their elder brother Michael, as well as their father, and he could feel the close bond between the two of them in particular any time he stretched his mind in Rylan’s direction. Yet Rylan always seemed so relaxed Michael often teased he was perpetually horizontal. Which was also frequently true. “You don’t think not having heard from him in nearly ten weeks is strange in the slightest?” Simeon tried to be logical to his twin. “Come on, Ry, even for Gav over two months is suspicious. And it’s obvious that his mind is shut off to us for some reason. What if he needs our help?” When Rylan looked up, their identical dark brown eyes met and Simeon could tell some of his worry had finally penetrated his younger sibling’s mind.

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“It’s not as if he can’t contact us, Si,” Rylan said comfortingly, lowering his holozine slightly. “I know he’s never been gone anywhere for so long without some form of contact, but honestly? I can’t see Gav in any kind of trouble, can you? The man is obsessed with rare books and knowledge. It’s not as if he’s out trying to fight battles, take over planets or laser beam the bad guys. The man is an academic, through and through.” Simeon snatched the holo-zine from Rylan’s lax hands and tossed it away from them both. He grinned as he maneuvered himself into a position where he could wrestle his brother to make him listen more closely and make his point hit home. “The old man might be an academic, but remember Tigmona?” Simeon returned as he waited for his twin to attempt retrieval of his precious holo-zine. “He only wanted to look at the excavations out there, and ended up in a Brukas jail cell for three weeks before he could reach us. How do we know wherever the five hells he’s traveled hasn’t got anti-telepathic screening in their cells just like the Brukonians did? Gav’s blockage of us might not be at all voluntary, and you know it!” “You know, big brother,” Rylan replied calmly, but Simeon could detect the glint in his twin’s eyes and kept his guard up. “With you around to fret like an old lady about our safety, none of us would dare get into serious strife.” Simeon, able to read his brother’s intent as if he had declared it aloud, gracefully ducked Rylan’s return attempt at a headlock. Without a pause for breath and hardly even needing to think about it, he had reversed his twin’s momentum and in the blink of an eye had him squirming under his own irreversible lock. “Now, little brother,” he said more cheerily, “you will listen to me. Gav knows I would worry about him, so if there were any way for him to contact me he would have. I think we should talk to Michael and go find Gav.” “Well, I think we should go down to Scooper’s Pub and you should ask that pretty little blonde escort, Lea, to do unspeakable acts upon your body instead. I bet if you got laid properly you wouldn’t be so uptight and such a nagging mother figure to the rest of us.” Simeon didn’t notice his hold slacken somewhat at the mention of the very pretty, but fairly young escort he had been casually flirting with at their local pub. Lea had indeed become one of the casual pole dancers after her almost perfect tryouts. Simeon admittedly felt more attracted to Lea’s decent and coherent conversation than her eye-catching cleavage and well-toned body, but a bit of casual flirting never hurt anyone. Even though he felt no real sexual pull for the young blonde, the thought of her doing unspeakable acts to his body did divert his mind somewhat. “Lea?” he questioned curiously, “But she’s supposedly only twenty-two! You do remember that we turned two hundred and thirty on our last birthday? I know you enjoy cradle snatching, but do you understand how young that seems to me? Goddess, she was asking me advice on which college she should apply to the other day!”

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Simeon grunted as Rylan broke his hold and tried to wrestle him. Simeon grimaced and acknowledged the point his brother had scored with distracting his mind, even for a few seconds. Young as he might find the delectable Lea, with her long legs, teensy pleated skirt and luscious blonde hair, the thought of her had moved his train of thought enough for his twin to attempt to gain the upper hand. With them both silently locked in their only semi-playful battle, Simeon refused to let his mind wander again. As hard as he was concentrating, he barely felt the floor hit him in the side, as they both fell from the couch and continued to roll on the thick carpet, still locked in their fight as they grappled with each other. As neither had their fangs bared, Simeon knew they weren’t taking this fight seriously, but rather just expending some energy. So engrossed were they both in their struggle, that neither heard the door to the room opening. If Rylan had noticed it, his awareness would have passed on instantly to Simeon as they were physically and mentally locked in their scuffle. So they both paused in their fight and were more than a bit shocked when a familiar voice echoed through the large room. “You know, watching the two of you try to wrestle was rather entertaining for the first fifty years or so of your lives, but it’s really getting old now, don’t you think?” Both Simeon and Rylan turned to look at Michael, neither relaxing their grip on the other. “Just because you’re getting to be an ancient relic at close to four hundred—” Michael interrupted Rylan with a scathing glance, “Three hundred and eighty-five, you insolent brat.” Simeon grinned as Rylan simply shrugged, at both the insult and the menacing tone of their brother’s voice. “I seem to recall the last time you tried to take on the two of us you ended up eating the dirt in the middle of the rec-park.” Simeon watched as Michael’s dark blue eyes flashed in remembrance. Agitated now, he ran a hand through his scruffy hair. Simeon, usually the peacemaker in the family, enjoyed the rare sight of the faintest flush of red on their elder brother’s cheekbones. “Why, you little whelp. I should let your brother thrash you alive. I simply heard an almighty thump from up here while I was trying to peruse the holo-news and decided to come in and see what monster was trying to eat you alive. Next time I won’t bother.” “Oh, we are both so very grateful for your attempt at rescue,” Rylan said blithely and with more than a hint of sarcasm, “but Si here seems to think Gav is in trouble.” Simeon looked inquiringly at his twin. There was no way Rylan would have mentioned his private worries unless he, too, held some concerns for their sire. Quickly, Simeon cast his glance back to Michael, wanting to gauge his initial reaction. He felt a

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trickle of relief as he saw Michael’s shoulders tense up and his flush of embarrassment quickly recede. His dark blue eyes, utterly unlike either of theirs or Gavreel’s, seemed clouded for a moment, troubled. “Gav hasn’t been in contact with either of you?” Michael said carefully. The complete lack of inflection in his voice spoke volumes to Simeon. Though the twins were especially close, both brothers loved their elder sibling and had a special bond with him as well. It didn’t take a rocket scientist for them to realize Michael also held concerns, and likely hadn’t heard from their father either. Simeon wrenched himself from his brother’s hold and stood up. He had the strongest urge to pace. He refused to label his feelings as fretting, but silently to himself he acknowledged he did have a tendency to worry like an old woman, particularly when the safety of his beloved family was at stake. What Rylan had stated was true, Gav was exceedingly unlikely to join in a war, or insurrection, and so the chance he had been killed on some remote, tiny planet was very slim. Neither was Gav likely to upset any galaxy governments, or be seen as stealing secrets. He had no affiliation with any of the more politically motivated governments, nothing anyone would declare classified as “dangerous”, yet Gav had a different set of rules and values. His curiosity and thirst for knowledge had virtually no limits. He would happily enter where any sane individual would fear to tread, all in the name of “gaining knowledge”. More than once Gav had found himself in a tight spot, and although as an exceedingly old and intelligent vampire, there were few individuals who would dare cross him, and he could more than defend himself, Simeon could count half a dozen times the three brothers had needed to come bail him out and rescue his ass over the last couple of centuries. Admittedly, half the time Gavreel had had no knowledge of the unrest or potential for trouble, but his sire was by no means above being surprised or caught in a bad moment. Simeon just knew it was highly unusual for Gav not to contact any of the brothers for more than a month, as he knew they would worry for him. When Rylan stood up to cross the room, re-pick up his holo-zine and settle himself back on the couch, Simeon sighed and replied to Michael’s inquiry. “No, Mike, Gav hasn’t been in touch with either of us. I was going to check with you next. You don’t think he might have left word with Vasili, do you?” Rylan snorted, a wicked glint in his dark brown eyes. He looked up and, catching Simeon’s eyes, mentally conveyed a perfectly clear image of Vasili puking his guts up in his own chambers along their private telepathic link. Simeon could tell it was a very recent occurrence his twin had witnessed, one which he had been ribbing their best friend mercilessly about for a few days now.

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Obviously Vasili had enjoyed himself more than Simeon had realized the other night at the Desperate and Dateless ball. While vampires physically were able to eat and drink, because they lived from the energy of strong emotions there was no need to indulge themselves in either form of sustenance. It did, however, give a wonderful, comforting sensation when one ate or drank a small amount to give that warm, heavy sensation in the stomach. But overindulgence of either or both food and drink had serious consequences roughly twenty-four hours afterwards—particularly the overconsumption of alcohol. The effects, depending on the level of overindulgence, could last for two or three days. The problem was, after a few glasses of almost any alcoholic substance, one got the very human buzz of happiness, carefree and inebriated judgment. If one wasn’t careful, or didn’t have close friends nearby to give a warning, one simply carried along, partying and drinking up a storm, and totally forgot all rational trains of thought. Rational thoughts, such as to stop drinking before one spent the rest of the week puking the entirety of one’s stomach up to get the alcohol out of your overtaxed system. “Vasili?” Rylan said aloud, nearly choking on his laughter, “I do believe he is still seriously hungover from having too fun a time at the Vamp D and D Ball.” Michael looked askance at Rylan. “You are a brilliant friend, Ry. I can see how sympathetic you are for his plight and how you must have bent over backwards attempting to help and console your supposed best friend.” Rylan merely shrugged. “I lost track of him rather early in the evening. Before I left he seemed rather buzzed, and I reminded him not to go too far. He certainly didn’t seem seriously inebriated or I’d have carted him home myself.” Simeon could hear the truth in his twin’s words and knew his brother wouldn’t have left their very good friend alone if he had thought he was overimbibing. “He insisted he was fine,” Rylan continued, “practically growled at me to stop treating him like a virgin on his first night on the town, and so I let him be. When I stopped over late the next morning he was just saying goodbye to a particularly lovely looking redhead. Twenty minutes later he began to puke his guts up and he threw me from the lodgings. He hasn’t been answering my comms since no matter what the provocation.” Simeon shrugged. He felt a large pang of pity for his good friend, but he himself had been dealing with a number of issues of his own. He had taken home two very appealing vampiresses, had indulged in an evening of sex unlike any other, and still not found the true comfort and satisfaction he had been searching for lately. He hadn’t wanted to share his troubles with his twin, or even Vasili, excellent friend that he was. Since Simeon himself couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was nagging him he didn’t want to worry his siblings or friend. Nor did he particularly relish the thought of their ribbing, either. He pushed the worry and thoughts he no longer wanted to mull over anymore from his head. He focused more on the tasks at hand. It certainly beat attempting to 48

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search his soul for the cause of his restlessness. Months hadn’t helped so it could wait at least a few more weeks while he searched for his father. “Well, it’s been nearly a week now—that’s how long it usually takes him to recover from the few binges I’ve been privy to,” Simeon replied briskly. “Should we check in with him? Or start this search for Gav ourselves?” he questioned, looking from Rylan to Michael. When Rylan also stood up, the brothers unconsciously all began to circle together, drawing strength from one another, and began to brainstorm to consider the situation more seriously. “So you don’t know where Gav was heading, Si?” Michael said carefully, “I just find it odd. I mean, the old man usually leaves word with you—he knows how much you fret over him.” Simeon rolled his eyes, amused and annoyed simultaneously. “Oh please! And like Gav doesn’t talk to you just as frequently.” Michael nodded his head curtly, acknowledging the truth of his words. “Well, you know he is usually out of communication when he goes on one of his hunts,” Michael continued logically. “You know what he’s like when he has some idea or is following a thread of something.” “For more than two months?” Simeon challenged, tilting his head at an angle. Michael raised his eyebrow and merely leaned casually against the wall. “He really hasn’t sent any messages or communicated along the family links to either of you? I thought he was pissy with me for the last rhetorical argument we had. I didn’t realize he’d blocked the entire family line.” When both brothers shook their heads, Michael took a deep breath and stood up straight. “Well then, I think we should get in touch with Vasili, just to be certain Gav hasn’t contacted him recently either. I can’t think why the old man would contact Vas and not one of us, but we would look like complete fools if he had left word with Vas and our dear friend has simply been too hungover to let us know. I don’t care how unlikely it is, that really should be our first port of call.” “What I want to know,” Rylan piped up, “is where should we look? It’s not as if we can traipse around the galaxy searching randomly for him.” Simeon blinked. Sure, he had been worried, and certainly he had wanted to knock some sense into his twin and ask Michael for his opinion. But he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to have a decent suggestion as to what they should do and where they should begin their search. “I’ll go comm Vas,” he said as the three of them merely looked blankly at one another. “I’ll see if he’s amongst the living again and whether Gav has left word with him. You guys hash out what we can do.”

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Heading out the door and down the corridor, Simeon smiled to himself. He had no idea what wild ideas his brothers would come up with, but between Rylan and Michael he knew it would almost certainly prove to be interesting.

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Chapter Five “This had better be bloody—oh, it’s you, Si. I thought you were Rylan, hassling me again. What’s up, mate?” Simeon schooled his features into what he hoped resembled his normal, merely casual interest. He had an awful time not howling with laughter. Vasili usually was an incredibly tidy man. His black hair, even when he rose from bed in the mornings, was always impeccably groomed, running in dark waves to his shoulders, each and every curl ruthlessly tamed and looking neat. Simeon couldn’t remember the last time Vas’ dark green eyes hadn’t held a twinkle of mischief in them. The man always seemed to be holding a joke inside him. Today, however, even though it was early afternoon, his good friend had obviously been roused from his bed by the comm, and his hair was a curly mess, strands frizzing out in every direction. The green eyes, although clear, seemed drawn and tired and not at all the usually happy color Si had become used to over the many years of friendship. “Wow, Vas,” Simeon teased his friend, “Ry warned me you had been on a bender. Do you want me to come over and hold your hand? You look like shit, mate.” “I’ve heard more than enough from your twin,” Vasili replied grouchily. “I thought you were the nicer one? It must be bloody important for you to be hassling me. I wanted at least another six hours’ sleep to recuperate before I faced the world, and any of you Montagues particularly.” “Sorry, Vas,” Simeon apologized with only a small level of contrition. “But this really is important. We haven’t heard from Gav, not since he told us he was heading out over two months ago. Neither Ry nor Mike have heard anything from him. We were hoping maybe he contacted you just before the D and D Ball and in your…err…recuperation had merely forgotten to mention it?” Pale and exhausted as his friend looked, Simeon could easily tell his words worried Vasili. He felt his heart sinking. Obviously their father had not contacted Vasili sometime in the last few days or weeks. “Shit. No, Si,” Vas stammered. “If I had heard anything I would have commed you, even puking my guts up as I have been. There’s really been no word at all? That’s not like Gav. He knows how you fret.” Simeon made a rude noise of impatience. “I don’t think it’s particularly nagging or fretting of me to wish to have contact with my father once every month or so, especially when he’s off gallivanting around the galaxy doing heaven knows what. I don’t know why you and the guys make such a big

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deal about it. If I didn’t ask for some form of contact the rest of you would be just as worried.” “I know, Si,” Vasili hastened to placate him. “Geesh, I was just teasing you, man, settle down. It’s just so easy to spike your temper it becomes almost a compulsion. Truly. And you get so self-righteous as well. Tell me you got laid with those hot vampiresses I saw you with before you left the D and D ball. A night or two of rampaging vampiress sex and you really should be a whole lot calmer now.” Simeon ignored the teasing as if it were beneath him. Besides, he knew that rising to the bait again would only make Vasili tease him worse. Instead, he decided to tease his old friend back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stop in later this afternoon and help you out? I bet you haven’t fed in a few days…” He watched as Vasili shrugged, barely able to conceal his wince as his babying hit home. “I had some emergency blood stored away. I’ll go down to a pub, maybe even Scooper’s, later tonight and get a fix. Scooper’s always has a heap of exuberance and lust down there, especially with that new pole up. I’ll be fine, Si. Tell you what,” Simeon raised an eyebrow as a distinctly teasing note came into Vasili’s voice. “I’ll even check in with you before I crash again tonight, just to be safe and so you won’t have to fret for me.” Simeon smiled wryly, shook his head and laughed. “Okay, well…you know how to contact me if you need help.” He laughed again, much happier as Vasili cheekily saluted him and severed the comm connection. Simeon sat back and reviewed his options. Heading back into the main rec room, he felt no surprise whatsoever to hear Michael and Rylan arguing. “There’s no need for you to chase after her like a dog in heat!” Michael seemed to be shouting at Rylan. “Goddess! It’s not as if you don’t have a thousand other women hanging from your body, ready to fulfill your every whim!” “What would you know, Mike?” came the heated retort from Simeon’s twin. “You’re as bad as Si! At least he came to the ball and got laid, you wouldn’t even lower yourself to do that. Don’t you ever feel the need for a particular woman and none other? Or have you managed to find a way to dispense with your body’s needs all together?” Simeon winced. He somehow felt his twin had just given him a very backhanded compliment, in his own bizarre fashion. “Children,” he chided as he walked into the room, much like Gav would have had he been present to hear the last few comments. “I take it Ry is still hot to go and ask Ruthie for some help?”

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When Rylan merely glared at Michael, who snorted and crossed his arms over his chest while keeping his lips pressed firmly shut, Simeon truly felt as if his brothers were in their early twenties and acting like bickering children once more. He shook his head and chuckled. “Why don’t I go and check with Alderic,” Simeon strove to sound oh-so-helpful, “before you go harassing Ruthie again. The last I heard she was incredibly busy and—” “Trying to cut me out, bro?” Rylan sneered, taking Simeon aback. If he didn’t know his twin better, he would have sworn he was green with envy and an insane and uncalled-for jealousy. Simeon smiled widely. He made sure to bare his fangs to Rylan, to prove his point. “Not in the slightest, Ry. And jealousy really doesn’t become you. What the hell has got into you today? You know I wouldn’t poach on her, even though at last count she had turned you down close to fifty times.” For a moment, Simeon could have sworn Rylan wanted to launch himself across the room. Simeon watched warily as his twin flexed his fingers. Without even needing to touch his mind he could feel the incredible urge Rylan had to wring his neck. Simeon shook his head. Rylan certainly was the more impulsive and hotheaded of the two of them, yet it had been many, many years since Si had seen his twin so…on edge. Even though he knew his twin was desperately trying not to project the image, he still could clearly see the desire Rylan had to throttle him. Simeon laughed anyway, trying to cover some of the new worry growing inside him for his twin. “In your dreams, bro,” Simeon jeered with what he hoped was a casual ease. “And you say I fret and stress over absolutely nothing. Take a good look at yourself, mate. You know you would likely be the first person to know if I had any designs on Ruthie. Even when we try not to, we still project and share our thoughts. I seriously doubt I could hide something like that from you. So just cut it out.” He waited another minute, and then Rylan fell back onto the couch and firmly snatched the holo-zine from where Simeon had thrown it earlier, purposely opening up the centerfold and feeling up the hologram situated inside. Simeon shook his head again, sincerely hoping that was the end of Rylan’s childish arguing. “Can I leave the two of you alone?” Simeon asked pointedly with an eyebrow cocked. “Or will you trash the place like a couple of kids the minute my back is turned? In fact, Ry, why don’t you come with me to visit Alderic’s antiques store?” “To the Book Nook?” Rylan said sarcastically, smirking, his usual good humor obviously restored. “You can go there alone, Si. Get back to me when you haven’t found anything and then I will happily get in contact with Ruthie and oh-so-politely request her help.” Simeon raised an eyebrow, but refrained from saying anything. More than likely the feisty investigator would whip his twin’s ass. Again. Simeon would just have to

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make sure that he asked enough questions of old Alderic so that he could set his mind at rest. He really didn’t want to have to pull his twin out of the doldrums when Ruthie turned him down flat. Again. “Okay. Well, I’m heading out,” he said slowly. “I’ll catch you both later.” He smiled as Michael headed to the door with him. “I really hesitate to mention this,” Michael started, the restraint and confusion evident in his lowered voice, “but does Ry feel…I don’t know…different to you, Si? I’ve had a funny feeling about the both of you since the D and D ball. I know that’s only the second or so Vamp ball you’ve been to—and I bet you haven’t even covered half of the delicacies on offer there—but still, you’re both setting off a really odd vibe right now.” Simeon turned his mind inward for a moment. He had been feeling restless, anxious, for a few weeks to months now. He felt mentally and emotionally itchy at odd moments, but he had simply put it down to worry about his sire. Simeon shrugged aside the slight irritation and delved further within himself. If Michael was worried enough to be asking him about himself and Rylan then he must be genuinely concerned. Simeon closed his eyes and probed further into his subconscious. After a few seconds, he realized that sex simply hadn’t been as good as it usually felt. He probed the memories of the two vampiresses he had lain with after the ball— Celia, the redhead and Celerity, the blonde. They had been magnificent, and he knew he had brought both women pleasure, yet he had not achieved real satisfaction himself. But again, he had just assumed his mind was busy and not relaxed, and so his physical gratification had suffered as a result. Simeon pushed a little further, seeking anything else. He certainly didn’t feel lonely, yet neither had he been connecting with his last few lovers as he usually did either. Recently, he seemed to just be slightly disconnected in general. If he were brutally honest with himself, he knew it had little to nothing to do with Gavreel’s disappearance, yet there didn’t seem to be anything else he could attribute his behavior to. He shrugged and looked at his eldest brother. Blue eyes bored into his. A number of times Rylan had been known to curse Michael’s slightly above average physic connection. The man had a touch of seer in him, and sometimes he knew odd things were occurring before anyone else picked up on them. “What are you saying, Michael? You think something is wrong with Rylan and me?” Simeon questioned uneasily. “It’s not like we can get sick or anything, you know that.”

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Michael shrugged, but still stared at him, waiting patiently. Simeon knew then his elder brother would not let this go. That more than anything showed Simeon his brother was serious, and maybe even worried. “There are other ways of being sick besides physically, brother,” Michael insisted gently. “Heartsick, emotionally upset. I can’t really put my finger on it. Something just seems to be up with the two of you.” Simeon nodded his head, acknowledging his brother’s comments. Smiling at Michael’s genuine concern, he bit down the impulse to tease him about his own worrying, fretful nature. Simeon stepped forward and hugged his brother, a quick, brotherly show of affection. “I’ll keep an eye on Rylan, don’t worry,” he assured Michael as he hoped his promise would ease the worry. “I have thought he was acting oddly too, but you know how weird he is about Ruthie. As good for him as I think her turning him down is, I think it really gets to him, deep inside himself. As for me, I think it’s all mixed in with Gav being missing. It’s all just small, petty rubbish going on inside me. I’ll be fine and should be able to sort myself out once I know he’s safe and got his nose stuck in a book somewhere.” For a moment, Simeon found himself locked under Michael’s stare, lost in the blueness of his eyes. He allowed Michael to penetrate his mind, and opened himself to his brother’s too often all-seeing gaze. A minute passed, and then two. Simeon waited patiently, knowing Michael would continue to probe as much as he could until his own worry was fully satisfied. Simeon knew Michael had approached him, as in Rylan’s current state he likely wouldn’t have the patience to let Michael take as long as he needed. After another minute, Simeon felt Michael withdraw. “Ah. Right.” Simeon watched as Michael smiled broadly and stepped back, obviously having found whatever he needed. Simeon felt his eyes narrow as his brother tried not so convincingly to smother his chuckles. A definite snicker or two escaped before Michael could get his voice working. “What is that ‘Ah’ and the chuckling supposed to mean, Mike?” “Nothing.” Although the wideness of Michael’s grin seemed to state otherwise. Simeon frowned further, but Michael beat him to say, “You’ll work it out soon enough. Man, does this all make sense now. Let me know when you’re heading back from Alderic’s, okay? Keep in close touch.” Simeon nodded. Deciding the whole damn conversation was simply too odd to mull over, he pushed it all away and out of his mind. He had to admit he had been a bit startled by Rylan’s odd behavior, and he mentally resolved to keep a closer eye on his twin. Heaven knew what mess he was in if Michael had been able to pick up on it and he hadn’t. Besides, if Michael wanted to keep close tabs on him, then Simeon knew he really did have to keep a close watch on his twin. 55

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Michael punched him lightly on the shoulder, and turned to walk back down the hall. Simeon watched him for a moment, slightly confused but more amused than genuinely worried. Shaking his head, he turned in the opposite direction, toward the main door and out into the street. Simeon checked the door locked behind him, and shook his head as if it would clear it. He still felt more than slightly befuddled as he left their lodgings. Obviously Michael had found something in his mind that he couldn’t recognize himself. He frowned as the thought bothered him slightly, but not enough to truly upset him. It couldn’t be something galaxy-shattering if Michael told him not to worry about it, and wouldn’t even expound on whatever it was that was occurring to them both. Michael had said what, exactly? Ah, yes, he’d work it out soon enough. Simeon shook off his worry. If it had been anything serious, Michael would have let him know. Besides, it wasn’t as if he needed anything more to think and try to mull over right now. He turned down a different block and headed in the direction of the Book Nook. Alderic was Gavreel’s oldest friend, but they also both shared ownership of the ancient artifacts and tome store. They performed research, sold bits and pieces, and did a number of oddball academic tasks many people had no idea about anymore. Alderic was a bit of a recluse, and also fairly nutty, but the elder vampire was just as fiendishly obsessed with knowledge and rare texts as Gavreel. He would be the first person to be told of anything Gav was researching, and likely had a decent idea of what the hell was going on. Even if Alderic had no clue where Gav had headed off to, he would have a fair idea of whatever tome, text or research the man had been doing when he left. He would likely be a font of information. He was also the next logical person to ask and the next place to look. Simeon prided himself often on his impeccable logic and his straightforward train of thought. He had been the only son who had received Gavreel’s rather uninspiring logical thought progression. Both Rylan and Michael decreed it “boring”, but he preferred to think of it as analytical and logical. Besides, Simeon had a feeling it would take a fair bit of logic to find their father’s whereabouts. Gavreel had almost certainly used his own logic to move wherever he had gone, and so it made a certain sense that Simeon should be able to find, follow and with any luck anticipate whatever it was Gavreel had decided on doing. It might as well be he to follow the trail his father hopefully had left.

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Chapter Six “Bloody wretched holo-screens,” Clare muttered darkly to herself. She continued to press random keys, vainly trying to unlock the screen she had been working on. Nothing, however, seemed to be working. “Whoever invented these idiotic things should be taken out back and shot, repeatedly,” she continued to mutter to herself as she pressed combinations of keys harder and harder. After a moment of fruitless searching, she folded her hands very carefully in her lap, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After counting to ten, and then backward down to one, she felt calm enough to ask for some help. “Alderic,” she called out loudly enough to reach the back room, “the bloody holoscreen has frozen up again!” She thought she heard a sigh come from the back room, but couldn’t be sure. “Holo-screens can’t freeze up, Clare. You know that.” “Of course the damn things can’t freeze up,” she repeated softly to herself, injecting some sarcasm into her tone. She continued to punch keys at random in the vain effort to find the correct one. “So why the hell does nothing I do seem to have any impact?” she muttered to herself. “What else would that be called?” She continued to curse in growing annoyance under her breath. With increasing vigor and even more profane mutterings she had picked up in her three months on this odd planet, Clare continued to try and fix the newfangled computer, which Alderic called a PCC, and swear more vehemently as nothing she did affected it. “Can’t freeze up, my fat ass,” she said softly under her breath, unsure of exactly how good Alderic’s hearing was. She pressed the “exit” button. Surely that should work? Undo whatever hideous thing she had managed to do without meaning to or even realizing? The futuristic computer just beeped at her. “Bloody stupid fucking machine,” she hissed softly, not wanting yet another lecture from Alderic on how profanity in a woman just wasn’t de rigueur anymore. Unsure what else she could do, as there was no power source or plug for her to pull to shut the computer down so she could start again, she pressed the exit button even harder. This time, she elicited an even more outraged-sounding beep from the inbuilt keyboard. Clare sighed, and in complete agitation, pressed the key over and over, the force she used giving her a small measure of satisfaction.

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She looked around the desk for the tower, or any visible source of power so she could turn the damn thing off and start again…or at least vent some of her annoyance by kicking it. Clare had no inkling of just how lost in her own little world she had become, blind to everything else in the room except the frustration of the computer, until she heard the unmistakable sound of a man clearing his throat. Embarrassed that she hadn’t even heard the door open, she blinked, as if waking from a dream. The husky, masculine sound of a smothered chuckle and a man clearing his throat brought her attention away from the computer as little else could have at that moment. “Oh,” she said, looking up and trying not to audibly gulp at the handsome man, “sorry, computer problems.” Clare internally groaned at being caught at such a disadvantage by such a prime male specimen, but she smiled brightly, hoping the voltage in her grin would detract from her earlier incomprehension on what nowadays any normal three-year-old could work with ease. Knowing there was no use in trying to pretend she hadn’t been considering throwing the wretched machine through the front window, Clare widened her smile of welcome and casually copped an eyeful of the luscious man in front of her. Belatedly remembering her manners, she lightly said, “Welcome to the Book Nook. I’m Clare, may I help you?” After three months in this strange new time, Clare still often felt as if she were stuck in a dream. So very many things seemed so utterly surreal to her, she had been trying her best to break herself in gently. Odd new laws on alcohol, the absolute mess of driving what they classified as cars, a million and one things had changed and after the first few, incredibly difficult weeks, both Gav and Alderic had suggested she not only stay with them on a permanent basis, but also let herself gradually acclimatize to the changes. It had sounded like a brilliant plan to her, and so she had followed their suggestion. She had noticed the numbers of sexy, handsome people seemed somehow elevated in this different time, and she had yet to find an explanation for it. Plastic surgery and the new medical technology had increased beyond her wildest expectations, yet she felt there was more to it than that. When she had her footing more solidly beneath her, she intended to try a crash course in genetics and the interbreeding of different species to see if an explanation lay there. Clare had never really held much appreciation for science before, other than natural curiosity, but with technology so far advanced and her curiosity completely whetted, she wanted to at least give herself a chance to learn more about the galaxy and time she had found herself in. Half the time Clare believed she had lucked out by being “transported” into this time and place. The other half, however, she thought she had been stuck in some sort of 58

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purgatory and God, or the Goddess as these people seemed to believe, had dropped her into the middle of it all as some sort of cosmic joke. If that belief were true, she certainly hadn’t managed to work out the punch line just yet. She wasn’t convinced she wanted to either. Clare had yet to travel off-planet, but she had to admit it was on her list of things to work up to very soon. As soon as she could gather her courage, that is. As she carefully looked the man before her up and down, she realized here was one big, strong man she would absolutely love to have along for a long intergalactic ship ride. With his shoulder-length, straight dark brown hair and sexy, melted chocolate eyes, he seemed to press all her hot buttons and she tried vainly to ignore the tingling across her skin. She certainly wouldn’t have to worry about rogue mercs or space pirates or any of the other horror stories Gav and Alderic had scared her shitless with when she had first mentioned interplanetary travel with this man along for the ride. He, too, seemed to look her over longer than politely necessary. She felt grateful for the black pants and loud orange top she wore. They were the closest things to what she considered normal clothes that she had been able to find in the nightmarish maze of clothing chains, and she had bought them to the almost insulted outcries of Alderic. He had insisted both items of apparel were considered extremely uncool, but after two hours of trying on more skimpy skirts and odd skin-hugging “suits” than she cared to recall, after finding the fairly normal clothing, she couldn’t have cared less if they had been neon green with pink and purple love-hearts on them. They were comfortable, they fit her and far more importantly, they felt familiar. Even though the man in front of her seemed slightly amused at her choice in clothing, they made her feel safe and not like she was about to hyperventilate, or worse, flash her panties every time she moved. After the shop closed at night, Clare had to quietly admit to herself she did tend to try on some of the less skimpy items Alderic had insisted on buying her, and slowly, she found herself growing used to them and even vaguely comfortable in them, but it would be a number of weeks more before she had the guts to wear them in public, or here to “work”. Mentally she had shrugged. Who cared what was “in” in this day and age? She still felt a strong right to wear whatever the hell made her happy and feel not quite so displaced, even if she did love their teensy, brightly colored underwear. She felt an almost indecent joy in wearing bright colors in scraps of a silky material that barely covered her. What she wore under her clothing could be as skimpy and indecent as she pleased, it was her outer clothing, or “armor” as Alderic called it, that they had been butting heads over. For the first time since she had been on that shopping spree, she wished she had bought one, or even two of the flimsy, almost see-through dresses she had admired but not had the guts to buy, let alone wear. She made a mental note to go back to the chain stores, and buy a few more to get used to in the privacy of her rooms at night. If there

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were many more men as handsome as this one, she would willingly get used to the sheer items women nowadays considered dresses. “I’m looking for Gavreel Montague,” the man said, smiling charmingly. Clare felt another twist in her stomach at the beauty in his smile. Biting her lip and placing her concentration back on her holo-screen, she tried desperately to concentrate on her work, and not the man in front of her. She tried to focus on her oddly designed keyboard, anything except the heat invading her body and the incredible urge to tug and tighten the pants and idiotic tshirt she wore to show off her body to a better advantage. “He’s not in,” she said with determined carelessness. She hoped this would make him leave and return later, when she could avoid him and not have these giddy feelings inside her to make her feel confused. She pressed the “help” button on the panel and cursed darkly again as it elicited another outraged beep from the machine. What the hell had she done to make the PCC act like this? “Bloody stupid thing,” she cursed softly again, wondering if she dragged Alderic out of the ancient text he had holed himself away to study, he’d deign to help her. These last few weeks Alderic more and more had been insisting she work out herself how to fix her own mistakes. He had proclaimed that if he bailed her out of every small thing she would never learn. Which was all perfectly fine and good, except for the life of her she seemed unable to unfreeze the damn screen. The last time he had pressed one simple button and everything had rebooted easily. So, where the hell was the reboot button? Bizarre squiggles covered the keys, and while she knew what a number of the important keys were, she had no idea where the button to fix this problem was. She swore she would pay more attention next time, mentally begging the gods to help her not seem like an absolute moron in front of this sexy man. Seeing the gorgeous man still standing patiently in front of her, she remembered his query about Gavreel and continued to talk as she started pressing buttons at random. “He’s gone—” she started automatically, but then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about his “quest”. He hadn’t exactly explained where he was going, or what it was he wanted to do, or if he had she hadn’t fully understood what he had meant. Most of what she had understood was the dedication in her vampiric tome had made a few pieces of a puzzle he had been working on for a number of years fall into place for him, and he had decided to go gallivanting off around the galaxy on something she really didn’t want explained to her that he called a “ship”. She had easily enough worked out for herself it wasn’t some huge wooden ark-like structure with a mast and sails. She had merely smiled and nodded at Gavreel instead.

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The one thing she had heard and understood from Gavreel loud and clear was he had cautioned her not to tell anyone anything about where he had headed. She recalled thinking at the time that would be easy enough, as she had no idea where he was headed. Apparently there was a vampiress he was wary of called Chandra. He had muttered to himself about how annoyed he had been when she had, a number of times, “stolen a march on him” for one paper or another. He had exclaimed how a dozen or so times over the last few centuries—Clare still shuddered at such casual references to such enormous periods of time—Chandra had beaten him at the last moment to making some important discoveries. Gavreel had finally snapped out of his sullen mumblings and had made her promise not to reveal what he had spoken about with her to anyone for fear of this vampiress hearing about it. Gossip spreading fast she could well understand, particularly when everyone seemed to know everyone else. Clare bit her lip and cast her mind about for something else to say to this unknown man. “Uh, he’s…umm…gone…out,” she finished, realizing even to her ears how lame that sounded. “Sorry,” she said as she looked back at the holo-screen and desperately hoped her inane babbling would be enough to make the man think she was absolutely nutty and have him run away and leave her alone. She felt her skin flush with embarrassment as she stared at the screen, unable to even continue the typing she had thought to do—because the damned screen was still frozen. She licked her lips nervously and, praying to all the gods, pressed the “exit” key again. The machine beeped at her. She could almost feel the damn machine’s indignation at her idiocy. She felt her slight flush turn into a full-blown blush, making her skin feel red-hot. The man still stood there—she didn’t even need to look as she could sense him watching her. She raised her eyes challengingly to his beautiful dark brown ones. For a moment she feared she might fall into some sort of spell, so hard was the pull in his gorgeous eyes. Impatient with herself, she shook her head and tried to get a grip on herself. What the hell was the matter with her? She hadn’t been particularly attracted to any of the beautiful men she had met on this odd planet in the few months she had been there. She felt too dislocated, too utterly stupid in this confusing world to think about being sexy, or having a mad, passionate fling. Yet somehow this man made her feel all that and more. She felt feminine and desirable and not like a complete buffoon trying to sort out the complexities of this world. Knowing she would never hold any respect for herself again if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions and runaway thoughts, she decided if the sexy man would have to stand there then he could bloody well be of some use. She opened her mouth, hoping she wouldn’t insult him, or worse, stick her foot in it. She had been astonished at some

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of the differences between “her” world and this one. Culture shock was the understatement of the millennium. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to unfreeze a holo-screen, would you?” she said in her bright and chirpy manner. She plastered a big, wide smile on her face, hoping to appear merely slightly confused, instead of frazzled, annoyed and dumbfounded. Clare knew her competence at hiding her uncertainty had skyrocketed over the last few weeks, but she was still unsure how proficient she had become at hiding the huge, struggling argument going on inside her. Clare didn’t understand, but she somehow wanted simultaneously to scare the man into leaving the store, as no one this handsome had any right to intrude on her thoughts, scrambling her mind and making her appear like a stupid three-year-old. Yet she also couldn’t deny the fierce desire she had raging inside her wanting this man to stay and get to know her, maybe spend some time with and get to know him and this odd world she seemed stuck in. She had no idea what was going on inside her. It almost felt as if a part of her knew him, recognized him, which was utterly and completely ridiculous. There was no way she would forget him, and yet still the feeling persisted. To really make her question her mental competency, she knew it wasn’t as if she could have met him sometime back in her time and not remember him. She sincerely doubted he, too, had magically flown through time with no way back. She flat out refused to ask him, as she knew if she oh-so-casually asked him if he were from the far distant past he would then truly think her mad. Besides, both Gavreel and Alderic had given her a massive lecture on her first morning against telling anyone of her time travel. Apparently even in this day and age time travel was not common or even well known. They had cautioned her against talking about it to anyone. Clare trusted both Gavreel and Alderic, knew they only wanted to help her and so she had taken their advice very seriously. Besides, she hadn’t yet come across even an opportunity where she had struggled with her decision about whether to talk to someone about the truth of herself. She had been so busy trying to learn everything and settle herself she hadn’t really begun to socialize much except for walking down the local streets and chatting idly with the other shopkeepers. Anyway, this man certainly had the looks to be a top-class model. She certainly didn’t recall seeing him on the covers of any book or holo-zine. She knew she would have recalled seeing him on a cover, as she would have bought the merchandise, and more than likely a spare copy for when she had read it so many times the covers were creased beyond repair. Besides, there was no way she would have forgotten his face and eyes, let alone his body. Clare sat up straight with a start. She must have been staring at the poor man for almost a full minute, lost in her own musings. He had a small, understanding smile on his face, likely seeing her worry and frustrations.

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He smiled down at her as he crossed the room to where she was. She felt grateful he seemed so friendly, approaching her carefully as if she were a scared little girl. Clare wrinkled her nose at the weak connotation, but didn’t say anything. Back home she would deeply resent the implication, no matter how carefully put, that she couldn’t take care of herself. Out here, however, she literally felt as if she were stuck in a whole new world. One where under her covers, late at night, she sometimes did feel like nothing more than a scared little girl. Realizing the man was about to lean over her to work on her PCC, she quickly moved her chair to the side as the man came right around to her side of the desk. He smiled again and paused where he stood right up close to the console, where he could look at the holo-screen. “You can’t freeze a holo-screen,” he said patiently, gently. He seemed undisturbed by her ravings, not even slightly put off by her previous incoherent speech. “See how you’ve pressed the double zektla key?” Clare frowned and reluctantly leaned in to where he pointed. Her curiosity and desire to find out what she had done overrode her uneasiness about getting too close to this man. Clare had never thrown herself at a man, but she might reconsider the embarrassing behavior for this delicious specimen. She bent right in, so she was only a hairsbreadth away from his arm. She angled her head so she could see which key he pointed to. Clare had no clue what a double zektla key was, and she mentally filed the question away for later to ask Alderic. She realized she had not needed this key yet, but it was right next to one she used frequently when programming orders. Clare nodded, hoping she looked as if she knew what the man had just pointed out. She did, however, memorize the key for future reference. “That has indicated to the PCC to pause.” Clare wrinkled her nose as the man pressed a different key. Clare also took note of the key he pressed to unlock the console. “That will let you continue.” Warily, Clare looked up into his face and smiled. “Thanks,” she said, taking yet another good look at the man. She had a feeling he would head right out their door and she would never see him again. She wanted an indepth mental vision of him, to while away the long, cold evening hours. His rich, dark brown hair drew her eye. It shone, the silky strands looking incredibly soft and sensual to the touch. His eyes were such a dark brown, they looked black, and just as she looked at him, and he seemed to be looking her over as well. Clare frowned. Seeing his face in profile like this, he faintly resembled her fantasy man from back home, his eyes were so dark, but she could see a light sparkle in them, his hair was as dark and thick and straight as her fantasy man’s had been.

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Shaking her head Clare berated herself. She had never really caught a decent glimpse of her fantasy man. It would be the height of stupidity to try and foist her dreams and fantasies onto this one poor man, whom she likely would never see again. Clare let her eyes wander down the man’s neck, determined to not stare at his face anymore. He wore a dark green shirt, which looked amazing with his hair and eyes, and also highlighted the fact his skin seemed faintly tanned, as opposed to the superpale complexion everyone seemed to consider beautiful. The flex of muscles Clare could see moving beneath the shirt was enough to have her mouth watering. “Not a problem. I’m Simeon Montague, Gavreel’s son. Don’t you think you can tell me where he’s gone, Clare? I’m just worried about him as he hasn’t contacted me for over two months.” Clare frowned, digesting this information, but if she were honest with herself, she was repeating the name Simeon over to herself, realizing the strong, old-fashioned name suited him really well. She blinked when the rest of his statement filtered through her head. Simeon was one of Gavreel’s sons. Gavreel had mentioned his three sons a few times before he had left. Gavreel always had love and pride in his voice when he mentioned them. Usually, Clare recalled, he had also had a huge grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye as if Gav knew exactly the kinds of antics his boys got up to. Once again, Clare felt completely torn within herself. She didn’t think Gavreel had meant for her to not tell his sons where he had gone, yet he had been adamant she not tell anyone about his plans. Clare wrinkled her nose. She felt pulled in two directions—her loyalty to Gavreel, but also she felt the need to help Simeon. She compromised with herself. “Gav took a large bag with him,” she recalled softly, hoping Gavreel wouldn’t be upset with her telling this to Simeon. “Rather like what I would call a duffel bag, if you know what that is. About this big,” she indicated its rough dimensions with her hands. She smiled as Simeon nodded. “I’m sure he had whatever he needed in there to contact you—it was packed pretty full. He said it was likely he would be pretty busy for a while and he mentioned something about closing his mind to the normal way…” Clare let her words trail off and grimaced to herself as she ran out of what she felt “safe” to tell the sexy man standing near her. Besides, it still felt more than a little weird to be accepting mental telepathy as a “normal” method of communication. She really didn’t want to keep secrets, but neither did she want to break her promise to Gavreel, and with all the information she had given Simeon, she felt she was cutting her promise pretty thinly. She decided it was well past time to call out to Alderic, interrupt whatever he was doing. Before she had the chance, however, Simeon had smiled at her, and then threw his head back and laughed loudly. She watched, utterly entranced, as his face split into

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a grin, flashing perfect white teeth, and a tiny dimple appeared in one cheek. His hair moved softly, begging for her touch. She didn’t think a man had ever enchanted her. Certainly not within ten minutes of meeting him. But ever since she had looked up to see Simeon standing there watching her with that slight grin to his face she had been nothing but enchanted and almost under a spell cast by him. She felt herself drawn closer and closer to Simeon, almost as if they were two oppositely charged magnets. It seemed inevitable, almost beyond her control. Every different thing she noticed about him seemed to wind its way around her heart and pulled her closer to him, made her more curious about him and want to ask him a zillion questions. Clare knew she was practically clueless about much of the world here. Although she had studied and learned an awful lot over the last three months or so, she still had little idea about much of what went on in this enormous galaxy. She had begun to dream of traveling her way through this new universe, discovering everything she could about it all, yet for now, this man fascinated her far more than the numerous new planets and colonies she had discovered existed. On top of her new thirst for this particular man, she found herself feeling an almost unbearable craving to run her hands through his hair, to trace the outline of his chest and indulge in some of her wilder fantasies. She smiled to herself as she discovered she also wanted to see his dimple peek into his cheek again, to make him laugh once more and hear that deep, lusty sound. Clare shook her head when she realized he had actually stopped laughing and had been looking her over as well. She smiled, but returned his questioning glance. He chuckled again and then seemed to pull himself under control. “I am sorry, but the thought of Gav not being able to contact me tickled my funny bone. The old man can touch his mind to mine anytime he wishes to. You do realize we are vampires, right?” Clare felt her world lurch slightly to one side, but quickly regained her self-control. She refused to blush, although she worried her cheeks might have flushed slightly. Simeon just kept watching her though, with those hot, hungry-looking dark brown eyes. He thankfully didn’t seem to notice her momentary shock at realizing this sexy man was a vampire. It was a logical thought, but not one she had managed to connect on her own, which made her feel faintly embarrassed. Simeon seemed to be not only incredibly perceptive of her mood and swings of thought, but also exceedingly patient and tolerant. Clare worried at how easily she could fall in love with such a person, vampire or not. “I did know that Gavreel and Alderic are both vampires,” she explained honestly. “Being his son I know it’s a rather logical conclusion, but…uh…my mind hadn’t quite leapt that far just yet,” she admitted wryly.

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Nothing in the world, however, could have convinced her to admit she had been too busy eyeing his good looks and his luscious hair instead of making logical leaps at his parentage. It seemed to be a full-time job just trying not to think about kissing those lips or feeling his body rub erotically against her own naked skin. Thinking about it now, however, Clare remembered what she had read in the tome about vampiric reproduction. Gavreel must have found a compatible woman during one of his phases in heat. Yet why hadn’t he made a commitment to the woman? Surely if she had borne his son, three of them if she recalled correctly, then Gavreel must have had a great and deep affection for the woman? Before Clare could think further along that train of thought Simeon spoke again. “Well, if Gav told you not to tell anyone where he was going, I could always look in your mind, with your permission, of course. Then you could keep your promise to Gavreel and not be telling anyone, but I can still find out what his plans were and where he was heading.” Clare frowned, unsure what to say. The thought of anyone, even Simeon, looking into her mind didn’t sit well with her, but it appeared obvious to her that the man was worried about his father. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision, based mostly on her snap judgment that Simeon was a good man, or vampire, or whatever, and she could trust him not to either betray her trust, or abuse what she offered him. She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded, wanting whatever he was about to do, over and done with. She had no real idea of what he was about to do, whether it would hurt or not, and so she kept her mind focused on hoping Gavreel would understand. She knew in her heart that she was breaking the spirit of Gavreel’s request, but she had faith this man before her was not out to steal Gavreel’s findings or knowledge, or write a new paper out from under him. This was Gavreel’s son and he was merely worried about his father. Clare closed her eyes, tried not to focus and worry about how she had no knowledge of what was about to happen, merely praying desperately to the Goddess of All that it wouldn’t be painful. Clare grimaced at what she perceived to be her own cowardice. She was an utter baby when it came to pain. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, expecting a pain in her head, or some sort of pressure indicating Simeon’s mind, or soul, or something entering inside her. A million scenarios flashed through her mind, only heightened by her imagination. Each scenario that she thought of was more painful and worrying than the next. The seconds seemed to pass incredibly slowly, each one beating inside her head as a minute or maybe more passed by. She gasped in shock as she felt a heavy, warm hand press down gently on her shoulder. She jerked back, her eyes flying wide open. For a split second she felt dizzy, disorientated as if she had stood up really quickly, or had leapt from a tall building.

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She felt her heart pump fast and hard against her chest. She realized she was feeling a moment of sheer terror that maybe she was about to wake up somewhere different yet again. She writhed in the chair, her hands were sweating and a thin trail of sweat also ran down her back. She stood up abruptly, needing to feel the ground solid beneath her feet. Instead of the bizarre alien scene she had been petrified of finding, she could see herself standing in the small front room of Gavreel and Alderic’s shop, exactly where she had been a moment before. Simeon stood in front of her, worry and something darker, more erotically hungry lurking in his eyes. “Maybe we had better interrupt Alderic,” he said slowly, carefully. “I know he’s a bit of a grouch when he is taken from his precious books, but this is getting more and more strange by the moment.” “Strange?” she echoed. As Simeon headed out the back into the hallway, she followed him, wanting to understand something of what was occurring. “What on earth do you mean by strange? I really don’t know where Gavreel headed, I only know it’s somewhere off-planet…I mean…” Clare trailed off again, wondering if Simeon had been bullshitting her about being able to read her mind. She shook her head. He was a vampire, so of course he could read her mind. Both Gavreel and Alderic could read her mind with barely any effort at all. The fact she was pretty much emotionally honest and an open book to them certainly helped them, but both men had taken great pains to try and teach her to erect mental barriers. She still, even after three months of practicing, had trouble with even a flimsy barrier. It had been a major arguing point for Alderic, and Gavreel before he had left, in convincing her to stay with them where she was safe and wouldn’t be taken advantage of. So Simeon should have been able to read her mind with ease. “I couldn’t penetrate your mind,” Simeon said over his shoulder as he led the way to Alderic’s study. Clare frowned and hastened her steps to catch right up to him. “I should have been able to penetrate your mind easily,” he continued. “I couldn’t feel but the most simple of mind blocks up. Yet I couldn’t read or see anything at all.” Clare made a rude face at his back and then grinned at her childish behavior. The manner in which he had said “the most simple of mind blocks” had irked her, his lordly you-should-have-been-practicing-more tone of voice exceedingly reminiscent of Gavreel. Instead of dwelling on his arrogance, Clare merely shrugged her annoyance away. “So what?” she replied, frustrated to hear her voice sound a bit like a defiant child. She cleared her throat and controlled her tone. She had to remember that “most simple of mind blocks” had managed to keep the oh-so-wonderful Simeon Montague out of her head. “Obviously you’re simply not destined to read my mind,” Clare replied, her happy manner restored with the thought. “Maybe Gavreel did something so you couldn’t see what he told me.”

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In such a crazy world, where the most simple and basic of things needed to be explained to her, Clare had found all her usual skepticism and adult cynicism had been completely erased. In this world, she believed pretty much anything was possible. She didn’t consider anything beyond fantastic, and she no longer brushed aside any thought or concept as ridiculous. In a sense, she had found it incredibly enlightening. She now let her imagination totally run away with possibilities of what could or might happen. Clare grinned as Simeon raised a hand to knock at the door to Alderic’s office, and the elder vampire’s voice came through the closed door before Simeon could rap his knuckles on the paneling. “Come on in, boy. I take it Clare is refusing to tell you about your father, huh?” Clare’s grin widened as Simeon turned to her, a wry grin on his own face. She mouthed “I told you so”, to Simeon, who merely smiled. “I guess we’re expected then,” he said aloud as he opened the door and led them both into Alderic’s office. Clare inhaled the much-loved scent of old books, papers and general mustiness that was the small room. The room was packed with tomes, notes and what appeared to be decades’ worth of collections. Smiling to herself, Clare entered the office behind Simeon.

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Chapter Seven Simeon wondered if he was losing his mind. Inside his head, he could hear exactly what Rylan would say. “All that worrying has just made you stupid, bro,” he would say in that snarky, almost preaching tone of voice that never failed to drive Simeon nuts. Rylan would say he was overreacting, creating a huge fuss over nothing. Yeah, sure. Very easy for Rylan to say when he seemingly never had any doubts about himself or even what to do in any given situation. Simeon shook his head and tried to get a grip on himself. Why the five hells did he feel an almost unbearable urge to lay the woman behind him down, strip those odd-looking garments from her body to reveal the satin-smooth skin he felt certain resided underneath, and explore her body. Slowly. Thoroughly. With his fingers and his tongue and any other parts of his body which felt like getting in on the action. He had felt his temperature rise the instant he had walked through the door to the Book Nook. Simeon had easily brushed off the fairly unique sensation of his body not sticking to its regulated temperature. He had reminded himself he’d just walked a fair distance, and the resultant rise in his temperature had been related only to that. The first indication he was fooling himself should have been the fact he felt it necessary to assure his own mind. Yet the walk didn’t explain the even higher spike in his temperature which he had felt sear through him when he had first caught sight of Clare. He could have sworn he broke out in almost unheard-of pinpricks of sweat covering the surface along his back. An instant later he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t simply felt just an itch. His eyes had remained on Clare, the beautiful, exotic woman he’d had no idea worked for his father and Alderic. He could not tear his gaze from her, even throughout his body’s crazy antics. He itched to feel the almost waist-length mass of dark brown curls pour like silk between his fingers, and he wanted to feel her light brown eyes run over him. Those curls were scarily reminiscent of his fantasy woman, the dream figure whom he had itched for months now to fuck, but who always seemed to be just a step or two ahead of him in any given scenario. Simeon refused to entertain the thought Clare and this woman might be one and the same, as he seriously doubted she would appreciate him pouncing on her and stripping her naked, then devouring her in the middle of the shop floor.

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It would smack of desperation, as Rylan would point out with a jeer. Instead, Simeon had spent a good moment or two watching the gorgeous woman and envisioning the clear mental picture of himself standing naked before her, fully aroused. Her eyes would light up with an inner fire as she hungrily sucked his thick cock into her mouth. She would eat up his body with those fire-whiskey-colored eyes as she sucked him to a roaring climax. Simeon knew he was in big, deep trouble as a practically unknown woman utterly stole his breath away, not while doing a teasing escort striptease, not while undulating semi-naked in front of him, but instead by cursing, frowning menacingly and pressing buttons in a very unladylike, irritated manner on her PCC. What the hell had got into him? Another thing that completely baffled him, absolutely beyond his comprehension and personal explanations, was why he hadn’t simply interrupted her odd growling and fighting with her PCC, asked his questions about Gavreel and then left straight away. He had to admit to some curiosity as to why she couldn’t understand even the most basic of explanations about her machine. Children not even entered into the schooling system could use their units better than she. Yet other than that and his unusually strong physical reaction to her he was dumbfounded as to what his mind and body were doing. This woman, Clare, confounded him on so many levels he felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into his odd infatuation with her with every second that passed. He had genuinely expected this task to take but a few mere minutes—walk in, ask his questions and walk straight back out again. Instead of following his usual logical, utterly sane path of rationality he had stood like a dork, watching her like some lovesick puppy, his tongue tied into knots and his cock hardening as if he were some rampant, untried green youth. Rylan and Michael would both certainly have hysterics if they ever knew. Not to mention the eternal, never-ending teasing Vasili would give to him. Simeon snapped back to attention when he realized he had been staring at Alderic for a short while like a gauche youth. He knew his eyes would have likely been unfocused, as he had not been seeing the elderly vampire, but when Alderic cleared his throat slightly, Simeon noticed the slightly raised eyebrow. Simeon nodded, acknowledging the elder, and bowed gracefully and respectfully to the vampire sitting at the desk in the cluttered study. His half-moon spectacles rested on his nose, his hands idly touching the pages of the three different volumes he had evidently been researching. “Yes, Simeon? I do hope you haven’t been harassing our poor guest.”

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Simeon felt as if he were six years old again and being chastised by the old man. It didn’t matter that Alderic didn’t look like his many centuries, Simeon could feel the press of the vampire’s age on him. “He’s been asking about Gavreel, Alderic, but he hasn’t been harassing me.” Simeon felt a faint flush cross his cheekbones as Clare defended him. Damned if he’d needed defending since he was a youth. The mixture of his mind and body seemingly going insane on him, as well as the “naughty schoolboy” treatment he felt like he was getting had him acting like the youth he knew he wasn’t. He blurted out the one thing he hadn’t been meaning to ask. “Alderic, I can’t read her mind. I mean…” He felt his blush increase as he almost stammered. What the five hells was the matter with him? “I have just been concerned about Gav, you know he never goes long stretches without saying hello. And it’s been over two months now.” Alderic shrugged and Simeon felt the pressure in his mind threaten to explode. What the hell was Alderic doing, merely shrugging at his concern? “Gavreel has gone on a quest,” the elder said calmly. Simeon released a pent-up breath and felt the almost unbearable pressure in his head lessen. “He swore dear Clare here to secrecy as he doesn’t want Chandra stealing a march on him. He left after last speaking with you. Has it really been that long?” Simeon felt his stomach roll as Alderic removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes and nose. Simeon merely nodded, not wanting to halt the elderly man’s train of thought, or lead him unknowingly to change the topic of conversation. “Dear me, he hasn’t checked in with us either. More than two months, eh? Time really does fly by, doesn’t it?” Clare, he noticed, seemed relieved. Simeon turned to her and asked rather more harshly than he had intended, “Where did my father go?” His frustration, both with her as well as himself, melted away and he smiled as she looked down her nose at him, pressing those luscious lips together tightly. He nearly burst into laughter at the sight she made. He was a good couple of inches taller than her, and even with her lush curves he knew he easily outweighed her any way she wanted to look at it. Besides, the snotty, almost aristocratic manner she tried to peer down at him had him wanting to simultaneously turn her over his knee as well as drag her into his arms. Damned if he didn’t want to kiss that lush mouth of hers. He blinked, surprised at his rush of lust. It was utterly unlike him. He usually only focused on one thing at a time, and he had definitely been focusing on Gavreel and not much else of late. While he had spent far more than his fair share of time focusing on a woman and the enticing games men and women played together, it was highly unusual for him to be sidetracked with sexual thoughts and feelings while concentrating on something

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different. Particularly when that something else was his family, usually nothing could distract him from that. So what was it about her? He shifted his weight uncomfortably, wishing the room were not quite so warm. He snapped his attention back to the sensual woman beside him as she spoke. “Gavreel didn’t tell me where he was going. He’s just chasing a reference in a book I seem to have accidentally brought him. Truly, I think he’ll be fine, he just seems to have a tendency to get lost in his studies.” Simeon heard her words, but the tone of her voice seemed to distract him from what she actually said. “I know that,” he replied after a moment, “but it’s not like him to not contact us. You really don’t know where he’s gone?” He nearly smiled as she looked angrily at him. “I just said so, didn’t I? I am not in the habit of lying, you know.” He watched her, utterly entranced as she whirled angrily to Alderic. “I need to get back to work.” The old man smiled and nodded and didn’t say a thing as she left the office. Simeon sat down with a huge exhalation of breath. “When did you go into heat, son?” As soon as the words left the old man’s mouth, Simeon felt his body begin to sweat once again. It was almost as if hearing the words from Alderic’s lips shed light on his subconscious and gave his body permission to show its telltale signs in full force. “I have no idea,” he said softly, wiping a palm across his forehead. Simeon wasn’t even certain if he was telling the elder vamp he wasn’t sure he’d been in heat at all, or whether he simply didn’t know when he had gone into the state of fertility. This wasn’t his first run-through with his heat phase, yet somehow this time around seemed far more sneaky, more complicated than it had ever felt before. Simeon thought for a moment, fitting together the pieces of the puzzle that was his mind and body. “Maybe at the start of the week, around the D and D ball?” Simeon said idly, still feeling shocked and reeling from the knowledge he was entering heat. So this is what Michael had picked up on. This also explained why Rylan was acting like a hormonal teenage human boy. “Interesting,” the old man murmured. Simeon looked at him as he ran his eyes head to foot over him. “What’s interesting? I am not some damn organism under a microscope, I have no idea how this all happened. I’ve been through heat before, so how could I not recognize the signs? How could…” He trailed off as he thought of Clare and felt an incredible flare of heat run straight though him, causing every muscle to spasm and shake.

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Numerous fantasies, each one more decadent, heated and lush ran though his mind. Licking along the weeping opening of Clare’s cunt, sucking all the juices from her lips, having her mouth stretch wide around his cock as he thrust inside her. Images ran through his mind, one after another, searing him with their intensity. “Son, believe it or not I am not treating you like an experiment. I just found it interesting that your symptoms were mild, or mildish until you met Clare. And you know what being unable to penetrate her mind means…” Simeon nodded, knew full well that meant she was a compatible mate, maybe even able to complete his Soul’s Circle. “But you haven’t told her…” He winced as Alderic snorted and turned back to his tome. “Of course we haven’t told her. Neither Gavreel nor I had any idea she might be compatible with a vampire. We both were ungentlemanly enough to scan her superficially, but neither one of us wanted to try and penetrate far enough to see if she had the makeup needed to complete some other lucky bastard’s Circle. You know the rules as well as I do. Just because we, or any other vamp, can superficially read her mind doesn’t mean you will necessarily be able to.” Simeon nodded, knowing the truth of his friend’s words. “Indeed,” Alderic continued, “the fact you can’t read her mind speaks plainly for itself. But Gav and I decided her first night here we wouldn’t make her undertake a deeper psyche testing to see if she was compatible with any vampire in existence. We figured she had been through enough already, and left her fate in Destiny and Clare’s own hands.” Simeon wanted to ask more about what Alderic meant by Clare had already been through enough, but it would be the height of rudeness to ask. Simeon and everyone in most of the known galaxy knew that while vampires could graze anyone’s mind, and almost always read the thoughts, only a couple who had the potential to complete each other’s Soul’s Circle could not penetrate each other’s mind. Until the ritual was complete, that is. Any vampire could force his way far enough into a woman’s mind to see if she were compatible with a vampire, but often it caused damage and had been outlawed by the vampiric race for centuries. Vampires had long ago decided either a man, or woman, could search for their own mate, or simply wait for Fate. More often than not a pair who completed each other’s soul was simply drawn together through destiny and the hands of Fate anyway. So why bother to fight with it? “I think you might want to take her out for a bite to eat, young man.” Simeon snapped out of his scrambled thoughts by Alderic’s stern tone of voice. “You both have a lot of conversation ahead of you.” Simeon smiled wryly and managed, though with some difficulty, to rein in the anger and fierce surge of possessiveness he had felt at Alderic’s very casual mention of Clare being compatible to any other vampire. She was his. He knew it deep in his soul. Problem was, did she know or feel it? 73

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Simeon bowed respectfully to the elder vampire, catching the glint of humor and mischievousness in his eyes, and turned to leave the office. Out in the hallway he took a few deep, calming breaths before heading back down the hallway to meet Clare. Maybe Alderic was right, he mused silently to himself. Maybe a bit of a meal would ease along the conversation he needed to have with this odd woman he had never met and never even knew his father had hired to help him in the store. Simeon smiled as the perfect thought hit him. He could cook for her! Women liked men who cooked, right? No harm in trying to impress her a bit, particularly considering the way he had started off on the wrong foot and then had continued to insert that foot directly into his mouth. Rylan would laugh himself sick, Simeon felt sure, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to try and impress the lady. Besides, he had a feeling some of the things he needed to discuss with Clare would definitely need some decent food in both their bellies before he divulged it. He had no idea how a woman who couldn’t even operate a simple personal comp console any tot over the age of two could use with ease would deal with being told her soul could complete his and he wanted to merge the two together. Somehow he felt that wouldn’t go down particularly well. And Rylan, more than anyone, always stated a guy had to use every advantage he could. And at the moment, the only advantage Simeon could think of about himself was he could cook a decent meal, even if he didn’t exactly gorge himself like so many other human men he had witnessed at Scooper’s. He just hoped he could convince Clare of that now, as the only other thing he knew he could wow her with were some tricky bed moves he had learned over the years. He would rather keep those as his backup plan, so cooking for her it would be.

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Chapter Eight Clare sat frowning once again at the holo-screen. She knew she should try typing, doing her work. She should even be sitting here basking in her gratefulness that Simeon came by and showed her how to unlock the wretched machine. Yet instead of merrily clicking away as she really should be, she was trying hard not to think about the way he had smiled at her, the dark twinkle in his drop-dead-gorgeous brown eyes. Even before she had found herself somewhere over the rainbow, it had been an age since she had found herself so very turned on by any one man. Sure, she dated like most other single women her age, she even quite enjoyed the subtle game of getting-to-knowyou and cat-and-mouse most people involved themselves in. Yet it had been years since her knees had quivered, more years than she cared to contemplate since a single glance from a man, any man, had dampened her panties like Simeon had. What is it about him? she mused silently to herself, dropping any pretense of trying to work. She rested her chin on her bent hand and gazed blindly into space. Sure, the man was drop-dead make-you-come-with-barely-a-look gorgeous, but so were half the models in her Playgirl magazines, one of the few things she truly missed from home. She smiled as she could clearly picture each and every male model agency back home clamoring at Simeon’s door, begging for him to sign a contract. Sales would literally go through the roof on any damn thing he tried to sell with those warm, knowing eyes and that cheeky, cocky knowing smile he seemed to bestow upon her without a thought. She worried her lower lip, tried to drag her wayward thoughts back to where she wanted them. “I was thinking, Clare,” came his deep voice from behind her. She started, and turned around slowly, her hands flying to the papers she had wanted to enter into the database earlier this morning. “Really?” she said weakly, relieved to remember he said he couldn’t read her mind. She would simply die of mortification if he had even an inkling of how idolized and schoolgirl-horny her thoughts had been. “Did it hurt much? You really shouldn’t stretch yourself like that, you know. Overusing that brain of yours might be painful later on.” She cringed at the shaky but sarcastic humor in her voice. Way to boost yourself in his eyes, Clare, she silently chided herself. Insult the vampire’s intelligence like you would a university student stepping out of line. Way to go, girl!

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She felt herself relax infinitesimally as he laughed and didn’t take offense. There had been no heat, no real insult meant behind the words, it had been more a reflex stemming from embarrassment, but it didn’t mean it couldn’t have backfired horridly on her. “I do apologize for being harsh earlier, Clare,” Simeon said with aplomb. For a split second Clare envied him the way he could appear genuinely apologetic while still remaining proud and manly. How the hell did he manage that? “Let me make it up to you,” he continued, barely pausing for breath. “I’ll cook you some lunch.” Clare blinked and looked behind her, certain for a moment some evil futuristic twin had materialized and Simeon was asking her to lunch. Her surprise and shock must have shown in her eyes, as he smiled, the twinkle back in his dark, dark brown eyes. “Yes, you, Clare,” he said roguishly, his smile broadening. “Uh…” Clare couldn’t believe she was stammering for the second time today. She hadn’t stammered since her first day of elementary school. She blushed furiously when the sexy vampire took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them. “Have I really upset you so much?” he queried her, genuine concern in his voice. His eyes searched her face until they met her own eyes, and she could see worry in his brown depths. “It’s just an invitation to lunch, Clare,” he reassured her gently, “nothing too sinister, I hope.” The mere thought this man might think she was some weak, knock-kneed imbecile was enough to have Clare standing straight out of her chair. She reached around back for the light jacket she had slung there earlier in the morning. As Clare yanked the thin jacket on, she felt her courage and determination grow stronger with her every move. “You haven’t upset me at all, Simeon Montague,” she said fiercely, uncaring at the slight untruth in her words. He had unbalanced her, tossed her into a strange situation in what was already an alien world to her. He had not upset her as such, but neither did she feel as if she had the home advantage either. “I am rather hungry,” she added firmly. “I accept your cha—invitation.” She swallowed the word challenge, knowing he didn’t see the situation as so. But hearing the slight tinge of humor in his words, knowing his smile was not all innocent, but possibly faintly mocking her betrayal of nerves as well, gave her the necessary courage to more than face him. She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman well out of her element and so far, while she hadn’t exactly been slaying beasts and jumping into life with both feet, neither was she the sort of woman to cower and hide behind someone else’s back. Clare had never backed out of something to merely later regret it, and damned if she would start acting the wimp now. Besides, it is only lunch, she reassured herself with a smile. Maybe she just needed to talk to the man to see him for the doofus she sincerely hoped he was. Half the time that’s how her dates ended, anyway. A plethora of emails 76

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back and forth, a connection and initial friendship started, and then the meeting in person only to discover the man had wandering hands, or had only set up the groundwork for a quick fuck and then a casual goodbye, the next woman already lined up and ready to go. Maybe this man—this vampire, she corrected herself—was only attractive to her because the sex appeal he oozed attracted all women like the delicious jasmine-rose scent of that flower which had drawn her, only to catch and eat the insect back in the rec-park on that fateful first night. Seeing Simeon in a social setting might help her understand this whole new phenomenon in an entirely new manner. From the startled look on Simeon’s face he obviously hadn’t expected her to acquiesce either so quickly or so easily. Clare shrugged and headed toward the front door, turning back to indicate him to follow her. “Are we going?” she asked, a slight tinge of laughter in her voice. Simeon merely grinned, nodded and followed her to the door. He pressed his palm to the panel and opened the door to the street before she could. She smiled her thanks at the gentlemanly behavior and stepped onto the street outside. Clare tried really hard to ignore the warmth of the hand he gently placed at the small of her back as he led her in the direction he wanted her to go. For a number of minutes they walked together, easy in their silence. It wasn’t a heavy or oppressive silence between them but rather an almost casual absence of needing to fill the void with small talk. Clare looked about the streets they walked through, unable to place her finger on exactly why she felt so comfortable walking down the street in time with Simeon. Alderic had made certain to take her for a walk around the local neighborhood every day, to try and help her get her bearings, yet she had always felt so nervous and displaced wandering the strange streets. Yet walking next to Simeon just felt so right, the usual feeling of oppression, of not being able to breathe, of feeling panicky and upset didn’t seem to be happening today. Something just seemed to be perfectly right, and so she smiled, fully enjoying the differences in this world for the first time. Clare laughed silently and chided herself for thinking the difference was simply Simeon’s presence. Obviously she was finally growing used to this strange new world and her comfort levels had begun to increase as she had been hoping. “So how long have you been living with Gav and Alderic?” Simeon asked her, casting her a searching glance. “I hadn’t realized just how long it had been since I visited them at the Book Nook until I saw you there and had no idea who you were.” Clare smiled, watched the stalls they were passing. She enjoyed the heat of Simeon’s hand and arm as he gently guided her through the gathered crowd and out the other side.

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“I’ve been with them about three months now. Gav…found me, I suppose,” she frowned, not sure if that was the right way to put her, Gavreel and Alderic’s odd relationship. She owned that sometimes in her more depressing moments she felt partially like a stray dog or cat that had been taken in. Recalling the myriad friendly, caring things both Gav and Alderic had done for her, both vampires going to great pains to make sure she felt welcomed and cared for, she laughed and shook the silly thought from her head. As she laughed, Clare looked up into Simeon’s face and saw the flicker of confusion on his features. For the first time since she had found herself in this odd place, she truly felt like telling her story. How odd it was to feel compelled to tell her bizarre tale to a virtual stranger, she mused. “I have nowhere else really to go,” she started to explain. “Or nowhere I can find,” she added more truthfully. “Just dropping in out of thin air, huh?” Simeon bantered, his voice light and jovial, but his eyes searching. Clare shivered. Even for a vampire who insisted he couldn’t read her mind he seemed to know her startlingly well for roughly a ten-minute acquaintance. Clare stopped walking and looked at him. She wasn’t exactly a state secret of any description, but she was no longer quite so sure he would just blindly believe her. Hell, she had no idea if the roles were reversed if she would believe him simply because he was devastatingly gorgeous. “Hi there,” she imagined the conversation back on Earth would have gone, “I’m Simeon Montague, a vampire originating from the Planet Owanus and I’ve traveled through time from 2206 to come and be with you.” Clare snorted. Sure, if anyone had accosted her in the park on her way home from work one night and told her that, she’d have either screamed and run for her life, or run away while calling the local psychiatric clinic on her cell phone. Simeon merely waited patiently, happy for them to both stand there in the middle of the street while she debated with herself. Clare shrugged to herself. It wasn’t as if she needed Simeon’s approval or anything, so what the hell did she have to lose by being honest? “I don’t really understand how I got here,” she began, “but Gav seemed to think a tome I was taking home from the library where I worked thought I should be in this time and place, and it brought me here. I really have no idea of the mechanics behind it, as it makes a really lovely old book seem sentient or something, but that’s the truth in a nutshell. I’m from Earth, about two hundred years ago or so.” Clare shuddered slightly as the words rang in the air between them, sounding truly bizarre. She shook herself, her hair swinging in its long ponytail.

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“The original Earth,” she added almost as an afterthought, “that NewHope Earth was named after. I know this all sounds a little kooky—even for this bizarre place, but it makes as much sense as anything else I’ve managed to come up with. Because I really am here, and neither Gav nor Alderic had a clue how to get me back home.” She waited while she could visibly see Simeon try to digest this information she had handed him. The simple fact he tried to digest it, not simply call the national or galaxy security company, or the local cops, had her feeling even more warm toward him. If she had been home, and some kook had dropped in unannounced and declared himself to be from another time, or another planet, no matter how gorgeous he had been, she’d have thought him a nutcase. “A tome brought you here?” Simeon finally said, not exactly disbelieving, but more as if he wanted to confirm he understood her words. Clare shrugged, reminded herself of her mental image of herself running away screaming. Give the guy a chance, you idiot, she reminded herself. You’re asking him to possibly change his philosophy of life and the universe here, not just introducing him to some weird aunt no one acknowledges outside the family. “Does it sound any more weird to you than holographic screens?” she asked quietly. “Or computers in your watch? Or purple fake water supplies? Or —” “These things all sound weird to you?” he said, a laugh in his voice, but no longer with much disbelief. Clare looked over Simeon’s shoulder, not wanting to look at him as she said her piece. “I lived in the twenty-first century,” she reiterated. “This is the twenty-third century. Try wrapping your mind around that one, there’s literally a ton of stuff I am trying to pick up in a matter of months, not centuries.” Clare couldn’t help herself, she looked up into the darkest brown eyes she had ever seen. Simeon watched her, seemed to be wrestling with himself. Finally he simply smiled at her, took her hand in his much larger and warmer one and continued walking. “That sounds awfully like Gav,” he said, sounding almost cheerful, “to find and take in the only woman ever known of time traveling. From the twenty-first century, huh? You must tell me one day about the Beatles. Michael insists…well, that’s a different conversation. How rude of me to bombard you like that. Tell me about this tome instead.” Clare laughed happily, pleased and slightly stunned at Simeon’s easy acceptance of her and her background. “I presume the book was something musty and ancient if Gavreel was interested in it?” Simeon continued as he gently squeezed her hand and sent tingles up her arm. Clare enjoyed the sensation of a huge wash of not only relief, but also heat running through her for the first time since she had arrived. Sure, Gavreel and Alderic had believed her, but both men had almost seemed to know about the idiosyncrasies of the tome. She had just seemed to be an extra to them. 79

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Simeon had no reason to believe her, yet he seemed to genuinely trust her and her words. “That tome wasn’t musty at all,” she replied with a wide grin and her best “haughty librarian” tone. “We keep everything very well dusted back at the library.” Simeon snickered and Clare winked at him, enjoying the easy banter between them. “It was, I must admit,” she added, “very old and from what I read of it very detailed. I can see you must give your father hell for his love of books.” Clare felt her stomach turn over at the sound of Simeon’s deep laugh. “Oh, he gives us hell back,” the handsome vampire assured her. “We’re a close family. It’s one of the reasons I got so worried when he hadn’t contacted us for a while. But I digress. Tell me about this tome. Anything that can apparently bring beautiful women through time is a good thing, but surely you’d have wanted to go back to your own time?” Clare felt sad for a split moment, and then shrugged it away. “I don’t even know how the tome got me here in the first place. Gav, Alderic and I all tried really hard those first few days, tried everything we could think of to get me back home. Nothing worked.” Clare shrugged, the sadness and frustration, the faint tinges of panic she had felt those first few days almost nonexistent in her anymore. “Both Gav and Alderic read the tome cover to cover,” she added. “It’s just an ancient text of the history and civilization of vampires as well as much of their—I mean, your—folklore.” Clare waited to feel the struggle with her feelings of homesickness. Every time those first few weeks when Gav and Alderic had insisted she talk over and over, explaining what her world was like, what her life had been like, she had wanted to scream and cry, wanted to tear into something. She blinked, amazed she no longer felt the rending, shattering pain her strange journey here had previously caused. Sure, she still felt an ache inside her chest, knowing she would never meet up with her few friends, never see her small apartment or her brightly colored potted plants again. But the feeling of utter desolation and despair no longer haunted her. Clare felt a huge grin cross her face, pleased beyond everything she finally was coming to grips with her dislocation. Before she could laugh or start to sing her joy and pleasure she noticed Simeon was leading her to a small garden, built on the side of an old-looking structure. Faux red brick, slightly crumbled and looking almost like a building back home, instantly made her feel soothed, far more at peace than she had felt in her previous three months. “I’ve taken us the long way back to my lodgings,” he confided with a grin. “This is considered the ‘old’ division of the city. It only holds a few crumbly structures with an ‘old-world’ feel, but I thought you might enjoy it.”

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Clare looked around. While she still evidently was not back at home on Earth, she could well believe this small block of houses and gardens was the closest facsimile on the planet, if not in the galaxy. Just as she was about to give him her thanks, Simeon interrupted her. “I figured even if this didn’t make you feel better, the garden and water feature always soothes me when I’m upset.” Clare felt her heart melt a little. She grinned as Simeon led them both to a bench near the small fountain. She sat down next to Simeon and regretted for a second the loss of the warmth his hand. Clare clasped her hands together to remind herself not to reach for this vampire. She felt a deep desire to retake his hand in hers, but she didn’t want to appear too bold, or worse, desperate. Instead, she watched entranced, as he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it beautifully. He continued speaking, and Clare had trouble keeping her burgeoning feelings under control. “I hope you don’t mind about the delay here, but I just got the feeling you might want a bit of time to chat before we get back to my lodgings.” Clare blushed slightly, hoped the mind block between them extended enough to keep her growing sexual attraction secret from the vampire. She watched the fountain for a moment, the sun shimmering on the pale violet-blue water substitute. She remembered her confusion at Simeon telling Alderic how he couldn’t read her mind. She tried to form her question, and then decided just to talk through it, hoping she wouldn’t commit a social faux pas. “Look, I’m just going to apologize up front here. I’m not meaning to be rude or overly inquisitive, but neither am I sure if I’m following whatever rules of etiquette you have.” Clare took a deep breath, refusing to blush or stammer when Simeon merely raised his eyebrow again, obviously trying not to laugh at her stilted wording and phrasing. Likely he was now far more intrigued by what she wanted to say than she had meant to make him. “I’m just curious,” she started again, clenching her hands tightly together, “I know that vampires can read minds. I also know that both Gav and Alderic have tried really hard to show me some privacy, but yet particularly those first few days when I was just so out of my depth they said it was like my emotions and thoughts were just shouting at them. They had to make a concentrated effort to not read my mind. Yet, you told Alderic that you couldn’t read my mind at all.” Clare took a deep breath then looked back from the soothing water feature to the vampire. The very slight breeze toyed with a few strands of his hair, all perfectly straight, if only slightly mussed. Clare squeezed her fingers more tightly together, resisting the urge to run her hands through those strands to prove to herself just how silky they were. 81

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Instead of helping her, however, Simeon merely raised an eyebrow and smiled. She knew he wasn’t reading her mind, the few times either Gav or Alderic had touched her mind she had been able to feel them. She recalled it felt uncomfortable, but not exactly painful. Like soft fingers pressing against her skull, her brain, trying to gain entry. It wasn’t the act of mental penetration she worried about, it was the thought of Simeon being able to read her every thought that had her queasy with nerves. She felt nothing, plus she was firmly holding the image of a wall in her mind, a tall, impossibly tight wall. Even though she knew it would take months, if not years, of practice to really create an impenetrable fortress in her mind, she knew she would be able to tell if this vampire were touching her mind, reading her thoughts and worries. He mightn’t be trying to read her mind, yet he wasn’t going to make this conversation any easier on her either. Clare frowned, gnawed on her lower lip again. “You could try and help me out here,” she teased lightly. “I know I’m trying really hard to block you, to not let my uneasiness bug you, but I just don’t understand—” She blinked and stopped what she had been going to say when Simeon merely snorted at her. “I can’t penetrate your mind. At all. You can be as uneasy or project to me as much as you like. With you, my dear, I’m driving blind.” Clare felt her stomach drop again as the ramifications of his words hit home with the sudden recollection of her first reading the vampiric tome. “You can’t read my mind?” she repeated with panic. “Not at all? Wait! I’ll get rid of my mind block…” She felt her hands shake slightly as he laughed, with no sound of humor. She remembered vividly how, in the tome she had read seemingly forever ago, it had stated the main sign of a partner to a vampire was that their mind was impenetrable. She blinked again, completely thrown by what this could mean. Her mind simply could not wrap itself around the thought. Instead of panicking, she clasped her hands together again, more tightly now, determined not to show any signs of weakness to him. “Your mind block is there, darling,” Simeon replied gently, “but it’s nowhere even close to being enough to stop me if I wanted to. It’s your innate ability that is stopping me.” Clare stood up in a rush. The tranquil water feature, the gorgeous sigh of almost familiar green trees and shrubs, the soothing atmosphere all suddenly seemed an utter waste of time. Upset, she spoke louder than she meant to, causing a couple sharing shots of some green-looking liquid on the other side of the street in an outside café to look at her oddly.

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“I have no innate ability!” she screeched, wincing at the almost desperate, cracking cadence of her voice. Lowering her voice, forcing herself to get a grip, Clare took one deep breath and made herself calm down somewhat. Hysterics would not help her any. “This is so not happening,” she softly chanted to herself. “Gavreel could read my mind, Alderic could read my mind,” she continued at a more normal tone. “I think there’s something wrong with you,” Clare scrambled blindly for any other explanation, “or maybe you’re just not trying hard enough. This is not going to happen. I’m just…me. That’s all! Not some bizarre half souled-circle woman.” Clare took a deep breath, pivoted on one foot and stalked out of the garden. Even though she had no real idea of where she was, at this moment anywhere was preferable than considering she might be able to complete this vampire’s Soul’s Circle. She had no problems with Simeon whatsoever. She would even seriously enjoy having a fling or an affair with him. But right at the back of her head, buried deep under her stubbornness and pride, under her fear, she had plans of going home, returning back to her own time and place. She had no clue about how she would get there, and no real way of knowing even if she could. But deep in her soul, she knew the second she became attached to this vampire, if she completed his soul, merged her own with his, there was no way in hell she could even have the chance of getting back to her normal life. She felt her shoulders slump in defeat as she could feel Simeon come up beside her, take her hand gently once again in his own. His hand felt so big, his palm and the arm he slung casually around her shoulder felt solid, warm, real. For a slim moment Clare could genuinely believe the rest of this crazy world was but a dream, and Simeon and she were the only real things inside it. Clare walked in silence, grateful beyond measure Simeon didn’t talk, and just let her thoughts wander. She took a number of deep, clear breaths and was perfectly frank and honest with herself for the first time since she had looked up to see an alien landscape in front of her eyes. She had nothing to go back “home” to. Her apartment was rented, and likely out to someone else now. Her job—much as she loved it—was not exactly earth-shatteringly important. No one would really mourn her loss. To be brutally honest, while she missed the monthly girls’ night out drinking, or the odd emails and phone calls from her few scattered friends, she wasn’t exactly sobbing her heart out over not being able to see her friends anymore. She missed having female companionship, and she hated feeling like she was from another time and place, but she had adjusted far better and easier than she could possibly have believed or guessed.

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Clare hadn’t realized until just that moment just how deeply she had harbored the hope of returning home. Until just then returning home had been a wistful hope, not a bone-deep, driving need. Merely the knowledge she might not be able to have the choice of returning had sent her in a blind panic, but Clare wondered if it were more the lack of choice that had panicked her, and not the loss of her homeland. Not that she had ever been a particularly contrary creature, but the absence of a choice often made one desperate for anything that wasn’t being forced, she rationalized. Almost all of her small number of friends either had such important and obsessive careers they only really gathered together for the monthly girls’ night out, or they had their own partner and children to worry about and rarely even made it to the night out. Clare smiled wryly. Likely most of her “friends” hadn’t even noticed her absence in the last few months. And so why the need to escape? she questioned herself silently. Surely here was as good as anywhere else? Clare sighed again, a deep sound coming straight from her soul. “Share your thoughts?” the soft masculine voice tempted her. Clare glanced at the handsome man whose arm was wrapped around her. She hadn’t even noticed, but she seemed to be leaning in to him very slightly. In less than an hour, he had shown a lot more caring and compassion toward her than almost anyone she had ever known. Only Gavreel and Alderic had showered her with similar attention. And this was Gavreel’s son, she reminded herself. And so she started talking, slowly at first, but once she had begun, the words simply seemed to pour from her. She talked about her life back on Earth. She explained how depressing it was to realize there wasn’t really very much to return home to—no real friends, and no real family, not even a pet to miss her strange passing. When she saw a flicker of pity in Simeon’s eyes, she laughed. “Oh no,” she reassured him, “I’m not some pathetic loser who wept into her comforter every evening, waxing poetic about love lost and love to come.” Clare laughed at the thought of her weeping every night in the solace of her bed. She had felt dissatisfied with her work and to a lesser extent of the rut she had been in, yes. But been upset or depressed? Certainly not! “I quite enjoyed the bar scene every now and then,” she confided with a cheeky grin, “and I managed to find a surprising number of men eager to have no-stringsattached flings. But when I found myself here and the road to get back home wasn’t easily found, and to all appearances would never really be found, Gav warned me it might not be easy…” Clare simply trailed off and shrugged. She tried to order her thoughts coherently so she could get her meaning across to Simeon.

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“Why go to so much effort and angst to get back home,” she started again slowly, “when likely I can find an equal amount of happiness here than I could back there? Okay, so libraries as I know them are a thing of the past, but there is plenty of work with Gav and Alderic, who seem to genuinely enjoy my efforts. Besides, everyone I have come into contact with through the Book Nook has been wonderfully patient and understanding while I’ve learned the ropes, and continue to do so.” Clare shrugged again not really sure what else to say. She didn’t want to try the tricky and highly contradictory explanation of how while Earth had been all she had ever known and her very comfortable and much-loved home—after ending up here and getting over the shock that followed, she had always instinctively known she could be just as happy here as on her lost home world. “I’ll get used to it all,” she concluded with certainty, “and honestly, in large part I think I have settled in quite well already. I’m thinking about maybe traveling interplanet next year sometime.” Clare grinned at Simeon as he looked slightly startled, but simultaneously proud and interested. She was about to talk more about some of the destinations she had been cautiously researching recently, but Simeon turned them both down a side street and led her up to a blue building. She watched, deeply intrigued as he pressed his palm on the side panel, which caused the large, heavy and ornate-looking door to open. Simeon stood back gallantly, allowing her to enter ahead of him. As Clare stepped over the threshold of the huge dwelling, she could feel an uncanny sense of peace, and an incredibly strong atmosphere of “coming home” settled around her as she entered the warm hallway. “I certainly can’t swear my brothers will be patient,” Simeon said hesitantly, “or give you any time to adjust to their zillion-and-one questions, but with luck we won’t bump into them just now. Let’s go through to my quarters and I’ll cook you up something hot and filling.” Clare brought her mind back to the task at hand and found herself looking wistfully at him. For just a split second, the sense of peace and homecoming had been so strong, so overpowering she could have sworn she had momentarily woken up from a dream to find herself back at her little apartment. “I bet you don’t have steak and potatoes, do you?” she asked with a sigh, already knowing the answer would be no. Steak, she had discovered, had become obsolete nearly a hundred years ago, and potatoes were now manufactured, not grown in soil. She felt her breath catch at the twinkle in his eye. In that instant, he turned from a patient, kindly bloke into an impish rogue. Once again Clare felt her heartbeat accelerate and her breath hitch. “I feel confident I can rustle up something to tempt you, my dear.” Smiling wickedly, letting an answering glint enter her eyes, Clare let the vision of her stripping the green shirt from Simeon’s chest enter her head. Enjoying the heated 85

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rush of her blood singing through her veins as well as the first truly entertaining fantasy her imagination had come up with on this new planet, she continued the fantasy. Clare felt her blood sing and pump hotly through her body as she built up the fantasy, the image of herself spreading Simeon’s dark green shirt over and down each of his shoulders, revealing a wide, lightly muscled chest with small, hard, dark brown nipples. She imagined the sense of accomplishment and hunger she would feel as she unveiled his chest to her ravenous gaze. She idly wondered if he would have any hair over his chest or not, or whether his skin would be dark, or the same lightly tanned shade of his face and forearms. Letting her imagination run free, she then let the fantasy of herself bending forward to lick his nipple glide through her head, as her hand would fall down to the fastening of his pants. She would close her mouth over the taut nipple, and suck hard as she— She felt her mind snap back to attention as Simeon audibly gasped. Her eyes came back into focus and she looked up at him. His dark eyes were almost completely obscured by his enormous pupils, dilated with what she could only believe was an intense passion. Clare frowned in confusion, as Simeon appeared stunned and so utterly aroused she simply couldn’t explain why. She felt a flicker of doubt and uncertainty pass through her, making her vastly uncomfortable. Simeon had said he couldn’t read her mind. Had he lied to her? “I can’t read your mind,” he said hoarsely, making her even more suspicious. She crossed her arms over her chest as he held up a hand placatingly. “Honestly, Clare,” he insisted, “it’s obvious that’s what you are wondering right now, that’s not nuclear physics. What I don’t believe you know yet is that you, as a woman who can complete my Soul’s Circle, are able to plant your own visions into my mind. Since you had such a basic mind block, and come from the past, and I thought had no knowledge of the humans’ innate, slight psychic ability, it wasn’t something I had thought to warn you about.” A dozen questions raced through her mind, all jostling for her attention. She opened her mouth, trying to sort out which order to ask her thoughts and begin to satisfy her curiosity, yet she stopped when Simeon gently took her arm and started to lead her down one of the corridors. “Let’s go upstairs first, hey?” he said with a suspicious hoarseness to his voice. “Trust me, darling, I have just as many questions as you do but I really would prefer we don’t encounter my twin or my elder brother right now.” Clare nodded and docilely allowed him to lead her for now. As he led her through a few twisting corridors she found that, much like Gavreel and Alderic’s place, the interior of the house, or lodgings as they called them, was deceptively larger than the appearance first given from the outside. How she would love to understand this architecture, she mused for a moment. 86

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As Simeon led her through yet another corridor, Clare tried to order her thoughts and work out her confused jumble of emotions. She licked her lips, and with her customary brutal honesty admitted how much she enjoyed the thrill of power she felt with this vampire. As Simeon led them both to a set of stairs, winding upward almost as if from a fairy tale, Clare looked deeply into his handsome face, and felt herself begin to drown in the depths of his eyes. Simeon, she knew with a shattering certainty after such a short period of time, would never push her, or abuse her lack of knowledge about this world. She could tell strongly through her ever-growing intuition that he would be patient and kind and very likely treat her as a princess. Clare knew she could trust her instincts, as she had needed these last few months to fully rely on her gut feelings and her practically unused intuition. Clare had come to fully respect her own inner consciousness and she seriously doubted it would be wrong now after nearly three months of being almost exclusively correct. Whereas back home one was supposed to rely on facts and knowledge and referenced material, here in this new world, instinct and a “higher understanding” was not only par for the course, but was basically accepted as the norm. Taking a deep breath, and settling the nerves in her stomach, Clare followed Simeon up the stairs as he led her “to his quarters”. Clare smiled as she realized that Simeon walking in front of her was a mighty fine way to help her nerves and slight uncertainty. She stared at his ass and tried her best to refrain from fantasizing or projecting anymore. If she couldn’t tell when she was projecting her fantasies to him, then she wanted to get a handle on that previously unknown talent before she opened her mind and soul to him too much more. Even if Simeon Montague had one delectably fine ass that more than deserved a few measly fantasies. Biting gently into all the delicious muscle and seeing how it affected the huge bulge in the front of his pants might even be worth a bit of soul sharing. When she noticed Simeon’s shoulders hunch slightly she wondered if even that small amount of mental fantasizing was enough to project to him. But he continued walking and didn’t turn around so Clare thought she might have gotten away with it that time. No man had ever been privy to her most secret and deepest fantasies, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to project too much of them toward Simeon, simply because she couldn’t control herself. Even if he had the lightly toned, muscled body of a god she really didn’t want to let themselves get carried away and have one of his brothers walk down a hall and bump into them. Clare tried hard to think of something else. She idly wondered what Simeon would cook for her. She genuinely was hungry now, breakfast seeming positively an age ago. Food might be the safest topic of conversation to start with. 87

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Wrestling the large vampire to his bed and playing with his nipples, sucking his large, thick cock down her throat and then riding him hard was not necessarily the smartest or safest way for them to work out this odd… Clare found herself smiling as she hesitated, tried to describe even to herself whatever it was that lay between them. It really seemed way too early and premature to describe the heat and fantasies between them as a relationship. Was it possible to even have a relationship in under an hour knowing of one another? Clare stifled the giggles that threatened to rise in her throat and tried to concentrate on watching the faint wiggle in Simeon’s ass, and leave herself open and trusting in whatever was to come.

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Chapter Nine Simeon tried to discreetly adjust the material of his pants while simultaneously moving his aching hard-on into a more comfortable position as he walked up the stairs. Under normal circumstances this might not have been so difficult, but doing so today with the iron-ore hardness of his cock, as well as his vain, gentlemanly attempt to not alert Clare to what he was trying made things a whole new and completely different game. It would have been the understatement of the century to comment that he had been taken aback by the sexy fantasy Clare had unknowingly shared with him. It hadn’t only been the crystal clarity of her mental pictures, nor the surprisingly accurate details of the intimate fantasy she had so innocently shared with him, but he had been particularly pleased and taken aback by the sheer force of the heat and enormous level of lustful hunger behind her musings and daydream. He had never before experienced the closeness of a telepathic bond one could share with a lover or partner. There were harsh penalties for penetrating a human’s mind, and almost every member of the human race learned from the cradle how to protect themselves anyway. Simeon himself had never met a human who didn’t have an iron-strong block, and most other races also had inbuilt protection from telepathy. He now could understand how close and special this link he could share with his mate was. He had to admit, if only to himself for now, he really, truly thought it fantastic and now could better appreciate what a small number of his friends had talked about in such reverent tones. Often, particularly during the sexual marathons he had experienced during his previous heat stages as his telepathy was even stronger than usual, he had indulged in some telepathic sex with the consent of his partner. It had completely blown his mind, and invariably made him hard as granite when he thought back to the incredible, decadent indulgence of it. Yet words failed him as he tried to think of how to describe the even more powerful feeling of awe and intimacy he had experienced when Clare had shared her fantasy. Even including the fact it had been relatively tame as fantasies went, it had given him the biggest boner of his long life. He found it even more ironically amusing he had to try desperately hard to shield his thoughts as they climbed up to where his lodgings were. Most women were adamant about a vampire sharing his thoughts, as they were able to, and many women needed the sense of power and control that could give them.

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Simeon felt pleased that Clare didn’t want to know exactly what whirled around his mind, but at the same time he worried about her naïveté. He grimaced to himself as he silently acknowledged the honestly bizarre mixture of protectiveness and lust he felt for this amazing woman. As he reached the top of his staircase he wiped at the thin trickle of sweat that dotted his brow. It had been all he could do to not react to her fantasy about nibbling— hell, even biting—his ass. Simeon had thought he’d done pretty much everything a guy and a girl could do together, and he had sure as hell had a lover bite tenderly into his flesh before. Yet everything seemed somehow new with Clare, more innocent. She had been admiring his ass one moment, and fantasizing about biting it the next. He couldn’t understand how that seemed sexy and innocent at the same time, but there you had it. Simeon had no idea how tightly he held on to his control, nor how easily it might slip, and he really did want to give Clare a bit of time to get used to him and the need he very soon would have of her. More worrying—if his twin was waiting for a firsthand report on the Book Nook, it was highly likely Rylan was still inside his section of the lodgings. Simeon certainly felt no desire to mentally go searching for his twin, as even a tiny tug on their mental bond would likely have Rylan searching for him. If his twin caught even the faintest whiff of how hot he was in the presence of this woman, the teasing would begin. But worse, his brother would never leave him and Clare alone without either serious bribing or serious bait. Simeon wasn’t sure exactly where his innate knowledge had come from, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he needed some time alone with Clare. He tried to tell himself he wanted the time to discover more about her and ease them both into what he knew, deep in his soul and mind, he needed to do. Although he cringed at the thought of how annoyed Clare might be when she fully understood, he knew he had to do it with a growing certainty every second he passed in her presence. Besides which, the hunger—the deep, raging ache far down inside his gut—echoed throughout his soul. He needed her more and more with every breath and it would certainly only get a lot worse before it started to ease up. Simeon unlocked his lodging door with a slightly shaking, sweaty palm. He smiled sardonically to himself, for once feeling exceedingly grateful he had refrained from allowing Michael to talk him into the newer technology of heat-sensitive palm locks. While he admitted freely to usually enjoying the latest gadgetry, as well as the usual masculine curiosity and interest in the still growing technology, he had not felt it necessary to update his own personal lodgings with the newer switch. At this moment in time, he knew he would seriously think twice in the future about blindly updating with the newest and latest.

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Today, for example, he would not have been given admittance into his rooms as he felt certain his palms were not their usual, steady temperature. With the manner in which he sweated and the utter lack of control he had over himself and his body temperature, he knew there wasn’t a chance throughout the five hells that he would have been able to unlock his rooms. That would have called for finding one of his siblings to unlock the door, which meant they would have been inundated with a litany of curious questions, and much longer conversations and explanations about who Clare was and what she was to him. He had neither the patience nor desire to go into either one right now. Not to mention the beginnings of years’ worth of teasing, taunts and sly reminders of how he hadn’t even been able to bring his mate into his quarters without the help of his brothers. It was an indignity he could well live without. Breathing a huge sigh of relief as the door slid back, he politely stood aside to let Clare in first, feeling his temperature skyrocket as she innocently and likely unknowingly grazed past his ever-hardening body. Following her, he quickly punched in the codes to change the keypad to exclude both his brothers. He knew it was only a short-term measure, as both Rylan and Michael with time and determination could eventually override his commands if they so desired, but Simeon felt strongly about needing some time and space alone with Clare. He wanted them to both work out whatever the five hells was happening between them, and the easiest way he could see that happening was the two of them simply being together and unhassled for a few short hours. He smiled as Clare made a beeline for his bookshelves. If he had paused to think about it, then that would have been exactly what he would have guessed she would do. Literature choices certainly told a lot about a person and their tastes, and to an extent, their habits. He smiled as he wondered what she would think of his vastly eclectic tastes as he headed for the cookery. He had everything there, from the latest holo-book thrillers and spy novels, to ancient tomes of otherworldly civilizations, to all forms of literary erotica as well as trashy techno-geek holo-zines. He truly had such a wide range of tastes and interests that he had built up quite a collection over the years. “I’ll just be through here, in the cookery,” he said as he entered the other room. “Feel free to browse while I start things up.” He felt surprised when she cast one more quick but hard glance over his titles then turned to follow him. He felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled brightly at him as she followed behind where he led. “That’s okay,” she said cheerily, “I can snoop around more later. I noticed you have a huge range of titles, which I hope you can show me more of later. I’m currently more interested in watching you cook. Alderic just places things in a wall unit and they come 91

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out looking perfect—on the plate and everything. I’ve tried cooking a few times,” she added with a sheepish grin, “but everything is just so very different—nothing has worked like I expected or thought it should. So I do hope you’re planning on showing off for me.” Simeon smiled, rolled up his sleeves and went to the wall unit to cleanse his hands. Clare’s bubbly happiness seemed almost infectious in its sincerity. He hadn’t smiled so much in he couldn’t figure out how long. Her whole face and demeanor lit up with her enthusiasm; anyone would have to have been made from iron not to feel caught up with her. “I’d love to show off for you, dearheart,” he insisted happily, startled to feel a thrill of contentment run right through his whole body. He dried his hands and turned back around to face her. “Pull up a seat,” he said cheerily as he thought ahead to what he could create to truly enslave her senses and chain her to his cooktop. He nodded, indicated the chair beside the bench. He felt his grin split wider as Clare looked around her and finally pulled the stool out from the bench and sat down on it. Simeon found himself embracing the heat he felt for her, let himself become more comfortable with and almost used to the burning desire he felt for this woman. He turned around again, back to the cooling unit, and began to rummage through it. He had no idea yet what exactly he looked for, but as he cast his eyes over the plethora of food items stocked neatly he realized he wanted to find any and all old-style foods he or maybe Rylan had ferreted away. Simeon knew it would be impossible to make a truly “standard” meal to her old method of cooking, but he also knew with the right ingredients and a dash of luck and creativity he could make a fairly decent facsimile of it. His mind was busily ticking over ancient recipes he remembered from his babyhood in the late twentieth century, and attempted to balance those memories and recipes in conjunction with the foods he was pulling out. Simeon realized he was muttering incoherently to himself and cast a quick glance at Clare who watched his every move with eager anticipation. He racked his brain, trying to remember things he had learned in his youth when he had harbored a secret, desperate love for cooking in many different styles. So deeply was he in his own thoughts and plans it came as a complete shock to feel the same feminine, heated mental fingers caress his soul and mind, which he had felt earlier from Clare. His erection, which had by no means subsided, but which neither had he thought about for a record of maybe a minute or two, became once again painfully tight. The crystal clear, perfect mental image of his ass as he bent slightly in front of the cooling unit entered his head, but with a decidedly feminine twist. Simeon swallowed hard, determined to at least try and keep control of himself.

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At least this time she was fantasizing about him with his pants on, he decided wryly. He also found it intriguing it wasn’t the sight of his own ass which had him so hot under the collar. It was the lust and hunger, the deep, almost unknowing burning which Clare felt for him and subconsciously projected so clearly to him which had him nearly crawling out of his skin with hunger to feel and reciprocate. The same hunger, beating at him and twisting his guts up, had him finding the always rock-solid control over his baser instincts begin to slip a little. Simeon gritted his teeth and forced his mind away from the feminine hunger invading it and back to the recipes he had been sifting through a moment ago. Desperately trying to block her from his mind, he made a snap decision and pulled out the packets of ingredients he needed and he began to rifle in the cupboards for the utensils he would be using. He didn’t understand how a virtual telepath-innocent could manage to so clearly project the erotic images to him, particularly without her conscious approval. Gavreel had taught all his sons from the cradle how to erect the mental barriers that help keep all vampires and other telepaths out of each other’s minds and thus, keep them sane. How could one simple human woman—from the far distant past, no less—manage to penetrate his mind with her erotic fantasies? Without even knowing she did it or how to do it? Simeon felt his curiosity overwhelm him as he felt the delicate fingers of Clare’s newest fantasy image hover on the edges of his mind. Swallowing, resigning himself to his curiosity and sheer inability to have any form of barriers between himself and Clare, he opened his mind slightly to her newest unconscious offering. He saw an image of himself, now butt naked, mixing something in the mixing bowl he really did now hold in his hands. Simeon nearly dropped everything cradled in his arms as he looked down to the simple faux-earthenware bowl. The carnal sexuality of her vision utterly stunned him, and for the first time ever he felt his knees weaken as his desires and his sense of responsibility warred fiercely within him. He could barely believe Clare found something as simple as him cooking for her seriously erotic. Erotic enough she would share visions of taking him into her mouth as he mixed something unknown in the damn bowl he knew he could never look at in the same way ever again. Simeon swallowed hard as the image of Clare lifting herself up on her knees so she could take the red-hot head of his cock into her mouth seared across his mind. He tried desperately hard to mentally pull away from her, so he would not lose the last threads of his control and take her fiercely, right there and right now on his hard, cold floor. He knew Clare understood what she did to him on some level, but he didn’t think she really understood just how close to the edge he walked. When her heated fantasy changed perspective, so the image of her hands delicately flexing into the naked cheeks 93

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of his ass burned into his mind, Simeon felt helpless as the heat he had been desperately trying to contain roared out of control and flowed through his veins like a blazing inferno. He swiveled around, his eyes burning into Clare as she sat on the stool—looking for all the world like an innocent. When she caught his gaze, her eyes widened. “Oh!” she exclaimed in genuine shock, “I didn’t mean to—” Without even consciously deciding what he would do, he dropped everything he had gathered in his arms onto the bench, utterly uncaring what fell and broke or split open. In two long strides he stood in front of her. He reached out and grabbed her arm, gently but firmly pulling her warm, soft and womanly body flush against his own aching and hard frame. He dipped his head down to meet hers, the desperate craving to touch her lips with his more important than explanations or mere words could possibly do justice. Even so, Simeon found himself wanting this first real kiss between them to be gentle and controlled. He wanted this for her sake, not just for his own very real need to keep himself under control. Keeping a close watch on her reactions and the trembling through her body, Simeon lightly pressed his lips over Clare’s. Simeon felt a gigantic wave of sensuality and satisfaction roll over and straight through him as Clare responded immediately to the gentle press of his lips. She replied hungrily and immediately by grabbing his shoulders and drawing him nearer to the overheated warmth of her body. She nibbled gently but enticingly on his lower lip, causing him to moan in approval. He could feel the strength of her emotions, her need, beat against the edge of his mind. Her curiosity and desire hands down won his personal award for the most potent of aphrodisiacs he had ever encountered. She was the most curious mixture of blatant sexuality and utter naïveté he had ever come across, and rather than turning him off or making him hesitant, as most innocents would, it fired him even more than the most professional of escorts ever could hope to achieve. Needing more of her lips and caresses like he needed the air to breathe, Simeon lifted her into his arms and carried them to his bedroom, a thankfully short walk across the room and down the hall. Clare felt herself being lifted into Simeon’s strong arms. The security, warmth, and most importantly of all, the depth of feeling she could feel positively radiating from the vampire in whose arms she lay cuddled, had her senses giddy and lightheaded with happiness.

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In that instant she felt her heart cave in, and any last vestige of her resistance dissipated like fog in the sunlight. How could a vampire be hot, sexy, sappily romantic and still gentle and soothing all at the same time? Clare knew beyond a doubt Simeon was merely reacting to her naughty thoughts— which she had to admit to purposely teasing him with. She had been able to feel his rock-solid control, and it intrigued her. In contrast to his complete control over himself and his reactions, she could also sense the depth of his desire for her. She knew he felt a deep, burning desire to pull her into him and have their lusts burn through them both, incinerating them together. Somewhere between starting the walk up his stairs and reaching the top she had decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and just jump in. For once in her life she could live daringly, pretend she was one of the heroines in the cheesy romantic and erotic novels she had always secretly indulged in. She smiled against the hard press of Simeon’s lips as he continued their kiss as he carried her somewhere, most likely the bedroom. Even now, she could feel him try to retain his control and not eat her alive, or fuck her ‘til they both fell down. Clare could feel the strength of his desire, and in that moment she knew she would let herself free-fall as she never had before. She knew she would do anything with him and to him, let him do anything to her in return. Clare struggled to put words to the passion, the intense excitement she could feel coursing through her veins. She almost felt as if she were wrapped in a soap bubble, or maybe caught in the middle of a romantic pop song. She could hear the zinging intensity flare and soar between them, their mutual lust and attraction. The raging heat built and threatened to explode between them both. With their lips fused together she could feel and read Simeon’s intent and wildly running thoughts as clearly as if they were in text in front of her very eyes. He wanted her passionately, desperately, a craving deep in his blood and psyche. It was as if she was some wickedly cool designer drug, and he a complete addict more than desperate for his next fix. Clare felt a womanly thrill pass through her she had never experienced before. She had never known any man to feel such a deep desire all on a few scattered kisses and a tiny bit of conversation and teasing. She smiled as Simeon hungrily nibbled on her lower lip. If she weren’t so worried about him and the strangely red haze of lust and need she could so easily sense inside him, she felt absolutely certain she would have a swollen head from his unintentional compliments on her massive sex appeal to him. Even so, she could feel her face flush red-hot with her need for him. For a split second she wondered if she had been struck by the same red haze of heat she knew swirled inside him. She had a feeling this internal heat had created the need he held for her, but a moment later after touching his mind she threw the worry aside.

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While the heat inside Simeon might be pushing him along, she could not ignore the true, real need for her she felt deep inside his soul. Mixed in with the passion and need, she could feel the—she searched a moment for a more accurate word to describe the emotion she could sense in him—heat was the only word she could find to come close. She smiled as she understood it was almost as if he had a fever, deep within his blood and rocketing through his body. She remembered perfectly well reading about how vampires could not get sick or carry diseases, one of the cooler aspects of their different genetic makeup, but more importantly she remembered snippets from the tome she had inadvertently brought over, detailing a vampire going into heat. She remembered reading of weeklong sexual escapades, orgies and sexual odysseys, all of which had sounded exceedingly cool in print, but faced with the reality, Clare had a feeling she would literally be chafing after a couple of hours with this man. She could feel his needs, could easily reach out and touch his hunger and almost unequaled thirst for sexual completion. As she was so gently laid onto the enormous bed, covers already pulled back, she reached out a hand to gently remove his shirt. Simeon simply sat there next to her, breathing deeply and trying to regain control over himself. Clare smiled, feeling wild and free. She had never experienced anything like this before, and damned if she would back down now. “It’s okay,” she whispered softly to him, rising up onto her knees to better unclothe him. “I can feel your need. I actually find it rather sexy, as well as an impressive compliment to my own sexiness. I haven’t felt this needed or wanted…well…ever, really. So don’t worry, I’m with you on this.” “I just can’t move us too fast,” he panted as he toed his shoes off and began ripping his socks from his feet. “I need you to understand—” “I know about vampires in heat,” she panted, wishing they could just get into it. Even with impatience riding her hard though, she smiled to hear Simeon wanting to help her, protect her. It was incredibly sweet, just misplaced when all she wanted was to feel him thrusting deep inside her, hot and hard. “I doubt I’ll last more than a few rounds,” she said in resignation, quickly shrugging off the faint regret at even her usually insatiable hungers eventually being worn through, “but as long as you know to stop when I insist, I truly think this will all work out perfectly for us both.” Clare smiled as she finally managed to remove Simeon’s shirt, unveiling a truly droolworthy chest and abs, oh-so-lightly sprinkled with dark, dark brown hair, almost the same shade as framing his face. “Do you know about the ritual?” he said carefully, a harsh, needing quality casting a darker edge to his voice. Clare tilted her head to the side and, as she reached out one unsteady hand, brushed a few strands of hair away from his face to tuck behind his ear. She felt curious, but unconcerned at Simeon’s reference to “the ritual”. 96

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While she wanted to ask questions, since she frankly had no idea about what “ritual” he thought suddenly was so important, she pushed it all to the back of her mind for the moment. The researcher inside her had piqued with inquiring questions, but as she could feel his need become wild, almost feral as his control slipped more and more with each second that passed, Clare decided she would far rather live in the moment than ask stupid questions about some ritual Simeon wanted to explain to her. In a blinding flash of realization, she knew without a doubt she didn’t care about whatever it was that would come. Ritual or no. She still wasn’t completely convinced she had been brought here into this odd time and place for this, a couple of utterly wild rides with a vampire in the sack. But by the same token, why the hell not enjoy the trip while she could? For all she knew she could get struck by lightning and sent home instantaneously by some freak act of the Goddess in an hour’s time. Clare wriggled in the softness of the truly huge bed, and managed to strip off her top and pants in seconds. Shoes and socks went flying unheeded to the floor as she reached for Simeon’s pants. “I don’t care anymore,” she stated slowly, clearly and emphatically. She willed him to understand and sense her genuine, free choice and the firmness of her opinion for the whole matter. “Let’s just do this before we both self-combust, and worry about everything else later,” she stated firmly, hoping to bring an end to his hesitation. As she pulled his pants down, freeing a truly impressive shaft, desire overwhelmed her with a fierceness she had never felt anything like ever before. Clare couldn’t tell if it was her own desire, or Simeon’s, or maybe even both of their feelings combined. Frankly she couldn’t have given a damn whether his lust was feeding or swaying her own in some way, or whether this was all some one-sided hallucination on her part. All she knew was she wanted and needed to have this man inside her more than she currently wanted her next breath of air. They rolled together on the bed, kissing and touching each other with equally tender, curious, hungry fierceness. It was as if they were starved teenagers on their first make-out session. She cried out as he palmed her naked breast, ran his thumb gently over her erect nipple. She felt her cream leaking from her cunt, weeping from her body in a desperate need to have and ease his thickness inside her right there and then. Clare had never been a coy woman, had indulged herself in numerous affairs, yet never had she felt as simultaneously aggressive and needy as she did now. She marveled how it would be this man, a vampire in a future, largely unknown world, who would be the one to expose this deeply passionate side of her nature for the first time.

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Unable and not willing to play around with an extended amount of foreplay, Clare rolled Simeon onto his back and, feeling wanton and brazen, she straddled his hips, tilted her own hips and positioned herself right on the razor edge of heaven and hell. “I need you now, Simeon, right now,” she warned him. Or maybe she was pleading with him? In the hungry haze she felt enveloped in it was incredibly hard to tell who was in charge of whom. “I’m all yours, love,” he panted, spreading his arms wide and indicating she truly could do anything she pleased with him. This complete willingness to open himself and his body to her caused a thrill of possessiveness to course through her. Smiling down at him, letting her warm feelings show brightly in her eyes, she lifted herself ever so slightly, and then pressed herself down onto his rigid staff. She gasped in surprise and joyous abandon. She loved the feel of her swollen, sensitive, tender flesh slowly opening and swallowing his thick hardness whole. She felt surprised how it took a deliciously long, drawn-out moment to encase him. She was ready, flushed and creamy with her hunger and need for him, and yet he was so thick and seemed so large she had to wriggle a bit to fit herself onto him properly. She shivered with the delicious sensation of this first joining. He laughed, his dimples flashing and causing her heart to hitch a moment. No, she insisted to herself, I am not falling in love with this vampire. Clare forced her thoughts to return to the agonizing age it was taking her to embrace Simeon’s entire shaft. “Your cunt is so small and tight, dearheart,” Simeon whispered softly, obviously reading where her thoughts had headed. “Of course it will take a minute for you to stretch around me. But I wouldn’t worry about it, we have plenty of time.” She smiled and clucked her tongue at his obvious lie. Simeon no more had plenty of time than she did—she wanted him with a hot and hungry desperation, and she could feel his own lack of control. The rumbling deepness of his voice simultaneously soothed and agitated her, making her crave more, even though he sat fully embedded inside her and she certainly was stretched to her limit. Besides, she didn’t need to read his mind or thoughts to hear the untruth in his words. They were both starved, ravenous with their mutual need to take everything from one another, and share everything they could. She bent down to kiss him as he pulsed deep inside her pussy. She had a reckless craving, wanted to parry her tongue with him as her body softly clenched itself down and over his last few inches as she pressed herself onto him. She sighed in relief and pleasure as she finally settled fully over him, then squeaked in shock as he expertly flipped them both over without letting a single inch of their flesh move away from each other.

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“I wanted this to last,” he panted hot against her lips, “wanted to do this right. But I’m a fully grown vampire in heat, dearheart, and my control has, as of this moment, officially ended.” Clare smiled, trusting him as she had never trusted anyone else before. “Go for it, darling. I’m all yours,” she said, repeating his own words back to him, and stretching her arms wide out on the soft bed. Clare could easily feel how right the words of trust tasted on her lips and it felt more freeing than anything she had previously experienced to open her heart and soul to this vampire above all other people. Simeon started thrusting deep inside her, making her back arch deeper into the extraordinarily soft bed in delighted pleasure. Clare gasped and panted, tried to catch her breath as her head began to whirl dizzily with the intensity of her erotic pleasure. She had never felt such driving, ramming need and pleasure erotically intertwined together. They kissed deeply, somehow she knew they shared their thoughts and feelings with each other in an intimate mental embrace. She could feel Simeon’s pleasure and deep satisfaction in her body, and she knew he could feel her joy in his thick, hard possession. She also realized she felt a tiny bit shy, in that she knew she had never felt so wild and free, so almost feral in the heated joy of a man, any man’s hungry possession. She knew he felt a very faint, slight amusement at her shock at the intensity of her feelings and hunger for him. Although he didn’t seem anywhere near as surprised by the heated intensity positively crackling between them, he still found a wry, masculine approval and amusement at her reaction. They both strained together, their bodies coming into the most intimate of contact and clashing in the perfect mating of two people in perfect accord and sync. Clare felt an almost lightheaded sense of freedom in Simeon’s driving possession of her body and soul. She felt like she could fly, soar above herself as they kissed and shared their desire and excitement in discovering each other’s bodies. In seconds, even though her fingers gently caressed his hot, sweat-slicked skin, wanted this moment to stretch out and last forever, she could feel them both cresting the ultimate peak. Clare whimpered, wanted to search more, wanted to explore more between them, yet her body betrayed her. She could feel her body reach up, grasping, straining for that height of climax. Despite herself, Clare pressed on, touching and tasting, wanting everything all at once. Mere seconds later, as she screamed her blinding orgasm, she felt Simeon reach out to touch her mind even deeper than he had been before. In the confusion of the moment, the intensity of her climax and the roaring release of a zillion different thoughts and emotions, she almost thought he was sending her a plea for understanding. 99

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Before she could think or even open her mouth to attempt coherent conversation instead of screaming her release, she felt the very light, faint pain of teeth bite deep into her neck. The astounding mixture of pain, pleasure and shock sent her over the edge a second time before she had even fully come down from her first orgasm. Clare dimly heard Simeon roaring out his own climax, but even the liquid heat of his seed spurting into her body became lost in the plethora of other emotions and feelings bombarding her body. Clare could feel her body become hypersensitized at the onslaught of myriad different sensations and emotions. She could feel her own body sending signals of unendurable pleasure, her mind sending her warnings of vampire teeth in her neck, and she could feel the haze of lust and need and desperate craving coming from Simeon. Simeon, in fact, had an even more confused mass of emotions and sensations bombarding him, and the eddy of his mind caught up with her and sent her skyrocketing. Clare felt Simeon take a small amount of her blood into his body, and she could almost feel the pleasure and distinctive taste of herself in his mouth. She could feel his love for her burn deep inside him, his complete and utter certainty that only she could fulfill him and make him whole. Even though she didn’t fully understand the confusion of his thoughts and emotions, she knew he was not tricking her, or hiding anything from her. He was being more honest than any mere mortal could ever hope to be. As stunned as she felt, as dazed and confused as her mind seemed, with the heavy lethargy of her body’s monumental reactions, Clare could no more help herself than she could turn the sky green. She offered him her heart and everything she was. At the same moment, she would later swear she could feel him offering her his soul and everything he was and would ever come to be in return to her. She smiled as her mind insisted it was a fair trade. Everything she was, for everything he was. And what a devastatingly fantastic exchange that would be. Clare felt invaded by his warmth, consumed by his heat and scent. She couldn’t really understand how she knew, but she could have sworn they exchanged something in that intimate moment of perfect unity. Her chest felt warm, fuzzy, as if she had snuggled suddenly into a hot water bottle. Then the oddest thought flashed through her mind—as his teeth gently sank farther into her neck, as he drew some of her blood into his body, she thought she could feel him take the parts of her soul she offered him. Clare blinked, but the sensation, the feeling did not wane. She thought she could feel Simeon lift parts of her soul, and fuse them with parts of his own soul, which he had so freely offered to her.

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Not only had she offered him a section of her soul, but he had offered the same in return, and joined the two of them! She remembered the vampire tome, and she smiled slightly when she realized what he had done. By offering her his soul, he had completed her Soul’s Circle, and by taking her offering, he had completed his own Soul’s Circle at the same time. Even though she suspected they were now fused together, she smiled as she realized they still were complete in and of themselves. It felt perfect and paradoxical at the same time, just like a quirk of fate, odd humor that it seemed to have. She also understood why she hadn’t fully been able to understand the tome earlier. The paradox was something one had to almost experience to understand. She felt Simeon’s seed hot and potent inside herself, leaking very slightly from between her legs and mingling between their intertwined bodies. More importantly, Clare could feel his satisfaction and satiation rumbling almost like a purr between them. Without warning, Simeon rolled them both to the side and drew her even closer in a huge, warm bear hug. Clare chuckled, amused at the lightning-quick movement. She lay still and enjoyed the warmth of his body as it penetrated through her skin. She smiled in satiation, relieved she didn’t need the covers pulled up as she felt far too lax and boneless to be bothered with them. She smiled sleepily at the sexy man beside her, ran her fingers gently in exploration over his face. The fire of his sexual need still burned beneath the surface, but she could tell for the moment he was utterly sated and content. “You just bound us together, right?” she said softly, not wanting to break the moment, but having far too many questions roaming inside her head to lay in silence. “Completed our Soul’s Circles, yeah,” he replied softly back, obviously not wanting to break the moment any more than she. “I just couldn’t help myself, dearheart. And you did offer yourself to me. It is categorically impossible for a vampire to take that piece of your or anyone’s soul. It has to be offered. And the blood helps the ritual. I hope I didn’t scare you.” Clare smiled. “Not at all, though I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the sex sometime soon.” “How about right now?” he said rumbled sexily. Clare laughed, thinking he was teasing, but when Simeon levered himself up over her, resting on one arm, she caught her breath, realized he was completely serious. “Completing the ritual has given me a large measure of control back,” he said, obviously reading her surprise. “Even though I am still in heat and thus haven’t got as much control over myself as usual, I still think we can make this round last a helluva lot longer, dearheart.”

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Clare felt her eyes widen, impressed despite herself. Her mouth was dry and she closed her lips, tried to work some moisture inside, but failed miserably when he grinned sexily at her, and bent over her, his lips barely brushing the long column of her throat. “Tell me what you’d like, love,” he whispered naughtily against her soft skin, and Clare felt herself shudder in a fiery hot return of all the lust she had thought satisfied. Even though with his lips a mere hairsbreadth away from her throat, and the burning inside her gut ached to have him possess her as intimately as he had been mere moments ago, Clare decided to show him what she usually liked. She swallowed convulsively and tried to muster her earlier courage and bravado. When Simeon merely smiled and winked cheekily at her, she felt all her earlier strength returning easily. Clare smiled at the vampire easily took over her whole heart and soul, and she slowly, teasingly spread her legs. With both hands resting on his broad, deliciously muscled shoulders, she gently pressed him down her body until his face was about even with her belly. With a wicked, knowing, feral grin aimed right up at her and arrowing straight through her heart, Simeon happily complied and lowered his body even further as he scooted down the bed. “As long as you realize this is a two-way street, love.” Clare nodded and smiled, gasped and lifted her hips as he suckled her clit delicately into his mouth. She felt his long, strong fingers stroking her lower lips gently apart, and she screeched as he thrust three fingers deep inside her. Even though she had already had two of the most potent climaxes ever mere moments ago, she could again feel herself climbing up the peak. His fingers, though tightly stretching her sheath, were thickly lubricated in her own cream and his seed, and Clare knew she would very soon reach that perfect nirvana. Simeon gently suckled her clit, causing a riot of emotions to well up inside her, and his fingers stroked her inner walls, searching for her G-spot. When he found the small fusion of nerves, he eased the tip of one finger over it, causing Clare to moan. With her eyes closed, she felt another ripple of energy spike through her as she felt his soft lips gently graze over her lower lips, the edge of his teeth so delicately nip the swollen, tender flesh. Clare began to pant, shocked at how quickly he could fire up her body, amazed how this man she knew so little about could wield such an all-encompassing control over her body and urges. She could feel herself reach the crest. Her womb seized up and she felt her back arch again as his long, strong fingers casually strummed her silky inner flesh as if he were a maestro of the instrument of her body.

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As she came, crying out softly, Clare felt utterly amazed how her body became energized, not depleted. Still sated, but instead of feeling as if her energy had been sapped from her body, she felt stronger, more full and more complete. Breathing hard, but by no means finished, Clare lowered her hands to cup Simeon’s face. She lifted him up and kissed him, intrigued and astonished to feel herself turned on even more by the salty, tangy taste of herself and him mingled on his lips. She barely noticed as he withdrew his three fingers from her clenching pussy, and he wiped the dew on his own thigh. Freed now from his touch, albeit for only this moment, Clare sat up on the bed and gently pushed Simeon down flat onto his back on the bed. For a short few seconds, she cast her eyes down the long, lean, tanned length of Simeon’s body. She swallowed hard as she realized he was every heated fantasy she had ever indulged in. He was the good guy with a wild streak. His body was not the overly muscled form of a weightlifter, but more the lean athleticism of a man who ran. He was masculine enough to be hairy, but not enough to need a shave. His eyes were dark, heated, molten chocolate, and his face was flushed with hunger for her, and only she could sate him. Even though she knew she should be weak and limp with the physical exertions she had already been through, Clare smiled as her body heated up yet again with a lust for this vampire. Fiercely enjoying the sense of freedom she had always craved in the bedroom, Clare gently reached down one hand and cupped his balls in the warmth of her hand. Curious, wondering what he would like and not like, Clare let herself slowly stroke her fingers carefully over the thin skin there. She watched his face and body carefully, grateful to see the pleasure in his dark eyes and more than gratified to watch in pride as his cock rose once again, as firmly as if he had been weeks without release. Enjoying the pleasure mirrored in his dark, dark brown eyes, Clare smiled slowly, seductively, feeling every inch the insatiable, sexy siren calling and luring a man to his doom. Slowly, enjoying the heat of the moment, she carefully swung her body over his, climbed to straddle his hips once again, but maneuvering herself so she still could cup his balls until the very last moment. Finally, regretfully needing to let go, Clare consoled herself with the feeling of thrusting herself upon Simeon slowly, easily and steadily. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the slow ride down his thick shaft and the myriad sensations he caused to explode within her. She could feel him rubbing the edges of her walls, and twisting her position carefully, she angled herself so he hit her G-spot and gently slid over it again and again. Feeling dizzyingly in control, and loving every heated second of their play, she took his large, warm hands in her own and brought them up to her breasts. He easily cupped 103

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them, firm and strong, her own smaller hands showing him how she liked her breasts to be lifted and supported slightly. Without even direction, he grazed one thumb gently over the nipple, causing the already distended peak to harden to the borderline of pain. As he gently abraded the peak again and again, Clare felt her hips tilting to the best angle for his penetration, thrusting his thick shaft deeper and deeper into her in time with his thumb. She smiled, realized they had fallen in sync without even meaning to, and she wallowed for the moment in the perfection of their byplay. Simeon played with her nipples, moving easily from one to the other, gently squeezing and plying her turgid peaks, and Clare felt her body move almost as if of its own accord, reaching for the final climax to shatter them both. All too soon, she could feel herself getting close, and from the pants emanating from Simeon she knew he would not be able to hold out much longer, either. Grunting, ignoring the slight sheen of sweat running down her back, Clare reached one hand down to play with and rub her clit to help her move along even faster. When Simeon’s eyes heated up with an almost red spark of excitement and deep lust, she felt herself smiling saucily and arched her back to give him a better view of her playing with her own clit. As her feelings began to well up inside her chest and head, create havoc with her mind, she closed her eyes once again and let her head fall back, the pleasure of his thick shaft and her own ministrations with her clit almost overwhelming her. With one hand on his hips, she slowed her thrusts down upon his shaft, making them deeper, longer and more powerful. A large part of her wanted this to last forever, but the fire burned so hot inside her belly and the sparks his cock elicited from the friction sent her higher and higher, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to last very long. Simeon’s breathing had become choppy, and his body felt almost on fire he burned so hot, she knew they were both on the razor edge, control about to snap. “Go over, love, you’re driving me wild,” he panted harshly, and she could feel his own climax begging for release. Being so close to her lover, being able to feel what he felt amazed and excited her. She bent down, squashing his hands between her breasts and his chest. She kissed him deeply, wanting him to feel and sense everything that rushed through her body. “But I want this to last,” she whispered teasingly against his lips. “It has lasted, dearheart. Control between us will take time. Time and practice,” he replied as he grinned wickedly. “Then I think we need a lot of practice, Simeon.” He rolled them both over once more on the bed, and for once, Clare felt perfectly happy to give herself up to this man, this moment, and give up all her control. As he moved his hands from her breasts, he reached for both her thighs, raised her legs high

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and wide and thrust inside her far more strongly, a hundred times more deeply inside her, and so deliciously forceful to have her screaming out in mere seconds. This time the orgasm exploded in her mind as well as her body. The potency of the orgasm made her literally scream with its force and the unimaginable pleasure that rocked her world to its very foundation. Less than a second later she felt the answering explosion inside Simeon, felt him almost pass out from the sheer weight of his pleasure as his cock exploded so deep inside her, shooting jets of seed deep into her very heart and soul. Clare closed her eyes, a white explosion rocking through her body. Her ears rang with a distant hum as she felt the contractions rocket around her body, so huge they seemed to fill up the whole room. Everything went a clear, bright white for a moment, and Clare opened her eyes to find herself back in the rec-park she had been transported to all those months ago with the tome. She felt her heart constrict, about to shatter. Had the best sex of her entire life, had finally falling in love with Simeon acted as some sort of catalyst and sent her back in time? She didn’t want to go! Clare gasped for breath, scared and almost frozen with the panic that engulfed her. And then she heard Simeon’s well-known voice call out. “Ethan! Zebadiah! You run to your mother, not chase each other around those trees!” Clare frowned, confused, and turned around. The park was brightly lit by the two daytime orange suns, the grass and trees a lovely shade of green, the flowers blooming and spreading all sorts of colors around the place. She felt her heart settle down as she saw Simeon waving to her and nodding at the two little boys who giggled and ran, one chasing the other. She had no idea how, but she knew without a doubt that the little man running in the red jumpsuit was Ethan, the little boy in the dark green was Zebadiah. “Mama!” the two boys shouted in sync. “I’m gonna catch Zeb,” little Ethan called out. The twins were identical in all but the color of their suits, but Clare knew which one was which without question or thought. She smiled and knelt in the grass, uncaring of stains to her clothes. She held her arms out, and both little boys ran straight into her arms as if they belonged there always. Clare felt tears on her cheeks as her heart filled with a joy and love she had never before known existed. Pulling back infinitesimally, she took a closer look at the two boys. They both had Simeon’s dark, dark brown eyes, and straight, slightly messy brown hair.

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The closer Clare looked at them, the more she knew these two boys were mirror images of Simeon, their father, at his age. She did, however, recognize the impatient mannerisms as her sons pried themselves from her hug as her own, so she had almost certainly left her own stamp on them as well. “Chase us, Mama,” Ethan called out as he and Zebadiah both ran away again, and laughing, Clare stood up to give chase. The vision, however, faded, and Clare felt Simeon’s hand gently stroking her face. “Clare,” he whispered softly, and she opened her eyes to watch her lover, and the father of the children she knew they had just created, lower his weight onto her, pressing them both gently into the big, soft bed. Clare knew it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds she had been out of it, having that odd vision of the children they had just conceived, yet she knew it had changed her world forever. With Simeon’s weight on top of her, even though he was heavy, she didn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, Clare knew she felt so relaxed and so wonderful she never wanted to move—ever again.

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Chapter Ten Clare felt as if she were floating on the warmest, softest cloud in the whole world. She tried to think back. In the last hour or so she had experienced, what? Four orgasms? Five? She stretched lazily, smiling as Simeon grunted and shifted slightly, but still lay pretty much on top of her, covering her with the warmth of his body from head to foot, their legs intertwined. Clare shifted more comfortably, so their bodies fit together perfectly. She snickered softly to herself as she felt muscles long-unused twinge happily. Maybe she had died and gone to heaven? Just as she felt her eyes close and she pondered the decadent indulgence of a nap, the bedroom door smashed inward, breaking open and slamming very loudly into its recess in the wall. Clare felt her eyes snap open in burgeoning alarm and, totally against her conscious will, she heard herself scream. A tall man with shoulder-length, brown curly hair came crashing through the doorframe with what looked like a laser sword from a very cheesy movie glowing bright red in one hand. Clare felt her heart beat almost hard enough to break through her rib cage. Acting on pure instinct and ignoring everything else around her, she rolled out from underneath Simeon, attempting to jump out of the enormous bed. She felt her small progress halted as Simeon’s warm arms wrapped themselves firmly around her. His large body moved at the same time to come up and cover her from the dark brown gaze of the man who had run into the previously peaceful bedroom. Being forced to stay still, although mostly shielded from the intruder, Clare blinked as the stranger had a completely startled, almost comedic look of absolute surprise spread across his face. Studying him closely in the beat of silence, Clare frowned. The intruder looked vaguely familiar, but how so? Clare realized that just as she stared at the stranger, so too was he staring at her, surprise as well as a faint flush of annoyance crossing over his face. Clare felt herself blush bright red over her whole body. Simeon’s body might be shielding her, but she bet this strange man was still copping a pretty decent eyeful of her naked body. She stared in a very concentrated, hard manner at the plush carpet, a deep bluish-purple color.

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Never had she wished so hard to all the heavens in the galaxy that the earth beneath her would open up and swallow her whole. Naked or not. Nothing could be quite this mortifying, she decided. “For the sake of the Goddess, Si!” the stranger said, lowering his glowing red laser sword-thing and placing a hand on his hip, the perfect picture of masculine annoyance. “Next time you bring a girl around to screw—” Before Clare could even begin to feel indignation at the mention of being a “mere girl to screw”, she felt her eyes widen in shock as Simeon leapt completely naked from the bed to practically jump down the intruder’s throat. “Don’t you dare insult her like that, Rylan! She is not some lame floozy like you’d bring back here. She is—uh…she’s…” Clare grabbed a fistful of the covers and brought it up to her neck with one hand. Sitting forward onto the edge of the bed, she scooted so she could reach out and place a hand carefully on her lover’s arm. Between the covers and still sitting partially behind Simeon’s body, now quivering in either the cold or outrage, Clare couldn’t tell which, she figured she had to be at least mostly decently covered. She smiled wryly, realizing she needn’t have worried. Simeon was flexing his hands as if wishing he could strangle the other man, while the man he had called Rylan stared hard at Simeon as if he had lost his marbles. “Simeon,” Clare said softly, hoping to defuse whatever situation boiled between her lover and his twin brother. “It’s not Ry’s fault he thinks I’m some prostitute. I mean…” she fumbled slightly as Simeon stood completely in front of her, fully blocking her from Rylan’s view. She hadn’t managed to get a good very look at him, other than to notice the curly dark brown hair and impressive physique, but at least she now knew why he had seemed so familiar even though they hadn’t met. She shook her head, feeling faintly annoyed now. Simeon couldn’t possibly think he was just some passing fantasy-fuck, that she’d ditch him for some other handsome body and pretty face. No, she thought to herself, far more likely he’s just being protective because I’m practically naked. Chivalry was all well and good, she believed, but it wasn’t like she was some fainting virgin or something. “It’s not like we’re sitting here drinking tea,” she continued firmly, sitting up straighter, tucking her legs beneath her. “Let’s get dressed and we can talk downstairs like civilized people, hmm?” she offered, hoping a bit of space and maybe even some clothes would fix whatever situation swirled around them. “Yeah, bro,” Rylan said sarcastically. “I felt the shift of your power, dork. I thought you were being attacked, not…uh…doing what you were doing. So don’t smite me with that glance you used to give me when we were kids.”

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Clare felt her embarrassment level rise as Rylan’s annoyance hit home to her. Shit, she mentally cursed herself. This was certainly a bad way to be introduced to the family, naked and immediately post-coital. Not the best of first impressions. Clare could almost see the protective instincts of Simeon leap to the fore. The problem with understanding her lover so comprehensively she slowly was discovering was she had a feeling most of her stronger emotions would no longer be kept by merely a poker face. “Get the hell out of here, Ry,” Simeon said lowly. Clare smiled. While Simeon certainly didn’t seem happy, he did seem to have himself a bit more under control. “We’ll be down in a minute or two,” he added. The lecherous, knowing leer and obscene wink Ry gave Simeon was more than enough for her to realize there would be no time for more nooky before they went down there either. Likely the man would be counting the seconds and hypothesizing what they were doing up here. Clare grimaced. Feeling once again like a teenager caught by her parents necking in the car out front of the house, she jumped out of the bed as soon as the now dented door slid closed as much as it could behind the sexy man, and leapt to where her clothes were strewn across the floor. Simeon, on the other hand, fell back with a huge sigh and sprawled out over his large bed and grinned like a fool at her. “Something wrong, baby?” he asked teasingly. Clare flipped him the bird, not knowing or caring if the rude hand gesture had progressed through to the future, and continued to look for where her panties had fallen. “That man,” she waved to the closed door, “now thinks I’m some sort of prostitute. A hussy, some sex-crazed, obsessive fiend. I am not going to hang around here bantering with him. I need to get back to work anyway.” “You haven’t had your lunch yet,” Simeon pointed out, pretending to be the very soul of sensitivity. Clare paused for a second, casting a startled glance at her lover. Seeing the glint in his eye, she recognized his odd brand of teasing. She shook her head, gave up on her hunt and pulled her pants on. She hadn’t been able to find her panties, but suddenly remembering the rending tear she had heard as she pulled them over her hips in her earlier haste, she figured they would be unwearable even if she could find them. She fastened her pants and searched for her bra and shirt. “He’s my twin, Clare,” Simeon said with an enviable calm. She felt her heartbeat hitch and then accelerate even more. Brilliant. There’s more of them, she grouched to herself, even though she had known from Gavreel’s talks Simeon and Rylan were the

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twins, the memory just hadn’t clicked fully with the reality until she had been confronted with it. “He just felt…I suppose you could say the power surge from the sheer force of my orgasm.” Simeon crooked a hand under his chin to watch her more comfortably. “He was worried. He won’t bite—I promise. He just likes to tease.” Clare stared at Simeon, then shook her head and found her bra on the other side of the room. She walked over and snatched it from where it had been cast to the floor and began to put it on. “It is still rather embarrassing,” she pointed out with her customary ruthless logic. “And why did he react so strangely? I mean, you and I both know we’ve…well…done more than just had some brilliant sex, but surely it’s not that odd for you to climax? I’m sure he must have felt you have sex here a heap of times. What brought him…” Clare trailed off as her mind supplied the answer of Simeon’s twin having somehow understood the significance of this particular sexual escapade. Instead of fretting or overreacting, Clare simply pulled her shirt on and shut her mouth. Sure, she felt embarrassed to think Rylan might somehow know Simeon had experienced fantastic sex and completed his Soul’s Circle, but she knew herself well enough to know it might take a few moments to wrap her head around it without wanting to blush first. Instead of stressing over something she had no control of, Clare tried to focus on anything else. When her mind came up empty she breathed deeply to gather her courage to go back downstairs. “It will be okay,” Simeon soothed her as he stood up from the bed to embrace her, “Rylan will just tease the hell out of me. I think you’ll find he’ll be far more curious about you than you are about him.” Clare chuckled. “I don’t know,” she replied with humor, “I’m pretty damn curious about your twin. I bet we can gossip about you lots and find a few items of common interest.” She chuckled happily as Simeon mumbled something about “ganging up on me” as he squeezed her tightly and then let her reluctantly go. She finished dressing and turned to watch as Simeon moved around, finally pulling a shirt and pants on. The intimate knowledge that he wore no underwear had her face heating up with another blush. “Rylan will definitely be waiting,” Simeon said casually. “And he will be simply bursting with eagerness to chat with you.” Clare walked over to the door, a comfortable smile on her face. “I don’t suppose I can cry off and insist Alderic will be wondering where I am.” “No, I really don’t think that will wash, Clare,” Simeon said softly, but with a smile. She knew he understood she hadn’t expected to get away with it, but although she

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knew she likely would get along with Simeon’s twin, she couldn’t help but feel nervous meeting him after being discovered so immediately post-coital. Simeon stopped beside her as she reached the door and pressed her back gently against it. He dipped his head and Clare felt the breath escape her lungs. How the hell was she supposed to be nervous or think coherently when he was so damned sexy and could melt her with something as simple as a kiss? When she wanted him so much it ached inside her chest? When you know you’re pregnant with his twins, her mind echoed seductively. Clare reached out to touch Simeon, needing the contact if only for just that moment. She let his lips press gently over hers, exceedingly soft and gentle after the roughness of their mutual need before. Arching up to his lips, needing to taste him, and she subconsciously felt her mind open to accept him. She had no idea why they could share emotions and some thoughts when they touched now, but she had to admit the bizarre mental bond they now shared with their souls merged would make life interesting in the future. As their lips roamed over each other, she could feel his need and satisfaction with her—the heat and urgency boiling inside him, though still simmering under the surface, was temporarily banked. He felt sated, satisfied, even though he still wanted more from her, from them. As Clare explored his lips, her mind pressed further into his, knowing this intimate contact between them would only last as long as they kissed. With that guideline in place, she felt compelled to learn as much about him as she could in their short timeframe. Clare gently reached out, felt utterly surprised to find his growing love for her, even though they had practically just met. She felt his desire for her and his need to help her, comfort her. And then she felt a teasing laughter. She pulled back, not hurt exactly, but shocked, surprised. The laughter had been genuine, not mocking, and…not his? It didn’t fit in with the Simeon she was growing to know. “That will be Rylan,” he whispered softly, groaning as she pulled her lips away from his. “Rylan?” she said quietly, digesting the knowledge. It almost felt as if the man were in the room with them. “Laughing, in my head,” Simeon clarified and Clare felt a small measure of surprise, but only at the understanding of it being someone else in Simeon’s head. As soon as he had said it, she had recognized the feel of Rylan, his twin. “Then we’d better go down and face the bear.” She turned and grabbed the door, realizing too late there was no doorknob to reach for. She sighed and waited for Simeon to press his palm into the panel and open the

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door. When he grabbed her hand, pressed a few keys in the wall, and then pressed her palm onto the clear plate, she looked over her shoulder at him enquiringly. “I’m adding you to my private system. Even when I lock the boys out, you will always be welcome here, and able to enter merely by placing your palm on the plate.” Clare smiled, felt the peace that had been slowly growing inside her as Gavreel, Alderic and now Simeon made her feel more protected, more at home, swell even greater. She felt accepted. Kissing him lightly on the lips, she whispered her thanks and set off back down the stairs. She paused at the bottom, allowing Simeon to pass her and lead her to a large, sun-filled room. Rylan lay sprawled out on the couch in a manner very similar to how she could imagine Simeon sprawled. He had what looked like an open holographic magazine with the word Wench emblazoned in red across its front cover. A woman with impossibly blue skin held enormous naked breasts and pouted for the camera. Travel time and galaxies and men are invariably the same, she thought, amused. Though she had to admit not even the Playmates of the Year had breasts quite that big, neither was blue skin all the rage back home. “Rylan, this is Clare. Clare, this is my twin brother, the bane of my life, Rylan Montague.” The handsome man looked up from his holo-zine and cast it aside onto the side table. “Clare, lovely to meet you.” Clare smiled and held out her hand to shake. Instead, she was enveloped in a huge hug. “Terribly sorry for interrupting you, though it did seem as though you were pausing for breath. Bit of a miscommunication. If I’d known Si here had been entering heat I would never have come crashing through the door like that.” “How did you hack through the door, Ry? I had it locked against you and Michael.” “That would have been me.” Clare turned as a deeper, more melodious voice came from the hallway. She stifled a sigh as she watched yet another devastatingly handsome man walk into the sunny room. Taller than the twins, with blond-streaked brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes, his face had a structural resemblance to the twins, yet his coloring was vastly different. “I have an override master key, Simeon, you know that,” the man continued. “When Ry came thumping into my quarters, screaming about you being attacked and too panicked to even think to get his own master key, I overrode your code pass. I didn’t know our youngest sibling had lost his marbles.” Clare felt her stomach flip-flop as the question burning in her mind became answered.

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“You must be Michael, then,” she said before she could censor her mouth. Gavreel had talked fondly about his three sons a few times in the short time they had spent together. Being confronted with three drop-dead sexy, make-a-woman-melt men was slightly different than thinking on a hypothetical level of Gavreel having three sons, however, and for a moment Clare felt slightly overwhelmed. Thankfully, Michael merely smiled and came toward her. She hugged him back as he folded her in a warm embrace. “Gavreel, our father, found two women whom he could have settled with,” Michael explained as he reluctantly let her go. “For various reasons, he never did with either of them, though he did sire the three of us. And we are fairly rare, even amongst a rare species.” Clare smiled and sat down. “Okay, so there aren’t any more of you?” she teased, knowing the answer but just wanting to confirm she wouldn’t have to take in many more surprises. She smiled back as all three men settled themselves in varying places around her. “Well, Vasili isn’t a Montague, but he’s almost always floating around somewhere,” Rylan replied with a cheeky wink, “and he’s as good as one of us.” “So how do you fit into all this, Clare?” Michael asked with a grin. “Oh,” she laughed, happy to have the slight change of topic, “Simeon came into the Book Nook, looking for Gav. I had no idea Gavreel hadn’t informed you all of his leaving for an unknown period of time. He told Alderic and me he had no idea how long he would be gone, and so I never really worried much about it.” “You work at the Book Nook?” Rylan repeated incredulously. Clare merely raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and I live there too, though that’s a long, boring story. Tell you what,” she finished with a smile, “why don’t you guys tell me what you do know and how Chandra fits into all this, and I’ll fill in what gaps I can.” Clare looked from Michael to Rylan, both of whom nodded. Clare turned to Simeon, who smiled warmly at her. She felt her chest heat up, and she looked away before she could send any naughty thoughts back to him to distract them both. She wasn’t certain how much of Gavreel’s plans she could tell, as she honestly didn’t think she knew much more than she had already told, but maybe if the brothers explained everything to her it could jog something free and she could give them a clue that might be useful. Settling herself, she waited for one of the brothers to start speaking.

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Chapter Eleven Simeon watched with pride as his woman settled herself on a large chair. Initially, when his doofus of a twin had come crashing through into his bedchamber, laser beamer in hand, he had been worried she might run. He would have chased her, of course, would have followed her anywhere. But he felt a huge welling of pride to find she had so much strength and courage when facing the unknown. He felt his respect and appreciation of her courage notch up another slot as he realized she was even braver than any other woman who might have found herself in this position, as this was neither her time nor her place. He had no idea how or what the tome had done, bringing her here. But he certainly felt grateful for it. He enjoyed the thought that one of his father’s tomes had brought a woman through time and space purely for him. “Where should we start, lovie?” his twin questioned charmingly. Simeon tried to drag his mind back on track as he narrowed his eyes at Ry. His twin exuded charm at the best of times but Simeon knew his self-control well enough to know he could only take a minimum of Ry’s lighthearted flirting directed at his woman for now. Simeon felt his mind relax, as well as a hefty wave of gratitude wash over him when Clare merely raised an eyebrow at Rylan. Simeon could have counted a hundred ways this woman appealed to him, a thousand ways in which she were special. But right now he wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless merely because she didn’t instantly quiver and fall under his twin’s spell. Simeon sat down next to Clare, there being plenty of room for the two of them on the large chair. He placed an arm over her shoulders in what could only be described as a proprietary manner. He saw the shock in the eyes of both of his brothers, but more, he felt the surprise in their minds. He merely smiled, refusing to explain any further or share his mind with them any deeper. “Let’s start at the beginning,” he suggested silkily, nodding to his brothers to show they should talk about all they knew. He couldn’t tell if they knew he had completed his Soul’s Circle with Clare, but if the odd glances Rylan kept shooting him were any indication, he could tell his twin knew something was up with him. Simeon smiled to himself. It felt so very interesting to see Rylan playing the cautious, overprotective, fretful twin for a change. Simeon wished briefly he could have milked this moment for even longer. He hastily threw the notion out of his head. Rylan and he genuinely shared a close bond, he wouldn’t want to mess with that for all the credits in the galaxy.

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“Well,” Michael started, casting him a really odd, utterly unreadable glance, “Gavreel, as I am sure you know, is particularly interested in ancient and rare texts. He has always, to my knowledge, been interested in everything anthropologic, but his main focus has always been around how vampires as a species came into being.” Clare had been nodding at his words, and when Michael paused, she added her own queries. Simeon felt another shaft of pride pierce him. He truly felt pride and joy in this woman, and he felt humble and grateful for being “given” her. “And so the tome I brought with me was particularly useful,” Clare said, earning startled glances from both Rylan as well as Michael. Clare cocked her head, smiled saucily and stated easily, “My story is much longer and better for a boring, rainy night in. We can do that later. What I feel is far more important than my own history is, do any of you know who Chandra is? And what’s with all the secrecy Gavreel insisted on?” “Well,” Rylan piped up, smiling charmingly at her and making Simeon’s stomach roll with jealousy. Since when had he felt the need to defend a woman against his twin? “Chandra is the only other vampire—or vampiress, to be exact—who is as seriously interested in our history and the gaining of knowledge as Gav is. There is rather a heavy rivalry going on between them. Likely anything Gav told you in confidence was so that she wouldn’t be able to jump ahead on him and his research on whatever latest musty paper he was writing for those damn journals he follows like the plague.” Simeon sat silently, his fingers gently caressing Clare’s arm. He enjoyed the feelings of happiness, safety and pleasure she unconsciously sent to him. He and both his brothers waited silently, patiently, while Clare seemed to chew through her thoughts. Simeon didn’t even bother to try and read her mind. Anything she wanted to share she would, and his Clare was a brilliant young woman. She would work it all out. Finally, she spoke again. “Firstly, I don’t really know much at all. I’m just hesitant to say anything at all because Gavreel was so insistent I not tell anyone, as he didn’t want it getting back to this Chandra person. I don’t break my promises lightly, even though I know full well logically he wouldn’t have meant don’t tell his sons anything.” I’m not pushing you to tell us anything at all, darling, he sent silently to her. He enjoyed the very slight jump his silent words caused in her. His light touch on her arm continued stroking her. Now he could feel the links between their souls, now they had shared each other’s mind-space he could direct words to her, much as he could with his brothers or anyone else who had opened their mind to him. Only as she jumped, startled, did he realize he hadn’t explained that to her. When he saw Clare wrinkle her nose he had to resist the urge to chuckle. Obviously it would take a little while for her to get used to hearing him in her head.

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I trust you a thousand percent, he added just for the hell of it and to get her more comfortable with him speaking silently to her. You do whatever you think is right, dearheart. He smiled smugly as Clare obviously wrestled with herself. I know you trust me, she sent back to him. He grinned widely, impressed she had been able to work out how to follow their link and do so. But I still stand by the fact I don’t want Gavreel upset with me for having broken my promise. Simeon gently stroked her arm in a soothing rhythm, not wanting to push her any more in either direction. Instead, he held his silence while showing her with his body language and physical touch that she had his full support either way. He watched as she struggled with her decision until she finally questioned Michael and Rylan. “Why didn’t Alderic tell me that I was only supposed to keep Gav’s secrets from Chandra, not the rest of you?” Simeon turned to look down at her in surprise. “You’ve talked to Alderic about this in depth?” “Of course,” she replied testily, as if he were a moron with not a brain cell in his head. Simeon felt a goofy grin cross his face. He couldn’t even point out silently to Clare how adorable she looked while indignant, as she was already barging ahead and he really didn’t want to interrupt her flow. “Gavreel might be your father, but he’s one of the very few friends I have on this damned rock.” All three men looked at her, patiently waiting. Simeon felt proud when she sighed and continued to speak. “When Gavreel left he said he was going on a quest to find something he had been searching for for years. He thought it might take a month or two, but really had no idea how long he would be gone. A few weeks ago I asked Alderic when Gav would be returning, and he said he wasn’t certain. I kept on asking him, just from curiosity more than anything, but all Alderic told me was that Gav was on a soul-search, only he didn’t know it and instead thought he was on some quest or other.” “A soul-search?” Michael repeated. Simeon was about to defend her when she took his other hand and squeezed it gently, warmly. “I thought that was what he said…a soul-search, or a Soul’s Circle search. Hmm, yeah. Definitely something like that.” “Gav wants to close his Soul’s Circle after all this time?” Rylan interjected, disbelief heavy in his tone. “Are you nuts?” Simeon frowned at Rylan. Even though his twin hadn’t spoken meanly, he didn’t want Clare to feel pressured or upset. “No,” Clare assured his twin without any hesitancy. “Alderic said Gavreel didn’t know he was on that particular quest.” Simeon felt Clare tense up and he shot her

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another glance. He could tell she wrestled with something inside her. Finally she sighed deeply, as if she were giving up the secret to the Meaning of the All or something. “Gavreel is actually trying to verify the dedication in the tome I brought him,” she finally admitted. She closed her eyes and Simeon resisted the urge to drag her closer to his body, to protect her and shield her from everything the galaxies could throw at her. She took a few deep breaths, and then spoke, reciting something from memory. “To reach your heart’s desire, one must travel far and wide. But then take the time to look inside, that’s where, for what you search, you will find.” Simeon looked at his woman, impressed with her memory. When Clare looked back at him and smiled, he kissed her softly. He simply couldn’t help himself. He felt his twin’s surprise, as clearly as if he had said something. Even Michael seemed to be radiating surprise. Simeon pulled back, not wanting to really cause a scene, he just hadn’t been able to resist her lips. “So where did Gav head to verify this dedication?” he asked huskily, not particularly caring whether she answered him or not. Personally, he would rather carry her back up the stairs and start again from the beginning, undressing her slowly and licking every delectable inch of her body. He recalled with a vivid clarity that she wore no panties, and he felt his cock harden. The fire of his heat phase licked at the edges of his control once again, and Simeon knew soon he would need to be alone with this tantalizing woman again. He craved her more than any drug possible. Clare blushed slightly and merely shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, but a woman entered the Book Nook a few days after he had left and asked for him. I blew her off, but she seemed to see right through me. Thankfully, Gav took the tome with him, and so it’s highly unlikely she knows about the dedication. I have been assuming the woman was Chandra. Tall, with short, cropped blonde hair, dark brown eyes?” All three of the brothers were nodding, knowing exactly whom she spoke of. “So where do we go from here?” Clare asked, looking at each brother in turn. “I’ll ask around a bit, see if he’s left a trail of any form,” Rylan started until Michael elbowed him in the ribs. “You harass Ruthie, and we’ll hear about it.” “I have no intention of harassing anyone,” Rylan said with a pompous amount of dignity. Clare smiled, finding his tone of offended righteousness amusing. “I’ll pair up with Vasili and check out Gav’s other contacts, see if any of them have any knowledge,” Michael said, ignoring Rylan’s theatrical sigh of annoyance. Simeon watched as Clare turned to him. “What do we do?” He sent her a heated thought, projected the fantasy of her naked and astride him, his cock lodged deep inside her as she rode him up and down. Simeon could feel a few dots of sweat cover his body as his need rose. Barely any time had passed since they

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had last made love, yet he needed her with a reckless urgency he couldn’t suppress for much longer. “We can…uh…question Alderic,” he said, verbalizing the first thing that came into his mind. “I thought you already pumped Alderic for all he had on Gav, bro,” Rylan said teasingly. Simeon looked into his twin’s eyes, and sent the nastiest mental thought he had in years. Shut the fuck up, Ry. Rylan howled in laughter, nearly falling from the chair as he tried to contain himself. “I still think there might be something back at the Book Nook,” Simeon insisted aloud, not caring in the slightest both his brothers had a very clear idea of what it was he actually wanted to do. “Not to mention none of us have really searched Gav’s lodgings or office over there. I think there’s plenty there to keep us all busy.” He could feel Clare rolling her eyes at him, yet he didn’t care. He pulled her closer to his body, needing the contact. “We’d better get moving,” he said hoarsely, moving his arm from around Clare’s shoulder to hold her hand and pull her up next to him. “Lots to do,” he said unconvincingly. As he ushered Clare out, he felt Michael grab the scruff of his neck. “Mike wants a word with him,” Rylan said charmingly to Clare. “Let me show you to the front door.” Simeon gritted his teeth as Rylan gently took Clare’s arm out from his grip and led her away from the chamber. Simeon turned to his elder brother and barely kept himself from snapping out at him. “What?” he said peevishly. “You’re in heat?” Mike said, not really asking but confirming. “Yeah, so? You already knew that.” Simeon hadn’t felt so juvenile and pettish since he was a tiny kid. “That means Ry will be, if he isn’t already.” Simeon thought back to the restlessness Ry had been feeling of late. “I bet he’s close. It’s been…different for me this time. That said, maybe I could sense Clare around, close by, and it altered the heat’s effect on me. I really don’t know.” Michael merely nodded. “Chances are I will be entering heat sometime soon too. As we were all born the year following Gav’s heat phases, we are all roughly in sync with each other’s phases. But I haven’t been feeling any of its effects recently, so maybe I have a couple of months still to go.” Simeon merely raised his eyebrow. Michael was over a hundred and fifty years older than both himself and Rylan. Likely he had a lot more control over his heat phase. Still, he let Mike’s comment slide.

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“Maybe blowing off some steam with Ruthie is exactly what Ry needs,” Simeon suggested, his mind diverted from Clare for the first time since he had laid eyes on her. “Not even he can push the investigator around. Ruthie won’t take any of his shit.” “I’m glad you found such a nice girl to close your Soul’s Circle with,” Michael said slightly out of the blue, “but maybe once we’ve found Gav we could sit down and get to know her a bit better? Ry is positively panting with curiosity.” “Shit, Mike,” Simeon complained, not surprised at all that either of his brothers were able to tell he had completed his Soul’s Circle, or the ritual. “I am having enough troubles keeping my hands off her as it is, I really don’t want to be feeling jealous of the two of you as well.” Simeon glared at his brother when he laughed. “I seriously doubt Ry would poach,” Michael insisted, “but a bit of healthy flirting won’t hurt you. Besides, you’re obviously besotted with her, and she feels the same in response—it’s clearly written all over the two of you.” Simeon merely grunted and headed out the door of the chamber they had been conversing in. He heard Michael chuckling as he followed behind. Simeon headed in the direction of the front door, his excellent hearing able to catch the playful, seductive tone from his twin. “And I should trust you to do this for me?” he heard Clare say, disbelief dripping from every word. “But of course!” Simeon hurried as he heard the teasing, flirty tone in Rylan’s voice. “It’s not as if—oh, hello there, Si. You have a wonderful woman here, bro.” Simeon wrapped an arm around Clare’s waist, managing to smile at last when he felt her soft mental fingers brush across his mind. She wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, he realized, she was just hot for him. Clare had been enjoying the byplay between herself and Rylan, but he felt his whole demeanor settle down when he realized she wasn’t attracted to his twin, it was him she burned for. He smiled at Rylan, and opened the door to the street. “Go harass poor Ruthie, you schmuck,” he said cheerfully, most of his anger and jealousy abated with that simple gesture from his woman. “And give her my best. We have stuff to do,” he added with a warning stare. He ignored the laughter from both his brothers as he led Clare from his lodgings and headed back in the direction of the Book Nook.

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Chapter Twelve

Meanwhile, in the Colonial Vampiric Library of Owanus Planet Owanus Chandra Tripplen stood just inside the door of the massive library. Ancient bloodstone surrounded her, its black stone depths creating the eerie and hushed sense of atmosphere she had never found elsewhere across the immense galaxy. It was old-world gothic. Ancient in the literal sense. No one even knew of a time when the vampire library had not stood here, monument to the thirst for knowledge many vampires, particularly the more elderly kind, always seemed to have possessed. The sense of hushed atmosphere, the scent of sacred knowledge hung heavy in the air. Chandra took a deep, cleansing breath, bringing the familiar, much-loved smell of the old stone and ancient texts deep into her lungs. She loved this place, for a multitude of reasons, but all of them boiled down to nowhere else came close to giving her the same sense of “home” as she felt here. She felt safe within these learned walls. The sense of feeling protected, cherished here, as if she truly were just one piece of an enormous puzzle even the vampiric mind was too tiny to behold. Chandra could feel her destiny inside this cavernous room. She cast her eyes over the private tables, recognized a number of the vampires studying tomes and texts. Refusing to let go of the task at hand, she hunted throughout the room, searching and discarding vampire after vampire. And then she found the man she had been following, chasing—intellectually speaking—for at least the last few hundred years. She watched as Gavreel Montague ran an agitated hand through his shortly cropped brown hair. His dark brown eyes scanned the words of the volume in front of him so lightning-fast it hardly looked as if he were reading at all. Chandra knew he was absorbing the words at a supernaturally fast pace, superior even to many of the more learned vampires present in this sacred place of knowledge. Knowing she now had time, as Gavreel did not look to be moving anywhere fast if the number of tomes surrounding him were any indication, Chandra leaned against the wall and released a huge sigh of relief that had been pent-up inside her for what felt like an age. She had been hot on Gavreel’s trail for most of the last few weeks, following him from research center to library around the galaxy. It was obvious he was on to something big, and she fully intended to either help him or force him to let her in on the deal.

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Chandra had a very good idea of what it was Gavreel sought, as most of their antagonism sprang from the fact they sought the same sort of goals, the same style of knowledge. If Gavreel truly was after what she thought he was, she would do practically anything to make sure she helped with her own five credits and saw this through to the very end. Chandra took her own sweet time to survey the vampire who had driven her to screaming point any number of times over the last few decades. Chandra frowned in annoyance as she once again recounted the litany she nearly knew by heart now. Gavreel refused to listen to her postulations, often making a mockery of her in his own journal articles and papers. They had been clashing over the more public journals over obscure references as well as challenging each other over the theory of whence the Vampire came from for many a decade. Yet still she studied what she loved and gave more and more evidence for her own views as the examples came to hand. She refused to back down to the more accoladed Gavreel Montague, simply because her theories, which were just as well supported as his, were less traditional. Chandra had no idea why she bothered fighting with the vampire, why she seemed to get so hot under the collar at his barbs and dismissals in their papers. It merely seemed to her mind that this particular vampire got under her skin in a way no one else had been able to in her three hundred and eight years. Chandra mused on the subject a moment, enjoying watching Gavreel deep in his text. It wasn’t as if she had never enjoyed the competitive nature of other academics in their circles, nor was it as if she had some silly, juvenile need to prove herself to the vampire—nor anyone else, for that matter. Yet for some reason, she so often found herself swearing at the walls or mentally casting daggers toward Gavreel Montague after reading one of his papers. She frowned, wondered what odd magic it was that he more than anyone could pierce her usual cool, calm and collected armor. Mentally throwing off the odd train of thought, as well as the rising annoyance she felt for Gavreel, Chandra pushed herself off the wall. She straightened, and ran a hand over her skinsuit. She had traveled hastily here when she realized the true subject Gavreel had found and would be researching. Chandra only had time to pack a brief bag of items, and had not even bothered to change out of her traveling skinsuit when she had disembarked from the ship. She had wanted to check with her own eyes Gavreel was indeed in the library, and now she needed to plot her next movements carefully. Chandra stalked tall and proudly toward Gavreel, tired of her own thoughts, doubts and worries. She smiled wryly to herself as the vampire didn’t even notice her arrival until she was a mere pace or two away from him. She quickly cast her eyes over the volumes he was reading. Many of them she owned herself, as she felt certain he did as well. Her eyes narrowed. What had brought

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him all the way out here, when many of these texts were in his own library, and all the other texts she could see were quite easily found over all the shared information systems. And then her eyes rested on the volume he had opened before him. Her eyebrows rose in astonishment and some of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place for her. He has found the ancient text! The lost volume of The Ancient Civilizations of the Early Vampires! Chandra felt her blood thicken and heat up. She felt a tingling deep inside her pussy and her mouth watered, her throat parched from a sudden hormonal and adrenaline rush only a huge discovery could give to her. She felt certain her pupils had dilated. The knowledge she stood so very close to the rare, lost tome had a potent sexual as well as intellectual effect on her. “Chandra, following me around like a lost little girl again?” For once in her life, Gavreel Montague’s teasing didn’t pierce her armor in the slightest. She suddenly had a much higher agenda than prodding the beast. “Not in the slightest,” she said, amazed how feathery and light her voice sounded. She cleared her throat and prayed he hadn’t been able to notice just how deep-seated her reaction to his tome was. “As I banked into the port, I recognized your ship, red-parked as usual. Instead of tattling on you like some stupid youth, I decided to track you down. I was heading here anyway, I needed the text on Luther Bejonal for the paper I’m in the middle of.” Chandra shut her mouth, embarrassed to have given so much information away, even if it were only a half-truth. Her mind had turned to mush the moment she recognized the tome. From the surprised, wary look on Gavreel’s face, he, too, must have noticed her unusual sharing of information. “There’s no way in the five hells—” Chandra didn’t even let him finish his sentence. She sat beside him, and laid a hand on his arm. “Oh, PLEASE. Gav. You know I’m pretty much the only other scholar in the entire galaxy who could understand how important this tome could be.” Seeing him seemingly unmoved, Chandra thought quickly. “Just let me read the dedication, and I swear I will leave you and not divulge where you are to anyone.” Chandra reeled back at the suspicious glare he sent her. “How the hell do you know about the dedication?” Chandra laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t be obtuse. I might be over two hundred and fifty years your junior, but I am not some ignorant little child as you seem to believe. I know exactly what the dedication is supposed to be the map for. What will I have to do for you to let me view the tome?”

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Both vampires stared warily at each other, refusing to budge an inch. Chandra knew she needed to play her cards just right here to not be left in the cold. Off the top of her head, she couldn’t think of anything she wouldn’t do to view the tome, but knowing Gavreel, he would pick the one thing certain to annoy the shit out of her more than anything else. The minutes ticked by, excruciatingly slowly, and still Chandra refused to back down. She knew sooner or later Gavreel would realize she was as serious about this as she was about most things. Finally, Gavreel turned in his seat to fully face her. “I want your oath you will do what I say.” Chandra frowned, needing more than his decree. “Is that the condition, or what?” “Partially, you are right. I know of no other scholar who would be as dedicated to this cause as you. You irritate me, annoy the hell out of me, but you are one of the finest in our field. If I let you read the dedication—read the entire tome, for that matter—you must swear a blood oath to follow my orders.” Chandra frowned. It was not the worst he could have done, but it was close. “Follow your orders regarding the quest, yes. I agree. A blanket statement like follow your orders could have heinous repercussions in a blood oath.” Vampires could make or take blood oaths. The person making the oath slit a vein. The person to whom the oath was made drank from the cut then healed it. Both parties recited ritual words, explaining the oath and its conditions and limitations. The oath was also utterly unbreakable. Chandra thought through her options, and realized she didn’t have any if she wanted to read that dedication. The knowledge she didn’t have a choice and would certainly make the blood oath took a lot of the stress away from her. Mentally she shrugged, it wasn’t as if this was the worst thing he could have asked for. And the bonus of answering some of her own, most intensely private, personal and desperately wanted questions was something she had never truly thought she would have the chance to answer. “Stroke of luck I needed that volume, huh?” she said cheerily, not wanting to say the words just yet. Wanting to feel free and safe just a moment or two longer. “Lucky for you, maybe,” Gavreel replied without any heat or sting, but still seemingly wary. Chandra glared at the elder vampire and then stuck her tongue out at him. Did he have to be such a stick in the mud all the time, dammit? “If you truly did not need help then there’s no way you would have offered this, Gavreel,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound petulant. “Are your lodgings open? Let’s borrow whatever you need from here and head back there. I refuse to do a blood oath out here in the Colonial Library. Particularly since I have the feeling the topic of the oath might be a tad sensitive.” 123

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When Gavreel merely nodded and began to gather his tomes, handing her a few extra to carry, she remained silent. His not rising to her bait merely confirmed there was far more afoot here than a simple quest, even one as monumental as finding and proving the origin of their species. Chandra looked about the library, breathing in the wisdom of the ages, and tried to gain some of the knowledge encased in the huge room via osmosis. If nothing else, she’d need every iota of brainpower to make sure she wasn’t royally screwed in the blood oath she would be taking before the night was over. Chandra watched as Gavreel scanned the lasers of the texts he required and then stood next to him as he nodded to her. Walking next to each other, Chandra and Gavreel left the sacred hush of the library and headed down the crowded streets toward his lodgings.

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Chapter Thirteen Simeon shut the door with a most forceful slam and leaned against it with a huge sigh of relief. Clare had to giggle at his almost comedic expression of mingled hunger, impatience and relief. “You really probably shouldn’t be quite so relieved to see the back of your brothers, you know,” she said, trying and failing to keep the humor out of her voice. “Are you kidding?” he replied, pushing away from the door and closing the distance between them. “I could barely have waited another minute.” Clare smiled as his lips found hers. She now recognized his taste. Hot, powerful, spicy and just a little musky. He tasted of passion. Acknowledging his point, she angled her head to allow her tongue to slide into his mouth, as her hands framed his face, tucking the stray strand behind his ear where she now knew it would merely fall from again in a moment. She moaned when he slid a hand up under her top, to palm her breasts. “You drive me crazy, Clare. Utterly mad.” “Well, you do the same for me, Simeon. Please hurry,” she panted, feeling the rising of his heat. At her words, she felt it break free, unleashed like some ravenous beast. They only made the few paces back into the main living area, and within seconds she was being pressed down into the couch. “Your room…” She couldn’t speak coherently while kissing him furiously. Her body seemed to be moving of its own volition as his warm, large hands caressed her flesh. He knew all her sensitive spots, under her arm, the back of her neck, the centerline of her chest. How had this vampire taken over her body and mind so quickly? So easily? She felt as if he knew each and every one of her special secrets, and more surprisingly still, she didn’t care he knew such deeply intimate things about her. Her body felt racked with pleasure, almost inundated with the sensations he gave her. She didn’t even need to see the erotic, explicit fantasies dancing in his head to help spur her on. When one particular scene entered his mind, shared with hers, she couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “That’s impossible,” she chuckled. “I’m not that flexible.” “You could be,” he said seductively, nibbling his way down her neck. Clare closed her eyes and let herself be carried away in the feelings he aroused in her. How could one admittedly devastatingly sexy vampire, she reminded herself with a thrill, elicit such a huge response from her? She had always been passionate, but Simeon brought out the inner wanton inside her with barely a flick of his eyes.

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“I figure a couple of warm-up runs, and you could do this,” he teased her as he licked a wet path down her neck. “A couple of warm-up runs, Simeon,” she panted as she struggled to release the words, “and I would be unconscious, not flexible.” Her lover laughed, she opened her eyes to look deeply into his dark brown ones. Passion and love resided in there. She felt her heart overflow. She had read stories where men and women could fall in love, so quickly and easily, yet she had never experienced such a powerful and potent thing for herself. She knew without a shadow of a doubt he cared for her, that he completed her in a way she didn’t fully understand nor even knew existed. He knew all the little things about her and she could feel his desire to make her happy, keep her safe in this odd new world now her own. Clare smiled, knew she could travel throughout this wide-open galaxy, experience new cultures and meet alien, strange new people with this vampire by her side and be happy, content—excited as well. With Simeon by her side, she felt as if she could conquer the world. “You’re thinking about travel,” he said softly. “I will be more than happy to show you all the worlds you like after we’ve located Gav. It won’t take Michael or Rylan long. We probably should make some effort ourselves, as well.” Clare laughed and hit him in the shoulder. As soon as Rylan and Michael had been out of sight Simeon had turned them both around and headed back here. They hadn’t even made it close to the Book Nook before he had been overriding her protests, claiming he needed her body far more than either of them needed to find any tidbits of knowledge Alderic could give them. “We will pick Alderic’s brain later,” she insisted, trying not to break out into giggles, “and I’m sure your brothers will come up with some leads, they’re resourceful guys. We can help them then.” “But for now,” he whispered against her shoulder. Clare chuckled and half sat up on the couch. Bending her back, she once again removed the orange shirt she had come to be quite fond of and her bra. Lifting her hips, she started skimming the pants over her hips, Simeon helping to pull them free of her legs, easily slipping her shoes and socks from her feet. Naked, she turned to her lover. He had already removed his shirt, and was fumbling with the fastening of his pants. Clare placed her hands over his and helped him remove them. With both of them naked, Clare ran her eyes and hands over his handsome form. “You tan?” she asked softly, touching the lightly brown skin. “In the sun,” he said, running his own much larger hands over her soft skin. The friction of the contact of his skin on hers had her shivering. “Most of the ancient tales

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are ludicrous. We’re simply a different species. I can’t wait to show you all the different species and races. We’re a much bigger galaxy than you had any idea of.” Clare smiled, “I’d really like that. Later.” “Definitely. Later,” he said as he bent back to capture her lips. Clare indulged in his lips, his taste, enjoying the intimacy of sharing her mind and thoughts, what pleased her and what she felt curious about. When she pulled away again, Simeon moaned. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” “Not at all,” she laughed, “I just want to try something. Move up a moment.” Clare giggled at the incredulous look he sent her, but Simeon did indeed move back and sit on his knees on the floor. Clare lay down fully on the couch, stretched out like some pagan sacrifice. She reached out and grabbed Simeon’s hand, pulled him closer to her. “Now,” she said, “can you follow my lead?” “What…” Simeon trailed off as Clare sent him a picture. In her mind, she had him bend down and kiss her softly on the lips. A moment later reality mimicked her image. Her picture wavered, as she enjoyed the reality of soft lips pressing over hers, her mouth opened to accept the tongue seeking entrance. Time passed, as they merely kissed, chaste except for the game of tag going on between their eager tongues. Clare sent a new image, of Simeon running his hands over her breasts, palming her nipples. Barely a second passed before she felt the heated warmth of his hands, cupping her breasts and his thumbs flicking over her erect nipples. “We’re playing follow the leader, huh?” Simeon finally replied huskily. Clare smiled into his eyes, his pupils were so dilated they seemed almost black. Her leading him, showing him what she wanted and liked turned him on more than she could have ever guessed. She smiled saucily, incredibly impressed with her unconscious ability to turn him on. She found it excited her to excite him. She swallowed the laugh that bubbled up inside her. “It can be your turn next,” she promised huskily, and sent him a new image. This time while one hand palmed her breast, the other moved down to her curls. She felt Simeon slide up next to her, angle his head over hers as he complied with her thoughts. One hand still cupped the rounded breast, thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipple, but the other slowly flitted down her body, touching and caressing the skin as it went. He made a sound in his throat as he discovered the slight roundness of her belly was particularly sensitive, as her legs shifted restlessly at his caress. Finally, after what felt like an age to her, one thick, warm finger separated the tight folds of her pussy, gently stroking the heated flesh he found there. She moaned, canted her hips so he could slide deeper inside her.

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“Is this what you want?” he murmured huskily as he nuzzled her inner thigh. Clare could feel his thick finger stroking her inner walls. Before she could even reply to his heated question, she felt a second finger slide inside her, joining the first. “Yes,” she muttered huskily, “yes, and I want more.” “I know,” he replied darkly, “I can feel your growing excitement, can feel the pleasure I give you.” Suddenly, Clare could see herself as he saw her. Her face and chest were flushed light red, a heated blush across her face and skin. Her legs were splayed wide, her damp slit lightly covered with dark curls, the heated red depths of it beckoning to him like a siren. Clare could feel his love for her along with his desire. He wanted her desperately, needed her even, to quench the raging hunger inside him, yet she could also sense his softer feelings for her, his protectiveness. He wanted to cherish her, wanted to keep her safe and make her happy. Clare smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “I want you now,” she said, craving to put out the fire she felt so deeply inside herself. “We agreed to do this one slowly,” he said, teasing. Clare watched as he placed another finger inside her, stretching her to her limit. She felt so full, so decadent, she shared the feelings and images with him. She knew she cared about him too, wanted to stay with him. She knew love grew inside her, yet it didn’t feel right to share that with him just yet. The twinkling in his eye showed her she might have already shared her thoughts with him, but he was gentleman enough not to press her. “I want you to come first,” he whispered starkly against her thigh, and as Clare tried to marshal a coherent response, he started suckling her clit, causing her mind to fly open and her body to shake with reaction. I always seem to come first with you, she sent mentally, wondering if he could receive her thoughts with her mind so scattered and unfocused. True, he replied, but this time is special. I can’t explain it better than that. Clare lay back and closed her eyes, wallowing in the sensations he gave her. She cast her mind about, searched around and inside them both for an explanation. When he found her G-spot, stroked it gently and tugged with his tongue on her clit, she flew apart, screaming her climax. That was when she saw it. She and Simeon were in the park—rec-park, she corrected herself—just near their lodgings. The suns were shining, warmly enough for her to be in a tank top and Simeon to have no shirt on. They were dancing under a tree, laughing and twirling each other about in an undignified semi-waltz. The lake shone, shimmered enticingly in the warmth of the two orange suns.

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“Mama!” she heard a young voice call out. Clare pulled away from Simeon and immediately turned around. She saw two dark-brown-haired little boys running toward them, their short little legs pumping wildly, carrying their tiny frames at a face pace across the grass toward her. Clare felt her heart overflow with love for their twin sons. She turned to Simeon who smiled indulgently as the two little boys cried out “Daddy!” and threw themselves into his open and waiting arms. Clare felt her heart constrict, and then expand. An overwhelming love for this man and the two little boys who were the spitting image of each other crashed through her, rocked her and the world she thought she knew onto its axis. One of the little boys literally threw himself out of Simeon’s arms and launched himself at her. The complete and knowing trust she would catch him had her heart beating even faster. Sure enough, Clare found herself catching the little vampire easily, instinctively, as if she had done this a million times before, and would a million times again. Dark brown eyes eerily like Simeon’s bore into her, stealing her heart. She knew she held Zebadiah and Simeon held Ethan. She had tried so hard not to think of these two little babies, worried she had merely hallucinated them, or created them in her mind, yet she could feel Simeon here with her this time. “That was fun, Mama,” Zebadiah said with the certainty only youth can give. “Daddy, I want to do it again!” She held on to the little boy, wriggling like a monkey, and looked at Simeon. She knew her love for him, her adoration of their little boys shone in her eyes, straight from her heart. Clare opened her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she had been holding it while underwater for a full minute. She still could feel the ripples of pleasure from her intense orgasm coursing through her body, sending little jolts of pleasure through her system. Simeon looked down at her, seemingly proud of his accomplishment. He withdrew his fingers, and Clare realized her dream, or vision, or whatever it had been had taken mere seconds, not the minute or even two she had lived through. As she felt Simeon lodge the tip of his cock inside her, she touched his shoulder. “Simeon, we’ve completed each other’s souls,” she started, licking her suddenly dry lips. How could she ask this without giving her vision away? He paused, waited for her to continue. “That means, as you’re in heat, we might create a child…” she trailed off, looking up into his dark, dark brown eyes. She saw a warmth there, a yearning and a flicker of hope. “Does that bother you?” he asked gently. “There are ways I can let us wait. With our souls merged, neither of us will age until we both choose to. Our souls are completing each other. We have a long time, we can wait for the next heat phase.”

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Clare smiled, felt the tiny bud of love inside her begin to grow and flourish in his care and warmth. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. “I think it might be a bit late for that, and I really must warn you,” she said softly as Simeon smiled with pride, his dimples deepening in his cheek, “I won’t negotiate on names.” The brilliance of his smile as he thrust inside her made the heat welling inside her explode. Clare wrapped her legs around Simeon, drew him close. As he gently pressed her upward, urged her to fly at the same pace as he, Clare kept up with him, pressed her nails into his shoulder as the pleasure became unbearable. As they cried out together, screamed their release, Clare could feel the hot stream of his seed as it flooded inside her. She once again saw the little twin boys running toward them across the rec-park. This time, she knew Simeon saw them as well, the stunned amazement on his face evidence he felt as excited and proud as she. “Twins,” he whispered in awe as he pulled himself from her and settled beside her on the couch. He wrapped warm, strong arms around her, and Clare felt a rightness, a peaceful contentment settle deep inside her chest. Even though she could still feel the rumbling lust of his heat phase, sated but not satisfied, she knew somehow the magic in the vampiric tome had brought her here for this man. She had been happy in her old life, but never truly satisfied. Her soul had not had the nourishment and care she had so deeply craved. Here with Simeon, and placing a hand on her stomach, she knew soon her little twins, she could create the life of happiness and joy she had always dreamed of. Simeon spooned her, whispering promises of the cleansing cubicle in his section of the lodgings. She snuggled with him, enjoying the feel of the warmth of his body stretched out along hers. “In a second,” she whispered. “I just want to enjoy this moment. Knowing you, you’ll only get more excited in the shower. Some of us need breathing room.” She chuckled as Simeon laughed and kissed her neck. “It’s you who drives me wild, Clare. With you to satisfy my every need this will likely be the shortest heat phase on record.” Clare smiled and closed her eyes. She dozed, dreams of her twins and the family she and Simeon could create together dancing through her head.

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Epilogue Ruthie continued to stare blankly at the report she was proofing. She had heard the door open, and could feel the vampire who had walked through it. She might not be “one of them”, but both her parents had been members of the Force, and both had trusted their instincts and intuition completely. They had raised her, their daughter and only child, to believe all her gut instincts, to listen to the clues her mind gave her, and had helped teach her to hone her intuition. She was by no means psychic, but she was only a few steps away from it on her good days. However, she needed no nudge from her mind, none of her other senses to tell her it was Rylan Montague who walked through her door. Her own juvenile crush on the man helped her plenty with recognizing him—the scent of his aftershave, and the sounds of the tread of his feet on the outdated but exceedingly useful tiles. She struggled desperately to not remember how she had last seen the deliciously handsome man. Naked, lying next to her in the bed they had shared. Ruthie had woken up from passing out drunk wearing a soft cotton shirt she still had no knowledge how he had found in the empty hotel room. She had been almost obscenely grateful to find herself still in her own panties, but other than that and the shirt, she hadn’t been wearing much else at all. Deep inside herself, she knew Rylan Montague hadn’t taken advantage of her, but a treacherous part of her wished he had given her the option. Before she had passed out on him that was. Oh yeah. The Annual Vampiric Desperate and Dateless ball had been one hell of a blast. Ruthie pushed the memory far, far into the back of her mind, and she wondered for a moment what her parents would have thought of him, had they still been on this plane. Ruthie continued to move her eyes as if she read the report she wasn’t focusing on. She imagined a meeting between her parents and Rylan, but her mind couldn’t conjure up how they would have reacted to each other. Finally, he broke the silence between them. “I’m not here to bug you, Ruthie,” he said in that deep, sexy tone that never failed to make her melt. Already she could feel the cream gather in her panties. “I’m here on legitimate business,” he continued. “You can quit pretending to read that holo-report.” Ruthie looked up and nearly drowned in the dark brown eyes that haunted her dreams and fantasies way too much for her peace of mind. Not a single night had gone

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by since the D and D ball where she hadn’t imagined and fantasized what could have happened between them. She blinked, cast a critical eye over the blue slacks and red shirt which only deepened the color of his eyes and made her want to run her hands through the shoulder-length curls which always seemed to be so neatly arranged. Dammit, she had to get over this silly schoolgirl crush! Her hands even now itched to run through the soft strands and muss them up a bit. Instead, she set up a new screen on her PCC and nodded for Rylan to take the seat opposite her. “Legitimate business, huh?” she replied, pleased to hear the cynicism in her own words. “I didn’t think you even knew what that was, Ry. What do you need?” Ruthie firmly ignored the dark, wicked look in his eyes, which clearly stated that he wanted her, that he had a million naughty suggestions to her standard offer of help. She glared at him, letting her temper rise to the surface. It would be far safer for them both if she stayed angry with him, not flirting or let him realize just how badly she wanted him, even more desperately so since that fateful night at the ball. Besides, a quick fling was not her style when it came to vampires. Too many times she had seen her friends have a “fling” with a vampire and for he—or she—to move on and her friend spiral into a depression over how no one else could ever match up. She might be merely mortal and mostly human, but her parents had both been Force members as well as mercs in their time. They had trained her for as long as she could remember in the art of protecting her mind from outside telepathy, friendly or not. Ruthie was not worried in the slightest about whether her mind or heart would be open to a vampire. It was her soul she worried about, particularly when she thought of how addictive vampire sex could become if one were weak enough to overindulge. Everyone knew what sexual creatures vampires were, and how they were brilliant for a night or two, but one could become addicted to the pleasure they could bring. In her saner moments, Ruthie knew she didn’t want to taste something that good for a night, only to hunger for it forever afterwards. Yet for the first time in all the years she had known him, Rylan seemed to be almost serious, not the usual joking, horny young vampire he usually paraded as a façade. Curiously entranced, Ruthie watched him warily. She had seen Rylan in hundreds of different moods over the last number of years, most of them some variation of teasing or flirty. A serious Rylan looked almost broodingly handsome, far more potent and dangerous to her peace of mind than the normal flirty, devil-may-care vampire. “I need your help in tracking down Gavreel,” he said, slowly, carefully and excruciatingly serious.

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Ruthie felt her stomach sink, and she knew she had an upset expression on her face. There was no way Rylan was teasing, yanking her chain or lying to her. For starters it would be far, far too easy for her to check everything out with his twin, Simeon, or their elder brother Michael. Neither was there a chance she could turn Rylan away out of hand. If the Montague sire was truly missing then she owed it not only to Rylan and his siblings to help out in every way possible, but she was also damnably fond of the old man himself. Ruthie felt her head lighten. The crushing knowledge she would be working a case in close contact with Rylan Montague, playboy extraordinaire and sexpot wet dream of every woman in the known lower hemisphere, threatened to drown her for a moment. Worse came the knowledge she could not in good faith turn him away. If Gavreel Montague were missing, she would simply have to work the case, which would mean a lot more time spent with the intoxicatingly wonderful Rylan Montague. Ruthie tried to breathe evenly and deeply, to stave off the dizzying sense of a hyperventilating panic attack she could feel creeping up on her. She couldn’t think of a more painful torture than to work with and look, but not touch, taste or tease this vampire in front of her. And worse, she couldn’t afford to let him see the faintest chink in her armor, or they would both be sunk as Rylan had made it more than perfectly clear on many an occasion he was more than up for a roll in the sack. Ruthie carefully and surreptitiously breathed deeply, using sheer force of will to get rid of the flighty panic building up in her. When she had regained a small measure of control, she nibbled her lower lip, debated silently for a split second just how smart it would be to take the case on. After less than a minute, she sighed and began typing up the initial client details. There was no way in hell she could turn Rylan down. Avoid him and tease him she might, but he was her friend, as were Michael and Simeon. Gavreel, himself, was a wonderful man and had helped her out with her research on occasion. She would have to work her way through this, unable to even bear the thought of putting one of her associates on the case. Barely even looking at her keypad, she opened a new file. Client: Rylan Montague Case: Searching for Gavreel Montague, Sire Details: Ruthie paused, letting the cursor flash for a moment. She looked up, her green eyes clashing with his gorgeous, much darker brown ones. She had a flicker of annoyance, but resigned herself to spending the next few days, or maybe weeks, in close contact with the one vampire she didn’t trust herself to resist. “Tell me about the case, absolutely everything you know,” she started in her clipped working voice. “We’ll move from there.”

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Ruthie began to type as Rylan spoke.

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About the Author Elizabeth Lapthorne is an Aussie girl, born, bred and living in Melbourne, Victoria. She graduated with a Bachelor of Science from Melbourne University and wrote her first story while looking for a job. Two and a half years later, with a Research position in a lovely company and seven published works, Elizabeth is still slightly dazed at how everything fell into place. She had written a well-received series about the Rutledge Werewolves, and is often amused at fans/reviewers commenting on how “popular” her series is. Very recently she started to tell people about her writing career and even confessed to her parents (though she did chicken out with the explanation of what “Romantica” is). She still finds it incredibly strange to be able to order paperbacks written by herself, and is shaking with nerves at what the hell she’ll write when finally asked for her first autograph. Elizabeth is completely addicted to Tim Tams and chocolate, and barely ever goes a day without one or the other. She loves email, is a self confessed bookaholic, and has been known to buy books instead of food for herself, much to the teasing of her brothers and good friends. She was astonished recently to be asked to do an interview…and spent a long time chewing over her responses. She loves people and adores going out for a girl’s night for nachos and margaritas (unless she’s designated driver, and then she eats chocolate mousse for dessert instead). Elizabeth welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Also by Elizabeth Lapthorne Behind the Mask anthology Bonded for Eternity Desperate and Dateless Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails I anthology Lion In Love Merc and Her Men Payback Rutledge Werewolves 1: Scent of Passion Rutledge Werewolves 2: Hide and Seek Rutledge Werewolves 3: The Mating Game Rutledge Werewolves 4: My Heart’s Passion Rutledge Werewolves 5: Chasing Love

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com