Slayer

She knew all at once that he was going to kiss her … He was tall, and his black hair fell in layered waves around a ruggedly good-looking face. His shadow beard added mystery to his chiseled features. His clothes were expensive and jet-black. Black leather jacket, black tee beneath it, and black jeans and silver-tipped black boots. Whoa—just who was this? Vampire—that’s who! All at once Nikki’s slayer sense kicked in and told her, Stupid … he’s a vampire. He was not like any vamps she had ever encountered … She eyed him speculatively, but before she could retort he had her shoulders and brought her in close. A sizzling, spidery electricity tickled the air between them … He bent to her face and whispered something that made her toes curl, not because she heard the words but because his low, husky, and sensuous voice rocked her hormones into place and made her body tingle. She knew all at once that he was going to kiss her. He was actually going to kiss her, and she couldn’t stop herself from wanting that kiss. What the hell was wrong with her? She should stomp on his foot—kick him in the groan, wallop him one across the face, and break the mood. She had the strength, the skill … and absolutely no inclination to do so. His mouth was on hers, at first gently and deliciously. She had no will of her own as her lips betrayed her good sense and parted to invite his tongue to stay awhile. And that was exactly what she got—a kiss that drowned her in passion and filled her head with exploding rockets. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t pull away, and she didn’t want to. Gone! Zap—he was gone faster than any vampire she had ever witnessed on the move. She stood for a long moment, and the question reared its ugly head and demanded, Were you under a vampire trance? The answer was a big fat no. It would have been such an easy answer, and one that could have wiped the shame from her conscious, but it wouldn’t have been true. Slayers couldn’t be mesmerized by vamps—slayers were immune to most vampire magic. The next question sent the blood to her cheeks. You wanted the vampire Damon Drummond to kiss you—didn’t you, Nikki Walker?

Other books by Claudy Conn Spellbound—Legend Shee Willow—Legend Trapped—Legend Shadowlove—Stalkers Darklove (December 2011)

Written as Claudette Williams After the Storm Blades of Passion Cassandra Cherry Ripe Cotillion for Mandy Courting Christina A Daring Deceit Desert Rose, English Moon Fire and Desire Heart of Fancy Lady Barbara Lady Bell Lady Madcap Lady Magic Lady Runaway Lady Sunshine Lady Velvet Lord Wildfire

Masquerade Waltz Myriah Passion's Pride A Rake's Folly Regency Star Sassy Song of Silkie Spring Gambit Sunday's Child The Convenient Romance Jewelene Lacey Naughty Lady Ness Mary, Sweet Mary Lady Brandy Hotspur & Taffeta Sweet Disorder

Five Stars for ShadowLove—Stalkers ShadowLove—Stalkers is hot, Hot, HOT Avid vampire and paranormal romance enthusiasts are in for a darkly delicious thrill when they sink their teeth into Claudy Conn’s newest series, ShadowLove—Stalkers. Conn has a gift for character and plot development that sets her work apart from other romance novelists. ShadowLove—Stalkers is filled with steaming action and dramatic tension … Claudy delicately plants the seeds for future development and characters without distracting from the excitement and romance of Stalkers. The result is that she has a paranormal, vampire series, of romance novels, which carries her own unique and spicy aroma. Claudy fills her stories with enough passion to make the pages spark, sizzle, and steam. She doesn't skimp when it comes to building sexy into her characters. The women are luscious and the men … well, the action doesn't stop with the plot. She really knows how to make us tingle with anticipation for her next book. ShadowLove—Stalkers is hot, Hot, HOT … and yes, I am blushing.

~ Vonnie Faroqui, Ink Slinger's Whimsey

Acclaim for Spellbound—Legend One hot and thrilling book I fell for all three of the main characters, fun loving Maxie, dark and brooding Julian, and one hot Fae, Breslyn. However, it wasn’t just the characters that kept me on the edge of my seat, it was the entire involved plot that included jealously, betrayal, magic, murder, and, of course, hot passion … Like all good thrillers, it seemed as one problem was solved another would spring up. The last few pages had me hoping that this is the first of a new series that will be worth each torturous wait for the next book. The well-written out mixture of myth and legend, not to mention the characters, all in today’s world has me Joyfully Recommending Spellbound—Legend as one book you won’t want to miss.

~ Jo, Joyfully Reviewed This is one book I’ll never forget The author has done a magnificent job of creating the world of the Tuatha De Danaan, the Druids and the humans who interact with them. She succeeds in making them so realistic, I found myself believing they really exist—and who knows, perhaps they do … Their dangerous situations had me on the edge of my seat, while the loves scenes had me enthralled. I am excited about this book, which, apparently, is the first of a series, and will definitely begin collecting them as they become available. This author will become one of my favorites.

~ Jaye Leyel, The Romance Studio

Praise for Shee Willow—Legend Five Stars! A Joyfully Recommended Read, June 2011 Once again Conn ignites the page with hunk madness Shee Willow carries us deep into the world of Fae intrigue and danger … exciting and fast paced, this is a novel with plenty of plot twists and surprises to support the romance … Conn brings back the cast of Faery characters we fell in love with from Spellbound—Legend, deepening the Seelie intrigues, romance, and dangers in part two of the series. Conn is in high form and

never shorts her heroine or her reader. Once again Conn ignites the page with hunk madness, as every which way Willow turns brings hot potential for love and misdirection. It is pure torture deciding which of the men or Fae to fantasize over, and I do so love the bad ones!

~ Vonnie Faroqui, Ink Slinger’s Whimsey A great combination of paranormal, scorching romance, and suspense! Ms. Conn again brings readers a different side of lore and allure surrounding the Fae. Willow and Shayne’s storyline was magical, in the sense that you knew something greater, deeper was in store for them. Then add Breslyn, the Dagda Prince, childhood crush of Willow, into the mix … just get comfy, because you are in for a heck of a rollercoaster … Thankfully, another title will be released soon. I cannot wait until the simmering conflict between the Seelie Fae and Unseelie Fae reaches its boiling point!

~ Monica Solomon, The Romance Readers Connection

ShadowHeart Slayer Shadow Series, Book 2 By

Claudy Conn

Edited by: Karen Babcock Cover Artist: Rae Monet

All rights reserved Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Claudy Conn http://claudyconn.embarqspace.com/ Copyright © 2011 by Claudy Conn Published in the United States of America September 2011

Dedication I would like to dedicate this to my editor, Karen Babcock … editor supreme!

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, (And) - A light from the shadows shall spring— — J.R.R. Tolkien

~ Prologue ~ DAMON DRUMMOND STOOD on a rooftop—arms at his side, legs spread in a wide stance—and stared at the scene that had just begun to unfold five stories below in an alleyway only dimly lit by the lights from the various apartments above it. At both ends of the alley, New York City was ablaze with activity and bright with its city lights. Even at one in the morning the streets were still filled with a flow of people out on the town. Damon made quite a picture. His black, thick hair fell in layered waves and framed his handsome face. The wind at the top of the building whipped at his shiny locks and at his tall, rugged body, but he didn’t bother to zip his black leather jacket closed. He rubbed his cold hands against his jeans as he watched the red-haired beauty below lure her prey deeper into the deserted alley. Damon’s eyes, brightly alert with interest, were lit in their recesses with gold at a striking variance with their dark depths. He was keenly intrigued as he studied her style and took her measure, filing away his observations as though he were a research scientist observing an exotic new species. He watched her move and sway and entice her prey deeper into her web, and he waited for the inevitable. This was not the first time he had followed her into the night. He saw the newbie slink in after her as the beauty pretended she didn’t know he was coming up behind her. She put on a grand show. Damon saw that her hand was already inside her unbuttoned denim jacket, and he knew her fingers were wrapped around her deadly weapon. She stopped, turned, and pushed a long strand of her fire-lit hair away from her provocative features. She smiled bewitchingly at the young man now tripping with anxious need and awful, raging blood-lust towards her. Her voice was disdainful when she spoke. “Oh—hi there … Are you following me?” An animal grunt came out of the newbie’s mouth as his lips drew back, and he bared his fangs. What happened next went down so swiftly that a lesser person watching would not have realized the skill and strength it had taken. It looked so easy … she made it look so easy, but Damon knew otherwise. A newbie’s brutal strength was derived from the bloodlust, and no human could withstand its onslaught. The newbie charged, but she went into a spin and was lightly, easily, and gymnastically out of his way and at his back. Before the newly made vamp understood

enough to recover, she had her sharply pointed stake plunged into the nape of his neck and just as quickly had it withdrawn. He turned to stare, stunned but not down. He made an agonized sound and reached back for his neck. His hand filled with blood, and he stared at his hand as his body filled with the poison that wood inflicts on a vampire. She took his moment of confusion and used it to ram the wooden stake into his undead heart, and he collapsed in a heap. He stared at her before he whispered, “Your time … will come …” She stood back from him for a moment as though saying a prayer. Then she withdrew the stake, wrapped it in some kind of cloth, and slipped it into its Kevlar sheath, which was strapped around her shoulder under her jacket. Damon’s dark, well-shaped eyebrow arched with interest as she turned and slowly walked away, leaving the body in the alleyway. A newbie vampire would not disintegrate. She didn’t seem to care. He supposed, as she did, that the police would list it as they did so many others as an unsolved case, and it would be filed with the cold cases as time went by. The beauty picked up her pace, and Damon noted the style of her walk was controlled; she was careful not to use her slayer ability at super-speed. He couldn’t stop himself from noting that her butt was perfectly shaped and tantalizing, and he could see she didn’t give a damn about her looks. She had only one goal, and that goal was totally at odds with his. She was confident—probably overconfident, and that wasn’t good. She was killing at least two vampires nearly every other night, and one of these nights she would come across a vampire who knew just how to handle and overcome her … However, she was smart, and she had been piecing the puzzle together. She had discovered bits and crumbs, and she’d tracked the clues relentlessly. It had Damon deeply concerned, because she was looking for one vampire in particular. The beauty’s name was Nikki Walker. She was a vampire slayer, and Damon Drummond—well, he was a vampire …

~ One ~ NIKKI STARED UP at the small inn not too far from Harcourt Street in Dublin. It was a perfect location. Quiet, and it seemed to cater to older couples and a few business sorts. It wasn’t too far from the Temple Bar area, where she would do her vampire scouting, and so it was perfect for a home base. She picked up her two bags and climbed the high steps that took her inside, where a small but brightly lit lobby greeted her. A man behind a mahogany counter, with an office of sorts at his back, caught her attention with his deep, Irish brogue, and she had to concentrate in order to understand what he was saying. He laughed and clipped whatever he had said into a simple, “Good morn’ to ye, miss.” “Oh hi …” Nikki smiled as she put down her suitcases and moved towards him. “I have reservations … Nikki Walker.” “Ah, yes … ye requested the top floor … a suite.” He looked to be in his early twenties, and she couldn’t help but notice that he gave her an interested once over as inconspicuously as he could before he gently pushed some papers across the wooden high counter for her to sign and requested to see her passport. As she bent to take care of the paperwork, her long, gold-lit red hair fell about her face. She pushed it away, looked up, and saw that he was staring. She smiled amiably as she could see he was about to ask a question. “Are ye here on business then?” She smiled and said ambiguously, “In a manner of speaking.” “Oh, aye then,” was what he thought an appropriate response, and Nikki gave him a warm, friendly smile. It was obvious that he wondered what a young (and she could see he thought her pretty) woman was doing all alone at a hotel frequented by the senior crowd on this quiet street in Dublin. He couldn’t know it was the perfect place for what she had to accomplish. Quiet and secluded was everything she needed. She wasn’t who she had been, not anymore. She didn’t feel young and pretty and ready to take on the world in the normal way young women did. Graduate school was a thing relegated to another time in the future … friends, love … out of the picture for now. What her mother had told her was her birthright (or bane depending on how you looked at it) had come to pass. She was a vampire slayer, and she had more than slaying vampire after vampire on her mind. She wanted one in particular—the one that had murdered her brother! She knew the vamp was a female of some years and experience, and she knew that the dangerous female vamp was known as Deadly Moon. She and her brother had lost their parents to a drunk driver when she was sixteen, and her brother had stepped in and become the sun, the stars, ‘the everything’ she needed to get through the heartache of their loss. Jack had even taken over where her mother had left off and did his best to train her to become the slayer she might one day have to be.

During those early days with her mom, she had kept her own council. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint her mother by telling her that ‘slaying vampires’ was not something she had ever wanted to do. And then her mother and father were gone, and she wanted to accomplish all the goals her mother had set for her. She heard her mother whispering in her ear, “Baby … I know this doesn’t seem fair … all this extra work, but one day it will save your life. Want it or not, you are a slayer, and one of them might come for you …” Jack wasn’t a slayer by birth, but he had learned everything he could from his parents and took up the job of ‘slayer training’ when they lost their parents. She’d allowed him to put her through all the trials, the gymnastics, the karate, the wielding of the deadly wooden stake, but now Jack was gone as well. He was gone because of a vampire, and she wanted to rip the creature from limb to limb and feed the pieces to the beasts of hell … Nikki had money enough. Their parents had left them comfortably provided for, and Jack had made a fortune in the computer software business and left everything to her. The weeks before she lost her brother, Nikki had graduated from NYU. Jack had managed to pull on a few friendship strings and got her started doing little fluff pieces for a national travel magazine. She had been accepted to graduate school and had been looking forward to it and the life that went with it … but, no longer. She had to find his killer, and she had the advantage of her slayer abilities. She had questioned the police about what they knew, but all they had been able to tell her was that Jack Walker had met an incredibly beautiful woman at some charity function at Lincoln Center and that they had left together. Jack had been found in a suite at the Plaza with his throat torn and most of the blood drained from his body. The police thought it was a serial killer, but Nikki knew better. She called on her slayer skills and went to work. She quietly, unobtrusively took on her own investigation and painstakingly followed where the details took her. It was leading her to a vampire of unusual abilities, and she would have to be careful, because although she might have super-hearing, super-speed, and super-strength, she could be killed as easily as any human. She was not immortal. The same week that Jack had been mutilated and killed, she went out looking for information. She visited the clubs she knew vamps frequented in NYC when they went looking for easy prey. She had walked into one dance club and was surprised to see a great number of vamps mingling with petty, expectant women. She made her selection and sidled up to him. He wasn’t expecting an attack from a human. He didn’t know she was a slayer because she hid it well. And so her first encounter went off easier than she had expected. It wasn’t difficult to get him into a position in the dark alley behind the club where she laid him low with the skill and the strength that was hers as a slayer. Some of her success was due to the shock and surprise he experienced when she threw him hard to the ground. The rest was the point of the wooden stake held directly and threateningly to his cold heart. She explained to him then that she would free him if he told her what she wanted to know. He wasn’t a newbie, but he didn’t have a great number of years or experience as a vampire, so he caved immediately and told her that the rumor was Deadly Moon had

been with the Walker human. It was the first time she had heard a name in relation to the dangerous, ‘never seen ancient’ vampire. He told her everyone in vamp circles was talking about it because Deadly Moon did not usually make a spectacle of her kills. He didn’t know anything more, but instead of setting him free as she had promised, Nikki had made her first vampire kill. Remorse? None. She had not kept her word—she had not released him when he gave her the information—but she had no regret. He wouldn’t be able to kill some poor, hapless human, now would he? Everything she did from that moment on was with the intent of finding Deadly Moon, the vampire other vamps seemed to fear. Nikki knew enough to be discreet when she singled out a vampire for questioning … and killing. She never did so when other vamps could look on and listen in. Her latest kill, two nights ago, had won her the information that Deadly Moon was in Dublin. Nikki still had no description of the female vamp. None seemed to know her, only of her. Nikki put aside these thoughts as she took the key the man at the counter handed her and went to the small elevator. She had taken the largest suite he had, as she didn’t know how long she would have to be in Dublin. She had been to Dublin and the Irish countryside once before, with her brother … She arrived at her door, #110, and opened it wide before she stepped in. The day was misty and gray. Night would come fast on a day like this. She scanned the place with more than her eyes as she stepped inside. All clear … Or so she thought. A hand came from nowhere and clamped down on her mouth. Another strong, muscled arm went around her and pinned her arms at her side, and a voice with a distinguished English accent whispered in her ear, “Go home, Nikki Walker, before you get yourself killed.” She tried to spin around and see her attacker, but even with her super-strength she couldn’t budge. One hand was still on her mouth, but the other managed to slip under her open jacket. She struggled hard then, harder than she had ever done before, but he was too strong and quick for her. He snatched her weapon and tossed it before he let go of her mouth and turned her to face him. She could have screamed then, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to bring attention to herself, especially on her first day. And there was something in this one’s aura that made her think he wasn’t really there to harm her—after all, he had warned her off instead of immediately killing her. So instead of screaming like a banshee, which she desperately wanted to do, she looked him over. What she saw made her raise her dark eyebrows. He was tall, and his black hair fell in layered waves around a ruggedly good-looking face. His shadow beard added mystery to his chiseled features. His clothes were expensive and jet-black. Black leather jacket, black tee beneath it, and black jeans and silver-tipped black boots. Whoa—just who was this? Vampire—that’s who! All at once Nikki’s slayer sense kicked in and told her, Stupid … he’s a vampire.

As though reading her mind he chuckled. “Aye, then—that established—all I am here for today is to indulge in a reasonable discussion.” “That established—what established?” she returned warily. Had he read her mind? Different vamps had different ‘abilities’. A short laugh escaped his lips, but then he grew serious all at once. “Let’s skip the game playing, Nikki, shall we?” “I will if you will, English …” “Again, game playing,” he chided. “I’m not playing a game. How could I when I don’t know the rules?” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t play with strangers. You know my name … I don’t know yours.” “Rules, eh? I shall have to list some for you. Firstly, and most importantly, stay out of my way—meaning, don’t look for Deadly Moon. As to my name?” He inclined his head and brought up his dark eyes to her face. “My name is Damon Drummond.” Nikki stiffened and shot him a warning look. “I have no quarrel with you, Damon Drummond. I don’t know how you know what you do, but I don’t follow other people’s rules—especially when the person listing the rules is a … vampire. Deadly Moon and I … we have a problem, and I mean to solve it.” “You will have two problems if you keep trying to track her.” Was he threatening her? It felt like he was threatening her, and yet, she didn’t really feel threatened. What then? Was he saying that he would be a problem for her if she didn’t stop tracking Deadly Moon? Why? And if that was so, well then, he seemed to think a great deal of himself, and something told Nikki that he probably had cause to do so. He was not like any vamps she had ever encountered. She also wondered if Deadly Moon was his lover. She eyed him speculatively, but before she could retort he had her shoulders and brought her in close. A sizzling, spidery electricity tickled the air between them. “I have never seen anything like you, Nikki Walker. From the top of your fiery head to your dainty and dangerous feet, you are unique. You look at me with eyes the deepest shade of blue I have ever encountered in all my four hundred years, and it would be a shame to see them permanently closed.” “Are you threatening to do that—permanently close my eyes?” Nikki shook her head, “Then go ahead, have at me, because nothing is going to stop me. My brother’s eyes were even more blue than mine, and his were permanently closed before his time … I don’t mean to suffer the same fate … at least not until I get my ounce of justice for him.” She held herself stiffly aloof. “So that brings us to my rules … the first being, stay out of my way, Damon Drummond, and perhaps I will let you live.” It was bluster, she knew. This vamp could do her in with the blink of his eye. He smirked at her and said, “You will get yourself killed if you throw words like that at some vamp you simply cannot take because he has age and experience, and there are some out there, slayer, that you cannot take.” He let her go and wagged a finger at her, “So you want to know if I am threatening you. Fine. Call it what you will, it is still a warning. If you pursue Deadly Moon, you will find yourself a target because your presence will become obvious in their world, and these are bad times in Dublin.” “You don’t know me. You are not concerned for me, but for Deadly Moon, and so everything you say—jaded. I keep my own council.”

“Relieve yourself of the illusion that you are any threat to her. You are like a fly she can swat out of her way.” “Then why are you here—warning me away?” “I have my reasons.” “You have wasted your time.” “I see that …” He suddenly reached for her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. He bent to her face and whispered something that made her toes curl, not because she heard the words but because his low, husky, and sensuous voice rocked her hormones into place and made her body tingle. She knew all at once that he was going to kiss her. He was actually going to kiss her, and she couldn’t stop herself from wanting that kiss. What the hell was wrong with her? She should stomp on his foot—kick him in the groan, wallop him one across the face, and break the mood. She had the strength, the skill … and absolutely no inclination to do so. His mouth was on hers, at first gently and deliciously. She had no will of her own as her lips betrayed her good sense and parted to invite his tongue to stay awhile. And that was exactly what she got—a kiss that drowned her in passion and filled her head with exploding rockets. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t pull away, and she didn’t want to. Gone! Zap—he was gone faster than any vampire she had ever witnessed on the move. She stood for a long moment, and the question reared its ugly head and demanded, Were you under a vampire trance? The answer was a big fat no. It would have been such an easy answer, and one that could have wiped the shame from her conscience, but it wouldn’t have been true. Slayers couldn’t be mesmerized by vamps—slayers were immune to most vampire magic. The next question sent the blood to her cheeks. You wanted the vampire Damon Drummond to kiss you—didn’t you, Nikki Walker?

~ Two ~ NIKKI WAS STILL thinking about Damon Drummond after she took to the sidewalk and walked as per the hotel clerk’s directions towards Harcourt Street. She wore a black cocktail dress made of silk chiffon that hugged her shape, and if things had been different, she would have been pleased with the way she looked. It was a cool night even though the rain had held off, and she wore a black satin coat fitted at the waist over the little dress. Black sandal heels completed the picture. Her fiery hair was loose around her pert and lovely face, and her blue eyes were alert as she scanned the crowd. She spotted what she had been looking for. He was tall, lean, and hungry looking. His amber-lit dark eyes were bright in the night, and he looked like he needed to feed … Nikki held back, watching to see which pub or nightclub he would enter. She saw him stop in front of a stone façade building with an elegant black awning whose gold letters identified it as Club Merlot. A bouncer was situated on either side of the open double doors, and the lanky vamp nodded to them as he went in. Nikki wasn’t shy about being unescorted or without a supportive and giggling gal pal at her side. She was out on business, and all that ‘once upon a time’ schoolgirl shyness was gone. She gave each of the staring bouncers a seductive smile, which elicited a few choice flirtatious remarks from them. She laughed and went into the dimly lit hallway just inside the club. She checked her coat with the scantily dressed girl at the closet counter but kept her shoulder tote bag tight at her side. It didn’t quite make it as an evening bag, but it held the things she needed. The place rocked with the music from a live band, and she made her way through the throng of dancers to the long, beautifully cherry wood and richly engraved and molded bar. She took her seat, ordered a Guinness, and unobtrusively did a survey of her surroundings and the people within. A voice at her back startled her, and it took some effort not to jump or whirl, but she was getting good at hiding such emotions. She could never show fear … Slowly she turned her chin and glanced at the man with the deeply Irish and amiable voice. He smiled at her and offered, “I am sorry … I didn’t mean to take ye unawares but, I saw ye as soon as ye came in and … I thought I would come over and introduce meself.” “Did you?” He was a tall Irishman with a good-looking, ruddy complexion. His eyes looked hazel in the dim light, and his hair was a light shade of chestnut brown. She immediately liked the ‘look’ of him. He put up his hands. “Whoa there, darlin’—no harm intended …”

She noticed with a rueful smile that he still hadn’t left and acceded, “None taken.” “Good … good … I’m John Patrick.” He extended his hand, and Nikki laughed. “Ye are supposed to return the favor,” he offered helpfully. “Being?” “Yer name, darlin’ … yer name?” He presented an intriguing picture, and she allowed him a half smile, “Nikki …” she answered with a slight hesitation, and then added, “Walker.” “And what would Nikki Walker be doing here all alone?” “Why, is this a dangerous place?” He laughed. “Now dangerous is a word that might mean different things to different people. Look around … does my club look dangerous?” “Not exactly and yet … perhaps,” Nikki returned with the same teasing quality he was using. She could see that she had caught his interest. He looked her over thoughtfully, and his voice was low and inviting. “Aye, perhaps to the likes of that one …”—he indicated a woman, scantily garbed and ready for action, with a movement of his chin—“… looking for trouble she can’t manage … or that one, but … ah now, why do I think ye are the one right able to handle the trouble ye are looking for?” “Because I can,” Nikki said on a small laugh. He beamed at her and moved in closer. “And why is it, Nikki Walker, that ye don’t have a man at yer side … looking like you do?” “Oh … but I do.” Nikki’s blue eyes lit up with amusement. He inclined his head. “Why, thank ye … but ye are evading the question.” “I came here to relax after a long day … hear the music, watch the dancing—nothing more.” “Well then, as proprietor of this establishment, I shall make it my business to make certain that is what you get—music, dancing, relaxation. However, I will have to stay close by in order to accomplish my task.” Nikki laughed right out loud, and it felt good. Amidst her grieving for her brother, ‘slaying vampires’, and living these last few weeks alone, she had kept friends at a distance; laughing had become a memory. Now, it served as a release. He smiled, and she could see he was well pleased with himself. He had sized her up as no easy target and was satisfied with the results of his flirtation. “So you own this club, John Patrick?” Nikki eyed him openly and decided he couldn’t be more than twenty-nine or thirty years old. “You don’t look old enough.” “And yet, here I am.” He reached over to the bar and took up the drink the bartender had slid his way. A glass of white wine, which surprised Nikki, but she made no remark. He sipped and added after a moment, “It wasn’t easy … achieving all this …” “Do you like what you built—what you do?” Her blue eyes casually swept the room, and Nikki made certain that her facial expression gave away nothing. “It suits me now … who knows about later?” He eyed her mischievously, and there was a definite invitation to raise the bar of their flirtation. Nikki ignored the invitation. Her voice was, however, soft as she said, “You have some interesting … clientele.” A rueful grin lit his face as he looked around the dance floor. “Aye, all sorts …” And then he beamed saucily at her. “Tourists included—but they are all well behaved in my

place. I don’t tolerate any nonsense. I want my female patrons to feel safe enough to …” He grinned at her. “… walk in here … alone.” She smiled and pointed with her chin towards the lanky vampire, who was hitting on a pretty brunette. “That guy doesn’t quite look like he fits in.” “What do you mean?” “Well, sure he appears to be on his best behavior, but there is something about his style—his clothes and the way he carries himself—that doesn’t seem right. Don’t you see it?” Nikki said this on an idle note as she watched John Patrick’s face closely for his reaction. She had heard that some nightclub owners looked the other way when the ‘wrong set’ spent big bucks at their establishments. Of course, they wouldn’t know that they were vampires, but they knew something wasn’t right. She was curious about John Patrick and about what he knew or didn’t know. “That one has been coming in here quite a bit lately. Leaves with a different woman every night—and I did wonder at it.” He shrugged. “No accounting for a woman’s taste in these matters, and I suppose some ladies like the gruff sort.” She shook her head and started to get up. He was going to make a move on her, and she had to put an immediate stop to it. She didn’t have time or patience for romance. All she wanted was information, and she had already discovered quite enough to pursue. “Time to call it a night. Jet lag seems to be setting in,” Nikki said with a visible attempt at stifling a yawn. “Where are ye staying, love? I’d like to call ye and set up a date to go to dinner, where we could get to know one another better.” “I’ll probably swing by here in the next night or two …” She was already on her feet and pushing the bar stool away as she started forward. He had her elbow as he walked with her to the coat check woman. “You aren’t walking home alone … are you, Nikki?” “Yes. I like the cool night air.” “Let me call a cab.” “No … the walk will do me good. Don’t worry, John Patrick. I will be just fine,” she reassured him, thinking he was sweet to be concerned. He frowned but seemed to realize it wasn’t his place to insist. He helped her with her coat, tipped the coat check girl for her, and walked her outside. “Come back soon, Nikki.” As an answer she smiled, slung her bag over her shoulder, and started off. There were enough revelers and lights ablaze on the avenue, and she wasn’t expecting anything to happen quite yet. She had, however, made up her mind to return to Club Merlot soon—very soon, and it wasn’t because of the sweet-talking proprietor, John Patrick. It was because there were a whole lot more than the one lanky vampire patronizing that club … and all of them males! Something very odd was going on there, but what it was that was different from the usual scenario of boy meets girl, boy takes girl out back, boy turns into vampire and bites girl was beyond her understanding. She had one short, very dimly lit avenue to put behind her before she would reach the brightly lit entrance of her small inn. She felt prickles cover her skin, and a wave of electricity pulled at the hairs at the nape of her neck. When she entered the dim alleyway she had expected something. She had seen him

eye her sideways as she left alone, and even so, even knowing, her entire body tensed as she chased off the fear. She knew who it was that was following her. She pretended to bend to fix her shoe and looked around as she brought herself back up. He wasn’t readily in sight, but she knew he was nearby. She had set herself up as a target, and he had taken the bait. He was gaining ground, and she knew he was probably anxious to get to her near the darkest part of the park. Her hand went into her large bag as she picked up her pace and chose her place of reckoning. As she had anticipated he charged and landed on her back. Stake raised in her firm grasp, she used her slayer strength—enough, but not too much—and threw him off her back and got him off balance. She turned to face him, and as she had expected, it was the lanky vampire.

~ Three ~ “WHAT’S THE MATTER, fella … wouldn’t anyone leave with you tonight?” A grim smile curved Nikki’s full lips. A threat dripped off her words. Her weapon was deadly and poised for action. The vamp was visibly taken aback, but he put on a good show as he caught himself up and hung his head low as though ready to charge once more. However, he didn’t come at her. Instead, he said in a tight voice, “A slayer in town …?” The lovely Irish lilt of his voice, so at variance with the picture he presented, made Nikki sigh sadly. He had once been human. Yeah, an inner slayer voice answered, but he ain’t no more … “That’s right, and I’m betting you haven’t ever come across a real … live … slayer before.” He didn’t answer her but just kept his head low and moved warily backwards. Nikki prompted him. “So what do you think—gonna get lucky?” “I usually do,” lanky vamp said on a sneer and finally did what he had wanted to do all along—he charged at her. Nikki sidestepped at the very last minute. He was not expecting her to be so fast, let alone faster than he. He lost his balance, and she was on him. She plunged the sharp wooden stake deeply into his back, and it found its mark. Quickly she pulled it out and jumped away. He roared with pain and fury, and lost now in the frenzy of fear and agony, he made his second mistake and dove at her willy-nilly. She was up in the air Olympic-gymnast style and bringing what Damon had called her dangerous (and high-heeled) feet across the vamp’s face. He dipped, and another kick sent him flying backwards, landing him heavily on his spine on the asphalt of the quiet, dark street. Without a moment’s pause, she was on him—straddling him, stake pointed at his stone cold heart. Her voice oozed with a threat. “Now, if you would like me to let you live, vamp, tell me what you know about Deadly Moon.” His voice was hoarse with fear, and his dark red eyes darted to her face in a silent plea. “Deadly Moon? No one knows anything about her.” “Then you are more good to me dead than alive.” She sighed as she made the stake penetrate his clothing just above his heart and dangerously tickle his skin. “Wait—wait …” She knew that he was locked down. He couldn’t struggle with her. He could hardly breathe. The poison effects of the wood were scorching his insides, and he would have to crawl away and find help soon. He was running out of time, and he knew it. The poison, left unattended, would leave him weak for weeks and could actually kill him. He knew he had to get help and quickly.

“Wait? Ah, then you have some information for me.” Nikki allowed him to see that she was a ruthless vampire slayer with no pity whatsoever. He closed his eyes and then directed a helpless look, a plea for his life, her way. “I only know what the rumor is, that she is in Ireland … Dublin, but no one knows where or why. She hasn’t been seen in a hundred years. She keeps to herself.” “And that is all you know?” He nodded anxiously. “Yes.” “And you followed me … why—meaning, why me of all the ladies at the club?” “You looked at me. I felt it. Thought you were interested and would make an easy target.” Nikki didn’t let him see his death coming as she plunged the stake into him. He held the shaft sticking out of his body for a moment before he groaned a sigh, closed his eyes, and died. Nikki withdrew the wooden stake, used his clothing to clean it, and stuck it back into her black tote bag. When she took a step backwards, her ankle gave out; she had broken one of her highheeled shoes. “Damn, and double damn …” she whispered out loud as she removed her shoe and eyed it woefully. She looked back at the vamp—he wouldn’t be leading any hopeful young women to their deaths any longer. Her nose wrinkled as she realized suddenly what was happening. He wasn’t old enough to disintegrate, but he was old enough to decay, and he was rapidly doing just that. Time to leave. *** WB was a huge vampire. He sported a large cross-bones tattoo on the back of his bald head that had been his when he had been a human. His eyes were deep amber. He was wide and solid and not unattractive to some females, but he had never taken a mate and was not overly interested in the art of romance. When the mood struck him, he took what he needed, and more often than not never had the same female more than once. He never mated with human females. He had decided long ago they were good for one thing only—feeding. He was a killer at heart, but not for the sake of the actual kill. He killed or destroyed when something or someone got in his way. He was thoroughly ruthless and unconcerned with anything other than what would serve his immediate and future needs. Vampires went through the process of dying and being reborn with the bloodlust, but not all vampires lost the conscience they had when they were human. Some retained some of that conscience and through time were able to temper their bloodlust and kill only when they had no choice. WB had a very low opinion of those ‘types’ of vamps. He would sneer at the vamps that only took the blood they needed and left their victims alive and not unwell. When WB came across such a vampire he would, if the opportunity arose, eliminate him or her simply because he despised their ideals. Most of the members of his clan, once the ‘Rawley Clan’, were loyal to him and his vision for their future. Some members were, however, still unclear about what he wanted of them and, even after all these months under his supervision, managed to remain aloof to his leadership. That annoyed the hell out of him. He was giving serious consideration to the notion of putting them to death—ritual style, to set an example to the others. He

had to be careful though as some of those members had a ‘following’, and he couldn’t afford to anger large groups—not now when he was so close to realizing his plans. A knock sounded at his door, and he heard the light, sassy female voice. It grated on his tense nerves. He grimaced but answered, “Come on, Clara—you can enter.” The evening saw her dressed for nightlife. She sported a blonde mass of curls, sparkling throughout with black glitter, and he made a face at her. “What … don’t you like my new color?” she asked, patting her spiked locks. He knew that she enjoyed doing her hair a different color from week to week. She was a female vamp stuck in the vampire healing mode—hair and nails were about the only things a female vamp could alter without the body attempting to heal. Clara often sported painted nails and different hairstyles within the short hair she had when she had been turned. She was dressed in a black silk halter and a very short matching skirt. She wore fourinch black heels and strutted her stuff as she walked up to him, chewing gum (he knew because he had asked her not to do so in his presence). He knew she didn’t like him. He knew she enjoyed annoying him, but for the time being, he needed her special skill. WB knew her pathetic story but had no sympathy. Why, he asked himself, should he? They all had their own stories. Clara had been turned when she was only nineteen, and although she had been around for a very long time, she was still a teen in her head and one who liked the Goth lifestyle. He watched as she took out the chewing gum from her mouth and looked for a place to stick it. He got up and put the wastebasket in front of her. She gave him a sarcastic smile and dumped it with a flourish. “Got some news you might want to know.” “Then tell me.” “Heard tell Deadly Moon is in town.” WB sat up and considered this. “Why? Why would she come to Dublin now of all times?” She shrugged. “It is just a rumor. She has been scarcer than ever before. No one sees her come or go, and I wouldn’t know this much if I hadn’t bumped into Damon last night. He doesn’t tell me anything … in spite of the fact that we were once … an item.” She shrugged. “But I got her scent off of him …” Clara was a tracker. She had super sense of smell, much more intense than what was normal for a vamp. “And why did you not tell me this last evening?” WB asked. Again she shrugged. “Wasn’t sure it was her scent … decided to wait until I was sure.” “And you are now?” “No … that’s the trouble. I couldn’t find her scent anywhere else in Dublin, and it has been so long since I met her.” “What does she look like?” “Don’t know. Never ever got a good look at her—she has this spell thing going on where she makes you see a hazy blur when you look at her.” “You mean, you actually got close enough …” WB was impressed. He had never gotten a glimpse of Deadly Moon himself. “Well, it was during my time with … Damon.” She turned away and moved to look

out the panoramic window onto Dublin’s Liffey River as traffic sped over the bridge, now in the thick of early evening traffic. He considered all this for a moment and then flipped it off. “No matter. She has nothing to do with us.” He motioned for her to leave, and Clara gave him a hook of her shoulder. “If I were you, WB, I would be nicer to me.” “But, you aren’t me, and this is as nice as it gets.” “You see yourself as the big leader … but I’ve learned a thing or two since Rawley days, and one of the things I have learned is that you are something of a shit … and not a little one at that!” He felt his temper rise and made an attempt to cool it. Clara was small, but she had quite a knack of staying alive over the years. He wasn’t ready yet to try and dispose of her. He sighed heavily, sat back in his high-backed executive chair, and pyramided his hands up to his square jaw. He had to rule his clan with an iron hand. He had to make a display of leading because he had to make them know he was in charge. He didn’t want to clash with Clara until he knew he would come out of it victorious … and there was the fact that many of the vampires in his clan had a fondness for her. Rawley had allowed obsession to deter his purpose. Rawley’s obsession to find and turn his half-human daughter to rule at his side had been his ruin. WB didn’t mean to allow his plan to inch close to obsession. And lately he was worried about the Count. Dracula had his own unique take on the world and might not approve of what he was doing. He would have to watch his back— Dracula was a serious threat. As to Deadly Moon, he only knew that every vampire he had ever encountered was frightened of her, and no one could ever remember seeing her. WB’s plans were very different than Rawley’s vision. He wasn’t eliminating newbies by the score any longer. Instead, he had been creating specific new vamps to aid him in his efforts. WB had a very large vision, one that would take quite some doing, city by city, town by town … He meant to rule the human race, yes, but there was more he meant to do with humans, much more. *** Nikki stepped into her room, and in her rush to get to her bathroom she didn’t do her usual scan of her surroundings. She dropped her ruined cocktail gown to the tiled floor and stood in her black lace bra and panties in front of the sink. There was blood on her hands, and she started to wash and soap them up. Washing them turned into scrubbing them, and scrubbing them turned into a frenzy that turned suddenly into sobs. “Is it becoming all too much for you, slayer?” Nikki spun around and found Damon leaning into the doorjamb with his massive arms folded across his chest. His torrents of black hair fell to his forehead and framed his handsome face. His black tee-shirt displayed his biceps and muscular abdomen. His black leather pants hugged his long, lean legs. She brought her eyes up from her inspection and sniffed. “I won’t ask how you got in here … just get out.” “Why, so you can have a good cry and pity yourself?” He unfolded his arms and moved towards her.

Realizing she wasn’t dressed, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself while repeating, “Out—now. I’m not in the mood to do anymore vampire killing, but I will if you push me.” He towered over her, and she felt an overwhelming fatigue take over her body as he hissed. “Implying that you think you could stand up against me?” His tone was incredulous. “Do you not know the difference between the things you have been slaying and the real dangers that are out there? Stoopid, stoopid girl—I had thought you smarter than that. I guess I was mistaken. You think you are invincible because you have gotten the better of a few newbies and half-ass vampires that don’t know how to do anything but feed? You think you can pit your puny skill against an aged vampire with more skills than you ever dreamt of? Slayer—you are headed for a fall. You are way too cocky to survive the task you have set for yourself. Look at you—crying because you have killed a vampire.” “I am not crying because of that.” Why did she even bother to answer him, she asked herself. Who was he to question her skill, her motives? What did he really want from her? He’s a vampire, she told herself, and you should be driving a stake through his heart— but his words tickled her brain—if you could. Because something told her that he had hit the target—she wasn’t ready for an aged and experienced vampire. “Are you not? Then why, slayer, are you crying?” he pursued. “Because I have to look at them and promise to let them live. They have to die—I know they have to die … but I never thought I could be so ruthless, so devious … make promises I have no intention of keeping. I am crying because I am losing who I am …” He grasped her shoulders and shook her. “You have already lost who you were. You are not that child—so forget her. You threw that girl overboard the moment you took up the mantle of slayer,” he spat harshly. “You are in too deep. You jumped headfirst when your brother was murdered. You never gave it a thought, never tested the waters,” he growled at her. “The ‘old’ you—gone. Enter the new, and blast it, don’t you see her—she is radiant and powerful, she is capable of so much, but at the moment she is also so utterly stoopid!” “Stupid? You have no right to keep sayin …” She let the word float off as she tried to pull away from him. His touch sent waves of sensation through her body. She shouldn’t react to a vampire like that. Why was she even discussing anything … let alone her innermost thoughts with this vampire? “You grasp at shadows, and you don’t see the whole.” She shrugged out of his hold, but as she turned away from him, the towel fell to the tiled floor. She bent to retrieve it and heard his intake of breath at her back. Hurriedly she unbent and wrapped it around herself once more. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” she shot at him as she tried to get past him to the bathroom door. He stood frowning at her for a long moment before he took her into his arms and kissed her long and sweetly. She felt herself come undone. She felt herself melt into his embrace. She shouldn’t … she mustn’t … but he felt so big and strong and safe …? Safe? He wasn’t safe. He was a vampire! “Stop it!” She tried to shrug out of his arms, but she couldn’t have tried very hard because she was looking up into his eyes as he looked down into hers and whispered, “Tell me to go now, slayer … tell me to leave, and mean it—really mean it, and I will leave.”

It took all her will power to pull the words out of her. “You have to leave. I am tired, and I can’t think.” Like magic, he was gone. What the hell kind of speed did Damon the vampire own, she wondered, and then all at once she wanted to cry again, but this time it was because she knew she hadn’t really wanted him to leave at all. *** Damon Drummond left Nikki and jumped into a cab, because although his vampire speed was faster than any vampire he knew of, it took a great deal of energy to go long distances. He instructed the driver to take him to the airport. He had to get to Scotland. It had been his intention to leave earlier in the evening, but he had impulsively changed his mind and waited on Nikki’s return to her hotel room. Something was wrong with him—he wasn’t behaving normally, and his mind was a jumble of contradicting thoughts. It was as though his usual analytical process had been infiltrated and put out of order. He wasn’t able to think straight lately, and his mind was cluttered with images of the slayer. Her deep blue eyes, her luscious lips … Bloody hell, he had to stop! He was too concerned for her safety. He found himself worrying about her when he wasn’t watching her. He found himself wondering how he was going to keep her alive in a city that was fast becoming edgy with some very tough vamps. WB was a regret he would always remember. He and Chad had made a grave mistake when they had left him alive. He hadn’t wanted to, but Chad seemed to think it might be wise. Well, that notion had been shot to hell; that proof was staring, glaring, and wagging an accusing finger at them. It was as though they had unleashed the monster on mankind! WB was quickly organizing, and it was much more than just trying to lead all the clans. He wanted something specific from his leadership. What that could be, Damon hadn’t a clue. What was WB’s final goal? This needed more minds than his. He needed to meet with Chad and Chad’s father in person and lay it out on the table and come up with a battle plan. Damon had learned how to fly in World War II when he fought with the Americans … and blood was everywhere and presented its greatest challenge. He had loved flying and had maintained a small jet at the airport. His flying skill had always come in handy, now more than ever. Once again, his mind was assailed by Nikki’s image, and he felt his body react. He had a hard-on for her, and that was something he had to get under control. He had to focus on the job at hand, not seduce a vampire slayer to his bed. No, he couldn’t think of the slayer. He had to concentrate on WB, who had turned his clan and his new recruits into a set of thugs and was already spreading fear in the smaller Dublin communities. They called the murders the results of a serial killer on the loose, but sooner or later they might whisper the word vampire … It had happened in Eastern Europe before, and vamps had been hunted and destroyed. What was making WB so cocky? Just what did he have in mind? *** WB and his gang (as Damon now thought of them) threatened Dublin with something far more sinister than he had at first supposed. WB was completely different than Pentim had been when he led the clan. He’d turned them into a group of thugs without regard to

their social position within his group. A clan was, to lonely vampires, what a family was to humans. It offered them a place of belonging, a measure of respectability amongst their own kind. WB wasn’t interested in that. He wasn’t trying to attract the lone vampire or the smaller clans with an offer of social prestige or comfort. Damon had learned from his first day as a vampire that he could never join a clan. He was a loner by nature. He didn’t like rules. He didn’t want to lead a band, and he would allow no other to lead him. However, he understood the vampires’ need to ‘belong’. WB had turned his ‘clan’ into a set of brutal vampires who took more than they needed simply because they could. That was dangerous for all vampires. Humans, when confronted with the impossible, would often group into a mob to eliminate it. He had seen this happen to vamps throughout the centuries in Europe. And yet, without concern, WB had set his brutes out in groups … systemically moving into the cities, taking over large sections for their own. That was something that would have to be dealt with, and Damon had a plan in regards to the problem. However, another very grave situation lurked on the horizon. WB was not the only threat to him, and the few he called friends. Dracula had reemerged and was once again looking for his mother and his twin. The word was that the count was in a frenzy, sure that he was close to finding them, but in truth, thankfully, the powerful count wasn’t yet close to finding them. Damon wanted to keep it that way. The MacFares were amongst Damon’s most beloved allies, and that was why Damon had to leave the slayer to her own devices and get to Darby Gray—to warn the MacFares. Protecting Deadly Moon’s whereabouts, finding a way to stop WB’s progress, and diverting Dracula were huge goals. As of yet, there was nothing to indicate that Vladimir Dracula knew anything more about his mother, brother, and nephew—immortals all. And still, Damon had this uneasy feeling that this time Dracula would find something that would bring him closer … At any rate, he only knew that he had to warn his friends and make certain they kept a low profile. The slayer and the trouble she was costing him would have to wait for a night or two—and then he thought of her deep, sad blue eyes, and something inside of him moved uncomfortably. She was the most damnable girl. He could not remember ever being so interested in one woman in all his four hundred years. And this one—this one was trouble … *** Trouble, as he thought of her, slumped and padded out of bed and made her way to the small window overlooking the street. She focused and surveyed the quiet avenue with its long, wide alley. Had she just killed another vamp? Yes, she had. Was she any closer to finding Deadly Moon? No, she wasn’t. Daunting. She felt low and emotionally depleted, much like she had on the morning after she had gone to the morgue to look at her brother’s mutilated body. She’d had an awful night where she dreamt she was surrounded by vampires and couldn’t move fast enough, and just as she thought her time was over, he stood there like a dark god—Damon Drummond, vampire supreme—and she believed absurdly that he

was there to save her. She ran to him, and he took her into his arms, and then before she knew what was happening, he was sinking his teeth into her neck. It wasn’t to kill her … it was to turn her. She’d woken up shaking. Now, what she needed was coffee. “Yup,” she said right out loud. “Some coffee, biscuits, jam, lots of jam, and daylight …” She glanced at the clock and groaned. It was already eleven o’clock. Half the day was gone, and she had something very important to do today. She was headed for Trinity and its amazing library. It was there that she would find a clue about the very first vampires that were created by the one and only legend and ‘sire’—Count Dracula. Deadly Moon was reputed to be amongst those very first that Dracula had turned. Nikki supposed that was why she was so powerful, because of the thousand years she reputedly owned. A frown furrowed her forehead. Why would a thousand-year-old vampire want to kill and mutilate her brother? It didn’t make sense and yet … all of it didn’t make sense. She couldn’t understand any of it, so she shoved it aside. An hour later, she walked the relatively short distance to Trinity. Fortified by the fact that she’d had a wonderful hot shower, great coffee, and a scrumptious full breakfast, she felt ready to take on the world—even the vampire world. Trinity stood out as a testament to the past, and Nikki felt awe as she walked across the lawn in front of Trinity’s Parliament Square. She had to stand and stare and think about the history the place represented—the throwback to the time of the Tudors. She smiled at passing students, thinking that it hadn’t been so long ago she had been simply a student—thinking she could choose to ignore that she was also a slayer. She closed her eyes for a moment as she recalled those carefree days. Nikki picked up her pace and walked the distance to the Old Library, where The Book of Kells was on display. It would be there she would find the ancient manuscript she was after. She found someone working at a long, beautifully carved wooden counter and leaned into it to ask, “Can you tell me where I might find this ancient text?” She slid the paper with the name of the book The Legend of the First Turned towards the young woman, who looked at the title and then at Nikki to smile. “Well—that is different,” the woman said with a pretty Irish lilt. “Usually you Americans only want all the manuscripts we have about the Fae.” “I am a writer … doing a piece on the first vampires Dracula created. I only just discovered that an actual accounting existed in the form of this manuscript and that it was actually housed here, in Ireland.” “Well, that isn’t quite correct. We have a translated copy. We don’t have the original, which was …” The young woman smiled ruefully. “Of all the freaky places … in Transylvania until it was stolen last year.” “But you have a copy?” Nikki breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, but you will have to read it here.” “That is fine.” She was already following the woman down the aisle to a small chamber where the woman unlocked the door and ushered her inside. “You can just take a seat at one of the reading tables, and I’ll be right with you.” Nikki looked around at the glass cabinets of ancient texts and wondered at all the information that was stored there. The woman returned with a large text and put it gently

down on the table and said, “Yer in luck—this edition is in English … translated from old Gaelic.” She put the heavy, leather-bound manuscript onto the long table. “Oh wow, I never even thought about it being in another language. This is so great— thanks.” The woman smiled and left Nikki to herself. She opened the book and within a very short while became thoroughly engrossed. And then it happened—the words jumped right out at her. The woman had been the loveliest in all of Europe, and Dracula had wooed her, courted and attempted to win her. According to the legend, she refused him to the end … He turned her by force, and over time, she was given the name Deadly Moon. She was supposedly over one thousand years old. Very little was known about her, as she seemed to vanish shortly after Dracula had forced himself on her. During the centuries her name was mentioned as an exquisitely beautiful creature but one to be feared with powers so much greater than all other vampires. Nikki stared at the book, read on for a bit, but discovered that nothing else was written about Deadly Moon.

~ Four ~ NIKKI WAS DRESSED to the hilt. She wore a very slinky pale blue cocktail dress that hugged her provocative figure. Her fiery hair was brushed until it gleamed with the gold streaks that made its color so unusual. It hung in long, luxurious waves around her shoulders and flowed in cascades down her back. She studied herself in the mirror and had to wonder just who she had dressed for. John Patrick? Perhaps. She did find him very attractive in a rough-edged way, but she didn’t want more than information from him. Did he have information? Something told her that he knew a great deal more than he let on. Had she dressed to attract the vamps that frequented Club Merlot? Perhaps … she needed information, and distraction was a good way of obtaining what she needed before she made her kill. Or was it in the hopes of impressing someone else? Could she be honest with herself and say she had dressed with one particular vampire in mind? Would he find her this evening? Would he find her to his taste … was she all too attracted to the hunk, Damon Drummond? She shook her head and berated herself. She was being ridiculous. She walked across the room, picked up her trusty black tote bag, and headed out. It didn’t take her long to walk briskly towards her goal, and when she reached the club she was pumped up with anticipation. Throbbing pounding music met her as she entered the packed club. She scanned the crowded floor as she took mental notes and filed them away for later. A deep, familiar Irish voice at her ear made her turn her head to face John Patrick. She allowed him a totally feminine smile. He leaned in and whispered, “I’ve been waiting on ye all evening …” She laughed. “It is only ten o’clock—and what made you think I would come by tonight?” “I’m telling ye, beauty, that if ye hadn’t come by, I think I would have combed the city for ye. I’ve been on edge hoping ye would show since we opened our doors.” He sure knew how to make a woman feel womanly and wanted, and had she been interested in romance, she might have considered him; however, at that moment, he took her elbow and wielded her through the push of bodies to a set of steps that led to a private balcony overlooking the dance floor. This was evidently the ‘owner’s table.’ He saw her comfortably seated and motioned to a waiter, who set a tray of drinks down on the counter and hurried over. Another waiter, seeing his ‘boss’ seated with a lovely, appeared with a tray of appetizers. John Patrick asked the first waiter for champagne and then returned his attention to Nikki, who laughed right out loud and exclaimed, “Wow, I am impressed. You certainly have a very attentive staff.”

“My people are trained to anticipate my needs,” he whispered as his lips brushed close to her earlobe. Nikki didn’t like the pace at which he was moving; however, she had come here with the purpose of ‘working’ John Patrick. She had decided early this morning that the club owner was the one she needed to carefully question. How better to do it than with a little flirtation? She was, however, a little concerned. She watched him as he surveyed the dance floor and realized that he knew there was something ‘not right’ about a number of his patrons, and she had to wonder if he harbored them at his club for a price. He answered her in an off-hand style and with a shrug of his strong shoulder, “Training is essential when putting together a business that needs its service to be … efficient.” She said on a soft tease, “Hmmm, can’t take a job where I have to be ‘of service’—I just don’t take orders well.” She gave him a cocked brow, and he threw back his head with heartfelt amusement. “Putting your cards on the table, eh love?” “I have always found it best to do so.” “So tell me, why did you come back tonight? Is it too much for me to hope that it was to see me?” “I came for much of the same reason … relaxation and entertainment … and, yes, I did want to see you tonight.” “Dare I hope there is no ulterior motive?” Nikki laughed. “Hope is a good thing.” He toasted her with the glass his waiter had poured before his retreat. She picked up her own and allowed his glass to clink against hers. She started to take a sip, sniffed something unfamiliar in the drink, and set the glass down to say quickly, “Do you dance, John Patrick?” He eyed her for a long moment, and then with an almost imperceptible glance towards her champagne glass, he stood up and offered his hand. “I do, Nikki Walker.” The band was playing a hard rock song, fast-paced and loud, but he pulled her into his embrace and swayed her slowly, softly in place, evidently to a song being played in his head. She laughed and said, “I don’t think we are working the beat.” “Oh, but we are darlin’ … right to the beat …” “Now don’t go all slick on me and say of your heart.” She laughed with a rueful eye. “I won’t say it, but I think we both know you have already found your way there.” She pulled back just a bit, and there was a slight warning in her glance that said, Don’t move too quickly on me. She said slowly, softly, “Hearts are tricky things, and I don’t like dealing with that organ.” He gave her a long look and shrugged. “Why are ye here then, Nikki? Tell me the real reason if ye will.” “I told you … for light entertainment—nothing heavy—nothing deep.” “I didn’t believe you when you first told me that, and I believe it less now.” “Then you tell me. What do you think I am here for?” “You look like a girl on a mission. I think you are here looking for information.” “What makes you think such an odd thing?”

“Because I know, Nikki.” “You know what?” “I know about your brother.” He clucked his tongue and wagged a finger at her there in the middle of the dance floor. “You didn’t think I got this far without having every unusual person I meet thoroughly investigated.” Nikki started off the floor. He got hold of her arm, and she turned to eye him and then his hand. He removed his hold, and she said, “Right … you know that my brother was viciously murdered … not viciously, horrendously. What does that have to do with me … being here.” “I am not sure, yet. That is what has me puzzled—for, Nikki, make no mistake, I know ye are here for more than what ye say.” “You know that, do you? Tell me, John Patrick, what else do you know … what else have you noticed? Do you see that some of the young and beautiful women that leave here with some of your clients … never come back?” “I have never kept tabs on the comings and goings of whores,” he said coldly. Nikki was shocked. She had not expected such a cold and nasty sentiment from him. He had until that moment seemed almost nice. She took a long look at him and said softly, “And is that what they are to you … those pretty young girls that leave with strangers—whores.” He shrugged noncommittally. “More or less.” “Good night, John Patrick,” she offered as she started to give him her back. She only got a few more feet off the dance floor. “Nikki …” He had her arm, this time more roughly than he had the last time. She glanced at his hand, and those deep blues of her scolded his face, but he did not let go. She tried pulling out of his hold, but normal human female strength did not get her released. She didn’t want to use slayer strength and give herself away as an ‘abnormal’. So she hissed, “Let go of me.” “I will, if you promise not to leave like this …” “The thing is … I don’t make deals like that.” She shook her head at him, “I don’t make promises under duress, and I don’t think this evening should continue.” She managed to get out of his hold and eyed him warningly. If he touched her again she was going to give him a quick kick in his crotch. She said, “I will give you the benefit of the doubt, John Patrick. Perhaps you haven’t really looked at some of your patrons … maybe even if you have, you wouldn’t understand what they are, but look at them now—do they look quite ‘right’ to you?” She eyed him narrowly. “You watch them night after night, and don’t you wonder what it is so many women see in them—why women who were repeat customers stop coming in— don’t you wonder, John Patrick?” “What do you want me to say? Aye then, they don’t look ‘quite right’ to me. Ask me if I can pinpoint in what way. I can’t. I have asked myself, and the answer is always the same—I don’t know what the hell is going on, and in truth, it is none of my blasted business. I can’t baby-sit these young women. They know what dangers are out there when they go off with a complete stranger. I can’t accuse any one of these lads of anything—how can I when I don’t know anything?” She studied his face. Part of her said that he was telling her the truth. Another part of her thought not—which part was right? The slayer part—that was the part of her brain

she needed to trust from now on. “Lads … Is that what you call them—lads?” She shook her head. “Okay, John Patrick, you have a lovely club here, but one of these days, the garda are going to trace one of those women whose body has been found mutilated, and drained of blood, back to your place. What will you do then? What will you say?” “And what makes ye think any of the women that leave with these … characters … end up mutilated and drained of blood? Ye are talking crazy.” “Because I read the paper this morning. More and more young women are being found in that condition … their throats torn out and their bodies totally drained of blood. The garda think they have a maniac serial killer on the loose. You and I—oh, John Patrick, we both know better. If I weren’t sure before … I certainly am now … you know more than you are willing to let on.” There—she had laid it out for him, because now she would know if he was going to help her or not. “Aye then, I read the papers too, but I don’t know anything. And what would ye have me do? I told ye, beauty … I can’t appoint myself as guardian of the night. It has nothing to do with me.” He stared at her for a long, quiet moment. “Why are ye involving yerself in all of this, darlin’ … what can it get you—but killed?” “Justice—John Patrick, it will get me what I want—justice. You had me investigated, and I know you know why I am here in Dublin.” She gave him her back and started for the door. She wanted out, and she wanted out quickly. While they had been speaking she had seen a very young girl, probably underage, leave with a vampire of uncertain years. She had to catch up to them! *** A small, dimly lit park was where she tracked them, the vampire and his young victim. Nikki’s slayer sense of smell was one of her many assets, so she was able to hang back undetected. She knew when he stopped, and she paused a moment to take in her surroundings. Then she went forward because she suddenly realized she would have to act quickly. He had the pretty girl, whom Nikki had guessed earlier to be no more than seventeen, up against a tree. The vamp brushed her hair away from her neck and said something soft as his fangs emerged. Nikki was sure he already had her in his trance. Nikki pulled out her stake from her tote bag and held it tightly as she rushed towards him as silently as she could. She had circumstances on her side. He was already lost to his bloodlust and did not hear her coming. She arrived on the scene, jumped into the air and landed the mature vampire a swift, high kick to his back. He turned and snarled, and his fangs glowed horrifically in the dim light. His amber lit eyes focused on her with absolute astonishment as he realized what she was. His voice was a harsh hiss as it came from his gut. “A slayer! Ah slayer … you are dead.” “No … I am actually alive, but you are going to be deader than you are right now,” she returned tauntingly. She wanted him furious. She wanted to enrage him into a temper he could not control. She needed him off balance because this one, she realized, had the skills of time. “Come on, fangs, let’s see what you got.” He had age and experience and evidently an ego. Every vamp brought with them the personality traits that were theirs before their turning. He charged at her with a speed that was faster than any of the vampires—discounting Damon—she had yet encountered, but she still managed to sidestep him. He did not trip himself up though and spun around to straighten his stance and rise to

his full height as he visibly controlled his fury. “You are new at this, slayer … you cannot win.” “New—nah, I’ve been doing this for weeks.” She smiled brightly at him. He growled ferociously and this time nearly caught her when he charged. She was ready for him, though, and held her leg out as she moved aside, which did in fact trip him up. However, he did not fall as she expected but unexpectedly seemed to vanish. “Oh-oh …” Nikki whispered into the dark night. The vampire reappeared behind her and grabbed her. She flipped him quickly and with slayer force, but he landed on his feet and faced her. She could see that he was totally out of breath, but damn, she thought, so was she. He moved slowly now, recouping as he watched her and made his attempt to circle her. “Slayer … do you think you can destroy me? I have lived more than one hundred years.” “Have you ever encountered me in those hundred years?” This seemed to throw him, for he frowned but then snorted, “You? You … you are nothing.” “I am the nothing that is going to end your pathetic, parasitic existence.” Nikki’s body was tense as she held her wooden weapon and took the position. “Try …” he said on a hushed sound as he stepped forward and turned into smoke. Instinctively, Nikki went into her blind mode, allowing all her other senses to shift into overdrive. Sense of smell—she found him behind her; she spun around. Sense of hearing—he had stepped away, and his cold breath was near … almost at her ear … With the sixth sense that belonged to her as a slayer, she brought her weapon down just exactly where it needed to go to make its mark. He howled with pain and materialized for a moment—only a moment. Then he attempted once more to lunge at her, but even as he jumped forward he disintegrated as though he had never been there. Nikki watched the wind shift the dust he had left behind when something tickled her senses. She looked up. “Well done, slayer. I was just about to step in when I saw … you didn’t need me to,” Damon said softly and then vanished into the night. Nikki almost smiled until she realized that no sooner had she heard his voice than he was gone. Hands on hips she looked around once more and said into the silence of the moment, “Damn straight, well done!” At a distance from her she heard the sound of his voice chuckling. Oh, it was him. No other man on earth … or vamp … sounded quite like Damon Drummond, and for no reason she could name a slow, luscious curve worked her lips.

~ Five ~ NIKKI STOOD BEFORE an ornate set of wide marble steps that led to the double black-painted doors at the top of those steps. She felt a cool breeze touch her face. It was still early morning, and she thought it had not reached nine yet, the time of her appointment at The Historical Vampirism Society. From what she had read, the little-known if somewhat strange organization studied the legend of vampires and had more ancient manuscripts than any other such organization in the world. She had lied and told them that she was doing a paper on the existence of vampires in everyday society. They had been thrilled and told her she was welcome to come and use their material for research. They had seemed harmless enough, but now, in front of the building, she had an odd sensation as she worried about the role she would play. Would they know? Aw … nah, she was just being fanciful. She skipped up the steps and scanned. She didn’t feel as though anything were off. At the door, she sucked in air and reached for the enormous knocker, which was designed to represent a bronze bat, and gave it a good thumping. A few moments went by before the door creaked open and a butler that looked like he belonged in a Boris Karloff movie appeared at the door to say in a low voice, “Yes?” “My name is Nikki Walker. I have an appointment with Ruth Todd.” He didn’t answer her, but he did step backwards and open the door further. Nikki tried giving him a winning smile, but she got nothing in return as she entered and scanned the wide central hall. The only piece of furniture in the foyer was a round, dark, and highly polished oak table with a candelabra branch placed at its center. Paintings of various males, some with fangs openly displayed, others with only the red of their eyes evidently meant to depict what they were, hung on the darkly papered walls. She wondered if she had just walked into the ‘lion’s den’ when a plump and cheery woman clothed in a silk dress a pale shade of gray came bustling into the hallway from a closed door at the far end of the hall. With her hand extended she said brightly, “Miss Walker … so pleased … come in, come in.” She turned to the oddly dressed butler and smiled. “We’ll take some morning tea and cookies in the library, Brian, thank you.” She had Nikki’s hand and gave it a hearty pat before linking her arm through her own and leading her to a set of richly carved, heavy dark oak doors. She opened one door into the room and pulled Nikki (who had scarcely had the opportunity to say hello) along with her. As Mrs. Todd chatted away, Nikki had a good look around. Books, manuscripts, parchments, and artifacts lined the shelves upon shelves that made up three of the four walls in the room. The other housed a small fireplace, with a window on either side of it. The windows overlooked a large and beautifully landscaped courtyard. Aged brown

leather sofas and matching chairs were scattered throughout the room. “Yes, this is one of my favorite rooms … wonderfully lighted for reading. You will find that large table over there perfect for taking notes, and I have already placed the documents and manuscripts you asked about on the table. But first, we must have our tea and get acquainted …” she said all in one breath and turned to find Brian returning with a tray. “Ah—our tea … there at the coffee table, Brian, will be fine. Thank you.” She led Nikki to a sofa situated near the coffee table and sighed as she seated herself and saw Nikki seated beside her. She chatted idly as she poured tea and handed a cup to Nikki. Then she stopped and cast her an inquisitive glance. “So then, child, tell me, just what sort of text are you writing—a book?” “Yes, the occult, vampires, shape shifters … fascinate me.” Truth, she told herself, wherever she could fit it in. And she had been keeping a journal of sorts—before Jack had been killed. It helped to keep her sane during those days Jack had picked up the slack and helped her train as a slayer. “Excellent. I too have a love of paranormal of all sorts. I especially like the paranormal romances. Is that what you plan to write? Have a cookie.” Nikki laughed. She liked Mrs. Todd. She was motherly and bubbly and easy to deal with. She almost made her feel normal again. She took a cookie and sat back to relax with her tea, while Mrs. Todd munched away. “I am not sure what I am going to do with my research yet, but that is one of my ideas. What do you do here, Mrs. Todd?” “Do you mean me personally, or are you asking about our little society?” “Both, I suppose.” “I handle all public relations, and the society studies … vampirism.” “Well, that makes sense that you would handle public relations … but I wouldn’t have thought there would be much need for that.” Nikki smiled. “Thank you, dear, but you would be amazed at the situations that need to be addressed. As to the society … this society has existed for centuries. There was a time people were suspicious of the group’s work, thinking that because we studied vampires and the occult, we must also practice such things. The society gathered all its precious manuscripts and went into hiding back in the fifteenth century. However, money is power, and when the society began to attract wealthy aristocrats in later centuries— everything changed.” Nikki put down her empty cup and smiled. “So interesting, but if I am not going to make a pest of myself, I better get cracking.” “Yes, of course, my dear, but I expect that you will be visiting us for quite a few days to come if you mean to take notes from that stack over there …” She indicated it with her chin. Nikki glanced and laughed. “I expect so. Well, I am so grateful.” “Nonsense,” Mrs. Todd said, getting to her feet and snatching another cookie on her way, giggling. “Sustenance.” Nikki laughed and rose as well and watched the woman’s departure before she turned to the stack of manuscripts. What she hoped to find was like a needle in a haystack, but anything about Dracula’s first vampires might help lead her to Deadly Moon. *** Clara stood in her Gothic styled black clothing in a corner of WB’s large chamber. WB watched her from narrowed eyes and dropped the human woman he had just been

feeding on. She wasn’t quite dead yet; he would save what was left of her for later. Clara meandered over, gave the unconscious woman a sniff, and stood back to stare at her. WB grimaced and snapped, “Leave her alone … she isn’t here for you.” “She is too old … not your usual type.” Clara eyed him speculatively. “Never mind that.” WB turned to the four militant-looking vampires standing around his desk. “Did you bring the plans with you?” As an answer one of them dropped a set of blueprints on the huge, highly polished desk standing between them and WB. Clara inched towards the group. WB glanced at her one final time and returned his attention to the vamps gathered around the desk. Clara stared at the unconscious woman before whispering to her, “You are going to die … do you know that?” The woman looked at her through blank eyes, and Clara sighed and sidled up to one of the militant vamps. He grinned at her because he had always found her amusing. She blew him a kiss. WB reprimanded him to pay attention, and Clara moved only slightly away and then returned to the woman. “Where do you come from … who are your people?” “I … I don’t know …” The woman’s voice was hoarse with the sound of death. Her faded gray eyes were still blank as she glanced at Clara and then down at the marbled floor at her feet. “You don’t know? But I think you do.” Clara’s pursued. “Don’t worry … I won’t go looking for your people—that isn’t my style. I am not a stalker. I take my food as it presents itself.” The woman closed her eyes. Clara came in close again and took another whiff before saying, “There is something familiar about your scent, and your face …” WB frowned as he watched her and called out, “Clara … leave her alone—she isn’t for you.” “Why not—I’m the one who got those buffoons into the courthouse. I’m the one who deserves a reward. You’re done with her—give her to me.” “And why would you want her?” “Because I do,” she said softly and eyed the woman again. “Why?” WB was momentarily diverted. The woman had come in to clean and had taken her job too seriously and stayed past dark to get the job done. Now, WB couldn’t let her leave. “I like the scent of her blood …” Clara answered off-handedly. WB made an impatient sound and thought if it would get Clara out of his war room and busy with something other than his men—then fine. He didn’t quite trust Clara. She was part of his clan by her choice, but she was whimsical. She was always cutting her own road, coming and going whenever she wanted, and she knew too much for him to allow her to live much longer. He hadn’t meant to feed on the woman anyway. He was going to give her to … he smiled to himself, what did Clara call them, one of his buffoons. “Go on then, take her and get out.” “Thanks, WB … so I shall …” And with her vampire strength, Clara picked up the older woman and walked out of WB’s war room. WB glanced out the window and saw Clara still holding the woman cradle-like as she picked up her pace and hurried into the

night. He shook his head. That little piece of gothic fluff was an odd one. *** Damon stepped back into the shadows cast by the building and watched as Clara came hurrying out of the townhouse WB and his clan had taken over in Dublin. He was surprised to hear Clara’s voice sound concerned as she spoke to the woman she was holding. What was she doing? Clara wasn’t the sort to feed on women. “Don’t worry … I am going to heal you,” she whispered to the woman. Damon’s eyebrows went up. Heal her? Since when did Clara ever care about humans? She didn’t. She just didn’t. He made up his mind and followed at a distance, waiting as she rounded the corner of the dimly lit street. Then he heard Clara set the woman down and prop her up. Damon took a quick look before getting out of sight. Clara went across the street to a food store, vanished within, and returned with meat and fruit and started feeding the woman. Damon watched in utter shock. This was beyond anything he had ever expected of Clara. What had gotten into her? Clara ordered, “More … go on … that’s it, eat the meat …” He had to stay out of the breeze, or Clara would pick up on his scent; so far, he had been lucky. Clara demanded, “Now, I want the truth, your family name.” The woman eyed her warily. “Why …?” “Speak, you—what is your family name?” “Stout … my name is Sarah Stout.” Damon heard Clara’s intake of breath before she said, “By marriage or blood?” “Blood … when I got my divorce I took back my maiden name.” “What is the name of your town … the town your people come from?” “Limerick.” “Damn by damn.” Clara breathed the words and then took the woman’s shoulders, “Sarah, do you know any of your family history … do you know anything about Martha Stout? She would be your great-grandmother.” “Why sure it is I do.” “Did she … was she …” “Are ye speaking of our family tragedy … about Martha’s daughter …?” “Yes … I … want to know … after … the tragedy … did she cope?” “Och no … it was her only daughter ye see. She had sons—me own grandfather was one, but it was hard for her not knowing …” “What did she think happened?” “Why do ye want to know all this … who are ye … what are—” “Never mind—tell me.” Clara cut her off and glanced around. “How could she know? Her daughter left for America, and that was the last she ever saw of her.” Damon heard Clara’s intake of breath before she shouted, “Go on—go home …” and he heard her digging in her pockets. He took a quick glance and watched as Clara came up with a huge wad of money and pushed it at the woman. “Go on, take this, Sarah. Don’t go out in Dublin at night ever again … you must never let WB see you.” “But what is this … why?”

“Because Dublin is changing—and it won’t be safe for you … for anyone for a long time to come.” The woman nodded thankfully, and Damon was sure she had every intention of following Clara’s advice. She took the money and nearly ran in her haste to escape. Damon folded his arms across his chest and fell into deep thought. Now just what was that all about? Every vampire had a story—a life they had lived before the moment of turning. Every vampire came to be through different circumstances. Clara had never told him what her life had been like, or who had turned her. He wished she were not so heavily imbedded in the WB clan, because he cared for her. She was almost childlike and incongruously innocent for all her years and her lifestyle. However, at the moment, he could do nothing to get her away from the clan. Clara was stubborn and always did exactly what she wanted. He had already learned quite a bit when he’d hid in the shadows and listened in on WB and his ‘soldiers’. Apparently Dublin would soon be in quite a bit of trouble if something wasn’t done to at least first stall them and then stop them. In the meantime, his thoughts went back to Nikki. He wondered if she had any plans of returning to Club Merlot this evening. If so, he was going with her, whether she liked it or not. *** Nikki had in fact decided to avoid the club and, instead, made her way to a lively pub not far from her small inn on the fringe of Temple Bar. Tonight, she was giving herself some time off. She was going to have a light meal, listen to some good Irish music, have a glass of wine, and go back to her room to do some more reading. Mrs. Todd had been kind enough to make copies of some of the papers she had been rifling through. She was dressed in a pair of stretch jeans, sneakers, and a black sweater. Her fierycolored hair was brushed into long waves of silk, and her tote bag was safely slung over her shoulder. She made her way to a quiet corner and sank back to watch the ebb and flow of the crush of young and old alike. It was not really a party crowd. It looked as though most of the people were there for the same reasons as she—simply to relax. She saw him as soon as he walked in. No coincidence—she didn’t believe in that sort of coincidence. What then—had he tracked her? In this city of so many, he had tracked her. Impressive. His black hair fell loosely around his chiseled, handsome face. The corner of his mouth had moved into the tiniest curve. His black eyes, which had caught her attention from the moment she had first met him because there was scarcely a hint of the vampire red in their depths, were bright and presently looked directly at her. He was wearing a light black leather jacket over a black T-shirt. His blue jeans hugged his form, and he towered over everyone around him as he easily made his way towards her. She discovered she was holding her breath, and as he got closer, she hurriedly let it out and heard her mind blabbering something like, Shit, he is so damn hot, and you are an idiot! “Taking a night off, Nikki?” he said as he slipped into the booth and cozied up to her

shoulder. “Something like that,” she managed to reply after she cleared her throat. “You?” She attempted a casual air. Here she was, a slayer, sitting next to and chatting with a vampire? What was she thinking? He laughed, and she couldn’t help but notice that his smile was beautiful and lit up his entire face. Something else dawned on her, something she probably had noticed immediately but had not registered until this moment. While Damon Drummond was a bit on the pale side, he certainly did not have the same cold, white, chalky-appearing skin most vampires sported. No—he wasn’t your ordinary, garden-variety vamp! “What have you been doing all day, slayer?” “I could ask you the same question, vamp.” She smiled at him and liked the way he acknowledged the hit. His hands went up. “Shall I try it again, then? What have you been up to all day, Nikki Walker?” “Hmmm, question right back at ya … Damon Drummond.” He laughed and leaned into her. “No doubt investigating with those deep blues of yours, eh?” “What part of England did you come from?” she asked, changing the subject. He inclined his head. “Ah, you want to talk about me. Very well then, my family home was situated in the New Forest, in the south of England.” “Were you … titled?” He laughed. “Does it matter?” She shrugged. “Not really—just curious.” “I was, in fact, a squire.” “How long ago?” she asked, watching him intently. “Four hundred years ago, give or take …” He smiled ruefully at her. “Should I be flattered—all this interest in me?” “No, like I said, I’m just curious.” She hesitated and then dove in. “Who turned you?” “Long story, and it isn’t an easy one.” “We have time …” “Yes, but it isn’t something I want to talk about … yet.” “Afraid it might give me the upper hand?” He laughed again, and his eyes were bright with the challenge. “Do you think after four hundred years, I could be afraid of anything? Death—perhaps, and yet there is a chance when confronted with it, I just might welcome it.” “I don’t want to kill you, Damon Drummond. I should, but somehow I don’t … not yet, anyway.” “A truce then?” “I suppose.” “You have more things to worry about than catching your brother’s murderer.” “No, I don’t, Damon. That is my priority. But, okay, I’ll bite. What other things do I have to worry about?” “Not tonight, slayer … and here”—he indicated with his chin—“is our lovely waitress—shall we order?” Nikki looked up at the pretty brunette eyeing Damon like he was a piece of candy she wanted to lick, and she felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Why—are you eating?” she turned to Damon, and her tone although sweet was sarcastic as well. She had a sudden urge to pinch him for smiling so long at the waitress. He turned to Nikki and said softly, “There are many thing you don’t know about me, Nikki, so don’t take anything I do or don’t do for granted, and yes.” He looked up at the waitress and said, “We’ll have two glasses of white wine …” He eyed Nikki. “Unless you think we can finish a bottle?” She was still staring at him. Wine? He’s a vamp. Vamps don’t drink alcohol—it thins the blood. “Yes … I mean … no … not a bottle.” “Right … and …” He turned to Nikki once more. “How does the house special sound to you?” “Sure,” she answered, without having a clue what the house special was. She was too fascinated with all of this. Was he ordering just to make it look good? Surely he couldn’t eat? “Two specials … and we’ll have two small garden salads with the chicken pot pies— thanks.” He turned from smiling broadly at the waitress and saw Nikki’s look of astonishment. “What?” he said, grinning, and it was obvious he knew ‘what’. “What are you going to do with all the food?” Nikki eyed him doubtfully. “Eat it,” he said pleasantly. “But … but …” She lowered her voice. “Can you? Won’t it make you sick or something?” “It would if I was an ordinary vamp, but, slayer—you already know that ordinary is not a word anyone should use to describe what I am.”

~ Six ~ NIKKI EYED HIM as he took her key and opened her door for her. Everything about Damon tick-tocked potential sexual pleasures—come and explore. He was risky business without the microphone! He was seductive and mysterious, and she had no business, she told herself, thinking about him like that. He touched her elbow and stopped her from entering her suite of rooms as he went in first. She watched him in motion, powerful, in control, quietly sure of himself, and she licked her bottom lip. She wasn’t thinking about any dangers lurking in her hotel room; she was focused on Damon Drummond. What are you doing? her mind screamed, loud and clear. Fool, fool, you are turning yourself into a fool for a vampire … Yes, another part of her brain answered insidiously, but he isn’t like any vampire I have ever encountered … Apparently satisfied, he turned to her and touched her fingers, inviting her to enter her own suite. “I think you are safe … for now,” he commented dryly as he remained firmly fixed near the door. “There will come a time, slayer, when you won’t have any but the daylight hours to count as your own, and that time is near.” She looked up into his pitch-black eyes and saw a hint of desire in their recesses. She couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying because of the way he was looking at her. She felt excitement travel its way through her stomach, curve its way down lower between her thighs, and then shoot through her blood. Stop! Her good sense kicked in, and she made a silent resolve to ignore the attraction she felt for the big, handsome, intriguing Damon Drummond. She stepped back from him and managed to choke out, “Thank you … for a lovely evening.” He inclined his head. “Consider it a bribe.” She frowned. “A bribe—for what?” “I want you to give up your search for Deadly Moon. I want you to concentrate on the bigger picture we have immediately facing us.” “I won’t give up on Deadly Moon. You shouldn’t ask me to do that. I have only one picture—small as that may seem to you …” Her voice trailed off because she could see her brother in her mind’s eye, lying on the cold slab in the morgue, his throat torn. “I know, but did you ever consider that Deadly Moon may be innocent of your brother’s murder?” “No. My evidence points directly to her. Her description is unique, and both the club and the hotel described the woman on his arm. It was she. Why do you suggest that it was someone else? What do you know?” “Absolutely nothing,” he answered sadly. “I wish I had a clue … about this. I only know that she wouldn’t—she couldn’t—have killed your brother.”

“So you do know her … Do you also know where she is? Have you been keeping it from me?” Nikki demanded. “Yes, in a manner of speaking, I know where she might be, and I know she isn’t capable of this crime.” “But you don’t know for sure.” “I haven’t seen her in over a month, but what I can tell you as an absolute is that things, slayer, are rarely what they seem in the unique world in which we survive. What I know is that you are basing all your beliefs on the statements of individuals who saw things in a narrow hallway of time. That doesn’t mean that you can draw truths from those things. You need more than bits and pieces to draw the conclusion you have drawn.” “She killed my brother. There is no other possible conclusion.” “I believe that you are wrong, and at any rate, as I said, we have other problems to deal with whether you want to or not, because those problems are coming for you, slayer—” “Why won’t you just tell me where she is?” Nikki cut him off. She didn’t know what other problems he was speaking of, and at that moment, she didn’t care. Her mind was zeroed in on one objective: the need to confront and destroy her brother’s murderer. “I can’t—won’t betray her,” he said softly and frowned as he looked away from her. “Then, please leave.” Her voice was scarcely audible. What was that grumbling in her heart? What was that tearing sensation in her chest? Why was there a constriction in her throat … what was that she was feeling …? Damon Drummond inclined his head, and his voice grazed the air and lingered in her ears just before he moved into overdrive and vanished. “One day, I will tire of hearing you tell me that.” Nikki sank down at the edge of her bed. Life was so complicated, and she was getting so confused and getting nowhere fast. Why wouldn’t he help her? Was he in love with Deadly Moon—was that it? An unconscious frown descended on her face, and she sighed in the quiet of her room. They were at odds on this, and why should she care about that? He was a vampire. It was a fact she had to keep repeating to herself. Damon, vamp. Nikki, slayer. No meshing there. No common ground. However, she had learned something today as she pored through the ancient texts and manuscripts. She had come across a tale passed down through the ages that gave her a clue about the kind of world that thrived when Deadly Moon had been turned by Dracula! *** A thumping pulse made its bumpy way through Nikki’s body. She was staring into his black eyes, and what she saw there made her close her eyes again. A small groan escaped her as she felt his hands on her naked breasts. Naked … how had she gotten that way? She couldn’t remember … and where was she … in her bed or his? She heard him make a feral sound, and instead of being frightened, she arched her back in offering. His hands … oh, his hands … made her blood heat up as they worked over her receptive body. Her mind had lost the battle, and her body had given in to the craving. She wanted him. She could see his handsome face, and passion was etched into the set of his jaw, the curve of his mouth …

She reached up to touch his cheek, and he took her hand and kissed it feverishly before he got into position and straddled her. He was naked. His chest was rippled and hard. His biceps were muscled, and both of them were ornamented with a strange-looking tattoo design—something he must have had from his human years. His steely manhood was at full mast and throbbing, and the sight of it made her arch closer to him. She wanted him to know what she wanted, and he did as he bent slowly and gently covered her mouth with his. He worked her lips with his own, and his tongue teased for entry. She parted her lips and allowed his velvety tongue full reign as it eased hers into submission. His kiss took her to another world as he entwined her into his arms and taught her an age-old dance. He kissed her until she thought she would lose herself in his kisses, and then he was pulling away … She whispered his name as doubt assailed her. “Damon …” Clearly she heard him answer in return, and the hurt swept through her with the words. “Moon … my darling …” Cold-water splash. Nikki woke up. She looked around the room, which was enshrouded in darkness, but she was alone. It had been so real—the dream felt so completely real! She looked down at herself and discovered she was, indeed, quite naked. She took a moment and concentrated on steadying herself. It was only a dream … that was all that it was—just a dream. She touched her lips, and they felt slightly bruised … *** The day had been long and tedious. She had pored over manuscript after manuscript but had not found anything further on Deadly Moon until it was nearly four o’clock, and then it shot out at her from the pages and she almost read the words out loud. Dracula’s frenzy was at its height when suddenly he retreated to his castle. No one knew why, and the villagers crossed themselves and prayed that there he would stay. It came to pass that a beautiful woman had escaped one night from his castle. A stranger of great height and extraordinary good looks had passed through the village, and a few curious locals followed him. They watched when he discovered her lying nearly dead in the road. Her clothes were torn, her body ravaged, and surely she was on the verge of death. Surely, they thought, she could not be saved. Overhead, the moon had already begun to glow. They heard him whisper softly to her but could not hear what he said as he took her into his arms and walked out of their view. They never saw either one again—and so the rumors began. Some said she had been turned by Dracula into one of his bloodthirsty vampires. Some said she must have killed the huge and handsome man who tried to help her. Some only shook their heads and said it would remain a mystery. What could this story mean? Was it about Deadly Moon? How would it help her? There was something in the story that would help her understand, but that something

eluded her now. She finally called it quits for the day. Stopping by Mrs. Todd’s office, she stuck her head in to say good night and made her way outside to begin the walk back to her hotel. Nikki was so engrossed in rehashing what she had read that she didn’t quite realize the sun was completely hidden in the overcast sky. She was so involved in trying to sort out this new puzzle that she didn’t quite hear or smell the stalker at her back … Silence has a sound—and it reverberates when you listen. Birds don’t chirp, locusts don’t fiddle, traffic doesn’t whiz, and the nothingness can suddenly accost you and tell you … look out! She had arrived in the shortcut alley that led to her hotel when just such a thing occurred and she paused to look around. At first, she did not see him, but she heard him and knew … He came at her in a fury of speed and power. She feigned a sidestep, knowing he would anticipate it, and he did. He went left as she stood still and took his measure. He was a vampire of some age and experience, and from the manner in which he moved, she supposed him an experienced killer. Her hand moved into her tote bag, and he sneered at her. “Got yourself a gun, little lady? Think that will help you today?” She sized him up. He had the sound of a Southern American vamp, and she also realized that he didn’t know she was a slayer. He thought her just another victim. “A gun?” she answered with a soft smile. “No—didn’t think I would need one.” He released a short laugh. “Think I’ll take my time with you … and since you are already looking at me so sweetly, come on closer, darlin’ … look into my eyes …” “No can do. Don’t like red eyes. They don’t do anything for me.” He frowned, and a snarl of irritation escaped his lips as he moved towards her. Nikki stepped back and pulled out her wooden weapon to hold it high and threateningly. He stopped short. “What the hell?” “You may want to rethink your game,” she said sweetly. “What are you?” He frowned as he looked her over. “Oh—I thought you might be old enough to know that I am one of those things that give vampires nightmares.” “A slayer …” he breathed on a hiss. His fangs now were on full display as he crouched slightly and began to circle her. “Tell me something, vamp, and I might let you live.” “Let me live, darlin’ … kinda confident, ain’t ya?” “With good reason, vamp. I’ve killed a few of you recently, of all ages, and know how it is done. Have you ever faced a slayer before?” Obviously from the look that came over his face, he hadn’t. He looked at her long before he asked, “What do you want to know?” “I already know that Deadly Moon is in Dublin, but I want to know where.” He laughed. “What makes you think I would know that?” “Well, actually, I didn’t think you would, but I thought I would give it a try …” She moved in with slayer speed, stabbed him in the thigh, and jumped back, waiting for him to go down. He did, right onto his knees, and Nikki moved in. She pushed him flat on his back and

straddled him, her stake touching a spot over his heart. “Tell me what you know about her, and I might let you live.” “Let me up … let me get into a position to run …” he suggested hopefully. “No can do. Now you have just one choice—tell me what you know or die.” “I don’t know anything other than the rumor is that she is in town … and that she is faster and deadlier than any vampire ever created … and different … very different.” Nikki positioned the stake at his heart, and he yelped in fear. “Wait … I do know one thing … I overheard a conversation … about her … and they said …” He suddenly and with amazing agility shoved at Nikki and dislodged her from his chest, taking the moment to grab at her ankle and bring her down. It was the last thing he did. A moment later he was dead, but it wasn’t by Nikki’s hand. Stunned, Nikki jumped up from the asphalt and stared at the disintegrating body before her line of vision traveled up to find Damon standing there with her bloody stake in his firm grasp, looking like an enraged demon. She fancied she could see a red and angry aura surrounding his body like an evil body halo. “Heads up,” he said as he flipped her weapon to her. Nikki found her voice, and it was full with frustration. “Why the hell did you do that? He was about to tell me something—” “He was about to rip your head off. He had you down, you little fool!” Damon snapped, his dark eyes bright. “No—I could have taken him.” “I wasn’t taking that chance.” “Not your decision to make.” “Wrong—any decision I make is always mine.” “You are an arrogant, overbearing, dominant … and why you think you need to follow me around …” “You, slayer, are too young to be anything but a fool.” And once more in a spray of air, he was gone—but this time, he had left Nikki in more doubt than ever before. Nikki brushed off the street dust and dirt and looked around. This alley saw a great deal of vampire action. Was that because she drew them here, or was there another reason? Why did no one else seem to use this shortcut to her hotel? Of course her small inn took up most of the quiet street, but there were a couple of shops on the avenue … and a park square. Where did Damon always take off to? For the hundredth time she wondered where he maintained his ‘den’. He was unique as a vampire. For one thing, she had not thought it possible for a vamp to eat or drink, and he did both. His speed was prodigious, his agility and strength formidable, and there was the thunder of menace when he took a stand. Was he following her in some way she couldn’t detect? How else did he always seem to appear out of nowhere? And—what of her clumsiness? How had she allowed the vamp to get a hold of her ankle and bring her down? That was unlike her—and was she getting too arrogant because she had been so successful in her confrontations with the vampires she had lured into her trap? Damon had stepped into the mix, managed to grab her weapon out of her loosened hold, and killed the creature—all in the flash of a moment. She had to wonder: had he

intervened to ‘save’ her or to keep the vamp from telling her anything that might aid her search for Deadly Moon? This brought on yet another question and one that created a fit of confusion in her busy brain. Was Damon Drummond in love with the vamp she had heard him call ‘Moon’ so lovingly in her dream? And that dream? It hadn’t seemed quite a dream at all. It seemed like an implanted thought … Sooner or later she was going to have to think about that dream and analyze it, but not now—now she had other matters to deal with, and one of them was getting back to her hotel, showering, and making her way to Club Merlot. John Patrick, she had decided, knew a great deal, and she had to find a way of getting him to share his information with her. She wasn’t sure she could convince him to do that, but she had to give it a try because, right then, it was all she had. He was the sort that might trade. What did she have that she could trade for information? Nothing, other than her womanly charms—and would she trade that? No. She wasn’t at that point yet … not yet. *** Nikki stepped out onto the quiet street in front of her hotel. Her fiery, gold-streaked hair looked shimmery in the light from the street lamp. She looked up at the moon and felt a rush of anticipation. She had picked up a familiar scent of vanilla and herbs she couldn’t name, peculiar to this one vampire and so unlike all others. She turned and put up her chin. “Damon.” “And where are we going, all dressed up?” he said on a light note as he casually looked her over and stepped up closer. She felt his dark eyes graze her lips, and it made her dark lashes flutter involuntarily. “I am going to a nightclub.” “All alone? What fun is there in that?” “I don’t mind being alone.” “Because you know you won’t be—don’t you?” His voice was barely audible as he reached for and took her hand and linked it through his bent arm. “Come, we’ll walk together … and, slayer, let’s not use the alley.” She frowned at him. “Yes … you are right … there is something about that alley. What is it?” “Other than it being dark and invisible to the garda?” He smiled ruefully. “Invisible to the garda?” She gasped. So that was it! The vampires had worked some kind of spell on the alley. “Aye, apparently WB has a spell or two up his sleeve. We must not underestimate him.” “WB—who is WB?” “He means to take over city after city … First, his goal is to enlist every powerful vamp there is and then to turn on and take over the government, installing vampires in positions of power. That is who we have to work against.” “You are joking, right? I mean … that is impossible. You are just cooking up this story to get me off the track of your girlfriend.” “And who is my girlfriend?” His voice sounded dangerously irritated. “We both know it is Deadly Moon.” He sighed and said with a grimace, “You think you know so much when, in fact, you

know nothing. I told you the other day, don’t assume anything about who I am. Don’t imagine that I am governed by rules that you believe govern all vampires. You will find yourself sadly out of sync.” “How can I know anything about you when you shield yourself in mystery? That is why I have to conduct my own investigation—you certainly don’t help.” “And why should I help?” She shrugged. “Why enter my scene at all? What do you want from me? You don’t think I can find your Deadly Moon, so what are you afraid of?” He dropped her hand and took her shoulders. “Little fool … don’t you know … haven’t you learned anything? I have watched you in action and thought it would be a shame if you were killed. There aren’t many of your kind, and this world will need you very shortly.” She felt her heart sink. He wanted her alive because he thought she could be of use to him in taking down this character WB. Maybe WB wanted to enlist other vamps and take over the human world, and maybe Damon just wanted her to believe that. How could she trust him? He was a vampire. And even if she believed him, then his concern covered only how he could use her. This bothered her, and she got stuck on the point in her head for a long moment. There had been a moment … when she had believed he actually might have been ‘looking out’ for her. She had imagined, however briefly, that perhaps he … but of course, that was ludicrous. She turned her face from him as she said, “I find it hard to believe that any vampire actually believes he could manage such a feat. What … does he not know that humans have it in their nature to fight back? All we would have to do is wait for daylight, track ’em all down, and the rest—” “This is not some B-grade movie. Don’t be thinking vamps sleep in coffins during the day. Many vampires can move about twenty-four seven, and when they can’t, they have humans dependent on them that look out for them. WB knows that he can accomplish what he wants by doing it city by city. He can do it, and you had better believe me. By the time humans actually find themselves believing in vampires … it will be too late.” “Okay, but if you want my help—then you are going to have to help me.” “I can’t give you Deadly Moon.” “Then I can’t help you.” He released her shoulders, and she felt a moment where she almost sidled up closer to him—and wanted to reconnect. What the hell is wrong with me, she asked herself silently but harshly. She saw him retreat into quiet thoughtfulness, and then he took up her hand and put it through his bent arm once more. His touch did something to her she could not explain and decided not to try to at that moment. Everything about him was unexplainable. However, it occurred to her that the ‘Old World’ gentleman he must have been was still deeply etched in his personality. She found that she liked it. In silence they walked the remaining distance to the club, where she turned to him and said as casually as she could, “Thanks, Damon, for walking me here, even if you had ulterior motives … but I can carry on now on my own.” “You haven’t a clue about my motives, and I am coming in with you. I am not unknown in this club, and there isn’t a vamp alive that will bother you if they think you are mine.”

Her eyebrow went up. “Yours …? But I am not yours.” “They won’t know that, and, Nikki, when you bat those beautiful blues just like that … you tempt a man beyond thought. Be careful how you use your charms, or I might just make you mine.” “Ha! You are way too sure of yourself.” She clucked her tongue and wondered just what he was doing. How could she flirt with John Patrick under Damon’s watchful eye? This was getting complicated. “Well, I can’t stop you from coming in, but …” She tried to withdraw her hand from his bent arm and found he had her firmly in place and was not letting go. She frowned at him and whispered roughly, “Come on, Damon, let go of me. I won’t walk in like I am your property.” “You have no choice.” He looked down at her. “Slayer, don’t doubt my ability to whisk you off willy-nilly here and now before you can blink those pretty lashes of yours.” “Damn it, Damon, you are cramping my style.” “On the contrary, the moment John Patrick sees you on my arm he will want you even more than he already does.” “What makes you think he wants me, and how do you know John Patrick?” “Suffice it to say that I know him and that we have history. And, slayer, I keep telling you not to underestimate me.” He grimaced. “You have been here on a few occasions … John Patrick was sure to have seen you—for me, that says it all.” She wasn’t sure what she could say to this. She certainly did not want to tell him that she knew John Patrick was attracted to her and meant to use that to glean some information. She decided to go with the flow because to do otherwise would cause a scene she did not wish to enact. Journey was being played by the band, and couples were rocking on the dance floor, but Nikki was only aware of this as a backdrop because she saw at once that several male vampires turned and openly stared as Damon as they walked in. He definitely attracted attention and caused a low, humming stir, and there was no doubt that he held Nikki to him like a possession. It annoyed the hell out of her. A vamp glanced at her for a moment longer than suited Damon. He leveled a glance at the hapless creature, who turned instantly away and lowered his head. Whoa, she thought, he wasn’t kidding about the vamps taking note and staying clear! Just who is this Damon Drummond? More to the point—what is he? Vampire, yes, but what else? John Patrick looked suavely handsome with his light brown hair slicked back and the collar of his white shirt open to the middle of his chest, where an interesting pattern of tattoos Nikki had not seen before was visible. He came forward immediately and nodded at Damon. “Good evening to ye, Drummond … Haven’t seen ye in awhile.” “Been busy.” John Patrick turned to Nikki. “I am very happy you chose to return to my club.” He smiled ruefully. “I have to wonder how you two know one another though and wish you were here … without him.” He indicated Damon with his chin. “Oh … I am not really with Damon. We simply walked here together …” She didn’t volunteer anything else about her ‘relationship’ with Damon. John Patrick smirked at Damon. “Shot down, eh, Drummond?”

“Do you think so?” John Patrick frowned and looked away from Damon. He took Nikki’s hand and said softly, “Come sit with me …” She allowed him the touch of her hand and walked with him, only glancing briefly back at Damon, who surprised her by letting her go. She glanced his way and saw that the Gothic-looking pretty vamp who had been eyeing Damon ever since they walked in was smiling intimately at him. He—damn him—he walked purposely right up to her, a warm smile softening his handsome, rugged face. Nikki couldn’t help but stare at the vamp with the black spiked hair and youthful appearance. She sensed, however, that while the vamp might look only twenty or so, from the way she moved and behaved there was no doubt that she had been a vampire for a very long time. She felt a certain amount of pique, or was it outright jealousy, as she watched Damon take the pretty vamp’s hand and kiss her fingers lingeringly. She switched into slayer mode and put her on listening ears, but all she could hear through the throng of voices and loud rock’n’roll were Damon’s first words: “Hello, Clara.” John Patrick called her attention to himself, and she had to turn and smile as he asked, it seemed with ‘forced’ casualness, “How do you happen to know Damon Drummond?” “Oh … I don’t quite remember how we met …” she said in a tone that indicated she had no interest in Damon. “How do you know him?” “He doesn’t come into my club often, but when he does, he seems to create quite a stir.” “Is he a problem for you—or your clientele? “Both.” John Patrick laughed and flicked her nose. “Is he a problem for you?” “Sometimes he gets in my way. I am looking for information, and apparently he doesn’t want me to find that information—problem.” “And what information could you possibly be looking for?” “I want to find a woman known in some circles as Deadly Moon.” There, Nikki thought, she had laid her cards out on the table. She watched him intently for his reaction. He gave her one. A long, low whistle escaped his lips. He looked to Damon and then to her and said, “Ah … so that is how you met.” He inclined his head towards Damon, now dancing slowly with Clara in his arms on the dance floor. “He wouldn’t want you to chase after Deadly Moon. She likes her privacy, and he likes her to have whatever she wants.” For some unknown reason those words pinched at her, and as she watched Damon holding the pretty Clara close on the dance floor, moving to a ballad, she felt a pang of sheer annoyance shake her complacency. She turned away from the view and smiled invitingly at John Patrick. “I am not concerned with what Damon Drummond wants or doesn’t want—I only want to find her.” “Aye, but, lass, he has a reputation for being … dangerous when displeased.” John Patrick said speculatively, “You don’t want to work him like that … it can only end badly.” “Don’t have a choice. I need to find her.” “Why?”

“Some matters are my own. The question is, John, do you know anything that might help me—or are you afraid of Damon Drummond as well?” He rubbed his chin and sighed. “Let’s not play games here, Nikki Walker. Damon Drummond be damned. Truth is I don’t need trouble … so I generally like to stay clear of it, but ye have my interest piqued. Tell me what you are doing in a place like this—why do you need to find one of the scariest vamps in history, and what the hell are you?” She laughed and touched his hand. “I am a girl whose brother was murdered by Deadly Moon … that is all you need to know. Now, your turn—can you help me?” “Aye, but the thing is, it would be sending you to your death—and, lass, I have in mind to keep ye around a bit.” “Don’t worry about me, John Patrick. Tell me what you know, and our friendship will grow.” She was promising something she had no intention of delivering, because something told her John Patrick wasn’t anyone she wanted to be involved with anytime soon. “Will you join me in my private chamber then … where we can talk about this without being overheard?” She frowned. Something in the recesses of his hazel eyes worried her. However, she believed there was no way he could force himself on her, and she suddenly realized that she also believed he had it in him to be just that sort. Why did she think that? Slayer instincts again—however, she needed the information he seemed to have, and so she shrugged. “Sure …” She added to herself, Careful, buddy I’m stronger, and faster than you … slayer here. *** Something about John Patrick’s office didn’t feel right. A sliver of unease trickled through Nikki and brought her slayer’s blood right up to high alert. Perhaps it was the scent of vampire in the room, and that scent was everywhere—on the furniture, in the air, all around her. “Sit, be comfortable …” John Patrick invited as he sat on the black leather sofa and tugged on her hand. She needed him to relax and tell her what he knew, but something felt off. In spite of that, she sat and released a heavy sigh. “Well then, John Patrick, what can you tell me about Deadly Moon?” “You first—what are you, Nikki Walker? And don’t be lying to me, pretty woman, for I will know.” “I told you. I am a sister looking for her brother’s murderer.” “Tell me something I don’t know.” “I have an extraordinary sense of … smell, and, John Patrick, there is an unusual scent in your office.” “Is there now?” “Deadly Moon? Do you in fact, know anything?” Nikki was already on her feet, her tote bag in place on her shoulder, her hand inside the bag. “I know that she is in Dublin,” he said, idly playing with his large, ornate ring. Nikki glanced at the ring, noting to herself the embossed shape of a dragon. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she answered him on a frown. He laughed and rubbed his ring some more before he stood and put it out towards her face. “Do you find this ring … unique …?”

Nikki was backing towards the door. He smiled and said quietly, “It is locked.” “To what end?” she asked as she scanned him thoroughly, realizing John Patrick was not all human. Why had she not picked up on that before? Because he had shielded himself—that was why. All at once her slayer scan shouted out that John Patrick was part demon and he was moving in on her fast. Without giving him her back, she was at the door and ripping at it to no avail. She stood facing him when she heard a welcome voice on the other side of the door say, “Stand aside, Nikki …” Without thought, she did precisely that. The door shattered into slivers, and a tall, wrathful Damon Drummond stepped through. By this time, John Patrick had partially transformed into a horned red beast of hell. He was drooling with fury and making a fist at Damon. “I will have her … When you least expect it, I will take her for my own.” Damon sneered but did not reply as he took Nikki’s arm, slung her over his shoulder, and suddenly moved into what Nikki was certain was way more than vamp speed. All at once they were outside her hotel. He allowed her to slide down his rock-hard body before he steadied her in place and took her shoulders in his strong hands. “What were you thinking?” “What do you mean?” “Going into his den alone with him? What did you think would happen?” “I thought he would give me some information …” Nikki faltered. “Evidently I was wrong about you, slayer!” he snapped. “You are not just a stoopid little girl, you are an imbecile.” Damon was in a rage. She could see that, but she couldn’t understand it. She had to admit that, yes, she had been in a little bit of trouble, but she was almost certain she could have saved herself. “What … why would you say such a thing—and how dare you!” She had never before said ‘how dare you’ to anyone, and now that she had, it felt silly. She looked away from him, but he took her chin and forced her to look back at him. “Couldn’t you pick up on his scent? You are a slayer—a slayer with a bloodline of exceptional talents. Nikki, weren’t you told about your birthright? Your bloodline goes back a thousand years. Your ancestors took down every evil thing that crossed their path—not just vampires!” Yes, Nikki’s mom had told her everything she needed to know, but when Jack had been killed, her heritage took a backseat to what she needed to do—and what she needed to do had quickly turned into an obsession. All she cared about was locating and destroying Deadly Moon. What did she care about her ‘birthright’? Nikki stared at him, saw his outrage, and holed up in stubbornness. Who and what she was actually was none of his business. He wasn’t her keeper! “I am amazed you had any time to think about what I was doing,” dribbled from her lips before she could think. His face turned into stone, and then one eyebrow went up as he said in a low-throttled growl, “Are you jealous, Nikki?” “Don’t even go there!” she snapped. “Then don’t bloody hell change the subject.” “The subject? Oh, it is okay to talk about me as the subject, but not you and your little Clara.” Again the words were out before she could slap a hand over her blabbering mouth.

“Clara is a long-time friend, and my association with her is none of your business.” Nikki felt the words pierce her skin and stab at everything that felt anything in her body. Hurt coursed through her system. Her chin went up, and she used some of her slayer strength to push off him and rush into the hotel. She was fully aware that he didn’t even make an attempt to stop her. There was no one at the desk, and Damon had not followed her. She pushed the elevator button and went upstairs. At her door she took out her key and her wooden weapon, which she raised as she entered her suite. No one there. Well, this evening couldn’t have been much worse, she thought as she slumped into a chair to clear her mind. And then, it did just that—it got worse! *** John Patrick, in human form once again, stepped out of the darkness of the far corner of her hotel suite. Nikki picked up the aroma of something burning and realized it was coming from him because he was morphing once more into the red-skinned demon. She took up her weapon, which was beside her on the bed, and got to her feet. “Hello, John …” she said softly, hoping to coerce him back into human form. “How did you get here so fast?” “I slipped in while you and your boyfriend were having a lover’s quarrel. Ye see, darlin’, I’m used to getting what I want, and here is the thing … I want ye … and I want ye now.” “That is flattering, but we haven’t even had a first date yet … and I never on a first date.” She tried coyness as she started to move into position. Could a demon be killed with a wooden stake? What had her mother taught her … demons … demons … how did one kill a demon? “I know what ye be, Nikki … I figured it out almost at once. Ye can see them—the vampires … and ye kill them. Slayer … that’s what ye be.” “Ah, smart man—er … demon. Tell me, were you born this way, or was it something you acquired?” It made a difference, her mother had taught her. Those born into it were harder to kill. “Born this way,” he said hoarsely. “That is enough pillow talk, darlin’ … now for some action.” He dove at her, and she jumped gymnastically out of his reach and flew across the room. He dove at her then before she could recoup and had her slender bare arm in his clawlike appendage. She felt her blood flow, and he bent his head to lick it. “Eweye …” she screamed as she doubled her fists and slayer-strength pounded him across the cheek, sending him sideways. She went after him and kicked him in the face. It only unbalanced him for a moment, and then he roared with both fury and pain as he got into a crouched position as if to spring. “Now, I am going to have to hurt ye, darlin’, hurt ye bad jest to show ye who is in charge, because ye are going to be mine and ye are going to obey me.” “Think again,” she said as she threw off her heels, which had broken during their scuffle. She virtually climbed the wall to somersault behind him. He was taken off guard, and she slammed down her wooden stake, plunging it deep into his chest and hoping he had a heart she could stop. He didn’t. He reached for the stake and with a furious sound pulled it out and held it high. He shook it at her and then threw it to the side. “Did ye think a vampire weapon

could hurt the likes of me? Do ye know how long I’ve lived? Nearly two hundred years I have walked m’beloved Ireland … so think again, darlin’ … think again.” She was in a pickle, her inner voice told her. She had to remember—what had her mother taught her about a human born with a demon inside? She needed to get to her wooden stake. It might not kill him, but it might just slow him down if she managed to hit the right spot. She inched towards it as she attempted to divert his attention by saying, “Right—okay, I get it, you are more than special. So what does kill a demon born, John Patrick?” “Not much,” he said on a sneer. His expression was hideous in the lined, red leather skin he had for a face, and she wondered where the pleasant man had gone. She was almost there, and she managed to reach her weapon with her toe. He saw what she was doing and dove at her. She rolled out of the way, jumped up with a speed that amazed her, and as he came at her, dove once more, this time getting on top of the stake, rolling over once more. He was on her immediately. “Whot are ye doing, ye little bitch? I told ye, I can’t be killed like a vampire …” “No … maybe not quite like a vampire …” She wrenched herself just enough to produce the wooden weapon and drive it home. He looked surprised for a moment, and she scurried away from him. He stood and once again he pulled the stake out of his chest and threw it aside. “I like yer spunk, but that did hurt, and ye will have to pay for that before I lay ye down.” She had the stake once more in her grip, and this time when she came at him, she feigned a move and instead caught his ankles with her own and brought him down. However, he was more athletic than he looked. He was up and coming after her, his arms making an arc and his voice now merely series of grunts and growls of fury. I am in trouble. She backed up and tried to think of a way out of it, and then out of nowhere, she was shoved behind a tall, strong body and told, “Stay. Can’t I take my eyes off you for one moment?” Damon faced the demon and said angrily, “John Patrick, why don’t you take a minute and tell me that you will honor the fact that this one is mine. If you give me your word … I might let you live.” “Yours … and when did that happen? Last I saw ye were getting together with yer old flame, Clara.” “Which shows you how little you know, John Patrick.” “But I claimed this one first … ye know how it is, Damon … I have a lust for her, a demon lust that needs assuaging.” “I’ve seen what happens to the women you lust for—not pretty.” “This one is different.” “That’s right. This one is mine—perhaps when I am done with her, you can take your turn.” Damon’s stone-cold countenance told a story the demon couldn’t deny. Evidently he knew he couldn’t get the better of Damon, and he shrugged as he stood back and moved towards the door. “This round to ye, Damon Drummond … but, there’s no telling where the next round will take us.” So saying, he left, slamming the door at his back. Damon turned to Nikki, and his nose flared with his anger. “Pack your things. You are coming with me, and I’ll only say it once, slayer … I’ll brook no argument on this. With or without your clothes, with or without your consent, you are coming with me.”

Nikki opened her mouth, saw the expression on his face, and mumbled as she started throwing things into her suitcases. It didn’t take long, and when she was packed, they quietly made their way downstairs, where she checked out, paid her bill, and followed Damon onto the street. She was surprised to find a black and very sleek Maserati GranCabio Sport with the top down. Apparently Damon Drummond had some bucks and liked to travel in style. But where was he taking her? And, hell, why did she trust him to take her anywhere? *** Damon glanced at Nikki as he drove them out of the city. The wind whipped at them in the convertible; it was cool, but it felt so good. His mind was in that same mad inner turmoil he had felt the first time he had seen her. Everything about her made something feral deep inside him come alive. Her beauty captured his interest, but, damn, he had told himself at the outset, he had been with many beautiful women over the centuries. She was just another one—wasn’t she? He never let himself get too attached. He couldn’t … especially with a human female who might linger in his mind long after she had aged and died. So why the bloody hell did her eyes move him? They were a deep shade of blue like the blue color of Wedgwood china, and they were full with an open display of insight. She had so much intelligence; it glittered in the depths of her eyes and held him with an invisible power. Something about the way she regarded him seemed to have whispery threads that wrapped themselves through his brain. When her bright eyes flickered with sudden understanding or confusion, he discovered himself mesmerized, as though he physically couldn’t look away. She would smile, and it drew a reluctant smile from him even when he was set against the pleasantry. Fleeting expressions passed over her lovely face and ensnared him beyond his will. And then, she would infuriate him with her stubborn obsession to track Deadly Moon. That was something he could not—would not—allow, and there wasn’t time for him to make her understand. She would soon learn that staying alive—fighting to contain the rising power WB was beginning to wield—would take over both their lives … Eventually WB would discover her existence, view her as a potential enemy and threat, and set his militants on her. She could not fight them all, and he could not watch her every move, although he found he wanted to. Dreaming lately had left him with one raging hard-on after another. And then, the dream he had the other night—so damn real. He had been touching her, caressing her, seducing her as she lay against her bed, naked and vulnerable … He shook this thought away. He had no time for nonsense. He knew how to control his desires. However, looking at her with her fiery hair blowing in the wind, he was half inclined to pull over and take her into his arms. She seemed unaware of his mood. Good—he couldn’t have her guessing what he was thinking in that regard. She seemed lost to her thoughts as she studied the passing scenery. He knew a moment of sheer misery. He was a man that had learned long ago not to put himself into a position whereby he would end up wanting what he couldn’t have. He would never be normal—not in any world. He was not a normal vampire … quite the opposite. He was not human any longer. He had made up his mind to take the road of least involvement and hurt …

Yeah, Damon, he silently cursed himself, that’s why you can’t seem to take your damn eyes off her … and if you aren’t careful, you are going to run your handsome car into something. He knew what he needed—he damn well knew that in order to get her out of his system he needed to fuck her … But that wasn’t what he wanted. Taking Nikki Walker to bed might just make it all worse. Taking her to bed might just intensify what he was feeling, and he couldn’t have that … he just couldn’t. She turned and smiled at him, and he felt something inside burst into flame. He felt a primal urge to grab at the gold-lit red hair blowing around her stunning face and pull her to his side. He raced out of the city and reminded himself how wildly improbable their union would be. She was human, and he was not. However, all that didn’t matter. He had to get her to safety, and he had to teach her how to protect herself better than she was presently capable of doing. Soon, very soon, they—all humanity—would be hit by a growing menace, and he wasn’t sure where they would take the hit first. He only knew that she thought herself so much better equipped than she really was. He felt her eyes linger on his face, and he shifted his gaze to hers. She gave him a rueful smile as she appraised him, and he returned the favor, hoping she had not seen the heat, the open desire he felt for her. “What?” she asked doubtfully. “Nothing, slayer … just enjoying the night air.” “Hmmm—yes, I like convertibles, and this is nice for a change.” She sighed as she returned her eyes to the passing scenery. “I almost feel … almost—not quite, just almost—normal.” She turned to him again and studied him. “Why did you let him live?” “John Patrick?” “Yes, John Patrick.” “Because just now … he might be more useful alive than dead.” “How—why?” “We will have to wait and see.” “Wait and see what?” “Patience, slayer, is something you need to learn. It might save your life some day.” He saw her open her exquisite mouth, decide against saying anything, and sit back against her seat, and he smiled to himself. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than for this drive to continue into eternity where all other matters were inconsequential. She sat up with sudden purpose and stared at him. “Tell me, Damon … you are a vampire—why would you have any interest in helping humans?” “I like humans,” he said lightly, not looking at her. “Can you not answer me honestly?” “Why do you think that answer dishonest?” “I don’t precisely, but I am not a fool—there is more to it.” “Just because you call me a vampire doesn’t mean I am one in the true sense,” he offered enigmatically. Both of her eyebrows arched. “Are you telling me you are not a vampire?” “I am telling you that not everything is what it seems to be on the surface. You know that, you were taught that by your slayer mother, but somehow you have forgotten it.”

Her lashes flickered, and he could see that a memory had momentarily diverted her. However, she returned her attention to him. “Yes, but I get … vampire off your essence … the slayer in me reads vampire when I see you.” “Is that all you see—when you look at me, Nikki, is that all you see?” She considered this and frowned because that wasn’t all she saw. There was so much more, like his scent, which was spicy and touched with the aroma of pine and vanilla— not vampire scent at all—and there was something else, something she couldn’t name … He smiled to himself and said off-handedly, “You have quite a bit to learn if we are going to work together. One of the things you will have to learn is this—I don’t conform to the rules you think all vampires fit into, and neither does Deadly Moon.” “She killed my brother.” “So you think—but you have no proof, and I will not believe it until she tells me so.” Nikki paused and took a moment. He watched her collect herself and waited to see what next would filter from her lively brain. Finally she asked, “John Patrick said you … and that Clara vamp have history. Is that why you wanted to go to the club tonight?” She had changed the subject entirely, and he was surprised. “Do you mean did I know Clara was going to be there?” “Did you?” “No … but I hoped.”

~ Seven ~ NIKKI CLAMMED UP and turned away to stare into the dark woods bordering the country road he had turned off onto. The road was winding and poorly lit, but Nikki’s eyesight was slayer good. So, she thought, he hoped to find Clara vamp at the club. Why that should matter to her, she didn’t know, but she did know it felt supremely irritating. She scrunched up her face and resolutely changed the subject in her mind by staring at the very large tract of fenced-in land they were approaching. He slowed the Maz until he brought it to a stop outside two stone pillars flanking a simple black wrought-iron gate. She watched as Damon punched in a code, and those gates opened wide. As they drove along the blacktop driveway, Nikki was mesmerized by the manicured lawns, old oak trees, and the view of a large thatched-roof cottage ahead. This was not where she imagined a vampire with age would call home. That’s right, slayer, we are talking vampire, her inner voice shouted at her. Look where you are— never mind how pretty, it is a vampire’s den and you are cozying up with a full-fledged, powerful vampire. What’s up with that, slayer? She didn’t have an answer to the question, so she decided to ignore it. Another question reared itself. What the hell are you doing thirty minutes out of Dublin? You need to be where the action is if you’re going to find a vamp who knows where Deadly Moon is holed up. Yes, but here I am with a vampire who knows exactly where she might be, she answered herself reasonably. Fool, came the reply. He won’t lead you to her! No, but perhaps he might give me something to go on without realizing it, she suggested as a viable argument. Double fool, if you think that. And then his Irish home came fully into her view and chased away such thoughts. It was built along English lines with a thatched roof, a rose garden with an arbor, and lovely trimmed evergreens that framed the pretty, cream-colored architecture. Nikki, in spite of herself, oohed and aahed. “This is beautiful … not what I expected at all.” “And what did you expect, slayer, a dark manor with dead ivy and dungeons?” “Actually, yes.” He laughed and shook his head. “You have so much to learn.” He brought the Maz to a stop at the apron of a three-car garage whose door he opened with a remote. It lit up as the door lifted up, and Nikki’s eyes opened wide to see a BMW and a Wrangler jeep within. “Wow—you like cars.” “I do and have more in the city.” She eyed him for a long, quiet moment and wondered how he made his money. As though reading her mind he said softly, “I started out with family wealth and built upon it

over the years, but most intelligent vamps learn how to acquire money over time.” He got out of the car and came around to open her door as she picked up her tote bag. When he took her hand to help her out, she was sure she must have rubbed her foot against something to cause the electric spark that traveled through her body. She looked at him to see if he had felt the electricity, but if he did, he gave no sign of it. She stood waiting, unsure what to say, what to do, as he took her bags out of the trunk and turned to her. “This way, slayer …” She noted the odd little smirk on his face as he led her down the flagstone path to the pretty blue-painted front door and tried to concentrate instead on her surroundings. An array of annuals and early spring perennials designed to greet and make your eyes open wide flanked the walkway. Their steps were illuminated by five-foot lamps along the way, and the entire effect was impressively charming. “Damon … this is so lovely. Do you lease the place?” “Mine,” he answered simply. “But you are English … do you not live in England?” “I have lived in England …” he said, putting her bags down and punching in yet another code to unlock the door. He put his hand on her elbow, and she almost closed her eyes against the shudder that rippled through her at his touch. He led her inside, brought in the bags, and set them on the small central hall’s oak flooring. He turned on the lights. “… but, you know that already—I know I mentioned my New Forest home … still fully functional and mine. I chose to live in the United States these past … oh … many years, but here is where I come for the most part when I choose to stay in Ireland.” She took a turn around the small central hall, stopping at a set of oak double doors. She placed her hand on the brass door handle and asked, “May I?” “I hope so …” He smiled softly. She didn’t need more encouragement. This cottage was a place out of her fantasy dream house collection that lived in her mind. She discovered a wonderfully decorated and comfortable what she would think of as an Irish ‘sitting room’ on the other side of the door. The room’s decor was designed around furniture upholstered in waves of green ferns and mauve flowers with a small fireplace on the far wall and lead-paned windows overlooking the surrounding gardens. She turned round and crossed the hall to another set of matching double doors and didn’t ask this time as she opened them wide and put her hands together appreciatively. Before her eyes was a library with rows upon rows of books and manuscripts, some in glass displays. “This is … so fantastic!” she whispered in some awe, stepped within the room, and went straight to the bookshelves. She felt his dark eyes watching her and had to admit that everything about Damon Drummond enticed her in ways she had never thought possible. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, and touched her—all served to leave her insides on edge and her imagination … but, no. She had to get control of herself, because thinking about Damon in just that way was the road to hell. He was a vampire playboy! Just look at the lineup she had already encountered after their short acquaintance. There was the lovely vampire, Clara, and Deadly Moon, somewhere in the mix, and probably a few others on the side. No, no. She wasn’t about to fall into his trap.

“Sit, relax … I’ll go fix us some tea …” She laughed. “Tea? You drink tea?” He didn’t answer her as he gave her an odd smile and left the room. She moved over and turned on a couple of lamps and then started inspecting some of Damon’s book collection. There it was. Vampire and Other Undead. She stared at the title reposing so casually on a sideboard table and without thinking glanced over her shoulder before she picked it up and began perusing. It was a collection of legends that had been handed down first by word of mouth and then through letters and various newspaper articles. It listed names of ‘famous’ vampires, such as Dracula, Morbant, and a recluse female vampire known as Deadly Moon. Nikki heard footsteps and hurriedly stuffed the book into a shelf out of immediate sight. She turned to smile at Damon, who came in holding a tray. On it were a pot of steaming hot tea and a platter of biscuits. “Food too?” “Aye, I was here the other night and filled the pantry and the fridge with supplies.” “Knew we were coming, did you?” Nikki asked suspiciously. “Knew that eventually we would have to come here and collect ourselves so that we could plan a strategy.” “We—why would you think that you and I could form a ‘we’? And what strategy—for what?” “In your particular case, a good strategy would be to try and stay alive, something I hope you can do.” He hesitated and added, “In fact, it is a priority for me to keep you alive in spite of yourself.” “Staying alive is something I want to do. What makes you think I need your help, and why do you care one way or the other?” “Do I really care, slayer, or do I have an ulterior motive to want you alive?” He presented her with the thought in his usual enigmatic style. “Do you … care?” He laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do care. I need you to stay alive, as you are a key ingredient in the battle ahead.” “Battle—what battle?” “Don’t you listen at all, slayer? I have been telling you about WB and his clan. They want to rule, not just the vamps but the human world, and they have the might to accomplish it if we don’t put a spoke in their wheel.” She snorted. “Slayer here, not soldier. How the heck do you think little ol’ me can stand up beside just you? And no matter how much you may think you can do, you are just one, and his is quite a huge clan … or so you told me.” “I don’t think that you and I can stand up against all of them all at once. You and I— and a few friends—are going to take them down, a few at a time, until we can get WB in our sights. Once we topple him, it’s over.” “I didn’t come here for that. I have another priority.” “You’ll never come face to face with Deadly Moon unless we put a stop to WB.” She eyed him quizzically. “Are you saying you will tell me where she is … if I help you do this?” “I will arrange a meeting for the two of you, and you can air your grievance to her and

see what she has to say.” “Deal,” she said at once. As soon as she got into the same room with her brother’s murderer, she would take her down. He eyed her, and as though reading her mind he said softly, “You won’t stand a chance. You have no idea what she is, how powerful she is.” “I’ll take my chances when the time comes,” Nikki said on a hard note. “In the meantime, you have a deal.” “Right, then. We’ll get started in the morning. Drink your tea while it is hot.” Nikki sipped and even ate a shortbread cookie before she asked, “What are we starting in the morning?” “You, slayer, are about to call on the force buried in your slayer mind. You have inherent ability in your bloodline to be able to stand up to demons as well as vampires, and once you learn the knack … you just might stand a chance in this brave new world they are creating.” “And you are doing this because you need my help?” Nikki said in a small voice. “To what? Kill vamps and demons? Because …” She put out her hands expressively. “Already doing it … at least the vamp part.” He snorted. “You haven’t come across any of WB’s clan. Quite a different story. They each have specific skills that could take you by surprise. I need to teach you what some of those skills you will be facing are and how to defeat each and every one we know about.” “We? And how do you know …?” “We—I already told you that we have friends in this effort, and as to how do I know, I have my ways,” he said briskly. “And, slayer, don’t go underestimating your opponents or your friends.” “And supposedly you are my … er, friend? You being a vamp … and me a slayer?” “Aye, not quite a match made in heaven, eh?” *** Sleep hadn’t come easily that evening. Nikki’s bedroom was pretty and had a leadpaned window that opened out and allowed her fresh air. Even so she tossed and turned and told herself it was not because his bedroom was across the narrow hallway. It wasn’t because she had with her slayer hearing been able to hear him pace and then toss about in his bed … his bed … She wondered for a moment what sort of bed he slept in, and then she shut the imagination down. He had seen her to her room and placed her bags in her walk-in closet, which also housed extra pillows, sheets, and blankets. He told her that he only had a cleaning crew come in once a week. She had watched him as he started to go and asked, “Do you sleep?” “Do you mean do I sleep during the day?” “Yes, do you sleep during the day?” “Quite often.” “And do you need to sleep in total darkness? How exactly does it work?” “For every vampire, it is different. Some vamps only sleep during the daylight. Some don’t sleep at all. Some, contrary to belief, are not harmed by daylight but find it … uncomfortable.” “And you?” “You will have to get to know me and find out for yourself.”

“But now … you are going to your room … to sleep?” She didn’t know why she needed to know; she only knew for some absurd reason it suddenly seemed important. It was only past midnight. He turned and came back to her. His hands took her waist and drew her close. “Is there a reason you are asking? Is there something you need that I can provide?” There was a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. She pulled away. “No … no … just curious.” “Curiosity can get you into trouble, slayer,” he said softly and left her in the opening of her doorway. He opened his door and, without a backwards glance, went inside his room. She did not hear him lock his door. She hadn’t even bothered to brush her teeth as she scrambled into a sweatshirt and dove under the covers. What the hell are you doing, Nikki Walker, she asked herself, and just what are you doing holed up with Mr. Vampire Supreme? Sleep came suddenly, cocooning her in its folds and pulling her into its trance, and ‘the dream’ returned and took over, just as it had the night before. It was as though she opened her eyes and discovered him … On the bed, pulling off her sweatshirt, bending his head, licking her nipples as she trembled to his touch. She peered through the darkness; only the dim light of a partial moon cast shadows throughout, but she could see the outline of his chiseled features and hungry, dark eyes. She could see the intricate design of tattoos on his chest … Oh God, she thought fitfully, it feels so real. She felt a savage life-force inside her pound and claw to get out, and she wanted to give it freedom. She wanted him with all her being. As he bent to kiss her, she arched to him, allowing his throbbing cock to brush up against her thigh, and she trembled with a newfound wantonness that she decided to embrace. Someone in her head was shouting, Wake up, Nikki, wake up! “Go away,” she whispered, and suddenly he was gone. “No—no … not you … you come back,” she actually called out loud, but it was too late; once again she was awake. However, he wasn’t gone at all, but standing in her doorway with his finger up to his lips in a warning to her to be silent. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts, and she saw at once that he sported the exact tattoos she had seen on his chest in her dream! However, there wasn’t time to contemplate the meaning of this. She could feel a change in the atmosphere, as though something like a huge black hole had just opened somewhere in the house. What the hell? Something was wrong! He motioned for her to stay, but in a flash she was up and pulling on a pair of sweatpants, thinking she must look awful in her rumpled gray sweats. He heard her coming up behind him and turned to give her a black look, but she was already there, practically on top of him as she touched his skin and thought to herself that it felt like velvet. Her finger slipped into the waist of his boxer shorts, and he turned again to give her an unfathomable look but still proceeded on without saying anything. She couldn’t help but notice that he had an unusual-looking long sword firmly gripped in his right hand. They got downstairs, and he pulled up short. Nikki stared hard at what they found—a tall, powerful-looking man with a mass of tawny hair that reminded Nikki of a lion’s mane. He stood there grinning happily, asking as he turned on the lights, “English—how the hell are ye?”

The man’s gaze shifted to the sharp and shiny blade of the long sword that Damon was carrying, and his eyebrow arched quizzically. “Expecting trouble?” “You’re here, aren’t you?” Damon laughed heartily as he went forward, grabbed the big hunk’s shoulders, and gave him a hearty shake. “Chad … what are you doing here at this hour? Did you come alone, or is my little Shawna with you?” “Shawna isn’t yers. Why after all this time do I still have to be telling ye that? She, my poor friend, is mine—all mine.” He chuckled amiably and added, “I shifted in … alone this time. Shawna is still asleep, and with any good luck she still will be when I shift back—otherwise she’ll be giving me sass for coming here without her.” He shook his head over the problem. Damon grinned. “You’ll be getting it sooner or later anyway … for you are bound to tell her you were here.” “Aye, that is the sorry long and short of it.” The big Scotsman sighed heavily. “The thing is I just didn’t have the time, and I didn’t want to wake her after the day we had …” “What do you mean?” “We had trouble in Inverness … vamps and a demon as well, but never mind that. I’m here because I just had a vision, and ye need to know, English, it was a really bad vision.” He looked past Damon then as he seemed to suddenly notice Nikki still leaning up against Damon’s back. He raised an eyebrow at Damon while he threw Nikki a ‘hello’ smile. “It seems I have interrupted … begging yer pardon, miss.” “No, no … interruption … just sleeping … separate rooms—sleeping. Pleased to meet you … I am Nikki Walker. You … you are Scottish, and, and … just what are you?” Nikki blabbered all at once. All this while she had been trying to figure out what it was she was sensing about the big hunk, for she certainly was picking up on otherworldly vibes. “Pleased I am to meet ye, Nikki Walker.” “This is Lord Chadwick MacFare, and as you have already noted, he unfortunately is a Scotsman—a happily married one,” Damon said as his dark eyes narrowed. He frowned first at Nikki and then at Chad before he returned his attention to the subject at hand. “Tell me about your vision, man.” “Aye then … I think she was in it,” Chad said, indicating Nikki with a nod in her direction. “I kept hearing the word, slayer …” He eyed Damon as he paused and added, “Explains quite a bit that I didn’t understand.” “Yes, Nikki is a slayer … actually an exceptional slayer, but never mind that now— let’s get on with it.” Damon sounded irritated even though he had not meant to. He could see the interest Nikki openly displayed as she looked over the Scotsman from head to booted toe, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. Chad put up his hands and laughed. “So that is the lay of the land.” He waved it off and said, “No time for that now … as ye suggest—the vision.” Damon had leaned his sword up against the wall and motioned for Chad to go into the library, but Chad shook his head. “Not here to get comfortable. I’ll tell ye what I know and be on m’way.” Thus they all remained standing. “Right … you had a vision …?” Damon urged. “Aye, and though I hate to admit it, Damon, you were all too right when you said we shouldn’t have let WB live. He has a strong noose around the vamps in Dublin and means

to use that city as his first example of power.” “Did you see an outcome?” “No … but I saw you there … in the midst of it all, and, Damon, there was blood and gore everywhere, and I had a hazy vision of someone at your back …” “When?” “I am not certain, but soon.” “Was it you at my back?” “No … I saw m’dad and m’self in Edinburgh and then in Inverness … with some others—don’t have a notion who they were.” “Advice?” “I don’t have any. I’ve got both m’father and m’grandmother at Darby Gray, and I’ll be much in the same boat as ye—taking on the clan. I have a bad feeling that the three we took out last evening were part of WB’s clan—scouts, I think. And one other thing— there is a name that keeps popping into my head. I don’t know anything about her, never heard of her before, and I don’t know if she means to help or hinder.” “What name is that?” “Deadly Moon … an ancient female vampire. I can’t quite see her in my vision, but she most definitely seems to float around in the background …” “I see,” Damon answered thoughtfully. “I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Nikki Walker, exceptional slayer.” He winked at Damon as he bent ‘Old World style’ over Nikki’s fingers. “Perhaps in the near future, Damon will bring you to Scotland where you can meet my wife.” So saying, he flicked his wrist and the airwaves began to swirl. He stepped through and was gone. “What the hell?” Nikki blinked. *** Nikki’s hands were on her hips. “Who was that, and what the frig is going on here? Did I see him vanish into thin air?” “Aye …” Damon answered absently. “Which is strange, because he didn’t seem worried about you seeing him shift in. That in itself is a great oddity. Chadwick MacFare and his family guard their secrets well.” “What secrets? What is he?” “You will have to ask the Scotsman that yourself, slayer. I don’t break promises, and his secrets have become mine to guard.” “Oh … this is so frustrating.” Nikki moved in agitated circles. Her hands were clasped and at her lips. Damon took her hands into his large ones and held them as he looked down at her and into her blue eyes. His voice was soft and soothing. “Steady there, slayer … all you need to know is that Chadwick MacFare and his immediate family are my friends, in the true sense.” “He gets visions?” Nikki pursued. “That he does.” “Accurate?” “In a manner of speaking they are. According to Chad, just because he gets a vision of the future, it doesn’t mean that what he sees is written in stone. There are too many variables that come into play.” “Then a lot of help that is to us,” Nikki said dryly.

Damon released her clasped hands and watched as she relaxed. She didn’t move away from him either, and one dark brow arched. “So then, slayer … you have decided to throw in your lot with us and help us battle WB and his clan?” “I didn’t exactly say that. However, as long as it doesn’t sidetrack me from my main purpose … yes, I will help.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how his vision can help us though—if as you say it can be influenced by ‘variables’.” “Amazingly enough, I have found his visions immensely helpful,” Damon said quietly. She couldn’t help but notice that he chewed on his bottom lip as though in deep thought. Her glance traveled to his dark, mysterious eyes, and she couldn’t stop her tongue, which suddenly licked at the corner of her mouth. Something passed between them— something hot and electric and demanding and … He splashed cold water on her as he said on a dismissive note, “You better go on up and get some sleep.” “What are you going to do?” “I have something that needs to be done at once, and I need to do it alone.” “You don’t trust me?” “Oddly enough, slayer, I trust you implicitly, but … I find your presence a distraction, and what I need to do will take my full concentration.” “Okay … but, Damon … you, I guess won’t be around tomorrow?” “Why do you say that?” “Daylight—vampire—duh?” He laughed out loud and shook his head. “You are hung up on vampire rules, and that is fine with the usual breed, but I have told you enough for you to get it through your head, I am not given to vampire maxims.” “So then you will be around?” “No, but not for the reason you believe.” She released an exasperated sigh. “I need to go to town and get a few things.” He frowned as he considered the ramifications, and she saw the moment when he made up his mind. He waved it off as he spoke. “If you must, I shall allow this one excursion, as no one can possibly know that you are here with me … just yet. Take the Jeep Wrangler … the keys are in the garage, hanging on the wall.” “Making it easy for a thief, aren’t you?” “No one can enter my premises without permission. The house and all our surrounding land is specifically warded with arcane magic—however, there are a select few who know the trick of getting past a ward or two.” “Like Chadwick MacFare?” She eyed Damon speculatively. He chuckled. “The Scotsman has an open welcome to come and go as he pleases.” “You trust him that much?” “I do—now off with you.” So saying he had her hand, pulled her along, gave her butt a light swat, and grinned wickedly as she turned outraged eyes on him and silently wagged a finger. She allowed the issue to drop untouched and found herself taking the stairs far more light-hearted than she thought it possible to feel. When she was halfway up she turned, and her voice was softer than she intended. “Do you always sleep in those …” She indicated with her chin the black boxer shorts.

“No, love. I pulled these on when I sensed someone enter our space—I like to sleep in the nude,” he said and grinned. She got stuck on the image in her mind of Damon Drummond sleeping nude but managed to shoo it away and asked, “You heard someone while you were sleeping?” “I wasn’t really sleeping as you know it. I was in twilight, a place I go to rest.” She had hoped that he had been asleep in his boxers, because that would mean her dream hadn’t been a magic of her subconscious mind. It would have meant she hadn’t somehow broken out of her reality, and brought his spirit into another dimension where … This was awful. She had to get control of herself. Or—perhaps she wasn’t the one creating the dream? What if he had been the one who sent her images of himself …? What if he were trying to seduce her through dreams …? Nah! That wasn’t his style. If Damon Drummond wanted to seduce a woman, he would make his move in the flesh! She hurried up the remaining steps and rushed her bedroom to dive under the covers. No more dreams, please, no more dreams. When I give myself like that, I want to be awake! *** The keys to only two of Damon’s cars hung on a key rack inside the luxurious garage, and Nikki wondered for a moment where he had gone. She stood there and contemplated. He had said to take the Wrangler, but perversely, she looked at the BMW keys and reached for them. She hesitated and then with a wicked grin took them, flipped them in the air, and caught them with one hand. Laughing, she opened its beautifully painted black shiny door and slipped inside. She took a moment to familiarize herself with the dashboard, sniffed at the wonderful aroma of new leather, ran her hand over its smooth, naughty redness, and slipped the key into place. The engine purred like a wildcat with the promise of power, and she backed out, took a moment to click the remote, watched the garage door come down, and then headed out! Damon had slipped her a note under her door with both the gate code for her return and directions to the little village of Tor. As she drove along the countryside of lush green pastures where grazing sheep and horses didn’t bother to look up as she sped past them, she thought about her night. There had been no more dreams of any kind. She had, in fact, slept like a baby until something did wake her. She decided that perhaps it had been the clap of thunder, which continued for quite a bit after she had awakened. Lazily she stretched and got out of bed to have a look at the morning’s view of the storm from her window and saw Damon, naked to the waist, standing in the rain and the cold with his arms outstretched. With her slayer hearing she listened in as he chanted something in ancient Gaelic. What was he doing? Would he tell her if she asked him? Had it something to do with safeguarding his property? But he had said the place was already warded. What then? After she had showered and thrown on a black sweater and blue jeans with her black heeled boots, she had gone to his door and put her hand up to knock. Something stopped her. After another moment at his door, undecided, she turned away, went downstairs, made and drank some coffee, found some shortbread cookies, and devoured them in no time.

A moment later she was slipping into her black leather blazer, picking up her tote, checking for her weapon. Yup, still there. She headed outside for the garage. It was already late morning, nearly noon. Was she off her course? Had she been too quick to agree to the deal Damon had presented? No—that was the only way she would get a look at Deadly Moon. The deal he had struck up with her seemed now in retrospect too easy. Why had he offered to arrange a meeting with Deadly Moon? Did he need her help that much with this awful WB clan, or had he just set up a diversion for her? What was to stop him from obtaining her attention and then telling her he couldn’t find Deadly Moon? In this case, it was a matter of trust … did she trust him? She just wasn’t sure. Should she be trying to track Deadly Moon in Dublin on her own? Her instincts told her that the best way to find Deadly Moon was to honor her agreement with Damon Drummond, but he would have to come through for her—sooner than later. She arrived at the charming little village of Tor and parked the car. She thought it was the flash of his vehicle that turned more than a few male heads. As a rule, Nikki was unconscious about her looks. She dressed simply, wore little to no makeup, and bounced around without regard to the fact that she was breathtakingly beautiful. As she walked down the avenue, she smiled and nodded at various people passing by. Finally she found and ducked into the small general store. There she purchased a few toiletries and then went across the street to a charming little ladies’ boutique. She was holding up a pretty black lace-trimmed knit tank top when a male voice at her back said softly, “I was thinking of that one …” “Were you?” Nikki smiled and handed him the knit top. It cost a pretty penny, and she had decided against it. She moved on to another lovely knit top and held it up, only to be diverted by him almost in her ear this time. “Would ye hold this against yerself … jest so I could judge how it might fit m’sister?” Nikki considered him for a moment. Her arched brow and expression, she hoped, advised him that he was ‘out of line.’ She saw now that this Irishman with the light brown hair and freckles was attempting to charm her. His brown eyes were tinted with gold and alight with interest. He was quite good-looking in a way, but—and there it was, the but—something was off. She didn’t know what, but she stepped away from him and said amiably. “Don’t you know her size?” “It’s her birthday, and her friends are giving her a surprise party. Didn’t want to ask her size and chance giving it away. I already got her a locket but wanted a little pretty thing for her to wear. It’s jest the two of us left, ye see. Thought as ye be jest about her height … though she is a bit heavier than ye be …” He couldn’t be making all that up, just to pick her up in a clothing store? Nikki chided herself. She had become so suspicious of everything and everyone. She eyed him and said with just a bit warmer smile, “You thought I would model clothing for you?” Nikki again hoped he understood from her demeanor that she was shooting him down—as nicely as she could, but down all the same. She didn’t have the inclination or the time for this. He must have a sister. There must be a surprise birthday party coming up, and it had to

be true that all that was left of his immediate family was himself and his sister. She thought of her brother—her dead brother, murdered by a vampire … throat torn out—and she softened to him. This was just a nice guy, doing a normal guy thing and trying his pick-up routine on her. Was she so unable to actually see normal anymore? As though he sensed her doubt, he smiled apologetically and offered, “Please, my name is Brad McBeck, and I own the bank—there jest across the street—and honestly, I am not trying to make the moves on ye … well, not completely, at any rate. I was in here shopping for m’sister when ye came in …” Okay, so he was a local. He was already in here, so—no reason to be suspicious. She was just super-sensitive because of everything that had been going on in her life these last few months. This was something that average girls dealt with on a regular basis. She was just over-reacting. She gave him a wide smile and moved over to a pretty blue top and held it up. “Your sister—does she have your coloring?” “Aye, she does.” “Then this should do … and if not, she can always exchange it.” Nikki smiled and moved off to take up another black top she had noticed, looked it over, and decided it was the one. She went with it to the saleswoman behind the counter. He followed her, blue top in hand, and said, “Ye know m’name … but I don’t know yers …?” Nikki laughed. “No, you don’t,” she said and relented. “Okay … I’m Nikki Walker.” “Well, then, Nikki Walker, I’ll jest get this wrapped, and then would ye do me the honor of having a bit of lunch with me?” “I don’t go off with strangers.” “But, I’m not a stranger … and Miss Sally here will vouch for me … won’t ye, Sal?” Sally was a matronly woman who had been watching the proceeding with less than a smile. She stared hard at Nikki and said, “Mr. McBeck is as he says—our local banker.” Well, thought Nikki, that wasn’t exactly glowing. She hesitated and then thought, what could it hurt? “Okay … but, we go Dutch … I like to pay my own way.” “Would that make you more comfortable then?” “It would.” “Well, then …” He turned and paid an unsmiling Miss Sally, who had placed the top in a pretty gift bag and handed it to him. He took it up and offered Nikki his arm. She laughed right out loud, for everything about him seemed ‘Old World’ and somehow off, but again, she told herself, she just wasn’t used to ‘normal’ anymore. *** It was nearly three when Nikki, happy to have spent a ‘normal’ day, walked in the door of the cottage and came face to face with a darkly handsome, tall, and muscular vampire who at that moment looked extremely displeased. Damon’s voice was on low throttle. “Enjoy yourself, slayer?” Nikki smiled sweetly and moved to walk past him, saying lightly, “As a matter of fact, I did, very much.” “Did you find the ride … smooth?” He had her upper arm in his large hand and kept her in place. She felt a guilty blush instantly take over her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. “Yes … I love the way your BMW handles.”

“I, however, distinctly remember telling you that you could use the Wrangler.” “So you did,” she returned a touch defiantly. “I have never driven a BMW and rarely have seen that particular model … I thought it would be fun.” He seemed to brush this aside, as though it didn’t matter, and questioned her further. “And shopping … did you enjoy the two or three stores in our little village?” “I did …” And before he could ask, she added, “Met someone you might know … he seemed to know you and was surprised I was staying out here.” “Brad McBeck,” Damon said softly, his eyes regarding her coldly. Nikki’s full attention snapped into high alert, and she regarded him suspiciously. “How could you know that?” “Did you find him a diversion? For I am certain he found you one.” “He was interesting, and it has been a long time since I just sat down and had a normal lunch with a normal person.” “And you find McBeck … normal?” “In relation to everyone else I have been dealing with …” she answered softly and pulled out of his hold and moved into the library. “Aren’t you up and about early? Don’t you sleep until dark—oh no … you like to go out in the rain and howl at the … but, wait … there was no moon.” “You think you know so much while you know so very little. You are all wrapped up in suppositions and do not see what is clearly right before your beautiful blue eyes!” Damon’s jaw line was set firmly, and his words were harshly delivered. She turned on him and frowned. “What is all this about anyway? Just because I took the BMW? It’s home safe and sound.” He was on her—towering over her, taking her shoulder possessively in his large hands—and she felt her entire body lean into him. “This is because you aren’t being careful, slayer, and if you are going to survive, you can’t go gadding about with strangers who tell you pretty lies.” “What do you mean? Brad—are you saying Brad lied to me? About what?” she demanded as she pulled a face at him. “He is just a banker.” “So he would have you believe.” She studied him for a minute before she asked really as a tease and nothing more, “Are you jealous?” “Jealous? Are you daft, Nikki, of a demon in sheep’s clothing? Is that what you think this is about?” “Demon—are you telling me …” “A harmless one as he enjoys his human lifestyle and doesn’t seem to need to kill— although how he became a part of the McBeck family is beyond me. I am going to guess that he was adopted.” Nikki was stuck on one thing. “He is a demon … and I didn’t know … Why didn’t I sense it?” “Because you are not using all your potential … and, slayer, you must,” he said on a low note that sounded strangled to her, as did his next words. “Did you hope he was human? Why—so that he might hold you for a time and make it all go away?” And the next thing she knew she was in Damon’s strong embrace, and as she felt herself melting against his solid frame, she also discovered herself leaning in to receive his kiss. Her lips parted under the pressure of his deft insistence, and she tasted his

delicious tongue as he took her to a place she hadn’t known existed, a place of sensation no kiss before his had ever taken her … His right hand moved from her shoulder and slid to her back, found her butt and pulled her in even tighter, and she felt herself shamelessly yield to his skill. And then as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. He almost pushed her away as he stepped back, hard and fast as though her touch scorched him. And then he turned on his heel and stomped off. “What the …? Where are you going?” she called after him. He didn’t answer her as he went to the front door and opened it wide. “Come on,” he said curtly. “Let’s go … this can no longer wait.” “Go … how can you go out? It’s still daylight … and the sun is out.” “Are you coming with me or not?” She picked up her tote bag and brushed by him, making sure she didn’t touch him as she went out the door he held open for her.

~ Eight ~ Nikki had not put down the convertible top of the BMW when she drove into town earlier. Damon eyed it and then her before he steered her towards the Maz, whose top was down. She wondered where he had gone in it. He was wearing dark glasses, and she supposed he needed them for protection against the daylight. However, he had not shielded his skin on the short, brisk walk to his garage. He wore his biker-styled leather jacket and looked damned sexy as his black hair blew about his handsome profile. She couldn’t look away, and her mind berated her for a fool, reminding her over and over that she was a slayer. When a few moments had gone by, and he hadn’t spoken a word or looked her way, Nikki began to feel invisible and sighed heavily. Another few moments went by, and she couldn’t take it any longer. She blurted out, “You walked right outside … without any protection—to the garage. How is it you can go out in the daylight so fully exposed?” “Not fully.” “Oh, you mean the dark glasses—not much protection.” “Enough … it is my eyes that are affected the most by sunlight.” “What about the rest of you?” “A tricky thing I learned how to handle over time.” “Tricky—meaning?” “Meaning, it is a skill I acquired. Some vamps you will discover can move about in daylight hours, but not if the sun is at its best. I am not one of them. I can move about in daylight—period.” “So you don’t need a gray sky …?” “It certainly helps—but, no, I can manage in the sunlight, although I don’t always try.” “The sun won’t fry you?” He chuckled and said with a quick glance her way, “It is sometimes uncomfortable— but, no, it won’t fry me.” “I don’t understand this. My mom told me that vamps burn in the sun—she actually saw it happen firsthand.” “I have told you several times now, slayer, I am not like other vamps.” “And also you can eat—how is that?” “It just is—that is all you have to know.” “Yes, but—” “Aren’t you curious as to where we are going?” Obviously he was trying to change the subject. Her mouth curved to one side, and her eyes were bright with a tease. “Yes, but I figured you wouldn’t tell me that. If I asked— you probably would say …” She lowered her voice and tried to do an impression of his low, English-accented growl. “You will find out soon enough, slayer.” He glanced at her, and his face first broke out into a smile. Then the chuckle that lit in

his throat turned into a wallop of laughter. Nikki beamed, pleased that she had made him laugh. He so rarely did. “And so you shall … slayer,” he returned, still carrying a smile. She settled back in her seat and watched the passing countryside. She only knew one thing—they were not headed for Dublin. They arrived at the small village of Bray, where Nikki got a glimpse of the Irish Sea and she spent a few moments ‘oohing and aahing’ over the view. However, even as she pointed out a lovely B & B and a few shops she might like to explore, he turned the Maz onto a narrow country road. Another sharper turn brought them to a long dirt road that led them past an expanse of woods on either side and dead ended at a sandy driveway. Nikki could see a small cottage that looked like something out of a Grimm’s fairytale partially hidden by the trees at the end of the driveway. There was something about the fairytale cottage that made her feel as though her vision were blurred. She frowned and tried to concentrate on what she was actually seeing. As Damon drove slowly towards the cottage more of it came into direct view. Ivy vines meandered up its cream-colored stucco walls and covered a great deal of the structure right up to its thatched roof. The vines with their green leaves were thick, but care had been given to their management, and they were trimmed around the windows and the arched, dark oak front door. “What is this? Where are we? What are we doing? Who lives here?” He laughed as he turned and reached to gently stroke her pert nose. “Easy, slayer … you will find out soon enough.” So saying, he chuckled again to himself as he parked the car along the edge of the driveway near the stone steps to the front entrance of the cottage. Keys in hand he stepped out of the Maz and came around to her door, opening it with a flourish that was, for him, almost jovial. He offered his hand, and one of his dark eyebrows went up as she hesitated. Nikki hesitated only because she was unused to such ‘old traditional treatment’. It had occurred to her that the ‘boys’ at home never did that, and she found that she liked it—a lot. Was that politically incorrect? Did she care? Nooo. She looked at his open hand and smiled. He was four hundred years old, and the Old World gentleman was a very intrinsic part of whom he had been, and who he still was— very much. She put her small hand in his and felt a spark shoot up her arm, as though he was the electric plug to her wires. He gently pulled her out of the car and waited as she stood on the hard dirt drive and adjusted her jeans and jacket. She had to brush past him to go forward and felt his hard and muscular body in the process. She almost closed her eyes with pleasure it made her feel. He lightly touched her back as he maneuvered her forward, and there was a moment when she never wanted him to take away his hand. What was wrong with her? Hormones on full alert—that’s what! She looked up at his profile, and he looked down at her. His black, liquid eyes held sparks of gold in their recesses, and those gold lights were alive with something that made her entire body tingle. Her lashes brushed her cheeks and then rose as she looked up again and felt a sharp sensation of need. A pulse made its way through her stomach on down to her thighs and up, and she felt herself inwardly clench.

His arm went around her as he held her to him, and he bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Are you ready, slayer? For you are about to have an experience like no other.” Damn straight, I’m ready, she thought, and shook herself free of the moment. Was he teasing her? Was he slowly seducing her? Was it so easy to resist kissing her? She had expected a kiss at that moment, and when none came she blushed and answered him roughly, “The answer to that is another question, vampire. What kind of experience?” He chuckled and pulled a lock of her silky hair before he let her go and walked towards the flagstone steps to the cottage. He turned because she had not followed, and he held out his hand. “Afraid it houses a witch like in the story of Hansel and Gretel?” That was it! The cottage looked like the one she remembered from that particular fairytale … and something more: her slayer senses had turned on her high-alert beam. Something inside that cottage wasn’t normal—not in any way! In fact, there was something abnormal about the entire structure. She saw it now in a haze of mist and fog that surrounded the place. It wasn’t what it seemed, and she knew magic was in play here, but was it white or black magic? She bucked herself up and went forward, and in that moment realized how much she had actually come to trust Damon … at least on a certain level. He took her arm and led her to the front door—and then everything she thought she saw, everything she thought she knew about magic—changed! *** Damon didn’t knock, didn’t call out a greeting, and yet the door opened wide. Nikki felt him take her hand tightly in his grip as he whispered, “There is nothing to worry about—just relax.” She looked up at him, and his smile though reassuring held something back. She realized that her breath had been stuck in her throat and that her entire body was tense with concern. Things were not right here … everything was off kilter. Black was white, and up was down … Nonsense, she told herself, steady now … They stepped inside, and immediately Nikki’s disorientation multiplied. As though off in the distance she heard the door at their backs close with a snap. She turned and watched with disbelief as the bolt moved into place … without the benefit of a human assistance … at least not in the usual way. Damon had dropped her fingers and now had his arm around her and his hand held her waist as he pressed her to him tightly. She did not sense any nervousness on his part, but then, she wouldn’t—would she? Damon never seemed discombobulated, but she … oh she couldn’t be actually visualizing what lay before her—could she? Ahead was definitely not the small floor plan that should have met her. From the outside, this was but a small cottage. However, the inside—the inside was totally not what she expected. Instead, the interior was spread out before her, wide, long, dark, and huge. The open room presented itself in castle style with stone walls, stone flooring, and a huge cathedral and wood-beamed ceiling throughout. The place was dimly lit with candles in chandeliers and candelabras everywhere. Some torches gave off additional light from sconces along the stone walls. There was a maze of artifacts and odd-looking tables, red velvet upholstered wooden chairs, benches, storage trunks of ancient styles and various sizes. In the midst of all this was an enormous black iron cauldron, sitting on a grate over an open

flame that came from a deep well in the middle of the room. At the far end of the long, cluttered chamber was an enormous fireplace that seemed to take up half a wall, and that wall seemed to go on into infinity. And if all that wasn’t enough to confound, in the midst of all this fantastic conglomeration stood a tall, lean man—no, not just a man but a man dressed in a Halloween costume that depicted a wizard! Nikki’s mouth dropped as she watched him unbend from the huge iron kettle whose girth was enough to hold two men. He gave the contents of the kettle a last stir with a long, black ladle and smiled broadly at them. Nikki couldn’t speak, and she wanted to, very much. She wanted to tug at Damon’s jacket and ask him what it was she had stepped into. Well, she knew what she had stepped into, so what she really wanted to know was why the hell they weren’t rushing out. Wizard had replaced the word ‘man’ almost as soon as Nikki’s brain had managed to accept what her eyes presented to her. She noted that this wizard wore a blue, pointed hat that sparkled with tiny, luminous stars throughout its structure over a head of long white hair. The same white, thick hair created eyebrows above sparkling blue eyes, framed in white lashes. A mustache and long beard of white covered most of his face, but the cheeks were rosy, and as he turned, a smile lit first in his iridescent blue eyes and then curved his lips. He started forward, his blue robes swishing around him as he approached. Nikki thought for a moment she had stumbled into a Harry Potter movie and couldn’t speak. Had she fallen and hit her head? Was she dreaming? She did in fact tug at Damon’s jacket and whisper his name. “Er … Damon … Damon …” It was all her mouth could form. He frowned at her. “Hush and wait.” The man in the wizard’s costume came at them hands outstretched, and all at once it was obvious to Nikki that he not only knew Damon but was fond of him as well. “My boy, finally you have come to visit an old man?” Damon laughed and took the tall, elderly man’s hand in his and gave him a hearty shake. “Now, Rysdale, you know I was here just a few months ago.” The wizard patted Damon on the back and said softly, “It seems an eternity …” He turned to Nikki. “Now, who is this?” “I would think you would know,” said Damon The wizard laughed and said, “I do, and I still want a formal introduction. It isn’t every day that I get to meet a slayer and one of this child’s caliber.” “Well then, Rysdale, old friend, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to Nikki Walker.” The wizard took her timidly outstretched hand and bent over it before he engulfed and folded it within the crook of his arm. “Finally—I have been waiting for you for weeks.” “Have you?” was all Nikki could think to reply. He chuckled. “Indeed, indeed …” He turned to Damon. “You haven’t told her a thing about me, have you? The poor child is totally bewildered, and isn’t that just like you!” Damon smiled, and Nikki thought there was just the hint of a sheepish look in his black pearl eyes. “No, I thought it best for her to meet, observe, and learn for herself.” He shrugged. “She wouldn’t have believed me if I told her. I thought it better to show her.” Rysdale’s blue eyes twinkled at Damon. “Perhaps you are right.” He turned back to

Nikki and said softly, “We shall discuss all of this over tea … and sweet cakes. Yes, we must have sweet cakes—with icing …” He turned and called out, “Did you hear that, Charm, my love?” “I did …” said a soft woman’s voice as she came forward from, Nikki thought, nowhere in particular. She simply just appeared, and Nikki found herself looking at a woman of uncertain age, whose curls of white were piled in designed order on her wellshaped head. The older woman’s eyes were dark and—Nikki almost choked to see that they were also a dark shade of amber. Her slayer senses came alive, and she knew, and still she told herself she must be mistaken. No—she couldn’t be … no, it was impossible … not a vampire—not this sweet, plump, grandmotherly woman with the soft smile—a bloodsucking vampire? Charm saw the expression on Nikki’s face and turned to the wizard to remark, “Ah, she is a clever girl. In spite of all these years—and all your magic, she still saw it in me.” “She will be a slayer extraordinaire one day,” the wizard replied as though Nikki weren’t standing right there with her hand still in the crook of his arm. He patted her hand and released her. “Do … have a seat … Charm will bring us the tea, and join us, won’t you, my dear?” “Of course—this young slayer … intrigues me.” On this note, the older woman turned and seemed to vanish. Nikki sucked in air and then let it out. “She is a vampire … but, somehow … not?” “It is a very long story and only hers to tell,” Rysdale said with an apologetic smile. He took up a seat on a high, hard-backed wooden chair and pyramided his hands. Damon gently guided Nikki to sit beside him on a brocade upholstered high-backed bench. He put a finger to her lips as she was about to open them to ask more questions, and he shook his head to whisper, “Be patient, slayer.” She looked at him but decided that perhaps he was right and she should hold her tongue for just a moment or so. Rysdale’s features moved into a grim expression, which surprised Nikki as she had already decided his face was trapped in a perpetual smile. Quietly he said as he turned his attention fully to Damon, “And so it comes in force.” “Apparently a bit faster than we had earlier supposed.” “Sadly, it will be bloody …” The wizard’s fingers tapped each other as he sank into thought. “I believe as always that you are correct.” “We can perhaps … mitigate the impact, but she will need to call on all her powers to stay alive. She is a slayer … but she is not immortal.” “Is there no way …?” “Yes, but not at the moment—you cannot ask such a thing from the heart. The request must come from logic and facts, or she will dismiss the possibilities.” “Hold on just a minute …” Nikki interrupted. “If you are speaking about me, a little more information would be nice, as I don’t understand what you are saying.” “In due time, child.” Rysdale’s soft smile was back, and then he leaned across and touched Nikki’s forehead with the palm of his hand. She immediately went still, an unlikely position for Nikki, but the power that surged through her and the shock that coursed through her mind created the moment. She could feel the wizard in the slayer part of her brain as he whispered arcane Gaelic, and then he

took his hand away and the spell was broken. “Now, wait just a minute … I won’t be handled like that … and no one is allowed in my head but me!” Rysdale inclined his head. “I can see how you would feel that way, but, child, your brain is filled with a host of powers, and each is locked away in a compartment inside your slayer mind. Ordinarily it would take months, perhaps even a year to dispense with the locked door and cultivate your hidden abilities. We do not have months. It must be done in a matter of days, and I had to see if you will be strong enough to withstand such an all-encompassing process as the one I have planned.” He shook his head sadly. “Had your dear mother lived, she would have unlocked those powers for you, and the two of you together would have been formidable.” He sighed heavily. “That was not meant to be, and so, I am going to ask you to stay with me and allow me to work with you. It will take more than training—it will take magic, my magic, to release your gifts and provide your human body with the ability to use them.” “Stay with you … here …?” Nikki immediately recoiled from the idea. Would she be separated from Damon? And why should she care? Would her new abilities allow her the power to kill Deadly Moon? “I am staying here as well,” Damon said softly but in a tone that would not allow any argument from anyone. Nikki shot him a look of relief and saw surprise twinkle in his dark eyes. He hadn’t expected her to want him to stay. “Well, of course you are,” Rysdale said at once. “You are always welcome here, and it will be pleasant for the slayer to have a friend while she trains.” Rysdale smiled broadly. “I have a name, sir,” Nikki offered hopefully. “So you do, child, so you do.” Rysdale’s smile was fatherly and comforting. “But for now, we will call you slayer, and in the end you will understand why.” *** Nikki downed a chocolate-iced petit four, took a sip of her tea, and reached for another. This was all moving too quickly. The grandmotherly woman named Charm was the sweetest, most endearing person … and yet, there was no doubt in Nikki’s mind that she had been in her time (might be still) an accomplished killer! Charm bent and reached for a large plate of daintily styled sandwiches and offered them to Nikki. “You will need your strength for what Rysdale has planned for you this very evening. Eat …” Nikki smiled at her and took two sandwich halves onto her plate. She had decided to do more listening than talking, and she could hear Damon and Rysdale speaking in low tones to one another. They were talking about WB; apparently Rysdale had information about some coup that WB had accomplished in Shannon. That didn’t sound good. “Don’t worry, dear …” Charm said as she leaned in closer. “You couldn’t be in better hands.” “I didn’t come to Ireland for this,” Nikki said before she could stop herself. “No, you didn’t, but some of the time, we have things dropped in our laps and before we can get on with our lives, we must attend to those things.” Charm sighed. “Is that what happened to you?” Nikki knew she was being bold, but she was so damn curious about Charm. “Precisely,” Charm said softly and patted Nikki’s hand. “We make the best of what we

are given because we must.” Nikki took a sip of her tea. It felt warm and soothing and amazingly more delicious than any tea she had ever had in her life. She looked at the brew and then at Charm. “This is great.” “Yes, it is a special blend I perfected years ago for Rysdale …” Charm smiled sweetly, and Nikki realized that Rysdale and Charm were a couple. She watched with interest as Rysdale popped his sixth cake into his mouth, reached over, and patted Charm’s arm to twinkle at her. “Wonderful cakes, my love—your best ever.” Charm released a short soft laugh and said, “You always say that.” “Ah, you see, I am, as ever consistent.” He turned to Nikki and sighed before he spoke in a slow and careful tone. “I am going to ask you to trust me implicitly. We cannot accomplish our task without you giving yourself over to the things I ask of you—and to do that, slayer … you will have to walk in blind.” Nikki considered the wizard with a sudden dawning that surprised her—she trusted him. How could she trust him? He was obviously close to Damon—a vampire of, at the very least, ‘unusual’ abilities and immense power. And if that wasn’t enough, his companion, Charm, was a vampire … of sorts—and yet, she trusted him. That in itself astonished her, because she just didn’t trust anyone after her brother had been killed … and even before, she realized, even before that, she had never been one to give her trust easily. She had always to be on guard and hide what she was—a slayer. It was mind boggling and enlightening all in the same moment. She also discovered that in the short time she had been with the wizard and Charm, she had already grown attached—perhaps, even too attached. That was so unlike her. She’d rarely made quick friendships in the past. The trust issue. All at once she knew she would do as Rysdale asked. “Okay … I’ll try.” “No, child … you have to do more than try. You have to do it because you can.” The wizard stood suddenly and stretched out his arms as he closed his eyes and spoke softly in a voice that was both authoritative and oddly sweet. Then as though he had turned off the main switch, all the candles were snuffed and the torches put out. A room that was only dim to begin with was encased in darkness, and he said, “Slayer—find the light.” Find the light? she repeated in her brain. He wants me to find the light. How the frig am I supposed to do that? She frowned and offered, “I am not sure—” “FIND THE LIGHT!” he commanded, cutting her off. Nikki didn’t argue. She wasn’t sure how she could do what he wanted, as she had never even tried anything like this before. She closed her eyes and blanked out everything but the entrance to her slayer compartment in her brain, where she discovered a door she had never noticed before. She opened the door and stared at a simple lever. It seemed to pulse and vibrate with life, and she knew at once she had to pull down the lever. Apparently, the magic she controlled in her brain had put everything into switches and buttons … fine. She pulled on that lever and opened her eyes. Not only had all the candles and torches been relit, but she was now the object of three pair of eyes. Rysdale was the first to speak as he went forward, arms outstretched for her, and she was surprised that she proudly allowed him to hug her. “My child … you will be a very quick study.” He turned to Damon. “It is as I

predicted, and she is exceptional.” Damon’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was a low sound of irritation. “Parlor tricks, Rysdale. She will need a great deal more than that if she is to stay alive, and she must stay alive.” Nikki eyed him with a little smirk. “Yay, I’m for that—staying alive sounds good to me.” “Patience, dear Damon, was never your strong suit,” the wizard said with a chuckle. Damon leaned back in his chair and said nothing to this. He folded his hands into one another and put them to his lips as though to stem the retort. Nikki wanted to stick her tongue out at him for putting a damper on the fact that she had just accomplished something super-cool. She settled for putting up her chin and noticed that his black, liquid eyes had taken on a bright, twinkling light of appreciation. This didn’t annoy her but instead made her feel warm inside, deep inside, and she quickly shoved such a feeling away. “Charm, would you be so kind as to take Damon to the weapons room and show him the new artifact we acquired last week. It will interest him greatly.” “Yes, dear, my pleasure.” “And tell him about Count’s latest escapade, because Damon’s friends should be apprised of that situation immediately.” “Of course, Rysdale,” Charm said. She smiled as she got up and put out a hand to Damon. Damon was on his feet immediately, taking her hand and linking it through his arm. “Finally, I shall have you to myself,” he said as he led her away. Nikki watched them go and turned to the wizard to ask quizzically, “A weapons room? How large is this place?” “Ah, it is quite deceiving on the outside, isn’t it?” “Ah … yeah …” Nikki smiled and shook her head. “That is because the door to our home is really a portal, Nikki.” “A portal … like to another world?” “In a manner of speaking, but not quite. The cottage door is a portal only to our true home. If we were to go outside, it would be in your world … not the one we left behind.” “Whoa …” Nikki breathed. He chuckled and said, “Precisely, but we have something we need to accomplish before you retire for the evening.” “Retire—yes, but I have a bit of a problem, you see, here is the thing …” “There is no thing. You will be staying with us. You must. You really do not have a choice in the matter. Your safety is our great concern. There is no problem—I thought you understood that?” “But I didn’t bring any of my things.” “Ah …” Rysdale breathed a sigh of relief. “Women and their things. Very well. They will be in your room before you retire for the evening.” “How?” “It doesn’t matter how, slayer. I will arrange it.” She smiled to herself. His mannerisms were most endearing, and she said, “Yes, and, Damon … won’t he need his things as well?” The wizard smiled and patted her hand, dropped a quick kiss on her fingers, and

released her. “Damon will have his things here when he returns.” “Returns? Where is he going?” Nikki sounded anxious even to herself. “He has to leave—doesn’t have a choice, and he would want you out of harm’s way while he is gone, and so you shall be staying with us.” “But when did that happen? Did he know he was leaving?” She’d distinctly heard him say that he was staying with her. Nikki wasn’t afraid, but she found herself tremendously disappointed. “He didn’t know—Charm took him into the kitchen to inform him of the latest developments, and knowing Damon … he will leave immediately.” “But he wants me to stay here … not go with him?” “For your protection, it is the only wise course. You know, slayer, you are one of our biggest assets for the immediate future of the human race. You do realize that, don’t you, child?” “No … I came to Ireland to find and kill my brother’s murderer … not fight in a war, but of course, I will help.” “Of course you will.” He had her hand again and once more patted it. “The next thing you must learn is how to shield yourself should you meet the deadliest vampire in existence?” “Deadly Moon?” The wizard’s face expressed shock. “Why no … why would you think that?” “Well, her name for one thing.” He ignored this and said grimly, “I was speaking of Dracula.” “You mean he is still around?” Nikki said as she realized that was who Rysdale had meant when he spoke of the ‘count’s escapades’. “Oh yes. Although he is a recluse, something has caught his interest and he may enter the fray. One never knows with the count just what he will do. His temper is quixotic and his sentiments regarding humans almost nil … and yet …” He shook his head. “Well, never mind that now. What you need is to be able to construct a shield to allow you to disguise your very unique slayer scent and escape should you encounter him. Do not, ever, try to engage him, as you will lose! He did not survive time and countless slayers without skills that even you, with the powers you possess, can possibly hope to defeat. Do you understand me?” “No argument there, sir. As I said, my main purpose is to find and destroy my brother’s murderer. If you guys need help defeating this WB, I’m in … but I won’t be needlessly exposing myself to the good ol’ count if I don’t have to.” He eyed her, smiled, and said more to himself than to her, “If only that were true, slayer, but I fear you are courageous to a fault. However, never mind that now, for we must begin.”

~ Nine ~ “You like the little slayer,” Charm said with a simple question in her eyes. Damon laughed, for he rather thought Charm had already made up her mind on the subject and had asked simply to inveigle more information. “Fishing, are we, my lady?” “You and I do not stand on ceremony. The name Rysdale gave me all those years ago, still stands—and even so, I object to the term of ‘fishing’.” Her dark eyes glinted with amusement. Damon made a show of inclining his head. “And still, to me, you will always be my lady.” She smiled sweetly. “And to the rest?” “What rest is that, my lady?” “You know very well. Answer my question, love.” “Did you ask one?” She rapped his arm. “Fine, then tell me … why she does she want to kill Deadly Moon?” “She believes Moon killed her brother.” Charm raised her delicate white brows. “And did she?” “I don’t think so—I have been trying to find Moon, but she has not answered the many calls I put to her.” “That seems odd … you and Moon being as close as you are.” “She told me she might not be able to interact with me while she conducts … her project.” “And what project would that be?” He raised his brow. “Did Rysdale not tell you?” “He mentioned something about this alpha vampire, WB, causing trouble.” “It is more than that, and the problem is that WB has even enlisted humans to aid him in the cause.” “Ah, and you think that the slayer’s brother was one of those recruits and Moon killed him?” “I only know that she would not kill an innocent—it has never been her way, not even to protect herself.” “Do you think a brother of that one”—Charm inclined her head back where they had come—“could have possibly aided vampires?” “I only know I can’t believe that Moon killed him for nothing.” Damon shook his head, and his black eyes were dark with uncertainty. “I simply cannot believe it, but these are not usual times and things are not always what they seem.” “Indeed, which brings us back to this young Slayer. She is untried …” Charm looked into Damon’s eyes. “… in many ways. She needs Rysdale’s guidance. It is well that you brought her here.”

They had arrived at a set of heavy oak doors, adorned throughout with black iron hinges and decorative pieces. She flicked her wrist, and the doors opened wide to display another enormous chamber. They went inside, and she led him to a table where a short and shiny sword reposed. Its hilt was thickly engraved with gold, and for some reason Damon thought he had seen the sword before. “Pick it up,” Charm said softly. And when he did, a crooked bolt of lightning shot through the sword upwards to the ceiling. He turned and looked at her incredulously, and she smiled. “It is as we thought, and, Damon, you must keep it close, even when you travel to Scotland to inform your friends of the new developments with Dracula.” “What new developments?” “Ah … sit, and we will talk.” *** It had been a long day, and after a lively and entertaining dinner with both Rysdale and Charm, Nikki felt her shoulders droop. She was tired, and something else she couldn’t name was nagging at her. Damon had left with only a quick good-bye and not even a hint of where he was going. For all she knew he was off to play with the pretty little Gothic vampire he had said he had ‘hoped to find’ at Club Merlot the other night. The notion irritated her. His face seemed to occupy her thoughts. His voice tickled her ears. His black eyes so full of— She stopped herself, cleared her throat, and interrupted the conversation Rysdale was so merrily having with Charm and herself to ask, “When do you think Damon will return?” Charm and Rysdale exchanged a glance that would have been imperceptible had Nikki been less observant. She felt her cheeks go hot as she waited for an answer. Charm smiled in her own way and said casually, “Oh … not for a few days yet.” “Oh,” Nikki said on a hushed note and immediately felt blue, ready to climb into a bed and pull a warm quilt over her confused head. “You look exhausted, dear. No doubt you would like to go up to your quarters, where you can have a nice long, hot bath and slip beneath the covers?” “Oh … yes, that sounds lovely.” “Come along, I’ll show you the way.” Charm touched the wizard’s shoulder as she turned to lead Nikki with a candle. Impulsively, Nikki turned, walked back to Rysdale, and dropped a kiss on his ruddy cheek. “Thank you for everything you taught me … I … I …” He looked only mildly surprised and very well pleased as he patted her hand and said, “Yes, child … go on now, because tomorrow we have a very big day.” She followed Charm, who held a glass-enclosed candle and led her up a winding set of stone stairs that hugged a circular stone wall. “Wow!” Nikki breathed out loud. “This is a castle, isn’t it?” “Yes, dear,” Charm answered in her mysterious fashion. They reached the landing, which opened onto a wide long hallway, but Charm took her to the very first intricately carved oak door and opened it wide. “I had your room filled with flowers, chocolate, and wine … and a few books.” Nikki was in awe as she entered the room and found a four-poster hung with a canopy

of gold brocade. A table held wine, cookies, chocolates, fruit, and a selection of books. A quick survey showed her one entire wall made up of shelves and shelves of books. Charm led her to another door that she opened to display a thoroughly modern bathroom. “I think you will find everything you need here is up to date.” Nikki’s mouth was open, and she turned to the woman and hugged her. “Thank you for making me so welcome.” “Tsk, tsk, child … here sit and tell me, how did you … and our dear Damon meet?” “I’m not sure. I think he must have somehow heard that I was looking for his … friend, Deadly Moon. He wanted to warn me off, you see.” Nikki bit her bottom lip and said as she eyed the dark Oriental rug at her feet, “He doesn’t think she killed my brother, but I think he must be in love with her … and blind to the things she must do.” “Why would you think such a thing?” Charm seemed surprised. Nikki shrugged. “He is fierce about protecting her.” “Ah, I see. You know, child, things are not always what they appear to be.” Nikki plopped into a chair and said, “Would it be presumptuous of me to ask, Lady Charm … how … I mean …” “How I control the vampire in me?” “Yes … and as to Damon too … I have never seen him turn hungry for blood, and he eats … food … and other things that are not vampiry.” “Vampiry?” Charm laughed. Nikki pulled a rueful smile. “Will you explain it to me?” “I cannot tell you Damon’s story—only he can tell you about himself—but perhaps I can tell you a little bit about myself.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and Nikki took her chair and pulled it up close to her. “It was a very long, long time ago. I worked as a nanny for a feudal lord and his wife. One evening during one of his parties … you see, it is true that a vampire cannot enter without some kind of invitation, but the vampire that arrived to attend my lord’s event had been invited. That vampire had a taste for children …” She looked away as the memory of her encounter brought back all the sorrow. “I heard something … and went to check on the children … He had already killed the youngest and had the other two in his grip. I screamed for help and pulled the chain to sound the alarm. He came at me, and I broke a chair against the wall and held the broken leg towards him. I managed to stab him, but he lashed out and cut open my throat.” Charm paused and then continued. “His blood … had splattered over me … you see … over his hands, and some, only a little, entered my mortal wound.” Nikki jumped to hug her close, and Charm patted her back. “Here is the wonder of the story—Rysdale was amongst the guests there that evening and amongst the first to arrive on the scene. I still remember his beloved face as he bent towards me and whispered words only for my ears. He picked me up while the family attended to their remaining children and the poor mother sobbed over her poor, dead baby.” She smiled as she recalled Rysdale’s words. “Ry took me to an empty room and produced his herbs, and then with his magic, and his wizard’s blood, he healed me. You see, I didn’t die and wake up a vampire, but I do have the vampire DNA floating about in my blood … dormant. He left the family word that he was taking me to his doctor and carried me to his carriage and his home. We have been together ever since.” “Oh Charm … oh my goodness.” Nikki hugged her again and then sat back to ask,

“What happened to the vamp?” “He wasn’t a new vampire, but he wasn’t old enough to disintegrate. The locals knew what he was and what they had to do. They took him outside and lit him on fire until he was nothing but ash.” Nikki digested this as Charm got to her feet and touched her cheek. “Now forget all the horror and think only that you are here safe with us and go to sleep, child.” “I … thank you, Charm … for telling me …” “Yes, child, you needed to know. It will help you to understand what lies ahead.” *** Nikki slept like a baby without a care. She had thought when she first crawled under the covers that in spite of all the comforts provided—she had eaten or tasted nearly everything on her tray—she could have a difficult time getting to sleep. Not so—she vaguely remembered flicking her wrist to distinguish the candle lights and, pleased with her newfound ‘parlor trick’ as Damon dubbed it, fell right off into a sweet sleep. Ready now to face a new day, she stepped out into the hall and made her way to the circular stone steps. Sunlight gleamed through the various round windows along the staircase, and Nikki was anxious to get started. When she reached the landing, she noticed that one of the panoramic windows displayed the wooded driveway she and Damon had driven up to the cottage yesterday, Damon’s sleek Maz still situated where they had left it. She frowned to herself. Could he be back already? The car was parked in exactly the same place …? She made her way to the main chamber, where she found Rysdale, dressed in navy silk robes that glittered with iridescent stars and a matching wizard’s hat, coming towards her. His smile was bright and warm. The welcome was obviously sincere as he reached out for her hands. “Good morning, slayer, good morning. Did you sleep well?” “Yes, exceptionally well.” Nikki found her hands clasped with feeling; before she knew what she was doing, she was dropping a kiss on each of his cheeks. “Darling child … come, Charm has whipped up a magnificent breakfast.” “Has Damon returned?” “Damon?” Rysdale frowned. “Why no, child … I thought you realized, he will be gone for any number of days.” “Oh … it is just that I saw the Maz …” “Oh … that. He didn’t need that. I provided him with er … transportation.” She saw something mischievous in Rysdale’s eyes and wondered at it, but Charm had appeared with a huge tray in her hands and set it on the kitchen’s farm-style table. “Nikki, good morning, dear … come, sit—coffee waits.” Charm was beaming as she flitted about. Nikki did just that. They had a wonderful meal and lively banter, but at some point Rysdale whisked her away and she found herself once again training with the wizard. Charm stayed with them this time and interjected with helpful suggestions as Rysdale taught Nikki more and more about unlocking her slayer powers. It was well past noon when Rysdale stopped suddenly, as though something else entirely had gotten his attention. He turned, took up what Nikki saw at once was an ornate wand, very much (she thought) like Harry Potter’s, and hurried off for chambers unknown. She turned quizzically to Charm and said, “What happened?”

“Break time … Come along, you need to go outside and get some fresh air. The back gardens are lovely at this time of year … and, dear, try not to go too deeply into the woods. You can have a long, wonderful walk in the gardens, without bothering to enter the dark forest.” Charm handed Nikki her black leather jacket, which had appeared out of nowhere in the woman’s hands. Nikki bent and kissed her on her plump cheek. “Okay … I’ll stick to the gardens, stay out of the woods … sounds like something out of—” “Yes, dear.” Charm cut her off. “… because it is,” she offered and opened the door wide, allowing a long stream of sunlight to filter into the dimly lit open chamber. Nikki started off, and then she stopped to turn and smile at her and say, “You and I have a date, remember,” she reminded Charm with an inclination of her head. She wanted to know how it was Charm was a vampire without any of the accompanying signs. “Yes, dear,” Charm repeated with a sweet smile. “And please, child … should you sense anything … shall we say, off … reach for the cottage with your slayer’s mind, and it will immediately pull you within.” Nikki shook her head. “Not sure how that works, but okay.” Everything here at Rysdale’s castle was magical; absolutely nothing should surprise her. Charm smiled softly. “Oh yes, it has already bonded with you.” Nikki laughed and waved before heading out and throwing over her shoulder, “Good thing, cuz I love this place.” The sunlight met her blue eyes, and she drank it in and sighed. She needed some fresh air and a walk in the gardens. The gardens seemed to stretch on endlessly. Magic again. Flowers and fruit trees were everywhere, and Nikki lost herself in the beauty of the landscaping before she realized she had been out more than an hour. She turned to return to the castle when a dirt path caught her interest. From what she could see it seemed to run parallel to the gardens. Hmmm, she thought, a little shade would be nice for a bit, she told herself as she stepped onto the path, and there stopped short as she startled a lovely fawn and its mother who had both been lying on a bed of ferns. They scrambled to their feet and stood frozen and staring at her for a moment. She didn’t breathe, she didn’t move, but the doe decided to take her fawn and fly over bush and fallen trees into the dark forest. Nikki smiled to herself as she started back along the dirt path, thinking she was safe enough as it ran along the garden’s edge and was only an arm’s length away. A mewling sound caught her attention, and she stopped to listen. Again, a soft, baby, mewling, whimpering sound. She stretched and bent to search the thick green ferns and foliage that covered the earth along the path, and the mewling got louder. It moved, and Nikki realized it was a kitten! White and fluffy with large green eyes, it opened its mouth and mewled again. “Aww, are you here all alone…?” She bent and reached for the kitten, but it took a few short leaps into the ferns. Nikki followed it, talking softly all the while. “Come on, kitty … come on, pretty … come and say hello …” It stopped and stared at her and let out a small wail of a sound. Nikki approached and saw that its mother and three of its siblings were nearby, but the horror that met her eyes made her gasp.

Mother and siblings had been slaughtered and obviously left half-eaten. A shocked sob escaped and followed her gasp as she scooped up the only survivor and backed away, cooing softly to it all the while. She scanned the woods because of the scent she had encountered. Her slayer senses were on high alert telling her that something out of the ordinary had taken place. Could some wild animal have created the awful scene she had encountered? She didn’t believe it. A dog—no, oh no … a dog could not have done this … and there was that horrible odor … Even as the question presented the possibilities, Nikki knew that it wasn’t an animal, at least none of the usual persuasion, and she went totally still, as she stuffed the kitten inside her jacket and partially zipped up. Kitty went quiet and seemed to be content to take comfort beside Nikki’s beating heart. She wasn’t in what she would call the ‘deep woods’, but something was wrong, and something, as Charm had suggested, felt off. Slowly, she turned on her sneakered heel and started back the way she had come, when out of the corner of her eye she saw it. An obscure form slipped through the maze of trees. It was dark and wiry and … wrong—so wrong that she could not at first explain it in her head. She took another step back towards the garden, keeping her senses tuned in to ‘slayer high alert’. She hadn’t brought her weapon—any weapon. All she had was her hands. But then a voice intruded in her brain, Rysdale’s voice, and he was whispering, “Gently now, you have a weapon, slayer … you are a weapon.” “Okay …” Nikki answered him, wondering how he knew she was in trouble. She was looking over her shoulder as she hurried back towards the house, and she heard it crashing through the brush between the trees, coming at amazing speed right at her! No time to run, she thought as she whirled round and saw a grotesque creature of uncertain proportions and appendages, some of which were raised, claws out as though shaking fists, but what was even more frightening were the rows and rows of gnashing, pointed teeth in its grotesque head! Oh yeah, something ‘off’. *** Speed! Slayer speed was hers, and bam—she shifted into high gear. A moment later the monster with the gnashing teeth was well at her back and she was nearly out of the woods. Charm appeared and rushed across the grass, arms outstretched. Rysdale was close behind her. Nikki went straight into Charm’s embrace and allowed herself to be hugged, cooed to, and patted. Kitty mewled, and a shaky laugh escaped Nikki as she pulled away and said, “Oh … we’re crushing Kitty.” “Kitty? Ooh … is there only one left?” Nikki eyed her sadly and nodded. She just realized that the mother cat might have belonged to Charm. How odd was that? A vampire owning a cat—she really had walked into a world that was upside down. “Oh … oh no …” Charm sobbed all at once and turned to Rysdale. She buried her head in the wizard’s chest of silk. “It has killed Mama Cat and her other kittens … oh no, Ry … oh no … no …”

He stroked and patted at her and hushed her tears while Nikki looked on and silently joined her in grief. If Charm was a vampire, it had to be a truly dormant thing. She was crying. That in itself was something she had never thought possible for a vampire. Also, she cared for a cat … vampires couldn’t have pets—they ate them! At some point, Charm sniffed and produced a tissue. She attended to her wet eyes and face before she turned to Nikki and asked, “Are we certain that they are … all gone? Did you … see …?” Nikki put an arm around the older woman and nodded. What Charm needed was this kitten to ease the pain. She pulled out the lone survivor. “It didn’t get this spunky one though.” Much to Nikki’s amazement Charm took the kitten and snuggled it. “And it never will. I shall spell it so that it can’t go into those awful woods.” She turned to the wizard, and her voice was low and full with trepidation. “Ry … it is coming closer to the edge …” “Yes, dear … we always knew that it would.” “I should have done something to stop Mama Cat from going back into the woods.” “She was wild—she liked to go on the hunt. You allowed her to live her life,” he answered softly. “Well … Kitty here shall not go into the woods. Until we are rid of that thing … Kitty shall live the life I give her.” “Okay, now, please one of you tell me, just what was that thing?” Nikki needed explanations, and she needed them right then and there. “Did you actually get a glimpse of it, slayer?” the wizard asked quietly. “I got more than a glimpse, and let me tell you, it looked like something out of a Bgrade horror movie. If it hadn’t been for the teeth, I would have thought someone was playing a joke.” “It is no joke.” “Meaning …?” Rysdale signaled to Charm. “Take the child and the kitten and go inside, my dear. I have to remain here for a bit.” “No, Rysdale. I won’t have it. You cannot take that thing on … we don’t know—” He cut her off. “I have no intention of taking it on as you suggest. I merely wish to ward the perimeter against it. It made its first mistake. It killed your little stray mama cat. This kitten has rubbed against its poor dead mother and picked up its scent. I have been trying to get its scent now for weeks. Now I have it, and it gives me the edge.” “Ah … yes, brilliant,” Charm agreed and turned to Nikki. “Come along then.” “Will someone please tell me …” “So I shall, once we are safely within. Some of Rysdale’s warding spells have a nasty habit of ricocheting. I will tell you what you need to know once we are inside and we get Kitty fed.” Nikki watched as Charm took her time to set up a habitat for the kitten, put together some concoction of milk, and put it in a platter for the kitty, who sniffed it but seemed unable to lap it. Charm frowned and said as she prepared a litter box of sorts, “I suppose I shall have to come up with a feeding bottle for her, but she seems content now to rest, so I will sit and explain matters to you, my child.” As Charm finally sat at the kitchen table with her, Nikki demanded, “Yes, Charm, matters need explaining—so please tell me just what the heck are we dealing with?”

Charm sighed heavily. She took up a napkin and started folding and unfolding it as she seemed to be collecting her thoughts to present to Nikki. Nikki watched under a growing frown and tried to be patient, but finally she put up her hands and let out a small whine. “Charm …?” “You have to understand, believe that my Rysdale is a magnificent wizard. You must not think he makes mistakes of this proportion very often, and in fact, I can’t remember a time when he made a mistake of this size. He did make rather a large one about six hundred years ago … but—” “Charm!” “Yes, but it is important that you understand that, child.” “I do—now tell me what is going on, please.” “Yes, so I shall, in my way.” Nikki cleared her throat and marveled to herself how beautiful immortality was on both Charm and Rysdale. She wondered how a couple could survive centuries together when so many people in her time split after only a few years together. “Just exactly how old is Rysdale?” “Why, much older than I. He often teases me that he has wed a child. However, as I was saying, he does not make mistakes … often. Two weeks ago, we received a visitor … an unwanted visitor. You will hear his name spoken of from time to time. It is Baudali, another wizard, but one that gave himself over to the dark side almost at the start. He has always been competitive with Rysdale, but when Baudali couldn’t best him about … six hundred years ago, he dove even deeper into the dark arts, and he proudly calls himself a black sorcerer.” Charm got up from the table, moved over to the stove, and poured the hot water into the teapot. She brought it over to the table that was already set with goodies, plates, and teacups. She poured a cup for Nikki and herself and sat once more. Nikki impatiently urged, “Go on … go on.” “Baudali still could not best Rysdale in the Wizardry Tournament held once every five hundred years, and so he came here with the intention of killing Ry before the next tournament.” “Every five hundred years? Wizardry Tournament—just where does Rysdale come from? Where do they hold these tournaments? And just where does Rysdale come from originally? I know he isn’t from here … I can feel that.” Charm smiled and patted Nikki’s hand. “Take a sip of your tea … and, yes, Rysdale is from another dimension, which was destroyed in an awful war of the Wizards for domination … good against evil sort of thing. Very few wizards were left alive. Rysdale came here to ours, where he made a private world for himself in this castle … this castle which came with him, you see. Some centuries later he found me … and we have been together ever since.” She smiled softly, and her eyes got a faraway look in them. “This is incredible. You said he enters tournaments … where does he do that if their world was destroyed?” “Why, in another dimension, dear … the wizards that survived have attempted to keep up the tradition. They have tried to contain some of the wickedness of the black sorcerers by showing them through these tournaments that ‘good’ will always win out in the end.” “And does it? Win out in the end—always?” “What does your heart say?”

Nikki smiled. “Hmmm, it says that it must.” “Well, then, there you are, and here we are troubled with vampires and werewolves and shape shifters roaming the world undetected by humans.” Charm sighed. “It will be up to us, you see, to help …” Nikki considered this and threw up her hands. “Right … okay—we have to handle the situation. I get that. But let’s get back to Baudali—back to Baudali who lived through the Wizard War. Why mention him if a whole group of them lived through it?” “Ah, yes, but the others … never achieved the power Baudali amassed, and he lived through it because Rysdale saved him. He was, however, not permitted to enter our home—not one foot. I am afraid, once more they—Baudali and Rysdale—were in competition, and this time it was for me.” Charm lowered her head. “He tried to take me by force but could not get the better of Ry … so you see … bad blood.” “How awful … and after Rysdale saved his life!” “Yes, and he has never given up. Sometimes we don’t hear from him for centuries and then he shows up out of nowhere … like two weeks ago when he made another attempt at grabbing me by force, and Ry responded wildly because he became enraged and he opened a portal to another dimension without the usual precautionary measures. He caught Baudali unaware and pushed him through its opening, but—this is what he did not prepare for—in sending Baudali into the other dimension—something from that dimension came out …” “That thing?” “Yes, that thing.” “And we don’t know what it is or how to kill it?” “Precisely, although Ry has been working on that constantly. It seemed as though the light pained it, and until today, it seemed unable to leave the darkest part of the forest. I can only assume that it has acclimated to our daylight … and if it can do that …?” “Won’t the wards keep it out?” “Now that Rysdale has its scent, he can ward specifically against the creature, but we just don’t have enough information about the awful thing.” “Perhaps Damon will be able to do something when he returns?” “Damon has his hands full. You see, Dracula is on the move—and with a specific intent. Damon must keep the count from locating our dear Elizabeth and her son, John MacFare.” “Who is Elizabeth—Dracula’s lover?” “Oh no, child, she is his mother.”

~ Ten ~ RYSDALE ENTERED THE kitchen, and Nikki saw at once that he was deep in thought. His features were drawn, and he played with his long white beard. He looked towards her in an absent fashion and managed a smile. Evidently Charm read his concern as well, because she immediately got up from the table and went to him, cooing softly and then saying as she tugged on his hand, “Come … sit, Ry … have some tea.” “I have work that needs doing, my dear,” he said, patting and then releasing her hand. He looked at Nikki for a long moment and sighed. “I didn’t think I would have to call on you so soon, but I am afraid, slayer, that I don’t have a choice. Apparently I can’t get around it and will need, as they say, back-up.” Nikki discovered in that moment that she had already learned to love the wizard, and her response came from the heart. “Anything, sir.” “We will investigate together how best to approach the situation and hopefully diminish any ill affects … but, I am afraid—this will be a risky business.” “Is this about sending the creature back to where it came from?” “Indeed, this now has to be all about getting rid of the blasted thing. He is larger than when he was when he first arrived. I had assumed I would have more time to discover a way in which to send it back to its own dimension, but …” He shook his head, and his wizard’s high-peaked hat slid sideways. “It appears to have been devouring a great many animals in our rich woods, and it has increased in size … greatly.” Charm surprised them both at that moment by stamping her foot. “No … oh never say you have already broken your promise to me, Ry! You absolutely promised you would not go into the woods.” “I did not,” he said and touched her cheek. She lowered her lashes, and Nikki watched the exchange in quiet fascination. It was almost inspiring to see two such people after centuries together, still so very much in love. “Well, then … how did you manage to catch a glimpse of it?” Charm pursued. “That is why I must act immediately … it came right up to the edge of our gardens. Oh, it was careful to remain within the shadows of the trees, but when it saw me, it went into a rage, hissing and roaring like a thing possessed.” “Oh …” stuck in Nikki, “… this is so not good.” She had hoped to stay with Charm long enough to find out about Dracula’s mother. Charm had a host of information to impart, and she wanted more than anything to hear it all. “This is dreadful,” Charm said on a hushed note. “Dreadful, indeed, and we haven’t a moment to waste,” Rysdale answered as he reached for Nikki’s hand. “Come then, child, I believe I may have a solution, but it will

take some doing, and I need you to watch my back as you young people would say.” “I am coming too.” Charm started to follow them. “No, my love … you will only distract me. Stay with the kitten … I think it needs some encouragement to eat.” Charm glanced towards the little white fluff and sighed. “Yes, I suppose …” Nikki allowed herself to be led into what she now thought of as the ‘wizard’s lair’, where she had trained with Rysdale the day before. Once there, he dropped her hand and dove into a huge chest, where he withdrew a very large orb. Nikki was immediately reminded of a crystal ball, except it wasn’t, not at all. It was opaque; at least it was when he first set it at the center of the table. The wizard passed his hand over it and spoke in an arcane language that Nikki did not recognize, and the orb started to clear. What it finally displayed seemed almost unbelievable to Nikki. It was another world, dark, misty, with gnarled and knobby trees whose leaves were gray instead of green and inhabited by creatures much like the one at the garden’s edge. However, there was one other in that world, and he definitely did not seem to fit in. The monstrous creatures surrounding him seemed afraid to get to close to him as he whispered incantations, and when he turned his face, Nikki was astonished. He looked exactly like Rysdale and could have been his twin. She immediately, however, noted the differences. His wizard’s high-peaked hat was made of black and dusted with small red crystals, as were his silk robes. His long hair was not white like Rysdale’s soft white waves, but black and tinged with steel gray as was his beard, and his eyes were coal-black. Nikki fancied she saw evil in their depths. They couldn’t be twins … could they? “Ah …” said Rysdale. “Good … I have the exact location.” He turned to Nikki. “We must take the orb outside, and there I must draw the creature near if he has retreated into the woods again.” “And then what?” “And then, my dear, we send him back to the hell he came from.” “What about that other guy—the bad mojo one?” “Baudali—my twin? Yes, he may return here on the same wave of magic. A problem we shall have to deal with, I suppose, but one thing at a time.” “So he is your brother—your twin brother.” Nikki was stuck on this one point. “He is.” “But, he is nothing like you—I mean he has your look on the surface, and there is where it ends,” she said, touching his arm. “He chose another path … his needs were always … different than mine.” He touched Nikki’s shoulder. “We have no time for this now … come along.” *** Damon stepped through the portal Rysdale had created for him to travel to and from Inverness and the MacFares. He stood for a moment as he studied his surroundings. He was at the very far corner of the Great Room, and every fiber of his being was on edge. He had a bad feeling. Something felt off. “Rysdale? Nikki?” he called out doubtfully. Nothing. He started towards the kitchen, where he was certain he would find Charm, and did in fact discover her seated at the long, wide farmer’s table with a fluff of white in her lap

and a baby bottle in her hands. He was caught off guard for a moment and grinned at her. “Now where did that come from? I haven’t been gone that long.” She looked up at Damon and smiled warmly. “She is the only one that escaped the beast, Damon, and I do believe she is a survivor. She has decided to drink my concoction. I wasn’t sure if the formula I came up with would work to replace poor Mama Cat’s milk, but it has …” Damon smiled in spite of himself and walked over to pet the green-eyed kitten. “I am sorry, Charm, I know you were looking after Mama Cat and her little brood. What are we dealing with now? Is the beast getting that close?” Damon had learned of this complication the day he had left for Scotland. “Nikki heard this baby crying … that’s why she went into the woods. It was mewling, and oh, Damon, poor Nikki came across the poor, tattered remains.” “I am sorry, so sorry Charm … I know you had grown attached.” He frowned and felt an anxiety he had not felt since he was human. “Where is Nikki now?” “Yes, I was very attached …” Charm sighed heavily. Suddenly Damon lost all patience. “Charm … Nikki, where is Nikki now?” “She went off with Rysdale to put an end to the beast.” Charm said quietly as she looked up at Damon and went very quiet. “Bloody hell!” Damon swore and then inclined his head. “Forgive me, Charm, but Rysdale should not be putting Nikki at such risk.” A small smile curved her lips. “Ah … why then, don’t you join them. They went into the garden.” “In the garden—or in the woods?” Damon snapped. “No … he would never take Nikki into the woods.” Charm now frowned. Damon felt something close to fear clutch at his nerve endings. What was this? Fear and anxiety all within moments of one another—and why? Without another word, he turned from Charm and headed for the kitchen door. He was in a fury. He had left Nikki in Rysdale’s care so that the wizard could help her get into her slayer mind and expand her abilities. She wasn’t here to fight monsters from other dimensions. He had told Rysdale he would attend to the creature upon his return. This present situation was totally unacceptable. *** Nikki looked into the orb, and her delicate brows were up with surprise. A dark hole had formed and expanded, though Rysdale seemed oblivious as he chanted, eyes closed, arms spread out, and palms heavenward at her side. The grotesque creature had inched its way towards them, and Nikki held her stake firmly in her hand. That thing looks as though it’s about to charge … wards or no! What if it manages to get through the wards? The beast roared and stretched its claws out of the dark woods and into the light but immediately retracted them as it was assailed with what appeared to be excruciating pain. Nikki assumed this was both from the daylight and the protective wards forbidding its encroachment. “Whew …” Nikki breathed out loud. “At least it still can’t get to this side,” she said to Rysdale, but as he didn’t answer, she studied him. The wizard looked as though he were in a trance as he worked his magic and chanted his spell.

“Okayeee …” she said to no one in particular. “This is getting beyond weird—not liking this so much now.” “Yes, very weird, is it not, child?” Rysdale answered and made her jump. “It will become clearer to you soon.” He grinned at her expression and offered conspiratorially, “This is where it gets tricky.” “Tricky—not keen on tricky.” “Yes, I quite agree, but we are going to have to place the orb close enough to the creature that it will be able to do the job for us.” “How close—not liking the word close and creature in the same sentence.” He chuckled. “Very close …” He was already inching forward. “I am creating a portal to his dimension … and hopefully because the portal will be attracted to him as one of its own so to speak, it will envelop him. Hopefully.” “The word hopefully at this moment … also not quite doing the job for me. Would like to hear a little more assurance if you please.” “Wish I could give it, but this is the first time I have ever tried anything like this. We’ll just have to wing it, my dear.” “Wing it, huh? Okay … waiting on you. What next?” “The black hole is nearly ready …” “To swallow him … you ready for that? Because I’m ready for that.” “That is the plan, slayer, that is the plan.” “I have a name, but you and Damon seem to forget to use it. I am more than just ‘slayer’.” Rysdale laughed robustly. “You are a treasure, and of course you have a name. However, for now … you are slayer, and as such, you are more powerful than you know.” There wasn’t time for more dissension on the topic as at that particular moment Nikki’s blue eyes opened wide. Dark, reaching tentacles emerged from the orb. They were twirling thick and heavy flumes of black tar, and they were reaching for the beast! The nasty shook its ugly head and made feral threats in guttural speak. It roared and started to back away, but even as it put up a clawed fist, the black tar tendrils had wrapped themselves around it and pulled. One moment the grotesque beast stood there bellowing, and then the next it was gone, but something—someone else—had been spit out in its place. “Baudali,” Rysdale said softly, “as I feared.” “Brother,” Baudali returned, inclined his head, and narrowed his coal-black eyes. “And so, you were forced to make an exchange, eh?” “Apparently,” Rysdale answered on scarcely a whisper. “I shall not forget your filial betrayal.” Baudali’s lip moved into a sneer. “You are my brother. You owed me some loyalty, and yet, you banished me to a dimension where I had to use all my skills just to stay alive.” Baudali’s voice had risen, and he clenched his fist. “I shall not forget this, and I shall exact my revenge. I shall savor the moment when I see you writhe in agony because I have left you alive to witness the slaughter of what you love the most … your lady, Charm …” He suddenly noticed Nikki. “Or do I mistake? Have you taken up with this bit of fluff and parted from Charm?” “Hey!” Nikki objected. “No fluff here!” “Baudali—isn’t it just like you to forget what forced me to send you off? You say I am

not loyal, and forget it was I who pulled you out of a crumbling world.” Rysdale shook his head. “Now I realize that banishing you would never be enough—you won’t stop until you have what you want … and I am surprised that you threaten to harm her.” “Are you surprised—do you think I will allow you to best me in this? I would rather she be dead than be yours!” Baudali spat. “I will keep you alive to watch everything you care about suffer to their last breath, and then I will take your life and be done with you.” “And so you have declared yourself,” Rysdale answered. Nikki stood there silently, unsure of what she should do. She didn’t want to intercede—it certainly wasn’t her place—but she had a sure urge to kick Baudali in the shins. She didn’t want to do more and allow the dark wizard to know what she was— what she could do. Better to look like a helpless woman and take him by surprise when the time arose. All at once, she felt a hand touch her shoulder; she turned and looked up to find Damon’s dark, angry eyes. He immediately put her behind him and took a threatening stance. He sneered at Baudali and said, “I would think, dark wizard, that you have better things to do with your time and your magic, than to stand here and make promises you will find difficult to keep.” “Ah, the estimable Damon Drummond … always at my brother’s side … or back.” The devil wizard inclined his head, but his eyes were shooting fiery daggers. “Both of you have underestimated me for years. You may live to regret that.” He waved his hand at that moment, and Nikki heard him whisper a few words and knew what he was doing: retreat to fight another day. Just as this dawning lit in her brain, with a puff of dark smoke he was gone. Damon turned on Nikki, who had her stake still tightly gripped in her hand. “What were you going to do with that? He isn’t a vampire.” His lips were tight, and his expression grim. “No … but I bet it would’ve hurt all the same,” she snapped at him, displeased with the critical lining of his words. She studied him as he seemed to be suffering some inner turmoil and was surprised when his dark eyes lit up brightly and the tickle of a chuckle turned into an uproarious chorus of laughter. Nikki and Rysdale watched him, and Nikki could see that the gentle wizard was as astounded as she at Damon’s reaction, at which point he coughed into his fist and shook his head to say, “Indomitable woman—you will make a formidable slayer indeed.” “I will make? Think I’m there.” Nikki sniffed and put up her chin. However, this set him off again. *** Nikki spent the next two hours alone with Rysdale, as he was intent on giving her a crash course in the art of slayer mind skills. He taught her how to unlock yet another door to the hidden powers in that part of her brain. She actually was thrilled because she had always been able to feel something pulsating and humming in her head, even to the point that at times she suffered awful headaches. All at once the throbbing was gone and replaced with a soft purr, as though she had entered an equitable contract with slayer Nikki. When she said this to the wizard he agreed strenuously. “Indeed, all this time you have defeated who you really are. What you needed to do is what you have just done—become one with the slayer part of your brain. Traveling to it—leaving it behind, and thinking of

it as another entity—defeated who you really are and what you really can do. Now, you have opened yourself to yourself. Now you need to close your eyes and let the magic flow through your body to your fingertips, to your toes … yes … yes … that’s it.” Rysdale clapped his hands together. “I don’t want to lose who I really am … and I am not just a slayer. There is a woman inside as well,” Nikki said quietly. “But, my child, you are one with that woman--an accomplished, skilled, and now fully operational woman. Recognize her, embrace her, be proud to be her, for as Damon said, what we have unlocked in you makes you a frightening opponent.” “What about your brother, what about Baudali? Should we hide Charm away where he can’t get to her?” “I am giving that some thought. She won’t like it, but I have an idea.” “What?” “Still working on it.” He would tell her nothing more, and at the end of the training session, they walked out to find both Damon and Charm having a cozy pot of tea in the Great Room. Once again, it rattled Nikki to watch Damon drinking and eating. He’s a vampire—basically dead, sort of, and shouldn’t be able to consume anything but blood. Right? Wasn’t that what she had always believed? He had told her not to make prejudgments about what he could and couldn’t do. But how could she not? “Nikki … have your tea, and then we are off.” “Off?” The disappointment showed on her face. She loved it at the castle. “Where to?” She had grown very fond of Charm and the wizard, and it satisfied the need in her for family. “We have to go back to Dublin.” “To Dublin—not to your country home?” He smiled. “You liked it there, didn’t you?” She felt herself blush and answered vaguely, “Just wondered.” “Is this wise, Damon?” Rysdale inquired thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is too soon?” “It is wise, Ry, and besides we don’t have a choice. WB has infiltrated an entire square mile just off the edge of Temple Bar. He has been allowed to go unchecked … the future consequences are unthinkable.” “I see, yes, of course, but what exactly are you planning to do about it?” Damon grinned broadly. “Stop him.” Rysdale waved hand impatiently. “That is not an answer.” “You don’t always tell me what spell you are about to use to solve a problem, but I have always trusted you to accomplish what you set out to do—in your own way. Can you not put the same trust in me?” “And so I do, but they are many … you and the slayer are but two.” “And the slayer and I can move about in daylight,” Damon said with one dark brow raised, “and we have some inside information.” “The slayer can move about in daylight, but, Damon, there are times when it can cause you some painful … trauma.” “Nothing I haven’t learned to deal with over the years, old man.” Damon had a hand on his shoulder. “So again, I ask you to trust me.” “Indeed, I always have, and nothing has changed.” Rysdale looked at Nikki. “Except

for her. We have grown quite fond of her, and I think none of us wants her out there before she is ready.” “Do you think she is not ready?” “No, quite the contrary … but, she needs to know that.” “She will. When the time comes … she will.” “She is standing right here!” Nikki interjected. They ignored her, and instead Damon inclined his head respectfully. “I’ll just go up and collect the slayer’s things while you say your good-byes.” “I can collect my own things, Damon Drummond.” Nikki almost stomped her foot, but he was already moving off. How dare he just go about taking care of her as though she were a child? She was an independent woman, and she liked being an independent woman. She didn’t especially like packing … but that was beside the point. Besides, the thought of him having to pack her underwear … well, that damn well tickled a sensation she shouldn’t be experiencing. He was a vamp … a vamp, for goodness sake! Yes, but such a hunk of one, someone in her answered. She put this out of her head and hurried over to hug both Charm and the wizard she had already grown to love. *** Some thirty minutes later saw Nikki and Damon on the route to Dublin. Damon was quiet, and Nikki shot him a look between knit brows. “Will they be okay—with that crazy bad Baudali out to harm them?” “Yes. No one can get past Rysdale.” Nikki sighed and considered this. “Yes, but he is a twin and bad one at that—doesn’t that mean he might be stronger … being ruthless, that is? Rysdale won’t see it coming …” “Don’t underestimate Ry, but don’t worry, slayer, as soon as we have the situation in Dublin contained, we will return and check on things with Ry and Charm.” “Good, I like that,” Nikki said, settling into her seat. A moment later, she popped up and inquired, “What is our first step?” “To get situated and prepare our weapons.” “Do you have a place in mind?” He smiled at her. “Do you doubt it?” She couldn’t help but notice that his mouth looked tempting, curved as it was in a style all his own. Without conscious thought, she licked her lips and put a hand through her long hair and started playing with the strands. He glanced her way, and when he spoke his voice was low and taut. “I love the color of gold in your fiery hair …” For some inexplicable reason his words, in that voice that always seemed to go through her system and leave her breathless, made her tremble with anticipation. This is nuts, she told herself and answered him in a voice that was charged and husky, “Do you?” He loved her hair. Well, that was a good trade, because she loved the black, silky layers that framed his handsome face. Stop—she told herself. He was a vampire—she was a slayer; she wasn’t loving anything about him. “And your eyes … you can’t imagine how many shades they turn when you are passionate about something, and, slayer, you seem to be passionate about so much. One moment those eyes of yours won’t let anyone in … like the deep blue of the ocean,

unfathomable and mysterious, and the next they entice me with their bright openness …” His words were doing things to her mind and heart—inciting a war, in fact—and she had to find a way to stop it. She had to lighten the mood because he had created a flame at her nerve endings, and that flame was shooting through her blood. She cleared her throat and said jovially, “Compliments from you? Wow … did we slip into another dimension?” Heat rushed through her body, and Nikki tried to ignore what she was feeling. Hormones, she told herself … nothing more. All at once he pulled the car off to the side of the road, put it in park, and had her in his arms; when he didn’t kiss her she realized at once that she was so very disappointed. “Don’t I compliment you enough, woman? Haven’t I been telling you how much you could be when you finally let yourself go? What do you need to hear from me? Is it something else you are looking to hear?” His finger stroked her lips, and she looked deep into his eyes but couldn’t speak. “Do you need me to tell you how desirable you are, and how completely out of my reach? I am still, in spite of my unusual abilities to eat and walk in daylight, among other attributes, very much a vampire. I will live on through the centuries—and you will not. You are, in spite of being a slayer, a human, and as such, you will not be able to travel through the years with me. I do not mingle romantically with humans only to watch them wither and die …” Cold-water splash! Right on top of her head, across her face—frigid icicles making her stop, making her retract and put up her hand as though slapped. He had spelled out a truth, only a truth, and it shouldn’t be so bitter, but somehow it was. Had she been dreaming of Damon Drummond? Had she been thinking of him as the possible ‘someone’ in her life? He was a vampire, and she was a slayer. She was sworn to kill vampires or at the very least prohibit their encroachment on the human race. She wasn’t supposed to dream of being with one … “We are a team in this effort and nothing more, whether I want it or not, whether you want it or not. That is what we are—nothing more,” she said softly in a voice she did not recognize as her own—it sounded dead to her ears. He seemed to stiffen as he turned back to the wheel, and she saw his lips set as he put the car in gear and drove on, but there was nothing else to say, so she took to looking out the window.

~ Eleven ~ WB stretched his muscular body, ran a hand over his bald head, and sat back in his chair to await his unexpected guest. John Patrick had requested an invite, and WB had decided to allow him an audience. That was how he had begun to think of himself—superior to all, and why not? He was the one with the power. However, he was cunning enough to realize that he needed men like John Patrick— although the Irishman wasn’t quite a man, now was he? No, but he had never been able to decipher what lay behind the human façade that Patrick wore, though he had a suspicion that Patrick was in fact a demon of some sort and therefore powerful in his own right. He would have to know just what kind of demon—if that was what John Patrick was—in order to get control over him. Soon, very soon, WB meant to make it his business to find the answer to this question and perhaps make good use of him. He glanced around the room at the militants he had requested to attend this meeting. They were all in place. WB didn’t take chances. Clara stood idly in one corner, chatting up one of his guards. He didn’t trust Clara. She was, he thought, half-mad and definitely unpredictable. She turned her pretty head of spiked black hair and directed her dark amber gaze at him, as though she sensed his scrutiny. She appeared thoughtful and bold, and he didn’t like that. Just what was she up to? Clara’s presence bothered WB a great deal, but he kept her close. She knew too much to do otherwise, and he wasn’t ready to kill her … yet. She was the only one of his clan members that possessed an exceptional ‘scenting’ power. She was able to track like no other vampire he knew. She was still important enough to him, and thus, he had allowed her to live. Her independence in the end, he told himself, would be her undoing. One day her lack of respect towards him would push him too far, and useful or not, he would put an end to the little pretty. Clara always made him frown, and he knew she was aware he did not like her. So the question presented itself—why risk herself and stay? She could easily take off and live quite safely and comfortably out of his range … for the moment. She knew lone vamps were not his targets. It would take too much time to ferret them out. No, WB was only interested in destroying the largest of the clans, enlisting the others, and taking over the human world, village by village, towns by town until he reached the larger cities. She moved away from the guard who strode over and took up a position at WB’s side. The vamp took a threatening stance as John Patrick entered the dimly lit chamber and lingered for a moment in the shadows. All WB’s guards were on the alert. They sensed something about John Patrick that

was dangerous. A few of WB’s militant vamps circled John Patrick from behind. John Patrick looked around as he emerged from the shadows. He wore a sneer that distorted his usually attractive features. His eyes were burning a low shade of red, and his aura was giving off powerful vibes. It was obvious that he was not afraid of the crew of vampires, and WB wondered at it. What sort of demon would not fear a vampire? Did he have a shield against a vampire’s bite and strength? Perhaps he could not be killed in the usual fashion? However, it was already known that John Patrick and Damon Drummond had collided and that Damon had gotten the better of the match. Interesting … thought WB as he watched the man/demon come closer. He thought of Damon and smirked. No doubt Damon was regretting the night he had agreed when Chad MacFare had said they should let WB live. Damon had objected strenuously but in the end allowed it to be so. The two could have easily bested him, just as they had with their so-called ‘Prince’, Pentim Rawley, but they hadn’t. Chad had thought them better served to let him live. WB almost snorted over the memory. Fools, they hadn’t seen what an adversary they had left alive. No doubt, Damon was repeating history when he left John Patrick alive. Time would tell on that score, and in the meantime? In the meantime, he would find out why John Patrick wanted this meeting. First things first. WB smiled and put up a welcoming hand. “John Patrick—let’s dispense with the amenities and get to the point, shall we? Tell me, what brings you here?” *** Dublin lights, Nikki noted to herself, seemed as though they made an attempt to ward off the worst of the night. They had entered the south side of the Liffey River, and as they passed, Nikki glanced over the dark waters glistening mysteriously under the lamp lights. How many secrets the river must hold … She wanted to ask where they were going, but they hadn’t spoken since those last words to one another, and she felt oddly awkward. It was Damon who finally broke the silence. “I’m taking you to a little place I keep in Dublin—a quiet loft on a quiet street, away from the bustle of Temple Bar and still close enough to walk there. I think you will be comfortable there.” “And you …?” Nikki was suddenly concerned. Would he leave her there alone? Was he going off … perhaps to his little vampire beauty? “Yes, I like it as well,” he said, glancing quickly at her and then away. Even in the darkness of the car, Nikki saw a soft smile curve his luscious lips and hurriedly looked away from him, but she couldn’t stop the next question as it jumped out of her mouth. “But, are you staying there, at this place of yours, as well?” “More so than less,” he answered vaguely. “What does that mean?” Nikki frowned up at him. He frowned but did not look at her as he weaved through the city’s nighttime traffic, “It means that I am taking you somewhere safe, where I will draw up a plan of action.” “A plan of action? What action?” Nikki saw an odd expression flitter across his handsome face before he sighed. She gave him a moment as he clearly was thinking out his answer. When it came, his voice

was grim. “What do you think our course of action should be, slayer? We have a clan taking over parts of the city in slow degrees but managing to do so successfully all the same. Can we leave it go unchecked?” “No … but what I want to know is why … just why you are working against them? They are vampires … you are …” She didn’t finish the sentence as she screwed up her mouth and sighed over the problem. He almost snorted before he sneered. “Is that what you think of me—that I am a vampire and so I must be like them?” She puzzled up at him. “Truthfully, Damon Drummond, I don’t know what to think of you.” “Then let me give you the quick and easy version, something you can digest and understand, something that will make you believe me when I tell you that I don’t mean to allow WB and his clan to take over the human world.” “And what would that version be?” “The one that says in black and white that it is my fault … mine and Chadwick MacFare’s fault that WB is even alive, but even if that weren’t so, haven’t you learned anything about me yet? Have you ever seen me consume human blood—any kind of blood?” “No, no blood … and I have just thought you were private about it … maybe only drink animal blood. How would I know the answer to that?” “That doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that we contain the problem. Chad and his family are back in control in Inverness, and it is our job, yours and mine, to take care of matters here …” He stopped and looked at her through the darkness. “… with Moon at our back.” “Deadly Moon? So … she is here, just as I thought, and you know … have known—” He cut her off. “Don’t be such a fool. When I told you I didn’t know where she was, I was telling you the truth. She had not responded to any of my calls, and I still don’t know exactly where she is, but I think I know how to draw her out.” “I read about her—the old manuscripts at the vampire club—and what I read described her as the worst most, deadly vampire ever created. Why would she help?” “What you read is a myth. Forget about what you think you know and try and see through the muck to the truth.” “The only truth I know is that she killed my brother.” “Supposition, slayer, can get you killed. You know only that she was last seen with him.” “He was mutilated vampire-style.” Nikki heard her own voice as she spoke. Had it lost some of her conviction? Was he getting to her? Was it possible Moon hadn’t killed her brother? Motive …? What could have been her motive? For blood—usually vampires with age had more style, and why would she who kept her presence so unknown draw attention to herself? These were questions that had popped into her mind only recently. “When I find her, I will as I agreed set up a meeting between you.” Nikki nodded and digested this. He was speaking softly once more, and there was resignation in his tone. “She has her hands full just now. I know, from a friend, that Moon has been working near Killarney to contain an offshoot clan that WB brought into his fold.”

“Why would she do that?” “For the same reason as I am doing it.” “Which is?” “How can you be such a fool?” he said irritably as he turned into a narrow alley, turned again at what appeared to be a dead end, and stopped before a limestone building covered neatly with ivy. There were three black garage doors, and without his touching anything that Nikki could see, one of those doors lifted. They pulled inside, and a small light turned on. Damon parked the car and got out. He moved towards some steps at the far corner. He didn’t turn to see if Nikki was following, and for some reason this supremely annoyed her. She had no choice but to follow him, though she called out, “Shouldn’t we bring in my bags?” “I’ll get them later. We are going to change and go out right away.” “What? Change? Into what … go out where?” “It is time we tested your new awareness and take down a few of WB’s clan members.” *** Nikki stared at the black leather outfit laid out on the queen-sized bed in the room that Damon had assigned to her and then looked around at the pretty floral décor around her. It seemed surreal—all of it. He had prepared these clothes for her—like when? Had he always anticipated that she would agree to work with him to rid Dublin of WB? She slipped the black tank top over her black lacy bra and smiled to herself—leather and lace. She pulled on the form-fitted black leather pants and marveled at how they seemed so soft and actually moved with her. She wondered how long he had been planning to bring her here. “This is crazy,” she told herself right out loud. “Might as well lock me up in the loony bin, because something must be wrong with me. I didn’t come here to do this, did I? No, I did not … but, it is all a part of who I am, isn’t it? I only wanted to get to my brother’s murderer … not take on a legion of vampires, not save the world. That isn’t who I am—a world saver.” No, her inner voice answered, you are doing this because you are a slayer—it’s what you are supposed to do. It is your destiny, a hard-line voice in her head shot back at her. Well, I don’t believe in destiny … we make our own, she answered and turned to have a good look at herself in the long mirror of her bedroom suite. What she saw made her pause and stare. Surprise lit in her brain. Her flame-colored hair was in a wild mass around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes looked back at her, and their hue appeared dark ocean-blue in the lamplight, but what caught her attention was her body. She looked sleek, sexy, and dangerously threatening. She had killed any number of vampires over the last few weeks, and she supposed the ‘killer’ in her was evident even in the mode of her stance. Funny, she thought now, she had not noticed that before. She pulled on her low-heeled black leather boots and slipped into the soft, thin leather jacket that was part of the ensemble Damon had provided for her. The leather was soft and expensive, designed to move and stretch with her. When Damon had first shown her to her room she had been surprised. The room was so very different than the rest of the loft, which was ultra modern.

The door he opened to her suite displayed a chamber furnished in the style of another century. Well, yeah—he belonged to another century! Still, it was at odds with the modern interior he seemed to enjoy in the other rooms. Odd that. She had taken a step into the room and begrudgingly said, “This is lovely.” “For the woman in you,” he had answered simply, looking away. His voice had been low and as always held that note of charming, seductive allure, but he wasn’t looking at her—he wasn’t trying to seduce; it was just what he was, an erotic hypnotic … stop! She couldn’t think of him like that. He was a vamp—she was a slayer. So she had quickly stepped away from the bed, which was a four-poster with a draped canopy, so very enticing … Stop! she demanded of her hormones, for she blamed her rising heat on that, nothing more, but she still had watched him as he crossed the Oriental carpet to open a door that led to a full and very luxurious bath. “For your privacy,” he offered gently. “I have the other full bath in my suite, and there is a half bath off the living room.” “Thank you.” She eyed him speculatively. “This particular suite—so different from the rest of your loft—seems to have been designed with a woman in mind …?” His smile was boyish and mischievous and totally caught her attention. She found herself smiling back at him even though she didn’t want to. He answered her with the touch of a tease. “I have never brought a woman here before, if that is what you are asking.” She raised an eyebrow and a disbelieving eye, and he smirked at her to add, “I had the room, which was empty until recently, furnished with you—only you—in mind.” “You didn’t.” Nikki was astonished. “Oh, but I did.” He moved a lazy hand towards the bed. “I wanted you comfortable at the end of a long, hard night … when we got back from slaughtering as many WB members as we could.” He pointed towards a black ensemble laid out on the bed. “I took the liberty of having that made for you.” Nikki walked over and held the jacket up. She turned to him with a look of astonishment. “How could you possibly have known my size?” He smirked again. “Call it an educated … guess—more or less.” “More or less?” “On the few occasions I had the opportunity to hold you … I took note of your approximate measurements. Time will tell.” Nikki saw the devilish grin on his face and felt herself blush as she looked away. He was always sending her mixed signals. One moment he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world—and that he had to have her—and the next, he made her feel like they were worlds apart. What did she really want? Did she want him to continue to keep her at a distance? Was that what she wanted? It was the wise thing—but Nikki didn’t always enjoy being wise. A knock at her door snapped her out of her reverie, and she crossed the room and opened the door wide. A sense of satisfaction swept through her when she saw the expression on his face as he looked her over, but it was quickly banished as he said, “You’ll do. Come on.” “Where are we going?” “To Coombes Square.”

“Why?” “Because a division of WB’s clan has taken over an entire section there. Humans are afraid to come out at night and are moving away during the daylight hours. We need to take back what we can, street by street, and, slayer … we don’t want any of the vamps escaping us to report back to WB. The longer we can work undetected, the better.” “You mean ‘kill undetected’.” “As you like.” He inclined his head. She waved this away. “Yes, but won’t he miss members of his clan if they start vanishing?” “Not until it is too late. We take them out, little by little, and then move in as a team with the others, and WB won’t know what hit him until it is over.” “Team—what team?” “Not now … but we have a team … ragtag at best but formidable.” Nikki digested this as she picked up her tote bag, but he took it from her, went inside and put her weapon still sheathed into her hands. She strapped it on and across her back as he watched. “That’s all you need …” He grinned boyishly then, making her feel as though they were only going to an amusement park, and added nonchalantly, “… and of course—me!” Nikki rolled her eyes and followed him down the wide hallway to the loft door, which led down a narrow, steep flight of stairs directly into his garage and his waiting vehicles. “Tonight—we take the black Wrangler I purchased for the city and nights like this.” He grinned at her. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” “So no Maz … no Jag … no luxury.” She peeped at him, and amusement lit in her eyes and curved her lips. He said nothing to this but began instructing her on the simplicity of his plan. “We go in … you draw them to you, preferably one at a time, and I take them down … one at a time, and quietly, Nikki. No fanfare” She said nothing to this as she digested what lay ahead of them and slipped onto the seat of the dark Wrangler. Oddly enough, butterflies filled her tummy, and she silently chided herself. What was wrong with her? Why so nervous? She wasn’t afraid of facing a few vamps? No, she wasn’t, but everything about Damon Drummond set her on edge and turned her into someone she hadn’t realized she could be. She had this absurd urge to cuddle up to him and pretend they were on a romantic date—anywhere other than where they were going. She sucked in air and sat back to collect her thoughts and her nerves. *** As it turned out, the best laid plans of vampire and slayer did not come to fruition; plans rarely are able to see all facets of the universe in which they are conceived. The unexpected always intrudes to throw monkey wrenches into places they don’t belong. And even though Damon expected a list of surprise occurrences, still one managed to rear its ugly, unexpected head. Damon had parked the jeep a good distance from their final destination, away from the lights and any undo notice. They got out, and Nikki watched him as he glanced around. He looked like a predator, feral and threatening, and it made her feel … somehow submissive and hungry. Ridiculous. What was wrong with her? She shook the notion off and followed beside him as he led her towards a dimly lit and narrow avenue.

“How do you know where to go?” “Lived a long time, slayer—I know my way around.” She looked up and saw the street sign that designated it Coombes Square, but she would have known it without the sign. It was like a walking into ‘no man’s land’. There were no street lamps, and most of the four- and five-story buildings looked empty. There was a small park in the middle of the square, and that wasn’t lit either. The place looked deserted. Everything seemed as though it was shrouded in darkness, as though there had never been any people coming and going enjoying the day and the night. Nikki looked at Damon as a wave of distress filtered through her brain. “What has happened here … where is everyone?” “Aye, then, WB and his clan decided this would be a good place to house his military. That is what he has been doing—gathering his vamps for a military strike.” “Impossible. They could be hunted down during the day …” “Easier said than done, slayer. Vamps, unlike the legend, actually don’t have to sleep during the day, and they don’t need to sleep in coffins. WB could assign special units to keep watch, and as long as the vamps don’t go out in daylight, they can wait for their enemies to come to them. And, slayer … a vamp needs to be killed up close and personal.” “What about just bombing them if they hole up?” He smiled grimly. “Unless their head is severed, their parts will reunite … and heal. As I said, killing a vamp … tricky business.” “Hmmm. Okay, but if this place is empty … how do they feed?” “They don’t feed here. This is their new den, so to speak. This is where they congregate and plan.” “Plan what? And what about the garda—don’t they see this area … is … deserted and not right?” “No doubt, they most certainly do, but for whatever reason, the garda division that covers this area … has apparently let it slide. Money, slayer … talks.” “But—” “Hush now … can’t you feel him close by? Heads up … you are on.” Nikki stared into the dark ghost town and tried to zero her senses in on the approaching vampire. Sure enough, he was stalking her from the street that ran to the east. She looked around—no Damon. Her delicate brow went up, and with ready resignation she mumbled, “I guess so, like it or not … apparently this boy thinks he has an easy meal.” The vamp was not very big and not very old or experienced. He didn’t size up the situation. He didn’t assume he could be in danger from a mere wisp of a woman. He charged at her full speed, perhaps worried some other vamp might claim her for his own. Damon appeared suddenly out of nowhere, and before the vamp had a chance to put his hands on Nikki, Damon caught him from behind with his boot. The vamp went down, startled and confused. Damon was on him suddenly, and Nikki heard the vamp’s neck break. Hurriedly they dragged him into the nearby alley, where Damon used some artifact he produced from his inner pocket and turned the vamp into a bonfire. “Right then, slayer … one down … and be ready with your stake should one of these things manage to escape me.”

“Escape you?” She scoffed, “From what I see, little chance of that happening.” His eyes glittered at the compliment, but he said nothing. The next three vamps were killed pretty much in the same fashion, and then the unexpected occurred as it so inconveniently had a habit of doing. Nikki turned her head at the sound of laughter. Four vampires were returning to their ghost town den after an obvious feeding frenzy. They were high from the excitement of the kill. One of them was still licking his lips when all at once he stopped and sniffed the air. Nikki glanced at Damon, relieved to note that he was already aware. He made short work of the vampire he had just knocked into a mortar wall, broke and then severed the vamp’s neck, and hurried to Nikki’s side. Too late … The vamps had already parted from one another and, with vamp speed, circled them— tightly. “Damnable pickle, slayer … be ready.” The angry vamps, fangs displayed, eyes feral with their fury, were crouched as they took their measure. Their behavior told Nikki that these vamps knew that they faced a ‘slayer’ and a potent vampire and that they would have to act in unison to succeed. They stalked as a well-choreographed team, and they made low, threatening sounds as they surrounded Damon and Nikki. As they closed in, Nikki felt a rush of adrenalin. She had never been in such danger before, and yet, with Damon by her side … it seemed thrilling instead of daunting. There was no time to think as Damon went very still, drew Nikki up close to his body, and whispered, “Stay beside me—don’t branch out.” “But—” “Do as I say, Nikki!” His voice was hard and authoritative. “Keep your stake low, so they don’t grab at it. Keep it close and tightly gripped, and we’ll work them in pairs—just as we planned.” Nikki nodded and even in the midst of the danger thought to herself, That was the second time he’s called me Nikki … The four rushed them at once in an attack that was meant to fluster with force and numbers. Damon held her in check and then said softly to her, “Now!” Both took a gymnastic leap beautifully executed and landed with their backs at a nearby brick building. They stood crouched and ready, side by side as the four had barely stopped themselves from bumping into one another. The four angry vamps turned in unison, and one of them cursed loudly as they charged once more, thinking to pin their prey against the building. “Take the small one on the left … I’ll handle the others,” Damon commanded. There was no time to argue about the fact that what he called the ‘small one’ was well over her height, and a husky brute as well. The vampire was coming at her. His lips were drawn back as he bared his fangs and made guttural noises, thinking to frighten her as he charged. Nikki controlled the instinct to move out of his way until the very last minute, when she used slayer speed and sidestepped just enough, a skill she had perfected over the weeks. For some unfathomable reason, none had ever anticipated the move. He was no exception, and Nikki thought it probable from his clumsiness that he had never seen a

slayer before and was off balance. Without a warning, Nikki was on his back and stabbing him sure and deep with a force she was certain she had never attained before. Oh yeah, she was in full slayer mode! He cried out in agony as the poison rushed through his body. He reached backwards with his hands as though trying to stem the gushing flow of blood, and it left him vulnerable for the next blow, which came—swift and sure. She rammed the stake into his cold, dead heart with a satisfaction she hadn’t realized she was capable of feeling. It was as though she was the hand of vengeance for her brother over and over … He went down, and Nikki was on him, drawing out her stake and standing aside from the creature, because this one she knew was just old enough to turn to dust … and he did. He crumbled in upon himself as bones and muscle and fluids dried and left behind only the clothes. She kicked the clothes to one side and turned … … and discovered that Damon had left one of the vamps (a newbie) for dead on the asphalt street and had knocked the other two onto their backs. She smiled to herself, feeling inwardly, absurdly proud of him. He was a fighting machine, and she took a moment to watch him maneuver as one of those vamps got up and went at him. Fool, she thought to herself, you don’t stand a chance against my Damon. HUH! MY Damon …? Where had that come from? No time for more. As the other grounded vamp was getting to his feet, she hurried over, kicked him with a very fine round kick to his throat, and hurriedly straddled him. She drove her stake deep and hard and jumped out of the way as the breeze scattered his dust in the air, again leaving behind his dark collection of clothes. She turned and watched as Damon walked hurriedly towards her. Behind him he dragged one of the vampire bodies that had not disintegrated. She could not help herself. She looked at Damon and saw perfection. He was athletic and strong in his movements, which were fluid, self-assured, and thoroughly skilled. And she knew that he measured every move he made. Nikki watched quietly as Damon set the dead vampire up in flames and then came to get her hand and pull her along. “Fast now, slayer—we want to keep our anonymity.” Less than a moment later, having picked Nikki up in spite of her protest, he used a vampire speed she had not thought possible and they were in the jeep and headed for home. They eyed one another, and Nikki could not help stop the comradely whoop that suddenly flowed from her lips. It came out before she could think. She was high on their success and nearly put up her hand for a high five. Nearly—some saving instinct made her stop just in time. He gave her a severe look, apparently disapproving, and said, “Slayer, you forget yourself. Killing is not a thing we celebrate. Those pathetic creatures are what they are very often through no fault or desire of their own. And yes, we need to eliminate them, just as one might a rabid dog, but … it is grim and sad.” She sobered at once and looked long and hard at his profile in the dim light of the jeep. Damon was a mystery to her. Would she ever figure him out? It wasn’t long before he walked her to her bedroom door and stood away from her. Inwardly she sighed. He was keeping her at a distance, and for some reason the fact totally depressed her. He opened the door and with a slight movement of his hand invited her to go in.

“Good night, slayer.” “Oh, you are back to calling me slayer? You did call me Nikki …” “You must be mistaken,” he said aloofly. “Yeah, right …” She started in and then stopped to turn and say roughly, “Tomorrow night I want to meet with Deadly Moon.” She waved off any objection he might make. “Don’t, please, lie to me, Damon … I know … in here”—her hand went to her heart— “that you know where she is now and that you can arrange a meeting.” “I already did. Tomorrow night, you will get your wish, and I will get mine.” “What is yours?” “The truth.”

~ Twelve ~ Nikki awoke to the sun streaming in her wide bedroom window. She got up, stretched, padded over to the window, and looked out onto Dublin with a smile. She had always dreamt of coming to Dublin … just not quite on a ‘killing spree’. However, they were predators all of them—feeding on humans. They needed elimination. Damon, who was the most supreme vampire she had ever encountered, was very un-vampire like. Was he a vampire? He did not deny being one—quite the opposite—and yet … he didn’t drink blood? Or did he? No—she didn’t get that scent off him. In fact, his scent was unusual— pine and vanilla and some kind of spicy herb. What was up with that? One of these days someone was going to give her some answers! She threw off the large white T-shirt she had worn to bed and headed for the shower. It was a good thirty minutes later, after luxuriating in the hot water, doing her teeth, and brushing her thick hair into a semblance of order, before she pulled on a pair of nicely fitted jeans and a pale blue tank top. Sneakers on and denim jacket in hand, she went down the short hallway to the open loft space that housed the kitchen. A coffeemaker had already and automatically brewed some very fine-smelling coffee. She poured, sipped, looked around, and wondered where Damon might be. She moved towards his bedroom and softly knocked. “Damon … would you like a cup of coffee?” No answer. She tried again—same result. She tried the knob, found it unlocked, and opened it a crack. It was shrouded in darkness, and she opened it wider, which illuminated the room. His bed was big and covered in black and gray shades of silk and looked as though it had not been slept in. Black and gray silk covers … big bed … shivers up and down her spine. Oooh … not going there. Perhaps he had gone out earlier? She had slept late, and it was already ten in the morning. Right then, Nikki girl … out you go—get some walking in! Maybe a little shopping? Yes, she was going to have to keep busy as she recalled that the evening would bring her face to face with her brother’s killer … if Deadly Moon was his killer. For some inexplicable reason she was beginning to have her doubts. Why? Because of Damon? Perhaps, or perhaps she was beginning to realize that it all seemed too pat, too perfect. However, the question remained: if it was a set-up—why? Why would anyone want her to believe it was Deadly Moon who killed her brother if it wasn’t true? She shook her head, rinsed her coffee cup, donned her denim jacket, and headed out. What she needed was that good brisk walk. She hadn’t done more than a mile, nodding and smiling at occasional passersby as she

went, when an older man with a cane seemed to step out of a store entrance and approach her. “Excuse me, miss …” Nikki glanced at him quickly. He looked distinguished in his dark suit, white shirt, and tie, with an overcoat slung over his arm; however, Nikki suddenly felt wary. She couldn’t say why. As he got closer, there was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite place him. “Please … could you tell me