CHAPTER FIVE

July 20, 1998

"Does it make you feel better?"

Meghann smiled up at Charles as he settled beside her on the sofa. "Don't you look handsome tonight."

"Mmph," he muttered noncommittally but preened a bit at Meghann's compliment. "It's not too much?"

"For a romantic dinner out? Absolutely not—you look perfect." He did, wearing the dark Saville Row suit Meghann had bought him for Christmas, his normally flyaway black hair slicked back into rippling, shiny waves.

"I'm still not sure about you going there by yourself," Charles fretted.

"Lord Baldevar hasn't been at the house when we've been there since that first night," Meghann pointed out. She'd seen very little of the fiend over the past two weeks and hadn't spoken to him at all. Even when he came to Lee's to give her blood, Charles stood by her side while she fed. Meghann had never imagined feeding could be as antiseptic as the impersonal wrist held out to her while she wouldn't even look at her feeder. "And I have a lot of work to do with Jimmy tonight. I told you I'm going to lower the amount of medication in his blood pack tonight so I need to watch him all night to make sure he doesn't have an adverse reaction. You don't really want to sit with my patient and me all night when you could be enjoying yourself with Lee? Now you're going on that date if I have to drag you to Fiore's bodily."

Charles grinned at her no-nonsense tone and gestured to the leather-backed diary Lord Baldevar had given Lee. "It reassured you?"

"Somewhat." At the very least, reading Infans Noctis made Meghann understand why Lord Baldevar was willing to attempt vampiric conception. Basically, it told the story of Lucian, a Roman senator before he was transformed (how he was transformed he declined to say) and Melina, the beautiful Greek concubine he fell in love with and transformed so they could be together forever.

Like Lord Baldevar, Lucian was obsessed with the idea that a child with the blood of two vampires flowing through its veins would have all their strengths and none of their flaws, like the need to hide from the sun. Frustrated when Melina failed to conceive after one hundred years passed, Lucian took her to a small island in the Aegean Sea dedicated to the worship of Aphrodite, goddess of fertility. After spreading Aphrodite's altar with their blood as well as that of a human sacrifice, he and Melina made love before the goddess's statue and conceived their child.

"At least now we know where Lord Baldevar got the idea for the ritual he put you through on Beltane," Charles said, reading along with Meghann.

"And how he knew what was wrong with me," Meghann said, tapping her nail against the passage where Melina became desperately ill whenever she tried to feed. In desperation, Lucian fed her his blood, thanking God effusively when she recovered.

"Do you think he'd have attempted conception without Lucian's diary?" Charles asked.

"No way," Meghann answered. "He'd never chance a deformed child… our perfect fiend can't have some misbegotten offspring. No doubt he'd leave it on a hillside to die like they used to do in ancient times. Isn't it funny, though, how vampires are the opposite of humans? All those vampiric pregnancies we read about resulted in deformity because the parents weren't of the same bloodline. Only Lucian transformed Melina. It never would have occurred to me—that vampires must be of the closest blood relation to produce healthy children." Meghann looked up. "Do you suppose that's why I got sick… that in some twisted way it's a good sign, since Melina had the same problem?"

"Maybe. After all, morning sickness… that's a sign the hormones are coursing through a woman's body normally. Maybe you're developing antibodies… perhaps they help the child's development in some way."

She turned back to the book, skipping through Melina's uneventful pregnancy until she came to the passage where the child, after a hideous labor of five nights, was born absolutely perfect, though Melina died of hemorrhaging a few minutes before the child was born. The classical Latin prose raved about his cherubic good looks… the blond hair with a tinge of red, dark lashes against snowy white skin, the infant boy's perfectly shaped limbs and fine weight. The only thing wrong with the child was that he was born dead. Unable to take the loss of his consort as well as his son, the grief-stricken father recorded the tragic events in Infans Noctis and then committed suicide by greeting the sunrise.

Oddly, Meghann wasn't overly upset when she read that Melina died. Lee could cauterize her easily, or give her a caesarian before she lost too much blood. But she felt sad when she read about that perfect, stillborn child. What would he have been like if he lived? Would he be able to tolerate daylight? Would he develop blood teeth… would he need to drink blood at all? Could he grow up and pass for a human child? Play with other children? Poor thing…

"Breech birth… hung on his own cord," Charles observed, reading over her shoulder. "At least we know now vampires… that you have a chance for healthy offspring."

Meghann took his hand. "Charles? You know Jimmy might not recover. If… if he doesn't make it, would you please raise this baby with me?"

"Meghann." Charles clenched her hand, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. "Are you asking me to be a father to your baby?"

Meghann nodded. "You and me and Lee. How could this baby ask for better parents?"

Charles caught her in a fierce hug. "Thank you." Then he shoved her away and gave her a sardonic grin. "How do you think Lord Baldevar will react to the idea of two fags raising his son?"

"It's a girl," Meghann corrected. "And he's never going to know… unless he can see us from hell."

Meghann and Charles heard Lee bidding his last patient a pleasant good night.

"Wish I still had patients," Meghann grumbled. More than that, Meghann wished her life hadn't changed… that she were still counseling battered women from the home office she'd established in her ramshackle, comfortable beach house. She conjured up a pleasant scene—saying good night to her last patient and then diving into the ocean for a moonlight swim with Jimmy.

"I know you miss it," Charles said, patting her hand. "But you'll get it all back… you'll see."

Meghann kept silent, but she had her doubts about that. Aside from Jimmy's state (she still couldn't look into those blank eyes without wanting to cry), unless Charles managed to kill Lord Baldevar, there was no future for her… he'd kill her after she gave birth so she wouldn't interfere with whatever horrid plans he had for her child. And that would be the kind fate—he might just keep her alive and try to force her back into the role of his meek, brainless little plaything. No doubt if she resisted his wishes, the fiend would either beat her or threaten to kill all her friends, or maybe he'd be low enough to threaten the baby to get what he wanted. Meghann shuddered and tried to force her thoughts out of their miserable ruminations.

Lee came into the living room, all ready for his big date with Charles, and Meghann looked on in amusement as her normally glib friend stared speechless at Lee.

"What he'll say as soon as he gets his tongue back in his mouth is that you look wonderful, Lee." Meghann thought Lee, in his neatly tailored charcoal-gray suit, with his ash-blond hair that had a sprinkling of silver, was every inch the distinguished professional, certainly what people referred to as a "great catch."

"Thanks." Lee may have been speaking to her but his eyes were on Charles, who got up and took his lover's hand.

Meghann dropped her eyes, feeling more and more she shouldn't be here. Of course she was happy that Lee and Charles had found each other again… she knew how hurt Charles had been when he'd been forced to leave Lee because sooner or later the mortal would question his odd hours.

There had never been any question of him telling Lee what he was. Two centuries before they were born, Alcuin had decreed no new vampires should be created. As for telling mortals… while it might ease the vampire's loneliness, it put the mortal in an awful position. He or she had to carry around an explosive secret, shield it from other humans. And it was only a matter of time before the mortal became so poisoned with jealousy that his lover never aged while he withered away, that the relationship would fall apart.

The only reason Meghann had been allowed to confide in Jimmy was that he knew about vampires before they met… one had slaughtered his family and left him only able to face the dark blind drunk until he had met Meghann. Then they had six wonderful years together and Meghann's only sadness was that her best friend couldn't have a lover like she did… one who knew all his secrets and loved him anyway.

Yes, she was very happy Charles found someone, though she wished it hadn't been her own miserable circumstances that led to the reunion.

"I'm gonna get going," Meghann announced, knowing they'd be on top of each other the second she walked out the door. She wondered if they'd even make it to dinner.

"Are you sure?" Charles questioned, reluctantly pulling his eyes from Lee. "You've never gone over there alone. Meghann, please, Lee and I can go out… you just stay here in the house or maybe go to a movie."

Meghann gave a short laugh. "You think if Lord Baldevar really wants to find me he'll wait for me to show up at his house? I am not going to spend my life in fear of him. Look, I swear I'll call out to you if I need you… not that he'd harm a hair on the head of his pregnant brood mare anyway." She walked out the door before Charles could present her with another argument, and willed herself not to cry. Tears never helped anyone. The thing to do was just sublimate her misery, work on helping Jimmy, and not dwell on how much she missed having someone look at her like Charles had just looked at Lee.

As Meghann strolled up the now familiar path to Lord Baldevar's house, she noticed the mansion was shuttered and dark. Hardly a surprise, though she sometimes wondered where Lord Baldevar took himself on the four nights he allowed her to visit and work with Jimmy. No doubt he oozed around the strip, terrorizing young women (prostitutes barely past their adolescence being his favorite prey, if she remembered right), and drinking their blood.

Sometimes Vinny was around to welcome her, but the servant's schedule was erratic—what with having to dispose of corpses in the vast desert around them.

Meghann opened the front door with the key Vinny had given her. Out of habit, she waved her hand to light up the foyer and the living room beyond. No matter that vampires saw as well as cats in the dark, a well-lit house was a comfort to Meghann, who had never cared for the dark.

She strained her ears for activity upstairs but the house was silent—she'd been hoping Jimmy might be moving around but no such luck. With a sigh, Meghann mounted the marble staircase and headed toward Jimmy's room.

"Hey, sweetie," Meghann greeted when she opened the door to Jimmy's room. She plastered a huge grin on her face, ignoring how her heart lurched when the apathetic gray-blue eyes didn't even move toward her.

Jimmy, lying curled up on the foam bed Meghann had brought, didn't acknowledge her until she moved closer and he smelled the blood in her canvas bag.

"Towel," Meghann said sharply and pointed to the beige towel lying next to the bed. For the past several weeks, she'd been trying (without success) to reintroduce Jimmy to performing simple tasks for himself.

Whining with frustration, Jimmy made a lunge for her but Meghann shoved him back and then picked the towel up herself, tucking it under his chin like a bib so he wouldn't get any blood on his clothes.

"Now," she said and gave him the transfusion bag.

Jimmy began gulping thirstily, blood teeth shredding the plastic while he made feral growls deep in his throat.

"Jimmy," Meghann said patiently, "we're not savages. There's no need to behave like a wild dog protecting his meat from the rest of the pack. I'm not going to take the blood from you."

Jimmy ignored her and wrapped his hands protectively around the pint of blood.

While he drank, Meghann removed a few containers of takeout from her bag, placing it on two paper plates. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and apple pie—that used to be Jimmy's favorite meal. A few weeks ago, she'd informed that low-life snake (the kindest term she had for Lord Baldevar) she'd be responsible for Jimmy's meals as well as his blood—she wouldn't have him reduce Jimmy any further by making him cannibalize his prey.

Meghann brought the food to the bed, and Jimmy, blood lust sated, began shoveling it into his mouth.

"No!" Meghann took his right hand and wrapped it around a plastic fork. Then, still holding his hand in hers, she speared a few beans with the fork and brought the food to Jimmy's mouth.

Six times she repeated the motion of fork to mouth before Jimmy caught on and made a clumsy effort to use the utensil.

"Good!" Meghann praised and this time her smile was genuine. For two weeks, she'd been trying to reintroduce Jimmy to silverware and this was the first time she'd made any progress.

While he ate, Meghann began his therapy. She went over to the CD player and put on So Alone by Johnny Thunders, their favorite singer.

"Do you remember our first date… when you played this album for me?" she asked Jimmy brightly. Meghann believed that the key to reaching Jimmy lay in stimulation of his senses, in making him want to think again. That's why she'd brought over all his favorite clothes and CDs; she was sure he'd recover if objects he was familiar with surrounded him. Also, since she was certain fear would keep him locked in his catatonia forever, she never once spoke to him of Lord Baldevar or what he'd gone through. Instead, she kept up a steady stream of light chatter, as though she expected that at any moment Jimmy would join in the conversation. On previous nights, she'd discussed music he liked or read to him from his favorite books.

Now she was bringing up the happiest times they'd had together, as much for herself as for him. She had no desire to dwell on the present… or even worse, what the future might hold.

While Johnny belted out his version of "Great Big Kiss," Meghann sat down next to Jimmy, pulling his unresisting head onto her shoulder. "Look," she said and pointed to the pictures she'd brought with her. "Remember you were so excited about going to New Orleans because you got to see St. Peter House—the hotel where Johnny Thunders OD'd or got killed, depending on who you believe?

"From the handsome facade outside, you'd never know the hotel was little more than a flophouse, would you? That's such a great shot you took, Jimmy—the way the sunlight reflects off the wrought-iron balcony. You have such a gift for photography," Meghann complimented, looking at one photo of herself and Charles.

Traditionally, vampires couldn't be captured on film; they tended to show up as blurry, ethereal images. But Jimmy had patiently superimposed two negatives together, then done a little airbrushing to present Meghann with a photo of her and Charles, arm in arm beside the crumbling tomb of voodoo queen Marie Laveau. It was the first time Meghann had a clear image of herself since she'd been transformed. She grinned at the photo—a young girl with long red hair covered in green, black, and gold beads from the Mardi Gras celebrations—and her dark-haired friend smiling into the camera. Meghann smiled even more at the next picture… the one that Jimmy had set the time delay on his Nikon for so he could rush over and kiss her before the flash clicked.

"Do you remember the legend I told you—that if you leave something by her tomb, she grants your wish?" Meghann's throat closed as she realized what she'd wish for right now. More than anything, she wanted to see awareness flash in Jimmy's eyes. She couldn't stand that damned vacant stare, the way he looked through her.

Patience, Meghann told herself. It's only been two weeks. She got off the bed and scrutinized Jimmy, forcing herself to look at him objectively, see if there was any improvement in his condition.

Certainly, his physical appearance had improved after Meghann took a razor to that awful white hair and bathed him for nearly an hour before she was satisfied that he was clean. She'd been relieved to see the white hair was merely temporary and his normal dark brown hair grew back in after she shaved his head. Thanks to a vampire's quick metabolism, he already had a full head of shoulder-length hair she kept in the ponytail style he used to favor.

She also made an effort to dress him in clothes he'd have chosen for himself. Tonight, he wore a Sex Pistols T-shirt with jeans. One of Meghann's short-term goals was to have Jimmy start dressing himself again, picking out his own clothes from the collection of T-shirts and jeans she'd brought over and stored in a small bureau.

But none of it… not the clothes, the posters she'd nailed all around the small room, the music and books… seemed to have the slightest affect on him. Though the Clozapine kept him from raving, nothing Meghann did reached him, made him respond to her.

Well, what did you expect? a voice demanded. It's only been two weeks. Did you think you'd dress him in jeans and a cool shirt, play Ramones Leave Home, and he'd leap up screaming, "I'm cured"?

No, she hadn't expected that but…

Meghann kneeled before him, taking his slack damp hands in hers. "Jimmy… I need you, baby. You see, I'm… I'm really lonely and scared and I need someone to hold me, to make me feel safe. Damn it, I need someone to look at me like Charles looked at Lee, and you… you don't even know I exist!"

Stop it, Meghann told herself. You get the hell out of this room if you can't control yourself. Don't you carry on in front of Jimmy. If you make him uneasy, you could set him back for weeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and took a deep breath.

But then her control over herself shattered… shattered when she heard Johnny Thunders's nasal, reedy voice mourn softly, "I'm so all alone…"

Blindly, she ran from the room, castigating herself for playing such sappy, sentimental music when her mood had been melancholy to begin with.

She ran for the stairs, thinking she'd just head home, but then she remembered she couldn't go home… Charles and Lee needed their privacy. Besides, who in their right mind would want some pregnant, weepy third wheel around?

"Damn it," she cried and sank down on one of the marble steps. Meghann put her head on her knees and bawled. She had to do something to loosen the lump in her throat that she sometimes thought would strangle her and at least she could carry on in this empty house without anyone being the wiser.

She cried noisily, letting out all her grief and frustration. She cried for Alcuin, feeling as lost as a small child abandoned by its parent now that she didn't have her kindly, wise mentor to guide her. How was she supposed to figure a way out of this horrible nightmare without his advice? If only he were alive, he'd be able to help Jimmy—she was sure he would. And she wouldn't feel so horribly alone if she could just talk to Alcuin one more time. If she could just lay this frightening mess in his more experienced hands, she wouldn't have to worry every minute about Jimmy and the broken mind she was starting to think she might never fix. And she wouldn't have to keep putting on a brave front for Charles's sake or spend all her time trying to thwart Lord Baldevar. Meghann sobbed louder, giving in to the fear she covered with a brittle, cold exterior whenever she saw him. God, she was exhausted—she had no energy anymore; she used it all up in trying to keep Lord Baldevar from reading her thoughts. Meghann shuddered—wondering what would happen if he knew of her constant, gnawing worry that he'd kill her after she gave birth and then her poor baby would be all alone with the monster.

"Yaahhh!" Meghann started at the icy touch to her cheek and looked up to see Lord Baldevar sitting beside her, holding out a dripping cloth.

"Little one," he whispered tenderly before she could say anything, "if you don't stop weeping, you'll break the heart you insist I don't have."

Meghann drew in a shaky, ragged breath. What a fool she was, carrying on like this in Lord Baldevar's house—why hadn't she gotten into her car and driven to some secluded spot where no one would overhear her, particularly this beast?

Meghann glared, not at all fooled by the soft, compassionate gaze or kind words. Simon Baldevar was an opportunist—he'd see her sorrow as a weakness he could exploit for his own gain.

"Leave me alone," Meghann cried, feeling humiliated by the tears that kept pouring out of her eyes. "Just… go away, would you? I'm tired is all. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Leave you to weep by yourself so you can pretend I'm the pitiless fiend you want to hate? I think not. Come here." Lord Baldevar pulled her onto his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder while he held the cold cloth over her eyes.

She wouldn't fight, Meghann told herself. It was bad enough she'd given this monster the satisfaction of seeing her cry; she'd be damned if she'd engage in some physical struggle that she'd lose along with whatever dignity she had left. And she certainly wouldn't take any comfort from the cool cloth over her swollen eyes or the broad chest her cheek was pressed to and she'd die before admitting sitting on his lap was certainly an improvement over the hard marble staircase.

Against her will, Meghann found a drowsy peace descending over her… the choking, horrible grief growing weaker and weaker as Simon crooned the same comforting murmur he'd used to get her through transformation.

Help me, master, she could remember crying through that awful pain and chaos she thought would destroy her before the night was over.

I'm here, Meghann, he'd whispered over and over—just as he did now. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as you remain with me… hold on to me, little one, give me your heart and I'll make the misery disappear.

Lord Baldevar had made the hurt disappear but he hadn't told Meghann the price of his aid… he'd used her agony to bind her to him forever; now a part of her was always open to suggestion from him. Alcuin had explained to her that since Simon's was the voice that got her through transformation, a part of her would always be comforted by him—whether she wanted to be or not.

Finally, her tears abated but Meghann kept her face pressed to the oxford shirt she'd soaked through with her tears, not sure of what she should say or how to behave. This meant nothing, she told herself firmly. It wasn't her fault Simon Baldevar was her master but she wasn't going to let him use that damned blood link to manipulate her any further. She'd dry her eyes, get off his lap, say as little to him as possible, and hopefully walk out of this house without further incident.

Meghann raised her head and said, "Thank you" in a cool, formal way she was proud of though she was dismayed by the hoarse quality of her voice. How long had she been crying?

Lord Baldevar's lips twitched. "You are quite welcome. Do you realize that is the first pleasant thing you've said to me in months? Meghann, must you continue fighting me? I can't stand seeing you so miserable."

"You… you make…" It was on the tip of her tongue to inform him he was the source of all her misery but something made her hold her sharp words back.

Seeing her hesitation, Lord Baldevar took her hand. "The past cannot be changed, Meghann. Does your anger gain you anything but the despair that made you weep alone on my staircase? And why are you here by yourself?"

"I thought Charles and Lee should have some time alone together."

"No doubt you put a smile on your face and assured Doctor Tarleton you didn't need him so he could amuse himself. Well, you may be able to put him off but I am not so easily dissuaded. Please, Meghann. Let me help you. If you cannot love me, can you at least try and end this strife between us… make peace?"

"Peace?" Meghann repeated the word as though she'd never heard it before. Certainly in all this time she'd never considered making peace with Lord Baldevar.

"Simon."

"Huh?"

He gave her a quick grin, one dimple flickering in his left cheek. "If you're going to cry on my shoulder, I'd like it if you'd call me by my first name instead of my title… or any of the unmentionable oaths you've addressed me with lately."

"No!" Meghann shouted. She wouldn't let him back in her life… wouldn't take that perilous first step of addressing him by name, of allowing herself to see him as anything but the vicious, brutal bastard he was. "Leave me alone!"

Meghann scrambled to her feet but her balance on the slippery marble was precarious. In her distress, the agility vampires usually enjoyed abandoned her completely. She lost her footing and would have flown down the staircase if Lord Baldevar didn't grab her.

"Enough of this," he muttered and threw her over his shoulder like a sack. Ignoring her furious protests, he stalked down the staircase, throwing Meghann down on a black divan in the living room.

"Your temper nearly cost you our child," he told her, holding her down when she tried to leap off the divan. "I'm sure you would have come away unscathed but it's very likely a fall like that would cause a miscarriage."

"Good!" she snapped. Irrationally, Meghann hated him more for trying to comfort her. It was so much easier to deal with Lord Baldevar when he was terrorizing her than when he had this pseudo-concern shining in his eyes. She hardened her eyes, intending to say something that would rip away the false mask of compassion he had on and turn him back into the menacing fiend he truly was. "I don't want this baby anyway!"

That statement earned her a look of utter disgust. "Do you think I'm a half-wit, Meghann? Why do you think I put you in that trance? Because I cannot see your thoughts? Don't flatter yourself. I did it because I was deeply insulted that you think I'd believe any woman who risked her life to save some nameless orphan forty years ago would be capable of the callous attitude you display toward your own flesh and blood. Stop wasting my time with these foolish games."

"It's not a game!" Meghann yelled. "I don't want your baby!"

"Is that so?" Lord Baldevar cupped his hand under her chin and gave her a penetrating gaze that missed nothing. "You threw abortion in my face but I have yet to hear you offer me this child to raise by myself after it's born."

Meghann blinked her eyes rapidly, praying he wouldn't see her reflexive horror at the thought of her child being reared by him. "Is that what you want?"

"Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps I'll make you an offer—I hand you your lover after the child is born and you give me my son. Of course, you understand such an agreement would mean you had no right to see the child. And I'll also swear to allow you and your friends to live in peace."

"That's… generous," Meghann managed.

"Isn't it?" He smiled. "So we are agreed?"

"Yes," she said, eyes locked on her hands.

"No, no," he reproved and grasped her chin again so she couldn't look away. "Look into my eyes and say, I don't want my child. You may have him for your own once he's born."

It was a myth that you couldn't lie because you looked someone in the eyes. So why did Meghann stammer and flush when she met his eyes and said haltingly, "I… I don't… want… I don't want… my… damn you!"

Spying a red vase on a black lacquered table beside her, Meghann flung it angrily, watching it bounce off the cream wall and shatter into a thousand pieces.

"That was a Ming vase," Lord Baldevar said mournfully. "Why do you look so downcast? If you want the child, why fight me?"

"Why fight you," Meghann began incredulously. "You idiot—forget it. I don't want a tube in my throat."

"I will not harm you for speaking the truth. Now continue, Meghann. Tell me why you've lied… why you wanted me to think you despised your own child, why you won't come to me when I can see you're so frightened and alone."

"If I were frightened and alone, you'd be the last person on earth I'd turn to. Now, let me go," Meghann hissed. "I'm not telling you anything."

"Someday you'll know I'm the only person you should put your faith in," he answered coolly. "Now, tell me why you're trying to deceive me before I reach into your mind and find out for myself."

When Meghann kept stubbornly silent, Lord Baldevar gazed at her for a few minutes before his eyes widened with shock and something that looked suspiciously like laughter. "Protection? What can you be protecting the child from?"

"You!" she cried, exasperated and past caring what he knew or didn't know.

"But I'm the father."

"No, you're not!" she yelled. "I don't care if you did impregnate me—you will never ever be a father to my baby! My God, do you think I'd let a domineering psychopath like you within ten feet of an innocent child? Have you play your vicious mind games and crush its spirit? Maybe beat it whenever the great lord and master is displeased? I won't have it! I will not allow you to ruin this child's life like you ruined mine. So I guess you better lobotomize me or kill me or do whatever else you have up your vile sleeve, because if you ever hurt my baby you'll answer to me, Simon Baldevar!"

"Meghann," he whispered and now he looked at her, not with rage or derision but admiration… admiration and the beginnings of hope. "Do I understand you correctly? All of this—your vicious remarks and plans to destroy me… of course I know about that! You've done all of this because you think I won't be a good father?"

"Well… yes."

"You delightful, wonderful girl!" Lord Baldevar swung her off her feet, planting kisses all over her face, smiling down at her in pure joy.

"Put me down! Stop slobbering over me! What the hell are you so happy about?"

He didn't put her down. Instead, he reseated himself on the divan, cradling her resisting form against him.

"My Meghann… I always knew you'd be a wonderful mother, so protective of those you love. Stop that squirming… you'll tire yourself. How foolish of me not to see it. Your misconception of me makes you think I'd be an unsuitable parent, so of course you would try to deceive me. And you probably also fear that I'll take the child and never allow you near him or simply kill you once you give birth. What were you planning—give birth under my nose and then flee into hiding with the baby? No, that wouldn't be permanent enough… no doubt I meet with a nasty death once you don't need my blood."

Meghann refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"All right," he said and petted her hair. "You don't trust me yet. I shall simply have to change that."

"How?"

Lord Baldevar raised an eyebrow. "By showing you I mean only the best for you and my son. How else? I'll court you and you'll see all the poison Alcuin filled your mind with is false."

"Court me?" she gasped. If he had said he was going to kill her, she couldn't have been more appalled. "I… I… no! I don't want some vile beast that goes around destroying innocent men in jealous fits of rage courting me. And don't you dare blame Alcuin for all your flaws! He didn't have to tell me anything about you that I didn't witness firsthand…"

"Stop," he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You are right."

"What?" she said dumbly.

Lord Baldevar laughed at her shock and gave her hair a not too gentle tug. "You are right, Meghann. Since I found you at Doctor Winslow's, I've done nothing to present my charms in an attractive light—it's no wonder you fear me. Well, enough of that. Come along, we're going out."

"What do you mean, 'out'?" Meghann demanded when he took her hand and started dragging her out of the living room.

"You may remember the word from the nights before you decided to bury yourself alive. I've had enough of this self-pitying melancholy you've wrapped yourself in."

"Self-pitying," Meghann seethed. "How dare you—"

"I dare, Meghann. I dare because I care far too much to allow the vital woman I adore to remain a hollow-eyed, weepy skeleton and pine away into the grave. If you could only see your reflection. You look more like a death camp survivor than an expectant mother."

"I do not!" she cried, stung.

"Oh, no?" Lord Baldevar raised his eyebrow again, ignoring the scowl Meghann shot him. "Tell me how much weight you've gained since you started drinking my blood, scarecrow."

"One pound," she mumbled.

"I did not hear that."

"One pound." Meghann sighed. She'd been worried about her inability to gain weight—just as Lee was worried. The mortal doctor pleaded with her to eat more but Meghann simply had no appetite, though she did force herself to drink large quantities of milk and eat fresh fruit. "I just haven't been that hungry."

"Of course you aren't hungry. I have no doubt the gloom you've shrouded yourself in makes food taste like straw. Well, enough of that. It's time I rescued you from your depression."

For a minute, Meghann could only splutter in fury but she finally got the words out. "You… you damned fiend! You're the cause of my depression!"

"I am not. You're miserable because you've forgotten how to enjoy the night. I'm going to make you live again."

"Let go of me! I enjoy the night just fine—I don't need you!"

"Is that so? Then tell me what you do with your time besides weep over that thing I reluctantly shelter and mope around Doctor Winslow's house."

"Well, I… uh…"

"I knew it!" When Meghann grabbed at a massive breakfront in the hallway to stop their progress, Lord Baldevar turned and gave her a level stare.

"Can I interest you in a proposition, Meghann?"

"What kind?" she asked suspiciously.

"Not the kind you seem to have in mind," he teased. "All I want from you is the rest of tonight to prove we can exist together in peace. One night in which we see if I can make you laugh or smile again. If at the end of the night you feel as you do now, I shall leave you alone."

"I don't know…" Meghann hedged. How could she even contemplate making peace with Lord Baldevar after what he'd done to Jimmy?

"I thought you loved your child."

"Of course I do."

"Then have you given any thought to what you'll do to our child if you refuse to accept me? Are you going to raise your child to despise his own father or if you never say a word make him miserable when he's caught in an atmosphere of cold hate between us? What does that mind science you're so fond of have to say about that?"

The question threw her. "I… I hadn't thought about it."

"Of course you didn't. You were far too busy plotting for that catamite to sneak up on me and chop my head off while you're in labor." Lord Baldevar laughed at the guilty but defiant surprise on her face and chucked her under the chin. "Don't waste your time trying to defeat me. You'll never succeed."

There was no hint of boast in the quiet voice and Meghann knew he could very well be right Vampires had tried for four hundred years to destroy Lord Baldevar without success. Why should she and Charles be any different? Would it be better for her child to reach some sort of truce with him?

But then… what he was, the awful things he did… he'd influence the baby. And if you give him a hard time, he'll take the baby from you, a voice reminded her. At least if you make peace, you're in the child's life . . . you can counteract his suggestions, make sure the baby grows up with a moral center.

"I'm not going back to being your consort," Meghann said flatly. "Will you take the baby away from me for spurning you?"

Lord Baldevar took her hands. "I can be a great many things to my son but I could never replace the care of a loving mother… nor would I wish to. I want to raise this child with you, Meghann—whether you seek my bed or not. Convince me I can trust you not to go running off and I shall give you physical custody of our son. On my honor as a knight, I promise you that."

"When were you knighted?"

Lord Baldevar rolled his eyes. "During the Armada crisis—but that is not important. What say you, Meghann? Can I have one night to prove myself? After that, if you still cannot stand my company but promise to be civil for the child's sake, I'll leave you in peace."

"All you want is tonight? After that, you'll leave me alone?"

"If you want me to leave you alone, I will."

Meghann could tell by his expression he thought that was as likely as her throwing herself to the sun the next morning, and it was his arrogance that decided her. Did this vain fiend actually think he could charm her out of all her hatred and resentment in one night?

Meghann gave him a deep, mocking curtsy and held out her hand. "Lead the way… Simon."

He grinned at the unspoken challenge in her eyes and kissed her outstretched hand lingeringly. "With pleasure, little one… with pleasure."