CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Meghann started, then smiled at the blurry reflection fat black and goldfish swam through in the clear water of the large stone fountain. "I thought you were busy with all the wheeling and dealing you neglected during our honeymoon."

"I have other matters to attend to now," Simon said huskily and pulled her against him.

What a perfect spot for making love, Meghann thought, taking in the formal sculpture garden with its man-made streams, footbridges, and roses of every color perfuming the air. She looked up at Rodin's The Kiss and thought marble was one thing that couldn't possibly look as beautiful during the day as it did at night when the moonlight illuminated the polished, white surface.

"Now I know what it is," Meghann murmured breathlessly between kisses, twining her hands in the perfectly styled chestnut hair she'd longed to ruffle all night.

"What what is, my love?"

"What makes you so attractive," she said, giving Simon her best smile before licking the skin exposed in the half-open ruffled tuxedo shirt he wore. "Whenever I'm with you, the world has a glamour to it, enchantment."

"I believe it's called being in love, for I feel the same way with you." Simon smiled and pulled her off the fountain with him, one hand exploring her leg while they rolled around on the dewy grass.

"Strawberries and cream," Simon said as he pulled away the velvet laces on her dress and exposed her newly rounded breasts, now topped with bright red nipples. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful."

Meghann smiled at the compliment. When she'd first begun to show, she'd been shy about letting Simon see her thickening body until he convinced her, not with words, but with the ceaseless attention of his lips and hands to her fuller, rounded form that he truly did find her as attractive as ever.

"I love you," she cried when he entered her. What a curious intimacy this was, having Simon take her when his children were inside her. She'd never felt so possessed by anyone, felt herself on the brink of climax when a disturbing sound reached her ears—Louise Caraway angrily demanding that Vinny let her in the house. "Why is she here?"

"I invited her," Simon murmured, thrusting harder at Meghann's suspicious look. "Nothing untoward, little one—a minor business concern. I must meet with her."

"You're not going to stop now?" Meghann gasped.

"I value my life far more than that." He laughed at her horrified eyes. "But we must be quick, pet."

Meghann laughed throatily, and joined him in the never-changing rhythm that made them both scream out in delight.

Meghann found her gown at the feet of Michelangelo's David and tossed it on while Simon pulled his black pants and ruffled shirt on, the elegant dinner jacket hiding the grass stains on his shirt.

"Come along, my lady," Simon said to Meghann after a lengthy search for her shoes that somehow wound up under a privet hedge. "This visit provides me with a perfect opportunity to develop your gifts."

They entered the house through the back, hearing Louise continue to screech. "Get that asshole now!"

"I gather something happened after I left the party," Meghann commented and raised her eyebrows. "Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"

Simon gave an enigmatic shrug, and they entered the foyer together. He dismissed Vinny, and gave Louise/Louetta a mocking bow.

Meghann was shocked by the condition of the mortal in front of her. Even in her jealousy, she could admit Louise had an icy beauty, with her severely bobbed hair, flawless makeup, and tailored clothes. Now she tottered on her feet, her hair spiked wildly in every direction, and she'd obviously done some heavy drinking over the past several hours. What on earth had Simon done to her?

Apparently not nearly enough if she thinks she may show up on my doorstep screaming profanity.

"Louise," Simon said pleasantly. "Won't you introduce us to your friend?" He waved an elegant hand at the hulking mortal standing by Louise. He had to be at least six feet seven—a good three inches taller than Lord Baldevar. All his intimidating glare drew from Simon was the faintest hint of an amused smile.

"He's my boyfriend… I only screwed you because you forced me to but Tommy will make sure you don't put your hands on me again," Louise snarled and turned to Meghann. "You hear that, honey? Your husband told me he'd fire me if I didn't fuck him. But I'm suing him and Del Straker for sexual harassment."

Louise kept her gaze on Meghann, her smug vindictiveness changing to openmouthed shock when Meghann began giggling.

"Simon," Meghann gasped. "I don't believe it… oh, God, you su… su… sued for sexual harassment… ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"I am glad my legal troubles amuse you."

"But don't you see the irony?" Meghann giggled.

"It's almost as good as you getting syphilis! Oh, don't worry," she said to the pale Louise. "It was a long time ago… I'm sure you didn't catch anything."

"I know The Seraglio doesn't want the embarrassment of a trial," Louise said coyly, and Meghann wondered how the mortal could not feel the menace emanating from Simon's steely expression. "I'll settle with you right now if you give me my job back—with a twenty percent raise, of course."

"I could produce a dozen witnesses to testify in court about your calculating promiscuity," Simon said flatly. "Your frivolous lawsuit will be naught but an irritation."

"Don't you threaten her," the strapping bodyguard told Simon, stepping closer to him. "I'll mop the floor with you, you fucking perverted asshole."

"I rather doubt that," Simon replied and delivered a swift chop to the man's throat. He dropped to the floor, a wheezing sound coming from his ruined throat.

Simon gave Louise one withering glance. "Foolish woman, you should have been content with what you had, rather than try to rise above your station with blackmail threats. Now see what your actions have wrought, you white trash slattern."

Louise watched in stunned terror as Simon reached down and pulled Tommy upright with one hand. Her inertia broke and she started screaming hysterically when the majority shareholder for The Seraglio plunged his sharp fangs into Tommy's neck.

"Be quiet," Meghann snapped, and Louise's cries cut off abruptly. Poor Louise, Meghann thought; she thought power meant a position at the hotel—she had no idea what true power was. She'd never know the glory of holding others in your thrall against their will or know what it was to drain them dry and feel your victim die as you grew ever more powerful…

A strangled whimper escaped her lips and Simon looked up, smiling at the blood lust and naked craving that made her green eyes glow like a cat's.

He ignored the trembling Louise and spoke to Meghann. "Come feed, my pet."

When Meghann saw the blood trickling from Tommy's neck, all she could think was how badly she wanted it. Her concentration on Louise wavered, and the mortal started howling.

"Help me!" she screamed and made a wild dash for the door. "Somebody help me!"

Simon grabbed Louise by the hair and gave her an annoyed slap. "Stop that incessant noise at once."

With Louise once again silenced, he pointed to the bleeding mortal on the floor and Meghann felt her blood teeth rip through her gums. "Finish him, little one."

Meghann needed no further invitation. She threw herself on top of the mortal, and plunged her fangs into the wounds Simon had already made, sucking and tearing at her victim's flesh like a woman possessed. She felt an orgasmic rush go through her body when the blood started pouring down her throat.

No nausea attacked her while she devoured her host, hungrily sucking down all his nourishing, hot blood. She'd almost forgotten what it was to feed from a mortal, the heady sensation of life force and vitality invigorating her soul while the blood infused her body with dazzling strength.

Stop now, a voice reprimanded. It was Alcuin's training coming back—his exhortation that vampires take as little from their victims as possible. He's going to die.

You don't have to stop, Simon told her. Drink until he lies dead at your feet. Remember the joy of having no constraint, of drinking until you are sated.

Oh, how well she remembered those nights! Meghann pulled her prey into her arms; they almost looked like lovers except for his rolled-back eyes and the utter whiteness of his skin.

When she felt the man's body go slack in her arms, Meghann reluctantly tore her mouth from his neck, not hearing Louise's horrified shriek when she saw her blood teeth and the blood that covered her from her chin to the exposed swell of her breasts.

"I killed him," Meghann said, running her hand gingerly over his neck. It looked as if a lion had gotten at him! The left side of his neck was a gaping, savage mess of viciously lacerated tendon with small bits of skin clinging to the muscle.

He'll make your soul as bleak and shattered as his own.

Meghann didn't feel bleak—she felt supreme pleasure course through her and remembered from the past she'd remain this way all night. Her body would tingle with the strength she'd gained from her victim and she'd have a hyperawareness that would make the world seem to glow.

With an impatient gesture, Simon tore a strip from Louise's cerulean satin evening gown and handed it to Meghann. "Clean your face, sweet. Are you ready to learn how to use the blood rush?"

At Meghann's nod, Simon dragged Louise into the drawing room.

"Please let me go," Louise begged piteously. "I swear I won't tell…"

"I am not going to do anything," Simon told her and shoved her down on the silver and black chaise longue she'd sat in that night he used her to make Meghann jealous. "Meghann is."

"I am?" Meghann questioned numbly.

"Do you know why I torture my prey? The true source of a vampire's power is the ability to feed on pain, as well as blood." Simon stroked her cheek, and licked the blood on his hand. "I want you to destroy Louise… not by drinking her blood, but by controlling her mind. You're going to feed on her terror the same way you'd feed on her blood. Then, you can take her agony and transform it into strength. That is true magick, Meghann—the ability to derive power from mortal's torment."

"I don't understand," Meghann said.

"You will." Simon smiled. "You are now my apprentice and this is your first lesson." He gestured to Louise, still whimpering on the chaise longue but unable to move because of his iron grip on her psyche. "You agree we cannot let her leave here alive?"

Meghann nodded and Simon went on. "Then here is your task. We cannot mark her or kill her here… too many people know I amused myself with her. I do not care for the headache of diverting mortal authorities if they believe her death was homicide."

"So it has to look like suicide!" Meghann said.

"Close," Simon said. "It has to be suicide, Meghann. Make her commit suicide."

Now Meghann understood. She glanced at a plush black ottoman, and made it move across the floor until it was directly in front of Louise. Then she sat down, looking into the mortal's eyes and holding her hand—the tableau was a grotesque parody of the counseling sessions she used to have with mortal women.

He'll make your soul as bleak and shattered as his own.

"No!" Meghann cried and pulled her hands away from Louise. What was the matter with her? Killing to satisfy her blood lust was bad enough, but Simon was asking her to commit cold-blooded murder.

"Very well," Simon told her and gently shoved her out of the way so he sat across from Louise.

"You aren't mad?" Meghann asked, surprised that he'd let her off the hook so easily—maybe time really had mellowed Lord Baldevar.

"You found the blood lust tonight," Simon replied. "The rest will come in time. Now be silent and learn from what I do."

He gave Louise an open, disarming smile and spoke in soft, even tones—again Meghann was struck by the similarity to psychotherapy.

"You never came here tonight," Simon began. "Do you understand?"

Louise didn't respond like a person under hypnosis—her eyes were clear and focused, her voice steady. "Yes."

"Tell me about that man you came here with. Does he have family? Someone who will miss him?"

"He's just a degenerate gambler."

Simon grinned and in an aside to Meghann said, "That is why I adore this tacky whore of a city in the middle of the desert. There are so many transients, a vampire could feed for decades without arousing suspicion." He turned his attention back to Louise, and continued to mold her mind to suit his needs. "You were very upset at not getting that promotion. But you know that was not my fault. It is because you are incompetent."

"I am incompetent," Louise agreed in the same calm voice.

"You are very sad because you know your life will never be any better than it is tonight. So you have decided to end your life."

Simon smiled at Meghann's wide-eyed astonishment. "I am sorry the morals my uncle infested you with made this exercise impossible. It is a marvelous tool for sharpening your concentration."

He turned back to the mortal. "You will get into your car and drive directly home. Once in your house, you will write a note to your mother, saying I just can't go on. You'll sign it Louetta. After, you will go into the bathroom—do you shave your legs?"

Meghann almost laughed at what seemed like a non sequitur but Simon gestured for her to keep quiet.

"Yes," Louise said.

"Good. After you write your suicide letter… oh, before I forget, tell me the location of that videotape you blackmailed Del Straker with and where you're keeping the duplicates."

"I have a safe deposit box at my bank… 0927."

"Thank you. Once you've written your note, draw yourself a nice bubble bath. Let the warm water soothe you, relax you, then take your razor and draw it across your wrists. Stay in the tub afterward… do you understand?"

"Yes," Louise said without the slightest tremor in her voice. How was Simon doing this? Meghann wondered. Surely nothing could be stronger in the mortal mind than the will to live, the survival instinct.

"Powerful though the survival instinct is," Simon said to Meghann, "it is like flimsy gauze against the will of a vampire that knows how to use the power he gains from the blood rush. Now I must finish up."

Simon went through the commands again and Louise repeated his instructions verbatim when he asked her to. Afterward, without looking at Simon or Meghann, she stood up like an automaton, left the house, and got into her car.

Simon turned to Meghann. "This should only take a half hour or so but I must go to Louise's apartment—keep an eye on her. Suicides should never be left to chance; the survival instinct does make it a risky undertaking. Also, I must retrieve poor Del's tapes. Why don't you go upstairs and freshen up?"

Meghann nodded and Simon disappeared—drawing an envious sigh from her. She missed the astral plane, the ability to fly. Meghann headed for the master suite, looking forward to a long soak in the walnut-lined, claw-foot tub.

She discarded her blood-soaked gown, pinned her hair to the top of her head in a casual knot, and sank into the bath. Meghann leaned her head back, thinking that tonight was the first time in over forty years that she willfully killed a mortal when she fed.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, she wasn't particularly conscience-stricken. But if she was discarding her values, why had she balked when Simon asked her to kill Louise?

Too, she wasn't sure she wanted to kill the next time she fed. But she couldn't tell herself tonight was simply a mistake; she'd taken far too much savage pleasure from the act of killing her host.

Am I going to become a killer again? Meghann wondered. She recoiled from that thought as she would from a physical blow. I don't want to be evil, Meghann thought desperately. I don't want Alcuin to be right, I don't want to wake up some night and find I have no heart.

Her hands flew to her stomach, caressing the hard mound. Will I teach my children to kill? Raise them to regard mortals as nothing more than food? No, I'd never do that.

Simon entered the room silently, admiring the way the dark wood of the tub enhanced Meghann's pale skin and flame-red hair. With the heat from the water turning her cheeks a becoming shade of pink, she'd be absolutely beautiful except for the crease between her eyes that marred her features.

"What troubles you, little one?"

Meghann's eyes flew open. "Louise is dead?" she asked. "What about that man?"

"Vinny has removed him for burial in the desert. As for Louise, she must have driven home in record time. Perhaps, in her—what is your phrase for the hidden mind?—subconscious she harbored a death wish." Simon took her hand. "Sweetheart, why do you frown? What bothers you about killing mortals?"

Meghann held his eyes. "I'm worried that feeling as you do… killing like you do would make me an unfit mother."

Simon eyed her for a few minutes and then posed a question. "Do you consider police unfit parents? Many of them kill regularly."

"That's self-defense," she pointed out.

"And you must drink blood to survive," Simon shot back. "Our children will crave that same sustenance. Will you raise them to believe they're evil, that their need for blood is something shameful?"

"Of course not! But couldn't we teach them to leave their prey alive?"

"You can feed that way if that is your desire," Simon told her, careful to keep any impatience or derision out of his voice. Having Alcuin's tedious doctrine pour out of his consort's mouth was trying but it would be a fatal error to push Meghann. He was not going to repeat the mistakes of the past—this time he'd allow Meghann all the time she needed to develop her power, to understand mortals were no more than a source of food and occasionally amusement for vampires. "I will say one thing more and then the subject is closed. Tonight I saw you shine in a way you have not for decades. I would strongly urge you to put your foolish morals to the side, and revel in what you are—a predator without equal. May I join you, water nymph?"

Maggie!

Meghann went rigid and a sudden sense of wonder filled her pale face and unnaturally wide eyes.

Simon stared down at her, his mouth stretched into a grim, narrow line, but before he could speak Meghann said, "You felt it too?"

He took another look at her eyes, at the sweet, innocent joy radiating back at him, and asked, "Felt what?"

"They moved," Meghann told him, awe tingeing her voice.

"What?"

"The babies!" she shouted gleefully. "They moved inside me… I felt it!" She grabbed his hand, placing it on the center of her soaking wet abdomen.

Simon waited a few minutes, and then felt it… the smallest rippling across her flesh. His hand felt electrified by the brief contact with the new life inside Meghann.

Meghann leaned back in the tub, a dreamy smile still on her face as she wrapped her hands protectively around the children in her womb. "Why did you look like that before—like something bit you?"

"I thought you were in pain," Simon said and Meghann accepted the explanation.

"Charles and Lee," she gasped, an even more dazzling smile lighting her features. "I have to call them… they'll be so thrilled when I tell them the babies moved!"

Maggie!

Meghann simply looked up at him, awaiting his response. Simon gazed hard into her wide, guileless green eyes. No, she could not deceive him like that—Meghann had not heard the low, despairing call.

"Simon?"

"Of course, little one," he said and smiled broadly. "Use the phone in my study. While you share this wonderful news with your friends, I'll attend to business and tell Del Straker he can have Louise's tapes as soon as I have the deed to his beach property."

Meghann rolled her eyes and pulled on a cinnamon silk bathrobe. "Have you ever used videotapes proving statutory rape to snatch an estate before?"

Simon laughed and ruffled her hair. He could not banter too long… that wretched voice might grow strong enough to reach Meghann if she remained nearby much longer. "I'll meet you downstairs, sweetheart."

A half hour later, Simon entered the study and found Meghann comfortably curled up on the large Chesterfield sofa while her dog sat at her feet, gnawing a rawhide bone with fierce concentration.

"Charles told me this was on—I couldn't resist watching for a little while," Meghann explained and cut her eyes to the large-screen television.

Simon settled down next to her. "What are you watching, little one?"

"Horror of Dracula," she said, slapping him on the wrist when he rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a snob. How can you not like Christopher Lee?"

Simon observed the tall, black-caped figure with great, piercing dark eyes and conceded, "He does have a certain presence."

"Business settled?" Meghann asked absently, seeming captivated by a film Simon was certain she'd seen hundreds of times.

"Everything's taken care of," he replied, though he'd been startled for one of the few times in his immortal life when he heard Jimmy Delacroix call for the woman who, with her potions and "talking cure," was defying all precedent and bringing a vampire back from the insanity of transformation.

Or trying to, Simon amended. He was deeply grateful that his children chose such an opportune moment to announce their presence—otherwise Meghann might have heard that small voice calling to her.

Was she ever in love with the boy? Probably not. But Meghann was very much in love with the idea of independence, being her own mistress and answering to no one. That was the one thing Jimmy Delacroix could give her that would make her turn to him; he would never be able to subjugate her as Simon did.

So that left Simon with one alternative—reach into the boy's slowly healing mind and brutally crush the small spark of lucidity within him. Since he could not kill the boy until Meghann gave birth, he would simply monitor him carefully and undo Meghann's work should the need arise.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Hmmn?"

"You just looked so… so pensive."

"Merely puzzled, little one." Simon gestured to the television screen. "This is based on Master Stoker's novel, is it not?"

"Slightly," Meghann admitted, her twitching lips indicating that she was trying not to giggle.

"So that means Castle Dracula is located in Transylvania?"

"Uh-huh," she said, eyes dancing at his mock confusion.

"But, little one, yon vampire has a British accent—not the Romanian one he should. Perhaps Dracula's parents sent him to Oxford in his formative years?"

"Fussbudget," Meghann said and stuck her tongue out.

"Wretched child, I must reprimand you for such disrespectful behavior toward your master." Simon reached out and pulled Meghann beneath him, delighting in the way she melted beneath him.

"Reprimand me again," Meghann murmured when he sat up.

"Watch your movie," Simon replied and pulled her into his lap, thinking it would be most enjoyable to tease her until the end of the film.

"How do you suppose that whole thing started?" Meghann asked at a shot of the vampire rising from his coffin, ready to commence his nighttime activities.

"It is not that difficult to comprehend," Simon said. "I think in reality vampires only wound up in coffins if their masters were careless with their transformation and let mortals see their changing body… you were quite ill the day before I completed your transformation. A hundred years before, without a stethoscope to detect your heartbeat, your family wouldn't have any way to tell you were still alive. So if I didn't reach you in time, into the coffin with you."

Meghann shuddered. "You mean that first night I could have woken up in a coffin?"

"In your time, it's more likely you'd have risen in a funeral parlor, being all made up for your viewing."

Simon took a dramatic pause. "But I awoke my first night as a vampire in a coffin."

"You were in a coffin?" Meghann gasped. "How? Why?"

"You know I stole my transformation blood," Simon said. "Two weeks I hovered between life and death… feverish, growing weaker with each day while Doctor Dee and Doctor Ahmed did all they could to help me."

"And then one day they thought you were dead!" Meghann cried.

"Not quite. Shall I tell you why I woke up in a coffin… how only a few short months after that shocking experience, I had my first battle with Alcuin?"

Meghann nodded, the vampire movie before her all but forgotten as she gave Simon her complete attention.

Simon started his story, smiling at Meghann's wide-eyed, eager stare… all traces of the hate and contempt he'd seen in her since Alcuin first contacted her vanished. She was once again the sweet, lively sprite he'd fallen in love with, and no insane vampire was going to take her from him. Simon knew Meghann's impatient nature well, knew she was frustrated by what appeared to be a lack of progress. Hopefully, she'd agree to kill him before she became aware he was recovering. Without Jimmy Delacroix to cling to, Meghann would be content to remain with her master.