'Take my sister into the anteroom," Mikal said to the mortal and gestured to a secret passage through one of the destroyed mirrored panels. "Do nothing further to harm her and don't drink her blood.

Guard her well and you, fortunate human, shall be my first transformed general. Now go!"

The mortal obeyed immediately, struggling with the burden of Elizabeth's dead weight as he lugged her through the dark passage and disappeared from sight.

Mikal turned to Gabrielle and tossed her a broad sword he scooped up off the floor. He'd had his weapons in an attractive display over the wall behind his desk but they'd fallen to the floor when his anger destroyed the room. "You go and engage Father. Don't kill him ... simply wound him or lead him into this room with your fighting."

Gabrielle nodded and vanished into thin air, never suspecting she was employing a power Mikal did not have.

Mikal shrugged at the condition of his room and took his own sword from the untidy pile on the floor, waiting for his father to appear so he could finally destroy him.

Thirteen

When they were a few miles away from Manhasset, Simon took his eyes off the quiet highway and glanced at Alcuin. While he was certain the priest would kill Mikal to save the innocent Elizabeth, there was another issue that had to be resolved before they reached Mikal's lair.

"I'm certain Mikal doesn't have much immortal support against me," Simon said and Alcuin listened with a grave courtesy quite different from the unyielding condemnation he'd displayed in life toward Lord Baldevar. "When Mikal approached the others and did not offer his blood immediately to seal the bargain, I'm sure they were wise enough to see he was enticing them with false promises and had no intention of parting with his special gifts. Knowing Mikal lor a liar, they would of course refuse to join any battle against me."

Lee Winslow's brow furrowed as the mind possessing his body considered Simon's words. "Mikal can't be the only vampire on the grounds. Why would he confront you alone?"

"He won't be alone," Simon said and there was dear disdain in his tone. "I said he doesn't have immortal support because most of our kind are too smart for him. Unfortunately, even vampires have fools among them that will flock to my son ... as well as those grudging souls that wish to avenge whatever slights they think I've committed against them."

Simon waited to see if Alcuin would make any snide remarks about his long list of enemies, the adversaries that plagued any powerful creature, but the dead priest said nothing, merely staring at Simon with the old watchful calmness that was one of the few things in the world with the power to disturb him.

"I'm sure between us we can subdue any vampires that side with Mikal," Alcuin finally said quietly.

"It is not the vampires that concern me," Simon said and fixed his penetrating gold stare on Alcuin. "My son is a fool in more ways than one—he thinks to build himself a power base by forming a guard of misfit mortals that follow him with the lunatic zeal of crusaders charging against the infidel. They will fight to the death for Mikal and the transformation he promises. Like Mikal and any other vampires there, we must kill those mortals to save Elizabeth."

Simon waited for Alcuin's response with some tension. Would this vampire pacifist balk at Simon's directive and refuse to kill any mortals in Mikal's employ? If he did, Simon would exorcise the priest from Lee Winslow's body immediately and face Mikal alone for Alcuin would be of no use to him unless he agreed to slaughter anyone, mortal or vampire, that had had a hand in abducting Elizabeth.

Alcuin used Lee's thin lips to form a sad smile. "Nephew, you know very little of me, of the path I urge vampires to follow. It is not necessary for me to explain myself to you tonight. Just understand this: I will help you vanquish anyone, mortal or otherwise, who attempts to foil our efforts tonight."

Simon nodded his approval and they continued along the empty road in silence.

"What in the world has he done to my home?"

Simon exclaimed when they pulled up to an elegant whitewashed brick wall that was utterly ruined by a gaudy red, neon sign welded into the middle of it; the sprawling, bright script flashing the words, IMMORTAL LIGHT—A REFUGE FOR CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT.

In disgust, Simon got out of the car and hopped the ten-foot wall, hearing Alcuin jump behind him. Once they got on the grounds, Simon searched in vain for the estate he used to own.

Half the lush Edwardian garden that used to grace the estate was paved over to make an appalling cement parking lot while the other half was a nightmare garden of creeping ivy, fake trees sporting miserable, drooping leaves and wrought-iron tables with spindly matching chairs.

Idly, Simon wondered about the presence of the five black and purple hearses lounging in the parking lot. Was his son considerate enough to ferry his victims to funeral parlors when he was through with them? More likely, they were part of some gimmick to lure customers into this vampiric watering hole. Simon's respect for mortals, always scant, now plummeted entirely when he considered that there were mortals depraved enough to pay to enter this monument to bad taste.

The external changes were bad enough but Simon was most offended by what had happened to his house ... or rather, the destruction of his house. The red-brick central structure flanked by two stately wings no longer existed, its place preempted by an abominable black-shingled, windowless sprawl of a house that looked a demented child's block creation with ungainly, jutting wings.

Idly, Simon wondered what Meghann, with her penchant for the false science of psychology, would make of the windowless residence. Would she think as he did, that the odd dwelling was a reflection of Mikal's grudging, closed-off soul—not allowing anyone to see the emptiness inside him?

'The fool," Simon said contemptuously and Alcuin turned to him, curiosity reflected in Lee's pale blue eyes.

"You call him a fool because he thought to upset you by leveling the house where Meghann conceived?"

"Mikal does not have emotion enough for such motives," Simon laughed unpleasandy. "My misguided offspring did not bulldoze the house to hurt my feelings. Rather, he thinks to obliterate my ability to travel the astral plane by building a house I've never been in. The fool does not realize it is not the house that matters but the ground it is on. I've been here before and I can certainly use the plane at will."

"But I cannot," Alcuin reminded him. "How do you wish to plan our offensive?"

Simon almost smiled at his enemy leaving the planning in his hands. Politics certainly did make the strangest of bedfellows; a vampiric sorcerer working side by side with the creature he'd slain long ago.

I shall appear inside, Simon said, speaking telepathi- cally with full confidence Mikal would not hear him. Already Simon had intuited his son's presence and knew the boy's attention was elsewhere; he had no idea his father was on the estate. There are naught but mortals guarding the downstairs.

Alcuin nodded. If there are immortals with Mikal, they are not near us now.

No matter Simon's dislike for this centuries old enemy, he had complete respect for Alcuin's ability to ferret out any immortal threat. Simon used the plane, feeling a dank blackness surrounding him before he opened his eyes, staring up at a gray stone gothic archway more suited for a medieval cloister than a modern nightclub in his estimation.

A bullet grazed his neck and Simon whipped around, seeing a young mortal woman clutching some automatic brand of gun.

"Priest!" Simon bellowed and spread his hands, lifting his body up and out of harm's way as he sailed at the girl.

Simon focused his power on the girl's hands and she lost control of her weapon, screeching her terror when the gun flew into Simon's hand. He crushed the weapon to pulp within his strong grip, then glared at the girl and wrapped that same inexorable power around her heart. Dispassionately, he watched her face contort in agony before she crumpled to the floor, clutching her heart

Two other mortals, both boys, rushed into the room and abruptly skidded to a halt, watching the deadly tableau of the vampire killing one of their own by simply staring at her. So transfixed were they by Simon's power that they never even thought to use the automatic weapons trembling in their hands.

When the girl took one last, strangled breath, Simon raised his eyes and glared at the boys, his lips curling into a derisive smirk when they simply dropped their guns and ran for the front door.

They threw open the heavy, silver-studded door only to encounter Alcuin, looking on them with profound sadness even as he caused the aneurysms that killed them instantaneously and without the pain Simon made the girl suffer.

From a dark western wing, five more mortals rushed at them, brandishing wooden stakes and making snarling vows to destroy Mikal's enemies.

Simon allowed Alcuin to deal with them while he investigated a low, drumming vibration that reached his keen ears.

Stalking over to a set of closed double doors made of brass and decorated with elaborate wrought-iron handles carved in the form of gargoyles, Simon threw open the doors and took in an immense, too-posh room that was apparently the dance hall of Mikal's club. Simon took in each overdecorated, macabre detail from the red-and-white tiled floor cunningly designed to form a montage of thorny stems and crosses to the crimson upholstered walls with fussy, fake sconces serving as lights and thick black velvet portieres concealing some sort of stage.

In the center of the room, there was a large, circular bar that looked like it had been constructed from tombstones. Simon vaulted over the bar and found a mortal crouching by the mirrored liquor display.

She was a plain child, the little beauty she had marred by the angry puncture wounds dotting her neck and chest. . . was Mikal finally displaying some interest in women?

"Master," she called in a voice that shook almost as much as the hands clutching a switchblade she thrust menacingly at Simon.

Simon glanced at her thoughts and nearly jumped on the shivering mortal, intent on tearing her limb from limb, when he thought of a better punishment. This venal bitch would look upon death as paradise when he was through with her.

"You enjoy disfigurement?" he inquired with deadly softness before he reached into the girl's mind and made her drag the switchblade across her forehead.

"No!" she cried and made a desperate attempt to stop her hands but she was now a puppet in the hands of a creature far more powerful than she. With malicious humor, Simon wondered if the girl still considered it such a dream to encounter vampires as the switchblade she no longer controlled gouged her cheek.

"You will do to yourself everything you did to my daughter," Simon commanded with implacable menace. His jaw clenched violently when he watched the sharp knife cut the girl's pale lips, stab violently through spots all over her face and finally cut out great, clumsy chunks of her mousy brown hair. While she destroyed her face, the girl sobbed helplessly ... sobbed as his precious daughter sobbed this afternoon when Mikal stepped back and allowed this ugly, loathsome girl to take her twisted anger and sick jealousy out on Elizabeth.

"Now the punishment begins." Simon leaned down and concentrated the entire weight of his power on the girl's mind. 'You will get up and walk out of this house, forgetting everything that has happened to you for the past year. Your last memory is running away from your parent's home in Illinois. After that, there is nothing. Now leave!"

Simon watched the bleeding, injured girl walk out of the room, destined to live the rest of her miserable life as a grotesque freak, suffering the punishment she'd tried to inflict on Elizabeth. Even with their immense talent and dazzling tools of skin grafts and plastic, no modern physician would be able to stitch that broken face back together.

Simon swallowed hard, finding it almost unbearable to dwell on the images he'd received from the mortal. .. lovely, sweet Elizabeth crying in pain and terror, completely unable to understand how a boy she'd come to trust could turn into this monster that tortured her.

Simon's one consolation was that Meghann was not here, would never know the extent of their daughter's suffering, the pain and humiliation Elizabeth endured at her brother's hands. The knowledge of Elizabeth's pain was something Simon would carry to his grave.

He could spare Elizabeth, as well as Meghann, once he found her. Before transformation, Simon would hypnotize Elizabeth, remove every element of the terrifying afternoon from her mind so she remembered nothing. It would be like it never happened, no shameful memories would cast their shadow over his daughter's life.

"There is a nobility in you I never guessed at, Simon Baldevar," Alcuin said with something in his voice Simon had never expected to hear—respect. "Why not concentrate all your ability on finding Elizabeth and healing her instead of lowering yourself to the level of these savages by feasting on their pain? It is not your place to punish them."

"And whose place it?" Simon demanded. "That of your omniscient god? He moves too slowly for my taste, Priest. Enough debate—I must find Elizabeth."

Elizabeth, Simon called, reaching out into the void surrounding him. It did not surprise him when there was no answer to his repeated calls. Elizabeth had retreated to a place where no pain would reach her and would not leave it easily, even to answer the signal of a worried father. Meghann, no doubt, could have connected with her daughter easily. Simon, lacking the bond Meghann had formed with their child, would have no choice but to explore this house until he found some sign of Elizabeth.

"Simon!" Alcuin shouted and Simon moved quickly but not quickly enough to evade the cold touch of steel to his throat. His attacker must have appeared behind him or Alcuin would have disabled the vampire before it reached Simon.

The body pressed against his, despite the rigidity bought on by tension, had the supple softness of a woman ... a very shapely woman whose body Simon had used many times at his leisure.

"Gabrielle," Simon greeted his unseen captor neutrally "Who else would join my feckless son but the whore I scorned so thoroughly?"

"Bastard!" she shrieked just as Simon expected her to and he used her lapse of concentration to wrap his foot about her ankle and trip her. Gabrielle fell to the floor in a graceless heap and her sword slipped off his neck with naught but a slight nick.

Gabrielle spun away from him, dashing out of the room at breakneck speed with Simon at her heels, Alcuin fast behind him. Simon did not have to tell the priest that Gabrielle was leading them to Mikal, as he'd no doubt ordered her to do. Mikal thought he was leading his father into a trap but he did not know of the formidable magus Simon brought with him.

The house was a bizarre, mazelike structure of confusing doorways and spiraling staircases that Simon sensed led to dead ends. There were signs pointing to various amusements until Gabrielle took a sharp left turn and the look of the house became more businesslike with storage rooms and darkened offices.

Now Gabrielle was running toward an open door. Simon let her nearly pass through it before he removed a sharp dirk from the small of his back and flung it through the air, watching the weapon find its target with deadly accuracy as it setded between her shoulder blades.

Simon heard a gargled moan and knew the knife had found some portion of her heart, enough to render Gabrielle immobile and helpless unless someone removed the dirk. He watched the doorway for a few moments to see if Mikal would come to her aid but

Gabrielle remained on the floor, moaning and making a vain effort to crawl into the room.

He waits for you, Alcuin said. We must get past him to find Elizabeth.

Simon nodded, knowing his daughter was nearby; the entryway to her prison was within the room where Mikal lurked. Simon felt his son now, felt the familiar aura of unpleasantness that enshrouded Mikal's soul.

Simon could have tried flying the plane to evade Mikal, but he had not come here merely to find Elizabeth ... he must also kill this thing he'd spawned so Mikal would never present a threat to Meghann or Elizabeth again.

I shall go in now, Simon said. Mikal will lunge at me immediately. When he does so, enter the room and restrain him.

Not waiting for a reply, Simon stalked to the open door, his sword drawn and ready. He looked past the prone Gabrielle and shook his head at the wrecked room. What had disturbed the volatile creature now? Mikal was so prone to senseless rages; it was part of the sickness Simon had sensed in him since he was a child. He should have killed the boy when he first sensed the jarring wrongness within him, but for once Simon disdained logic and made a decision based on nothing but a futile hope the child would change as he grew older.

Simon was not so simple minded that he'd step through the open door and allow Mikal to leap on him. Rather than use the astral plane, as Mikal probably expected him to do, Simon glared at the walls on either side of the doorway and focused on crumbling them. Surprisingly, it took more energy than Simon expected and his head throbbed uncomfortably by the time large cracks appeared in the walls, bringing down sections of the wall so Simon could leap through a jagged hole on the left side of the doorway.

His feet had barely touched the ground when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and a heavy desk came rocketing toward him. Simon ducked the object and then glared at it, making the thing crash against a wall and shatter into a thousand harmless pieces.

With a high-pitched screech, Mikal rushed out of the darkness, attacking his father with a sword Simon had given him for his tenth birthday. Father and son batded for a few moments before Simon roared, "Alcuin!" and heard the wounded Gabrielle gasp behind him.

The thin black strips Mikal called pupils dilated at the sight of a man he knew as Lee Winslow, sword in hand, advancing on him with the expertise of a medieval knight.

At first it appeared this battle would proceed as Simon expected it to. He and Alcuin were able to corner Mikal, Simon knocking his son's sword out of his hand and Alcuin raising his blade to cut the boy's head off. He'd been right to invoke Alcuin .. . now Simon would not need to drain his energy by summoning daemons to restrain Mikal while he killed him.

Then Simon noticed the sword Alcuin held trembled violently and the priest looked dismayed, almost ill as he turned frightened eyes to Simon.

Alcuin opened Lee Winslow's mouth to speak and in that moment, all the priest's age old wisdom faded from Lee's eyes and Simon knew Alcuin's spirit no longer occupied Lee's body. Something had forcibly driven him from Lee's body and now Simon's only aid against his son was a novice vampire blinking confusedly, not knowing where he was or why he held a sword.

Bewildered by this turn of events, Simon could only gape as Lee mumbled, "Simon" in a disoriented manner.

Saying Simon's name were the last words Lee Winslow ever spoke. Recovering his wits quicker than his father, Mikal grabbed his sword off the floor and managed to behead the perplexed new vampire.

As Mikal's sword reached Lee's neck, Simon got his own sword up to try and block the move but Mikal drove his foot into Simon's shin.

Simon muttered a swift oath when his shinplaster broke under Mikal's daunting strength and he spun away before Mikal could use the sword on him.

Lee Winslow's body had not even hit the floor before Mikal launched himself at his father, limping because his leg would take another minute or so to heal. But even wounded Simon could handle himself in a duel and deflected each deadly blow Mikal attempted to land.

"Foolish father," Mikal growled, looking more snakelike than ever as his strange eyes contracted and narrowed. "You think I didn't learn from our last loving encounter? I knew you'd resort to your wizardry but I expected more daemon soldiers ... I didn't think you'd bring some necromantic slave to my home! Who occupied Lee's body?"

"Your father called him Alcuin," Gabrielle moaned from the floor while Simon blocked a thrust to his heart and then used his sword to push Mikal away from him.

"Alcuin?" Mikal said and laughed nastily, spinning near Gabrielle and yanking the knife from her back. "Well, Father, I must applaud your ingenuity ... using your old foe to kill me. But Father, I am so much smarter and more resourceful than you. Use your so- called sharp senses and feel the strong material supporting these walls. It is steel, Sire. Did you not tell me spirits cannot stand steel... that your way of controlling your precious daemons was to threaten their essence with imprisonment in a steel box? I knew if I reinforced one room in this house with steel, you could not invoke those damnable imps of yours! To think I unwittingly saved myself because your puppet man could not sustain possession in my steel embrace!"

Inwardly, Simon cursed his own stupidity. He'd been so focused on slaughtering Mikal and rescuing Elizabeth that he completely failed to perceive the presence of steel in this house. Now Mikal and Gabrielle, hurt but able to clutch a sword, were advancing on him, attempting to corner him as he and Alcuin had done to Mikal.

But Simon had one more weapon up his sleeve ... the truth.

Simon gave Gabrielle an inviting smile that widened at her suspicious glare. "My dear strumpet, you are hurt. Don't you need blood to regain your full strength? Why not drink from my son . . . that is, if he'll let you."

"I said after he's dead," Mikal said swifdy and flinched at his father's cutting laughter.

"You lying litde fraud," Simon mocked his son and turned again to Gabrielle. "Don't you see this young whelp will never offer you his blood, not now when you are wounded or ever? He cannot let you drink it even if he wanted to. Mikal's blood is poisonous ..."

"No!" Mikal yelled and ran at Simon, only to be blocked by Gabrielle who planted her body between lather and son.

'You know I am right," Simon whispered, thinking how easy it was to manipulate women as he wrapped his arms about her hand-span waist. Smothering a quick grin when he thought Meghann might not approve of this strategy at all, Simon kissed the exposed, l ose petal soft skin of Gabrielle's shoulder and spoke in the low, honeyed tones of a lover while Mikal looked on in frustration. Mikal knew if he raised his sword to Gabrielle, he'd be giving his father the perfect opportunity to cut off his own head while he was occupied with the female vampire.

"Think, Gabrielle," Simon purred in the silvery whisper he'd used shamelessly on women his whole life to get whatever he needed from them. "Have you seen Mikal transform anyone, immortal or human? The boy's blood is toxic ... I know because I've attempted to drink it. How do you think he got away from me? I swallowed his blood and could not chase after him in the sickness that followed. Mikal's blood only makes us ill; we cannot absorb his power by drinking of him. So why not kill the idiot boy before he exposes us to mortal scrutiny with his moronic plans to take over the world?"

To Simon's complete amazement, he saw Mikal grow pale and his lips curled into a distressed pucker, that of a child who is told something he desperately wanted is out of his grasp. So Mikal thought he could transform, still harbored fantasies of creating his own loyal, immortal army.

Halfwit, Simon thundered at the boy and saw Mikal's hands tremble with impotent rage as his father smiled coldly. The dead mortals, did you think them an accident ? What of my illness when I drank from you ? Your blood is worthless. . . just like you.

Mikal's face went nearly purple with fury and Simon heard several flat, loud cracks resound through the room and glanced at the walls, expecting them to crumble under whatever assaults Mikal inflicted, but it soon became apparent it wasn't the room Mikal was trying to destroy.

Gabrielle stiffened abruptly, emitting a shrill, startled cry of pain and fear as every bone in her body simultaneously broke.

"Worthless, am I?" Mikal screamed and launched himself at his father again. "Can you break a skeleton with the mere power of your thoughts, Father, or are you confined to damaging inanimate objects?"

No, he could not use telekinesis to crumble the bones of an immortal opponent—before tonight Simon had never known a vampire who could. Mortals, yes, their hearts and bones were pulp to a vampire, but breaking down a vampire's defenses to destroy their body with mere force of mind was unheard of. What was more unsettling was that Mikal could use this power with such litde effort he was able to engage in swordplay at the same time Gabrielle slid to the floor, rendered by Mikal to a gelatinous, shapeless puddle of skin, muscle, and hair.

Simon focused his mind on Gabrielle briefly and was astonished to find she was still alive, though with no more awareness than that of a severely hurt animal. Given a vampire's restorative powers, it was possible her bones might knit back together, but she would certainly need blood to accomplish such a trick. Even if Simon was inclined to save the life of a trollop that had a hand in abducting his daughter, there was no way he could have broken off his battle with Mikal to assist Gabrielle.

Then Simon felt something icy enter his own body, attacking his wrist with the force of a sledgehammer, and knew Mikal was trying this same trick on his father.

"No!" Simon screamed and concentrated every ounce of power he had on the invasive power, immersing himself in it and then expelling the intrusive force from his body, making it rebound on the one that attacked him.

It was Mikal's turn to scream in outraged surprise when his own left wrist cracked, unfortunately not the hand clutching his sword or Simon would have had the perfect opportunity to decapitate him.

With a drastic change of emotion typical of all madmen, the rage vanished from Mikal's bright silver eyes and they became calculating as he smiled at his father.

"Shall we sing truce, Father?" Mikal questioned as they circled each other warily, neither opponent ready to launch a new offensive strike.

'Truce?" Simon laughed to cover the sense of relief he felt when he finally detected some sign of Elizabeth. She was somewhere behind one of these walls, guarded by a frightened mortal. His daughter was badly hurt, barely alive, but the more Simon concentrated on her presence, the more he was certain transformation could save her. "What do I stand to gain by settling with you?"

"Your daughter," Mikal smiled. "Come, Father, lay down your sword and I shall allow you to remove Elizabeth from my home."

'Your home?" Simon questioned sarcastically. "Useless whelp, what industry have you ever worked at to earn the funds to purchase this land? This estate was bought with the monies you stole from me like a common thief. That makes this my home and I fully intend to destroy you like any unwelcome trespasser."

For once, stinging words didn't drive Mikal into one of his howling tantrums. Instead, he mimicked his father's mocking grin and said calmly, "Gabrielle served some useful purpose before she died." Contemptuously, Mikal kicked the boneless lump of flesh at his feet. "You and Meghann have a history I knew nothing about."

"And was none of your business." Simon moved a bit closer to his son, trying to get within striking rage but the boy slithered a few feet away, careful to stay in the center of the room and not blunder into any corners.

"It is none of my business that my own mother attempted to kill you and you were such a soft-hearted fool you forgave her? Father, I know now why you brought that vampire zombie with you, why you tried to turn Gabrielle against me. You cannot kill me anymore than you could kill Meghann ... you're utterly incapable of destroying those you love, no matter what they do to you!"

"You think I love you?" Simon's tone was so low there was something almost gende about the withering condescension in his voice. "Love a misguided brute that uses his own sister to satisfy his twisted needs? It's quite true that I love Meghann. But that love is precisely what makes your own life forfeit, idiot boy. Do you think I will allow anyone to live that threatens her safety?"

"You do not fool me, Father." Mikal tried to sound as detached and scornful as his father, but his silver eyes blazing with injured vanity and tightly pursed lips told another story. "How many opportunities have you had to destroy me? You squandered every last one of them. I know you cannot bring yourself to kill me but, be warned, I have the power to slay you. You are powerless in this room, Father. Your magic is of no use to you and you do not have even a tenth of my strength. Prostrate yourself before me and I shall allow you to save your daughter ... and the mother I have no doubt is hurrying here."

"I prostrate myself before no one," Simon said coldly, surprising Mikal with a sudden kick at his breastplate. Moving with the swift reflexes Simon had taught the miscreant, Mikal put up his sword to block the attack and Simon pulled back.

"Why won't you even consider my offer, foolish Father?" Several shards of glass flew at Simon but he easily evaded them by leaping high in the air as he directed a large chunk of plaster at his son's head. Mikal ducked out of harm's way, the assault and counterassault resulting in another stalemate between father and son.

"You offer peace because you know you're defeated." Simon came at Mikal, forcing his son back with a series of harsh, swift blows. Mikal managed to hold onto his sword but Simon saw his eyes narrow with concentration, knew his son could not duel him and focus his attention on another telekinetic attack. "You did not know you cannot transform others. I know how your mind works, megalomaniac boy. You thought you could build up some army of vampires with your power, didn't you? Now you know you'll not have a single ally. That means no one to defend you during the day and nothing but enemies at night. If one of us does not kill you, the mortals may be able to accomplish your assassination during the day. You have no one at your back, Mikal. You're finished."

"Never!" Mikal yowled as he met his father's assault with, if not equal skill, equal intent to fight to the death. In all the deathly quiet house, the only sounds were steel clanging against steel as the two vampires launched into each other with renewed hatred, each filled with the same malevolent determination to destroy the other.

Fourteen

"Maggie, look . . . they're towing the cars away. Traffic is moving again!"

Meghann put the car in Drive for the first time in twenty minutes and viciously hoped the drunken mortal that caused the accident that trapped her and Jimmy on the Long Island Expressway would spend the rest of his miserable life trapped in a wheelchair. It was incomprehensible that she might lose everyone she loved because a traffic accident prevented her from reaching them in time.

Meghann!

"Jesus Christ!" Jimmy grabbed the wheel when Meghann bolted upright, her face devoid of color but for the emerald eyes bright with pain. Narrowly they missed a collision when the block-long Cadillac swerved into the left lane. "Maggie?!"

"My chest! My chest!" she gasped, hands fluttering up to her heart. "Oh God, it hurts... can't breathe ... feel like someone stabbed me ..."

"Hang on," Jimmy said and guided the Caddy into the breakdown lane while Meghann panted miserably, trying to force air past the monstrous pain radiating from the center of her heart.

Jimmy turned the engine off and helped Meghann stretch out on the long, cream leather seat. He pulled her T-shirt up and then said uncertainly, "Maggie, there's nothing the matter with you."

"Huh?" Meghann got her hands up and inspected the skin around her heart, stunned when she felt no wound or blood, just a slightly elevated heartbeat.

"Thank God, "Jimmy said when she sat up slowly, still feeling a nasty ache in her chest. "I thought you were having a heart attack or something. Maggie, is it possible that this was a psychic attack . . . that Mikal hurt you the same way Baldevar hurt me last night?"

Meghann started to say yes, that was entirely possible, and then she remembered the scream she'd heard just before she felt the pain—how the masculine voice calling out to her was filled with raw despair and panic . . .

"Simon!" she yelled. "Simon, no . . ."

"Maggie!"Jimmy gave her a rough shake, speaking in a firm, no-nonsense voice that cut through some of her blind fear. 'Talk to me ... we don't have time for you to faint or throw a fit. What is it? Was Baldevar hurt?"

"I think Mikal impaled him or stabbed him or something. I felt it," Meghann said and ran her hand over her undamaged heart. 'Jimmy ..."

"Is Baldevar dead?" Jimmy demanded and Meghann knew what he was thinking. If Mikal had killed Simon, there was no one left to protect Ellie with the possible exception of Lee.

"I don't think Simon's dead," Meghann replied, but she couldn't be sure if that conviction was based on the psychic link she thought was still unbroken by death or was she merely deluding herself with desperate hope? 'Jimmy... come on, dammit! We have to get to Mikal's . . . there isn't a second to waste.

Simon . . . he's dying, I know he is! And who knows what Mikal's done to Ellie? Jimmy, I can't feel her anymore. It's been hours since she called out to me! I don't know if she's unconscious or... oh, God, we have to hurry!"

"Shove over," Jimmy said and gendy moved her to the passenger seat "Keep calm, Maggie. We're about twenty minutes from Manhasset now. Five, the way I'm planning to drive."

Jimmy roared through the night while Meghann huddled miserably, straining to establish a telepathic link with her husband or daughter. Ellie and Simon ... she couldn't lose them both! Meghann couldn't conceive of living in a world where her child no longer existed.

And Simon ... Simon! This was supposed to be our time, Meghann thought, feeling bitter, salty tears run down her face and land on her lips. Simon was supposed to come back to me ... to Ellie and me . .. once Mikal was a grown man. We were supposed to be at peace; I was ready to welcome Simon back.

God, please hear me, she prayed. Maybe Simon Baldevar has committed terrible sins and you might not care if he lives or dies but I care! Please, God. I know there's good in him... look how he charged after Ellie. He can be good. I'll make him good, God, if you just help me save him. And Ellie.. .you see what a wonderful girl she is. You can't take her away when she's barely had a chance to live. Spare them both, God. You've already taken Charles, my dearest friend . . . isn't that enough?

Meghann knew her prayers were superstitious ramblings, childlike in their simple desire for some all powerful deity to fix her problems, but she couldn't help herself. What else could she do but pray when she was stuck in this car that Jimmy gunned to one taking him further and further down, Ellie's face became a sharp contrast to the darkness all around him. He saw her chestnut hair spread against the light-blue pillow cover, her flushed cheeks and gleeful eyes as he put the diamond on her finger. Ellie, he thought. Ellie...

Then he felt something like the cutting wind that blew off the Atlantic Ocean in winter months and, remembering Maggie's edict, kept his eyes firmly shut as he focused on finding Ellie.

The wind died and Jimmy opened his eyes a slit, bemused when he found himself in a dark room instead of standing by the brick wall outside with Maggie. So he'd finally traveled the astral plane! It was no big deal, Jimmy thought, over so quick you hardly knew what was happening. Aside from the cold wind, Jimmy had no sense of going into another dimension, of his body breaking down into the incorporeal spirit that traveled the astral plane.

As Jimmy's eyes adjusted to the oppressive darkness, he began to make out details of the cramped room with steel walls that was no larger than a broom closet but so heavily shadowed he couldn't be certain of his hand in front of his face.

Jimmy inched forward and his foot brushed a soft lump that felt like human flesh. Jimmy bent down and pulled a Zippo lighter out of his jean pocket— this was the first time since he transformed that he encountered darkness so thick his vampire eyes couldn't pierce it entirely.

The blaze of light from the cigarette lighter revealed a short, pudgy mortal boy—couldn't be any older than fifteen judging by the peach fuzz on his face. Jimmy put two fingers on the boy's neck, surprised when he noted the kid was still alive but unconscious. Inspecting his body for injury, Jimmy felt a massive lump at the back of his skull. Someone, maybe Baldevar or Lee, hit this kid with force enough to incapacitate him but keep him alive.

But why not kill him? Jimmy frowned when he noticed a long wooden stake clutched in the boy's slack hand. None of this made any sense . . . keeping the kid alive or that he was here in the first place.

Maybe this Mikal wasn't such a threat after all. What kind of vampire was dumb enough to use mortals for defense? Sure, Maggie had trained Jimmy to slay vampires but that was only during the day, when they were insensate and vulnerable. It had been understood from the beginning that Jimmy wouldn't go near a vampire at night—he'd never have a chance. So why was Baldevar's kid keeping a mortal around, arming him with a wooden stake that would do as much good as a swizzle stick? An entire platoon armed with Uzis could come at a vampire and they'd all be dead within five minutes flat. Didn't Mikal know that?

Jimmy shrugged off his bafflement—what did it matter what Mikal knew or didn't know? Jimmy should be grateful the kid was an idiot; it would make saving Ellie and Lee that much easier.

Then Jimmy looked to the right of the mortal's head and decided Mikal wasn't an idiot at all, more like a rotten, cruel, sonofabitch that he'd kill at the first opportunity.

"Ellie!" he cried and crawled over to a corner of the room, yanking on the stark white foot he'd noticed out of the corner of his eye.

"Ellie, my God, who did this to you? I'll kill him with my bare fucking hands . . . oh, God, Ellie." Jimmy wasn't aware of the tears streaming down his face as he took Ellie's battered, naked body into his arms.

His hands shaking, Jimmy took her pulse and had a moment of serious terror when he felt nothing—but then there was a weak sort of blip ... Ellie was hanging on by a thread. Helplessly, Jimmy took in the beautiful chestnut hair hacked off to her skull and irregular bald patches all around her head. Her hair wasn't the worst of it, though. Turning Ellie around, Jimmy discovered she'd been flogged. There wasn't an inch of flesh on her that wasn't bruised or cut, blood still trickling out of some of the worst wounds like the obscene graffiti on her stomach. Opening her mouth, Jimmy was appalled to discover her front teeth had been knocked out.

"Baby," Jimmy cried and took off his shirt, not wanting Ellie to be humiliated by her injured nudity any longer. His first thought was that he should get Ellie to a hospital but another glance at her body made him discard that idea. Jimmy wasn't a doctor but he knew Ellie had lost a great deal of blood and the weakening heartbeat told him she might not survive long enough for him to get her to a hospital and some of her wounds, especially the deep cuts on her face, looked like they'd create permanent scars. There was only one thing Jimmy could think of that would restore Ellie's strength and heal her completely—transformation.

But Jimmy didn't know shit about transformation ... except that his own had led to a psychosis he'd never have recovered from if not for Maggie. What if Jimmy fed Ellie his blood and she went crazy? Worse, what if her wrecked body couldn't handle the shock of transformation and she died? But she was going to die anyway; he had to at least try and heal her. But maybe he should pick Ellie up and try to find Maggie ... or Baldevar. Yes, Baldevar! Jimmy might despise him but he knew Simon Baldevar was an expert at transformation; he'd apply all his skill and guide Ellie through the process safely.

Jimmy gathered Ellie up, intent on carrying her out of the room and setting off in search of Lord Baldevar, when he noticed a thick, black patch on the floor next to her. At first, Jimmy thought it was Ellie's blood but then he sniffed harder and inhaled the thick copper potency only a vampire could produce.

Gently lowering Ellie back to the floor, Jimmy swirled a finger in the blood and brought it to his tongue, almost gagging when he tasted the same blood that had turned him into a vampire nearly twenty years ago.

This was Simon Baldevar's blood! So where the hell was he? Jimmy knew nothing short of death would have taken him away from his injured daughter. Reswabbing his finger, Jimmy drank more of the blood, trying to receive some psychic impression of what had happened in this room before he arrived.

As he drank, fuzzy, dreamlike images swirled through Jimmy's mind. He saw Baldevar clutching a sword and using the hilt to strike the mortal standing guard over Ellie—of course! Now Jimmy knew why the kid was still alive. Simon Baldevar had every intention of transforming his daughter; the first thing a new vampire needed was a huge quantity of fresh mortal blood. This lowlife kid helping Mikal was intended for Ellie's first feeding.

So what happened? Why hadn't Baldevar been able to transform Ellie? Jimmy drank more of Baldevar's blood but received nothing but a hazy feeling of great pain . . . that must be the pain that made Maggie scream out in the car and clutch her heart.

Now Jimmy understood everything. Baldevar had gotten into this room and plowed through the mortal watching over Ellie. But then Mikal got the better of his father somehow, injuring him before he could transform Ellie. Jimmy had no idea if Lord Baldevar was dead or not... he only knew that he was Ellie's last chance for transformation.

Jimmy's mind raced, frantically trying to recall everything Maggie or Charles ever told him about transformation, remembering the miserable circumstances of his own transformation. First, a mortal had to be drained of their own blood to the point of death or they'd reject the vampiric transfusion. A glance at Ellie's white, bloodless face and the vicious puncture wounds dotting her neck, breasts, and thighs told Jimmy that phase had already been accomplished.

Jimmy knew transformation had a better chance for success if the candidate was in peak physical condition. Poor Ellie was about to die but Jimmy hadn't been in much better condition when Baldevar transformed him so there was proof an injured person could survive the process.

The last step was to make the drained mortal drink the blood of a vampire host. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy tried to will his blood teeth out and cursed when nothing happened. Jimmy's fangs had only ever descended when he was in the grip of blood lust and now, with nothing to entice him, the blood teeth remained firmly lodged in his gums.

Frustrated by this unexpected obstacle, Jimmy pulled a switchblade from his leather hip holster and used it to cut his wrist open. An angry fountain of dark, thick blood spouted out and Jimmy forced

Ellie's jaws apart, putting her open mouth to his bleeding wrist. He propped her unconscious body up into a sitting position so she wouldn't choke on the blood pouring down her threat.

Ellie's body spasmed violently, as though he'd just applied jumper cables to her heart. Her eyes flew open, only the whites showing as they rolled into the back of her head, and the awful convulsing grew so bad Jimmy could barely keep her still.

"Ellie!" he shouted, struggling to hold her down with one hand while the other hand remained at her mouth. He wasn't sure how much blood she needed to drink to transform, so he decided to let her feed until the wound closed up on its own.

Ellie gave no indication she was aware of him, merely shaking like she was in the grip of a grand mal seizure while deep, animal-like grunts issued from her throat.

"Ellie!"Jimmy shouted again and then felt something take him over, something he'd never be able to describe to anyone else or understand fully as long as he lived.

Whenever he fed, Jimmy felt some connection with his prey, their thoughts and feelings. Maggie and Charles had taught him to focus on those emotions, saying he'd have a much greater resistance to the blood lust if he remained aware of his prey as a person with a life he had no business ending.

So Jimmy was used to experiencing a psychic link when he fed but it was nothing compared with what he felt when he allowed someone to drink his blood. Now Jimmy understood the dark intimacy behind bloodletting, why Maggie and Simon Baldevar were so eager to drink from each other while they made love.

Sex was wonderful but it didn't plunge Jimmy into

Ellie's soul, make him feel almost welded to her as she devoured his blood. It seemed there'd never been anything in the world but Ellie, her mind and soul opening up to Jimmy just as his opened to her. No thought was secret between the two of them. Jimmy's shared blood mingling with Ellie's, irrevocably changing her from mortal to vampire, bonded them together forever, made them think as one, feel as one.

Jimmy felt like he was inside Ellie, almost felt like he was Ellie just as in some weird way she was him. He felt her sickness as he fed her his strength, felt her fear and forced her to drink of his confidence, felt her great pain and wrenched it away from her, taking it into his own strong, healthy body where it was broken down and banished forever.

There weren't exactly words between him and Ellie—what they shared now went far beyond that. But as Ellie continued to drink, Jimmy felt himself plunged into a gray kind of nothingness, a world of gauze and confusion . . . the world Maggie had rescued him from when she restored his mind.

No, Ellie!Jimmy thought he shouted, desperately trying to hold onto her. You can't stay here. It's dangerous! Come back to me, come back.

I'm scared, Ellie answered back in the eerie, soundless way that was the way of this world. I don't want to hurt anymore; it hurts so much ... let me go, let me go!

No! Swallowing his fear, Jimmy plunged into the chaos that had claimed him after he drank Simon Baldevar's blood. Better than anyone else, Jimmy understood this place of living death where shadows trapped you as tightly as straitjackets, using fear as their restraints. Jimmy knew what it was to be held prisoner by your fear, that the seductive appeal of this half-there world was the promise that you'd never have to be afraid again.

But you 'll never feel again either, Ellie, if you stay here. You 'll never love, you 'll never be. Your life will be over; you 'll just be an empty shell marking time until you die. Jimmy didn't actually say those words but they were the sentiment behind the emotion he tried to convey to his poor, hurting lover. Ellie, please come away from here. Come back to me. I'll love you and heal you and so will your mother. Ellie, please, you have to come back to us. You 'll be a vampire now—no one will ever hurt you like Mikal did again.

Jimmy, I want to come back, I do! But I can't find my way—I'm lost.

Come to me, Ellie, Jimmy said and strained with all his might to clutch the shivering little bit of Ellie's essence. I love you, baby. Come to me, give me your hand I'll get you out of here; I promise.

Suddenly Jimmy felt something rush at him, almost strangle him as it wrapped around his soul and clung to him. For a moment, Jimmy thought it would pull him down and he and Ellie would both drown in this horrible place but Jimmy forced himself to concentrate on the real world, cutting through the layers of fright and panic like a swimmer attempting to break through the water and reach the blessed surface.

"Jimmy?"

Blearily, Jimmy managed to get one eye open, feeling as lethargic and weak as a mortal with a serious flu. "Ellie? Ellie!"

Shock propelled Jimmy out of his lassitude, making him sit up with his eyes bulging out as he took in the transformed Ellie. Already she'd healed so much that her face was clear of wounds, save for a few pink scratches that looked like the remnants of faded scars. Her chestnut hair completely covered her scalp again and she had a third set of front teeth to replace the ones Mikal had punched out... along with two new, sharp pointy ones that cut into the tender flesh of her lower lip.

'Jimmy, what's wrong with me?" she cried and he noticed the goose bumps covering her skin, the way she wrapped her arms around herself while she shivered uncontrollably.

Jimmy felt her sickness, her need, and a surprising pang of regret when he realized he'd have to initiate Ellie into her new life.

"It's blood lust," he said as gently as he could and wrapped his arms around her, guiding Ellie to the unconscious mortal. "Honey, drink from him ..."

Ellie needed no further encouragement. Bemused, Jimmy fell back when Ellie threw off his grip and fell on the unconscious boy, ripping into his flesh with all the frenzy of a starved vampire. Greedily, Ellie tore into his neck and drank the blood in great, thirsty gulps.

Mentally snooping for the first time in his life, Jimmy read Ellie's thoughts, knowing she felt nothing but relief as the tremors eased, the icy chills fled her body, and warm, invincible strength began to flow through her veins. Ellie was too consumed with need to feel any guilt or distaste for what she did ... Jimmy knew that feeling well. But he didn't condemn Ellie. There was time enough to teach her to resist the blood lust as he'd been taught to. For now, Ellie should drink as much as she needed to regain her strength. Besides, this mortal was no more deserving of life than her scumbag brother.

Finally Ellie raised her lips and Jimmy felt a brief, disturbing thrill at her full lips doused in inviting, warm blood. "You, too, Jimmy."

"Huh?" he said, unable to get over how sexy Ellie looked, with newly grown hair falling past her shoulders and creamy white skin that showed no hint of the abuse she'd suffered through.

"You, too," Ellie said impatiently and gestured to the near dead boy at her side. "I feel you're weak. You have to feed, too."

Ellie was right. . .Jimmy felt limp and sluggish. Stretching out, he sank his teeth into the puncture holes Ellie had already made and drank what little blood she'd left for him. Scant though it was, Jimmy drank enough to restore his strength so he could leap up and catch Ellie in a bear hug.

"Thank God you're all right!" Jimmy started to bend his head and kiss her but Ellie pushed him away, looking frightened and confused.

"What happened, Jimmy? Where am I? Why did you transform me?"

"You don't remember anything?" Jimmy said, thinking what a blessing her amnesia was. Ellie had been put through hell. . . there was no need for her to remember the ugliness she'd suffered through.

Ellie frowned, deep in thought. "The last thing I remember is going to sleep last night. You proposed to me and we fell asleep. What happened? Is it nighttime already? Are Mom and Daddy and Lee back?"

"Oh, honey." Jimmy sighed, wishing like hell he didn't have to be the one to tell her about Mikal. How did you tell a sweet, innocent girl she'd just been vilely used by her own twin brother?

Jimmy took her hands, kissing each in turn before he met Ellie's worried eyes. "Baby, listen carefully. Nothing I'm about to tell you was your fault. You did nothing to deserve what happened to you. Understood?"

"What happened to me?" Ellie demanded, now looking apprehensive, as well as worried.

Grimly, Jimmy explained the true identity of the boy she thought of as Mickey. At first, Ellie refused to even listen until Jimmy explained it had been Maggie who had identified Mikal when she saw him on the video clip he sent. Jimmy underplayed the graphic contents of the video, merely saying Mikal kidnapped Ellie and then sent the video as a cyber ransom note. "Do you remember him coming to the house? Obviously, you'd have welcomed him inside as your friend . . . that's why he was able to abduct you."

Ellie shook her head, the pretty flush of blood leaving her cheeks as deep mortification and repulsion took its place, making her look gray and sick. "I told you, I don't remember anything that happened since last night. You're telling me my first boyfriend turned out to be my twin brother, that I've been having sex with . . . oh, God!"

"Ellie."Jimmy kissed her deeply, not so much out of passion as to show Ellie he still loved her, that the awful ruse Mikal had played on her didn't disgust Jimmy or make him want to break off with her. With his kiss, Jimmy tried to convey understanding but not pity—Ellie would hate thinking she was someone to be sorry for now. "Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

"I should have known," Ellie cried, refusing to accept Jimmy's comforting words. "I'm psychic; you know that. I should have felt a connection to Mikal . . . my God, he's my own twin! I shared a womb with him."

"Mikal's stronger than you,"Jimmy said bluntly.

"Hell, he was able to fool your mother and Charles ... vampires couldn't even see through him! Don't blame yourself for any of this. Mikal is the one that used you."

"So what happened today?" Ellie asked. "What did he do to me that was so bad you had to transform me? And where's Mom? Or Daddy? Or Lee?"

Again, Jimmy didn't tell Ellie the whole, unsavory truth. He merely said Mikal and the band of mortals he had with him hurt Ellie to provoke Lord Baldevar into rushing onto the estate. "He knew your dad would come running if he thought you were in danger. Baldevar came here the minute he knew where you were and tried to keep your mom at home by hypnotizing her. But Maggie woke up and then we came here to help rescue you."

"What happened to Daddy?" Ellie said, her voice scaling up with alarm. "Did Mikal hurt him? What about Mom and Lee?"

"I don't know," Jimmy admitted. "Your mom . . . when we got closer to the house, she said she had a feeling your dad was hurt I don't know about Lee ... for some reason your father took Lee with him. When Maggie and I got here, we split up. She went after your dad and Mikal and I came to you."

"You mean Mom and Daddy and Lee are still fighting him . . . alone?" Aghast, Ellie stood up, ready to charge through a black opening but for Jimmy's restraining arm. "Jimmy, don't you dare try and stop me! I won't let Mikal hurt my mom! I'm a vampire now; I've got to help Mom! I feel her somewhere in this house ... she needs me, Jimmy. Come on, come on!"

"Hold it," Jimmy said, ignoring the nails clawing into his skin as Ellie struggled toward the door. "We'll go but we're going to do this right. Don't you see Mikal wants everyone to blindly charge after him? We have to set up some ground rules."

Jimmy grabbed the wooden stake on the floor and thrust it into Ellie's hands while he removed a .357 Magnum from an arm holster. The Magnum wouldn't kill Mikal but it would throw him on his ass. Then Maggie, Simon, or Lee could cut off his head.

"It's not much but it'll do," Jimmy said, gesturing to Ellie's stake. "If you get a chance, drive it into his heart. Now stay behind me at all times. Understand?"

Ellie nodded and they went off together to search for Maggie, Lord Baldevar, and Lee in the ominously silent house.

Fifteen

Meghann watched Jimmy disappear, and then slumped against one of the iron spikes, exhausted. It was a good thing Jimmy couldn't see her now; he'd never have agreed to let her transport him along the astral plane if he knew she'd pushed herself to the point of depletion to propel him to Ellie's side. Now Meghann's own ability to fly the plane was severely impaired so she had to face down Mikal without the safety hatch of being able to fly away from danger.

Well, so be it. . . nothing was keeping her from Simon. Meghann reached into her backpack and withdrew a naginata, the infamous sword of the medieval Japanese warrior monks. Alcuin had given her the weapon nearly fifty years ago, because he believed the naginata with its slim wooden tang and short but lethal, edge-tempered blade was the perfect weapon for a petite woman with small hands. Hopefully, her skill with the weapon would give her a swift victory over Mikal.

Simon, where are you ? Help me, Meghann pleaded as she cut through the nightmare garden of false ivy and weeping willows to reach the house. Simon, if you're alive, please reach out. It's Meghann. Answer me, answer me! Tell me where to find you.

Meghann couldn't be sure but she thought she felt something urging her toward the front door, assuring her no obstacle would bar her way. Meghann glared at the thick black doors studded with silver bolts and they swung open, revealing a long, dark corridor with doors leading to various wings. There was also a spiral staircase balanced so precariously it looked like it would fall any minute. There was something deeply familiar about that staircase. Meghann's eyes narrowed in concentration when she tried to remember where she'd seen it before.

Of course—Ellie created that staircase! Meghann's eyes widened, remembering the blueprints her daughter had shown her, full of shy pride when she told her mother a boy she'd met at school was so impressed with her talent he asked her to design a rambling, fun-house interior for a club he wanted to establish. Meghann cringed to think how badly the shocks of the past two nights had numbed her mind that she didn't immediately connect Immortal Light with the designs "Mickey" solicited from Ellie.

Meghann looked at the dark mansion with new, informed eyes. If Mikal followed Ellie's sketches, then the double doors in front of her led to the dance floor. From that main room, there were several offshoots. One could play out elaborate vampire fantasies in the gaming rooms that came complete with computers and software while other rooms were quiet parlors for guests that found the frenetic noise of the bar too much. If Meghann remembered correctly, there were even two mini- theatres where one could watch horror films and a small dining room in case any of the Goth guests should get hungry.

Meghann was tempted to head for the dance floor but there were the other wings to be considered, as well as that careening staircase that replaced the elegant mahogany one she remembered. Upstairs there were hotel rooms for guests spending the night, several large halls for people who wished to use the club for conventions, and finally a business annex for planning day-to-day operations. So where was Simon in this confusing maze?

Which door, Meghann asked and this time the unseen presence was stronger. It felt like someone took her hand and guided her to the imposing set of doors with gargoyle handles glaring at her in stony silence.

Be prepared, a voice said as Meghann used telekinesis to open the doors and this time there was no mistaking the voice ... it was definitely Simon!

Prepared for what? Meghann asked, so overjoyed at this indication Simon was still alive she almost missed narrow trail of blood artfully camouflaged amidst the thorn and crucifix floor.

Meghann leaned down, one hand clutching her sword while she used the other to taste the blood on the floor, praying it didn't belong to Simon.

Lee, Meghann realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she tasted blood she'd drunk last night. But Lee's taste, though immediately recognizable, was different now, containing the heady iron aroma only vampires produced. So Simon had completed Lee's transformation! But why? It didn't make any sense for Simon to charge after Mikal with no one to aid him but a newborn vampire.

Meghann frowned at the blood trail, knowing she was missing some piece of this puzzle but having no time to ponder the mystery. She had to find out what the blood trail led to, where Mikal had dragged her bleeding friend and if he was still alive.

The ragged red line ended abruptly by a raised dais concealed by thick black curtains. As Meghann walked toward the dais, the curtains parted to reveal a sight that made her scream in paralyzed horror, not caring who she alerted to her presence.

The dais led to a small stage with the inscription unity in darkness written over it in black, Gothic script. About an inch beneath the sign, Lee Winslow's body hung ten feet off the floor, thick cables attached to his arms and legs to keep him suspended in midair, welcome, mother was written in blood on his bare torso, and his head was missing.

"Lee," Meghann cried, ready to rush forward and drag her friend down to the floor. But as she ran to him, she felt an invisible, iron-strong hand grab her shoulder to keep her off the stage.

Meghann, no!

She couldn't be sure who warned her away, whether it was Simon or whatever remained of Lee, but she knew to disregard it would be the signature on her own death warrant. If she dropped her sword and kept her back turned to the rest of the room while she worked on freeing Lee, she'd be a ludicrously easy target for Mikal. But that didn't mean she'd allow the desecration Mikal had visited on Lee's helpless body to continue.

Meghann glared at the cables wrapped around his arms and legs. Within seconds, the thick black cords snapped and Lee Winslow's body fell to the stage floor. Now Meghann leapt onto the stage and turned her attention to the black curtains. When they fell of their rungs, she grabbed one to decendy wrap Lee's remains.

"Lee," Meghann cried again as she made the makeshift shroud, weeping soundlessly. This was too much. She'd lost Charles and Lee in the space of two nights. How could they both be dead, two of the finest men she'd ever known? Meghann stared at the black bundle, not seeing the shocking sight Mikal had reduced her friend to but the kind, competent doctor who'd guided her through her pregnancy, applying all his skill to keep her and Ellie alive when she went into premature labor. She saw Lee cuddling Ellie, walking the floor endlessly while the baby howled in teething misery, never showing the slightest strain or irritation at the screaming infant. And she saw him as he must have been tonight, allowing Simon to transform him and trying desperately to save Ellie, never caring that he was risking his life.

Meghann wiped her eyes and caressed Lee's shroud in a gesture of farewell. She couldn't allow herself to think of her crushing grief for Charles and Lee now, not while Simon needed her.

Meghann observed the rest of the stage, at first thinking nothing of the limp rag doll lying in an antique chair lined in horsehair. At first, she thought it some kind of macabre decoration but on closer inspection she realized it was a corpse—a boneless, shriveled, corpse with a knife planted in what was once a chest.

Nauseated and horrified by this new display of her son's phenomenal power (even if Simon wanted to, he couldn't have been responsible for the thing's condition), at first Meghann didn't realize she knew the dead woman. Then her eyes focused on the luxurious blond hair unaffected by the body's destruction and remembered where she'd seen hair like that. It was back in the fifties, at that horrible party Simon threw to introduce her to the vampiric society he'd formed over the centuries.

Meghann glared at the corpse, all traces of pity for the dead woman vanished. Meghann didn't know her name, didn't care to know it. She only knew that at that long forgotten vampire ball, Meghann had balked when Simon began to feed from two helpless young girls to the delight of the slinky blonde who joined him after Meghann refused.

Meghann ground her teeth, remembering the other vampire's ecstasy as she stretched out beside Simon, trying to wrest him from Meghann by proving she was more debauched than Simon's chosen consort.

Meghann had turned on her heel and left the party in a huff, treating Simon to a display of icy nonchalance for several evenings before he finally laughed and threw her down on the nearest bed, telling her she couldn't blame him for being born four hundred years before her but Meghann had no reason to be jealous. Then, all night, he proceeded to prove Meghann was the only woman he wanted.

After that night, Meghann forgot about the vampire tramp but a grasp of her silver hair showed Meghann the creature hadn't forgotten about Simon at all. Meghann didn't feel herself blanch or her nostrils quiver with violent outrage when she saw the hand this awful woman had in harming Ellie. The psychic impressions Meghann received didn't tell her why Mikal inflicted such agony on his sole vampiric collaborator, but psychopaths were unpredictable. Maybe Mikal killed the woman out of some frustration he felt toward Simon or maybe he was simply bored and craved the thrill he got from causing pain.

Hidden speakers suddenly came to life all around her, the bass so strong the darkwave music with its frenetic, techno beat was distorted. Meghann jumped, her eyes wary and darting from side to side as she held her sword out in front of her the way Alcuin taught her to.

Meghann clenched her hands tightly around the balsa staff to keep them from shaking. She knew the howling music was invitation—Mikal was ready to properly introduce himself to his mother.

Meghann felt warmth on her back and knew she'd face blinding light the moment she turned around. Mikal meant to exploit her every vulnerability, starting with her a vampire's sensitivity to bright light.

Meghann turned around slowly, not intending to allow her son to blind her. She kept the naginata ready for attack and stared into the light, seeing beneath and beyond it as Alcuin had taught her to do.

Once her eyes adjusted, she could see that the tombstone bar was now illuminated by a clever lighting system hidden in the dome ceiling carved into the form of grayish-black storm clouds.

Meghann. . .

Her heart contracted at the telepathic cry and the dark, angry music swelled louder while a lighting effect crackled from the ceiling, the bluish-white light illuminating Simon Baldevar lying within the now open doorway, his arms and legs in cruciform position with a sword buried in his heart.

"Simon!" Meghann shrieked and her own sword clattered to the floor. She ran to him, moaning like a hurt animal when she saw how closely he resembled the hideous prophecy Alcuin had shown her the night before.

Meghann knelt beside him, her heart in her throat when she saw his chalk white skin already displaying the fatal blue tinge of cyanosis while his shallow gasps for breath revealed a death rattle. Simon was as close to death as a vampire could come. Unless the stake was removed and he received massive quantities of fresh blood, he would die before sunrise.

"Simon," Meghann sobbed, taking one of his icy hands in hers. "Simon, no!" For a moment, the hideous vision before her blurred, coalescing into the other night Meghann had seen her master impaled ... the night she'd done this to him. Meghann went through a bewildering juxtaposition, remembering that one time she'd been glad to see Simon like this, spat on him, as he lay weak and helpless before her and living through the hellish present of seeing him near death again.

"I didn't mean it," she cried, covering the bloodless lips and white face in kisses. "Simon, I didn't mean it. I never told you that before ... I never told you how sorry I've been for that night. I didn't want you to die, I didn't. I just wanted to get away from you ... I was so young, so confused. I thought you were smothering me, I thought I hated you. But Simon, even then, those forty years I wasted, I missed you. I never let any other man take your place in my heart. I ... I never told this to anyone else, but I dreamed of you during those forty years. I had dreams of you holding me, loving me, and I'd wake up with tears running down my face because I missed you and I wanted you back. Simon, I'm sorry ... I've been sorry for so long but I never told you and now it's too late."

Distract him. Simon's golden eyes, glazed with pain but radiating steely resolve, focused on Meghann, urging her to overcome her panic and concentrate on his words.

Listen to me, Meghann, Simon continued and Meghann saw what the effort of speaking cost him— he started to shake and the cold skin beneath her hands grew even clammier. Keep away from Mikal when he shows his face again. Just distract him and I will dispose of him.

"You can't fight him now!" Meghann protested aloud but Simon's eyes had closed again. He wasn't dead, but he was gravely ill and would remain that way until Meghann took the sword out of his chest. But she couldn't do that unless she had fresh blood to offer. If Meghann simply yanked the sword out, Simon would die from blood loss. She had to get him out of here, find a mortal, and then remove the stake so he could drink as much blood as he needed to recover. She still didn't know how Simon had managed to remove the stake she had impaled him with and still had the strength to search out prey—it was nothing short of a miracle.

"But you're not alone now," Meghann whispered, kissing him before she grabbed his legs, prepared to drag him out of the room. She'd have to call out to Jimmy now so he could watch her back while she got Simon out of the house. "I'll help you, I'll get you out of here."

Meghann never knew what made her drop Simon and catapult over his inert form, spinning around in time to see Mikal lunge at her with a broadsword drenched in blood.

Meghann glared at her naginata and it flew into her hand at the same moment Mikal tried to knock it away. Meghann delivered a savage kick to his wrist and he leaped back in surprise, though he recovered quickly and began to advance on his small mother.

Mikal parried a thrust at Meghann's heart and she deflected it though she felt the impact of Mikal's sword clashing against hers all the way from her wrist to the ball of her shoulder. Her entire arm tingled unpleasandy and Meghann knew she was no match for her son's extraordinary physical strength. Her only hope lay in dodging his blows, dancing around him until he finally grew lax and she got a chance to attack.

"No!" This time Mikal went for her head and Meghann did a back flip, landing on top of the bar. Her new position at least gave her the advantage of being at eye level with him.

Mikal made a tentative swipe at her and Meghann answered by flipping a dagger she'd hidden in the small of her back at his heart. Mikal sidestepped the weapon and glanced speculatively at the stone floor beneath Meghann's feet. It began to tremble and Meghann knew Mikal meant to break the bar in half so she'd fall and lose her vantage point. Rather than deflect the attack, Meghann turned her attention to the liquor supply behind her and watched Mikal fall to his knees, squealing like a scalded cat when the bottles began hurtling themselves at him like missiles.

Despite the myriad cuts on her son's exposed skin, Meghann doubted the assault caused him much pain ... it had simply been enough of a deterrent to make him think twice before he launched another j telekinetic attack against his mother.

When the last bottle shattered against his skull, Mikal stood up, looking like a sulky teenager as he glared at Meghann. She stared back, impatient to end this battle so she could save Simon, but at the same time almost mesmerized by this child of hers she'd never had a chance to know and now had no desire to know.

No wonder he was able to fool Charles and me, Meghann thought as she inspected her son—he doesn't look like Simon or me at all. The jet black hair hadn't come from either of his light-haired parents and those nickel-plated eyes with their elongated pupils knew nothing of Meghann's green hue or Simon's amber color.

Try though she might, Meghann could find no piece of herself or Simon in this awkward-looking young man with his gaunt frame and beaky features that she couldn't recall in any member of her mortal family. The only area where Meghann saw a shadow of resemblance was in the great height Mikal had inherited from Simon and a certain wideness through his shoulders.

The longer Meghann stared, the harder it was to believe the stranger glowering at her was her own child. Meghann didn't have to worry about her feelings getting in the way during this confrontation ... the silver eyes filled with a venomous mixture of seething, inexplicable fury, cold contempt and a nasty insolence killed any maternal feelings she might have had for Mikal.

Meghann forced herself not to look over his head and check on Simon. Mikal already knew how much his father meant to her; she was not going to give him a further edge by showing how afraid she was, how she knew that each passing minute brought Simon closer to death. But she had to destroy Mikal quickly ... sunrise was only an hour and a half away.

Mikal frowned and cocked his head, standing well out of striking range, moving closer to Simon than Meghann would have liked. "How did you anticipate my moves?"

"You can't hide your thoughts from me . . . I'm your mother," Meghann said, hoping her sarcasm hid the alacrity she felt at discovering a chink in Mikal's armor. Like Ellie, Mikal wasn't used to anyone being able to read his thoughts. He'd never fought an opponent who could see into him; Meghann's psychic ability put her son at a definite disadvantage. "Mothers always know what their children are thinking."

"Do they indeed?" Mikal said with Simon's thin, mocking smirk. "Then look into my mind and tell me what you need to do to get your daughter out of here."

"Don't you mean what you force me to do?" Meghann countered. "You pose a great threat to your father and sister, as well as to me. Your need to destroy us all means I must kill you to guarantee our safety."

"Maggie," Mikal laughed with Simon's sardonic merriness. "Don't you look cute, trying so hard to be tough? You can't kill me anymore than you could kill him." Mikal used his sword to point at his unconscious father, careful to not take his eyes off Meghann. "I know all about your little spat now, how you almost destroyed him. But I am a far better marksman than you. Very sloppy aim, you missed his heart by several inches. You did have time to note my sword found the center of his heart?"

Meghann went rigid, blinking rapidly to keep the brutal shock of Mikal's words off her face. She hadn't been able to inspect Simon's wound but if Mikal were telling the truth, even fresh mortal blood wouldn't be enough to save Simon. A blow to the center of a vampire's heart was fatal, no amount of blood would heal the gaping wound. Ironically, the only thing keeping Simon alive was the sword in his chest. .. he'd die when it was removed.

"So you've lost your lover," Mikal taunted and

Meghann thought he sounded more like a petulant grade-school bully than the mastermind that caused all this destruction. "What are you willing to do to save your daughter?"

Meghann ignored the question; she wasn't going to start a dialogue that gave Mikal any modicum of control over the situation. How could she kill him and get Ellie, as well as Simon, to safety? Meghann decided she'd take Simon out of here with the weapon lodged in his chest and keep him alive on blood transfusions until she could think of a way to heal him. If only Alcuin were here ...

That was it! Alcuin! Meghann remembered her priestly mentor appearing to her after his death but before Meghann and Simon reconciled. He'd told Meghann she could kill Simon by invoking him, allowing his soul to possess her and infuse her body with his great strength so he could kill Lord Baldevar. Surely if Meghann called Alcuin now, he could destroy Mikal.

"No, no, Maggie," Mikal sighed in mock dismay. "Father already tried that. . . what do you think he was doing with the good doctor?"

"Alcuin inhabited Lee's body?" It wasn't really a question for Meghann realized immediately the perfect sense of Mikal's words. She felt a surge of admiration for Simon, calling forth his old enemy to use the body of a newly transformed vampire. And Lee ... Meghann's throat closed with tears when she thought of that brave, final sacrifice Lee made for Ellie. Then her eyes clouded over with puzzlement. If Simon had invaded Mikal's stronghold with Alcuin at his side, what had gone wrong? Why was Lee dead and Simon grievously hurt while this monster boy was alive and unharmed? Why didn't she feel Alcuin's spirit nearby?

"Steel," Mikal said in response to the confusion on Meghann's face. "My lovely house is reinforced with steel beams ... no spirits, be they angel or daemon, can enter my home."

"How is this your home?" Meghann demanded harshly and saw Mikal's inhuman eyes contract cautiously ... plainly he hadn't expected her to take the offensive. "Simon paid for it and Ellie designed it. You contributed nothing.

"Isn't that what all this is about?" Meghann questioned ruthlessly, knowing she was on the right track when she saw Mikal's colorless lips tighten. "You know you aren't a match for your father in brains or looks. You're jealous of him, just like you're jealous of your own sister for being pretty, for being smart, for not having to terrorize people to get attention. You know you're nothing, that no one would ever notice you unless you hurt them. You can't build a fortune the way Simon did so you have to steal his money, and you haven't your sister's talent or imagination so this nightclub wouldn't exist if it wasn't for her. You don't hate your father, Mikal, you hate yourself. You hate yourself for the ugliness you see in the mirror and the emptiness you can't escape in your soul."

With a low, feral snarl, Mikal hurled himself at her and Meghann easily sidestepped him. He fell behind the bar and she leapt on top of him, sitting on his chest while she aimed the curved edge of the naginata at his vulnerable neck.

Mikal got his knees up and hurled Meghann off him before she could decapitate him. The force behind his blow was so strong Meghann crashed through the stone bar headfirst.

For a moment, her vision blurred and her head throbbed with the vicious pain of a concussion. Before Meghann could regain her equilibrium, Mikal fell on her, attaching his blood teeth to his mother's neck.

"I never got to breast feed," he snarled when Meghann lay weak and drained beneath him. Feebly, she tried to get her hand up and he broke it before tearing off her shirt and attacking a vein in her breast while his hands caressed the full globes of her breasts with obscene intimacy.

"Stop it!" she screamed, finding new energy to fight when she felt her son grow hard as he pressed himself against her. Meghann yanked on his hair with her good hand, the broken one wouldn't heal until she fed.

Mikal laughed at her attempts to defend herself and dragged her over to his semiconscious father, kicking him to make him more alert. "You cannot miss this, dear Father. I want you to hear her cry out, you must watch me take her ... ow!"

Meghann managed to sit up and saw a thin line of scratches mar Mikal's face while Simon's skin turned an even more alarming shade of blue as his body began to convulse.

"Simon," she whispered and dragged herself closer to him. There was blood in her backpack; she had to get it in him before this new effort to save her cost him his life.

Mikal kicked her in the throat, catching the bloody puncture wounds, and Meghann fell back, blinking back tears from the pain while her son started tearing her clothes off, frenzied with the need to rape his mother while his father watched helplessly.

A deafening explosion rang in Meghann's ears and she felt something whiz by. Mikal, nearly inside her but not yet able to accomplish his vile intent, growled and swung her around so her body protected him from the gun Jimmy Delacroix had just fired.

"Drop her," Jimmy ordered at the same moment Ellie screeched, "Don't you hurt my mom!"

Ellie would have charged forward with her wooden stake, but Jimmy grabbed her hand—Not yet, Ellie. As long as Mikal had Maggie hostage with a sword at her throat, Jimmy wasn't going to make any sudden moves. The minute he or Ellie attacked, Mikal was going to kill Maggie.

He's just a kid was Jimmy's first thought as he glared at the weird, wild eyes and scrawny bare chest of Mikal. With all he'd done, it was easy to forget Mikal was Ellie's twin, the same age she was. But now, with his lank black hair dripping sweat and calculating but confused expression, Jimmy thought the monster that caused all this trouble looked like any rebellious teenager—albeit one with inhuman pupils and eyes the color of lead bullets.

'Jimmy," Maggie cried, squirming furiously to get away from her son. "Don't worry about me! Just take Ellie and get out of here!"

"No!" Ellie screamed before he could say anything. "I won't let him hurt you or Daddy!"

"This is Jimmy?" Mikal questioned and Jimmy thought the kid sounded just like his father—full of that same cold-blooded viciousness and mocking arrogance. "What a pleasure to make your acquaintance ... you and I have a great deal in common. We're the only men in the world who've bedded Ellie and Maggie. But I think you're being selfish, Jimmy Delacroix. Why don't you take the one you've transformed and leave this one to me?"

Jimmy shuddered at the casual, lighthearted way Mikal acknowledged his incest. If only Maggie could get away from him, Jimmy would have a clear shot at his head. The Magnum would disable him long enough for Maggie to grab that sword by her side and take the kid's head off.

Daddy, Ellie whimpered and Jimmy was surprised when he didn't feel any happiness to see Simon Baldevar sprawled on the floor with a sword through his heart. If the kid could take Lord Baldevar out, how was Jimmy supposed to kill him?

First, we concentrate on getting Maggie away from him, Jimmy thought and Ellie nodded by his side, green eyes wide and full of terror as she stared at her struggling mother.

But, Jimmy, if I went over to Daddy and pulled the sword out. . .

No! That directive came from Maggie, still struggling wildly but focusing her gaze on Ellie. You 'll kill him if you take the stake out. . . don't touch him! Ellie, please get out of here!

"I won't leave you!" Ellie screamed, her voice cracking with fear before she glared at Mikal. "Why are you doing this? Can't you leave us alone? Haven't you done enough?"

"I have not even started, dear Sister." Mikal tried for his father's sardonic edge and failed miserably. There was something too forced in his smile as he glared at Ellie, seeming to take her transformed condition as a personal affront.

"Look at her," Jimmy said coldly, thinking he'd found a way to put the sonofabitch off balance. "You failed, kid. Ellie's alive and well. . . there isn't one fucking mark left of what you did to her and what's more, she doesn't even remember what you did today."

Mikal's eyes bulged and knotted red and blue veins popped through his white face, turning it into a grotesque mask of thwarted spite and malice. If Jimmy had been Catholic, he would have crossed himself at the insane fury shining in Mikal's eyes as he glared at Lord Baldevar.

Goddamn you, Father!

Jimmy had no idea why Mikal focused his anger on Simon when he'd been the one to transform Ellie but Maggie had already told him the kid was out of his mind. Now Jimmy had to keep working on Mikal, get him so riled up he wouldn't fight with a clear head when Jimmy attacked him to get Maggie out of his grip.

'You're finished," Jimmy growled, seeing Maggie nod imperceptibly, approving of his strategy. "Maybe you can kill Maggie, but you can't deal with Ellie and me at the same time . . . one of us will get you. Why don't you release your mother and let us walk out of here? We won't hunt you down. You leave us alone, we leave you alone. What do you say?"

"I say there's fifty-seven minutes to sunrise, Jimmy Delacroix. You and my sister are going to have to hide from the sun. So you made a vampire out of her . . . too bad you two aren't going to have any anniversaries to celebrate. I'll find your resting- place and dispose of you today. If you want, though, I'll handicap you to make the game more interesting. Take a running start. Flee my home now and let's see how far I have to hunt you down through the world before I slaughter you and my dear sister."

Jimmy didn't bother replying; he decided to take his chances and aim the Magnum at Mikal's head. Quick as a cat, Mikal lifted Maggie up so she covered him and the bullet wound up shattering her shoulder.

Maggie screamed in agony and Ellie hurled herself at Mikal before Jimmy could stop her. She ran forward and attempted to ram the stake through his unprotected crotch but Mikal tossed Maggie to the side and grabbed Ellie's stake, using it to propel her across the room.

Ellie hadn't even landed in a heap by the smoked French doors before Mikal gathered Maggie up again, using her as a shield while he advanced on Jimmy with a sword in his free hand.

Jimmy was about to fire again when he heard a queer popping sound, the only noise in the still room. Mikal heard it, too, and whirled around in time to face his father, wobbling on his feet but advancing on his son with the sword he'd just forced out of his own chest.

Jimmy could see enough of Mikal's profile to identify the complete shock on his features, the wide open, startled silver eyes and gaping mouth that croaked out, "Father..."

That was all he said before Simon raised the sword in a clumsy but deadly arc, bringing it halfway through Mikal's neck before he fell to the floor; heavy, black blood poured out of his mouth while his body shuddered so violently he was almost lifted off the floor.

"No!" Maggie screamed and raced over to Simon. "No, no!"

"Maggie," Jimmy said gently while Ellie sobbed miserably at his side. "It's over."

"No!" Maggie yelled, glaring up at him and Jimmy didn't see anything resembling sanity in the metallic green eyes locked on his.

"I can save him," she said, her hectic gaze jumping from Simon to Mikal. Since Lord Baldevar hadn't fully decapitated him, the boy was still alive but barely. Jimmy hunched next to his body and saw the sword had severed his spinal cord; Mikal was paralyzed from the neck down. His eyes met Jimmy's and there didn't seem to be any pain or even fear in his expression, just deep surprise ... as if his own mortality had just occurred to him.

"Bastard," Maggie hissed at her son and flipped him onto his back, her eyes cold and calculating when she handled the dying boy.

"Listen to me, Jimmy," she said urgently and Jimmy thought Simon Baldevar's impending death was pushing her into the breakdown that had started last night when she learned of Charles's murder. She grasped Jimmy's hands with a grip like two anvils and her voice, normally so light and sweet, ripped through him like a razor.

"I can save him, I can," she babbled and glanced at Simon, still now with approaching death while blood continued to pump out of his chest in heavy spurts. "I know what to do now. One way, there's one thing that might work. But I need your help; I can't do it without you. Please, Jimmy. You have to help me!"

"Of course, Maggie," he said gently, willing to do anything to keep her from completely toppling over the edge. Let Maggie do whatever she wanted to try and save Simon Baldevar. Sunrise would arrive soon and she'd be forced to sleep. Tomorrow night would be time enough for him and Ellie to help Maggie start coping with Lord Baldevar's death. "Tell me what to do."

To his surprise, Maggie glared at the backpack they'd brought with them and it swung over to Jimmy's feet. Maggie ripped it open, threw him some of Lee's medical instruments, and then began barking out orders in the calm, concise tones of an experienced surgeon.

"Take the scalpel and slit open his chest," she said and hastily gulped down blood from the transfusion pack they'd brought. "I'd do it myself but I can't be so damned weak when I do the ritual. I have to feed and we don't have a second to lose."

Meghann drained the bag while she gave Jimmy the rest of his instructions telepathically. He did everything she told him to do, thanking God that Lee Winslow had given him some instruction in medicine over the years.

Jimmy sliced open Simon Baldevar's chest and used the wide retractor to snap his ribs. Only through a severe effort was Jimmy able to suppress the nausea and fear he felt when he stared at the heart. The sword had gone through the center of his heart, leaving a gaping, ugly hole. To his horror, Jimmy saw the edges of the wound were beginning to blacken and rot. Jimmy might not be a doctor or that learned in vampire lore, but he instinctively knew that once that black, mottled crud covered his heart completely, Simon Baldevar would die.

Maggie barked another telepathic order and Jimmy held Simon's heart while Ellie looked on anxiously. Jimmy was sure Maggie would have preferred to ask her daughter to do this but she knew Ellie was liable to fall asleep at any moment, newly transformed as she was.

Jimmy wondered what Maggie had in mind to do next and watched her toss the empty transfusion pack to the side, placing both hands on Mikal's skinny chest. Jimmy noticed she never looked at her son Mikal, still aware, made no effort Jimmy could discern to reach her, convince her to save him. With a chill, Jimmy realized Mikal hated so much and so senselessly he'd rather die than ask one of these people he'd done his best to kill to help him.

Maggie inhaled and Jimmy saw a strange calmness settle over her eyes. There was something withdrawn but expectant about her as she focused her blank green eyes heavenward and lifted her hands up.

Her lips moved, forming words that made no sense to Jimmy though Ellie gasped and then quickly shut her mouth, apparently not wanting to disturb her mother.

At her arcane words, a luminous black light formed between Maggie's upturned palms and it was Jimmy's turn to gasp, now knowing exactly what Maggie meant to do. He'd seen her do it once before—that time she meant to save his life by destroying a vampire Simon Baldevar sent to kill him. Now she meant to use this dark magic to help Simon.

The black light grew denser and lengthened in her hands until it was almost too much for Maggie to contain. When it took on a rounded shape, Maggie lowered her hands, bringing them back to Mikal's chest.

Mikal's eyes blinked a few times, for the first time appearing uneasy as his mother brought her fathomless light to his skin and her slender hands, bathed within the dark light, disappeared inside his chest.

Jimmy saw Maggie's pale skin whiten until she appeared ghostlike, almost a figment of the imagination instead of a real being. Large beads of perspiration formed on her forehead and dripped into her eyes and Jimmy knew Maggie was risking her own life to perform this magic. Despite the blood she'd drunk, she simply wasn't strong enough for this kind of sorcery. Jimmy almost called out to her to stop but held back, remembering the awful despair in her eyes when she pleaded with him to help her. Jimmy thought Maggie might well prefer death to life without Simon ... or she might spend that life hopelessly insane if she failed tonight but didn't die with him.

Maggie's hands came out of Mikal's body, still bathed in black light and clutching his still beating heart.

Amazingly, Mikal was still alive, even as his helpless eyes focused on the heart that was no longer inside him. Now Maggie seemed to come out of her trance a litde and there was pity in her eyes when she met those of her son, a helpless, frustrated pity warring with pure hatred as they stared at each other before Mikal finally closed his eyes, no longer able to look at the mother he hadn't been able to kill or a world he'd never dominate.

Jimmy never saw Maggie move, but suddenly she was kneeling over Simon, holding his son's beating heart above his own. Maggie's fangs, a startling white against the darkness all around them, descended and she bit into Mikal's heart, the blood pouring into the gaping hole in Simon's heart.

As soon as the first drops of purplish, thick blood hit, Simon's heart began to beat again with a furious intensity that made Jimmy yank his hands away in surprise. Awed and a little fearful, he watched the viscous black rot eating at Lord Baldevar's heart vanish.

A strangled moan broke Jimmy's shock and he turned to stare at Maggie, covered completely in that strange light she'd conjured. It bathed her and made every hair stand on end, as though she were caught in an electrical storm, but she didn't take her blood

teeth out of Mikal's heart, determined that Simon should have every nourishing drop of blood even if the effort to give it to him killed her.

"Maggie," Jimmy said and grabbed her, determined to stop her before she destroyed herself but the black light she no longer controlled enveloped him the moment he touched her. Jimmy had the briefest sensation of an explosion roaring through him before he lost consciousness, not knowing if he, Maggie, or even Simon were going to live through this night.

Sixteen

White light, dazzling in its brilliance but so deadly . . . tried to pull away, knew the light meant death but there wasn't any pain, just warmth and an odd sense of renewal before exhaustion set in. Perhaps, Simon thought before he drifted off, this wonderful glow was the afterlife receiving him. But who would have ever thought a soul as dark as his would be welcomed so warmly ?

The warmth must have been a last, desperate fantasy of life for there was no gentle, cocooning sensation the next time Simon woke up. In place of the all-encompassing glow, he felt bitter cold lodged deep within his bones and a dull, heavy, inescapable ache in his chest.

But perhaps he was not dead, Simon thought, unless racking cold and relentless pain were the agonies of the hell he'd sold his soul to a thousand times over in the course of his immortality. No, he wasn't dead ... he was simply too uncomfortable to be dead.

But what force had saved him from death? Mikal was many things, but an inept swordsman he certainly was not . . . Simon remembered the icy feeling of steel cutting through his back and finding the center of his heart. A vampire could not recover if his heart was lacerated like that. Why was he still alive? There had been no mortal on the premises Meghann might pump for fresh blood to revive him . . .

Meghann! Simon strained mightily to open his eyes but the simple effort to part his eyelids was beyond him; it felt like they'd been sewn shut. Simon struggled to pull himself out of his stupor; he had to find out if Meghann was safe.

"Easy," a voice said softly and Simon felt a gentle pressure on his forearm. That light touch was the last bit of evidence he needed to convince him he wasn't dead . . . nowhere in hell could such a solicitous caress exist. "Don't strain yourself."

Simon thought he'd know that lilting voice anywhere. He forced his crusty, unwilling eyelids open and gazed into a pair of green eyes staring down at him with grave, loving concern.

"My love," he started to say but then his vision sharpened and the blurred paleness surrounding the emerald eyes gained definition, forming features too chiseled and sharp boned to be Meghann's. It was Elizabeth watching over him with eyes and a voice so like her mother's Simon mistook her for his consort.

Simon clamped down on the hand clutching his and croaked, "Meghann!" He was appalled when the urgent shout he'd intended came out as nothing more than the frail whisper of a very infirm or very elderly man. If he was left this weak after the encounter with Mikal, what possible chance was there that Meghann had survived? But if Meghann were dead, who had saved him and Elizabeth?

At her mother's name, Elizabeth looked uncertain and Simon felt his heart stop but then Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and screamed shrilly, "Mom! Mom, come quick! Daddy's awake ... he wants you!"

The rushed footsteps began even before Elizabeth started to speak and Simon had the briefest impression of a red-and-white blur before warm lips started smothering him in kisses and Meghann yelped through her tears, "Simon, thank God! I thought I'd lost you ... I was so scared you'd never wake up!"

Some of Simon's strength returned at the sight of Meghann and he was able to draw her down to him, crushing her small, dear body against him while he anxiously took in the half moon circles beneath her eyes and her white, sickly skin. "You aren't well, little one."

"Neither are you," Meghann sniffled and Simon felt another pain in his chest at her teary, bloodshot eyes peering at him from hollowed sockets. How sick and frail his Meghann was; she needed blood desperately.

Meghann nodded at his thought, bemusing Simon when he realized how weak he was, that she could peer into his mind with such little effort. She turned to Elizabeth and said, "Your father's awake now so he doesn't need the stomach tube." Simon felt Meghann tear uncomfortable tubing out of his nose while she continued to address their daughter. "Can you go downstairs and get us a few pints of blood? We both need to feed."

"Simon," Meghann said after Elizabeth left, stroking his unshaven face tenderly, and Simon's arms tightened around her, tilting her chin so he could give her a deep, lingering kiss now that their daughter was no longer in the room.

For one delicious moment, Meghann melted against him before inexplicably stiffening and resisting his searching mouth. Simon allowed her to wriggle away and glare at him with an intriguing mix of love and reproach.

"You should have brought me to Mikal's, not Lee!" Meghann shouted. "I could have summoned Alcuin into me and you know it! If you'd left Lee here, we could have gone after Ellie together and Lee would still be alive..."

"And you and I would both be dead now," Simon broke in, grabbing Meghann's wrists and drawing her against him. "Lee Winslow died because he wasn't able to defend himself when Alcuin's spirit departed his body. Could you have recovered from such a shock, one moment possessed and the next standing in the midst of battle, or would you, too, have been easy fodder for Mikal's blade? And what makes you think I could continue fighting to save our daughter when I saw you dead before me? Had I brought you to fight our son, he could very well have managed to kill you, Elizabeth and myself. I was right to leave you behind."

"Oh no, you weren't!" Meghann replied heatedly, the inexorable logic of his words flying over her head, as usual. "If I meekly sat at home, you and Ellie would be dead. You're only alive because I arrived to fight Mikal."

"Partially true," Simon acknowledged, making Meghann relax slightly though she continued to glare at him. "I am alive because of some effort of ' yours. Tell me, little one, just how did you make a punctured heart beat again?"

Meghann flinched as though he'd insulted her instead of complimenting her, her eyes suddenly dark and troubled. Simon started to divine her thoughts but the effort gave him a severe headache. Before he could ask his consort what disturbed her so, Elizabeth came into the room with four transfusion packs he sniffed with distaste.

"What is that?"

Meghann took one of the packs, forcing the others into his unwilling hands and gave Elizabeth a grin that transformed her miserable expression. "Look at your father's scowl and remember one thing: Men never change. Even if they live four hundred years, they're still miserable cranks when they're sick."

"I am a miserable crank because I have no use for this swill?" Simon never drank from stored packs; he'd rather feed from a garbage can than force stale blood down his throat. "If you wish me to regain my strength, madam, I suggest you procure fresh blood."

Meghann's face colored angrily but Elizabeth quickly interceded between her parents. "We've all been drinking the packs, Daddy. No one wanted to leave the house while you were .. . ill."

While you were waiting to see if I lived or died, you mean, Simon thought and drank the vile tasting blood with no further argument. Of course Meghann wouldn't search for prey while he lay on his deathbed. Simon stroked her cheek, not sure if the sudden well being rushing through his veins came from contact with Meghann or the foul- tasting blood packs. But he wouldn't criticize Meghann any further about the poor meal; he was feeling better now and there was time enough later to seek out decent blood.

When he touched her, Simon felt the telepathic link between him and Meghann restored. Immediately he knew how his extraordinary consort saved his life and why she felt shame for her actions.

"You poured Mikal's heart's blood into me to close the wound?" In Meghann's thoughts, Simon saw the darkened hall, the spectral glow Meghann called forth to allow her to plunge her hands into their son's chest and pluck out his heart. There were hands cradling Simon's damaged heart while Meghann performed her magic, hands that kept him alive until the ritual was complete.

Simon smiled at his daughter, taking her hand while he kept his arm firmly wrapped around Meghann. "You helped your mother save me?"

"No," Elizabeth said, suddenly flushed and ill at ease. 'Jimmy held your heart, Daddy."

'Jimmy Delacroix?" It was not so unexpected that Meghann brought the creature with her to Mikal's. After all, Charles Tarleton was dead and Meghann was not such a fool that she'd charge into their son's lair without any kind of assistance. But Simon was curious to learn what kind of pressure Meghann put on Jimmy Delacroix that he'd help her save the vampire that transformed him against his will and made effort after effort to destroy him.

Meghann bit her lower lip, not meeting Simon's eyes when she said, "He saved Ellie, too. When we got to the house, Jimmy and I split up. I found you and he found Ellie and . . . transformed her. It was the only way to save her life."

Simon knew that. He well remembered finding his bleeding, ravaged daughter on the verge of death. Shock and grief dulled his reflexes at seeing her young, promising life shattered so viciously and with such little remorse. In his distraction, Mikal had been able to sneak up and stab his father in the back before he could transform Elizabeth.

Simon pulled his daughter closer, noting that the honey color of suntanned skin had faded away. Now she had a vampire's glowing paleness, though she wasn't milk white like Meghann, with her fragile, redhead's skin that had needed protection from the sun even before Simon transformed her. Instead, Elizabeth had his more opaque skin, ivory toned but without any hint of Meghann's translucency.

A nerve twitched in Simon's jaw when he remembered the bruised, suffering heap he'd found at Mikal's, his precious daughter battered within an inch of her life with her glorious hair hacked off her skull by a jealous mortal. Simon ran his hands over Elizabeth's healed face, finding no trace of scars from the abuse Mikal had heaped on her. Best of all, Simon saw no shadow of humiliation or remembered agony in her sparkling eyes.

Jimmy Delacroix had done a fine job of transforming Elizabeth, Simon reluctantly admitted to himself. He was surprised that Delacroix, whom he knew had no previous experience with transformation, kept Elizabeth's mind intact throughout the process. Perhaps the strong link he had with Elizabeth because he'd been close to her from infancy allowed the amateur vampire to cling to Elizabeth's soul and keep her safe.

"Do you remember your time at Mikal's?" Simon demanded, breathing a sigh of relief when Elizabeth shook her head. So he'd at least been successful in wiping Elizabeth's memory clean before Mikal attacked him.

"The only thing I remember is waking up and being . . . you know," Elizabeth said, speaking of vampirism with her mother's diffident tones. "Then, Jimmy and I went looking for you and Mom."

"Elizabeth," Simon said firmly, "You must not be ashamed of your immortality. That you take blood from mortals is no sin; it is simply a matter of survival."

"I know," Elizabeth said but Simon saw the discomfort in her expression. "It's just... new."

Simon decided not to press. There was time enough later for him to tutor Elizabeth in her new life. Instead of lecturing, he smiled at both the women in his life and said genially, "Where is Jimmy Delacroix? I must offer him my thanks for his aid." He had no further grudge with Jimmy Delacroix, not if the man had saved his life, as well as his daughter's.

Simon thought his words would make Elizabeth and Meghann happy but a long, indecipherable look passed between them and then Elizabeth said haltingly, "Daddy, when Mom put that. . . Mikal's . . . blood ... in your heart, something happened. It was almost like an explosion. Mom fell over you and Jimmy flew away from your body like he'd gotten an electric shock. After that, they were both unconscious until sunset the next evening."

Of course they were. Simon gave his consort a level stare, wondering if her reckless impulsivity came about because she'd been so young when he transformed her. Immortal almost a hundred years and there was still nothing sedate or careful about Meghann O'Neill. That she had a great gift for magic Simon never denied but she never approached the Arts with the proper caution. Simon had been enraged when he found out that Alcuin tutored his consort in sorcery—putting such dangerous knowledge in the hands of a thoughtless child! Meghann rushed into spells and summoning with no thought for consequence—many times her actions landed her in situations she couldn't control. Though Simon was, of course, thankful that Meghann saved his life, he knew she had no appreciation for how potent the force she'd conjured was, that she risked her life, as well as the lives of Elizabeth and Jimmy Delacroix to save him.

Well, no more, Simon vowed silently and tightened his grip on Meghann until she felt almost an extension of him. Now that he was restored and there was no secret son keeping him from her side, Simon would watch her carefully, make sure Meghann performed no dark rituals that put her in peril.

"You were all... out of it. So I carried everyone to Mom's car and drove like hell to get us to Southampton before sunrise," Elizabeth continued, giving her parents a smile of shy pride. "I just made it. . . the sun was peeking over the ocean when I shut the door and sealed the shutters with everyone safe inside."

The sun! With an effort, Simon kept his face impassive, not wanting to alert Elizabeth and Meghann to the drift of his thoughts. Was it possible the blinding light Simon felt before had nothing to do with death?

Meghann suffused him with Mikal's blood and had no idea of the enormity of her actions. Simon could tell that by the green eyes following him without a trace of concern or apprehension. Meghann merely thought to heal his heart; she had no idea that she might have given him a gift of even greater value when she poured Mikal's blood into his dying body.

They'd discuss it later, Simon decided and kissed Elizabeth's forehead, murmuring, "You saved us from the sun so I owe you my life as well as I owe Jimmy Delacroix and your mother."

"Daddy," Elizabeth said with a husked, strained quality to her voice, like she was holding back tears. "You don't owe me anything. You're the one who came charging after me when Mikal kidnapped me. Mom told me she and Jimmy might have died if you hadn't killed all of Mikal's henchmen and weakened him before they arrived."

"The bodies." Simon's amber eyes darkened and he stared anxiously at his wife and daughter. "You did not leave that mess at the estate? How long have I lain unconscious? Mikal's infernal club was supposed to open this weekend."

"It's all right," Meghann replied calmly. "First, you've been unconscious for seven nights but we've taken care of everything in the meanwhile. Ellie told me that Mikal's body disintegrated after I pierced his heart with my blood teeth. As for Lee, Ellie put his body in the trunk so we could have a proper burial for him later. You know my father bought a plot at Calvary cemetery for me. Now that you're awake, we're going to hold a memorial service there as soon as possible for Charles and Lee. I got a double headstone for them ... I thought they'd like to lie together, under one banner."

Meghann's voice broke and Simon squeezed her hand while they all bowed their heads in memory of the brave friends they'd lost to Mikal's treachery. When Meghann raised her head again and met his eyes, Simon saw that though she loved him and would remain with him, she'd never accept his decision to transform Lee and bring him to Mikal's. Meghann would go to her own grave thinking she should have been the one sacrificed that Lee Winslow might live.

"The other vampire . . . that boneless woman," Ellie said, picking up the thread of her mother's explanation, "I just left her outside. I knew the sun would turn her to ash. As for the humans, I left them there but I set fire to Mikal's office. I didn't know if he had any incriminating documents. I figured the corpses would provide the authorities with an explanation for what happened and it did. Look, Daddy."

Ellie shoved some newspapers at him and Simon scanned the articles, seeing that the police were seeking the missing owner of Immortal Light, one Michael Hollingsworth.

Thank God the boy did not use any identity traceable to me, Simon thought as he read the papers, silently praising his daughter's intelligence. The mortal corpses and fire led the authorities to ponder a possible extortion scenario or drug deal gone sour. They believed Michael Hollingsworth was on the run or dead and they'd seized the estate while they launched a complete investigation.

Simon didn't worry about the authorities finding any incriminating vampire evidence. Even if Mikal had been foolish enough to leave written proof or perhaps some vial of his blood, nothing would point in the direction of him, Meghann and Elizabeth. They were safe and it did not matter if the authorities found disturbing clues. They would do as lawmen had done all the centuries Simon was alive—ignore what troubled them and go on with their lives, refusing to speculate that there could be immortals among them.

"So you got us safely home and made certain Mikal's actions would not come back to haunt us," Simon smiled at Elizabeth. "What has all this to do with bringing Jimmy Delacroix to me that I may thank him?"

Again Elizabeth and Meghann looked away from him before Meghann replied, "He is still weak after recovering consciousness. He's . . . uh . .. . not well enough to see you now."

"Right," Elizabeth chirped, her voice sounding hurried and deceitful to Simon's sensitive ears. His eyes narrowed as he considered his fidgeting wife and daughter—-just what were they attempting to hide from him?

"I'm going to go out for a while," Elizabeth said, leaping off the bed and scampering away from her father's scrutiny. "I mean, I'm sure you and Mom want to be, uh ... alone for a little while. Okay?"

"Fine," Meghann said before Simon could reply and Elizabeth made a hasty departure.

Simon started to glance at Meghann's thoughts to see what she and Elizabeth were attempting to hide from him but then he saw the grief and pain welling in her eyes and knew there was another matter he had to address first.

"Look at me, Sweet," Simon said and pushed her into the pillows, positioning his body over hers protectively. "We will speak now of Mikal and then put the matter behind us forever."

"I don't want to talk about him," Meghann cried in a taut, tinny voice. She tried to push Simon away, but he only held her tighter and grasped her jaw so she had to meet his eyes.

"We must," Simon told her, kissing her forehead as gently and reverently as he'd just done to Elizabeth. "I won't have you punishing yourself with this baseless guilt."

"Baseless?!" Meghann gave him an incredulous stare and the tears in her eyes bubbled over, following earlier tracks still evident on her pale, strained face. "Simon, I killed our son! I took his heart out of his body while he was still alive and lo ... look ... looking at me ... watching his own mother sacrifice him."

"Hush," Simon said and nestled her head against his heart while she wept. Simon stroked her hair, noting with a pang how dull her usually flaming red hair was. It wasn't just lack of fresh blood but grief and despair that had stolen Meghann's beauty from her. It was up to Simon to restore her, as she'd done to him. He had to make her see reason.

"Little one," he said as she continued to sob against him, "did Mikal leave you any other choice?"

"That's not the point—" she started to say and Simon put a finger to her lips to silence her, feeling an erotic thrill course through him from even that brief contact. He saw Meghann jump slightly and knew she'd felt it, too, though she looked horror struck that she could experience lust in light of the hellish experiences of the past week.

"It most certainly is," Simon said firmly. "What would have happened to our Elizabeth if you did not kill Mikal?"

'You don't understand." Meghann raised her head from his chest, beseeching him with tormented eyes that hurt his heart far more than Mikal's sword ever could. "I know I had to kill Mikal, that it was Ellie's life or his, what a danger he was to our existence with his plans to expose vampires to the world. But Simon, I didn't just kill him—I sacrificed him! I saw you dying before my eyes and my only thought was saving you. I ripped Mikal's heart out and never even thought about him being my son until it was over. How could I use my own son like that?"

"If you had not, I would be dead. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not!"

"Then forget your guilt," Simon ordered. "Mikal was misbegotten. His only aims were destruction and causing as much suffering as he could. The boy was mad, Meghann. He had to be put down . . . never doubt the rightness of your actions. My only regret is that the burden of his death fell on your shoulders. That is why I would not take you with me to rescue Elizabeth—I wanted to spare you the pain of seeing what our son was."

Meghann didn't look away but her eyes became thoughtful, mind turning inward while she analyzed his words.

"Was he always like that?" she finally said and gave him a searching glance. "Was there ever anything more to my son than that... that thing I saw?"

"What does that matter?" With an effort, Simon kept his voice calm and didn't snap at the nonsensical question.

"It matters!" Meghann turned on her side and grasped his hands, green eyes wide and imploring. "Simon, I never knew my own son and what I did see, in the moments before I had to kill him, horrified me. I'll never forget what it was like to look in my boy's eyes and see nothing but unthinking, lunatic malice reflected back at me. Please, Simon. Tell me there was more to our son than the monster I encountered. Tell me there were moments in his life when you were proud to have a son. I can't stand to think we ... our blood ... produced something with no good in him at all."

Now it was Simon who turned away, refusing to meet her gaze. An awkward silence spun between them before Simon spoke again, his voice raspy and hoarse. "Our blood did produce something wondrous, Meghann: Elizabeth. How could I not be proud to sire her, a daughter who reminds me so much of you? She is everything I ever wanted from a child. You ask me was there more to Mikal than what you saw. My answer is yes, there was. Had there not been, I should have destroyed him long ago. But there were qualities—his brilliant mind, the powers I could never dream of matching—that stayed my hand.

"Ah, little one, I could tell you of long nights spent in conversation with our son, the happiness I felt at finally having a companion that matched my intellect. I could tell you of the joy I took in Mikal on those nights, how much I looked forward to bringing you our son. But such moments were fleeting and in the end, Mikal's intellect was no match for the sickness rotting his heart and sanity. Meghann, there could be no treatment for our son and his hatred for us meant it was his life or ours. I chose ours... yours, Elizabeth's and mine.

"Don't ever ask me about Mikal again, Meghann. I will not break my heart or yours thinking of what might have been, or of the scant fond memories I have of the boy. It is better to forget there ever was a Mikal and concentrate on Elizabeth, on the life we can finally have together."

Meghann put her hand on his shoulder and Simon knew that was her way of telling him she accepted his request, that she'd never bring Mikal up again. Neither of them would ever forget the strange, troubling boy that had been their son but to think of him would only break their hearts.

Simon turned around and Meghann didn't resist when he kissed her with a blinding intensity, for he couldn't forget those terrible moments at Mikal's when he lay alone and gasping for breath, certain he'd never see Meghann again, never again feel her arch beneath him and beg him to take her.

"You're sure you're well enough?" Meghann asked him as he pulled off the delicate silk robe she wore. Simon knew the question was a mere formality for Meghann was already drawing him closer, gently shoving him toward heavy, aching breasts seeking out the comfort of his hard-planed chest.

"If the time ever comes when I lack the strength to make love to you, I beg you to behead me," Simon murmured and bent his chestnut head down to suckle her, blood teeth teasing and nipping in a pattern that might be familiar but still had the power to knock the breath out of her and make her lie moaning and panting beneath him.

What an intoxicating armful she was, Simon thought as her hands and mouth devoured him with the same loving extravagance he'd spent on her. Long ago Simon lost count of the number of women in his bed, but none of them had ever pleased him the way Meghann did. Meghann's appeal for him wasn't based on great sexual expertise, for Simon had had that in the concubines he'd purchased when he was a mortal trader in the Levant and in professional courtesans like Gabrielle that he used to satisfy sophisticated desires. They'd interested him, some he even kept for years at a time, but never had he felt the devouring passion he had for Meghann.

"Fairie queen," he murmured against the cool hollow of her throat and watched her smile impishly at his words. That's what Meghann was to him, an enchanting creature like the wood nymphs Adelaide used- to tell him stories of. It wasn't merely that she was the most passionate woman he'd ever had in his bed but that there was something ... untouchable about her. Yes, that was it—even after all this time, Meghann still reacted to him with a core of innocence in her every gesture, and that had the power to drive him to heights of rapture he'd never approached with anyone else.

"Do you know the story of Diana?" Simon questioned when Meghann began to stir impatiently at the prolonged foreplay, very obviously ready for him to take her.

"The virgin huntress," Meghann said, attempting to force his mouth back to her breasts. "She rode through the night."

"As you will ride me, little one." Easily Simon swung her on top of him, firmly grasping her hips to guide her movements as they made love.

Meghann smiled her pleasure at the position and willingly bent down to allow him to capture her nipple as she thrashed about on top of him.

The voluptuous breasts swaying enticingly about his head and long curtain of bright red hair brushing his arms and chest made his blood hunger, which was not at all assuaged by the meager blood packs, roar to life—but Simon wouldn't feed from Meghann now; she was simply too weak and he could not have her sicken now. Instead, he brought his wrist to her mouth and husked, "Drink of me."

Meghann started to shake her head, no doubt as concerned for his health as he was for hers, but Simon shoved his wrist under her nose, knowing Meghann was too hungry for fresh blood to be able to resist the intoxicating scent much longer. Excited by the blood lust that made Meghann's green eyes turn to smoke, Simon forced her beneath him, driving into her eager, writhing body until her fangs finally emerged from dark red lips and she bit into him, sucking down his blood in a passionate frenzy.

As he'd expected, Meghann did not feed for long when her eyes suddenly bulged wide and her complexion took on an alarming, greenish tinge. Frantically, she tried to push Simon's wrist away and he felt her start to retch.

"No." Still inside her, Simon clamped down on her mouth with his hand, ignoring her miserable, pleading expression. "Keep it down, Meghann. Force yourself to keep my blood in you."

A choked whimper was Meghann's only response and Simon felt a moment of alarm when her eyes rolled back in her head—she seemed on the verge of fainting. But then color came back into her face and her eyes fluttered open weakly, looking up at Simon in bewilderment.

"It's all right," he whispered as he continued driving into her, kissing her and noticing that his blood tasted quite different—the iron taste much heavier than usual, along with an indefinable, pungent quality. No wonder Meghann got sick . . . but it had to be done. "It's all right, little one."

Meghann made no protest, the brief nausea apparently not dampening her passion as they rocked together, ending in a fierce explosion that made her tremble and cling to him afterward while he petted and soothed her.

"I'm hungry," Meghann finally sighed against his chest and Simon laughed, swinging her off the bed along with him.

"Then I must feed you—blood and food. Get dressed and we shall go out. Do you realize we have not shared a meal since I returned? Where is Elizabeth? She can accompany us."

Abruptly, Meghann paled and looked nervous again but gave Simon a coy smile before he could interrogate her.

"Silly man, Ellie left the house so we could be together." Meghann wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe when she purred into his ear, "I don't want to share your company tonight. Can't we go out and forget... everything? Just enjoy each other?"

Coquette, Simon thought, knowing Meghann was hiding some anxiety beneath the cat's eyes and flirtatious grin curling on her lips. But he knew she wasn't being dishonest. .. Meghann did want to be alone with him, to have a chance to laugh and talk as they'd not been able to do yet.

"Of course we can enjoy each other," Simon said and kept smiling as Meghann bounded away from him to bathe, thinking he fully intended to find out what she and Elizabeth were hiding from him before the night was over.

Seventeen

After making arrangements for dinner, Meghann bathed with a scrutiny bordering on obsessiveness, counting the number of times her hands massaged her scalp as she shampooed and the number of strokes to pare her nails with the emery board. There was nothing eccentric about her behavior; it was simply the only way she could force thoughts of Jimmy and Ellie out of her mind.

She couldn't think about their relationship (even the word when applied to Ellie and Jimmy made Meghann cringe) now that Simon was awake and able to read her mind with his usual impunity. Of course, Simon was no fool—Meghann knew he already suspected she and Ellie were hiding something but because of his illness, he hadn't been able to wring the whole truth from either of them.

How long do you think that's going to last, her thoughts demanded after Meghann toweled herself dry and attacked the tangles in her hip-length hair. You can't keep this from Simon forever.

Meghann sighed, her brow furrowing as the hairbrush worked its way through a particularly nasty knot. No, she couldn't keep Ellie and Jimmy's secret forever, however much she'd like to.

It wasn't that Meghann approved of them seeing each other, but no matter how she felt about the matter, she still dreaded the confrontation between Ellie and Simon that lay ahead. Right now, their relationship was nearly idyllic, the long-parted father and daughter loving each other wholeheartedly and doing everything within their power to please each other. But what would happen to that bond when Ellie finally witnessed her father's darkest side, saw the ruthless way he eliminated his enemies? For it would not matter now that Jimmy Delacroix had helped Meghann save Simon's life. Once Simon discovered he'd been in Ellie's bed, he'd never see Jimmy as anything but an enemy who had to be destroyed.

Meghann bit her lip in exasperation—she couldn't stop thinking these dangerous thoughts no matter what she did! Slamming the door on the disturbing matter, Meghann finished combing her hair and entered her dressing room. She glanced through her closets, discarding various outfits before settling on an all-lace shirtdress with a revealing neckline and scalloped sleeves. The outfit was sensual as well as elegant, the perfect combination to keep Simon's mind off anything but her.

Meghann smiled at her naughty plans and took a seat at her vanity table. As a vampire, she had no need of makeup but she wanted to put her hair up in Simon's favorite style . . . the one he'd lovingly take apart at the end of dinner.

Meghann pulled open one of the cedar drawers and withdrew some antique jade and gold combs. Then she picked up a hairbrush and confronted the mirror for the first time since she sat down. What she saw made her give out a long, petrified shriek that brought Simon running into the room, half dressed, with track marks from the comb still visible in his damp hair.

"What is it, Sweet? What's the matter?"

"Look!" Meghann pointed a trembling figure at her mirror image, or rather the lack of a reflection that greeted her. Vampires cast see-through reflections but there was always some element of visibility. Now Meghann could barely make herself out.

Simon moved behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and Meghann saw his reflection was as flimsy as hers. It was like looking into black water and seeing only the most blurred, general details of an image.

"What's the matter?" Meghann cried, feeling as frightened and confused as she had the first time she laid eyes on her vampire self. "What's wrong with us?"

Simon patted her hair, and with a qualm Meghann noted she could hardly make out the motion of his hand stroking her in the mirror. "It might be a positive sign, little one."

"A positive sign?" Meghann repeated disbelievingly and swiveled around, relieved to turn away from her reflection. "A positive sign of what?"

Simon knelt beside the vanity seat, taking her clammy hands in his dry, calm ones. "Sweetheart, you filled my heart with Mikal's blood—the blood of the only vampire ever to walk in daylight."

"Simon!" Meghann gasped as his words and their meaning dawned on her. "You're right... I gave you Mikal's blood. Does that mean you're going to be able to withstand the sun now?" With all that had happened, Meghann had almost lost track of the original reason behind their children's birth ... so Simon Baldevar could walk in daylight for the first time in four hundred years.

"I think we will withstand the sun together, Meghann." Simon smiled at her puzzlement and twirled a long strand of damp red hair in his fingers "Did you not just drink of me?"

"And that's why I got so sick!" Simon's grin broadened at her comprehension but Meghann continued to look doubtful.

"I don't understand." Meghann pointed at the mirror, careful not to let her eyes fall on her reflection. "Mikal could see himself as clearly as a mortal in mirrors. If we're going to be able to withstand the sun like him, shouldn't our reflections have become stronger instead of weaker?"

Simon shook his head. "You forget, Meghann, that we were vampires before his blood entered us. I think his blood will enhance our vampiric attributes, make them stronger. Therefore, our images might fade but our other abilities—our magic—will grown a thousandfold stronger."

"If that's so, we could have less resistance to sunlight"

"No," Simon argued. 'The ability to resist sunlight is a survival trait, therefore more dominant than the disease that forces us to live in darkness. Our telekinesis, ability to fly the plane, mesmerizing ability—all of these are survival traits, necessary to prolong our existence. Therefore, they will become stronger... as will our resistance to sunlight."

Meghann considered that. "Maybe. The only sure evidence to support your theory will be whether we fall asleep at dawn and feel the pain of the sunrise as usual. But Mikal's blood was diluted the moment it encountered our own. You can't think we'll be as strong as him . .. able to walk around at high noon."

"How do you know we will not, doubting Thomas?" Simon said and nipped her ear. "As you say, we shall simply have to wait and see. But you are right to be cautious. Even if we encounter the dawn with no ill effects, we shall not travel from the safety of this house and its shutters for days. We must be careful in our experiment."

Simon grinned and picked up the hairbrush that had fallen to the floor, quickly styling Meghann's hair into the modified pompadour he'd always favored. "I do hope you take your own good advice about the sunrise, Meghann, and not fret between now and then. Didn't Elizabeth gracefully withdraw so we'd finally have a chance to enjoy ourselves?"

Meghann's lips whitened and Simon stared at her thoughtfully but again the gods were kind, and the front bell rang before Simon could interrogate her.

"Dinner's arrived," she said with relieved brightness and shooed Simon back into his dressing room. "Meet me in the atrium in about ten minutes."

When Simon came downstairs, Meghann presented him with a room that shimmered and glowed by the pinpoint light of a dozen candles. In mere minutes, she'd transformed the garden room into a place fit for a romantic evening, with scented candles and hothouse gold and red roses swimming in large glass vases perfuming the air. The wicker dining table was covered by an elegant white linen cloth and set for dinner for two, with celadon-colored cloth napkins in gold rings, Waterford crystal glasses, antique silver, and Wedgwood china. On the rosewood sideboard a sumptuous buffet featuring fresh lobster, London broil, coconut shrimp fritters, and other mouthwatering entrees beckoned.

"Surprise," Meghann smiled while the two caterers hurriedly arranged the rest of the dishes. I meant it when I said I didn't want to share your company with anyone tonight. . . not even a crowded restaurant of mortals. I want you all to myself.

And you shall have me, Simon smiled and Meghann felt her knees grow warm and loose, as if her bones had gently dissolved. But have you forgotten we must feed an something besides mere food?

Taken care of Meghann replied smugly and turned to the two caterers. Her green eyes, a perfect match for the napkins on the table, widened slighdy and both women went rigid, their own eyes becoming glazed and unfocused.

"How very efficient," Simon complimented her and started to walk over to the hypnotized pair but a look from Meghann stopped him, making him raise one eyebrow in a quizzical gesture.

"You can't kill them," Meghann said warningly. 'The Waterside Restaurant knows I called them over here."

Simon rolled his eyes and took hold of one of the girls, a plump but pretty brunette. The girl made no move to escape, so lulled by the pleasant daydream of a Hawaiian beach Meghann put in her head she didn't even notice Simon. "Mikal's sword didn't pierce my brain, Meghann," he said as he rolled up the crisp white sleeve of her catering uniform.

With no further words, Simon made the smallest wound to pierce the girl's skin and began to feed. Meghann did the same to her victim, knowing in these summer months a vampire's mark could easily be explained away as mosquito bites if the wounds were small enough.

Meghann brought the wrist to her mouth and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the cloying perfume her host used. She disliked feeding off members of her own sex, though she could see from the smoldering gold eyes fixed on her Simon quite enjoyed the tableau of her feeding off another woman.

Then the girl's youthful blood flooded her mouth and Meghann forgot everything but the hot, coppery substance pouring down her throat like the smoothest wine. How right Simon was to despise transfusion packs, cold, glutinous blood that was nothing compared with the fresh, vital liquid she reveled in now. Transfusion packs never made her feel like she could soar through the night. Only warm blood completely restored her power and took away the gnawing, vicious ache of blood hunger that nagged and nagged at her to drink all she could . . .

Banrion!

Meghann winced at the exhortation, not sure if Alcuin was actually reaching out to her or if his voice was the tone her conscience took on to urge her away from murder. Whatever, the effect was the same— Meghann let the woman's wrist fall away from her mouth and straightened up, using one of the napkins on the table to wipe her lips clean.

She saw Simon had finished feeding and started instructing his victim to forget the bloodletting. Meghann thought she saw a smug gleam in Simon's eyes as he compared her much paler host to the girl he'd fed from.

Meghann smarted under his look, thinking he was no doubt remembering the many times she lectured him on the virtue of leaving one's prey alive. Those amused amber eyes were sending an implicit message—Simon was far more capable of restraint toward humans than her when he chose to be.

Have you no sense of humor, Simon said and gave her a half smile. I'm simply ruffling your feathers a bit, my little schoolmarm of a vampire.

Meghann felt her mouth twitch and gave up the effort to look annoyed, laughing aloud to the delight of the two caterers, healthy enough and having no memory of anything but dishing out the food and receiving the five-hundred dollar tip Simon gave to each of them as he bid them goodnight.

With the caterers gone, Meghann went to take a seat across from Simon but one long arm wrapped around her waist and deposited her in his lap.

"If we dine privately, there's no reason to put any distance between us, is there?"

"None at all," Meghann agreed, her voice not quite steady as Simon plucked a long-stemmed red rose from the table centerpiece and rubbed the soft petals under her chin before he placed the flower between her cleavage.

"How thoughtless of me," Simon said when a thorn pricked the skin above her breast and a bright red droplet of blood appeared. Inclining his head slightly, his warm tongue licked the wound clean.

Now her mind was finally clear, clear of everything but the sharp pull of lust she felt as Simon used the thorns to stab lightly at her neck and then gently suck the minuscule wounds clean.

"Simon," she breathed and moaned as though she were in pain when he moved his head away from her breast.

"Now we must eat."

Meghann leapt to her feet and made her way to the sideboard without protest, knowing the game Simon had chosen to play tonight. They'd tease each other all the long, lovely hours between now and sunrise, until their passions rose to such a fever pitch they could no longer deny themselves.

Simon smiled at her acquiescence and opened the wine she'd selected, a rare vintage of Hermitage Blanc Cuvee de l'Oree '96 that Charles and Lee had presented them with for their wedding eighteen years earlier.

"To Charles and Lee," Meghann said softly, clinking her delicate crystal glass against his.

Simon nodded and a pall fell over the table, the two of them eating the sumptuous buffet in silence.

"May I propose another toast, little one?" Simon finally said, and Meghann looked up from the plate she'd loaded with London broil, grilled salmon, and watercress risotto. Grieving for her friends or not, Meghann still had to satisfy the ferocious appetite of a vampire.

"To a long and happy future together... you and I reunited at long last, along with our wonderful daughter at our side."

Meghann lifted her glass in agreement, knowing she, Simon and Elizabeth could have a bright future but it would always be tinged by the sadness she felt for her departed friends ... particularly Charles, her mainstay for so long.

Determined to try and enjoy this celebration of Simon's recovery, Meghann clinked her glass against his, speaking with forced gaiety. "What's in this future of ours? Before everything happened, Ellie said something about you giving her the money to start her own firm."

"Establishing a talent like Elizabeth's is a pleasure I greatly look forward to. But first I think we deserve a bit of leisure, all of us. Don't you agree? Along with the business, I also promised Elizabeth a Grand Tour of Europe. Naturally I assumed you'd come along."

"Simon!" Meghann glowed, her good mood genuine now. "She . . . I'll love it! I haven't been to Europe since before she was born, except for that brief trip Charles and I made to Ballnamore . . . and that was hardly pleasure. But I hope you understand ..."

"Understand what, little one?"

Careful, Meghann told herself and imagined a thick brick wall shielding her thoughts. With blood in her, the exertion to block Simon no longer made her queasy and weak. "Well, Ellie's a young woman now You have to provide her with her own quarters and understand that she'll be, er ..."

"Wanting to see young men her own age instead of spending every minute with us?" Simon asked dryly. "Really, Meghann, I know our daughter is of an age and I've already selected suitable acquaintances for her."

"What kind of suitable acquaintances?" Meghann asked curiously, spooning up some of the delicious lobster bisque and feeding it to Simon.

He accepted the tribute with a smile before responding. "Men she can marry . . . young men of excellent families with great fortunes and bright prospects. A great many of my mortal acquaintances have sons in Elizabeth's class, attending or graduated from proper universities. Elizabeth may see any of them and when she chooses one to marry, it shall be my pleasure to transform him and make him a partner in my various business concerns ... what the devil is the matter with you?"

"Oh, Simon!" Meghann panted out, red faced and breathless from her laughter. "Oh, you .. . oh, God, that's so funny! You went and picked out some MBA, prep school clones for Ellie. You wonderful, misguided idiot—Ellie can't stand boys like that! She's going to show your 'suitable acquaintances' the door! Ha, ha, ha!"

"What on earth is wrong with a good education and a desire for wealth?" Simon demanded, tight lipped and scowling in the face of Meghann's continued laughter, looking for all the world like an insulted hawk. "Please tell me you have not encouraged Elizabeth to favor the kind of scruffy riffraff you gave yourself to during our separation. I won't have my daughter wasting herself on down- at-the-heels trash."

Knowing "scruffy riffraff" was a not-too-veiled reference to Jimmy Delacroix, Meghann backed away from the subject hastily. "Where do you want to start the tour? Italy will be miserably hot right now . . . what about York? Ellie's dying to see where you came from."

Simon reached for one of the shrimp, sauteed in a delicious garlic sauce, and moved it over her lips before he began feeding it to her. "It shall be my pleasure to show Elizabeth her heritage. Little one, you'll give yourself an aneurysm if you continue trying to deceive me."

She'd forgotten how Simon attacked—sudden and swift with as much forewarning as a lion diving out from cover. Caught off guard exactly as he'd wanted her to be, Meghann choked and tried to slide off Simon's lap, only to be kept still by an arm that was suddenly that of a prison warden instead of a lover.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered, reaching for her wineglass to wash down the shellfish that was caught in her throat.

"Is that why you won't meet my eyes?" Simon inquired in the menacing cobra's whisper she hadn't heard in years. Meghann knew from past experience his next move would be to bleed her and then strike her as a reprimand.

"Don't you dare hit me!"

"What have you done, Meghann, that I would want to hit you?" Simon grasped her chin in a punishing grip with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her eyes to lock on his. Meghann straightened on his lap and stared back at him, refusing to give Simon the satisfaction of seeing her shut her eyes to avoid him.

"If you ever hit me again," she said in a voice that didn't quaver and betray her inner turmoil, "I'll leave you forever. Now let me go!"

"You've been hiding something all night and I demand to know what it is," Simon said, unmoved by her threat.

"I'll tell you if you stop manhandling me. Now put me down!"

"So you can escape me via the astral plane? I think not." Simon grinned nastily when she flinched ... escaping this argument by flying away was exactly what Meghann had in mind. "It is only because I love you so that I have not peered into your mind but I shall if you continue to try my patience."

"Simon, I... I can't stand it anymore. I don't want anyone else to die . . . please!"

"Die? Enough of this! I shall not waste another moment on senseless riddles and coy evasions."

"No!" Meghann could feel the invasive presence coursing through her thoughts, violating her mind with the same brutal force of a rapist.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Meghann did everything she could to block him but Simon, damn his soul, was right about what the effort to thwart him would cost her. Within seconds, her temples started to pound, her vision blurred, and a thin trickle of blood fell from one nostril. Knowing she'd have a seizure if she didn't relax and Simon would get the information he wanted anyway, Meghann stopped fighting ... better to save her strength so she could help Ellie and Jimmy.

No sooner had she thought their names than Simon let out an inarticulate roar and dropped her from his lap like something diseased.

"You let that odious creature put his hands on my child?" Simon glared down at her, his face white as a sheet but for eyes the same flat, pale yellow of an attack dog ready to strike.

"It happened while we were in Chicago . . ." Meghann started to explain and Simon's hand lashed out to grab her by the hair and yank her off the floor.

"Why is he still alive, Meghann?" Simon demanded and Meghann, scalp smarting from the punishing grip on her hair, landed a solid blow at his unprotected genitals.

A crack across the face sent Meghann flying into the French doors. The force of her landing shattered the glass against her head and back.

Painfully, Meghann pulled herself away, feeling hundreds of small, bleeding cuts against her scalp and back. She knew they'd heal within minutes but for now they stung mightily and she had no idea what else Simon had in mind for her.

Simon stalked over to her, giving her a look of scorn before he addressed her with an icy contempt unlike anything she'd ever heard from him before.

"Woman, you are a poor excuse for a wife and a sorrier one of a mother. All I ever asked of you was that you keep my daughter safe and you have failed utterly, actually giving your blessing to her fornicating with that scum ..."

"He saved your life!"

Simon raised an eyebrow. "And you thought to repay him by prostituting Elizabeth's body?"

Meghann didn't have any impression of leaping up but she moved so fast even Simon couldn't stop her before she slapped him across the face with all her strength.

The shocking red imprint of her hand against his white cheek appeared and disappeared, but Simon made no move to hit her back. He only said coolly, "You have proven yourself an unfit mother but a ludicrously simple mind to read. I know you told my daughter and that cowardly lecher to hide from me. All I need to know now is where you sent them so I can attend to Elizabeth. After that, you shall never see her, or me, again."

"I never want to see you again!" Meghann screamed, infuriated by the hurt tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. She'd wept over Simon's dying body, thought she'd die along with him if he left her and look what he was doing to her now! "How dare you call me an unfit mother when our son is dead because of what you raised him to be!"

Simon struck her chin, breaking her jaw. "Tell me where my daughter is."

"You can't see it, can you?" Meghann demanded after her shattered bones healed. "Beat me all you want, it won't do you any good. I can't tell you where Ellie and Jimmy are because I don't know! They've gone someplace far away and they won't come back until I tell Ellie it's all right. And I'll never do that, no matter what you do to me . . . you won't have any chance to destroy Ellie through me!"

Simon's eyes didn't harden or narrow. Instead, rage gave them a transparent, glassy quality that made Meghann fear for her life as he leaned toward her .. .

And she suddenly found herself in New York City, standing in front of a town house she hadn't thought of in years.

Meghann looked around, unable to believe the busy Manhattan street and mellowed oak wood facade of the town house were real. Certainly, it was possible that terror gave her the ability to escape Simon via the astral plane but no vampire could travel from

Southampton to New York City. Why, it was a distance of more than ninety miles—more than triple the maximum distance of thirty miles a vampire could fly!

Mikal's blood has given you greater power, Banrion.

"Alcuin?" Meghann said, not noticing the curious stares of passersby as she looked around for the ghostly mentor she could hear but not see.

Don't let Simon push you away, Banrion. He needs you so desperately. You must help him do right by your daughter and remind him of my promise.

"What promise?" Meghann asked but the otherworldly presence surrounding her had vanished. Now she felt all the sensations of the physical world it had forced back . . . the hot cement sidewalk beneath her flimsy summer shoes and soft light of the streetlight beaming down on her, the muggy staleness of the city air in contrast with the sharp ocean breeze of Southampton.

Meghann stared at the elegant town house, thinking that this was where everything truly began, far more so than the house on Long Island Mikal had appropriated to carry out his vicious batde against his parents.

Had Mikal known about the town house, Meghann wondered as she climbed up the smooth marble steps. Did he know this was where his father transformed his mother during World War II? Did he know thirteen years after that transformation Meghann thought she'd finally thrown off Simon's brutal rule over her body and soul by staking him and leaving him on the rooftop for the dawn of a new day to finish him off?

Right now, Meghann would heavily regret not killing Simon that long ago night if it wasn't for her daughter. It wasn't immortality but Ellie that was Simon Baldevar's one true gift to her. She should have left the ungrateful bastard to die the other night instead of risking her own life to save him.

But if his behavior tonight finally had made her see the error in loving him, why couldn't she get rid of the dull, tight ache in her heart? Why did she still shudder when she remembered that hideous night a week ago when she'd held Simon's dying body in her arms? She'd been out of her mind with grief and pain, knowing if Simon died she would too and it wouldn't be through suicide either. Meghann would have simply lost the will to live this life without Simon Baldevar in it.

Damn you, Simon Baldevar, Meghann thought savagely and glared at the mahogany front door with its stained glass panels and it swung open for her. How can I love a monster like you when all you do is hurt me?

Meghann stepped through the foyer with no thought of trespassing on some mortal's home. She knew Simon still owned the property, had reclaimed it around the same time he decided to come back from the dead and reclaim her.

Perhaps it was foolish to enter this house where Simon could easily find her; maybe she should use her head start to escape him more permanently. But Meghann knew Simon could probably find her wherever she went—damned if she'd give him the satisfaction of watching her run in fear. Better to remain here and face head on the confrontation she knew couldn't be far away.

Most of the priceless furniture Meghann remembered was packed away in storage. Only a few massive pieces remained, covered in huge sheets that made the large rooms seem desolate and abandoned as she wandered through the dark house.

Meghann paused at the steps leading to the basement, thinking of the bedroom that lay below and all she'd gone through there—everything from unimaginable pleasure to the utter disintegration of her ego as Simon bent her mind to his will with his humiliating mastery over her body.

Meghann let her hand trail off the forbidding black door. Even after all this time, she couldn't bear to reenter that room and remember her change from innocent undergraduate to concubine of a power- crazed madman. There was something else she needed to see here, so Meghann closed her eyes and flew up to the rooftop.

"Call Elizabeth."

Though the steely voice made her heart plummet, Meghann kept still and opened her eyes slowly, glaring at the fiend that awaited her in the precise spot where she'd left him to die.

"Never," Meghann said, not attempting to escape but staying well out of striking range. She didn't think Simon would kill her—Ellie would never come back if he did. On the other hand, Simon might torture her in the hopes her pain would bring Ellie running back to her mother's side.

"I should bloody well torture you for procuring your daughter to . .."

"Shut up!" Meghann yelled, no longer frightened but enraged. "I did not procure Ellie to Jimmy Delacroix. I told you everything happened while we were in Chicago."

"So why did you not kill Delacroix the moment you discovered what he'd done to Elizabeth?"

"Because I needed someone by my side when I went to rescue you and Elizabeth. Since Charles was dead and you'd taken Lee for your own futile scheme, I had no one else to rely on but Jimmy."

Something flickered in the depths of Simon's imperturbable gold eyes when she reminded him what his strategy had cost Lee Winslow and his voice lost some of its hostility when he spoke to her again. "You used him so you'd have an ally when you faced Mikal. I understand that, but why is he still alive? You should have destroyed him for violating our daughter. Instead, you hand her to him. Your actions defy reason."

Meghann gave him a disgusted look. "I didn't give Ellie to Jimmy. A statement like that shows you know nothing about her and less about me. My God, you think I wouldn't take apart with my bare hands anyone who hurt Ellie? Jimmy didn't rape Ellie or take advantage of her—they love each other."

"Love?" It was Simon's turn to look disgusted. "What kind of love can there between an innocent child and that pathetic weakling?"

"Jimmy is not weak. He's withstood your every attempt to destroy him—I'd say that shows a great deal of strength." Meghann mentally shook her head, wondering how she'd been maneuvered into defending a relationship she in no way approved of.

"You do not approve?" As he divined her thoughts, Simon seemed less and less angry with her.

"No more than I approve of you reading my mind," Meghann snapped. "But what can I do?"

"What can you do?" Simon echoed incredulously. "You, with all your power, are telling me you could not dispatch that loathsome creature?"

"Your daughter loves that loathsome creature," Meghann said. "Have you thought of what it would do to her relationship with us if we kill her lover?"

Simon's face darkened when Meghann reminded him Ellie and Jimmy were lovers, but his voice had lost all its anger when he spoke to her. "So that is what you meant when you said you didn't want anyone else to die. You worry slaughtering Delacroix would cost us Elizabeth's love? Meghann, we must do what is right for Elizabeth . . . not allow her to destroy herself because we fear to correct her."

"Killing Jimmy Delacroix isn't right! What's right is realizing Ellie is an adult now, capable of making her own choices even if we don't approve of them. For God's sake, Simon. Do you really think Jimmy is going to hurt her? He transformed Ellie—successfully, I might add. That alone shows what a powerful bond there is between them."

Simon's eyes narrowed and Meghann thought she'd finally said something Simon Baldevar couldn't refute. "Don't you see that Jimmy proved what kind of man he is when he charged into Mikal's club to rescue Ellie? Throw away your ridiculous prejudices and jealousies and see Jimmy Delacroix for what he really is—a fine, brave man who loves Ellie with all his heart. He'll never hurt her, and it's over his dead body that anyone else will hurt her. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Elizabeth could do far better than him," Simon replied but here was no heat behind his words. His flat, considering tone gave Meghann hope she might actually accomplish the impossible and get Simon to leave Ellie and Jimmy in peace.

"All Ellie and Jimmy are asking for is a chance. After everything that's happened, can't you at least grant them that?"

Simon turned his back to her, staring at the brightly lit skyline and dark trees of Central Park before he spoke to her again. "He will come before me as a man and ask for my daughter's hand before I consider this. I will not see Elizabeth with some spineless creature that cannot face me to ask for her."

Meghann let out the breath she hadn't even known she was holding, thinking this was as safe as Ellie and Jimmy could be from Simon's wrath. Meghann wondered if she should tell Simon that Jimmy was all for facing down Simon, that it had been her and Ellie who urged him to leave the house once Simon regained consciousness.

"Maggie, "Jimmy had argued before Ellie finally got him to leave. "What are we accomplishing here, me and Ellie going on the run from Baldevar like criminals while you fight my battles with him? This isn't right. Either I confront him head-on or I'm the chickenshit that dickhead likes to think I am."

"Vulgar, if accurately, put," Simon said and Meghann nodced an amused gleam in his eyes as he crossed the roof to come to her side. "Perhaps Mr. Delacroix has some small merits I was not aware of."

"Stay away from me," Meghann said coldly and started for the rooftop door. "I told you what would happen if you ever hit me again."

Meghann reached the heavy aluminum door, intending to leave Simon for good now that she'd gotten him to agree to leave Ellie and Jimmy alone. She grabbed the thin, rusty handle and then fell back in shock, transfixed by what she saw.

"Simon ..." Her voice came out thin and reedy, devoid of fury or any emotion but astonishment. "Simon, look."

She heard swift footsteps behind her and made no attempt to resist when Simon wrapped his hands around her waist. Together, they stared at something neither of them had seen in countless decades—the shadow of the slowly lightening sky illuminating the cracked, rusty door handle.

When Meghann first came up here, the handle was bathed in darkness. Now there was enough light to show each crumbling flake of the rusty handle . . .

light that should have been making her and Simon feel the exhaustion and pain of imminent sunrise. Meghann thought she'd never seen anything as beautiful as that chipping rust growing brighter and brighter with each passing second.

"Simon ..." Meghann said again, his name almost sounding like a prayer as she turned to him.

Simon stared at the door, seeming as transfixed as she was, and then lifted his eyes to the sky, still dark but now deep blue instead of the black that was all vampires could stand seeing.

If careless about the time, a vampire could still be awake in this gray light of the pre-dawn hour, but they felt sluggish and ill, if not in actual pain. Just looking at Simon, Meghann could tell he wasn't experiencing any aches and pains any more than she was.

"Do you think ..." she began.

"I don't know, Meghann." Meghann whipped around at the wonder and humility in his voice—two things she'd never expected to hear from cool, ironic, detached Simon Baldevar.

"I'm scared," she confessed. It wasn't the coming dawn that frightened Meghann but the possibility this was all she'd be allowed to enjoy of it. She couldn't bear to come so close to enjoying sunlight, only to be driven back into darkness once the fiery orange ball rose in the sky.

Simon didn't attempt to soothe away her fears with meaningless words. He merely turned her around and said, "My love," before gently kissing her.

Meghann responded to him, her anger over his behavior when he found out about Ellie and Jimmy forgotten. It was impossible to hate Simon now, to feel anything but cautious hope and a deep sense of thanks that there was someone here to share this moment with her. Only another vampire could understand her joy in watching the burgeoning light chase the shadows from the rooftop and the stars from the sky.

Simon broke off their kiss, and turned her around so they could both view the horizon. Then he opened the rooftop door so they could rush into the dark house should the need arise, and then they leaned against each other, waiting and hoping.

Meghann trembled violently and Simon grasped her tighter as they watched the sky go from purple to navy blue and finally the azure of a new day. Meghann had forgotten what a gradual process the sunrise was, each gradual step so subtle you could miss it completely if you weren't watching with the same avid attention she and Simon were.

She waited for the pain, that bone-deep agony that was the last step before her skin would burn from exposure to sunlight. But the pain never came and all Meghann felt as the sky lightened was the first natural light and warmth on her skin in seventy years.

Finally, the reddish-orange ball of the sun appeared and Meghann trembled from head to toe while her heart rocked in her chest. Every instinct within her screamed at her to run from the killer sun but she took comfort from Simon's hard body supporting her and stood her ground.

Meghann had been wrong about sunrise—it wasn't slow at all. One minute she saw a small ball climbing rapidly in the sky, and the next blinding light bathed the city. She watched the city burst into life and didn't know she was crying until the falling tears tickled her cheeks.

How could she not cry at the miracle she was witnessing, at knowing she could bear the sun as well as a mortal? But what mortal could ever feel as Meghann did, take such delight at seeing colors and life she'd long since forgotten? What mortal knew to appreciate the trees of Central Park, no longer dark sentinels but a brilliant mass of full, green leaves? Meghann had forgotten green, forgotten the natural color of the world that she hadn't seen in so long. At night, all the color went away. How conditioned she'd become to blurred generalities. She'd forgotten the texture and depth of a leaf that wasn't visible by night just as she'd forgotten the sharp gray of the skyscrapers standing impassive and proud against the bright sky.

Simon's hands grasped her shoulders in an almost painful grip and Meghann turned to him, seeing wetness on his face that indicated he must have cried his own tears when he saw the sunrise.

Meghann peered at him closely, looking for the black circles beneath his eyes and ghoulishly white skin that characterized vampires during daylight hours. But Simon looked just as he always did, giving Meghann hope she too looked presentable in the sunlight. All the sun showed her was a man with pale skin, somewhat paler than average but easily explainable as the result of a prolonged illness.

We can walk among the mortals in daylight and not be thought of as unholy monsters, Meghann thought and looked at Simon expectantly but he simply continued to stare down at her.

"You can't read my thoughts, can you?" she asked and he shook his head regretfully.

"I don't believe we'll have our full strength during the day," Simon said and Meghann nodded—she'd expected as much. Mikal had no more strength or power than the average mortal during the day ... a few hours without her magic was a small price to pay for the privilege of seeing the world sparkle to life all around her.

"Ellie!" Meghann said and smiled brightly. "Simon, this is wonderful. I hated the thought of her missing the sun—now she won't have to at all!"

"No," Simon said firmly. "She will not drink of our blood just yet."

Meghann was about to ask why not when she realized why Simon wouldn't share the gift of daylight with his daughter—-Jimmy Delacroix. To appease Meghann, Simon wouldn't harm Jimmy but withholding the gift of daylight was his way of expressing disapproval over Ellie's choice of lover.

"Are you going to keep Ellie in the dark until she breaks up with Jimmy?" Meghann demanded.

"Only until I am certain she ... and perhaps Jimmy Delacroix, as well... deserves this gift. Besides, we do not know what drawbacks there are just yet. I am imploring you to wait, Meghann, and not allow our daughter to drink of you behind my back."

"Tell me what promise you made Alcuin and I won't let Ellie drink my blood until you're ready for her to experience daylight," Meghann said, remembering Alcuin's brief visit to her. Alcuin, Meghann thought with a pang. If only he and Charles and Lee could share the sun with her.

Simon gave her a sour grin, wide gold eyes still taking in the beauty of the new day all around them. "I should have known the pontiff would come to you in an attempt to dictate my behavior. The promise he attempted to extract from me was that I no longer slaughter my prey or anyone else except in the name of self-defense."

"Honor it," Meghann said and Simon laughed, an unpleasant, derisive sound.

"Why in the world would I do that?"

"Because we killed our own child," Meghann said quietly and for a moment the world was as dark as it was the night she chose to kill her son to save her husband. "How much more blood can you want on your hands?"

Simon didn't turn away from the sun when he said in a tight voice, "Have you any idea what you are asking of me—that I bend beneath the will of a priest that tried for centuries to control me?"

"What about you asking me to keep the gift of light from my daughter?" Meghann returned. "Please, Simon. At least honor Alcuin's oath while you deny Ellie the sun. Do that and I. . . I'll never bring up Mikal or what happened tonight again."

After a long moment, Simon turned away from the sun and stroked her face. "If you could only see how your hair glows in the sun. I never thought to have the privilege to look upon you in the light of day. Very well, Meghann. I give you my word I shall not destroy my prey while Elizabeth cannot walk in daylight."

Meghann accepted his promise with a nod, thinking Alcuin had been right. Simon did need her— to break that core of dark ruthlessness within his soul. But she needed him as well, needed his fierce strength and never waning love to support her through her immortality.

Meghann reached up to kiss Simon, feeling a sense of peace descend over her. For the first time, she was truly accepting of her vampiric state. No longer did she have to hide from the sun, her daughter was safe, and Simon would never threaten Jimmy Delacroix again. Certainly, she had regrets—namely the deaths of Charles and Lee. But with her new ability to walk in sunlight, Simon's love, and Ellie's safety, Meghann had as much as she'd ever dared dream of since the night she transformed.

All these thoughts raced through Meghann's mind while she and Simon kissed, their mouths and hands turning urgent with need.

"You know," Meghann said impishly when Simon started guiding her down the steep stairs toward the bedroom, "I've never made love during the day."

"And I have not in four hundred years," Simon laughed, scooping her into his arms. "I think we must do so straightaway."

Meghann melted against him in agreement, thinking for the moment of nothing but what it would be like to throw open the bedroom shutters and make love in the warmth of the sun.

The End